“No, but with the viewing, there’s going to need to be a lot of food on hand. It’s not too early to start preparing.”
“The viewing. I hadn’t even thought about that.”
“Nor should you.” Martin wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a drink of milk. “That’s what I’m here for. There’s absolutely nothing you need to concern yourself with other than Jason and taking care of yourself. How is he doing?”
“He’s sedated again. I don’t know how he’ll react to seeing his father’s body. He’s so lost in his grief I can assure you he hasn’t thought about the viewing or funeral. When is it all going to happen?”
“I confirmed with this John fellow that the viewing will be tomorrow and the funeral the day after. It’s customary for there to be a private viewing the night before, so Robert’s body will be brought here tonight. It’ll give Jason a chance to pay his respects without the stress of having everyone else around.”
“Just how many people are we planning on having at the viewing?”
“I suppose a couple hundred. They’ll be coming in throughout the day from all over the county.” Darlene pulled bowls down from the cupboards.
“A couple hundred?”
“The master was a well-known and influential man. He didn’t have close friends outside of this ranch, but there’ll be plenty of people who’ll be stopping by.”
Strangers parading through the house and Jason having to stand and greet them all, accept their meaningless condolences. The whole thing was dreadful. “If you’re ready, I can take you up to your room, Martin.”
“I suppose I should get a few hours of sleep before I start. Thank you for the warm welcome, Darlene.”
“My pleasure, sir. Kale, we’ve prepared the room on the other side of Thomas’s for him.”
“Did Thomas come back today?”
“He rode in with the others in time for a late dinner. Looked like he had a good time from the way they all were talking. They found every one of the cows.”
Kale nodded. It was a relief not to have to worry about his brother. “Do you have any luggage, Martin?”
“Just this.” Martin held up a small valise. “I didn’t have time to pack properly. Sophie’s coming later with the rest of my things.”
“Good. Jason’ll be happy to see her.” Kale led the way. Martin’s room was almost identical to Thomas’s except with yellow accents instead of blue. “Thanks again for coming.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Go get some sleep. Don’t worry about entertaining me. I’ve got plenty to do and no trouble getting it done myself.”
Jason was still asleep when Kale returned. The sheets were smooth, no signs of distress or fitful sleeping. Encouraged, Kale allowed himself to hope that Jason just might make it through the next few days. With Martin’s help, Jason would only need to show up. Soon, Kale could take Jason home and begin the process of helping him mend.
Chapter Forty
The kitchen bustled with slaves. Jason hadn’t spent much time in there since he’d tried to sneak treats past Darlene as a child. He would tiptoe in, as quiet as a little boy knew how to be, and reach into the cookie jar or sneak a pastry right off the cooling rack. Before the kitchen door even closed behind him, he would run as fast as his little legs would carry him, fist held high, flaunting his victory. Watching Darlene run her kitchen, Jason had no doubt he had never truly gotten away with anything.
This morning had been better. The grief was muted, as if dulled by the profuse crying the previous day. Better was the wrong word. It was more manageable. At least he could function without breaking into tears.
When Kale asked him what he wanted to do, Jason had immediately known he wanted to be in the kitchen. He supposed it was because the kitchen was the one place in the house that held no memories of his mother or father. It was also busy, providing him with plenty to observe in his effort to not retreat into himself. He sat at the kitchen table, an untouched book in front of him, watching Kale knead dough. It was pleasant watching Kale do just about anything. The effort he put into his task, the flex of his muscles, the lines his body formed, it was all the best distraction Jason could ask for. He finally understood why Kale had liked the kitchen all these years.
Kale continually slipped glances in Jason’s direction. Each time, Jason mustered as much of a smile as he could: a little lift of his lips so Kale would know that he was present and aware. There was nothing Kale could do, no action he could take that would chase away the pain. Jason had no doubt in his mind that if there was, Kale would do it, no matter what it entailed. This way, Kale had something he could do, a physical task that yielded a tangible result. Jason could give him that.
The day passed in a blur. Jason only moved to eat or use the bathroom. Kale kept busy in the kitchen, and Jason assured him there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. Martin entered several times to talk to Darlene or Kale. Jason was glad to see Martin. Or at least, he thought he was. He didn’t really feel any different, but he knew logically that having Martin present was a good thing. If the circumstances had been different, he might have pondered why it was that he could feel such intense pain but not the simple pleased feeling he knew must accompany Martin’s arrival. However, it involved too much thinking, and thinking was something best avoided at the moment.
At some point, Sophie had arrived. He’d managed a smile for her as he did for Kale. The slight blonde woman was a welcome sight. She worked well with Darlene, submitting to the slave’s authority in her domain. Kale spoke frequently with Sophie, teasing her about her beau and catching up on lost time. A part of Jason wished he could join in, but what would he say? “How’s your life going, Sophie? I just lost my father and have no idea if I’ll ever be normal again?” His presence in the conversation would only make it awkward.
Jason couldn’t stay in the kitchen forever. All too soon, he had to leave. He didn’t want to. He knew what awaited him. Martin appeared and murmured to Kale, both of them casting worried looks at him. It was time, then. His father’s body had arrived.
Kale approached Jason once Martin had left. Jason stood and spared him having to find the words. “I know.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Nonsense. It’s my duty. I owe him the respect. You know I’d hate myself if I didn’t have this closure. Besides, I won’t be able to avoid it tomorrow, and if I’m going to make a scene, I’d rather it not be with strangers in the house.”
Kale nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Jason had been dreading this all day, steering his thoughts away from it with the distraction of the activity around him. Jason didn’t have the least idea how he’d react to seeing his father. There was slight solace in believing it couldn’t possibly be worse than what had already happened.
Jason reached out for Kale’s hand. Once their fingers were intertwined, Jason took a deep breath and left the kitchen.
The open casket was visible from the parlor doorway. Yellow flowers surrounded it, and Demetri stood behind, his eyes lowered. Custom dictated that the body never be left alone. The body. When Jason reached the casket, he was surprised at how peaceful his father appeared. He was dressed in one of his finest suits. The expression on his face was relaxed and smooth. To see his father before him, so still and serene, was eerie. Without life animating his body, Jason didn’t know what to make of it. How was he supposed to feel? He didn’t know whether seeing his father should console him or upset him. Mostly, it made him long for the last few days, the days when he and his father had been able to talk, to even play cards with Kale, to joke and laugh and reminisce. He longed for the father he had never known as a child. He longed for the man his mother had loved. He longed to reach a place where his father was a happy memory in his heart that he could carry everywhere.
Jason let go of Kale’s hand and placed both of his on the casket. Fine craftsmanship. Whoever had arranged for it had spared no expense. Jason apprec
iated that. His father deserved the best, even though he would have hated it. “Why spend so much money on a box you’re going to bury?” he’d say. “What use is it to a dead man?” he’d reason. Jason smiled. He could still hear his father’s voice clearly in his mind. He knew from experience that someday it would fade until he could no longer remember it, until all he had was the memory of a memory. He wanted to hold onto it forever, to preserve his father’s image. But it was all destined to fade away.
Jason reached into the casket to hold his father’s hand and touch his forehead. The absence of life beneath his hands was noticeable. He leaned down and placed a kiss on his father’s cheek, the same way he had as a boy when his mother was still alive and his father would come home after a day’s work outside. “I love you. Say hello to Mother for me.” The words were so soft, Jason barely heard them himself. He straightened and looked at Demetri. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I know I’ve been no help.”
“No need, sir. It’s my duty, and Mr. Grimlock has shouldered most of the work.”
“You’ve been a credit to your master.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You should go get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”
“Excuse me, sir, but I’d like the honor of being the one to keep vigil tonight. It should be someone close to him, and you need your rest to greet everyone at the viewing.”
Demetri was right. The thought of someone else taking the responsibility was irksome. A strong sense of kinship with his father’s valet washed over him. Demetri must be at a loss. Like Jason, he had nothing to do. The master he had served no longer had need of him, except in this last act of devotion. “Of course you may. If John would like to relieve you, let him. He’s the only other person who can lay claim to the responsibility. You need your sleep like the rest of us.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Jason rejoined his hand with Kale’s and walked to their room. On the way, it struck him that Demetri had called him sir when the proper address was master. The will hadn’t been read yet, but it was natural to assume that Jason now had ownership over him. There was something honorable in Demetri, who always followed protocol, refusing to transfer the title of master to another man before Robert was buried. It was a loyalty Jason admired and that he once again gave thanks for. It was a comfort to know that while his father had surrounded himself with few men, the ones he had chosen were worthy of him.
“What can I do for you, Jason?” Kale’s voice reminded him that he had somehow lucked out the same way his father had. The Wadsworth men eschewed quantity in favor of quality when it came to the people in their lives.
Jason looked at Kale and saw in his eyes an unadulterated love for him. For the first time since his father had died, he knew he was going to be all right.
“Read to me, please. Let me lie with my eyes closed and just listen to you.”
Jason allowed Kale’s voice, the voice of a man whose fidelity was absolute, to chase out the dreary thoughts that threatened to creep into his mind. Peace followed the gentle realization that the way to mourn his father was not to lament the past, but to honor him by accepting the love of those around him.
Chapter Forty-One
The people started arriving around ten o’clock. Kale was wary of this idea from the beginning. He didn’t understand why Jason was obligated to accommodate these strangers. Inevitably, Jason ended up reassuring and comforting the people who offered condolences. It was ridiculous.
“You need to sit.” Kale had stood by Jason all morning.
“I need to greet everyone. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m going to get you a chair.” Kale pulled one of the simpler chairs in the room over to where Jason stood by the open casket. “Sit, or I carry you out of here right now.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Really? What in our history leads you to believe I won’t do what’s best for you regardless of what others may think?” Kale stared into Jason’s worn eyes. The man’s face was drawn. If Jason could see what Kale did, he wouldn’t put up such a fight. As much as Kale wished Jason would decide to follow Kale’s advice for his own good, he knew Jason relenting had more to do with the group of people accumulating behind Kale as he stalled the proceedings. As soon as Jason was seated, Kale pulled another chair next to him and joined him.
Refreshments were served in the sitting room. The mourners lingered about, chatting. Kale had no idea what they could be talking about. Probably gossiping. He doubted any of these people had spent enough time with Robert to be reminiscing.
The only break Jason took was to eat and only then because Kale had Darlene’s support. Despite how foolish Kale thought this all was, he was proud of Jason and understood his desire to keep going until all the mourners were gone. It was like when Kale had worked laying rail. His muscles would burn, and everything in him would ache for a break, but he knew if he were granted one or let up for a bit, it would be nearly impossible to start again. Better to steel himself and forge ahead until the work was done.
Voices raised in anger floated into the parlor, muffled by the walls. Jason looked up from the woman he was greeting. Kale placed his hand on Jason’s leg, giving a light squeeze to indicate he’d take care of it, and stood. The commotion was coming from outside.
In the driveway, John stared down a red-faced James Cartwright and his son Carter, as well as Mrs. Cartwright and Carter’s three younger sisters. “Mr. Cartwright, I won’t be telling you again. You’re not welcome here.” John’s voice was strong and steady. He stood calmly with his arms crossed in front of him and his feet planted shoulder-width apart. Kale didn’t think a bull would dare try to get past him.
There was no hesitation in Kale’s gait as he approached. Jason had decreed that he didn’t want the Cartwrights to attend. The gesture touched Kale even though he knew it wasn’t just for his benefit. Jason wanted to avoid an altercation, and he didn’t trust himself around Kale’s previous owner. As far as Kale was concerned, anything that kept more people out and kept the day as short as possible was fine by him.
Mr. Cartwright seemed to search for a reply. From his flushed face, it appeared he had already gone several rounds with John, who didn’t look at all ruffled. Kale took his place at John’s shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest. John didn’t even spare him a glance. Mr. Cartwright, on the other hand, sneered at Kale. “And what do you think you’re doing, slave?”
Maybe it was fatigue, maybe it was the instinct to protect Jason from people he didn’t want to see, and maybe he was just fed up with being scared of people who could do him no harm. Whatever the reason, Kale raised his chin and stared Mr. Cartwright straight on. “You heard him. I wouldn’t test him if I were you.”
Mrs. Cartwright shrieked from where she stood, her small frame dwarfed by her husband. “So it is true. The Wadsworths are letting their slaves behave like free people now.”
Kale met her wide, ice-blue eyes. “Ma’am, you may gawk at me all you like, but you will have to do it off of Wadsworth property. Jason does not want you here.”
Mrs. Cartwright’s hand connected with Kale’s cheek. It wasn’t as painful as it was humiliating. Kale tried to cool the heat flooding his face and gave thanks that it was Mrs. Cartwright who had struck him. If it had been either of the men in her family, he didn’t think he’d be able to prevent himself from striking back. The last thing he needed was to cause a scene. Or more of one, at least.
“How dare you!” Mrs. Cartwright’s voice was indignant as only a country biddy’s could be.
“I’m sorry you’re offended, Mrs. Cartwright, but this is a private affair, and your family will have to leave.”
“Don’t talk to my wife like that, boy.”
Kale could only assume he meant that Kale shouldn’t be talking to his wife at all, and certainly not with his head raised, looking her in the eye.
Mr. Cartwright leaned in close enough that Kale could smell his foul breath. Before either of
them could say a word, John appeared between them. Kale momentarily resented the man for interfering, but it only made sense. If it came to blows, there would be unneeded complications if Kale was involved.
“Any problems here, John? It looks like we’ve got some hot tempers.”
Kale was surprised by the unfamiliar voice. He looked behind Cartwright and saw a middle-aged man he didn’t recognize with a woman on his arm.
“We were just helping Mr. Cartwright and his family find their buggy, Sheriff.”
“I have the right to pay my respects to one of my oldest friends.”
“Not if Jason says you don’t.” Kale kept his voice as cool as possible.
“And who is this?” The sheriff nodded to Kale.
“The slave Robert bought off me for his son.”
“I’m not a slave. I’m Jason Wadsworth’s partner.” Kale kept his eyes trained on James Cartwright.
“You lying—”
“John?” The sheriff’s voice overrode Mr. Cartwright, silencing him.
“It’s like he said. Kale’s family, Sheriff. We’re just trying to follow Mr. Wadsworth’s orders.”
“Well, then, it looks pretty simple to me. James, why don’t you take your family home? If you need an escort, I’d be happy to oblige.” The sheriff’s tone gave the distinct impression that he’d “escorted” certain members of the Cartwright family numerous times throughout the years.
James turned away, muttering under his breath and gestured for his family to follow. None of them had any problem sneering at Kale before they walked away, even the youngest who couldn’t possibly remember the time when her family had owned Kale. He had never seen so much ugly in one place.
“Thanks for the help, Rich.” John shook the sheriff’s hand.
Kale didn’t move until the Cartwright’s buggy was on its way down the drive. It was the first time he’d ever felt superior for being able to afford a car. Such sentiments were usually beneath him, but maybe just this once it was all right.
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