by Afton Locke
Chapter Fourteen
On Friday night, Henry sat at his kitchen table with his head in hands. What a miserable day. He’d stayed at the plant for appearances and spoken to Dan Short as tactfully as he could. As expected, the man denied any wrongdoing. When he acted insulted about having his integrity questioned, Henry ended up apologizing instead of warning him.
He hung his head, glad Sadie hadn’t witnessed how much he’d let her down.
Then Jonathan Carter had stopped by to personally invite him to a Klan rally planned for Saturday.
A rally… Exactly what he didn’t need.
Luckily, Sadie was downstairs talking to her mother and some others during his visit. She had already given Henry enough grief for being a member. Hopefully, she’d stay home in Crab Creek all day, none the wiser. Why couldn’t she understand he had to be a member to keep the peace?
The day her brother was arrested flashed through his mind. Henry had shown up with the others, in uniform. Luckily, Leroy was proven innocent and released. But what if Mary Carter hadn’t spoken the truth about what really happened? Would Henry have helped tie the rope?
No, no, no. He shuddered. Every day, he hoped the club would disband from lack of interest. Unfortunately, the mayor’s son acted as enthused as ever. He turned his palm over, realizing his fingertips had bruised it.
What if he claimed he was too sick to participate? He couldn’t use that excuse more than once without raising suspicion. He needed to save it in case another situation like Leroy’s arose.
His stomach cramped. If only he could quit. Caleb depended on him to keep Rockfield’s going. He wasn’t about to let his family down, especially with a child on the way.
Pleasing both Sadie and the Klan was going to split him in half.
* * *
The next morning, Sadie docked her rowboat on a remote part of Oyster Island. She wore her gray blouse and skirt so she wouldn’t attract attention. The spring sun warmed her shoulders. Birds even chirped in the trees. Nice day for a Klan rally…
She’d heard about it yesterday while interviewing the shuckers to see if they thought their tally-based pay was accurate. Surely, Henry wouldn’t go. If she meant anything to him, he’d stay out of it. He seemed determined to remain a member but in name only.
After she secured the boat, she followed the sickening throb of a drumbeat. Hopefully, she could find a place to watch from a safe distance. Most of the shuckers stayed at Crab Creek today. Mama had begged her to as well.
It sure would be easier. If she didn’t see Henry dressed in a sheet, she could continue to fool herself that he loved her and they had a future together. Avoiding the crowds of white spectators, she found a good spot behind the large tree in the yard of Caleb’s old house.
The robed men poured out of the mayor’s home. Her fingers curled against rough tree bark at the sight of white sheets shining in the sun. The disguised men looked so similar, it was hard to tell who was who. The short, shuffling one in front had extra adornments on his costume. Must be the mayor. Behind him walked a slim man with an aggressive stride. His son.
After that, she couldn’t tell. Was Henry among them? Sweat broke out across her forehead. Would she know him if she saw him? She should. Hadn’t she heard his footsteps in the hall? Made love to every inch of his body?
She didn’t blink as the procession filed by. So many of them. Each had the same emblem across the left breast. What a frightening sight. What would they do to her if they caught her spying on them? If Henry was there, would he stand aside while the rest attacked her?
If she saw him here, so help her, their affair was over. She could not love one of those monsters. It would be better to be alone. A silent sob shook her. Maybe she should have listened to Mama and stayed home, but she’d rather know the truth.
As man after man marched by, she didn’t feel any recognition. Hope increased with each footstep. Maybe Henry had stayed out of it, after all. If so, she planned to give him a big dose of loving.
The last one emerged from the house. His robe got caught on the screen door closing behind him. The sheet didn’t slip, but it didn’t have to. Recognizing his gait as he rushed to catch up with the others and…oh God…those were his shoes.
Oh, Henry. No!
Her heart shot to her toes and ricocheted up into her throat. The urge to vomit hit her so suddenly, she almost did. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she sprinted away from the tree and the sheeted monsters. She’d meant to make a stealthier exit after the procession passed.
“That’s it, girl,” Jon Carter called out. “Run if you know what’s good for you.”
When she looked over her shoulder, the eyeholes of Henry’s hood were pointed right at her.
He’d seen her.
Good. He’d also seen the last of her.
The boat ride home passed in a blur. When she stumbled ashore in her yard, she found Mama seated in a chair in the sunlight.
“I’m glad you made it home in one piece.”
Sadie sobbed into her palms instead of answering.
“Come here, child. Tell me what happened.”
Although tempted to lock herself in her room, she knelt at Mama’s feet instead and laid her head in her lap.
“Henry was there, marching.” Her voice was so hoarse from crying, she barely recognized herself.
“Didn’t you already know he was in the Klan?”
“Of course I did. Seeing it was different.”
Wasn’t everyone always telling her how smart she was? How could she be stupid enough to believe in their love? By wearing that sheet today, he’d proven he felt nothing for her. And she’d surrendered her heart to him as well as her body.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?”
“I had to see it.” She sniffed against Mama’s knee. “It’s over, Mama.”
The other woman jostled her legs, forcing Sadie to glance up. “What’s over?”
“Our relationship.”
“It ain’t that simple,” Mama said. “We work for that man. He’s good to us. Even paying extra to make up for my bad hands.”
“What are you saying?”
Mama fixed her with a shrewd, battle-worn glare. “I’m saying whatever you’re giving him, you’d better keep on giving.”
Sadie rose, swallowing hard. How could she bear his touch when her heart had died?
“The laundry needs doing,” her mother reminded her.
“Yes, Mama.”
Because of the woman’s arthritis, more chores had fallen on Sadie’s shoulders. After this morning’s excursion, she was behind. At least keeping busy with laundry would keep her mind off her breaking heart.
* * *
Henry thought the miserable rally would never end. As soon as it had, he’d thrown his rotten uniform into the closet and jumped into his boat. He headed to Crab Creek as fast as he could without creating a massive wake in the harbor.
She’d seen him.
The horror on her face had made it clear how she felt. Why hadn’t she stayed home as she always did on weekends? He had to fix this. The thought of never holding her again drove a spike through his gut.
Running a company and pretending to be something he wasn’t had been a miserable life. Her love made it bearable. After rounding a bend in the creek, her home came into view. When he saw Sadie outside, hanging laundry on the line, his heart nearly pounded out of his chest. Her dresses hung in the gentle breeze, reminding him how good her warm curves had felt when she’d worn them.
He itched to jump overboard and swim the rest of the way. Instead, he secured the boat, waved at her mother, and loped toward her.
“Sadie.” His throat froze after he took off his cap. Every word he’d rehearsed on the way over abandoned him.
She pulled a clothespin out of her mouth and snapped it into place.
“Where’s your sheet? Would you like me to wash it for you, massa?”
�
�That’s not me!”
She pinned the other end of the towel. “I’m afraid it is because I can’t look at you without picturing you in it.”
“It’s a robe, not a—” He toed a clump of green grass. “Never mind. You shouldn’t have gone there. It could have been dangerous.”
“You shouldn’t have come here, either,” she said next. “Get on out before I stick this clothespin—”
Her voice, forceful enough today to strip barnacles off a boat, probably carried across Crab Creek.
“It’s right warm out, Sadie,” her mother called from her chair. “Why don’t you offer Mr. Rockfield a nice glass of lemonade?”
Henry held up his hand. “Please don’t go to any trouble. Can we go somewhere more private to talk?”
Her squared shoulders dropped while she hung the last wet garment. She even smiled at him.
“Let’s go inside and have some lemonade,” she said.
He followed, wondering what caused the sudden change. Moments ago, she’d appeared steamed enough to hang him from the clothesline by his collar. Maybe she understood his situation. He grinned for the first time all day. Sadie was still his, and with luck, he’d get more than lemonade in the house.
When she chose two glasses from the cupboard, he clasped her shoulder.
“Thanks but I’m really not thirsty. Can we talk in your room?”
“Of course.”
When she closed the door behind them, he inwardly winced at how small and shabby it was. His cottage was a palace compared to this. Business notes were scrawled across her walls, reminding him of the time she’d borrowed the books. He’d been so impressed by her dedication and admired her more each day.
She clasped her hands behind her. “Did you want something?”
Why was she acting so strange? Her anger outside hadn’t been easy to face, but he’d expected it.
“Yes, I want to make sure you understand I did what I had to do today.”
“I understand.”
Then why were her eyes so cold and her voice so dead? Her strange reaction chilled his heart to a block of ice. He’d much rather receive her anger—hot, vibrant, and all Sadie.
“Do you need to do anything besides talk?”
His cock raised its head inside his trousers. It obviously didn’t care about her change of mood. The perspiration molding her cotton blouse to her rounded arms and breasts only increased his appetite.
Then he recalled how frail her mother had looked sitting in her chair, her bent fingers resting on her knees. Sadie might hate him, but she still needed his money.
“I’ve always wanted you, but not this way.” He took a step back. “Not if you don’t want me.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen anymore.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “What you saw was an act. Don’t you realize I was only pretending to be one of them?”
“I can pretend, too,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Pretend I still love you.”
“I still do love you, Sadie.”
She snorted. “Then prove it by quitting.”
“I could have gotten out of today’s rally by pretending to be sick, but I want to save that excuse for when it really counts. You know how the mayor’s son is.”
“And you did it all for Rockfield’s, right?”
“Exactly,” he replied.
“The company is the most important thing in your life, isn’t it?” She pursed her lips. “More important than me.”
The woman was impossible. He got the urge to turn her over his knee and spank her.
“I make sacrifices for my family. Rockfield’s is part of that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Damn it, Sadie. Some things are more important than your vanity.”
When she slapped his face, he caught her wrist. “Now that’s the Sadie I know and love.”
She ripped her arm from his grip and unbuttoned his trousers. His cock surged to life again as he wondered what she planned to do to him. By the time she gripped his bare erection, he was harder than stone and sweating harder than when he’d worn the robe.
One stroke—maybe two—and he’d come all over her. Her fingers slipped to the base of his shaft and skimmed over his balls. They tightened into knots, ready to explode. She turned her hands over and slid them underneath until she supported him with her warm palms.
He loved her hands, so quick and capable they could shuck an oyster or milk every drop out of him in seconds. When she lightly squeezed his testicles, he moaned, no longer caring if Mrs. Johnson might overhear. He’d never expected a day that had begun so miserable to turn out so pleasant.
But Sadie’s smile sent a cold chill down his spine. There was no love in it. Not even pleasure. Entrusting her with the most delicate part of his anatomy when she was so angry wasn’t such a good idea.
But when sharp edges dug into his tender flesh, his breath hitched. Her nails weren’t as short as they looked…
“That’s right. You like pain, don’t you?” she whispered in his ear.
He swallowed hard. “Show me how angry you are, Sadie. I deserve every bit of it.”
“What you deserve is to have your ass beat, Henry Rockfield.”
“Do it. Please.”
Fluid seeped from the tip of his penis as he exposed his buttocks by pulling his trousers and underpants down.
With one hand still cupping his balls, she reached behind him. The scalding strike across his bare skin dragged a raw groan from his throat.
“When I asked the other workers about the tallies, several of them felt cheated,” she said. “Did you fire Mr. Short?”
Did she have to ask him that when he was in such a delicate position?
“No, he denied it when I talked to him.” And apologized…
“Of course he did,” she said with a smirk.
Two more hard slaps set his entire backside on fire, fueling a climax he could no longer control. When she slipped her hands under his sac again, needling him with her fingernails, semen exploded down his shaft with cannonball force.
She rolled him in her palms while his pearly fluid coated her dark wrists.
“For a fellow with such big balls, Mr. Rockfield, you sure don’t have any.”
Without another word, she pulled her hands out of his trousers, wiped herself with a nearby towel—which she then threw at him—and left the room.
* * *
On Monday, one week later, Sadie worked in her office while Henry spent the day on the water again. Why wouldn’t he leave the Klan? Not just for her but because it was the right thing to do? Images of their past lovemaking taunted her. How beautiful he’d made her feel in his cottage. How he’d cured her seasickness on the boat trip to Crisfield.
For the hundredth time, she unfolded her damp hanky. She’d cried so much today, she couldn’t concentrate at all. How much longer could she stand to work for him?
Maybe she should get a cleaning job so she’d never be tempted to stroke his wild forelock again. Never see his warm blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled at her. The only thing keeping her here was Mama.
If only she and Henry weren’t different colors. Although he meant well, good intentions weren’t enough. He needed to stop running away from conflict. They should never have fallen in love. Life had been simpler out on the boat, suspended between two segregated shores.
Disgusted by the soggy hanky, she caught her fresh tears with her hands. Then she thought of the weighman cheating the workers, including her mother. Something Henry refused to do anything about. As if staying a member of the Klan in name only wasn’t bad enough. Deep down, wasn’t he one of them? Weren’t all white men around here, except for Caleb?
Setting her jaw, she opened the desk drawer and pulled out a termination notice. She filled in Dan Short’s name and dated it. Next, she opened the file of purchase orders, displaying Henry’s signature. She’d successfully forged i
t once and could again.
Her fingers trembled as she held the pen, knowing her action would end their love forever. Some things were more important than love. Besides, their brief romance was already dead. A bit of ink dripped on the page because she hesitated, remembering how he’d once made her feel like a desirable woman. She would treasure that memory, no matter what happened.
With careful concentration, she lowered the pen and signed his name.
* * *
Henry came off the water Tuesday evening to find Dan Short and Jonathan Carter sitting in his office. Judging by their stony expressions, they weren’t very happy. His stomach sank. What now?
It had been a lousy day. After his boat engine conked out, he’d had to be towed back to the plant. He was grounded until it could be fixed. All he wanted was a hot bath and sleep. Worst of all, Sadie had barely spoken two words to him this week.
Why did she make him choose between her and duty? Didn’t she realize how badly he wished he could go along with her wishes? He’d give anything to feel her breasts pressed against his chest. To grip her shapely hips.
Working together every day with their dead love lying between them would kill him. Maybe he should work on finding her and her mother nice jobs somewhere else.
He sat down behind his desk. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
Short slapped a piece of paper in front of him. “What is the meaning of this?”
When Henry read the termination notice, shock constricted his chest with the force of a boa constrictor. His signature mocked him from the bottom of the page. He sure as hell hadn’t signed it.
Sadie…
How could she do this to him? She knew how important it was not to anger the Klan. And where in the hell was he supposed to find a replacement for the weighman on such short notice?
Should he tell the truth and blame it on her? She probably deserved it, but the crime would go hard on her. They’d throw her in jail, or worse. The only thing he could do was mop up her mess.
He’d deal with her later.
“The shucking tallies have been inaccurate,” he said.
“Do you have proof of this?” Jon Carter demanded.
“I’ve interviewed the workers, sir.”