She got up and headed up the gently sloping riverbank, shoulders stooped with disappointment, chin quivering as she tried not to cry.
Chapter 10
Emalee was holding out a dipper of cool water to one of the hoe gang when Simona jerked her sleeve and leaned to whisper, "Who's that woman on the white horse over yonder by that pecan tree?"
Simona shaded her eyes with her hand and strained to see in the glaring early morning sun. "Why, I believe that be Miss Twyla."
"Well, how come she out here? I never see her out much in the summer."
Simona shrugged. "I don't know, but we soon gon' find out, 'cause she waving at us to go there."
They were at the edge of a cane row and set their buckets and dippers down, should a thirsty worker seek water. It was a scorching day, and in the few hours they'd been in the fields, already they'd made four trips to the big water barrel for refills.
Twyla dismounted to stand in the shade. She returned neither their smiles nor polite greetings. Crisply she addressed Simona. "I understand you're in the family way."
Simona swallowed hard and nodded. She felt the first ripples of foreboding needling at her spine.
"My husband has been very pleased with your husband's work, Simona. I believe he promised him a bonus after grinding season."
Again, Simona nodded. She was really starting to worry, because Miss Twyla looked terribly mad about something, and she couldn't think of anything she'd done. She hadn't seen Anjele in weeks and didn't think Emalee had, either.
Twyla looked at Emalee. "I understand you have two brothers who work for BelleClair, along with your mother and father."
Emalee fearfully admitted that was so.
Twyla coolly glanced from one to the other as they watched and waited nervously. "I'm afraid I have bad news for you, Simona," she began with an imperious lift of her chin. "There won't be any bonus for your husband. As a matter of fact, you may tell him to stop by the overseer's office this afternoon and draw his final pay. And yours, as well. You two won't be working at BelleClair any longer.
"You, too, Emalee," she concluded. "And your family."
Emalee stuffed her fist in her mouth to hold back the bubbling sobs, but Simona, lips quivering, dared reach out and clutch Twyla's sleeve in pleading desperation. "But why? Why you do this to us? What we do to you? We know you never like us to be around Anjele, and we have not seen her in long time. Please, whatever we do, let us undo it... have a second chance."
Her reaction was exactly as Twyla had expected. Coldly, she removed Simona's hand. Pursing her lips, as though reconsidering her orders, she finally asked, "Maybe there is something you can do. Tell me. What do you know about one of your people called Gator?"
Now Simona was really confused but quickly replied, "Nothin'. Nobody know nothin' about Gator. He keep to hisself. Somebody say he not show up for work this mornin'. But what's he got to do with us, Miss Twyla? How come you doin' this to us?" Her hands went to her slightly rounded belly, as though to protect the now insecure future of the baby growing inside.
"You didn't know he and Anjele have been secretly seeing each other?"
"Oh, no ma'am!" Simona swung her head wildly from side to side, and Emalee chimed in to assure she didn't know anything, either.
Twyla was surprised but sensed they spoke the truth and decided it was time to get right to the point. "If the two of you cooperate with me, you may continue to work at BelleClair, and so can your families. If you refuse..." She let her voice trail off for effect.
"We do it," Simona cried, willing to do anything, for well she knew it would be impossible for Frank and her to find comparable pay working anywhere else in the Delta.
Emalee likewise assured cooperation.
So Twyla proceeded to tell them, in no uncertain terms, exactly what she wanted from them. "And you'd better be very convincing," she warned. "Anjele must not suspect anything."
Simona and Emalee exchanged nervous glances, then Emalee dared wonder aloud, "What about Gator? What if he tells her we lyin'? He gon' deny it all when he hears, for sure."
"For sure, he won't," Twyla flashed a gloating smile.
"He doesn't dare show his face either at BelleClair or Bayou Perot, ever again. You need not concern yourself with him, or his father, whom I understand has also found it to his best interest to leave.
"So," she finished, satisfied with their response, "do I have your word you will do as I've told you?"
"Yes," Simona said stiffly, "but I don' like doin' it. Anjele, she my friend. I don' like lyin' to a friend."
Timorously Emalee admitted, "I don' like it, neither."
For the first time, Twyla's haughtiness and anger melted as she said compassionately, "You girls must believe me. It's for her own good. No one else knows. No one must ever know." She had been holding her handkerchief in one hand and opened it to reveal a large roll of bills. She handed it to Simona, who was blinking with renewed bafflement. "Here. Take this as a token of my appreciation. But promise me one more thing."
Simona had never seen so much money in her life and instantly agreed, "Anything."
"If this Gator shows up, if you hear of him anywhere around, you must get word to me or Master Sinclair immediately. Understand? And you must not say anything to him about what you've done."
Simona knew that was the last thing she'd ever do, and a quick glance at Emalee confirmed she, too, had no intention of telling Gator or anyone else about the scheme. To soothe her conscience, Simona told herself Miss Twyla was right. They were doing Anjele a favor to end her illicit romance with Gator.
Without another word spoken, they watched Twyla mount and ride away, and only then did Emalee say fearfully, "I don' know, Simona. I don' know if I can do it. Anjele, she gon' know I'm lyin', for sure."
Simona stared at the money. "Well, I can. For this much money, for my baby's future, I can do anythin'. And you know I'll share it with you. So when the time comes, you jus' let me do the talkin', and all you gotta do is agree with everythin' I say. You can do that, can't you?"
Emalee nodded. After all, her welfare, as well as her family's, was at stake. "Sure, I do it. I don' like it, but I do it."
Anjele returned to the willow the next night, and when Gator again did not appear, she knew with heavy heart something had to be wrong. She tried to remember every word spoken, searching for some hidden nuance to indicate his insincerity. But she could recall nothing. Their times together had been wondrous and happy. Desire hadn't been the total sum of their pleasure when together. Each time there was sufficient moonlight, he'd introduced her to yet more of the enchantment that was the bayou. Many evenings, they'd merely sat beneath the willow and talked of the world and all its splendor, and Gator would again tell her of his exciting travels on the high seas.
Above and beyond anything else, Anjele had felt that a warm, lasting friendship existed between them. Never would he just walk away without explanation, especially after the last night they were together, when she'd given him all a woman has to give the man she loves.
Dejected, forlorn, miserable, Anjele knew there was no need to wait any longer. He wasn't coming this night. Something told her he wouldn't be there the next, or the next, but by God, she was determined to find out what was wrong and tomorrow morning, she promised herself, she'd go to him in the cane field and get some answers.
She dreaded going back to the house, knowing sleep wouldn't come as she tossed and turned all night, restless and worried. It was going to be difficult to slip away in the morning, for Raymond was to have returned to New Orleans tonight and would no doubt be arriving early to call. He'd been away nearly a month, and she hadn't missed him at all. How could she, when she was obsessed with another man?
Anjele was also curious as to why Claudia was behaving so mysteriously—ignoring her, except to smirk now and then, eyes dancing as though she knew some deep, dark secret. And her mother wasn't herself, either, or her father. Both seemed to be avoiding her, and at the din
ner table, tension hovered like stillness before a storm. She was puzzled by it all, but didn't dwell on it since she was far too preoccupied with her personal concerns.
She'd been out of the house for perhaps two hours when she returned to climb up the trellis.
But the trellis, she realized with a stab of horror, wasn't there. It had been removed, and before she had time to wonder what was going on, Twyla stepped out from behind a hydrangea bush.
"Mother?" Anjele saw her stricken face in the scant moonlight. "What... what are you doing here?" she stammered, swept with chilling dread.
"I might ask you the same thing, dear." Twyla was wearing a light silk robe over her gown, her long, dark hair pulled back and tied at the nape of her neck. When Claudia reported that Anjele had once again climbed down the trellis, Elton had had one of the gardeners take it down. Twyla had then taken up vigil in a rocker on the side porch till she saw Anjele coming across the lawn. "I think," she said slowly, evenly, "we should go inside and talk about this. Your father is waiting in his study."
Now Anjele knew, with startling clarity, the reason for everyone's mysterious behavior—especially Claudia who, no doubt had seen her leaving, and tattled. There was nothing to do now but follow her mother and face the inevitable.
Her father sat behind his desk, fingers templed as he silently struggled to hold his temper. He waited till both Anjele and Twyla were seated before taking a deep breath and quietly asking, "Where did you go tonight, Anjele?"
She told herself it wasn't really a lie. "For a walk."
"You climbed down the trellis to go for a walk? Why couldn't you just go down the stairs?" Not giving her a chance either to confirm or deny, he half rose from his chair to yell, "I'll tell you why—you met a man, didn't you?"
He sat again, stealing a glance at Twyla, who gave a slight nod of approval. He was following the planned scenario perfectly.
Anjele stared down at her hands and nervously twisted them in her lap. Not about to admit the truth, she murmured, "It's like I told you. I wanted to go for a walk, and I knew if you-all heard me going down the stairs, you wouldn't let me go, because it was so late."
He glanced at Twyla again, gratefully indicating it was her turn. Dear Lord, he hated this.
Twyla began gingerly, "Anjele, we don't believe you, and we don't think you realize what a serious thing you've done. If Raymond ever found out, he'd never marry you, and neither would any decent man. You must tell us who you were meeting, so your father can ensure he never says anything about it."
Anjele was silent.
With an exaggerated sigh, Twyla turned to Elton. "Well, when she stops meeting him, he'll realize she got caught and no doubt be afraid to say a word. There might be hope no one finds out." She turned to Anjele with genuine tears and cried, "How could you do this to us? How could you shame your family this way? You're a sinful, willful girl, Anjele, and you've broken our hearts." She lowered her face to her hands.
"I'm sorry," Anjele whispered—and truly was. "I never meant to hurt you."
At that, Elton roared, "And what were your plans if you hadn't been found out, for Christ's sake, girl? Are you such a trollop you'd cavort right up to the eve of your wedding?"
Anjele saw no need to confide how she'd fallen in love and dared to dream of a future with her Cajun. Her world had just collapsed around her, and she desperately needed time to think. As long as they didn't know who he was, he was safe, at least, but adding to the nightmare of the moment was the wonder and worry over why he hadn't appeared the past two nights. "How long have you known?" she asked bluntly, something needling inside. Perhaps it was all a trick, and they knew who she'd been meeting and had gone to him and warned him to stay away.
Twyla had been waiting for doubt to surface and was ready to exclaim, "Why, this very night, of course. Do you really think we would've known such a thing and allowed it to continue?"
Elton angrily chimed in. "I wish, by God, I had known. I wish I'd been there to see you crawling down that trellis, because I'd have been right behind you with a gun to shoot the low-life bastard who'd entice you to meet him in the shadows like some whore!"
"Elton!" Twyla gasped.
"It's what it looks like," he said savagely.
"Why did you do it?" Twyla asked. "Whatever enticed you to do such a wicked, wicked thing?"
Miserable and ashamed, Anjele could think of no response.
Twyla rose to cross to where her daughter sat and knelt before her. Clasping Anjele's cold, shaking hands, she told her, "Your father and I had a talk while we were waiting for you to come back, and we've reached a decision."
Warily, Anjele lifted sad eyes to meet her probing gaze.
"We've seen no enthusiasm in you for your wedding, and frankly, we've sensed rebellion growing since the engagement was made formal. You've treated Claudia terribly. You're obviously unhappy. So your father and I think it would be in your best interest to send you away for a while."
"No!" Anjele cried, jerking her hands away. No matter that she was in deep trouble, her own anger boiled over. "I don't want to go and live with Ida Duval. Not now. Maybe I don't have a say after I'm married, but for God's sake, don't make the misery begin a day sooner than necessary."
"We aren't talking about sending you to Ida's."
Anjele looked at her father, but he would not meet her tormented eyes. She turned once more to her mother in bewilderment. "Then where—"
"England. To a nice girls' school outside London. You'll be well educated, and you'll mature into a fine young woman, and when you come back, all this will be forgotten.
"And don't worry about Raymond," Twyla managed an encouraging smile. "I'm sure he'll be pleased to think of having a wife so gloriously learned. And he can go abroad to visit you. It'll be an adventure. Meanwhile, there will be no shame or scandal involving the family name."
Fiercely Anjele shook her head. "No. I won't go. And you can't make me. I'll run away. Tonight, if need be." She stood, trembling from head to toe, hysteria rising. Later, she'd deal with the situation, but for the moment, nothing else mattered except to find out what had happened to Gator. She'd believed him when he professed to love her, and only something terrible would keep him away. Why, he'd gone to the willow tree every night she was on the riverboat, hoping she'd be there. If he hadn't given up on her then, she told herself she owed him the same trust.
They had anticipated such a reaction, and Elton was ready with the concession, "Very well. We'll talk tomorrow. Everyone is upset right now. Go to your room, Anjele."
She ran all the way upstairs, not at all surprised to see Claudia standing at the landing, eavesdropping.
Her expression one of gloating triumph, Claudia giggled, "Well, well. Looks like Daddy's little angel turned out to be daddy's little whore. I don't know why they're so surprised. I knew it all along." With a haughty flounce, she whipped about and retreated to her room.
Anjele didn't care what she said. She didn't care what anybody said. All she wanted was for daylight to come quickly so she could slip out of the house and find Gator.
Sleep eluded her till just before dawn, and Anjele was so exhausted she didn't awake till midmorning. In a panic, she leaped out of bed to dress quickly, all the while wondering how she could get out of the house without her mother seeing and asking where she was going.
She needn't have worried.
When she went downstairs, Kesia told her Twyla and Claudia had left earlier to go into New Orleans to welcome Master Raymond home. "Don' know why they was in such a hurry. Seems to me, he'd a' been headin' out this way, first light, but they was already on the road for town."
Anjele knew the reason. Her mother was afraid Raymond would sense something was wrong and wanted more time for things to calm down before allowing him to see her. Good. That meant she could be on her way to the cane fields.
Emalee spotted her first. They were standing at the edge of the fields, next to the large water barrel, where they'd been since morning
. Workers were grumbling about having to come up to get their water, but they weren't about to let Anjele slip up on them unnoticed.
"Here she comes," Emalee whispered. "She's getting off her horse now."
"Keep your back turned," Simona snapped. "Pretend to be filling the pails. Follow my lead. Agree with everything I say."
"I'm so scared she'll know we're lying," Emalee fretted. "Oh, I wish we didn't have to do this."
"It's like Miss Twyla said, it's for her own good. She should've known better than to get involved with him in the first place."
Simona braced herself, then began in a loud voice, "That Gator, I swear, he fool us all, no? And so stupid, he was, to go messin' with another man's wife. It's like every unwed girl in the bayou wasn't enough for him. I guess he have to be greedy and sample them all, eh?" She forced a raucous laugh.
Emalee's giggle sounded hollow and false even to her own ears, but there was no time to worry about it, because Anjele was upon them.
Simona whirled about, pretending surprise. "Why, hello, my friend, I can't believe it is you. It has been so long." She was surprised at her successfully cheerful tone. Giving her friend a quick embrace, she knew Anjele had heard, all right, for she was stiff, cold, and the look in her emerald eyes mirrored the confusion within.
"We jus' talkin' about the Gator," Simona dared continue. "You remember him?"
Emalee, feeling a bit braver, decided she needed to add something to the conversation, "You know. He pull us from the water."
"And he bring you to see me. Ah!" She slapped her forehead with her hand, as though forgetting her advice till now. "I hope you did not listen to my foolish tongue that day, when I tell you to go and make merry with him. But you a smart girl. I bet you saw him for what he was from the start."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Anjele tried to appear indifferent. "We were just friends, that's all. I haven't seen him in a long time. I thought I'd come by and say hello to all of you. Is he working close by?"
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