"You and I were spared when the Indians killed them and your brothers, so I told Judd you were his child. He never suspected anything, because he didn't know our own baby had been born dead a few days earlier."
"Why are you telling me this now? Why did you lie to me, and to Daddy, all these years?"
"Because it was like fate meant for me to, so I wouldn't lose him. Iris had given you to me to nurse that morning, because I still had milk for my own baby, and it was making me sick. I had to get rid of it. So I took you and walked away from the wagons and off into the bushes, and that's where I was when they attacked, and..." Harsh rasping sounds came from deep within her chest, making it difficult for her to talk. When she finally caught her breath, she begged, "You've got to understand that I only did it because I loved Judd so much, and I thought Iris was dead, so what good would it have done anybody for me to tell the truth? If Judd had left me then, how could I have taken care of you?"
Jacie's gaze had been fixed on the picture of her mother. Slowly, something terrible dawned on her. She looked up at Violet. "You said you thought she was dead. Didn't you know for sure?"
"I thought I did...then. You see, I fainted, Jacie. It was all too much. The last thing I remember seeing was your father being killed as he tried to protect your mother."
"But you didn't see her die?"
"No. And when the soldiers counted bodies after I told them how many people were in the caravan, a woman was missing."
Jacie was having difficulty taking it all in. "So she could actually have been spared."
Violet explained that the soldiers had not thought so then, and sadly, neither had she or Judd. "We figured maybe animals had dragged one of the bodies away, but then something happened about ten years ago that made me wonder."
Jacie tensed. "Go on."
"A man who was once a Texas Ranger with Judd came through on his way east to make a new life. Judd wasn't around, he'd gone off hunting, so the man talked to me. He wanted to tell us about something strange that had happened at a place called Bird's Fort. A white woman had been found living among the Comanche. The army rescued her, but she ran away, back to the Indians."
Jacie's eyes went wide. "What makes you think that could have been my—my mother?"
"She had lavender eyes like he'd never seen before. The Ranger remembered Judd telling about his sister-in-law's pretty lavender eyes, so he thought Judd should know there was a chance Iris might still be alive, living with the Indians, especially since they were Comanche, the same as attacked the caravan."
"Oh my God," Jacie breathed. "Why didn't you tell him? How could you keep it from him?"
Violet seemed to shrink into the pillows, pressed by the weight of her conscience as she defended herself. "Because there was no real proof, but that wouldn't have made any difference to Judd. He'd have gone to Texas anyway, and whether or not he found her, he would have hated me for deceiving him all those years. I'd never have seen him again. I couldn't risk that, don't you see? As for Iris, if she was that woman, she was obviously happy where she was or she wouldn't have run away to go back there. It was just best to leave it all alone."
"But you had no right to make that decision!"
Violet nodded feebly. "I know, child, I know. I've lived with the misery of knowing that all these years, but I did what I felt was right. Now I see I was wrong, and I had to tell you so you can do what you want about it, and I can die in peace," she finished lamely.
Jacie looked at the daguerreotype again. What should she do? If her mother were still alive, she knew she wanted to find her, but if Michael found out, he would try to convince her it would be futile to look for her now. He would insist it was best to leave the past alone. And of course his mother would have another attack of the vapors to think her son might actually be marrying the daughter of a woman who lived with Indians. None of that mattered to Jacie, not if there was even the remotest chance she could be reunited with her real mother, for now she understood so much and knew, at last, why the people she had thought of as her parents had lived together in such misery.
"Can you forgive me?" Violet asked pitifully, wretchedly. "In my way, I've loved you, tried to be a good mother to you."
Jacie took her hand. Now was not the time to condemn. "There's nothing to forgive. You did what you thought was best and I love you, too. You've got to get well and—" Jacie stared in horror to see that Violet's head had suddenly lolled to one side, and her fingers, which Jacie still held, had gone limp.
Violet's eyes glazed over while still fixed upon Jacie, as though frozen in a plea for understanding and pardon, even in death.
In the silence that followed, Sudie dared to steal a peek inside the room, then covered her mouth in terror and fled noiselessly out to the front porch. Miss Violet was dead.
She sat down in the swing and waited. Soon Miss Jacie would come and tell her she had to run get Master Blake from the big house. Oh, she felt so sorry for Miss Jacie to think how she'd just found out Miss Violet wasn't her real momma just before she died, and that her real momma didn't even know Miss Jacie was alive.
Sudie wasn't sure what it all meant but her heart sure went out to Miss Jacie.
Chapter 7
It had been nearly three weeks since Violet's death, and Michael was becoming more concerned about Jacie with each passing day. He knew it had to be a terrible ordeal for her to lose both her parents within such a short period of time, but he feared if she did not snap out of her doldrums, she was going to grieve herself to death as her mother had done.
He had brought her to the house despite her protests, putting her in the guest suite opposite Verena and Elyse.
He had agreed, of course, to allow Violet to be buried next to Judd but did not like Jacie visiting the graves every day to sit and brood for hours. One afternoon after lunch he insisted she come to his study.
She sat across from Michael, who regarded her from behind his desk, and stared down at her hands folded in her lap as he went on and on about how she had to stop mourning so deeply. He expressed his sympathy and understanding but reminded her, ever so gently, that Dr. Foley had said her mother willed herself to die. "I don't want you to follow after her, Jacie," he said, frowning. "You hardly eat. You're losing weight and you don't look well at all."
With so much on her mind, she wished everyone would just leave her alone. "I don't feel like eating."
"That has to change. I called you here to tell you that I want you to stop going to your parents' graves so often. I think it's keeping you depressed and is probably one of the reasons you don't have an appetite."
"Well, I won't stop!" she cried.
"It's for your own good."
"It's none of your business. Michael, I'm moving back to the cabin. I insist. I want to be alone for a while."
He was unmoved by her anger. "I won't allow it."
"You can't stop me. And I never should have let you bring me here after the funeral, but I didn't want to argue—then," she added pointedly.
"Jacie, darling, I don't like to seem dictatorial, but that cabin belongs to me and I decide who lives there. Now you're here in this house, and I want you to think of it as your home, because it is, and as soon as you are ready we will be married. You will move into the master suite with me. Forget the cabin. Life has to go on. I'm having your personal belongings brought here, because I'm going to let one of the other artisans and his family move into the cabin."
"You can't do that—not yet," she said so sharply that Michael was taken back. She was thinking of the trunk. She had returned the blanket, along with the locket and the money pouch, to the hiding place in the false bottom and had been unable to bring herself to take it out since her mother—no, her aunt Violet, she reminded herself—had showed it to her.
"Well, maybe we can wait a few more days," Michael conceded, seeing how upset she was and thinking how he would have to speak to Dr. Foley about giving her something for her nerves. "But I want you to promise you'll stop going to
the graves so often. I'd like you to get your mind on other things. I'm going to be leaving for Charleston early tomorrow morning. Cousin Verena just received a letter from her lawyer saying her house has been sold, and she wants me to go with her to help take care of things. Mother is going, too. Elyse has very kindly offered to stay here and be company for you."
"That's sweet of her, but it's not necessary."
"She wants to get to know you better. I shouldn't be away for long—"
Olivia burst into the room without knocking, face flushed. She sank into the nearest chair and began to fan herself with her handkerchief as she wailed, "You've got to do something about that crazy old Indian, Michael. I heard he was at one of the slaves' cabins last night, handing out one of his potions. It terrifies me to know he's sneaking around here. I want guards posted. The next time he comes around, shoot the dirty savage."
Michael was aghast to hear his mother speak of such violent measures, but before he could utter a word, Jacie had leapt to Mehlonga's defense. "Don't you dare order him shot, and he's not a savage. He's kind to a fault, and he's only trying to help. Dr. Foley doesn't care if a Negro is sick so someone has to look out for them."
"Oh, my..." Olivia's hand fluttered to her throat. She looked at Michael, her face twisting with anger. "Now do you see why I insisted you make her disassociate herself from that old fool? She is absolutely impudent, taking up for him. What will people think?"
"I'm not listening to this." Jacie rose and stalked from the room, ignoring Michael's furious command that she return.
She knew she had to get away and be by herself for a while. When she had gotten only halfway to the cabin, she heard someone coming on horseback and knew it was Michael. She rushed into the woods, then made her way up through the hills to the secret place where she hoped to find Mehlonga.
He came, as always, and she poured out her soul to him, telling him everything she had learned the night Violet Calhoun had died. He listened quietly, absorbing every word.
"I know your heart bleeds to find out if your real mother is still alive. What are you going to do?" he asked her when she'd finished.
"She's probably dead. I know that. I only wish she could have known about me. She wouldn't have gone back to the Comanche once she was rescued. I don't understand why she did, anyway, when she was given the chance to return to civilization."
"Who can know what was in her heart? She had been living with them for many years. You must remember, you do not know for sure that the woman was your mother."
"No, I don't." Jacie stared up at the cerulean sky as though she might find the answers to all her problems there.
Suddenly he asked, "Has the spirit of love spoken to your heart?"
She gave a dismal sigh. "No, but I would have accepted Michael's proposal that night."
"Because you thought you had no choice."
Jacie did not like thinking of it that way but knew he was right. "I suppose."
"And now?"
She gave a helpless shrug. "I suppose I still don't. He says he wants us to marry right away, because I need someone to take care of me. He's moving another family into the cabin, and I won't have a home, nowhere to go." She sighed again. "I really don't have any choice, Mehlonga. But I shouldn't feel that way. He'll be good to me. I know he will."
"What if you did have somewhere else to go?"
She looked at him sharply. "What are you talking about?"
"I have made the decision to leave here. I am getting too old to sneak around the plantations and risk getting shot. I do not move as quickly as I used to. It is time for me to go west and spend what time I have left with my people. I will take you with me if you want to go. I will see that you get to this place you spoke of in Texas–Bird's Fort. You can start your search for your mother there.
"And if you do not find her," he added mysteriously, "perhaps you will find something else."
Jacie was too excited to ponder his words. "I could do it, couldn't I? I have the money hidden in the blanket. I could go out there and look for her. Even though it's been years, surely someone will still be around to remember a white woman who rejected freedom to return to her captors."
Though he knew what she would say, Mehlonga asked, "Will you tell anyone where you are going—and why?"
"I don't dare. Michael would never hear of it. He'd tell me to forget it and beg me not to say a word to anyone about it."
"So you will have to sneak away."
"Yes. I'll leave a note so he won't worry. He's going away tomorrow. It's the perfect time. We can be well on our way before he even knows I'm gone." She chattered on, making plans, thrilled to think how she was not only going to search for her real mother but would actually see the other side of those distant mountains at last.
Mehlonga listened to her talk for most of the afternoon. Finally, toward sundown, he quietly said, "Jacie, the Indians have a saying—be careful what you look for, because you might find it."
"I don't understand." She laughed, uneasy and not knowing why.
"You will, when it happens. But have you thought about what you will do if you are able to find your mother?"
"Why, bring her back with me, of course." What else would she do?
"And you think Michael Blake and his mother will welcome her into their home?"
"Yes," she replied, feeling even more apprehensive. She had not thought about that in the wake of the momentous decision she had just made.
"Do not be so sure. Think about it carefully, and make up your mind that you will be able to face the consequences should your search be fruitful. I leave you now. If you are not here at dawn, I will know you have decided not to go, and if we do not see each other ever again, I bid you farewell and a happy life, my child."
He left her, but Jacie stayed to consider her decision awhile longer. Michael was going to be hurt and angry when he found out she was gone, but she could not worry about that now. This was her one and only chance to reunite with her real mother; she could not lose it.
Deep in thought, Jacie lost track of time. Only when she heard an owl screech did she break out of her reverie to realize twilight was falling. She had to get back fast—Michael would be worried sick.
She hurried along the trail she knew so well. Night was closing in as she reached the clearing where Zach had set up the forbidden jumping hurdles.
"Miss Jacie! Lord, I've been lookin' all over for you."
She was relieved to see Zach as he came toward her on horseback from the path leading by the cornfield. "Mr. Blake is out of his mind, raisin' hell and demandin' every able-bodied man and woman at Red Oakes get out and look for you. Get on up here with me."
Jacie caught his arm as he reached down, and he easily swung her up to sit behind him. She put her arms about his waist and unconsciously rested her head against his back, succumbing to weariness. It had been a long hike, and she was exhausted from having made it so fast.
Zach reveled in the feel of her body pressed against him and felt a stirring in his loins. He could smell her hair, sweet like sunshine, and the sheer woman scent of her. He flexed his shoulders a bit, relishing how she melded against him. He did not know that she was merely tired and dared to think she was actually cuddling against him on purpose. But why shouldn't she? he reasoned. They had shared good times together when Michael was in Europe, laughing and teasing each other. And he'd never forget how she had kissed his cheek the night he wished her a happy birthday. Maybe she'd have kissed him right on the mouth if they had been anywhere but right outside the cabin, with her folks so close by.
Zach's imagination ran away with him as he thought how if it hadn't been for Jacie's daddy, she wouldn't have to marry Blake. But her daddy was dead now, and maybe she was having second thoughts and that was why she had run off that afternoon.
He thought he felt her press even closer, and was that a little squeeze she gave him with her fingertips, kind of shy like? Maybe it was just fantasy, but it was time he found out where he s
tood. They could even get something going right now. He could sneak her into his cabin over behind the barn without anybody seeing, because they were all out looking for her. Then if she did go ahead and marry up with Blake, Zach would already have his finger in the pie and be all set to taste it regular.
He pulled back on the reins to stop the horse, then, before Jacie realized what was happening, he twisted around to grab her, covering her mouth in a hot, wet kiss, one hand squeezing her breast.
Jacie came alive with a start, but before she could react a shot rang out. She heard Michael's furious voice shouting, "Damn it, what's going on there?"
Zach let go of Jacie so quickly that she slid to the ground, landing shakily on her feet. She saw Michael running toward them down the border of the corn field with several of the field hands, all of them carrying torches against the pressing night.
Zach knew that from where Michael had spotted them he could not be sure he had actually seen him kissing Jacie. Trusting she would back him up, he lied, "I was bringin' her home. Hell, Blake, you scared me to death, firin' like that. I dropped her, and she coulda got hurt."
Michael reached them, face livid. "Are you all right?" He grasped Jacie's shoulders as he raked her with an anxious glance from head to toe.
She nodded, not looking at Zach, afraid her own rage would show on her face. If she told Michael what had happened, that Zach had kissed her, fondled her, he might kill him. It was best to let it go for the present and put Zach in his place first chance she got. "I'm all right," she said, trying not to appear upset.
Michael turned his fury on Zach once more. "What the hell were you doing with her? You were supposed to signal if you found her, fire your gun. I don't like this, you stubborn fool. I don't like it one damn bit when my orders aren't followed."
And Zach didn't like being cursed and flared back at him. "Now don't get your britches all twisted. I forgot about givin' any signal. I just wanted to get her home fast as I could. I knowed everybody was in an uproar to find her."
Say You Love Me Page 7