Flight for Life

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Flight for Life Page 3

by Stephy Smith


  “Children, you mind your manners back there. I would hate to lose your new teacher before she ever gets started.” Stephen gave a chuckle and instructed the team of horses to move out.

  Zaidee felt safer with the family than she had since she left North Carolina. She let her guard down. “Do you children know any songs?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am. Do you know that song we always sing in church?” Ezekiel asked. “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,” he bellowed out in a little squeaky voice, then the rest joined in. The bouncing wagon didn’t improve any of their choir voices.

  Joseph wrapped a strong arm around her waist. The unexpected electrical surge coursed through her body and caused her voice to falter a time or two. The warmth of his breath fluttered stray hairs across her neck and cheek. Goose bumps rose on her skin.

  Why would this stranger take me to a plantation and offer me a job with his brother? Is he somehow connected to Emmett’s killers? What’s in it for him if he is? She tried to shake the awkward notions running rampant in her mind.

  Zaidee glanced at Joseph as they sang with the rest of the family. When the song ended, the family laughed together and started another song at Hezekiah’s request. Then it was Hannah’s turn to suggest a song. The wagon wheeled into the long drive of the plantation.

  Magnificent oak trees lined the drive. The proud, majestic mansion came into view. White columns stood in support of the galleries. Winding stairways led to a second floor balcony, which looked over a stately garden. Zaidee’s breath caught at the sight before her.

  The smell of lilac bushes and roses fought for attention in a slight breeze. Gazing in remembrance of her home far away, Zaidee was aware of Joseph, who stood behind her.

  “What do you think of my brother’s little home?” His laughter filled the air with a joyful noise.

  “I think it’ll suit her just fine, if you’ll quit gawking over her shoulder and help get her trunk in the house,” Stephen teased his younger brother.

  Zaidee remembered the playful camaraderie with her brother. Oh, how she missed her family and the fun she’d shared with them. Fighting her grief, she followed the family.

  She lingered a few seconds, admiring the scenery, and then climbed the stairs behind Joseph. He hauled the trunk to the second balcony. From there he entered the house, where he set her belongings down in the room Hannah pointed out.

  “Mama said supper will be ready in half an hour. That’s a long time. I’m hungry now.” Hannah’s bottom lip pooched out, and her wide blue eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, Hannah.” Joseph picked up his little niece and hugged her. “I almost forgot. Where is my bag? I have surprises for all of you kids. Let’s leave Miss Flora to get situated and to rest.”

  “I’ll come get you before we eat,” Hezekiah sang out. The three children pulled Joseph from the room and down the long hallway.

  Zaidee watched as the four disappeared down a flight of stairs before she closed the door behind her. She walked around the room, running her fingers over smooth wooden furniture. What a peaceful reminder of her home; she sighed. Moist pools blurred her vision as she made her way to the dark gold curtains covering the window. Pulling them aside, she beamed at an herb garden. With bold, swift cuts, the gardener gathered fresh herbs and bundled them to hang and dry.

  Grim visions teased and tormented her. She missed her home back East. She wondered if she would ever return. You have a new life now. For the time being it should suffice.

  After washing up a little, she changed into a clean green dress, straightened her hair, and left the room. Zaidee followed the long hallway until she reached the staircase. Laughter from the children below caught her attention and she hesitated, peeking over a railed edge.

  Her breath caught at the sight of Joseph on the floor wrestling with the children. Dimples formed on his cheeks as his mischievous chuckles mixed with the squeals of his nieces and nephews. She couldn’t shake the memory of the way he’d looked at her or the warmth of his touch when he’d lifted her. A barrage of regret assaulted her mind. Zaidee watched a moment or two longer and then proceeded down the stairs.

  Two big chandeliers hung from the ceiling. They lit every corner of the large living area where the family gathered.

  “Miss Flora, we didn’t hear you come down,” Clara said. “Supper isn’t quite ready, but you are welcome to join us if you like.” Her small frame floated across the floor to greet Zaidee.

  “Yes, I would enjoy a visit.” Zaidee gazed at the blonde woman. Clara took Zaidee’s hand and led her across the room.

  Clara’s blue eyes twinkled under thick lashes. “We were watching our children play with the child next door.” She pointed to Joseph and giggled at the sight. “They love him. You should see what happens when Stephen joins in the fun. I sometimes think I’m running a home for children under the age of thirty.”

  Joy and peace spread through the room. Zaidee couldn’t help herself. For the first time since her brother’s death, she laughed, forgetting her problems for a little while. She relaxed as she watched the family. Their generosity pulled her in with open arms, no questions asked.

  “Stephen will be back in a few minutes. He went to help Moses fix the cart. Moses is one of the helpers here. They all stay in their place and are polite. I hope you don’t mind if they accompany us at times when we have picnics and gatherings.” Clara’s brows furrowed.

  “No, I don’t mind. That is your business, and I have no intention of stopping your family from living as you choose on my account,” Zaidee assured Clara.

  “I’m glad. I will tell you what we expect from you after supper. Would it be better for you if we wait until the morning? It is still a few weeks before the boys will be ready to start their studies anyway.”

  “That will be fine. Whenever you are ready for me to begin, I am ready.” Zaidee glanced around the room in hope Clara wouldn’t notice the deceit in her eyes.

  “Stephen promised the boys he would take them to Joseph’s. There are still papers to sign. He bought my family’s plantation. The name of his place is Willowbend. I was born there.” Clara arranged some flowers in a vase on the table.

  “I can help in the kitchen until it’s all settled,” Zaidee said.

  “No, ma’am. You’re my guest, and you’ll do no such thing. I’ll show you around our gardens and the fields. We’ll make use of your vacation time before you go to work teaching. Believe me, the boys can be a handful at times.” Clara gazed at the two rambunctious boys climbing all over their uncle.

  “I don’t mind. However I can help,” Zaidee said, willing to do her part. She felt it necessary to inform the family of her circumstances before the children grew too attached to her.

  Chapter Four

  Joseph had stood back in the shadows to catch glimpses of Zaidee from the time they’d left North Carolina until they reached his brother’s plantation. The woman who called herself Flora was definitely running from something. He had been to her brother’s funeral and heard about the burning of the school.

  The thought of Mr. Lawrence sent an uneasiness over his body. Zaidee was afraid of something, and he planned on finding out what it was.

  His breath caught in his throat when she came down the stairs. Her smooth, elegant style graced the wide staircase. The fear that had been etched in her eyes still loomed, but it was not as prevalent as it had been before.

  After supper, he would spend time with her and see if he could get her to open up to him. Doubt darkened his thoughts. Zaidee didn’t trust anyone, except maybe Stephen and Clara’s children. His mind eased at the interaction she’d displayed with them on the ride out to the mansion.

  He had sensed the tension in her body when he’d placed his arm around her waist. His own desires had flared when he’d touched her. The only thing he wanted was to keep her safe. When she turned her blue eyes upon him, he got lost in the depths.

  At supper, she talked and laughed with the children. She excused herself right
after the family had eaten. His gaze followed the sway of her nicely rounded hips until she disappeared around the corner. He had to listen hard for her light footsteps on the staircase. Shaking his head, he wondered why he wanted to know, needed to know everything about her.

  From the sweet, floral smell of her hair in the breeze to the sound of her breathing as she slept, he was infatuated. What kind of hold did she have on him? Perhaps the attraction was nothing other than the fact that she was in danger, and he could at least give her some peace.

  “Joseph? Joseph?” The poke on his arm brought him around to Stephen’s voice.

  “Were you saying something?”

  “What’s her story?” Stephen’s gaze met his as he nodded his head toward the stairs.

  “I don’t know. She’s too scared to talk.” Joseph paused. “Give her some time. I had better get some rest. I have a long day ahead of me.”

  With that, he stood and strolled out of the dining room and up the steps. He took the long hall and paused in front of Zaidee’s door. His heart wrenched as he listened to the sobs coming from inside. Reaching for the handle, his hand never quite made it. She needed time alone, he reasoned, letting his hand fall to his side. He turned and walked to his own room.

  The dim moonlight filtered through his window. He lay upon the bed with his thoughts on the woman in the next room. His eyes fluttered shut as he fell asleep to the memory of her voice when she laughed with the children.

  In the darkness, the sound of footsteps passing outside his door woke him. He didn’t know how long he had slept, nor did he care. Where was she going this time of night? Was she sneaking out to run away? His heart lurched, and he rose from the bed. In his stocking feet, he crept across the floor and opened his door.

  His breath caught as the tips of her beautiful long, red hair floated behind her and disappeared around the corner. The creaking of the porch swing on the balcony relieved his tension. He grabbed a quilt and made his way to the gallery.

  In the light of the moon, her hair glistened with different shades of red and gold. He stood at the end of the swing. Tears streamed down her face, causing his heart to plunge to the pit of his stomach. He glanced down at the quilt in his hands and then placed it about her shoulders. Taking a seat beside her, he pulled her into him.

  Sobs shook her body as she cried into his chest. The warmth of her tears slid down his skin. He swore under his breath at the deep-seated pain she had to be experiencing. There wasn’t anything he could do except let her release her pent-up emotions. His chin rested on top of her head. Her long auburn locks reminded him of silk. He drew in a deep breath and waited.

  “Would you like to talk? I’m a good listener.” A prickle of hope ran down his spine.

  “Why are you helping me? You don’t know anything about me.”

  “You need the help. It burns in your eyes.”

  “But you know nothing about me. How did you know I was out here?” She sighed and dabbed at her eyes.

  “I heard you walk down the hallway and followed. I figured you could use a friend.” It felt good to hold her. At least he could give her a small amount of comfort. She hadn’t pulled away when he’d drawn her against him.

  “You don’t know what I’m up against. How could you bring me here?” Her voice fell harshly upon his ears.

  “I would’ve done the same for anyone. Flora—” He clamped his mouth. There for a minute, he’d almost told her he was afraid Mr. Lawrence was out to do her harm , and then he thought better of it. No sense in adding more worries to the ones she was facing, whatever they may be.

  She glanced at him. He raised his hand to her cheek. Caressing her delicate skin sent a tingle up his arm to his shoulder. Full, luscious lips parted, and her eyes closed, resting her lashes on her cheeks. Unable to control himself, he brushed his lips across hers. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away but accepted his kiss. Desire burned within his soul, as he tasted the sweetness of her mouth.

  His arm closed around her, pulling her closer into his embrace. Never had he experienced such strange emotions clouding his mind. She pushed her tiny hand against his chest. The beat of his heart pounded with enough force, he could feel the blood coursing in his neck. He backed away and then stood. Without reasoning, he turned and walked back to his room. The words he had told Stephen filtered in his thoughts. “She needs time.”

  Chapter Five

  A twinge of envy captured Zaidee when Clara’s promise to take her to see the plantation grounds held true. She’d had her own fields and gardens back home, which she’d had to abandon to save her own life. Although she was happy Clara and her family could enjoy their place, she missed hers. Guilt took her over. The time she’d spent with the family, especially the last two weeks since Stephen and Joseph had left with the boys, seemed to grow more intense.

  Even though she had been in their home for a month, she couldn’t help wondering what kind of person could let these people make her feel good, yet the way she repaid them was to put their lives in danger? As long as she had to hide, the family would never be safe.

  With Hezekiah and Ezekiel gone, the house was quiet. A certain amount of sadness from their absence didn’t go unnoticed by Zaidee. Uncertainty reared its ugly head. Should she be more afraid because they weren’t here, where she could try to protect them, or be glad they were safe with their father? Of course, they should be safer with their family. I can’t protect myself, much less two little boys. She mentally scolded herself for letting her emotions rule over reality. After all, she was only going to be their teacher, and as a teacher, she felt responsible for the children who would be under her tutelage.

  Other than her own misfortunes, peace radiated across the plantation. Zaidee grew comfortable and wasn’t as homesick any more. She loved this place, and the family behind it welcomed her.

  Lifting her hand to her lips, she remembered Joseph’s kiss. His closeness had threatened to breach her defenses. There had to be a way to prevent being alone with him. Too much was at stake and she couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t let anything get in the way.

  Tomorrow, Stephen and the boys would be home. A slight weight lifted from her shoulders. The house would be full of life again. With the beginning of school coming soon, Zaidee planned to prepare for the next few days. Instead, she gazed out the window.

  The air caught in her lungs. A terrible sensation clenched her heart; she glared at the shadow in the darkness. The blood seemed to drain from her head. She shivered and pulled the curtains shut. To make herself feel better, she told herself it was one of the slaves under a shade tree or possibly the shadows tempting her imagination.

  Hannah knocked on the door, and a startled Zaidee whirled around. The sight of the child pulled her out of the emotional turmoil, and she let out a sigh.

  “Miss Flora, Mama sent me to get you.”

  The tiny replica of Clara put a smile on her face. The child’s small hand twisted in hers; Hannah and Zaidee skipped their way down the stairs. Clara waited in the family room. Emma stood by her side and Thomas squirmed in her arms while Jonas, the driver of the wagon, stood by the door.

  The somber faces of the family sent Zaidee’s heart thundering as her mind conjured messages of unimaginable bad news about Joseph, Stephen, and the boys.

  “What’s going on?” She tried to still the quiver in her voice. She prayed Joseph and Stephen were all right. If something happened to Joseph, how could she ever forgive herself?

  “We’re going to Joseph’s plantation for supper and will ride home with Stephen tomorrow. I’ve already packed extra nightclothes for you. Are you ready to experience one more new thing?” Dimples formed on Clara’s cheeks.

  “Oh, yes.” Relief washed over her. She didn’t want to be here alone with the figure in the shadows. Even if it was one of the plantation workers, she still shivered at the memory of him. As long as she was around the family, she prayed she’d be safe.

  Once in the wagon, Zaidee glanced to the trees where
the man had been. He had stood with his body behind one, but his head had been visible when he’d peered out. He was no longer there, but she could feel the blood drain from her face, and she tilted her head toward the opposite side of the wagon. What would Clara do if she thought Zaidee brought danger to her children? Would Clara turn her in to the sheriff or hand her over to the murderers? She wasn’t Clara so she didn’t know.

  When she glanced back again, the space beneath the tree was empty. She drew in a long breath. You’re being paranoid, Zaidee Rogers. Stop it this instant before you drive yourself mad. That was only one of the workers or possibly no one at all.

  Oh, how she hated to keep secrets from Clara. If she were sure she could trust her hostess, she would confide her fears. Perhaps later, when the two got to know each other better, they could form that type of friendship. In her eyes, one didn’t leave her children in the care of someone she couldn’t trust. A sigh escaped her lungs.

  The watchful gaze on Zaidee’s back created a fierce fear for the family. If she were certain the whole thing was in her mind she would feel better, but she hadn’t been sure of anything since she’d left North Carolina. The reality of this situation didn’t sit well. A sinking in her heart warned her it could be time she moved on. For the sake of the people she’d come to care about, she reminded herself.

  Guilt plagued her. Maybe she should inform someone of the person she thought she’d seen in the shadows. Don’t be absurd. You’re not even sure anyone was there. Look at what you have done to yourself… thinking someone is here looking for you. Even if there is, maybe this will encourage him to move on.

  Her focus came back as Clara asked, “Are you ready to see Willowbend?”

  “I’m excited about it. You keep telling me how beautiful the place is, and I’m dumbfounded as to how much more beauty it could hold compared to the Solomon.”

 

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