Flight for Life
Page 6
“How is you to learn if you don’t ask questions, Miss Flora?” Miss Lola dabbed her eyes. “Now, we best get some sleep and see what tomorrow holds for us.”
With reluctance, Zaidee slipped into her nightclothes. There were too many things to sort out in her mind. The deep desire to apologize to Joseph wrenched her gut. No matter how bad she hurt, she couldn’t draw him in again. She wanted to let these people in on her secret, but it seemed like they’d had enough griefs over the years without adding hers to the mix.
Zaidee gave a quick glance as Miss Lola extinguished the lamp. Apprehension and puzzlement slipped into her thoughts. She wondered how she would find sleep for the night. A cold shiver ran down her spine.
When Zaidee woke to an empty room the next morning, she walked to the window and peered out. She wrapped her arms around herself, protecting her body. Protecting the sensations that threatened to escape through the tears she needed to shed. She would go to Joseph and tell him she had to leave.
Spinning back to the bed, she found Miss Lola standing there. A tray of food had been placed on the dressing table and the stool for Zaidee to sit upon had been pulled out. “You need to eat your breakfast, Miss Flora. We’re still waitin’ word from the Solomon to see what the men find. More men are in the woods with Mr. Joseph looking for that intruder from last night. The rumor is, they found footprints leading in the direction of the Solomon.”
Zaidee gasped. Whoever followed her knew where she was living. She’d already put too many good lives in danger, and she was positive she should move on soon.
“Mr. Joseph’s in the woods? He’ll be back soon, won’t he?” Zaidee shook her head. The urge to find him loomed in her mind. She had to find him and put an end to this craziness. Sparing these people was her main priority even if it meant risking her own safekeeping.
“I s’pose they will. Don’t worry about that young man, he be fine.” Miss Lola rested her hands on Zaidee’s shoulders.
“I just need to talk to him. That’s all.” Zaidee lowered her eyes.
“You goin’ to be all right by yo’self, Miss Flora? I got work to do.”
Miss Lola left the room before she could nod. Zaidee picked at the food on the tray. A knock sounded on the door and Clara entered the room. Zaidee glanced at the picture on the wall once again.
“She was beautiful. Her heart was light as a butterfly. She always laughed and was so happy. She never let anything ruin her day. Cybil and I, we would take everything to heart, but Sarah, she was the angel that kept us together,” Clara said, following Zaidee’s gaze.
“I’m sure you miss her terribly.” Zaidee’s voice trailed off. “My brother died recently. I miss him. We were twins. For a long time, I climbed trees and went fishing with him. I didn’t know how to act like a woman. I was too busy with my brother. One day, Mama called me in, and put petticoats and the most beautiful green dress on me. She put my hair on top of my head. I took one look in the mirror and bawled. I wasn’t having any of that business.”
Zaidee shook her head then laughed. “But Mama, she made me wear the dress when the teacher came in for my lessons. I had to sit there with lace scratching my neck and them petticoats, my, my, they were the most uncomfortable garments I ever had on.” Zaidee glanced at Clara. She hoped to relieve the worried look on Clara’s flawless face.
“Sarah always told me and Cybil, ‘Angels don’t grow wings from running, you have to learn how to fly.’ I wasn’t sure what that meant until she died. Cybil and I both grew wings; we just never became the angels Sarah talked about.” Clara wiped a tear before it had the chance to escape.
“You are an angel in your own way, Clara. You are an angel.” Zaidee hugged Clara to hide the shakiness creeping into her voice.
“We better get downstairs before they send the dogs looking for us.” Clara started toward the door.
“I’ll get dressed and meet you down there. Is it all right if we walk in the gardens?”
“Oh yes, I would love to give you a tour of this place. We’re safe here.” Clara turned and disappeared through the door, closing it behind her.
Zaidee quickly dressed, made the bed, and took the empty tray down the stairs. Placing the tray on a stand in the kitchen, she washed and dried the dishes and set out to find Clara.
“I’m ready for my tour.” Zaidee tried to sound jovial, her mind still clouded with the thoughts of far too many lives in danger because of her reluctance to admit her real name.
Walking in the garden, Zaidee took a deep breath. The cool air penetrated her lungs, and the sweet aroma of roses and lilacs settled in her nose. Birds, singing in the trees to the tune of rustling leaves, spread peace through the garden.
Everything went quiet. The birds stopped singing. Clara caught Zaidee’s arm and protectively stood in front of her.
“What’s going on, Clara?”
“Hush,” Clara warned.
The man appeared out of nowhere in front of them. “So we meet again, Miss Flora.” The voice of Mr. Lawrence echoed in the garden.
Zaidee held her breath and then found her voice. “What are you doing here, Mr. Lawrence?” Her fists balled and perched on her hips.
“Oh, I think you know the answer to that, my beautiful lady.” His gaze pierced Zaidee to the core.
“No. I don’t know.” Zaidee’s heart pounded out of control. She pushed her way in front of Clara.
“I want to know why you’re on this property,” Clara demanded in a cold, intrusive voice. She pulled Zaidee back and produced a gun from the pocket of her skirt. “You best be talking or get your feet to walking. I do know how to use this thing.” She pointed the gun at Mr. Lawrence.
“I’m looking for a runaway.” Mr. Lawrence’s hands rose in surrender. He glared at Zaidee.
“Your runaway isn’t here. Now get before I fire this gun, and you’ll be surrounded by a mob of angry men. And trust me when I tell you they’re angry. They’ll stop at nothing.” Clara pointed the gun in the air and fired off a round.
Mr. Lawrence whirled around and hotfooted down the road. Men came from the woods by the dozens and gathered around. Joseph was the first to emerge.
“What in blue blazes is going on, Clara? Begging your pardon, Flora,” Joseph said between breaths.
“That strange fellow from town was here. I think he’s the one who’s been hiding in the shadows.” Clara replaced the gun in her skirt pocket.
“Mr. Lawrence.” Zaidee gazed into Joseph’s eyes. “He says he’s looking for a runaway.” She started to laugh hysterically. Clara and Joseph exchanged glances.
When Zaidee quit laughing, Joseph’s voice was harsh and bitter. “What is so amusing about all of this?”
“When Clara fired off that gun, the look on that evil man’s face as he turned to hightail it out of here was of sheer fright. I think he believed the next one would end up in his backside.” Zaidee couldn’t contain herself.
Clara gave a small giggle. “He was running pretty fast. I don’t think a horse could catch that devil.”
Joseph’s eyes burned with pure hatred as he gazed down the walkway after Mr. Lawrence. Zaidee shivered and prayed she would never end up on the receiving end of Joseph’s anger. But she deserved it after the things she had said to him.
“Men—Miss Flora will stay here until we catch this guy. I want a guard on her at all times. Miss Lola can stay in the room with her. Make sure she has plenty of bullets. If you see this man again… shoot him.
“Clara, if you and the children want to stay, you’re always welcome. I think it would be wiser than sending you home in the wagon when it could be ambushed. This man has evil in his heart, and I don’t know how evil he is.” Joseph turned and stalked to the barn, calling over his shoulder, “Clara, I’m going to send a messenger to the Solomon to tell Stephen what happened. I’m sure he’ll want you to stay here. I need a few of you fellows to go over there. Stephen will need more guards. I’m going to check around here to make sure Lawrence is gone from
the area. ” Then he disappeared inside.
Chapter Ten
Zaidee’s words still rang in his mind. She would remain here no matter what she thought. Her nightly visits to the gallery over the last week and her crying in the moonlight tore at his thoughts. Her demands on him to stay away from her hurt worse than any physical pain ever could. At least he would heal from that kind of injury. But she’d deliberately said things to inflict heartache, and he knew it. He wouldn’t deny her request, so he stayed away as much as he could.
That didn’t mean he had to like it. So he spied on her from a distance. Not being able to approach her—to let her cry on his shoulder—left him empty inside. He missed the floral fragrance that floated from her hair. If only he could partake in one more taste of her sweet, succulent lips and feel her pressed against his body, he would be a happy man. A shiver ran down his spine, and his arms felt cold from her rejection.
He heard her shoes tap past his door. His long steps carried him into the hallway. She clutched her valise in one hand, and her hair was fashioned in a bun at the nape of her neck. The thud in his chest echoed like a dynamite blast. He listened as she started down the outside gallery stairs. He followed and hid in the shadows.
Lola’s husband Isaac met her at the bottom. “Nice night for a midnight getaway, I s’pose.”
“Please don’t try to stop me.” She kept her voice low.
“I don’t aim to.” Isaac gazed at the moon. “Afo’ you leave, would you sit and talk to me a few minutes?” His thumbs were tucked in the waistband of his trousers. He rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes.
Zaidee sat on the iron bench in an alcove. “Miss Lola is a good woman.”
“Yes ‘m. The love of my life.” Isaac continued to gaze at the sky. “You know, that moon there is a mournful moon. Just don’t shine as bright as it should.” He lifted his hand and half-pointed at the shining orb. “My mammy used to call it the widower’s moon. Said it had a sad veil come over to hide its tears. I’m thinkin’ maybe they’s some truth to her words. What do you think, Miss Flora?” Isaac shuffled his feet.
“I don’t see a veil, and it looks pretty bright to me.” Zaidee’s voice crept out in sadness.
“You don’t see no veil? What about them thin clouds coverin’ its face? Just don’t seem right to hide behind darkness.” Isaac shook his head. “Well, maybe that’s ‘cause you got your own darkness to hide behind. Good night, Miss Flora.”
The old man’s footsteps faded. Zaidee remained on the iron bench. Joseph stepped into the light. His heart could take no more of her stifled sobs. He cleared his throat and sat next to her.
“I suppose if I were in your shoes, I would want to go home to my family. There isn’t any better comfort than to be wrapped in the arms of a loved one in times of trouble. I reckon you’ve had your share. I’m gonna miss you, Zaidee.” He pulled her to his chest. He fought back the desire to beg her to stay and prayed she would change her mind. But he couldn’t ask her to; if she wanted to go, she was free to move on.
“I-I don’t have any family. Why did you call me Zaidee?” Her angelic voice fell sad and forlorn in the quiet night.
His heart clenched with the thought that she was all alone. She had no one to turn to. He couldn’t let her leave.
He stood and shuffled his feet. The silence between them unnerved him. “I know the story about your brother and the school. You don’t have to leave. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
His heart did a turn-around. Did this mean she would stay longer? He could only hope.
She jumped up from the seat and wrapped her arms around his neck. With force he didn’t know she had, she clung to him. Her warm tears trickled down her neck. He could feel her pounding heart against his chest.
She raised her glistening face and pressed her lips to his. Her well-rounded curves pushed against his rigid body. He heard her gasp.
“What is it?” He froze as he whispered softly against her ear.
“The veil is leaving the moon, just like Isaac said. It is brighter now and more beautiful.”
Joseph laughed as he bent to pick up her valise. He offered her his arm and escorted her back to her room. He lifted her chin with his knuckles and placed a light kiss on her lips. “I’ll give you your space. Good night, Miss Flora.”
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, Zaidee followed him into the barn. “Joseph. I need to tell you something.” The time had to be now. Joseph deserved to know the truth before he set out to hunt the strangers who were hunting her.
“Flora, this can wait. Mr. Lawrence is here to destroy you, and I don’t intend to let that happen.”
“But Joseph…” Zaidee took hold of his arm. Joseph spun around, grabbed her shoulders, and lowered his lips to hers. The intensity of the kiss sent pulses through Zaidee’s lips and into the depths of her heart and soul. When he released her, she staggered backward and leaned against a stall wall. She tried to continue, but her lips failed to move.
“I promise I’ll return tonight, Flora. Don’t worry, everyone here is safe. The men have set up extra security. The less we travel, the less chances Lawrence has to do harm.” Joseph mounted his horse. He rode out of the barn and joined the waiting riders. A cloud of dust lingered in the air as they rode off to search the surrounding areas of the plantation.
Walking into the sunlight, Zaidee shaded her eyes and watched the dust disappear in the wind. She stared until the last rider rode out of her sight before she turned back to Clara. Miss Lola had joined Clara while Zaidee had been in the barn.
Zaidee threw her hands in the air and stomped her foot. “He wouldn’t even listen to me. He’s the most infuriating, pig-headed man I’ve ever met. He only listens to me when it is for his convenience and not when I need to tell him something important. He makes me so mad I could—” She looked into the confused eyes of Clara and Lola. “Well, I could.”
Clara and Lola glanced at one another. “Just like a Solomon.” Clara couldn’t suppress her laughter any longer.
“He’ll listen when the time is right. He will listen.” Lola shook her head.
Their amusement at her frustration went ignored by Zaidee. She glanced once more in the direction where the group of riders were scattering.
“Let’s go for a walk in the gardens. Just the three of us. The children are playing games, and we have time before lunch. Lola and I’ll show you around so you can get to know this place. Lola, can we go to your cabin first? I want to show Flora the chest.” Clara’s twinkling eyes ignited Zaidee’s curiosity.
“You know we can. When have I ever denied you that chest?” Lola’s dark eyes sparkled with joy.
Perhaps they were right. She needed something to calm her nerves, before she could speak rationally.
Zaidee relaxed on the walk to the largest log cabin built behind the mansion. Zaidee and Lola watched Clara skip ahead of them. She waited with impatience for Lola to open the door. Clara ran in and hit the floor on her knees in front of a large trunk.
Lola laughed then turned to Zaidee. “You should’ve seen the three of them girls flyin’ in this house and hittin’ that flo’ like that. Oh, the hours I spent picking splinters out of their boney knees.”
Zaidee swallowed the lump in her throat. Her eyes scanned the back of the grown woman, who’d transformed into a young girl. Zaidee hit the floor alongside Clara. Under her breath Lola said, “Just like ole times,” and fell beside the two girls. Zaidee went to digging in the chest, searching for the perfect treasure.
Zaidee listened to their stories as she trifled through the chest. Tales of trying on veils, necklaces made of stones or corn or whatever Clara, Cybil, and Sarah had been able to find when they were young. She peered at her reflection in the old, handheld mirror as if she were dressed for a grand ball. She passed it on to Clara and Lola. They laughed and complimented each other on their ‘lovely’ appearance.
Zaidee and Lola laughed and joined Clara at the table to drink their make-believe punch. “Would you look at that man over there, who is he? I sure would like to know him.” Lola laughed, looking at an empty corner.
“Oh, that’s David, he’s here visiting his aunt and uncle. He’s from up north somewhere near the colonies.” Zaidee waved her hand in the air.
“He’s quite handsome, Lola. Flora, since you know him, why don’t you introduce that gentleman to us?” Clara leaned into the table.
“I don’t really know him. I heard the ladies in the mercantile talking the other day. It was rude of me, I know, to eavesdrop on their conversation. Did you know,” Zaidee lowered her voice, glanced around, then continued, “he’s married and his wife ran away with some sort of salesman from one of the traveling shows?”
Zaidee laughed so hard she didn’t hear the door swing open when Lola’s husband, Isaac, entered the cabin. Silently he grabbed a tray. Holding it butler-style, he approached the table with the tray above his head. His shoulders pushed back and his gaze focused straight ahead. “Would anyone care for more punch? You ladies do know it’s not polite to spread gossip about the foreigner.”
After the initial shock of Isaac playing their little game, they shot each other glances and then laughed until Zaidee’s sides ached.
“What are you doing, Isaac?” Lola choked back a laugh and caught her breath.
“I’m here to guard you three. I’m standin’ by the doo’ and heard three young beautiful women ’tendin’ a ball. I’m drawn into the memories. Jest like ole times,” he said. “I best get back to the po’ch and stand guard. If the Mr.’s knowed I’m in playin’ girl games, they’s apt to dismiss me.” He laughed, then walked to the door and quietly let himself out.