“Phallus what?” Tyler asked.
Brazos grinned, recalling his own similar reaction. “Phalansterians. Followers of Charles Fourier Builders of a Texas Utopia. Tell me, Tyler can you think of a better place to hide the most beautiful woman on earth than in Utopia?”
“It does seem appropriate. Juanita will fit right in. I only hope Salezan’s men won’t realize it too.” He hesitated a moment before asking, “But what about Madeline? She’s liable to put up a hiss over this.”
“I know how to keep her mouth shut.” At Tyler’s questioning look, Brazos smiled meanly and said, “I’ll simply follow my bride’s example. I don’t figure blackmail is near as bad a crime as kidnapping. I’ll make certain she does as we want.” As he gigged his horse into a canter he called back over his shoulder “Don’t worry, Tyler Salezan’s men will follow you and me to Magnolia Bend. They’ll leave the colonists completely alone. I’m certain of it.”
Watching the puffs of sand kicked up by his brother’s horse, Tyler considered Brazos’s plan and thought of a saying their father often repeated. Nerve succeeds. “I hope to hell Pa’s right,” he said, kicking his horse into a run and trailing Brazos.
But he couldn’t shake the worry that this time, nerve wouldn’t be enough.
Chapter 10
WHILE MAKING TRAVEL ARRANGEMENTS for the next leg of their journey, Victor Considérant learned that a local merchant expected the arrival of a shipment of farm implements from New Orleans within the week. After consulting with his assistants, he made the decision to delay the colonists’ departure from Galveston until the valuable supplies could be purchased.
Madeline took a room at the Powhattan Hotel along with the other colonists, and what had begun as a way of spending idle hours developed into a frenzy of shopping that left the islanders awestruck. All around town, Galvestonians shook their heads in Madeline’s wake. It simply wasn’t done that way. Texans traveled to Europe to shop. The fool woman had it backward.
In truth, she had discovered that by burying herself in the island shops, few that they were, she was able to forget—at least for a little while—the ache she’d carried in her chest since Brazos Sinclair had left her at the cottage.
She’d also determined that paying for items from baby bonnets to cheese using Julian Desseau’s money had a certain charm of its own. She’d actually found it more satisfying than stealing. It’d been quite a revelation for a woman who’d never before had money to spend as she pleased. Madeline spent three full days in the shops of Galveston without snatching a thing.
Well, almost three days. She had indulged the itch yesterday when she encountered Brazos’s cousin Trixie at a milliner’s. The handkerchief in the woman’s pocket had fluttered temptingly, catching Rose’s eye before disappearing into Madeline’s hand. The child waved it about even now, as the colonists gathered at the harbor to board a steamboat for the trip up Buffalo Bayou to Houston.
Lillibet Brunet took one look at the vessel and said, “Oh, my heavens, we’ll not live to see the sunset. Listen to that engine. It’s roaring and boiling as though it’s alive and in a rage.”
“Actually, it reminds me of Brazos,” Madeline observed, foolishly breaking her silence on the subject of her former husband.
It was all the opening Lillibet required. As the steamer, Christy Ann, chugged its way across Galveston Bay and into the mouth of Buffalo Bayou, she plied Madeline with questions concerning the missing Mr. Sinclair. “Lillibet, please,” Madeline finally said as she fed Rose tiny bites of a banana. “I told you when I returned to the Powhattan that Brazos had left me. Neither you nor anyone else should have been surprised by it. After all, we never made any secret of the reasons behind our marriage.”
“I know,” Lillibet said with a sigh. “It’s just that I had great hopes for the two of you. You were such a beautiful pair, and I truly believed we’d convinced Mr. Brazos to embrace the Phalansterian way of life.”
Madeline stifled an inelegant snort. “Really, Lil. Brazos only paid attention to the Fourierist doctrines concerning Free Love. Once he discovered the La Réunion colony wouldn’t put those ideas into practice, he lost all interest.” She punctuated her point by taking a bite from the banana.
“Well, I suppose you’re right. Still, I shall miss him. You have to admit, the man was wonderful with the children.”
Madeline felt a tingle of unease at her friend’s words. Brazos had developed an undeniable affection for Rose, and the words he’d spoken that difficult night continued to haunt her. Your nightmares are only just beginning.
What had he meant? What did he intend to do? For two days, she’d expected a visit from him, half afraid he’d appear with the authorities in tow. Yesterday, when Trixie’s offhand comment revealed that Brazos had departed Galveston Island two days earlier, Madeline had reeled in shock. He’d not only left her following their night together, he’d left the entire island.
That was when Madeline had picked Trixie’s pocket.
Buffalo Bayou was little more than a narrow creek, and twice during the trip, passengers were pressed into service to pole the boat upstream. By early afternoon, the colonists cheered the sight of the three-story warehouses lining the shore that announced the steamer’s arrival in Houston.
Named after the hero of San Jacinto and the president of the Republic of Texas, Houston was a rowdy town where saloons outnumbered churches six to one. The steamer’s captain assured the Europeans that a number of hotels in town offered safe, comfortable lodging for travelers, but one of the Fourierists suggested they establish a campsite instead. Victor Considérant called for a vote, and Madeline waved her hand high along with the majority as the immigrants chose to begin camp life on their first night in Houston.
Locating an appropriate spot on the prairie west of town, the colonists circled their chests and trunks and established cooking and sleeping arrangements to be observed during the three-week overland trek to Central Texas. Anxious to begin the final leg of their journey to La Réunion, they made quick work of buying wagons and oxen and hiring teamsters to lead them to their final destination.
Madeline used Julian Desseau’s money to purchase a wagon and the livestock required to pull it. She hired a tall, wiry man, Mr. Cole Johnston, to act as her driver. Mr. Johnston handled the team well, and Madeline found his anecdotes about Texas both informative and amusing. In many ways, he reminded her of Brazos.
On a bright spring morning four days following their arrival in Houston, and accompanied by the serenade of a raucous mob of robins, the wagon train headed north toward a section of land just across the Trinity River from the small village called Dallas. There they would build Utopia.
At first, their trail took them over prairie, making good time at ten to twelve miles a day. But on the fourth day, the wisps of clouds drifting high on a bleached sky disappeared from sight as the line of wagons entered a region of towering forests.
In places, the road was no more than a trail, and the colonists took axes and hoes to clear a path through the underbrush and ravines. Twice Madeline hopped down from the wagon to help, although in the second instance, the sight of an ugly green snake with black markings had her scrambling back into her seat. Through it all, the teamsters preached sermons to their oxen, urging them forward with language that at times had Madeline covering little Rose’s ears.
Though travel through the forests was slower the end of each day afforded the colonists a sense of accomplishment, and by the close of the first week, they’d established a smooth routine for setting up camp. Once a site had been chosen, a handful of colonists cut brush and piled it into a heap for a fire. Others put up the tents and dug trenches around them to keep out the snakes. Still others got out the pots and kettles and began cooking the meal.
Madeline enjoyed the camp-making most of all. She found it quite in keeping with Fourier’s philosophies that she was able to choose trench digging over cooking for her part of the work.
Not that she ever was a
llowed to do much work. It quickly became obvious that when Victor Considérant had argued back in Antwerp that a woman alone on the frontier would face insurmountable difficulties, he had failed to take into account the economies of supply and demand. Single men, from wealthy Phalansterians to impoverished wagon drivers, all but came to blows over the opportunity to haul water, move trunks, build fires, or any other job Madeline might wish done. As her wagon driver; Mr. Johnston, took to saying, “Goldurn, Miz Madeline, you’ve done got the pick of whatever litter you want.”
And she’d been working at picking. Madeline’s top priority was finding a husband. Only this time, she intended to be more selective. If she searched for blue eyes or wavy black hair or a toe-tingling smile in every man she met, well, that didn’t mean anything.
All right, so maybe it meant a little something. But she was trying her very best to stop it.
Brazos Sinclair had touched her deeply, in a way she could not define. Was it because she’d given herself to him physically? Would she know this same sense of…depth with any man?
Whatever it was, it had caused great pain. Madeline hoped she’d never again experience the ache she had known the night he left her.
One week into the overland trip, Madeline rode in the bed of her wagon, cuddling Rose, who sniffled and snored her way through her afternoon nap. As she had so often since that night out of time in Galveston, she thought back over her weeks spent with Brazos and sighed. As badly as this had hurt, it could have been much worse. Imagine what it would have felt like if she had been in love with him.
It probably would have killed her.
Madeline didn’t know exactly what it was she felt for Brazos Sinclair, but it wasn’t love. She knew what love was. Love was the joy she knew in her heart when she’d watched Rose learn to crawl. Love was that warm feeling that filled her when she heard Rose’s laughter. Love was the tears that swam in her eyes whenever Rose lifted her chin for a kiss.
Madeline loved Rose. True, she’d never experienced the emotion before, but she recognized it in what she felt for her daughter. She prayed she would find the same sort of sentiments with a man—those feelings of warmth, safety, security. Not that dangerous, reckless, blood-pounding nonsense she experienced around Brazos Sinclair.
The wagon lurched to a stop, and Madeline sat up. After opening her eyes and staring up at her mother, Rose blinked, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and went back to sleep. Madeline smoothed the blanket over the baby’s back, pressed a kiss to her cheek, then left the wagon.
The wagon train had exited the great forest. She stared around her, and a delighted smile spread across her face. How wonderful to see so much sky once again! Before her stretched miles of rolling hills dotted with hardwood trees and covered with prairie grass and wildflowers of every hue. Upon checking with Lillibet, Madeline learned that Considérant had called an early halt to the day’s travel. In recognition of having traversed one-third of the distance between Houston and La Réunion, the colonists would hold a fête that evening. Lillibet had a gleam in her eye as she said, “Dearling, you must wear that blue rosebud-patterned silk. Mr. Litty will be blinded by your beauty in that dress.”
Madeline looked at her friend sharply. “Mr. Litty?”
“Now, Madeline, I am not a stupid woman. I know you want a man—as right you should. It’s the way of the world. Rose needs a father and you need a man to keep you warm at night. While I hate to give up on Mr. Brazos, I fear we’ve seen the last of him.”
“I certainly hope so,” Madeline said softly.
Lillibet tilted her head, giving Madeline a knowing glance. “After watching you aboard the Uriel, I know that none of our Frenchmen have caught your fancy. Am I wrong?”
Watching a hawk sail circles against an azure sky, Madeline shook her head and sighed. “You wouldn’t be speaking this way if I were a bachelor, Lil. It’s not fair—not equal—that an unmarried woman should be treated as though she wishes for nothing more in life than to have a man on her arm.”
Lillibet laughed and rested her hands on her stomach, now well rounded in pregnancy. “You are absolutely right, Madeline. If you were a man, I would never suggest the blue silk as an appropriate dress.” Madeline rolled her eyes as Lillibet continued, “Now, Madeline, I understand what you are saying, but I’ve also seen the wistful looks you send our way when André and I discuss the home we plan to make with Thomas and the new baby. You can’t deny that.”
“You’re right, Lil. I want to make a home and family for Rose. That is very important to me.”
“Well, then. You wear that blue silk this evening. I’m loath to admit it, but I’ve done a bit of snooping where our wagon master is concerned.”
Madeline refused to ask outright, but she would listen. Benjamin Litty was the nicest and most gentlemanly man among the Texans who had been hired by the colonists to lead the wagon train north. Without being a pest like some of the single men—and a few of the married ones, truth be told—Mr. Litty had managed to convey his interest in her through an occasional smile or significant look. They’d shared a number of pleasant, casual conversations over the past week. He was definitely the best prospect for a husband Madeline had met so far.
“He’s a widower, Madeline,” Lillibet allowed, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes. “He owns a ranch near Dallas, and he has two young children, both boys. He’s looking for a mother for them. Considérant was able to hire him to lead us because he had traveled to South Texas to meet a Yankee woman with whom he’d been corresponding. She was to have sailed to Galveston where they planned to marry. Only she sent a letter of regret instead.”
“He doesn’t seem the type of man who’d have told you all this,” Madeline commented suspiciously.
Lillibet nodded. “I received the information directly from Marie Deauville, who heard it from Michelle Louis, who learned it from Charley, the man driving their wagon. Charley was disgruntled because Mr. Litty wanted nothing to do with the wagoner’s sister, a horse-faced woman I myself met in the Houston mercantile. One cannot get information much more reliable, dearling.”
Madeline glanced across the camp to see Ben Litty assist the Deauvilles’ driver in fettering the oxen. He was a quite handsome man. With brilliant green eyes and sun-bleached hair, he was even more handsome than Brazos Sinclair, “You know, Lillibet,” she said, “I believe that blue dress is in the smaller of my trunks.”
THE BALLROOM’S walls were cedar trees, its ceiling the vast expanse of heaven. The luminous, full moon hung as chandelier, and the thousands of stars dangled, glittering crystals reflecting the light. The carpet was a rug of natural green, sort and sweet-scented and new. A lone violin accompanied an orchestra of trilling toads, chirping crickets, twittering birds, and the haunting whisper of wind through the forest at the colonists’ backs. The setting was as fine a salon as any ever visited in Europe.
The colonists and their Texan friends ate and drank and debated the politics of the time, from the Know-Nothing Party’s gaining strength across the country to the benefits of communal agriculture.
Madeline danced. She twirled and whirled almost exclusively on the arms of the handsome and attentive wagon master. A tall, rugged-looking man, Ben Litty had entertained her throughout supper with stories about a pet pig he’d owned while growing up on a farm in East Texas. She’d found herself laughing, really laughing, for the first time since Brazos had left her.
It felt wonderful.
Desiring a break from the dancing, Madeline allowed Ben to lead her away from the campsite. They walked in the meadow along the edge of the forest, watching the stars and talking. “I certainly enjoyed the stew you fixed, Miz Madeline,” he said, holding her elbow for support as she stepped over a fallen log.
Madeline shrugged. “The stew was edible, but I am sorry about those biscuits.”
“Not to worry, ma’am, the oxen’ll eat ‘em. You’ll find very little goes to waste on the frontier.”
The air rippled with the sweet, clea
n scent of pine, and Madeline found it a pleasing change from days of travel downwind of oxen. Mr. Litty took her hand.
Suddenly and without any outward change in the surroundings, Madeline sensed a sinister presence around her. Uneasy, she slowed her step. “Perhaps we should return to camp, Ben. Mr. Johnston has told me stories about the panthers that stalk the woods and prairies, and I’ll admit I’ve the strangest feeling that I’m being watched.”
Ben Litty turned to her, a half-teasing, half-serious look in his eyes. “Are you afraid I can’t protect you, Miz Madeline? That’s a hard blow to a Texan, ma’am. We’re terribly protective of our womenfolk, you know.”
“It’s not you,” Madeline hastened to say. “I’ll admit that after traveling through the forest day after day, I came to see things in the trees—things that weren’t there.”
Litty smiled in understanding. “It can be a little spooky, I know. But there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got a gun, and the animals are truly more afraid of us than we are of them. I reckon, though, we ought to turn back. We have been gone a bit. I enjoy your company, Madeline. I wouldn’t want to hurt your reputation in any way.”
“Oh, Ben.” Madeline couldn’t help laughing. “Believe me, the colonists won’t think a thing of my spending time with you. I can see you’re not overly familiar with Phalansterian beliefs.”
From somewhere deep in the trees came a crashing sound, and instinctively, Madeline stepped closer to Litty. Chuckling, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Madeline, I don’t want you to be afraid.”
She looked up at him and recognized the flash of desire in his gaze. Well, Madeline, she said to herself, if you’re serious about replacing Brazos Sinclair you’d best be about it.
And Mr. Litty did have such a nice smile. And pretty eyes, such a deep green with little flecks of amber. As it turned out, his kiss wasn’t half bad, either. He brushed her lips with his, gentle and questioning at first, and when she offered no protest, he drew her closer and fit his mouth firmly against hers.
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