Ceci pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, sobbing quietly. “We’ll go home, right now,” she told her resolutely. “I’ll speak to my daddy.”
“No,” Hecubah gripped her arm, making her wince. It was the first time she’d ever seen fear in the woman’s eyes. “Don’t do that, child. If you loves me. I mean really loves me, you’ll let it be.”
“But why?” Ceci implored.
Hecubah sighed heavily, as she recalled an unwelcome memory. “I weren’t no older than you when I stood on that auction block,” she began to explain. “A whole lot of men wanted to buy me, for a lot of ugly reasons, but there was this one man. He out bid all the rest. Spent a small fortune and saved me from Lord knows what.”
“Then why didn’t he free you?” Ceci wanted to know.
“He couldn’t,” Hecubah sighed again. “The money he used to buy me weren’t his. He smuggled me onto the plantation. Signed my name into the books and I became the property of the estate.”
“Then my daddy does own you,” Ceci concluded. “He will free you for the asking.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Hecubah agreed, “but if the truth came out, it would destroy that other man and I owe him so much.”
“Don’t you want to be free?” Ceci asked.
“Freedom’s just a word, honey,” Hecubah spared her a humourless smile. “It’s what you feel inside that counts. I like my life the way it is. So, you see, child, if you go charging in with all your good intentions, trying to fix things that ain’t broke, all you’ll do is stir up a whole mess of trouble and hurt a lot of good people, me most of all.” She reached over, lifting Ceci’s chin up. “So, you keep quiet about it, child. Swear to me you won’t tell a soul about what you learned today.”
“I swear,” Ceci agreed, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “But, you won’t be a slave forever, not if Mr Lincoln has his way. Then you’ll all be free.”
“Oh, sure,” Hecubah gestured casually, “that’s what abolition is supposed to be all about. I told you before, freedom’s just a word. Them men and women, working in the fields, don’t even own the clothes they wear, the homes they live in, or the food they eat. All freedom’s gonna mean to them is dispossession and starvation. If folks hereabouts has to pay for help, they’ll hire a white man, not a black man.”
“Surely, something has to be done?” Ceci insisted.
“That’s for sure,” Hecubah agreed. “I just hope it’s a wise decision that prevails, or everyone, both slave and freeman is gonna suffer.” Hecubah’s mood suddenly brightened. “All that talking’s made me dry,” she exclaimed. “Let’s go find ourselves that glass of sarsaparilla.”
“Did you never want a husband?” Ceci asked, drying her eyes. “And a family of your own?”
“I’ve had my share of men,” Hecubah told her, uncharacteristically forthright. Black and white. Don’t you look at me that way, girl. What? Did you think you’d invented it?” She wiped away the last of Ceci’s tears, before they evaporated on her hot cheeks. “As for family,” she told her softly, “you has always bin my little girl. C’mon,” she urged. “Buck up now. Look at me. It’s still your Hecubah and that ain’t never gonna change.”
They gathered up their parcels, linked arms and set off in search of sarsaparilla.
“Those men you mentioned,” Ceci asked, after a while, eaten up with lurid curiosity. “Do they live on the plantation? Do I know any of them?”
“Mind your own business.”
“I was just asking.”
***
“Lace is too expensive to throw away,” Hecubah explained. “So when you finds a snag, you has to repair it,” she demonstrated, hunched in a chair, working deftly with a fine needle, as Ceci sat on the floor beside her, watching intently.
“Oh darn,” Hecubah sighed in frustration. “I’ve run outa white thread.” She glanced down at Ceci. “There’s another spool in the store cupboard downstairs. Be a dear and save these old legs.”
Ceci rolled her eyes. “You’re only thirty-four, Hecubah. Your legs ain’t old.”
“Save them anyway,” Hecubah patted her cheek.
“Of course,” Ceci smiled, jumping up. “I’ll be right back.”
She’d just reached the foot of the stairs, when she heard a commotion at the front door. She peeked around the corner. Several men had arrived, friends of her father, other plantation owners. They all appeared to be in a state of considerable agitation. Her father quickly ushered them into the morning room, where a heated discussion quickly got under way.
Ever curious, Ceci tip-toed up to the door, wondering what all the fuss was about.
“It looks like Lincoln’s going to be elected,” one of them was saying. “If that happens, we’ll have a president whose only interests are the North and abolition.”
“We will be controlled by a federal government that has no concept of how the South lives,” said another. “It is our constitutional right to oppose such an injustice.”
“If South Carolina secedes, the rest will follow,” her father’s voice was easily recognisable among the others. “And that means war.”
“Any state has the right to leave the Union, that’s in the Constitution,” he was answered. “But Lincoln would deny all that. The South relies on cotton and the slaves to pick it. Slavery has been abolished in every state north of the Mason-Dixon line. Neither is it legal in the New Territories. If Lincoln comes to power, he will try and enforce the same thing on the South, crippling our economy.”
“As sane men, we should strive to find a better solution,” her father insisted.
“The solution, as I see it,” yet another voice entered the debate. “Is to create a confederation of southern states, form our own government and elect our own president. Jeff Davis would be a good man. Let’s see ol’ Abe try and stop that.”
“Our society is based on a one crop economy.” her father told them. “All the manufacturing and heavy industry is in the north. If we go to war, we’ll have to import everything we need to fight it. That’s where they’ll hit us first, by cutting our supply lines. We’ll be facing attrition. If we lose the war, we’ll lose everything, for all time.”
The men’s anxiety was infectious. Even though she’d failed to understand much of what she’d heard, the little she had grasped terrified her.
“Where you bin all this time? I was about to send out a search party.”
“What’s secession?” Ceci asked anxiously.
Hecubah sighed. “You bin eavesdropping again?”
“How can there be a war? It’s the same country.” Ceci remarked naively.
“Child, I seen one man kill another for a crust of stale bread,” Hecubah told her. “I seen two dogs tear each other apart over a dry bone. There can be a war.”
Ceci crossed the room and knelt beside her. “What’ll happen?”
Hecubah sighed, shaking her head. “Country turns in on itself, splits, fights. Whoever comes out on top, that’s what the country will become.”
“All because of slavery?”
“That’s what they say. South wants to keep them. North wants to set them free. There’s the war.”
“Then why don’t the South free the slaves and leave the war?” Ceci suggested innocently.
Hecubah sighed again. “It ain’t that simple, honey. I only wish it was.”
“Dear Lord,” Ceci realised suddenly. “Trent’s in the north. I’m in the south.”
“Hush now,” Hecubah comforted. “Don’t you fret none. There’s a ways to go yet. Hopefully cooler heads will prevail before then.” She paused, squeezing Ceci’s hand. “I done told you before. No good ever comes of eavesdropping. You wanna know anything else about what’s going on. You come and ask me first. No more listening at doors. You’ll just upset yourself.” She smiled dow
n at Ceci. “You’ll be seeing Trent again soon, long before any war. If there ever is one.”
Chapter Seven
“Ain’t it just wonderful,” Ceci danced around the room, hugging herself, giddy with excitement. “Trent’s arriving tomorrow and my daddy’s letting him stay here.”
“Don’t seem like he had a whole lot of choice, after you told him you’d kill yourself if he didn’t,” Hecubah pointed out.
Ceci stopped prancing and thrust her hands onto her hips, regarding her earnestly. “Why, I’m sure he didn’t believe that,” she remarked dismissively.
“Your poor daddy,” Hecubah sighed. “I used to think Miss Celeste had him wrapped around her little finger, but these days you puts her in the shade.”
Ceci wasn’t listening. “Oh, just think of it,” she began to dance again. “A whole month with him.”
“I’ll be grey by then,” Hecubah muttered to herself.
“What ‘d you say?”
“I said, he’ll stay then.”
“Why, I just said that, silly.”
“I’m putting him in the east wing,” Hecubah told her.
Ceci came to an abrupt halt. “All the way down there?” She put her hands on her hips again, frowning. “You don’t have to worry about Trent. He’s a gentleman.”
“It’s not him that concerns me,” Hecubah informed her bluntly. “It’s you.”
Ceci was outraged. “That ain’t fair.”
“You think so?” Hecubah raised her eyebrows at her. “I done counted those books on the top shelf in the library. There were five missing.”
Ceci glanced away, chewing her lip. “I put them back since.”
“That’s mighty big of you,” Hecubah would not be appeased. “Next I suppose you’ll be telling me, you’ve forgotten everything you’ve read. I looked at one chapter. Near went blind.”
“They ain’t that bad,” Ceci pouted.
“Really? and what’d base that opinion on? Other books you read?”
“I was just curious,” Ceci remarked, staring at the floor. “Nothing wrong with being curious.”
“I dare say,” Hecubah conceded. “But you’re one cat I’m determined it aint gonna kill. That reminds me,” she added, as an afterthought. “After what I read in that chapter, I locked away all your French underwear. Just for safe keeping.”
Ceci was momentarily confounded by this effrontery. “Then I shall wear none at all,” she retorted stubbornly.
“There’s a hickory tree, right out there, in the garden,” Hecubah pointed. “I can cut a switch any time I want. A bare bottom will make an easy target.”
Ceci wouldn’t put it past her. “All right,” she capitulated, the brief battle of wills drawing to a close. “I’ll behave.”
“See that you do.”
“Don’t you trust me, Hecubah?” she asked, in her most innocent voice.
“Hell, no,” Hecubah was having none of it. “Not for a minute. You forget, I was your age once.”
After one of the most restless nights Ceci had ever experienced, she awoke, almost beside herself with excitement. Consequently, she spent the best part of the morning driving Hecubah to distraction.
“No. You ain’t waiting at the end of the drive,” she refused to permit it. “Let him come to you. Good Lord, girl. Show a little style.”
Ceci finally persuaded Hecubah to let her stand on the front steps, where she waited impatiently, hopping from one foot to the other.
“Try not to wet your drawers, honey,” Hecubah advised tonelessly. “It’s a real passion killer.”
Eventually, Trent appeared at the gate, riding a great black horse he’d rented in the town. He waved briefly, then galloped full tilt down the drive, rearing his horse in front of them, pulling off his hat in a wide, sweeping salute.
“That boy sure knows how to make an entrance,” Hecubah had to admit.
Ceci was completely captivated by the gesture, clapping her hands and squealing with delight. As the horse settled down, she ran up to him. He leaned down, lifting her effortlessly onto the saddle, in front of him, where they shared a long passionate kiss.
Hecubah just stared, her mouth hanging open. “Good Lord,” she murmured dismally. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”
“Did you see, Hecubah? Did you see?” Ceci asked, flushed and breathless, once Trent had set her back on the ground and dismounted himself.
“I saw,” Hecubah grunted. “Looked like something off the cover of a dime novel.”
“Oh, Hecubah,” Ceci scolded. “What will it take to impress you?”
“Next time, he can lift me onto his saddle. That’d impress me.”
“Good to see you again, Hecubah,” Trent planted a particularly large, wet kiss on her cheek.
“I knew it,” she muttered, pulling the back of her hand across her face. “I just knew it. That boy’s a rascal.” She watched as the pair entered the house, allowing herself a long lingering glance at Trent. “Mind, if I was ten years younger,” she considered briefly. “Enough,” she rebuked herself. “We already got one woman on heat in the house, and that’s plenty.”
Ceci’s father welcomed Trent to their home. Whatever views he or the young northerner held on the current political situation, they were never mentioned. As for Ceci herself, all her thoughts were centred on Trent, while the threat of war gradually faded to the back of her mind.
“God almighty,” Hecubah jumped. “Every time I turn a corner, there’s you two smooching. You bin at it for days. Ain’t you tired yet? Ain’t your lips sore? You, Trent Sinclaire,” she wagged her finger at him. “You hold her any closer and you gonna be standing inside her dress. I hope you can manage to keep your hands off her tonight at the theatre. There’s laws against that sort of thing in public.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Trent acknowledged politely.
Hecubah glared at him, then marched off.
Ceci began to giggle.
“I think she enjoys scolding me,” he decided.
“I think so to,” Ceci laughed outright.
“Are your lips sore?” he asked, pulling her even closer.
She draped her arms around his neck. “No,” she breathed softly. “Want to help me get them that way?”
***
“Go to sleep or I’m gonna have to knock you out,” Hecubah warned. “Come on honey, you bin going at it all day, dashing around on the lawn with him, shrieking at the top of your lungs. What were you doing?”
“It was just a game,” Ceci told her, her eyelids getting heavier.
“Just a game,” Hecubah nodded. “You run off and if he can catch you, he kisses you.”
“Something like that,” Ceci responded drowsily.
“From what I saw, he caught you an awful lot of times. Girl, I knows you can run faster than that.”
“Then he wouldn’t have caught me so often.”
“I figured that out. I suppose I should be grateful he contented himself with holding your hand at the theatre, last week, instead of chasing you up and down the aisle.”
“I wouldn’t have minded,” Ceci mumbled, her eyes beginning to close.
“You get some sleep,” Hecubah insisted. “He ain’t gonna want to chase you, if you turn up bleary eyed and haggard.”
Ceci was already asleep.
Hecubah leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead. “That’s right, honey. You dream about him. “It’s safer that way.”
***
“Trent’s driving me into town in the buggy,” Ceci announced. “We’re going to have ice cream at the drug store.”
“Ice cream,” Hecubah repeated sceptically.
“You’re very welcome to join us,” Trent offered chivalrously, ignoring Ceci’s sideways glance.
&nb
sp; “I guess that would be as popular as a bullfrog swimming in a bowl of punch,” Hecubah concluded. “You two go on ahead, but mind you keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Trent assured her.
“I wasn’t talking to you, son. I meant her,” she corrected him.
“Hecubah,” Ceci cried indignantly, “it’s just ice cream.”
“Ah huh.”
***
“What’s going on?” Ceci wondered, as they drove through the main street of town.
A large crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. A group of men were addressing them. As they drew nearer they could hear them opposing abolition and inciting secession.
Trent slapped the reins, urging the horse into a trot, taking them swiftly past. When he’d put some distance between them and the crowd, he pulled the buggy into the side of the road and stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Ceci asked, noticing the look of concern on his face.
“In a few months, I’ll graduate from West Point,” he told her. “My whole class will graduate. In that class are men from all over the Union. I’ve lived with them, worked with them, they’re my friends, brother officers. If there’s a war between the states,” he frowned, “half of them will be on the other side.”
“What will you do?” Ceci asked, wide eyed.
“The only thing I can do,” he replied gravely. “My duty, as will they.”
“Will that make me your enemy to?” she wondered naively.
He glanced down at her, a broad smile banishing his dark mood. “That’s right, it will,” he slipped a playful arm about her waist. “I’ll have to take you prisoner.”
“That will not be necessary, sir,” she admonished him, easing herself from his grasp. “I believe, I have already surrendered.”
“I guess that’s the first victory to the North,” he suggested.
She laid her hand gently against his cheek. “I think the South’s won something to.”
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