Dueling Hearts

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Woodson and Enoch were crouched down, plucking weeds from around tiny melon sprouts. Her mouth watered at the thought of the juicy fruit that always tasted refreshing on a hot day. Woodson stood and sauntered toward her. She reined Lulu to a stop and waited.

  “Seedlin’s is lookin’ good.”

  She nodded. “Yes, they are. I’m sure hoping for a nice crop this year.”

  He nodded. “I’m askin’ the good Lord for His blessing on your land, too.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you.”

  The tall, thin man shook his head. “No, Miz ’Rina, it’s a selfish prayer. I likes to eat as good as any person, and my Betsey, she needs plenty of them good vege’bles to keep her happy and cookin’ up a storm.” He grinned and winked at her.

  Carina chuckled. “That’s true, but I do thank you anyway.” She nodded to the left. “Speaking of vegetables, looks like some of our greens are ready to be picked. Can you get to that before lunch, so I can let Betsey know to expect them?”

  “Yes’m, we can do that. I’d best get back to work, or Enoch’ll get ahead of me. We’s racin’ to see who can weed our section the fastest.”

  “Go on then.” She smiled her thanks, and he nodded, then ambled back to where he had been working. Woodson never seemed in a hurry, but he was a hard worker and managed to keep the other men productive. She was blessed to have such loyal people working for her.

  Blessed. That wasn’t a word she’d often used. Her life had been so hard. Was it true, as Betsey had said, that her burdens would be lighter if she had faith in God? She tilted her head back, lifted the brim of her sun hat, and gazed up at the sky. Are You truly up there, God?

  No answer came, but her thoughts turned to a scripture she’d read in her mother’s Bible the night before. Something about God blessing her land if she humbled herself and prayed.

  Betsey had told her many times that she should open her heart to her heavenly Fader. To trust Him and rely on Him to lighten her burdens. That He was a Fader of love, patience, and peace.

  But she’d never had a loving fader. Wouldn’t even know what one was if not for watching Woodson with Sammy and Etta all these years. He was firm but playful. Teaching and patient. He hugged them. Teased them. Loved them.

  She was jealous of a slave.

  And yet those slaves were her true family. They cared for her.

  Her gaze lifted to the sky. She wanted to believe there was a greater power at work in the world. One who cared about people. One who cared about her. “Help me, God. Show me that You are real.”

  ❧

  Carina rode into the yard and discovered a buggy near the paddock. A pair of feet hung over the backseat—the napping driver, she suspected. Her gaze shot to the house then down at her old work dress. She swiped her eyes, damp from tears that had come as she beseeched God to help her.

  Sammy left Chester’s side, where he’d been stacking wood, and raced toward her. “Mama says to tell you that Mizzes Bishop be here and fo’ you to get on inside in a hurry.”

  She slid to the ground and tossed him Lulu’s reins. No need to tell him to take care of her beloved horse. Untying her bonnet, she hurried around to the far side of the house and peeked into the kitchen that set back a hundred feet or so from the main building. Stomach-teasing odors emanated from the room, but her maid was not there. Etta sat on a stool on the far side of Betsey’s worktable, staring off into space. “Where’s your mama?”

  The girl jumped and snatched up the sampler she’d been working on for as long as Carina could remember. “You scared the wits out of me, Miz ’Rina. Made me mess up my stitchin’.”

  Pursing her lips, Carina resisted shaking her head. “Where’s Betsey?”

  “In the parlor, seein’ to Mizzes Bishop. That Doctah Boss’s mama is real nice.”

  She nodded her agreement then jogged to the back door, hung up her hat, and gazed in the mirror of the hall tree. Her cheeks were red and her unruly hair damp and curling in all the wrong directions. She licked her hands and attempted to smooth it down, but to no avail. Would it be terribly rude to just wear her hat in the house? No, Betsey would never let her get away with that.

  With a deep sigh, she hurried to the parlor, stopping just outside the entrance. Susan Bishop sat on the sofa, sipping tea and talking to Betsey. Carina’s heart flip-flopped. Had the doctor come with his mother? Abel had made no mention of him when she stopped to visit with him a few minutes ago. She leaned forward just enough to see that he wasn’t in the room. Disappointment warred with relief. She didn’t know what to say to him when she next saw him, and she knew she would before too long. Her hand lifted to the sutures in her forehead. Would it hurt when he removed them?

  “The candy is quite tasty. Hard—made of cooked molasses, brown sugar, and butter that is boiled for a half hour or so. Then you add a quart of parched and shelled groundnuts, pour the mixture in a shallow tin, and allow it to cool, so my friend from up north in Baltimore said. You break off a piece small enough to fit easily in your mouth,” Susan said. “So tasty. Oh, and imagine this. . .she found the recipe in The Carolina Housewife. Isn’t that ironic.”

  Betsey nodded, looking mesmerized, although Carina wondered if she knew what ironic meant. It was little wonder Susan’s son had no qualms about treating a black man, when his mother, the epitome of a plantation mistress, didn’t mind conversing with a slave and even treated her as an equal.

  “That sounds mighty fine. Bet my Sammy and Miz ’Rina would like that.” Betsey glanced past Susan, noticed Carina, and stood. “Speakin’ of her, here she be.”

  Susan’s warm smile helped settle Carina’s unease. “What a pleasure to have you visit again.” Carina took the seat Betsey had vacated, her mind begging to ask about Reed. Was he back from Charleston? Did he find the horse he wanted? Did he think about her while he was gone?

  “How is your head doing, dear? Does it still pain you?”

  She shook her head. “No, ma’am. Not so much.” Carina glanced down, noticing the dirt under her fingernails from when she’d walked the fields and plucked some weeds earlier. She slipped them under the folds of her skirt, which now seemed ridiculously abundant, hoping Susan wouldn’t notice. Reed’s mother always appeared perfect. Her hair was immaculate, in spite of the fact she’d ridden over in the buggy. Her dress, a beautiful royal blue and light blue, didn’t so much as have a wrinkle. Why, she doubted the woman ever sweated. “And. . .um. . .how have you been?”

  “Perfectly fine, thank you. Especially now that Reed is back.”

  Carina realized too late that she’d reacted to the mention of the doctor, and there was little doubt Susan had noticed. Her lips turned up in a gentle smile; her brown eyes twinkled.

  “I’m hoping he will come and remove these sutures. They pinch at times.”

  Susan’s smile dimmed. “I’m sure he will. He’s just a bit distracted at the moment. The men he hired to build his clinic returned from Charleston with him, and they are at this very moment laying the foundation. Reed was there watching when I passed by on my way here. His enthusiasm is as contagious as the plague.”

  She couldn’t help smiling, just imagining him out there planning where to put his surgical table, how he’d arrange his medicines and his instruments. He was a good doctor, caring and gentle.

  Susan cocked her head. “You like him, don’t you, dear?”

  She lifted her hands to her warm cheeks, knowing they gave her away. “I. . .uh. . .”

  “It’s all right. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  Susan’s hopeful smile sent prickles of guilt racing down Carina’s spine. She leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I do like your son, but there can be nothing between us other than friendship. My fader would never allow it.”

  “Fathers have a way of changing their minds when it comes to their daughters. Mine was completely opposed to my marrying Frank at first. I think it’s because he knew we’d be spending so muc
h time out at the plantation, and he would miss me. But it all worked out.”

  Carina shook her head. “My fader will never yield. In fact, if he knows I want something, he’s even more adamant against it.” The truth of the matter hurt her deep within. Susan had a father who loved her so much he didn’t want to lose her. She blinked back tears.

  “What’s wrong, dear? I’m sorry if I upset you.” Susan stood and rushed to her side, resting her hand on Carina’s shoulder. “Tell me, dear. What is it?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head. Even though she longed to share her doubts, to explain how her father mistreated her, what would it accomplish? Nobody could understand. “I would have to speak ill of my fader to explain it.”

  Susan squatted down and caught Carina’s gaze. “It’s admirable that you don’t want to talk about him, but sometimes it does a soul good to share your problems with another person. It doesn’t have to be me, but I do encourage you to find someone you’re comfortable talking with. I’ve found that it helps ease your burden.” She pushed on the armrests and slowly stood. “Oh, my knees aren’t as flexible as they used to be.”

  Carina jumped up to steady her. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, but I do believe I’ll be applying some of that liniment my son prescribed when I return home. I took a fall down the stairs once when I was younger and twisted my left knee. It’s never been quite the same.”

  “I’m relieved to know you have a flaw.” Carina gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my. That didn’t come out quite right.”

  Susan’s shoulders jiggled; then she laughed aloud. “I’m far from flawless. Just ask my son.”

  Smiling back, she tried to relax, grateful that Susan was not as quick to take up an offense as her fader was.

  “Would you mind if we walked a bit? I tend to get stiff if I sit too long.”

  “Of course not.” Carina held out her palm. “After you.”

  Susan stopped at the front door and donned her lovely bonnet. Carina had rarely ever seen one quite so fancy with its lace and ribbons. She decided to leave her ragged straw hat hanging.

  Betsey entered the back door and hurried toward them. “You ain’t leavin’ already? I was hopin’ Miz ’Rina might invite you to stay fo’ lunch.”

  If Susan was repulsed by the maid’s impertinence in offering an invitation instead of Carina, she didn’t show it. “Why, thank you so much. I would love to stay sometime, but Reed is expecting me home in time to dine with him. If I don’t return on time, he’s likely to come looking for me.” She laid her fingertip across her lips, eyes gleaming. “Then again, maybe I should stay.”

  Was Reed Bishop’s mother playing matchmaker? Surely Carina had mistaken her meaning. Why would she possibly encourage a union of her highly sought-after son with a woman who had so little to offer?

  Chuckling, Susan laid her hand on Carina’s forearm. “I’m only teasing, dear. Don’t get in a panic.”

  “Miz ’Rina can send you an invitation to come next week, and maybe you can bring Doctah Boss with you.” Betsey lifted her chin slightly, as if not yet ready to concede defeat.

  Widening her eyes, Carina shot her a glance, urging her to hush. It was a good thing she didn’t have company very often, because she’d probably be in a constant state of embarrassment.

  “I’d like that, and I’m sure Reed would, too.”

  Carina couldn’t help wondering if the two women were in cahoots with each other. Maybe she’d just let Susan and Betsey dine with the doctor while she made herself scarce.

  “Oh, before I forget, I need to give you something.” Susan reached for her handbag that lay on the hall-tree bench, opened it, and pulled out a cream-colored paper that had been rolled up like a scroll and tied with a lavender ribbon. “This is for you.”

  Her mouth went dry as she reached for the paper. What could Susan have needed to write her that couldn’t be spoken face-to-face? Her index finger slid over the embossed stationer’s mark that indicated the fine quality of the paper.

  “Go ahead. Open it,” Susan prodded.

  She glanced at Betsey, who nodded her eager encouragement. With dread, Carina untied the ribbon and unrolled the paper to reveal a fancy script:

  To Miss Carina Zimmer,

  Mrs. Frank R. Bishop requests the honour of your presence at a ball to be given in honour of her son’s return home and his achievement as a surgeon.

  Carina couldn’t read any further. A ball. She hadn’t been to a ball since. . .

  “Now don’t start fretting, dear.” Susan offered a heartening smile. “I realize that you haven’t been to many social events of late, but where better to start than my home? You won’t have far to travel, and it will give you the chance to personally thank your neighbors who did such a lovely job on your drive.”

  Carina glanced at Betsey, who lifted her brows, her eyes wide, and eagerly nodded. No help there.

  How could she face all those people? She had nothing to wear. She couldn’t possibly agree, no matter how much it might disappoint Susan. “I—”

  A thump sounded on the porch, then the front door flew open. Sammy burst in, eyes wide and tears streaming down his cheeks. He grasped hold of her skirt and gazed up at her. “Miz ’Rina! Some man done took Lulu!”

  Sixteen

  Reed walked the foundation of his clinic. Would the four-room structure be large enough? He’d have a room where family members could wait, a private examination room that could double as his surgical room, and two separate areas for male and female patients. He stood with his hands on his hips and glanced heavenward. “Well, Lord, what do You think?”

  One of the workers looked up. “Pardon?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Reed waved his hand in the air. They must think him odd, but he was sure they wouldn’t mention it if they did.

  The sound of pounding hoofbeats drew his attention to the road. His mother’s buggy careened toward the side of the road, straightened, then began to slow. Reed ran toward it. Where was his mother? Had something happened to her?

  Charlie jumped from the seat the moment the buggy stopped and met him. “Yo’ mama sent me. There’s been a theft at the Zimmers’. A horse and some food.”

  “Is Mother still there? Was anyone hurt?” Is Carina all right? he wanted to ask.

  “Everyone’s fine. Mrs. Bishop’s the one that sent me. Says for you to get some men and ride the line between here and Tanglewood. It was a skinny white man that done the stealin’.”

  Reed’s jaw clenched. It had to be the same man who had stolen food last week when they worked on the drive. He nodded his thanks. “Go back to the Zimmers’ and stay there with Mother until I get there. I don’t want her on the road if there’s a dangerous man about. Tell Miss Zimmer I said it would be a good idea to arm herself and her workers.”

  Charley nodded. “Chester is stayin’ ’round the house. Them other two men is followin’ the tracks.”

  Reed hurried to Caesar and mounted. He wished now that he’d taken time to search for a better horse, but since the carpenters had been available, he’d been anxious to get back so they could get started. He galloped Caesar to the house, ran inside, and retrieved his Sharps rifle from his gun cabinet in the study.

  Jarrod crept into the room with a fireplace poker in hand. “When I saw the door left open, sir, I thought we had an intruder.”

  “Ironic you should mention that. There’s been another theft at the Zimmers’, and word is he’s headed this way. I’m headed out to search for him. Please alert some of our men to help with the search, and pass the word for the women and children to gather in a safe place.”

  Jarrod nodded. “Right away, sir.”

  Reed rushed outside and mounted. He prayed that the Lord would help him find the thief and that he would not get injured. A doctor needed to be healthy to take care of others.

  Thuds from the horse’s hooves echoed below the new bridge that had recently been built over the creek that paralleled their
drive for a short way. The old gazebo needed replacing soon, too. Maybe that could be next on the carpenter’s list. He rode past the pasture that held several dozen, fine-quality brood mares with newborn foals. How odd it was that the thief chose to steal one of the Zimmers’ few horses when Reed Springs had an abundance of them. Maybe the thief avoided his place because of the numerous workers.

  For close to an hour, he searched the acres of farmland, the groves of trees that hugged the river, and the woodlands that remained unused. He hadn’t yet spotted either of Carina’s men, and he’d almost reached the border between his land and hers. Slowing the horse, he listened for the sound of humans. Nothing but nature’s chorus met his ears. The thrum of insects. A hawk screeching high overhead. Squirrels chattering in a nearby tree. A horse’s whinny off in the distance.

  Caesar lifted his head and pricked his ears forward, looking off to the right. Reed stared in the same direction. Had the animal heard something, or was he just listening for the other horse to whinny again? Could that have been Lulu?

  A loud cry echoed through the trees. His horse pawed the ground and whickered. Something wasn’t quite right, and Caesar sensed it. Reed turned him toward the noise, keeping his rifle ready. The horse plodded forward. Reed kept his ears attuned to the sounds around him, listening hard for anything out of the ordinary.

  A short while later, he rode down a hill, and something white flapping in the trees across the field caught his eye. A woman’s petticoat?

  He reined Caesar around to the right, using the underskirt for cover. About fifty feet away, he slid out of the saddle. A shrill, catlike squeal halted his steps, and he lifted his rifle in case he needed it as his gaze searched the trees. Caesar jerked his head up and shied sideways, then trotted off. Reed lunged at him but missed. He spun back around. The petticoat lay on the ground, and he stood facing the thief he’d chased the week before—a thief who now held a gun on him.