Which frightened her all the more. He was leaving her. Magnolia’s mother had heard from Mrs. Matthews who had heard from Sarah that Hayden was going on an excursion to seek this Mr. Godard, and he didn’t know when he’d return. Or if.
“It’s for the best,” her mother had said, patting Magnolia’s hand. “You know how your father detests him.”
Perhaps he wouldn’t if he knew that Hayden had saved her life more than once, cared for her and protected her. But that probably wouldn’t make a difference. Hayden lacked the two things her father sought the most—wealth and rank.
Blake swung Eliza past in a polka, and she smiled at Magnolia from her husband’s arms. The colonel’s hobbled gait was barely noticeable when he danced with his wife. The sight warmed Magnolia. As did the sight of Thiago, one hand on a tree trunk, leaning over to smile at baby Lydia in Sarah’s arms. Across the way, James extended his elbow for Angeline and led her onto the makeshift dance floor. Mr. Dodd leaned over a table beneath the meeting shelter staring at a map in confusion. Perhaps he hadn’t found his gold, after all. Lewis, ever the cheerful besotted soul, sat on a wobbly chair drinking from his flask and bobbing his head to the tune. Of course he was happy, he had spirits to numb his soul.
She raised her hand and noticed the slight tremble. Another thing she’d been denied these past days. Finally Mable returned with a tray of drinks. Not the kind Magnolia needed, but warm lemonade would have to do. She took a sip, her lips puckering. They were running short on sugar.
Moses headed toward them, across the clearing, hat in hand. Magnolia’s attempt to warn him with her eyes failed as his were locked on Mable. He stopped before them. “Missah Scott, would it be all right if I ask Mable to dance? If she wants to, dat is.”
Mable’s eyes lit up as she gazed up at the tall black man.
But Magnolia’s father had a way of crushing any happiness that crossed his path.
He waved him away. “Slaves don’t dance.”
“Oh, let her dance with him, Papa,” Magnolia said, resisting the urge to pour her lemonade on his head.
“I said no! Why the colonel allows these freed Negroes to attend our party is beyond me. Now, go fetch the frond fan, Mable. I’m getting hot. And you”—he flicked his fingers at Moses—“run along.”
Dejected, Moses trudged away. Magnolia opened her mouth to say something she’d probably regret when the sight of Hayden stopped her.
He strode into the clearing as if he owned the place. No longer looking like a pirate, he wore gray trousers tucked into high boots, a white shirt, a black waistcoat, and a string tie. Unlike in the jungle when he wore his hair loose and wild, he had combed it and tied it behind him, so unconventional for the fashion of the age, but one of the things she adored about him.
Their eyes locked and he winked at her as if he knew a grand secret. And her heart nearly beat through her chest.
Still he made no move toward her. No doubt he knew the effort would be fruitless.
The dance ended and people scattered for refreshments. Blake approached. “Mr. Scott, if I may intrude on your time, something has come to my attention regarding your home. A few of the farmers passed by the other day and told me there may be a flaw in the frame that will compromise the integrity of the entire structure.”
Her father jumped to his feet. “Absurd! I know what I’m doing and have inspected every inch.’ ”
“Would you like me to show you, sir?”
“In the dark?”
“We have torches,” Blake said, his expression grave. “I fear we should not wait.”
Her father tugged on his waistcoat. “Very well.” He turned toward his wife. “Look out after her.” He nodded at Magnolia. “She is not to dance.”
Mrs. Scott agreed, her shoulders slumping. Yet as Blake led the man away, Magnolia saw a slight grin lift the colonel’s lips.
Moments later, Eliza asked Magnolia’s mother to taste an orange pie she’d made with mandioca root, begging the accomplished woman’s advice on the taste of the flour substitute. After Magnolia insisted she’d behave, her mother left, seemingly oblivious to the sparkle of mischief in Eliza’s eyes.
For the first time in three days, Magnolia was alone.
No, not alone. Hayden appeared before her and offered his hand. “Would you care for a stroll?”
CHAPTER 28
Hayden led Magnolia away from the party, relishing the feel of her delicate hand in his once again. It had been pure torture not being able to speak to her the past three days. Especially after he’d made up his mind. But she was with him now. His plan had worked, thanks to his friends. Unusual nervousness buzzed through him as he shoved through a fence of leaves and led her into a small, private clearing. Two torches, planted in the soft bank of a bubbling creek, cast flickering light over the water.
Magnolia smiled. “Did you prepare this for me?”
“Of course.”
She stared almost shyly at the reflection of golden flames bouncing across the dark water as if she were afraid to face him.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, caressing her fingers.
She swung her blue eyes to his, the shield over them dissolving. “I have missed you too.” Her voice was filled with longing. “Thank you for getting rid of my parents. Very clever.” She grinned.
He shrugged. “How else was I to speak to you?”
She lowered her gaze. “Papa has been horrible.”
Hayden squeezed her hand, tugging her closer. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.”
“Maybe I do.” Rare contrition shrouded her features.
“None of us are perfect,” Hayden said. “But no one deserves to be treated like a commodity. Especially not from a father.” It would almost be better to grow up without a father like Hayden had than to be reprimanded daily by an unloving one. His heart strung tight.
A breeze whistled through the canopy, joining the gurgle and splash of the brook and the buzz of katydids. She gazed into the jungle, sorrow shadowing her face, and he longed to bring the life back into her eyes that he’d witnessed on their journey. But it seemed every drop of hope had been squeezed from her these past three days. Magnolia attempted a smile. “Regardless, you have stolen me away from him for a brief time, and I thank you for that.”
“I hope to steal you away for much longer,” he said. Flames glinted in her eyes. He searched their depths for her response. Desperate to know. Feeling as if he teetered in the balance between life and death.
Then delight sped through him at what he saw in those sapphire pools.
“Whatever are you implying, Hayden Gale?” She thickened her Southern drawl.
He raised her hand to his lips. “I would like to court you properly, Magnolia, if you’ll accept my suit.”
The lace at her neckline rose and fell like the beat of angel wings, breathless, eternal, full of promise. Finally, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. A passionate, hungry kiss that revived his heart and sent flames down to his toes. Enveloping her in his arms, he drank in her sweet savor, never wanting the moment to end. When they parted, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I have something for you.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the carving he’d just finished that morning.
Magnolia held it to the light. “It’s a toad.” Surprise heightened her voice. She looked at him. “This is what you were carving on our way back to New Hope?”
“Your nickname for me.”
“I never meant it.”
He tapped her chin with his finger. “Come now. You meant every word of it.”
“Well, perhaps.” She smiled and fingered the carving as if it were made of gold. Then lifting it to her lips, she kissed it. “We shall be good friends, shan’t we, little one?”
“Now you’re making me jealous. It wasn’t meant as a substitute for me. Just a reminder.”
“I need no reminders. Ever.” Lifting her hand, she traced his jaw, her touch so gentle, so full of affection, his head grew li
ght. But then the sparkle in her eyes dulled, and she glanced down. “My father will never permit a courtship between us. He has other plans for me.”
The night song of a whippoorwill trilled its agreement. Hayden hefted a sigh. “Plans that don’t include an impoverished con—broker, I’m thinking.”
“He’s forbidden me to ever speak to you again.” Thankfully, she missed his near blunder, which reminded him that he should disclose his true profession—or his former profession—to her if they were to be courting. But later. Not now. The sound of music and laughter drew her gaze back to town. “Father will be returning soon. I shouldn’t stay.” She kicked the leaves by her feet. “It’s hopeless Hayden, don’t you see? I have nowhere else to go.” Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes.
Placing a finger beneath her chin, he raised her gaze to his. “Ah, but you do. I have already spoken to Sarah. She would be happy for you to move in with her in exchange for help with baby Lydia. And Eliza is offering you a position at the clinic. Your work there will more than pay for any food and other necessities you need.”
She stared at him as if he’d asked her to swim back to Georgia. “Work for a living?”
Hayden clenched his jaw. How could he want to kiss her one moment and strangle her the next? “Yes, work. Like most people must do to survive. Do you want to be free, Princess?”
“Of course.” A tear slipped from her eye. “Yes, of course. But you don’t understand—I owe my family.”
“Whatever it is, we will pay them back. Together.”
Another tear joined the first. “You would do that for me?”
He cupped her face in both hands. “I would do anything for you.”
“Magnolia!” Her father’s voice echoed off branches and leaves, clamoring like a gothic gong and drowning out the pleasant music.
Hayden took her hand in his. “Shall we go announce our good news?”
Magnolia’s joy was soon swallowed up by apprehension as they made their way back to town. She feared not only what her father would say but what he would do. If her courtship with Hayden ended in marriage—ah, dare she hope?—she might never be able to pay back the money she owed her parents, and she’d certainly never gain them the prestige of title or position.
She fingered the toad carving in her pocket. But to become the wife of such a man! Was it possible? When she was with Hayden, everything seemed possible.
Breaking free from her father and living independently as a single woman, for one. It simply wasn’t done. At least not for a genteel lady. But could she do it? Could she rise from her bed every morning and spend her days working like an impoverished washerwoman? She had enjoyed helping Eliza in the clinic, but it had been her choice to be there and her choice when she would leave. Yet…she had felt useful for the first time in her life. And Eliza said she had a gift for nursing. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have value beyond her appearance? Perhaps that would cause her reflection to transform back into one of beauty.
The thought elated her. Along with being loved by such a strong, courageous, kind man. And of having a lifetime to love him in return. It was too good to be true. Too much to hope for! Yet there he was, walking beside her, his warm, rough hand enveloping hers, the taste of his kiss lingering on her lips, his manly smell wafting in the air between them. And she knew she could face anything, even her father’s wrath, with Hayden by her side.
He squeezed her hand and gave her that wink that melted her heart before they burst into the center of the square.
Her father, his face bloated like a jellyfish—with a sting just as potent—charged toward her. Her mother followed, ringing her hands. “Where have you been? I told you to stay away from that man!”
Before her father could yank her away, Hayden released her hand and stepped in front of her. Equal in height, the men stared each other down, one snorting like a bull, the other calm and determined.
The music faded into contrary chords before ceasing altogether, giving way to protests and grunts as all eyes swerved to the brewing altercation. Still, Magnolia’s father kept his eyes locked on Hayden’s, like cannons about to fire. Magnolia knew that look. It was a look that had caused strong men to wither and staunch women to cry. But Hayden did not falter.
“You will step aside at once, sir, and hand me my daughter.”
“Only if she wishes to come to you.” Hayden’s voice bore neither rancor nor intimidation.
“Of course she wishes to come to me, you hawkish popinjay!” With narrow, seething eyes, her father peered at her around Hayden. “Magnolia, come here this instant!” Her mother stepped beside her husband, a strength in her expression Magnolia had never seen before.
Gathering her own strength, Magnolia stepped forward, slipped her hand once again into Hayden’s, and lifted her chin. “I cannot, Papa. Hayden and I are officially courting.”
He let out a guttural laugh and glanced at the gathering townspeople. “Rubbish! There’s nothing official about such nonsense.”
“And I am moving to town,” Magnolia continued. “Taking a position at the clinic.” She feared he would read the tremble in her voice as doubt.
But he seemed not to notice as maroon exploded on his face. “A position? Moving!” He loosened his necktie, his chest pitching like a ship on high waves.
A gust swirled through the square, sending the lanterns sputtering and casting patches of light over the crowd. Magnolia thought she saw her mother smile.
Colonel Blake and James pushed through the mob to stand beside them.
Magnolia’s father gave a bitter chuckle, casting another incredulous glance over the bystanders. Then leaning close to her—so close she felt his spittle on her neck—he said, “You will stop this foolishness at once! You are embarrassing your mother and me. We will discuss this at home.” He clutched her arm.
Magnolia winced, and Hayden grabbed her father’s wrist. So tightly, her father’s jaw twitched with the silent struggle until finally he released Magnolia. Rubbing his hand, he gave Hayden a look that would have killed him if he had been armed.
Magnolia drew a shaky breath. “I have made up my mind, Father.”
For once, her mother wasn’t sobbing. Instead, she stared at Magnolia with pride.
“You ungrateful girl,” he hissed. “This is the second time you have walked out on your bargain, and it will be the last.”
Hayden took a step forward. “We will pay you what she owes.”
Her father measured him with a scornful gaze then glared at his daughter. “You are a bigger fool than I thought, Magnolia, but do not take me for one.” He tugged on his waistcoat, stepped back, and waved them away. “You are no longer my daughter.”
Gasps sped through the crowd.
Eliza eased toward them. “You can’t mean that, Mr. Scott.”
A tangible pain speared Magnolia’s heart. Her mother began to sob. Hayden squeezed her hand and drew her close as her father strode away, head held high, ordering her mother to come along. But Magnolia didn’t have time to consider the implications of his words before the sound of crunching leaves—a multitude of crunching leaves—rose from the jungle. Blake, James, and most of the men, including Hayden, headed for their rifles and pistols, leveling them toward the noise while ushering the women behind them. Magnolia joined Eliza and Angeline as everyone watched to see what new dangers emerged from the trees.
Seconds passed like minutes. The leaves parted and a group of men marched into town. No, not just men, women and children too, their clothes torn and stained, their faces weary and frightened. Eyes widening, they froze at the sight of the guns pointed their way. Some of the men in the group plucked out pistols and returned the favor.
But Magnolia’s gaze fastened upon a single man leading the pack, his arms raised and an impudent grin on his lips. Her heart seized. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be. Surely, it was just another vision.
“Hold up there, gentlemen,” the vision spoke, his slick voice confirming her fears. “We
come in peace. We are settlers from the Confederate States, just like you.”
“Martin!”Magnolia managed to growl the name. She started toward him, but her father stormed past her. “Mr. Haley? Mr. Martin Haley!”
The man lowered his arms. His eyebrows shot up over eyes filled with shock. Magnolia’s mother shrieked.
“No, sir. You are mistaken. That is not my name.” He spoke with his usual aplomb.
But the closer Magnolia got to him, the more she recognized the cultured goatee and thin mustache, the gray streaking the temples of his black hair. Those firm cheek bones and stark green eyes. Handsome, charming Martin.
Her father stopped before him. “I don’t care what you call yourself. You stole all my money, sir! And I demand it back.”
Wondering where Hayden was, Magnolia glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at Martin as if he were a ghost. No, worse. A monster, from the look of fury blazing in his eyes.
Blake approached the group. “What is the meaning of this? Who are you and who are these people?”
“Ah, you must be the man in charge.” Martin faced the colonel with the same smile he used on everyone he wished to deceive. “As I said, we are but settlers like yourself. In fact”—he waved an arm over the town—“we are the ones who inhabited these huts before you.”
“This man stole from me and I demand reparation!” Magnolia’s father bellowed.
But Magnolia was tired of talking. Barreling forward, she planted her hands on Martin’s chest and shoved him backward. He stumbled but quickly righted himself. Brushing off his coat, he smiled—a sweet, sickly smile that made her stomach turn. “Ah, dear Magnolia, how good to see you. Of all the places to find each other…Brazil.” He chuckled.
A few of the newcomers took up positions at their leader’s side, weapons raised, and defiance written on their faces.
“I am not your dear,” Magnolia spat. “You are a liar, a cheat, and a thief!”
Seeming to forget he had an audience, her father shoved a finger in Martin’s face. “You charmed my daughter into an engagement, wormed your way into our family’s graces, and took me for everything I had with some spurious investment! You owe me, sir! You owe me, and you will pay. By God, you will pay!” Lunging for Martin, he locked fingers around the man’s neck and squeezed.
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