by Janie DeVos
“Well,” she said, with an affected sniff, “at least I can put an announcement in the store’s window letting the good people around here know.” I smiled, told her that would be fine, and thanked her for thinking of it, and then I told her I’d help her with the dishes if she’d like. Kindly, she shooed me off to take my much-desired bath, so I bade her a good night and went upstairs.
I was exhausted, and I had a headache that made me feel as though my skull was about to burst. The shock and horrors of the day had totally blindsided me. Finding out that the Haileys had almost been murdered by my father and that my mother had paid to have Ivy tracked down and killed if need be had left my body and mind reeling. And my heart had been shattered in the process. I needed sleep—wonderful, peaceful, deep sleep that would allow me to float off into oblivion, if for only a short while.
I caught the steamboat, the Tandy Lynn, early the next morning. I was as exhausted as I’d been the night before, but once we were underway down the Ocklawaha, I felt my energy and spirits rising a little. I drank in the sights of the wild and beautiful landscape around me and was glad that there were only a few people on board. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I needed time to think, to process all that had taken place in the last few months. Whatever small part of me had still been a naïve, starry-eyed young girl had been destroyed the night my father’s arm had been ripped away from him.
I turned my attention to the future and my rendezvous with David the next morning. As I’d done a thousand times, I wondered what he would say to me about my abrupt departure to find Ivy. I needed to be ready to field a thousand questions about who Max was, what he’d had at stake to make him want to go with me in search of my sister, and what kind of sleeping arrangements we’d made when we stopped for the night. I was certain that David would be very interested in those details. I wondered how he’d react when I told him we’d spent nights together in a tiny lean-to or hunkered down in an empty cabin to wait out a stormy night. I prayed that he’d be more concerned about the well-being of my sister than the fact that his fiancée had strayed far from society’s guidelines for the proper behavior and decorum expected from any young lady of good standing. And I hoped that he loved me enough to understand what I felt I’d had to do and that we could pick up where we’d left off in planning our future together.
I was happy that David and I weren’t getting together right after I arrived. It would have been very late anyway. I wanted to get another good night’s rest and look as bright and fresh as I could for him. I also wanted to dress especially well. David was always dressed so elegantly; I planned to take extra care in picking out what I would wear for our reunion. I couldn’t help but wonder what he would have thought had he seen me in James’s old pants and shirts that I wore on the trail when I was with Max.
Max.
He kept creeping into my mind at the oddest times. Small things I’d done in just the last couple of days brought him rushing back to me as clearly as if he was standing in the room. When I’d eaten the bass at Mrs. Brody’s, I couldn’t help thinking how much more delicious the fish that Max had netted were. And as the wind rode through my hair as I steamed down the Ocklawaha, the feeling of it reminded me of my hair streaming out behind me as I rode Maggie hard and fast beside Max and Sampson.
My time with Max had offered me the time to be free and wild and uninhibited. He was free and wild and uninhibited whereas David was anchored and refined, and represented security and opportunity for me and my future. I knew David expected me to be there to support his ambitions in all his endeavors, and I just prayed that my heart was as committed to that future as it needed to be. I knew I had to push Max Harjo as far from my mind as I could, so I kept telling myself that I was confusing love for the gratitude that I felt for him for helping me find Ivy. Given a little time, and a little distance from that chapter in my life, I was sure that those confusing feelings would simply fade.
I forced myself to stop thinking about Max, and went back to thinking about the outfit I would wear to see David. I decided on the light yellow suit with the brown trim. It was the most fashionable outfit I owned, and it held sentimental value—at least to me—for it was what I was wearing the day when we’d first met. Besides, it was an appropriate outfit for the meeting I hoped to have afterward at the Florida Times-Union with Mr. Jones about returning to work. I just hoped he would be tolerant enough to excuse my lengthy absence and allow me to resume my duties.
The steamboat’s sharp whistle startled me back to the present, and I looked around at Jacksonville’s large harbor. As I waited in line to debark, I studied the city’s ever-changing skyline. One of the tallest buildings housed David’s office, and another one was the Florida Times-Union. I expected our life together would grow and change just like the skyline. I only prayed that we grew in the same direction.
Chapter 43
The Hawk and the Tiger
“Oh, David, that’s so exciting!” I said, reacting to his news that we would be spending a week in New York City before going on to Philadelphia so that he could show me his family’s home and his old stomping grounds.
“I’m sorry we can’t go to Europe for our honeymoon,” David said with a sad smile, which made him look as though he was pouting. “I was hoping we could sail on the Cunard Line’s newest addition, the RMS Etruria. Unfortunately, my time is going to be limited because I have to be back for some land acquisitions that Henry needs for more tracks, and for a hotel he hopes to build. He has great plans for St. Augustine—amazing ones, really.”
As I sat across from him at a corner table in the upscale Golden Shell restaurant, on the beach in Jacksonville, I watched his eyes light up as he talked about the plans Henry Flagler had for St. Augustine.
It was amazing to think that in just six weeks I would become his wife, while just six weeks before I had been traversing the Florida wilderness looking for my sister. How quickly things changed and how quickly people could move on.
Fortunately, David had been more than understanding when we met in St. James Park, the morning after I returned from Silver Springs. Before I could say anything other than hello, he gathered me into his arms and rested his chin atop my head; then he softly whispered how glad he was that I was home unharmed. I held onto him tightly for a moment, which allowed my quickly beating heart to slow down and for me to breathe normally again as I realized that all was well with David.
Hand in hand, we’d walked over to one of the benches and sat there for a couple of hours while I told him about my hunt for Ivy and what the outcome had been. He had listened patiently and had only interrupted me every now and then to ask a question or two. But he didn’t ask for a lot of details or question me about things that I only lightly covered or chose to entirely omit. Most important, he made me feel as though I hadn’t compromised my relationship with him or done anything too terribly inappropriate.
Of course, we didn’t plan on sharing the details of my trip with friends and acquaintances while sipping sherry in the salon of some elegant home or lavishly appointed hotel. Those times were for telling stories about visiting Europe, or building new cities. Hunting for my sister as she fled a murderous father while carrying an illegitimate Negro baby was not conversation for the upper crust, but I was terribly grateful that David was so understanding about the position I’d been put in and didn’t judge me unfairly because of it.
The one thing that David asked of me was that I never speak of that time again. He wanted me to file it away as just another part of the past. I didn’t ask him why. Maybe because I was so relieved that he’d accepted my actions, or perhaps, I was afraid of his answer. So I agreed to leave it behind me and to never revisit it aloud again.
However, that did not mean those memories didn’t work their way into my thoughts. I figured that over time, I would begin to forget the small details of that journey; given more time, I would forget some of the larger ones, as well. But th
ere was one thing that remained crystal clear: Max telling me that he had started to fall in love with me. I prayed that memory would fade faster than all the others, because I thought of it constantly.
“Do you want Baked Alaska, Eve, darling? Hello, Eve?” David laughed as he waved his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. “Where were you? You were staring off into space like you’re a million miles away.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I blinked my eyes several times to refocus. David was right; I’d been a million miles away, or at least a hundred or so. “I’m sorry. What were you asking me?”
David looked a little concerned. “I wanted to know if you want Baked Alaska for dessert or something else. Are you feeling all right? Maybe you’d just rather go on home.”
“I’m sorry, David, but would you mind terribly? I slept so badly last night, and between that and trying to make up some lost time with the newspaper by having three articles ready for Mr. Jones by the middle of next week, I’m feeling pretty worn out.”
Just at that moment, the waiter arrived to take our dessert order. “No dessert tonight, Arthur. Just the check, please.” David reached inside his jacket for his billfold as the waiter bowed slightly and moved away to tally the bill.
“What is it you’re writing about now, Eve?”
“Well, the latest piece I’m working on is about some of the folks who came here to homestead and what they’ve done to eke out a living in the wilds of Florida.” I smiled, then felt a yawn coming on, and tried to stifle it, but the yawn won. “I’m sorry I have to end the evening so early.”
“Don’t be silly,” he said as the waiter put the bill down in front of him, and David laid fifty dollars on top of it. “But I expect you to be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow afternoon when we go pick out our wedding bands. I have one in mind for you, but I didn’t dare buy it without your seeing it. It’s something special, though. I will say that.”
He was obviously anxious for me to see it, and I knew that I’d feel more excited about it after I got some much-needed sleep. “I can’t wait to see it,” I said as I worked at securing my dark green velvet hat in place, just in front of my bun. I still couldn’t get used to hat pins and tiny, useless hats, but I’d been determined to wear it. I’d fallen in love with the hat as soon as I saw it in the millinery shop’s window. The green color looked good on me, but what really drew me to it was the beautiful feather that was set at a jaunty angle on the left side, just above the rolled-up brim. I’d gone into the store to inquire about the price and asked the shopkeeper what kind of feather was on the hat. When she told me it was a hawk’s feather, I pulled out the cash for it immediately. Even though it cost me a small fortune, I just had to have it.
After David dropped me back at the boardinghouse, I entered the hall as quietly as I could. There was no sound coming from any of the rooms, so I figured everyone was either asleep or out. In the foyer there was a narrow table that stood against the right wall where Mrs. Sikes would put each day’s mail to be sorted through by the residents. I saw that there were two small packages, and both were addressed to me. If they were wedding gifts, which I assumed they must be, they were the first ones I’d received at the boarding house. All the gifts coming from David’s family and friends were being sent to the apartment he was renting near his office downtown. Though David’s place was lovely, it was small, and we’d talked about getting a home immediately. As I gathered up my packages, I decided I’d ask him if he could take some time away from work one afternoon so that we could go looking. He’d been so busy acquiring properties for Flagler that he had neglected to acquire one for us. I smiled and shook my head, thinking about my very ambitious fiancé.
I tiptoed up the stairs and quietly entered my room. It was empty, so I figured that the nurses I still shared it with must have night duty again. Before getting involved with anything else, I got ready for bed and then sat with my two packages. The first one was from Mama’s sister, my aunt Emma Jean, in Lexington. Mama must have written her about my marriage. Thinking about Mama was crushingly painful. I kept telling myself that the feelings would fade with time, but what she had done had cut me so deeply that it was unlikely I would ever completely heal.
Pushing aside that fact, as well as the package’s brown wrapping paper, I opened a small box to find a set of six very old silver baby spoons. Included was a note that said the spoons had been in the family for longer than my aunt could remember, and she thought this was the perfect time to pass them on to the next generation. She said that she could vaguely remember using them as a child, which meant that Mama had used them, too.
Sighing, I set aside the spoons and picked up the other box, which was even smaller. There was no return address, so I didn’t have any idea who had sent it. I quickly removed the thick brown paper and a lovely handmade oak box was revealed. It was well-crafted and beautifully simple, and the wood glowed a deep gold from the lacquer that had been carefully applied to it. Lifting the lid, I found a pendant nestled inside. Carefully pulling it out, I examined it under the lamplight. It was made from mother of pearl, and the face of a tiger had been perfectly and exquisitely carved into it.
As I moved it this way and that in the light, the iridescence of the shell shifted in color from purplish-grey to pink and even to soft green. At the top of the piece, a perfect little hole had been made, which allowed a leather cord to be threaded through it. When I slipped the pendant over my head, it came to rest right at the top of my breasts. I gingerly rubbed it as I looked back in the box, and found a small note in the bottom. I unfolded it and began to read the unfamiliar handwriting:
Eve, there is an old Indian saying that even though marriage makes two into one, the happiest unions are those where each person respects the other as a unique and strong individual. Never let your own spirit wither away, kaccv hokte. May you live with much abundance and joy.
Max
“Max. I miss you, Max,” I whispered. “I miss you.”
I wondered how he’d known where to send the gift, and then I remembered Mrs. Brody: She said she was going to post my wedding banns in the window at the store, and she’d asked me for my Jacksonville address right before I’d left.
Holding both the pendant and note firmly against my chest, I got into bed and stared at the ceiling. Finally, I fell into a restless sleep, and I dreamed about a hawk flying above a tiger as it ran along the banks of a dark and winding river.
Chapter 44
Wither Not, My Soul
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I said as I entered David’s office. It was fifteen minutes before five, and I had told him I’d be there by four thirty.
“It’s all right.” He laughed as he stood up from his desk and then came around to kiss me. “I had to finish up some paperwork, so your timing is actually good.”
“Perfect! What time did you say the jeweler closes?”
“Five thirty. But he’s just up the street, so we should be fine. Besides, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind staying open a little longer, if necessary, considering the occasion.”
“And considering the customer,” I teased him. I was beginning to believe that there wasn’t a soul in Jacksonville who hadn’t met David Perlow yet. He was a good business man, as well as outgoing, and I was sure he’d never met a stranger.
“Just give me a minute to go to the washroom,” he said as he started for the door, “and then we’ll go.”
I sat down in one of two leather wing-back chairs in front of his desk. “Oh, I need a—” I was going to say stamp, but he’d already stepped out of the room. Moving around his desk, I pulled open his top left drawer, where I knew he kept them. I’d written a thank-you note to Aunt Emma Jean, though I’d held off writing one to Max. I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to say yet, other than thanking him for his beautiful gift. I was afraid I’d say too much and just as afraid that I’d say too little.
I found the stamps and set the note down so that I could stick one on it. When I did, I saw several tax lien certificates spread out across the desk. Quickly looking them over, I saw that two were for properties around the St. Augustine area, and the others were for properties in the north-central part of the state. Just then, David opened the door and walked in.
“What are you searching for, Eve?” He looked a bit taken aback to find me in such an awkward situation. And I was quite sure I looked just as surprised to be caught in one.
“I-I needed a stamp,” I stammered. “So I took one from your drawer. What are these, David?” I held one of the certificates out to him.
David quickly walked over to me and took it. “It’s just business, Eve. Nothing you’d be interested in, I’m sure.” He moved around the desk, and I moved away from it.
“Actually, I am. I’m interested in what you do. Tell me how these work, David.”
He quickly gathered the certificates up and stuck them in a desk drawer. “Eve, the jeweler closes in less than an hour. Let’s go and I’ll tell you as we’re walking.”
“No. The jeweler will still be there tomorrow. I’m real curious why you’d have those. How do they fit in with what you’re workin’ on?”
“Good God, Eve! Must we really discuss this now? I told Byron Hoffman we’d be there, and I don’t like standing someone up.”