The wind burned his face, but he hardly noticed. All he could think about was that he was going to be a father, but that wasn’t the best part. He and Savannah would have something that would bind them together for the rest of their lives.
Seventeen
Savannah ate the last bite of biscuit and took a sip from her cup. The molasses she’d stirred into the coffee gave it a sweet taste and eased the queasiness in her stomach. She placed her dishes in the dry sink and glanced around the small room.
For the first time, she wondered what it had been like for the slaves who’d lived in this cabin. When she was growing up, she’d hardly given thought to the plight of the people who labored for her family. Now she called this dilapidated house her home, and she understood how bad it must have been for the families who lived in the shadow of the big house.
The small cabin provided just enough space for two people. With the baby, they would be crowded, but they could do it. After all, Mamie and Saul and their two sons shared a cabin just a bit larger than theirs, but their home probably seemed very empty now with Abraham gone.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she hurried to open it. Mamie stood on the porch. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but she smiled at Savannah. “How you doin’, Miss ’Vanna?”
Savannah reached out and drew the woman inside. She put her arms around Mamie and hugged her. “I’m feeling better. How are you today?”
Mamie sighed. “I ’spects I’ve been better. I just gotta put this in the Lord’s hands and try to get on with my life. I still got Saul and Joshua, and I be thankful for that.”
Savannah blinked back tears. “You’re a strong woman, Mamie. You’ll never get over missing Abraham, but you’ll come to a point where you can remember the good times you had with him and be thankful for that.”
“Yas’m. I knows that. But I come over to see how you feelin’. Mistuh Dante asked me to check on you, and that’s what I’m doin’.”
Savannah smiled. “I just ate something, and I’m feeling much better.”
Mamie arched one eyebrow. “You ain’t tole Mistuh Dante yet, have you?”
Savannah shook her head. “I’ve tried to, but he’s had so much on his mind with all that’s happened I didn’t want to add to it.”
“You have to tell him soon. Cain’t keep a secret like this long.”
Savannah drew the woman toward the stove and pulled out a chair for her. They sat down, and Savannah basked in the warmth before she turned to Mamie. “I’m afraid, Mamie.”
A look of surprise flashed on Mamie’s face. “Why you ’fraid?”
Savannah sat up straight. “What if I’m not a good mother?”
Mamie chuckled. “Oh Miss ’Vanna, you be fine. Lots of women feel that way ’fore their first baby born, but don’t you worry none. I been knowin’ you since you was born, and you gwine make a good mamma.”
“What makes you so sure? I’ve never taken care of a baby before.”
“You can do anything you set your mind to. Just look what you and Mistuh Dante already done. You come back to Cottonwood all ready to make it a grand plantation again, but you not like the girl who left it when the big house burn. You come back with a good man who loves you a lot. I’d shore like to see his face when you tell him about the baby.”
Savannah smiled. “You really think he’ll be happy?”
“I don’t think. I knows it. I thought that poor man gwine go crazy when he heard you want to go on that boat down to Mobile. He couldn’t eat or sleep. I knowed all along what he needed to do, so I tole him there was a way to keep you here. And he did it. He got up his nerve and asked you to marry him. When he tole me you done accepted him, he was the happiest man I ever seen.” Mamie rose from her chair. “Now you gwine make him so happy he shout.”
Savannah laughed and followed Mamie to the door. “Thank you, Mamie. You’ve always been the one to help me when I needed it. Now I have to decide how I’m going to tell Dante.” She stepped onto the front porch and inhaled. “It may be chilly, but it’s a beautiful day. I do my best thinking at my parents’ graves. I’m going to put my coat on and walk down there.”
Mamie smiled and walked down the steps. Savannah stared after her until she had disappeared into her home. Then she reentered the cabin and pulled her coat from the peg by the door. A visit to the cemetery often provided her peace and guidance. She hoped today would be no exception.
She picked up her Bible and started to leave. A warning niggled in the back of her mind. With all the turmoil in the countryside, she probably shouldn’t venture so far without protection. She walked to the sideboard, pulled the pistol from the drawer, and stuck it in her pocket.
❧
Dante reined the horse to a stop at Cottonwood’s barn and dismounted. He’d ridden harder than he should to get home, but he couldn’t wait to see Savannah. One glance at the lather on the mare, though, told him the horse had to be taken care of first.
He led the horse into the alleyway of the barn and pulled the saddle and blanket from its back. A voice from behind startled him.
“Mistuh Dante, I didn’t know you got back.”
Dante turned to see Saul walking out of one of the stalls at the far end of the barn. “I finished my business and hurried home. I didn’t want to leave Savannah alone too long.”
Saul stopped beside him and pulled the tattered hat from his head. “She ain’t home right now. Mamie went over to check on her awhile ago, and she said she gwine go visit her folks at the cemetery.”
Dante frowned. “Did she walk?”
“Yas suh, I thinks so.”
The flicker of anger he’d held back on the ride home ignited. She’d kept the news of his child from him, and now she was out walking by herself. After last night’s scare, she should have stayed inside like he told her.
Saul coughed, and Dante jerked his attention back to the man beside him. “I’m sorry, Saul. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Yas suh.”
He handed the reins of the horse to Saul. “Would you mind taking care of my horse? I need to go see my wife.”
Saul took the reins and smiled. “I ’spects it ’bout time you got things straightened out in your house, Mistuh Dante.”
Dante’s eyes grew wide. “Do you know something that I don’t? Like the fact that I’m about to become a father, and my wife hasn’t told me?”
A sad smile curled Saul’s lips. “Yas suh. Miss ’Vanna done tole Mamie, and Mamie tole me. I ’spect it be a happy time here at Cottonwood. The good Lord took away Abraham, but He done give us a new life to bless us. He has a way of makin’ things right even when bad things happen.”
Dante stared at him. “You can say that with faith after the horrible death of your son?”
Tears filled Saul’s eyes. “I thought losing my mamma when I was little was the worstest that could ever happen, but I was wrong. I ain’t never gwine git over Abraham, but the Lord done tole me He be right there a-helpin’ me each day.”
“I know that Saul, but thank you for reminding me.”
Dante squared his shoulders and strode toward the river. When he reached the bluff, he stared down into the rolling water and remembered the first night he’d come to Cottonwood and how he’d lain under the stars and listened to its lull. In the time since then, he’d come to love every inch of soil on his land.
Savannah had told him she wanted her child to inherit Cottonwood. Now she said she loved him, but he wondered how she would feel after the baby was born. It scared him to think now that she had what she’d wanted, she would no longer need him.
❧
Savannah could tell from the sun’s position she’d been in the cemetery for several hours. She rose to her feet and closed her Bible. Glancing down at the graves once more, she put her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to the parents she loved.
She left the small burial ground and walked along the path in deep thought until she approached the bend that brought her to the riv
er’s edge. She stopped on the tall bluff and stared at the water far below.
Once she had wanted to travel the steamboats that plowed this river, but no more. She had found contentment at Cottonwood with Dante. Guilt over her silence about the baby filled her. Even if Dante was worried about the protection of everyone living on the plantation, she had to tell him. It wasn’t fair to keep it from him anymore.
The sound of a snapping twig caught her attention. She turned to look behind her. Maybe one of the men had been to the canebrake they’d cleared and was coming back, but she saw no one. Turning to continue home, she jerked to a halt and swallowed the fear rising in her throat. Jonathan Boyer blocked her path.
“Jonathan, what are you doing here?”
His lips curled into a snarl, and he glared at her with hatred. He limped forward. “I came to see you, Savannah.” He stopped and grimaced in pain.
She glanced down at his leg. “Are you hurt?”
“Hurt? Don’t you remember shooting me last night? You didn’t think I’d recovered already, did you?”
She walked closer. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I didn’t want to hurt you. Let me get you back to my house, and I’ll send for Dr. Spencer.”
He held out his hand to stop her. “Don’t you come near me. Because of you and your husband, I’ve lost everything I ever wanted. Cottonwood, you, and now Oak Hill.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand. How have you lost Oak Hill?”
He flinched and shifted his weight to the other leg. “Your dear husband made a visit to the sheriff this morning and threatened to go to the federal authorities if he didn’t do something. So our good law officer decided he’d better get busy before that happened.”
Savannah backed up a step. “What did Sheriff Newton do?”
“He went over to Sam Baker’s place and told him he knew Sam was one of the people who attacked the Crossroads. He promised Sam he’d overlook his bad judgment in joining the raiders if he’d disclose the names of everybody in the group. So Sam talked. He told the sheriff how we raided the countryside and how we hung that slave Abraham. Now the sheriff’s after me for murder. I expect he wants to hang me so it’ll look good for him.”
“Then you need to give yourself up. It may go better with you if you go in voluntarily.”
He glanced up at the sky and laughed. “You must think I’m crazy. I’m going to finish what I started last night. Then I’m leaving Alabama and everything in it far behind.”
Jonathan’s laugh sent chills up Savannah’s spine. It had the tone of a deranged man. “Please, Jonathan, let me help you.”
“Yes, my dear. You’re going to help me a lot. I’m going to make your husband wish he’d never come to Alabama.”
He stuck his hand into his pocket and whipped out a knife as he advanced on her. Savannah stared in horror at the long blade flashing in the sun. She backed up a step. “Jonathan, what are you doing?”
“You should never have turned against me, Savannah. Now I’m going to kill you.”
She wanted to run, but her body seemed frozen in place. The hatred burning in his eyes told her this wasn’t the friend she’d always known. She screamed as he advanced, then she pulled the gun from her pocket and fired.
Eighteen
A woman’s scream followed by a gunshot sent an icy chill down Dante’s back. It had to be Savannah’s voice he heard. He hesitated for only a moment before he bolted in the direction of the sounds.
Near the bend in the road ahead, he saw a man with a knife raised above his head. The man staggered forward, his attention directed to someone in front of him.
“Stay back, Jonathan!” Dante heard Savannah yell. “I’ll aim lower next time!”
Dante sprinted forward and grabbed Jonathan’s upraised arm. A few feet away, he could see Savannah with a pistol in her hand.
Jonathan whirled in Dante’s grip and stared at him. Dante almost felt the heat from the hatred that burned in Jonathan’s eyes. Grimacing, Jonathan struggled to free himself from Dante’s grip.
“Let me go. I’ll kill you both.”
Dante could feel Jonathan weakening, and he remembered Savannah had said she shot him the night before. With a new burst of strength, Dante gripped Jonathan’s wrist tighter and twisted it away from his body. The knife dropped to the ground.
Letting go of Jonathan’s arm, Dante drew back his fist and connected with his assailant’s jaw. Jonathan lurched back and fell to the ground. Dante stood over him, but Jonathan didn’t move.
Dante turned to Savannah. “Are you all right?”
She bit her lower lip and nodded. “I’m fine. I’m so glad you got here when you did. I don’t know what—” Her eyes widened in fear. “Dante,” she screamed, “look out!”
Dante whirled to see Jonathan approaching with a large rock held above his head. “I’m not through yet.”
Dante ducked, grabbed Jonathan around the waist, and propelled him backward to the edge of the bluff. The ground crumbled underneath their feet, and dirt and rocks rolled down the steep bank toward the river. Dante tried to pull back, but Jonathan gripped him tighter.
A large crack appeared in the earth between Dante’s and Jonathan’s feet. Dante released his hold, swung his fists up, and hit Jonathan’s arms. The force knocked Jonathan loose, and he shifted his weight to swing again. Dante stepped back to avoid the blow he knew was coming.
Before Jonathan could deliver the punch, the edge of the bluff collapsed beneath him. His arms flailed as he struggled to regain his balance, but his footing had disappeared in the earth that slid down the bluff toward the river.
Dante reached for Jonathan, but it was too late. He fell back, tumbling downward amid the rocks and dirt. Dante watched the man’s body twist and turn until it came to rest at the edge of the river, far below.
A sob next to him alerted Dante that Savannah stood there.
“Oh Jonathan, what happened to the boy I knew?”
Dante turned to her. “It was the war, Savannah. Maybe those who died were luckier than the ones who survived.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Men like Jonathan couldn’t accept the changes in the South and in their lives. It must have eaten away at him until it destroyed the boy you knew.” His shoulders drooped. “I never meant to kill him, though. I hope you believe that.”
Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I do.”
“Mistuh Dante, Mistuh Dante, what going on here?”
They turned at the sound of Saul’s voice. He ran toward them with Big Mike and Henry Walton right behind. When they reached the edge of the bluff, Dante pointed downward. “Jonathan Boyer came back. He’s down there.”
Saul stared at the body below. “That the man who killed Abraham?”
Savannah nodded. “Yes. He confessed to me.”
Saul took a deep breath. “Then let’s bring him up.”
Dante clamped his hand on Saul’s shoulder. “We will. Then I’ll take the body into town to the sheriff and tell him what happened.”
Savannah reached out and touched Dante’s arm. “Do you want me to go with you?”
He shook his head. “No. You go on home. I’ll see you there when I get back. We have some things to settle between us.”
She wiped at a tear that escaped her eye. “I suppose we do.”
She straightened her shoulders and walked down the path toward home. He watched her for a few moments before he remembered the men who were already climbing down the bluff to recover Jonathan’s body.
When he bought Cottonwood, he had hopes of finding the happiness he’d been wanting for years. Now he had the land and a wife who said she loved him, but he also had to face the fact that he’d forced Savannah to marry him and then had killed the man she might have married. They had a lot to talk about when he got back from town.
❧
The last rays of sunlight dotted the horizon when Dante stepped onto the cabin’s porch hours later. The time at Sheriff Newton�
�s office had taken much longer than he expected, but he’d finally been allowed to leave. Thanks to the questioning of Sam Baker earlier in the day, Dante’s accounts of Jonathan’s death and of Savannah’s presence at the scene compelled the sheriff to accept Dante’s statement. He had returned home, but a more difficult task lay before him.
On the ride back from town, he’d pondered what he was going to say to Savannah. He knew from the beginning she only married him for the plantation, but he thought that had all changed. She’d said she loved him. But did she really mean it? If she did, why hadn’t she told him they were going to have a baby?
Dante pounded his fist against the post at the edge of the porch. It was time he found out.
He pushed the cabin door open and had no sooner stepped inside than Savannah appeared in the bedroom doorway. She’d already lit the lamps, and the flickering flames about the room cast a glow over her. The anger he’d felt a few minutes before dissolved at the sight of her waiting to welcome him home.
She smiled and hurried forward. “Let me help you with your coat.” She moved behind him and pulled the heavy coat from his shoulders. When it slipped from his arms, she turned and hung it next to the door. “Now sit down at the table. I have your supper ready. You’ve hardly eaten anything today and must be starved.”
He grabbed her arm before she could head to the stove. “Eating can wait, Savannah. I think we need to talk.”
Her lips trembled. “About what?”
He led her to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Sit down. There are some things we need to settle between us.”
Her eyes grew wide, but she eased into the chair without looking away from him. “You sound so serious, Dante. If it’s about Jonathan, I want you to know his death wasn’t your fault. He came here looking for trouble and meant for us to die. It’s because of his actions that he’s dead.”
Dante sat across from her, stretched his arms out on the table, and balled his fists. “I’ve tried to tell myself that, but the fact remains he still died at my hands.”
Columns of Cottonwood Page 14