Rapture's Rendezvous

by Cassie Edwards

  Maria laughed softly. “Yes, I believe we have,” she murmured, accepting the hand, also in friendship. “You make beautiful flowers.”

  “And you make beautiful music, Maria,” the woman said.

  “This is Angelina Monteleone,” Alberto said, moving next to Angelina. His eyes showed it all. He had found the woman of his dreams. “And this is my sister, Maria. But, of course, you already know this,” he added, laughing lightly.

  Angelina smiled warmly. “Yes. Like I said, Alberto, Maria and I have already met.”

  Alberto's brow furrowed. “Did you say something about Maria and her music?” he asked, looking toward the bed, seeing the violin in its case. “How would you know . .. ?”

  • “We met one day in Creal Springs,” Maria said, swinging around, securing the locks on her violin case. She bent to slide it beneath her bed once again. Seeing it reminded her too much of her losses. The music she could no longer pull from the violin … and her Papa … and possibly even Michael. But surely Nathan had been wrong about Michael.. . .

  “And … ?” Alberto said impatiently, clasping his hands tightly behind him.

  Angelina cast her eyes downward. “I was selling my flowers for pennies, and Maria … was … uh playing her violin, also for coins to be tossed at her feet.”

  Alberto's face first shadowed, then he burst into a fit of laughter.

  Maria's jaws tightened. “What's so funny, Alberto?” she said, eyeing him questioningly.

  “You must have drawn such crowds,” he said, softening his mood, wiping his eyes. “Two such beauties? Wish I had been there.”

  Maria began to pace the floor. “That's where Nathan Hawkins first saw me,” she blurted. “I only wish I had stayed where I belonged. In this house. Where no one like him could have discovered me.”

  “Let's not talk about Nathan Hawkins, Maria,” Alberto said, going to her, grabbing her by the arm. “By tomorrow night, there won't even be a Nathan Hawkins to talk about. So … let's … pretend … this is tomorrow night.”

  Maria's eyes wavered as she reached for Alberto's hand. “Alberto, I must talk about Nathan,” she whispered. “He was here. Only moments ago.”

  Alberto's face reddened with rage. “He was here? That bastard was here? Immediately after our Papa was lowered into the ground?” He hung his head, kneading his brow. “He never gives up, does he?”

  “He said many things, Alberto,” Maria said.

  Angelina spoke up. “Let's move to the kitchen. I shall make some tea.’ Maybe that will make everyone feel better about things.” She went to Alberto and touched him gently on the cheek. “The kitchen. Please direct me to it?”

  “Yes. I guess a bit of tea is what we all need,” he grumbled. “Hell. I need something stronger. But that can wait.”

  Maria followed along behind them and helped Angelina until they were sitting around the table, sipping on the warm liquid.

  “Nathan said that Michael was the cause of the explosion,” she suddenly blurted, swallowing hard, seeing the lines deepening around Alberto's eyes.

  “He'd say anything to persuade you to hate Michael. Maria, Nathan Hawkins is completely responsible. Don't doubt that for a moment.”

  “But he said that violence follows alongside the union men. Could it be true? It was quiet at the mine until the union began spreading its tales around.”

  “Tales?” Alberto shouted. “Tales? You speak of tales when our Papa is lying dead? It's because of these tales of truth that Nathan Hawkins resorted to fencing in the coal mine and placing machine guns everywhere, and that searchlight on the mine's tipple. If our men would've listened sooner to these ‘tales,’ as you choose to call them, then we would've seen investigators coming to this coal mine and would've seen improvements in everything about our life around here. No. Nathan Hawkins is a liar. Don't ever doubt that for a moment.”

  “What are the whisperings about? The ones I heard at the funeral?”

  “We are going to get Nathan Hawkins. Tomorrow night. When all his men are asleep. In the middle of the night. We are going to get Nathan Hawkins.”

  “Do you . .. really .. . mean … ?”

  Alberto laughed hoarsely. “Yes. Exactly.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “It's all such a nightmare,” Maria said, pulling the satin drapery aside, looking down upon the hustle and bustle of the crowds along the streets and walks of Saint Louis.

  “What is, darling?” Michael asked, turning her, sweeping her into his arms. He traced her birthmark with the tip of a finger, then kissed it gently.

  “That last terrible night in Hawkinsville,” she murmured.

  “The night you became a . . . uh . . . widow?”

  Maria lowered her eyes. “Yes. Yes, that night,” she gulped, remembering it so vividly, she felt as though she was experiencing it all over again. If she closed her eyes, she could see again the way the sky had lit up in bright red. Against the blackness of the night, it had been so evident what had happened. The mob had set fire to Nathan's house. And when she had heard the one gunshot being fired, echoing over and over again in her ears, she had known who had been the recipient of that lone bullet. The coal miners had gone to rid the earth of Nathan and they had succeeded. One act of violence had sparked many more, to end up with the death of Nathan. The men had acted while Nathan's men slept, and once Nathan's men had been awakened to the sure sounds of violence, they had fled, leaving Hawkinsville to its Italian inhabitants.

  “Can't you just forget it?” Michael asked, holding her closely, putting his nose into the depths of her hair.

  “But how could the Italian people perform an act of murder so easily? Don't they have . . . any .. . con-science?”

  “Darling, please. . . .” Michael whispered.

  “To all be involved in the way they were,” she continued. “It was a conspiracy. I still can't believe it, even though Alberto warned me before it even happened. I didn't believe they would go through with it. And Alberto? He was among those who circled Nathan's house. How do I know that it wasn't even Alberto himself who pulled the trigger of the murder weapon?”

  Michael pushed her away from him, to hold her at arm's length, scowling. “But, darling, don't you see? That's why all are protected,” he said. “Each man who chose to go that night held a gun. Each had pointed that gun toward the house, waiting for Nathan's exit. The men were clever enough to have emptied the chamber of one bullet of each gun, all but one gun, held by the man who would shoot Nathan, so that all the guns would have the same amount of bullets left in their chambers once the fatal shot was fired. Only the coal miners know who it was who fired that fatal shot. No one else. And no one is talking. No court in America would send fifty men to jail for that one crime without having proof or a witness to swear to the one who had fired that one shot. So will you please quit worrying your mind so over it? In the eyes of the law, all have been cleared of the crime. So must you. You hated the man. Now he is gone. He's no longer around to make lives miserable. The world is rid of vermin. Think of it that way.”

  “I know,” she sighed. “But I guess my mind will be full of the terror of that night for much longer than I have control over.”

  “Darling, I. . ..” Michael began, but was stopped by Maria's further words.

  “I am so glad you weren't involved. Oh, so glad,” she murmured. “If you had been, I would always wonder if it had been you who had pulled the gun's trigger. I don't think I could bear such a life of doubt about you.”

  Michael's face reddened. He had come close to confessing his role in the shooting . . . that it was he who had sneaked the guns to the men .. . that it was he who had devised the whole thing He had thought she would be proud, but instead. . . . She could never know the complete truth. No. Never!

  “Just be glad that Mama Pearl's life was saved,” he said. “At least she escaped unharmed.”

  “But what if she hadn't?”

  “But-she didand she is now with us. She will remain on as o
ur maid. We couldn't have gotten better.”

  “Yes, you are right, my love,” Maria said.

  Her eyes raked over Michael and she thought how handsome he was on this fine day that was to be the opening of the Saint Louis World's Fair. He looked quite dignified in his navy blue, pin-striped suit, worn with a pale blue pure silk shirt with a detachable collar. His diamond stickpin shone back at her from his navy blue cravat in colors of the rainbow and his eyes were twinkling in many different shades of blue.

  She reached up and ran her fingers across the smoothness of his golden hair, then over the gentleness of his jaw. When a smile lifted the corners of his lips, she felt as though she was melting inside. Would he always have the same effect on her? She leaned into his embrace, sighing heavily. If anyone could make her forget the torment she had only recently gone through, Michael could. Footsteps entering the room made Maria turn with a start. Then she smiled….

  “I think I've got the weddin’ gown ready for ya'all, Sweet Thing,” Mama Pearl said, moving toward Maria with an armful of what appeared to be only white lace. She then held this gathering of lace up before her and watched Maria's face light up.

  “It is simply gorgeous, Mama Pearl,” Maria gasped, going to run her fingers over the lines of the gown. It was of organza and Alencon lace, studded with seed pearls. It would be worn with a lace face veil in front, and a fingertip veil in back. Also, a chapel-length train would be added on the day of the wedding, also covered with lace appliques.

  “So mah Sweet Baby likes it?” Mama Pearl said, squinting her dark eyes that were already mostly hidden by the wrinkled flesh of her face.

  “It's breathtaking,” Maria sighed, lifting the skirt of the gown, letting it ripple slowly back in deep gathers in Mama Pearl's arms. “I can hardly wait,” she added.

  “It won't be long now.” Mama Pearl giggled. “And do ya'all think Alberto's Angelina will have such a gown? A double weddin’ sho will be somethin’ special. A weddin’ of twins marryin’ up with their loved ones. Both brides should be extraordinarily beautiful.”

  “Yes. I've spoken with Angelina by phone,” Maria said. “Angelina and I don't want exact gowns, you know. So she has ordered a gown that will have tripled layers of ivory silk organza, with a chapel-length train and embroidered bodice. It will also have a pouf-sleeved jacket with a peplum and a high ruffled neckline. Her veil will be in Alencon lace and organza.”

  Michael laughed heartily as he took Maria's hands in his. “How'd you memorize all of that?”

  Maria blushed a bit. “Whenever it is a wedding gown being spoken of, a woman remembers each and every detail.”

  “I'm so glad that Alberto and Angelina will arrive on time for the ceremony.”

  “Alberto seems to have everything in order at Hawkinsville now. Once the state investigators okayed the return of the men to the coal mine, it took a load off Alberto's shoulders.”

  “If anyone should know that, I should,” Michael said, kissing Maria's right hand, then releasing both, to move to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a glass of port. “Want a glass, darling?” he asked, tilting a brow in her direction.

  “No. Not really,” she murmured.

  “And you, Mama Pearl?” he asked, extending a full glass in her direction.

  Mama Pearl giggled a bit. “No, Mastah Hoppah. I've got chores waitin'. Just ya'all and my Sweet Baby enjoy.” She swung around, heavy-hipped in her cotton attire, and lumbered from the room.

  Maria went and eased onto a deeply upholstered velveteen chair. She looked around her, seeing the expensive furnishings of this hotel suite, which she and Michael had been sharing with Mama Pearl until Michael's penthouse apartment would be finished. This hotel suite was quite comfortable, with its rich ness of furnishings and draperies. Its pale green carpet-ings stretched out from wall to wall and from room to room. The wallpaperings were of peaceful designs in pale gold, and the electric lights added a pleasurable glow to the room.

  Michael settled down across from her and lighted a cigar. Then with a cigar between his fingers of one hand, and his glass of port in the other, he sighed leisurely. “Yep. Sure glad to have Mama Pearl around,” he said. “Then when we start having our children in twos, you can just sit back and relax and enjoy watching them grow.”

  “In twos . . •. ?”

  “You and Alberto? You're twins. Maybe we'll add another set of twins to the family.”

  Maria laughed lightly. “I'm not so sure. . . .” she said.

  He laughed amusedly, then said, “Do you like the idea of having a double wedding, darling?”

  “Yes. It will complete the bond between Alberto and myself. Then we can make our much needed separa-tion—when he walks from the church with his wife … and I walk from the church with my husband. I think it's quite appropriate. And thank you for doing this for us all. You know that Alberto wouldn't be able to have such an expensive wedding otherwise. And the gown you have purchased for Angelina! Michael, you continue to amaze me with your kindness.”

  “Well, I like happy endings,” he laughed gruffly.

  “And this will be just that,” Maria said. “This will be.”

  “You look quite beautiful today, darling,” Michael said thickly. “Do you know how beautiful?”

  Maria glanced downward at her suit, fingering its velvet trim. She loved this Eton suit in blue broadcloth trimmed with folds of matching velvet. And then she reached up and touched the hat that she already had perched atop her head, ready for their escape into the afternoon sun. It was of a toque style with a velvet brim and a silk crown and bow. She knew that she was a picture of style, but she still hated the tightly laced corset that kept her panting for breath at times.

  “I do feel fit as a fiddle in these clothes,” she finally answered. “Again, Michael, you are too kind.”

  “You must get used to my whims,” he laughed throatily. “Each day I might pop in with a new hat for you. Who knows?”

  Maria's face darkened, remembering the large array of hats that had burned in Nathan's house. He had been as generous in his own devious ways. He had almost bought out the stores their one time in Saint Louis. She turned her eyes away from Michael, trying to hide the shadows that had crept across her face. She wanted so badly to forget. She had to forget. It was all behind her now. The Italian community was safe now. Their living conditions were being improved as each day passed. Alberto had taken charge. With the money loaned to him and the families of Hawkinsville by the United Mine Workers of America, running water had been installed in each household, electricity had been wired, and a siding of sorts had been nailed outside each house, enabling the people to stay warmer in the upcoming storms of winter.

  “Darling,” Michael said. “You are lost in thought once again.”

  Maria turned her eyes to him, fluttering her lashes nervously. “Yes. I do that. I'm sorry,” she murmured.

  “You know the mine is safe now,” he said. “Alberto is safe working the mines now as are all the other coal miners. Isn't that what we were striving for? Didn't the union make coal mining safer and more secure economically for your people? You shouldn't fret any longer.”

  “But my mind has been drawn back to . . . what was found when the investigators searched deep inside the coal mine,” she uttered, covering her mouth with her hands, feeling sick inside all over again. If not for Michael and the persistence of his men, would she in the end have also been found there—decapitated . . . dead … ?

  Michael took a quick swallow of port, then puffed angrily on his cigar. “Yes. I know what you are thinking of,” he said hoarsely. “You are remembering the . . . uh . .. women's bodies found when the investigators worked their way to the back of the mine. The earlier wives of Nathan Hawkins.”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I'm remembering that. What if… ?” She couldn't help but shudder.

  “But, he didn't get the chance, did he?” Michael reassured her. “Now we know all the reasons for his protecting his mine from the snoo
ping of investigators. He had used the mine for a grave. A dark, deep grave.” He looked heavy-lidded toward Maria. “You are safe. Thank God you are safe. Nathan Hawkins didn't get the chance to”do . . . uh the . . . same with you.. . .”

  “Only because I was with him for such a short time,” she stammered. “What if . . . ?”

  “Enough of such talk,” Michael said, rising, taking his empty glass to the liquor cabinet. “Let's concen trate on plcasanter things. Let's head on to the fair. What do you say?” He mashed his cigar out in an ashtray, then offered her his arm.

  “Yes, let's,” Maria said, pushing herself up from the chair. She accepted Michael's arm and walked with him from their suite, on out into the hallway, and watched as he pressed the button for the elevator.

  “Ready to ride the moving box once again?” Michael teased, laughing.

  Maria's heartbeat began to hasten. She didn't like to disclose her fears of this box to Michael. She didn't want him to think her a child, with childish notions. But the elevator always set her worst fears in action. What if the box fell? What if the box doors didn't open and they were trapped … ?

  “Well? Darling?” Michael persisted, guiding her on inside the elevator as its doors rattled open.

  Trying to hide the trembling in her fingers, Maria watched the door as it was shoved shut. Then she barely breathed as the box moved downward in awkward jerks. And when the door opened once again, revealing the hotel lobby to her and all its merry chatter of people coming and going, only then could she force a smile and move on next to Michael out into the busy streets.

  “Angelina, you might appear to be tiny-boned,” Alberto said, breathing heavily, feeling an aching in his arms. “But you are quite heavy.”

  Angelina giggled as she clung to his neck. They weren't married yet, and this was only a fun way to practice. She began to kick her feet slowly as Alberto stepped on across the threshold that would lead diem into what would soon be their honeymoon suite at the grand Planter's Hotel. “But, Alberto, I'm heavier on this, the day before our wedding,” she murmured.