by Caryl McAdoo
Dear Lacey,
You kissing me that day we left, well, I’ve been thinking hard on it most every night.
She knew it! He truly loved her and surely counted the days until he could come home to her. She blinked away tears then focused again. She envied his penmanship, so even and neat, but Ma always bragged on him so. Tracing his words with a fingertip, she made believe he wasn’t at war, only on a visit.
Here’s what I’ve decided. We’re almost siblings, or at least cousins. After all, you’re named after Mama and Uncle Wallace. The men are saying this war might last ten years, and well, here it is. You best think of me as just kin, and that’s all.
Your friend,
Sergeant Charles N. Nightingale
P.S. I got promoted to Buck Sergeant after we had a dust up with some Blue Coats. And Bart and Houston say hey. Between you and me, they wish they was home.
Charlotte beat on the door with cupped hands. She liked the popping sound it made. “Lacey Rose! You know the rules! You got dishes to wash, no nevermind you didn’t eat!”
She stuck her ear to the door. Nothing. She tried the handle again, but it still was locker than locked. “Lacey! Mama says you can’t stay in your room! Open the door!” She smacked the wood again, then kicked it for good measure.
Bending, she closed her left eye and covered it with three fingers, peering through the key hole with the other. The bit of her friend she could see didn’t move.
Was she really sick?
Moving her lips to the tiny hole, she tried to whisper. “You really sick, Lacey? Want me to get Miss Jewel? Maybe you need a good dose of castor oil.”
Nothing. She only lay there as though dead. Could she be? Had she gone and died? Mama said her heart was broken.
Charlotte backed away a step.
That’d be terrible.
Who’d help her with the dishes? She couldn’t do them all by herself! With her heart suddenly beating so loud she could hear it, she turned and bolted down the stairs two at a time.
Never went down so fast; shame Crockett wasn’t watching. But he’d probably try three at a time and break his fool neck just like Lacey Rose told him all the time afore she passed.
Charlotte didn’t stop to knock. Not with such a serious report and her father off playing general with her uncles.
The office sat quiet and empty. She ran through to the bedroom and checked.
No one in there either. So she raced to the kitchen. There was always someone in there.
“Mama! Auntie Jewel! Lacey Rose is dead!”
May jumped to her feet. “What? What are you saying, Charlotte Faye! Lacey is not dead!” She glanced over at Jewel, then to Rose. “Is she? Why are you saying such a horrible thing?”
Her baby nodded and gasped thee gulps of air. “Yes, ma’am. She sure is. I beat on her door just now like you said, but she didn’t come or holler for me to go away or nothing. So, I peeked through the keyhole, and she’s laying there dead on her bed. Not a muscle moving. So it’s true alright.”
“Oh, Charlotte!”
The little girl put her fist on one hip and glared at Aunt Rose. “I saw her, Auntie. All sprawled out on the bed.” She turned and face May. “I really did, Mama. I suspect that broken heart killed her.”
Remembering to breathe, she willed her silly heart calm. “Listen to me, my precious. You can’t do that.”
“Do what? I didn’t do anything, only peeked in.”
“No, I mean scare me like that. She isn’t dead, she’s only ignoring you. Now you stay here, and get started on the dishes. I’ll get my key, and Lacey will be down shortly.”
Without speaking, Rose and Rebecca both offered help, but May shook them off. She wanted a moment alone with the girl. The war of silence between her and Laura must stop. Retrieving her master key, she climbed the stairs then stopped at the very room she’d spent so many lonely nights in.
Even with Charlotte, and sometimes Crockett in her bed, the nights….
Once again, they swallowed her in their darkness and choked her with loneliness, no matter how hard she prayed. And it seemed it only got worse with each passing day.
Her Henry was gone.
She unlocked the door. “Lacey Rose, sit up. We need to talk. You cannot hide under those covers. Not from me.”
The little ingrate ignored her.
May marched to the bed, grabbed the covers and flung them back. Only rolled quilts and extra pillows lay atop the sheets. She looked around the room. “Where are you hiding, young lady. Step out now.” She walked to the water closet.
The chair normally in front of the dresser stood in the middle of the room.
A quick glance to the ceiling affirmed the scuttle hole’s mouth gaped open. “Oh, girl, what have you done?”
Back in the room, she searched and found a note on the writing desk, right next to the letter from Charley. She read them both then hurried downstairs. She’d send Jean Paul after Lacey. She couldn’t have gone far.
Though Laura wanted to, Chester went with Jean Paul, thanks to him putting his foot down. But the men came back empty-handed just before dark, claimed there was no sign of the young woman.
No one in town, nor had any of the neighbors seen her. They’d found the horse she must have left on, hobbled in the last field on the edge of their property.
Smart girl. No one could claim she stole the beast. Moving livestock around was no crime as far as May knew.
After a very somber supper, she invited Laura to the library.
“What are we going to do, Miss May? All the men who could track her are off with the army. Jean Paul promised me he’ll not rest until he finds her, but if she’s gone north, he’s liable to get himself scalped if he crosses the Red.”
“Chester said he wired word in every direction. If anyone sees her, they’ll let us know. He placed a handsome reward on her safe return.”
“Thank you for that. Jean Paul told me, but it’s her note bothers me most.” She flipped the folded page onto the desk.
“I know what it says.” May took a deep breath. “That’s part of why I asked you to come talk. We need to figure out what we’re going to do once she’s home again.”
Laura wiped her cheeks then leaned back, not relaxed really, but not quite so frantic either, as though May saying a thing made it so.
Way she saw it, no need for any negativity. How many times had Henry told her? When things seemed bad—whatsoever things are lovely and pure, worthy of a good report—think on those things.
“I’m thinking, we need to love her. And not punish her for running off.”
The woman scooted up. “Oh, yes, I’ll love on her plenty, hug her so tight, she’s likely to think I’m about to squeeze her right in two…right after I tan her hide.”
After too many words and tears, all Lacey’s mother agreed totally with was to pray over it, no matter how convincingly May assured her it would never happen again or how she’d tried to extract a promise of leniency.
Hopefully, the Lord would help her to see the wisdom in not treating the girl as a ten-year-old.
Once the door closed, she retrieved the letter and read it again.
Dear Aunt May,
I’m sorry to leave your home like this—the only one I’ve ever known, especially after you and Uncle Henry have been so gracious and kind. But as you can see from his letter, Charley doesn’t love me like I thought.
And the woman who bore me sure doesn’t. Jean Paul’s nice enough, but he isn’t my real dad. I just can’t stay anymore.
I’ll surely see Charley everywhere I look and that will only break my heart again and again. Auntie, you and Uncle Henry have always been real nice, but when your own mother hates you…has she told you she called me a half-breed? Probably not! How could she hate her own daughter so much?
It wasn’t my fault. I never asked to be born.
Well, I hate her, too! Tell the woman who was my mother that I’m going to live with my father’s people. Charli
e told me once that Comanche have no word for half-breed. It’s as hard to even think of never seeing him again…as it is to ever loving her.
Apparently, I’m not worthy to be a white man’s wife, so perhaps I can find happiness with a nice Comanche brave. One who will love me, the way my father supposedly loved my mother.
Please don’t send anyone to try and find me. It will be a waste of time. Comanche squaws can vanish in the wind just like the warriors.
Love and blessings,
Bear Fang’s daughter.
Chapter Three
Lacey rolled the spud away from the coals and tested it with her knife. Forget that it didn’t poke easily through, her belly pronounced it soft enough. She blew the first two bites cool then wolfed down the rest without salt or butter.
Shame her Uncle Wallace had boarded up the house, but at least he’d left a sack of potatoes in the root cellar. Sure dry though. She’d take them with her, maybe pick up a pinch of salt and some oil or butter along the way.
The first flash of sun peeked over the treetops. As much as she wanted to see what was inside the house that might be worth taking with her, no way could she get the boards back like they were, and someone would know she’d been there.
How many times had her honorary uncle told her anything belonged to him—if she needed it—belonged to her as well? After all, she was his namesake. So it wouldn’t be like stealing.
Many a time she’d pondered on how different things might have been if only he’d have given up on Princess Rebecca and married Lacey’s mama instead.
But she could take whatever she wanted.
He wouldn’t care.
Still, she wanted them to think she’d gone west, not east. That was her best chance. The spuds would have to do.
Those and the hand axe she’d found in his tool shed. Sharp and ready on top of her extra clothes in her carpetbag. Pity the fool who tried to do her any harm. The knife would probably prove plenty enough, but the sight of the hatchet, too, should stop anyone in their tracks. She’d practice a little, too.
All the time in the world belonged to her.
She loved the freedom.
Mid-morning found her at a crossroads at least three miles east of English. If she had it right, she needed to go south and shadow the main road leading to DeKalb.
Before she decided for sure and certain that was the way she needed to go, the rattle of trace chains put her back into the trees’ shadows.
Last thing she needed!
Being spotted still so close to home could be disastrous to her plan. The family had surely spread the word by then. Probably even spent a day or two searching, but it’d been five nights gone by, and hopefully, they all figured her to be long gone.
Her mother was probably glad. Old biddy. Wasn’t Lacey’s fault who her father was.
A full-loaded logging wagon pulled by two giant jack mules rolled down the road. She recognized the beasts, and the young man in the driver’s seat, too. Jed Briggs.
His older brother Jasper drove those same animals delivering timber to Uncle Henry’s sawmill. He parked them in the barn a while, too, hoping to court Bonnie, except she wasn’t near as interested.
Shadowing her eyes, Lacey peered at the wagon. Crazy boy was talking to himself. Looked like he carried on a two-sided conversation, too.
Purely surprised her how well Jed handled those mules, but being a year younger than her, she didn’t figure he should even be out there a good five miles from his house. And going in the wrong direction, too.
Should she tell him? He was nice enough, a good boy. And she did know about that time.…
Once past, she stepped from the trees’ cover and jogged until even with the off-front wheel. She tossed her bag in then rode the wheel spoke up and flopped on the bench next to her friend.
“Hey, Jed. You’re going the wrong direction, you know. Uncle Henry’s sawmill is west of here. Get turned around?”
“Am not. Ain’t going to the Buckmeyers’place. I’m taking this cypress to Phillips; him and Pa made a deal for the logs before the war broke out, and he still wants them. Some rich guy somewhere ordered them. Got to be ten inchers at the top. But, hey yourself anyway. What are you doing way out here, Lacey?”
“Oh, I had to run get something at Uncle Wallace’s. So you going all the way to DeKalb, huh?” Should she chance passing anyone headed back to Clarksville?
“Maybe, but…why’d you get in my wagon heading away from home? And what have you got in the bag?” He turned and stared. “You running off?”
“Why, no! Silly you.” She hated lying, but he shouldn’t have asked. None of his business.
“Then what?”
“Remember that time at church when you and Bobby Ray snuck off during the covered dish dinner? Well, I followed you and I saw the two of you sinners smoking behind the hotel. You remember that, Jed?”
“What of it?”
“Point is, I didn’t tell.”
“So. Didn’t make no difference. Bobby Ray’s ma smelled it on him, then he stooled us both off. I still got strapped for it. What about it?”
Well, fine. Maybe she didn’t have that on him, but there was one thing she could give him, and it wouldn’t be like for real…him being younger…it’d only be part of a trade. “You going all the way to DeKalb by yourself or not?”
“Yes, I am. Least I was. Hey, why not? I’m coming sixteen next year. With Jasper run off to the war with Pa and the uncles, I’m the man of the house now.”
“Well? Remember how you and Bobby Ray always pestered me for a kiss?”
“’Course I do. You’s never willing though, as I recall.”
“Well…I am now…if you get me to DeKalb. And you’ll have to cross your heart and hope to die not to tell anyone you ever saw me.”
“You are running off. I knew it. Where are you heading?”
“Jedidiah Briggs, hush up. Now do you want a kiss or not?”
“My lips on yours?”
“Can you keep a secret?”
He nodded. “Sure I can. I won’t tell no one.”
What a deal. It being only a trade, wouldn’t count nothing. Besides, wasn’t like Charley would care. “So, do you agree? A kiss for the ride and your silence. Is it a deal?”
“How long?”
“What do you mean how long? Forever, you’re never to tell, ever!”
“No, I mean the kiss…how long?”
“Jed, that’s just goofy. What are you thinking? You’re going to count or something? A kiss’ worth! And you have to keep your hands in your pockets, too, or it’s no deal.”
“Can I tell Bobby Ray? Please just let me tell Bobby, and you back me up.”
“Fine, but just him, and no one else. You got to swear him to privacy first though. Can he be trusted?” Ha! The dumb bunny thought she’d be back! This would be perfect. “You have to wait until Sunday next, or I can’t back you up. Not a word until then.”
He flicked the reins over the mules’ backs then grinned at her. “Is that when you’ll be back?”
“No, silly, but I am not going to church this coming Sunday if it’s any of your business. Do you want a kiss or not, Jed Briggs?”
“Who you going to see in DeKalb?”
“None of your business! Now do you want the deal, or should I just get out now? Of course, you’d have the pleasure of my company all the way as well. Won’t have to talk to yourself.”
“No, it is a good deal.” He turned sideways, put both reins in his left hand, and and stuck out his right. “I want it. I’ll take it.”
She took his oversized paw. The boy already had man-sized mitts, and she gave him a firm shake like Uncle Wallace taught her. He turned back, but kept his hand wrapped around hers. Guess it didn’t hurt to give him a sweetener.
“I don’t talk to myself, Lacey Rose.”
“I saw you, Jed.”
For the next half mile or so, the boy didn’t say a word, then he glanced over. “You’re right. I
was, but, well…it’s a long way to Phillips’. I am pleased you come along.”
She liked that. Him confessing he lied. But that didn’t mean she could do likewise. The road forked, and he eased the team north. “What are you doing? Main road’s south.”
“I know where we are. I’ve done made this trip three other times.”
“Then why are we going this way?”
“Oh, I figured you might like it better, less traffic and all. The stage racing around scares the mules some, and –”
“Why would you think I’d like it better?”
“We’re liable not to meet anyone at all going this way.”
She didn’t need to tell him anything. The immature child might want more than a kiss if he knew for sure she was running off. “Spooking the team would be bad.”
“Yes, ma’am, and there’s a better campsite on this road.”
Campsite? He wasn’t making town before evening? How far was DeKalb anyway?
The one and only time she’d been, Jean Paul drove her and that woman of his in the buggy. She remembered it being an easy one-day trip. She glanced at the road side. “How fast you figure we’re going?”
“I keep ‘em on a two-mile-an-hour pace. Pa says pulling this much weight I’d wear the old boys down going faster. Costs me time in the long run, but they’re good mules. Ma sent some of her stew for supper.”
Food! A real honest to goodness cooked meal beat dry potatoes to the stars and back. But…other issues arose, talking about spending a night on the road. Her mother and Miss May would plum have heart attacks!
She yanked her hand from his and turned sideways, glaring. “Are you a gentleman, Jedidiah Briggs?”
His lips turned down. “You know me, Lacey. Why, I’d never take any advantage.”
“Good. That’s real good, because if you were to try anything, I’d have to hurt you, and I wouldn’t want to do that.” She hoped she sounded firm enough. “And you know I can.”
“You can sleep under the wagon, and I’ll build me a nice fire to bed down by.”
She turned back, staring ahead, but put her hand out on top of his.