She let out a quiet laugh. “How do you feel about that?”
“I understand some things that I didn’t before. I know why I was sent away. Knowing that it was for my protection makes it easier to forgive my mother.”
“I’m so glad. I’ve prayed for years that God would help you understand. I knew He would make a way. Do you remember anything about your brothers and sisters?”
“The pieces are starting to fit together.”
“Family’s important. Don’t forget that.”
“Yes, ma’am. You’re right. All these years, I’ve felt like I didn’t have a family. As much as I love you and Uncle Daniel, it wasn’t the same as having flesh-and-blood family close by.”
“I understand. Although we still consider you another son.”
“I know. And I feel the same way.”
“You’re not finished with the diaries, are you?”
“Not quite. There’s not a lot left, though.”
“You finish those books and get home to your family, sweet boy. We love you and miss you.”
“I will.”
Andy said good-bye and hung up. He glanced at the diary still in his hand, and a sense of urgency shot through him. To be done with these. To finish what he came to do and go home. Reconcile with his wife, maybe even start attending church again. He and Lexie had plenty of time to talk about adopting children. He would love any children they brought into their home as much as Uncle Daniel and Aunt Lois had loved him and raised him as their own.
He sat at the kitchen table and opened the diary once more.
1879
Relief flooded Cat when the doctor announced her well, with no sign of miscarriage as far as he could tell. “But I’d advise you to get plenty of rest.”
Camilla thanked the doctor and walked him out.
Shaw peeked around the corner of Cat’s bedroom door and gave a tap.
Tears flooded Cat’s eyes and she reached for her friend. “Thank you for saving my baby. And most likely me.”
“Weren’t me alone. De Lawd done sent me to ya.”
“I prayed. For the first time since I was a child.”
“Dat’s a good thing, Miss Cat.
A knock at the door broke off any response Cat might have made. She smiled at her son. A tentative, wary smile. “Come in, Henry.” How would he react to knowing she was going to have another baby?
“You feeling okay?”
“I will be soon. Thank you for asking.”
He nodded, then cleared his throat nervously.
“Mercy, Henry Jr., what is it?”
“Hank. Please.”
Cat looked him in the eye. The eyes of a man, not a child. “Hank,” she said, smiling with pride at her son. “You obviously want to say something.”
“Now might not be the best time to mention this, but. . .”
“What is it?” Dread nipped at Cat’s insides like an unruly puppy.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving Penbrook. Tonight. Annie’s coming with me. I have signed away my rights to Penbrook to Camilla.”
“No! Henry, don’t throw away your life.”
“You mean for a Negro?”
“You know that’s what I mean.”
“Why shouldn’t I marry her? I have Negro blood as well, and I have no rights to Penbrook.”
“I did not sacrifice your entire childhood and my chance to marry your father so you could grow up and throw away every opportunity I’ve given you. Sleep with her if you must, but do not marry her.”
Henry stepped close and bent, kissing her on the cheek. “Good-bye. . .Mother.”
Cat threw back the coverlet and padded after him into the hallway. She grabbed his arm. “Please. Please don’t do this.”
Thomas emerged from his room. “Leave the boy alone, Cat. For God’s sake.”
“Thomas, please speak to him. Don’t let him throw away his future.”
Thomas pointed to the bottom of the stairs, where Annie waited. “Take a good look at her. That is our son’s future.” He leaned in close to her ear. Cat smelled liquor on his breath. “You gave away our happiness for absolutely nothing.”
Tears streamed down Cat’s cheeks as she released Henry’s arm and turned back toward her room. Somehow she knew she’d never see her son again. It all seemed so pointless. She stretched out across the bed and placed her hand on her still-flat stomach. Maybe this baby would be her second chance to do something right.
1948
Dawn stretched along the horizon by the time Andy made his way back to his bedroom. He’d been in bed only a few minutes when Delta knocked on his door and announced that Miss Penbrook was asking for him.
“All right, I’m coming,” he said, around a wide yawn.
Delta’s lip pushed out in disapproval. “Boy, you gots to learn when’s for sleepin’ and when’s for doin’.”
“I’ll get back to night sleeping soon enough. I’m almost done with the diaries.”
Delta handed him a mug of steaming coffee, which he gratefully accepted. “Just don’ spill it on nothin’.”
Andy slipped his arm around her. “You know, you shouldn’t be so grouchy with me. We’re practically family.”
She let out a loud harrumph. “So they finally told ya, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I reckon you think you’s too good for the likes of them.”
“Nope.” He winked at her and hurried to the stairs. “And to be honest, most of them are too good for me.”
“About time you figured that out.” Her smile made Andy feel as though he’d singlehandedly won the World Series.
When he reached Miss Penbrook’s door, he knocked loud enough so she could hear. At her bidding, he entered. “Good morning. Miss Delta said you’d like to see me.”
“Yes. I’m feeling a little better today.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Would you like me to open your blinds, ma’am? The sun is rising perfectly just outside your window.”
“How thoughtful.” Her frail voice and politeness worried him.
He opened the blinds. “Would you like me to prop you up so you can get a better view?”
“Why all the niceness all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know. Just in a good mood.”
She sniffed. “Wish I had something to be in a good mood about. I don’t want to be a hundred years old.” She stared at the pink and orange painting rising from the eastern horizon. “I wanted so much more for my life.” She turned her gaze to him. “What about you? Has life fulfilled your expectations?”
Andy couldn’t hold back his grin. “You know it hasn’t. Is that question your way of getting me to open up?”
“Don’t be smart. Tell me about your dinner with the family.”
“Not much gets by you, does it?”
“Well, Delta is Buck’s aunt.” She scowled at him. “What do you think? Are you happy to be reacquainted with them, or are you too uppity to appreciate them?”
“I enjoyed it. Are you surprised?”
“No.” She reached up and patted his cheek, then dropped her hand as though the sheer act of moving her arm was too much for her. She closed her eyes and gathered in a slow, laborious breath. “I’m not long for this earth, Andy. Before I die, I need to know, what are you going to do with the diaries?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to write my story?”
“I don’t need to write it. You already have. In pages of pages of journals.”
“They’re disjointed. I need someone to piece together the truth.”
“Are you sure you want me to reveal so much about you to the world? You’ve kept your secret this long. Why come out with it now?”
“I trust you, Andy-boy. You’ll know the right thing to do when the time comes.”
“Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”
“For a little while.”
“Some of the diaries are missing. If my guess is ri
ght, they’re from the ten years you spent in Chicago with Stuart Riley.”
She nodded. “You would be correct. Those aren’t for you.”
Jealousy pinched him, but he knew better than to try to press Miss Penbrook when she didn’t want to be pressed.
“All right, then. Tell me about the new baby.”
1880
Cat sat on the bench next to Shaw and gave an exasperated huff. She stretched out her arms toward the child on his shoulder. “It’s my turn to hold him. He’s my baby, isn’t he?”
A frown creased Shaw’s brow. “Dis here chile be de Lawd’s chile, and don’ ya be forgettin’ it. He saved yo’ baby boy.”
“I know, I know. I was there, remember? But I did have to carry and birth him, so he’s mine, too. Don’t you think God might share him with his mother?”
She smiled down at her precious, sleeping two-month-old son. Perfect in every way. The herb hadn’t been designed for anything other than to alter Cat’s mind and weaken her so that Madame Flora could perform the abortion without resistance. But Cat had heard a voice telling her to resist. It could only have been God. “I know God saved my baby, Shaw.”
“I knows it, too. An’ I ’spected ya to show a bit o’ thanks and serve Him now. But ya jus’ go on and on, thinkin’ it be okay to run yo’ own life. I knows ya done sent Cap’n Riley a letter and ya plan to take dis here boy back and set him smack dab in de middle of a life o’ sin betwixt his mama an’ his pappy.”
“So what if I am? What business is that of yours?”
Stuart was due to arrive on Tuesday’s train. Cat had three days to ready herself and the baby.
“God saved dat chile from the mouf o’ de lion for a reason, Miss Cat, an’ ya gots to make sure an’ teach him right.”
Cat snatched her baby from Shaw’s arms and cuddled him close. She shuddered at the memory of Madame Flora and her plan to use Cat’s abortion as a blood sacrifice in order to heighten her dark powers.
When Cat had believed her to have transformed into a beast, she had merely donned a grotesque mask with the face and mane of a lion as part of her ritual.
Even in Cat’s semiconscious state of mine, she’d been aware of exactly when the battle was over. Shaw had commanded Madame Flora to leave Penbrook land never return. And they hadn’t seen her since. Rumor had it she had taken up residence in the next county over and had resumed her practice.
“Comp’ny’s comin’.” Shaw stood as a wagon rattled up the oak-lined path.
“I wonder who would be coming out today.” She peered closer, but the sun’s glare prevented a clear picture. She stood and carried the baby to the steps for a better view. A parasol peeked out over the seat of the hired buggy. The driver-for-hire waved as the buggy swayed and rattled closer.
“Hello, Joe-Joe,” she called. “How are you?”
“Doin’ good, Miss Cat.”
“How are the children and Dora?”
“We’s about to add another ’un to the family.” He beamed with pride.
“Congratulations. And how is Miss Lucy Tremaine?”
“Well, Miss Cat, she be gettin’ a mite fat, I’s afraid.”
Laughter exploded from Cat. “Good for her! Last time I saw her, that poor girl was barely skin on bones.”
He pulled the reins and the buggy halted. “I brung ya a visitor.”
The lacy parasol shifted as the passenger stood and accepted Joe-Joe’s help down the steps. When Cat recognized the woman, her stomach plummeted. “Shaw,” she whispered, “take the baby.”
“What’s wrong, Miss Cat?” he asked as he did shuffled little Daniel into the curve of his neck.
“Mrs. Riley.”
“Who?”
The woman stepped forward as though she owned every inch of the land. She held her head with dignity and her posture bespoke a queen granting favors. She addressed Shaw. “As she said, I am Mrs. Riley. Her lover’s wife.” She turned her gaze to the bundle Shaw held in his arms.
“May I have a look?”
Shaw angled his body to give her a view.
Her expression softened. “He favors my husband a great deal.”
Cat finally found her voice. “I think so, too. May I ask why you are here, Mrs. Riley? I’m sure your visit isn’t to congratulate me on the birth of my son.”
“How astute. May I hold the child while your servant carries my bags into the house?”
“Shaw is not a servant. He is a friend.”
“I see. In that case,” she said to Shaw, “may I ask a favor of you, sir? My bags are going to be left on the ground by that hired cabbie who assures me that unloading luggage is not included in the ridiculous fare I paid for the privilege of riding in a buggy that I rather feared might not make it in one piece.”
“It’d be my pleasure, ma’am.” Shaw handed the baby to Stuart’s wife without so much as a glance asking Cat’s permission. Which she most certain would not have given. He ignored her glare.
“Thank you.” Mrs. Riley looked down at the sleeping boy, and a look of awe smoothed the wrinkles around her eyes. “He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” she said softly.
“I think so.”
“May I sit with him?”
“Yes, on the bench.”
As she sat, Cat faced her, leaning back against a pillar. “Would you like to explain your presence now, Mrs. Riley?”
The woman gave a sigh and looked up into Cat’s eyes. Every nerve in Cat’s body fought to keep from running away in shame. Summoning her strength, she steeled herself for a battery of verbal abuse.
“You are beautiful and very strong.” She smiled sadly. “I can see why Stuart fell in love with you.”
Thank you hardly seemed appropriate, so Cat said nothing.
“He will be coming in a couple of days to meet his child.” She glanced down at the baby. “His son.”
“Does he know you’re here?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Shaw carried the bags up the steps and stood. “Should I take dese into de house?”
“No.” The harshness in Cat’s tone resonated across the porch.
“Leave them on the porch.” Mrs. Stuart smiled. “Thank you for your kindness. Perhaps you will be good enough to be my escort to a hotel or a rooming house later?”
“If it look like it be necessary,” Shaw said, his reprimanding gaze on Cat.
She jerked her chin upward. “Thank you, Shaw. Please leave us alone now.”
A deep scowl marred his face. He turned to Mrs. Riley. “I be in de barn iffen ya be needin’ me, ma’am.” He tipped his hat to Stuart’s wife, then headed off. Traitor!
“I have a proposition for you, Catherina Penbrook.”
“I’m not interested in any proposition you might have to offer.”
“Then allow me to give you some information. My husband and I have drawn close once more as husband and wife.”
Laughter found its way to Cat’s throat. “Come, now, you don’t really expect me to believe that.”
“Regardless, it is the truth. God has a way of restoring even the most broken of lives, and that’s what He’s done for us.”
“God?” Cat began to tremble. “What’s He got to do with Stuart and me?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said bluntly. “He does, however, honor marriage, and He has everything to do with my husband returning to me, heart, soul, and body.”
“If what you say is true, why would Stuart be coming to take me back to Chicago with our son?”
“I’ll tell you. He intends to offer you the life you led before, only he will not live with you or become involved with you on any kind of romantic level. You will live in your house, with the child you bore him, and he will be free to visit any time. The child will have his name, and you will be well provided for. When your boy is old enough for school, he will be sent away so that he isn’t treated poorly for the sins of his parents. You and Stuart will visit him separately over the years so that no one questions whether or not yo
u are married to his father.”
The idea appealed to Cat more than Mrs. Riley could have imagined. Except for the thought of her son being sent away.
“That’s what Stuart has in mind?”
She nodded.
“But why would he send you before him?”
“As I’ve said, Stuart doesn’t know I’ve come.”
“Isn’t deceit a sin? Shame on you. And here you and Stuart are starting over with God’s blessing.” Sarcasm twisted her lips.
“Be that as it may, I’ve come to plead my case with you before you speak to my husband.”
“I’m listening.” Cat folded her arms and watched as Mrs. Riley held her son against her shoulder.
“Frankly, I’d like you to allow Stuart to bring the baby back alone.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Surely you can see how much better it would be for any child to be raised in a home with two parents who are married and in love?”
“Give me my son,” Cat said through clenched teeth. She yanked the baby away. The quick motion startled him and he let out a howl.
“Please, listen to reason. If Stuart brings you to Chicago, how long do you think it will be before he is in your bed again?”
“Ha! So that’s it. You’re afraid I’ll take him away from you.”
“Yes. Partly.”
Her honestly silenced any insults Cat might have thrown.
“Oh, Cat. I’ve seen you with my husband from time to time, you know.” She smiled. “You have never once had the glow of a woman in love. And you wouldn’t have stayed away so long if you loved him.”
“There are different kinds of love. I care for Stuart a great deal.”
“But not the way I do.”
Jealousy burned white hot. Maybe she didn’t love Stuart the way this woman did, but she had loved. Still loved. Shaw. Nevertheless, the woman’s soft words filled her with shame. And shame fueled her anger. “Why should I do as you ask? I could simply keep my son here at Penbrook. Tell everyone his father died.”
“Would you have your child live a lie? What if he eventually were to learn the truth? He’d never forgive you.”
The thought of doing the same thing to her second child she’d done to Henry Jr. caused panic to shoot up from her stomach and choke nearly all the air from her throat.
The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) Page 24