From that moment Rena was never far from Frankie’s side. She was starved for the company of young people, being the “baby” at Gracefield, and Frankie was not “grown-up” in her ways. The young girl determined to stay overnight to be sure she didn’t miss any of the excitement. Though several overnight guests were coming to stay for the ball, and the house would be crowded, Rena managed to get a small attic room for herself and Frankie.
Frankie enjoyed the girl. She had not been around young people since leaving her sisters, and somehow there was a vulnerable quality in Rena that gave Frankie a protective feeling. She took Rena riding across the fields and rabbit hunting in the woods. Once Frankie said to Paul, “Rena seems lonesome, Mr. Bristol. I know I’m taking up too much time with her—”
“Don’t worry about that, Frankie,” Paul broke in reassuringly. “Spend all the time with her you can.” He hesitated, then added, “She’s in a pretty bad spot. I guess you know the story of her parents?”
“A little. Rena never mentions her mother, but she talks about her father all the time. She’s lost since he joined the army.”
“Clay doesn’t really believe in the Cause any more than I do. I think he believes in his family. And he knows that no matter how the war comes out, he’s got to throw himself into the thing to keep his family unified.”
They were sitting on a pair of boxes in the laboratory, and as they got up and started for the house, Bristol said, “By the way, Miss Luci said she wanted to get to know you better. I think that would be a good idea.”
Frankie glanced at him quickly. Luci had made several overtures to her, but somehow she’d not been able to respond. There was something about her that Frankie just didn’t trust. “She’s—been very nice,” she said quickly. “I guess we’re so different, I feel ugly and awkward around her.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way,” Paul insisted. “Why, you’re graceful as a deer!” Frankie looked at him in surprise, and their eyes met and locked for a moment. A sudden warmth filled Paul as he looked into those green eyes—a warmth that shook him deeply. With an impatient gesture, he turned away. “Luci wants to help you, so give her a chance, all right?” he said brusquely.
“If you say so, Mr. Bristol,” Frankie said tonelessly.
Paul whirled to face her, started to say something, then turned again and stalked out of the barn. Frankie watched him go, confused and hurt by his abrupt behavior—and disturbed by the look she had seen, for just a fraction of a second, in his dark eyes.
Later that afternoon, Luci came to Frankie, who was teaching Rena how to make a horsehair rope. “What are you two up to?” she asked. When Frankie confessed what they were making, Luci laughed. “My stars! What a thing to do!”
“It’s fun, Luci,” Rena said quickly. “They’re lots more flexible than the other kind.”
“I’m sure they are, dear,” Luci said dryly. “But what about the ball tomorrow? I’ll bet neither one of you has given a thought to what you’re going to wear.”
“I’m not sure Papa will let me come,” Rena said.
“Nonsense! He will if you ask him properly. When I was younger than you, I could get anything I wanted out of my father!”
“How’d you do it?” Rena asked curiously.
“Oh, I’d sit on his lap and stroke his hair and tell him how handsome he was.” Luci smiled placidly. “Men aren’t hard to handle if you know the right things to say and do.”
Rena grimaced. “I don’t think that would work on my father. What I do is just ask him, and he either says yes or no.”
“Well, you let me talk to him, honey,” Luci said easily. “And I’ll bet we can find you a dress that’ll be just right.” She turned to Frankie. “And what about you, Miss Frankie? What sort of dress will you be wearing?”
Frankie sensed that the girl was well aware that she had no dress but said at once, “I don’t own a dress, but that doesn’t matter because I’m not going to the ball.”
“Oh dear, that is too bad!” Luci shook her head. “Didn’t Paul ask you to go? He told me he thought you ought to attend.”
Frankie looked at the woman, startled. “He said that?”
“Oh yes. I think he’d be very disappointed if you didn’t come. Of course, as he said, he can’t force you to come, even if you are his employee.…”
Frankie was caught off guard. “I—I’d want to do whatever Mr. Bristol wanted.”
Luci watched her with interest, noting the flush that was tinting Frankie’s smooth cheeks. She forced herself to smile. “Of course, I knew you’d agree when the matter was presented to you in the right way. Now about a dress—let me see.…” She looked carefully at Frankie, then nodded. “I think I have one that will look just fine on you. About the shoes, we may have to see. My foot is so small, you see? Well, we’ll worry about that after we get the dress fitted. Now I think I’d better take you and Rena to Richmond with me. I’ve still got a few things to pick up. We’ll get one of the slaves to drive us in—”
“Oh, I can drive us,” Frankie offered. “You want to go today?”
“Yes, we’d better. Come along, then, and I’ll talk to Rena’s father and get a buggy to go in.”
When they entered the house, Luci led the way into the parlor, where they found the master and mistress of Hartsworth with Rena’s parents, Clay and Ellen Rocklin, who had just arrived. When Frankie was introduced, she was shocked by the resemblance that Clay bore to his cousin Gideon. He was taller and thinner, and much better looking, but the Rocklin lines were clearly evident. Looking at Clay, Frankie could well believe he was the handsomest of all the Rocklins. He stood up to greet her and, at six feet two inches, looked lean and fit. He had olive skin, raven hair, and piercing black eyes. His features were classic: straight nose, wide mouth, deep-set eyes under black brows, and a cleft in his determined chin.
“So you are the young woman who saved young Tyler’s life?” he remarked at once, smiling down on Frankie. “I received a long letter from my cousin Gideon and his wife, Melanie. Gid warned if I didn’t treat you right that he would come to Virginia himself and give me a thrashing.”
“Oh,” Frankie exclaimed, embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “I didn’t do all that much for Tyler, Mr. Rocklin!”
“That’s not what the boy’s mother said,” Clay contradicted. “According to Melanie’s version, you not only saved Tyler’s life, but her life, as well.”
“Odd that Melanie didn’t write and tell me about all this,” a cold, cynical voice broke in. Frankie turned to face the woman standing there, who gave her a rather condescending smile. “Since no one is going to introduce us, I’ll do the honors myself, Miss Aimes. I am Ellen Rocklin.”
“I’m sorry, Ellen,” Clay said evenly. “I was so pleased to meet Tyler’s nurse that I forgot my manners.”
“I’m sure your old friend told you everything.” Ellen Rocklin had a strong face, one that had been attractive but now was heavily lined, showing signs of her less-than-respectable lifestyle. She had been one of those women—lush and full-bodied—whom men are drawn to. Now she had become somewhat overweight. She was wearing a dress that would have fit her well when she weighed less, but which only served now to make her look like a sausage in a tight skin. Her eyes were sharp and predatory; her lips sensuous and a little cruel, and painted with too much rouge.
Frankie had heard about Ellen Rocklin, and looking at the face of the woman, she now believed that much, if not all, of it was true. Still, she smiled and said, “I’m glad to know you both. Major Rocklin thinks so much of you. Of all the family, as a matter of fact.”
“Major Rocklin will shoot my husband dead if he comes on him in battle,” Ellen said and seemed to savor the thought. “That’s how much that Yankee thinks of us!”
“Well, Ellen, I guess we don’t need to talk about the war,” Clay said quickly. “What about that ball? You have a dress picked out, Rena?”
Luci laughed at the expression on Rena’s face. “See? I
told you your father would want to show you off! Now you get some money from him, and I’ll take you and Miss Aimes to town right now.”
“A sergeant in the Confederate Army makes sixteen dollars a month,” Clay said with a grin. “Can you get a dress for that?” But he pulled some money from his pocket, handed it to Rena, and said, “Get a pretty one, now.”
“I will, Father!” Rena promised, hugging him, a look of pure joy on her face.
“Can I get you anything from Richmond, Mrs. Rocklin?” Luci asked politely.
“Me? What in the world could I possibly need? Nobody is going to pay any attention to an old woman at a ball!”
The harshness of her words silenced the group for a moment. Then Clay looked at Luci and smiled wearily. “Thank you for your offer, Luci. But you three had better get going to town before it gets much later.” Luci gladly led the young women off at once.
“Come to my room, Clay,” Ellen snapped. She said no more, letting Clay make the proper remarks. But as soon as he had reached the room, she turned on him, saying, “You love it, don’t you? Getting letters from your precious Melanie!”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Ellen,” Clay said wearily. “I’ve only got a few days’ leave. Let’s not spoil it by—”
“And maybe you think I don’t know how you sneaked around and went to see your white-trash girlfriend yesterday?” Ellen’s fury rolled over her face. “Make you proud of yourself, Clay Rocklin? Leaving your lawful wife to go be with that hussy?”
Clay stood there as her curses and vile flow of language rolled over him. He had learned that there was no reasoning with Ellen. Time only seemed to have sharpened her tongue, and she lashed him now with all the poison of her tormented mind.
She’s not responsible, Clay kept reminding himself as she raved on and on. She’s a sick woman, in mind and spirit. She needs kindness, not anger and bitterness.
Finally Ellen screamed, “Go on! Get out! Go to her, that whey-faced Melora! Oh God, if I had a gun, I’d kill her! And you, too, Clay!”
He left the room, aware that though he had faced bullets in battle, none of them had made his hands tremble and his knees grow weak as this scene had. He left the house, going like a sickened animal into the deep woods to seek healing. Only by prayer could he survive the virulent attacks that Ellen threw at him. He knew that if it had not been for God’s grace, he would have lost the battle and fled Ellen long ago. But he had run away from his responsibilities once before, deserting his family, and had paid dearly for it. Now he knew, as he cried out to God for patience and wisdom, that he would never do it again, not even if Ellen crucified him!
“Luci is nice, isn’t she, Frankie?” Rena’s young voice was filled with admiration. The two girls were sharing an ancient cherrywood bed in the attic, and they were both tired after a long day. Luci had dragged them into every store in Richmond, or so it had seemed to Frankie.
“Yes, she sure is,” Frankie answered, keeping her voice level. She had been filled with doubts about the ball from the first and now was even more frightened at the thought of going. “I wish I didn’t have to go to that old party!”
“Not go!” Rena was aghast. “But why not?”
After a moment’s pause, Frankie began to tell Rena about her background. She knew the girl had been wondering about her, and she wanted her to understand. Finally she said, “I’m just not good at things like that—things like dancing and flirting. I’m good at hunting and shooting and farming.”
Rena had indeed been puzzled by Frankie but had said nothing. Now that the older girl had brought the matter up, she felt it was all right to ask, “Frankie, aren’t you ever going to get married?”
“No.”
“But—what else is there for a woman?” Rena asked.
“Well, what is a woman, anyway?” Frankie’s voice was low, but Rena caught the tone: anger and bewilderment. Old memories surged over Frankie—and old fears. “I just want to be myself, that’s all! Why do I need anyone else, man or woman?”
Rena was silent, feeling very sorry for the older girl. She had not had a happy childhood and had seen firsthand the tragedy of a marriage where there was no love. For as long as Rena could remember, her mother had been careless, paying little heed to her children. And Rena had learned that her mother had been bad, too, though she never mentioned it to a soul. Then when her father had returned after abandoning them all, the girl had longed to see a real marriage between her parents, to have what other children had: a father and a mother who loved each other.
But that had not happened. At first Rena had blamed her father. She’d hated him for leaving them…for leaving her when she was only a baby. But in the short time since he’d returned, she had learned to love him as she did few others. And she knew her father would have made things right with her mother if he could have, if her mother would let him. Rena sighed. If anyone should lose faith in love, it was she…but she was still convinced, despite the failures she’d grown up with, that there was love in the world.
“A woman needs a husband, Frankie,” she whispered. “And a man needs a wife. That’s the way the Bible says it ought to be.”
Frankie could not argue with Rena, but neither could she erase the images of Davey laughing at her and Alvin Buck leering at her. She forced her fears deep down and said, “I know, Rena. I’m just scared of making a fool of myself at the ball. Don’t pay any attention to me. Now you’re going to look beautiful in that dress of yours!”
The next day was a torment for Frankie. All day long the carriages rolled up to the front door of the house and guests disembarked from them, disappearing into the house. The sounds of music began early, and it was Paul who came to find her still in the laboratory. He was dressed in a fine black suit with a ruffled white shirt and looked totally handsome, but there was a worried frown on his face as he said with agitation, “Frankie, you’ve got to get ready! Luci’s looked everywhere for you!”
Frankie swallowed and said, “Mr. Bristol, I—I don’t want to go.”
“Not go? Of course you’re going, Frankie!” Bristol had convinced himself that for her own good, the young woman had to be made to act like a lady. Now he smiled and tried to ease her fears. “You’ll have a fine time. Come along; I’m looking forward to having a dance with you.”
Frankie was paralyzed at the thought but allowed him to lead her to the house. “Now you go to the side entrance. Luci’s waiting for you, to help you with your hair and dress. Go on, now!”
Frankie moved obediently and, when she got to Luci’s room, was at once pounced on. “Where have you been?” Luci scolded her. “We only have twenty minutes. Now get those awful clothes off!”
Frankie undressed, her mind blank with terror. She put on the undergarments Luci had laid out, then stood like a statue while Luci pulled first the petticoats over her head, then the dress. “Now sit down and let me fix your hair,” she ordered.
Twenty minutes later, Luci stepped back, cocked her head, and said, “All right, you look fine. Now for some makeup.”
“Oh, I don’t want—” But Frankie’s protests were overwhelmed by Luci’s firm voice.
“Of course you do!” she said with a smile that somehow didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You want to look your very best for Mr. Bristol…and the others, don’t you?”
Frankie sat there, confused, and Luci took the opportunity to attend to business—all the while noting with irritation how just the mention of pleasing Paul Bristol could sway the girl.
Finally Luci stepped back, a satisfied expression on her face. “Now I’m going to finish dressing. You’d better wait here, Frankie. Let me go down first, and when you hear the musicians playing ‘Dixie,’ you come right down, all right?”
Frankie frowned, but Luci didn’t even give her a chance to object. “All right,” she finally said to Luci’s back as she left the room.
Luci examined herself in the mirror, a smile of pure satisfaction crossing her face. Her dress was a stunning pink that compl
emented both her coloring and her figure. “Let’s see you resist this, Mr. Bristol,” she said with a low chuckle and then went downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she was met by Paul.
“You look beautiful, Luci!” he said, his eyes bright with admiration.
“Do you really think so?” Luci said, a well-practiced note of uncertainty in her voice. “I’m glad, Paul. I want to be beautiful for you!”
Her hand on his arm, they entered the room, moving around and stopping to speak to their friends. Whenever they paused beside someone, Luci would pull one of the young women aside, careful not to catch Paul’s attention as she did so and whisper in the girl’s ear. The reaction was almost universal: an exclamation something like, “Not really, Luci!” and then a giggle of delight. With that, the girl would move on to do her own whispering.
Finally, after twenty minutes, Paul looked around the room. “Where’s Frankie? I’ve been looking for her.”
“Oh, she insisted on doing her own dressing and makeup,” Luci said with a note of regret in her voice. “I’m sure she’ll be down when she’s ready. Now come dance with me.”
Across the room Clay and Ellen were watching the dancing couples. Ellen was wearing a new dress, which was pretty but much too youthful for her. She commented on the dancers acidly, bitterness dripping from her words. Finally Clay got relief by saying, “Look, there’s Rena!” He rose from his chair and went to meet his daughter.
“Look at you!” he said with pride in his fine eyes. “Not a baby anymore, but a beautiful young woman!”
Rena was wearing a lovely blue taffeta dress that was trimmed with white. Her hair was arranged in beautiful curls, with little wisps dancing around her face, and her eyes were like stars as she said, “Oh, Daddy! I feel so—so—!”
“And you look the same way,” Clay laughed. “Come on! Let’s see if those expensive dancing lessons I paid for were worth it.”
Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga) Page 19