The Right Wife

by Beverly Barton

  “Isn’t that a coincidence,” he laughed, stepping away from her and facing the calmly rolling water a few yards away. “I have something wonderful to tell you.”

  “What?” Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as her mind wandered in a hundred different directions trying to imagine what he planned to tell her.

  “Last night, I made a trip to Tuscumbia.”

  Maggie’s heartbeat accelerated, the throbbing sound filling her head as her face burned with the terror seizing her soul. No! No! she cried inwardly, knowing what he was about to say, knowing he was on the verge of killing all of her new dreams.

  “I proposed marriage to Eunice and she accepted.”

  He wasn’t sure exactly what reaction he had expected from Maggie. Perhaps he had hoped to hurt her with his news as much as the knowledge that Thayer was her lover hurt him. Whatever he had expected, it hadn’t been the look of raw pain he saw on this woman’s face. She turned deathly white, her yellow eyes glazed with shock, her mouth open in a silent scream, her small hands trembling as they reached out for him.

  Her lips quivered as she tried to speak. “But . . . but . . . you love . . . me.”

  Aaron couldn’t bear to look at her, the agony etched on her features was suffocating him, but she forced his attention when she grabbed his big arms.

  “You made the decision for us when you gave yourself to Thayer.” He searched her face for the truth, and what he saw seared his heart like a branding iron.

  “I’ve never given myself to any man but you.” There were no tears in her eyes, only the clear undeniable glow of the truth.

  “My God!” he cried. “Why did the two of you let me think all the gossip was true?”

  “Thayer . . . Thayer thought jealousy would make you come to your senses and give up your plans to marry Eunice.” Maggie fell against his hard chest when he pulled her into his arms.

  “The fool.” Aaron was torn apart inside, not knowing what to say or do. He had to admit that, even though he had been planning to propose to Eunice before he ever met Maggie, the knowledge that this fiery redhead had given herself to his friend had prompted his hasty action last night.

  “If you had known the truth, would you have proposed to Eunice?” Maggie was clinging as fiercely to her last hope as she was to the man she loved.

  “No, I wouldn’t have proposed last night,” he admitted. “But, I . . . I’m not sure what I would have done eventually. Lately I’ve been questioning myself, my values, all the plans I’d made for my life.”

  “Is it too late? Is there no way you can take back the proposal?”

  “Don’t you see, Maggie. I’m not sure I’d want to take it back if I could.” He was trying to be honest with himself and with the woman he held in his arms. “I can’t deny that I still love you, more than ever.”

  She gasped, her eyes seeking his. They stood there, holding one another, looking into faces filled with love and longing.

  If he loved her, there was still hope, wasn’t there? He wasn’t married to the Widow Arnold yet. She couldn’t give up and run away. Not now. There was far more at stake than her own happiness, or even Jude’s future. As long as Aaron loved her, he would be miserable married to any other woman, especially a self-centered socialite like Eunice. Somehow she’d have to find a way to save Aaron from himself. But more important than all of them was the child growing inside her body. Aaron’s child, a child who deserved to have his father’s name.

  Chapter 16

  Maggie had fed Daisy her supper, coaxing her until she had eaten part of the delicious meal Auntie Gem had prepared. Now she and the old woman worked in silence as they washed and dried the dishes and utensils. They were both bone weary, exhaustion having claimed them. Maggie dried the last plate as Auntie Gem wiped out the cast-iron corn bread skillet and hung it on the wall above the stove.

  Maggie wanted the minutes to hurry. Aaron had gone to Tuscumbia to see Eunice and had promised to stop by on his way home.

  When he had left her today, he had still been uncertain about his life and the decisions he had to make. She had chosen not to complicate things by telling him about the baby. If he married her, she wanted it to be because he loved her and not because she was carrying his child.

  Judith was proving to be a problem. Maggie had serious doubts, as the girl grew older, that she would be able to control her. She had tried to talk to her sister, to explain that she had no intention of marrying Thayer, but the child had run from the room, refusing to listen. It worried her that Jude was so obsessed with Thayer. No good could come of such a thing.

  Knowing she could be of little use to Daisy if she had to spend half her time trying to manage her feisty sister, she had asked Aaron to send Moses over with a buggy to take the child to the Mobleys’. She had sent a brief note to Alice saying only what was necessary and asking her to look after Jude for a few days. It would be better for both sisters if they were apart until Maggie could work out her problems with Aaron.

  She could still see the bitterness in Jude’s eyes, and hear the anger in her voice when she threatened to prevent Maggie from marrying Thayer.

  “I’ll go see that Verda woman,” Judith had threatened. “She’ll know what I can do to stop you.”

  When Maggie had forbidden her sister from going anywhere near that whore, Jude had glared defiantly and said she’d do whatever she had to do.

  Maggie couldn’t understand why everything had gone so wrong. All she had ever wanted was what was best for her family. She’d promised Pa as he lay on his deathbed that she’d see Micah had a good profession and Jude would become a lady. What would Pa think of her now? He’d be disappointed by how miserably she had failed. Micah was on the river, doing God only knew what. In all the weeks he’d been gone, she hadn’t heard a word from him. And Jude! Dear Lord, was there any hope that a child so stubborn and full of temper could ever grow up to be a proper lady?

  The dreams for herself and her own future, the ones she’d put in the back of her mind, could never come true. A simple life with a good husband was no longer even a possibility. She was hopelessly in love with Aaron Stone and nothing could ever change that fact. By spring, she would give birth to his child, binding them forever as his own parents had been bound.

  She had never imagined it was possible to love someone the way she loved Aaron. He was in her thoughts and in her heart every minute of every day, his handsome features etched eternally in her mind. The sound of his voice touched her very soul, his nearness creating tingling sensations through every nerve in her body. When he was happy, she was happy. When he was sad, she was sad. His joy was her joy, his pain her own. She loved him in every way a woman could love a man, body, heart, and soul. She belonged to Aaron Stone, now and forever.

  She knew that giving herself to him without marriage was considered a sin, and she guessed it was, but how could something so wonderful be so wrong?

  She would always remember the first time she had looked up into his green eyes there at the railroad depot in Chattanooga. She realized now that no power on earth could have kept the two of them apart. Their love had been meant to be from the beginning. The thought of their first loving sent fissions of pleasure darting through her. She had relived that night over and over in her thoughts, the memory of the thunder and lightning, the hard earth beneath her, the big man above her like a sweet drug enticing her body to yearn for it again.

  She slowly licked her lips, recalling the feel of his mouth taking hers in a kiss of urgent longing. Maggie’s hands trembled as she placed the last dish in the cupboard. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the glass-paned cabinet door. She could not bear the thought of Aaron married to another woman.

  “Do you hear something, Miss Maggie?” Auntie Gem asked, cocking her scarf-covered head to one side.

  “I didn’t hear anything. What was it?”

  “I ain’t sure. Thought it sounded like horses.”

  “Maybe it was Phineas. He should be through c
hecking on the stock.” Maggie dried her hands on the faded cotton apron tied about her waist.

  “I don’t hear nothing now. Could’ve been Phineas.”

  Maggie opened the kitchen door, looking outside into the darkness of late evening, the sky alight with a thousand glowing stars. The nighttime breeze swirled around her, chilling her with its coolness. She could barely make out the tall figure of a man walking toward the porch, but his very size assured her that it was Phineas. He had stopped in the yard several feet away and seemed to be listening. She strained her ears to hear. The world was full of nocturnal sounds, primitive, but soothing. She could hear the soft sigh of the river flowing in the distance. Then she heard it. The sound of horses, horses and riders heading straight toward the house. She searched her mind for a reason. Who was it? Who could possibly be riding hard and fast in their direction? And it was more than one man. From the sound, it was half a dozen or more.

  Suddenly they appeared on horseback, eight ghostly apparitions surrounding Phineas, their white robes and hoods glistening like snow against dark, rich soil.

  My God! My God! Maggie thought. Who were they and what did they want? Instinctively she knew they meant trouble and that the fear gripping her throat was justified. She had heard tales about a group of men who yielded their own brand of justice to anyone who dared threaten the way of life they longed to perpetuate.

  She had to send for help. But Aaron wasn’t home. She’d send Auntie Gem to Moses. He could go for help.

  With the door wide open, she turned to the old woman at her side. “Go through the bedroom, crawl out the window, and get to White Orchard. Send Moses for Mr. Thayer. And tell him to hurry.”

  “Yes’am, Miss Maggie. I know what to tell him. Oh Lord, gal, you going to need help. Mr. Wesley, he’s one of them. I promise you that.”

  Not taking time to react to Auntie Gem’s information, Maggie hugged her and bid her farewell, then turned toward the porch in time to see three dismount and walk toward Phineas. She didn’t know whether to leave the door open or try to close it and chance drawing their attention to her.

  “Well, boy, I guess you know what we came for,” a dark, coarse voice laughed.

  “Y’all go on away from here,” Phineas said, his big body standing tall and ready to fight. “I don’t want no trouble.”

  A rotund, robed form stepped toward him. “You forget your place, nigger. You and that blue-eyed slut you married are going to pay. First, you’ll pay for your arrogance, and then your woman will pay for her sins. And then,” he bellowed, raising a meaty fist into the air, one fat finger pointing to the porch.

  Maggie’s heart lodged in her throat. That madman was pointing directly at her, and she recognized his voice. It was Wesley Peterson.

  “Maggie Campbell is a sinner. She has lain with a man who is not her husband and refused to repent. And now, the evil seed of her shameful deed is growing in her body. But we shall do the Lord’s work. Tonight, she too will die.”

  Reacting strictly from fear, Maggie slammed the door shut, her sweat-soaked body trembling as she slumped to the floor, praying silently for God to send help soon.

  Daisy stood in the bedroom doorway. She gazed down at her friend who was hovering on her knees, her face buried in her shaking hands.

  “Miss Maggie, what is it? What’s going on?”

  Maggie raised her terror-filled eyes, seeing the young woman standing there in her cotton nightgown. “Oh, dear Lord.”

  “Miss Maggie?”

  “It’s Wesley and a bunch of hooded men. They’ve got Phineas surrounded. They say they’re going to kill us all.”

  “No . . . no . . .”

  Maggie, slow moving, reached out and grabbed the black woman by the shoulders. “Does Phineas have a gun here in the house?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Daisy’s pale blue eyes flickered about the room as if she thought a weapon would miraculously appear.

  “Think,” Maggie beseeched, holding tightly to the woman’s shoulders, shaking her gently. “We’ve got to do something. We can’t stand here and let them kill us.”

  “There’s a rifle.” Daisy’s face lifted, her eyes brightened with hope. “Oh, no. I think it’s still in the barn. Phineas shot some rabbits a few days back, and he skinned them out by the barn. I don’t remember him bringing the gun back in the house.”

  “You check your bedroom. I’ll look in the other room. Then we’ll go through the kitchen together. We’ve got to find something. It might be our only hope.”

  “Where’s Auntie Gem? Have they got her?”

  “No! I sent her to White Orchard for help. Now stop talking and go look.”

  Within minutes, the two women had searched the entire house and come up empty-handed except for a broom and a couple of butcher knives.

  “I won’t let them kill me without a fight,” Maggie said, clutching one big knife in her hand.

  “You stay here, Miss Maggie,” Daisy said. “I’m going out there. If I can’t stop them from killing Phineas, then I’ll die with him.”

  “No!” Maggie screeched. “Wait. Let’s look out the window first and see what’s going on.”

  There was no way she and Daisy could save Phineas, and unless help arrived in time, they too would die tonight. If they could stay in the house and hold the hooded maniacs off until Thayer came, they might have a chance.

  The two women stood at the window looking outside. Suddenly, as if her brain had just begun to function, Maggie turned back quickly and extinguished the lamp.

  “Miss Maggie, I’ve got to go to him. They’re tying him to a tree.”

  Maggie didn’t know what to do. Daisy was so weak she could barely stand, but she was determined to go to her husband. If it were Aaron out there, she would do the same.

  She looked back out the window, seeing Phineas’s huge body strapped to a tree, his shirt ripped apart and his bare back exposed to the night air and to the sting of a whip held securely in one white-robed man’s hand. Six of the men were standing nearby, one holding a torch that burned high and bright into the black sky. She realized that it had taken five of them to subdue their captive. She could hear Wesley’s voice shouting words of sin and salvation as another hand slashed the corded leather into the large man’s back. Phineas jerked once, but made no sound. Maggie felt nauseous and faint.

  How could a man profess to be a servant of God, stand before a congregation of devout Christians, preaching a sermon that would bring tears to the eye, and actually be a monster filled with such evil? She had already realized that her uncle’s stepson was insane, but never had she imagined the extent of his lunacy. This man, who had claimed to love her, who had proposed marriage together, was going to kill her. Because she had made love with Aaron? Because she carried Aaron’s child? But how did he know that she was going to have a child? She had told no one except Thayer, and he would never have told anyone, least of all Wesley Peterson. Jude had known. Surely her sister had not gone to this madman. But Jude didn’t know what kind of a man their cousin really was. Had she gone to him and told him about Maggie, hoping that Wesley would marry her? What other explanation could there be?

  While Maggie was deep in thought, Daisy opened the door and staggered onto the porch, her slender hands clutching the doorframe. Maggie dropped the knife and reached out for her, but before she could obtain a good hold, the young woman pulled away, walking unsteadily onto the porch. Maggie followed, grabbing her determined friend.

  “Please, Daisy, come back inside. I don’t think they’ve seen us.” Just as she spoke, the whip sang its torturous song.

  “No!” Daisy screamed, trying to free herself from Maggie’s tenacious hold.

  The rotund hooded man turned toward the porch, his fat finger pointing in their direction. “Behold the temptations of the devil. Whores put on earth by the evil one to drive men to madness.”

  Maggie held the other woman’s struggling body as she closed her eyes and prayed.

  She could he
ar an approaching carriage. It was too soon to be Thayer. There hadn’t been enough time for Moses to get all the way to Silver Hill and return with help. She scanned the small dirt road leading to the house as the vehicle approached, instantly recognizing Aaron’s cabriolet. Instinctively, relief rushed through her. Aaron would help them; he’d take care of her. But Aaron had no way of knowing what was happening here. He would ride into this nightmare totally unprepared. Would he have a gun on him or in the carriage? What if Moses had driven him to town and Auntie Gem was still searching for help? Surely by now she had roused some of Aaron’s workers.

  As she had feared, Maggie saw that the robed assassins had heard and seen Aaron arrive, and two of them were approaching his carriage. Using his buggy whip, Aaron lashed out at his welcome party, but before he could subdue them, Wesley ordered Phineas’s beating stopped and commanded that all their attention focus on capturing the big man who was fighting off his attackers. It took three men to drag Aaron from the buggy, the frightened horses galloping away with the cabriolet as soon as Aaron hit the ground.

  Maggie flinched when she saw a booted foot thrust into Aaron’s midsection. She cried out, her body starting toward the big blond lying in the dirt. She momentarily loosened her hold on Daisy as she stepped forward, but it was long enough for the Negress to pull free and with unbelievable speed, rush down the steps and out into the yard.

  “No, Daisy, don’t!” Maggie screamed, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

  All eyes focused on the blue-eyed quadroon as she walked past the astonished robed men, and went directly to her husband. Her small hand hovered over his lacerated back. When she touched him, he groaned.

  While everyone was watching Daisy, Aaron pulled himself to his feet, his eyes searching and finding Maggie. In that one look was a world of promise. Somehow she knew that if there were any way possible, he would save them.

  Aaron spit on the ground, trying to cleanse his mouth of the taste of dry dust. “Rube Whitcomb!” he shouted, and the tall man still holding the bloody whip turned to face his accuser. “Your identity is no secret to me, and your appearance here is no surprise. Everyone knows that you’re a murdering black-hearted thief with a whore for a daughter.”