The Immortelles

by Gilbert, Morris

  They walked along the rows, and Yancy pointed out things that she had never noticed before: the quality of the cotton, the snowy fullness of the fields. She was silent but interested. She had been around cotton all her life, but never had she watched it grow into a crop, step by step, and she still was shocked at the tremendous amount of labor it had taken. “I never knew how hard it was just to raise cotton.”

  “It’s not a business for lazy men, but it’s a fine crop.”

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it? Do you think the price will hold up?”

  “I hear that it’s good. We’ll hope so.”

  Damita reached out and plucked a bowl, then pulled the white fibers apart. “Who would have thought that something so light could bear the weight of saving a family from ruin?”

  “We could lose it all, Damita.”

  Damita glanced up and saw that Yancy was staring at her in a peculiar fashion. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “That’s the way life is. Nothing’s certain in this world.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” she said quickly. “It can’t.”

  “I thought that about the ship I bought into, but it went down. We like to fix things so that they don’t change, but they do.” He resumed walking, and she joined him. “You remember the immortelles, those decorations that you put on graves?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s just an attempt to fix things. I don’t think those immortelles are really immortal. They’ll wear out someday, too. You’ve seen them, old and broken. We’re the only thing that’s immortal.”

  “You really believe that? You never talk about religion.”

  “But I think about it.”

  “I remember you told me one time you were afraid of some things, of growing old, of being alone, and you said you were afraid to face God.”

  “I’m still afraid of those things, but sometimes I think making peace with God is the easiest thing. Nothing we can do about growing old, but we can do something about God.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we can honor Him and love Him.”

  Damita was silent. She had never heard this sort of talk from Yancy before. She remembered the story about his mother and realized his faith had grown, though it was hard for her to understand what form it took.

  Then he said, “But there’s something else I’m afraid of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m afraid of missing out on what’s important in this life.”

  She stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “A woman is important to a man—and children are too.”

  She saw that he was waiting for her to speak. “Family is important,” she agreed quietly.

  “It’s important for a woman to find a man, too, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is.”

  Yancy stopped walking and took her hands in his. “You have nice hands,” he said. “Strong, smooth. Some women have ugly hands, but not you.” He paused. “Be sure, Damita, that you desire the man you choose. Forty years in bed with a man you don’t love would be a misery.”

  Damita pulled her hand back, her face reddening. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “All right, I won’t.”

  Damita did not know how to take his words. She felt angered that he would speak so inappropriately, and yet she was curious. “Why do you say a thing like that to me? It isn’t nice.”

  “Because I know that at one time you felt something for me.”

  “That wasn’t love,” she said quickly. “It was . . . it was just wickedness on my part. You knew it—you turned away from me, Yancy.”

  “I didn’t want to spoil things,” he said simply. “If I hadn’t felt something for you, I would have accepted your offer immediately.”

  Damita could not think how to answer him. He had put his finger on the thing that had troubled her for years. “Don’t confuse me, Yancy!” she cried. She turned quickly and walked away, leaving him to stand alone in the cotton field.

  The stalks blew lightly about him, and he watched her go. “You’re already confused, Damita Madariaga.”

  Chapter twenty-one

  Looking over the rim of his fine china cup, Elmo Debakky studied Charissa for a moment, then remarked, “It’s amazing how men can make fools of themselves, when they really set out to do the job.”

  Charissa and Debakky had lingered after breakfast, and now Charissa looked steadily at the physician. “I suppose you’re referring to Jeff.”

  “Yes. He and Depard are making fools of themselves, chasing after Damita. They’ve provided a mint of entertainment for the upper crust of New Orleans. People don’t go to the opera anymore; they just gather to watch those two circle around each other.” He sipped his coffee, then shook his head and said more soberly, “I hate to see Jeff chasing that woman.”

  “I’m just thankful he and Depard haven’t had another stupid duel.”

  “Maybe it’s just a matter of time. I don’t know what makes men behave like that.”

  “At least the cotton crop was good this year, so Damita’s safe from losing her plantation.”

  “That was good news, all right.” Debakky glanced out the window and shook his head. “What’s the date?”

  “December twenty-eighth.”

  “It seems as if 1835 just sped by.” He glanced at Charissa. She was wearing the simple gray dress that she always wore to work at the hospital. She seemed subdued. Debakky had learned long ago her secret, that she loved Jefferson Whitman, and had considered shaking Jeff to make him realize what he was missing. But he was not a man to interfere. Now he said, “I’ll tell you what we ought to do. The society of New Orleans is getting up a New Year’s Eve ball. The governor will be there, the mayor, and all the bigwigs. Why don’t you let me take you?”

  Charissa glanced up from her coffee and studied the doctor. He was not handsome in the least, but he was intensely masculine and one of the wittiest and smartest men she had ever known. “That would be nice, Elmo,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Elmo grinned at her. “Why don’t you fall in love with me, Charissa? It would make your life a lot simpler.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you could stop mooning around about Jeff. The man hasn’t got good sense. He can’t even see you.”

  “No, he can’t. He never could.”

  “Not your fault. He’s one of the best doctors I’ve ever seen. Too bad he’s not as smart about women as he is about medicine.” He saw that Charissa did not want to discuss it and said, “If you’d just fall in love with me and we got married, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

  “I’d have to worry about you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. Tell you what: Just give me a list of all the things you want in a husband.”

  Charissa laughed. Elmo always had the ability to lift her out of her mood. “And what would you do with such a list?”

  Elmo looked at her with mock surprise. “Why, I’d convince you of how you could get along without all those things.”

  Yancy poked the fire and watched the sparks fly in myriad, tiny fragments up the chimney. He kicked a large chunk of firewood with his boot, and Damita said, “One of these days, you’re going to catch yourself on fire. Take your foot out of there. You’ll ruin your boots.”

  Yancy put the poker down, turned, and backed up to the fire, soaking in the warmth. “I love fires. I love everything about them—cutting down the trees, splitting the wood.”

  “You don’t like carrying out the ashes all that much, I noticed.”

  Yancy grinned at her. “You’re right about that. But for every pleasure, there’s always a penalty to go with it.”

  “Is that some more of your deep philosophy, Yancy?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m going to write a book one day. I’ll call it Yancy Devereaux’s Guide to Perfect Living.”

  “That’ll solve a problem for a lot of people,” Damita said. She was sitting
in an overstuffed chair directly across from the fire, sewing. Her hands moved nimbly.

  Yancy asked, “What’s the nicest dress you have?”

  Surprised, Damita looked up. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tomorrow’s the fancy New Year’s Eve ball. I’ve decided we’re going.”

  Damita shook her head. “I told Jeff and Lewis I wouldn’t go.”

  “Don’t you want to go?”

  “To tell the truth, I’m a bit tired of their attentions.”

  “I thought a woman liked that sort of attention.”

  “Oh, Yancy, it’s foolish! I don’t care for either one of them—not for a husband, at least.”

  “We’re going to take in that ball. We’ve worked hard, and we deserve a break.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “I’m not asking, Damita,” Yancy said. “I’m telling you we’re going to do it. Don’t you remember? When I agreed to come here, you agreed to do everything I commanded.”

  Damita was so surprised she poked her finger with the needle. “Ow!” she said and stuck her finger in her mouth. “I didn’t promise to go to balls with you!”

  “Yes, you did. You said I could make every decision. My decision is that we need some foolishness.” He pulled up a chair opposite and faced her. “I haven’t mentioned it, but you’ve done a wonderful job of adjusting to this life.”

  Damita stared at him. “Why—thank you, Yancy.” She never expected compliments from this man who had suffered so in his own life.

  “I know it was hard for you. I was used to tough living, but you weren’t. And you’ve helped keep your mother from being miserable as well.”

  “You’re the one who’s had to do all the hard things.”

  “No, that’s not so. But let’s not argue about that.”

  Damita felt warmth at his praise. Only rarely did he offer it, although she often felt his eyes on her. “All right,” she said. “Do you really want to go to the ball?”

  “I think it would be fun. We’ll go late,” he said.

  “What in the world for? I always like to go early.”

  “Not me,” Yancy grinned. “I like to make a big entrance. Walk in about thirty minutes late, and people notice. You like that kind of attention yourself.”

  Damita made a face at him. “You say the most awful things!”

  “Put on your prettiest dress. We’ll show these New Orleans folks how it should be done. We’ll be the best-looking couple at the ball.”

  “I really would like to go,” Damita said, smiling, and her eyes were bright.

  “Good. Then it’s settled.”

  Charissa was enjoying the ball, which surprised her. Jeff had been gloomy enough, and she knew that Damita had refused to attend with him. He had finally decided to accompany Debakky and Charissa, and he had asked Charissa for a dance. She had been having a fine time, dancing mostly with Debakky, but she had also observed that Jeff and Lewis had met and simply stared at each other, bowing slightly. After their dance, she stood beside Jeff and saw that he was glaring at the young Creole.

  “How does it feel to have New Orleans laughing at you, Jefferson?”

  Jeff turned, astonished. “That’s an unkind remark.”

  Charissa was sick of Jeff ’s behavior. She had attended the dance for pleasure, and now the alienation between the two men annoyed her. “Jeff, you look absolutely foolish!”

  Jeff glared at her. “I haven’t been ungentlemanly.”

  “You two are chasing around after Damita like mindless dogs.”

  Jeff blinked with surprise and reddened slightly. He looked down at her. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

  “All right. I won’t.”

  After their tiff, Jeff tried several times to make conversation, but Charissa answered in monosyllables. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you let that young Matthew Denton bring you?”

  “You know we’re not seeing each other anymore. I asked him not to speak of marriage to me again. He’d be miserable with me.”

  “Don’t be foolish! Nobody would be miserable with you. You have everything that a man needs.”

  “But you don’t need me, do you, Jefferson?”

  “Why, of course, I do. You know better than that.” He hated to quarrel.

  Charissa heard a commotion and turned to the entrance of the ballroom. Jeff followed her glance and watched as Yancy and Damita entered. “She told me she didn’t want to come tonight!”

  “They make a fine-looking couple, don’t they?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Damita had spotted Jeff and knew that Depard also was there. “I wish I hadn’t come, Yancy,” she whispered. “Lewis and Jeff will work themselves up into some sort of a disagreement.”

  “No, they won’t. I have a plan.”

  Damita looked up at Yancy. “What kind of plan?”

  “A plan so that you won’t be bothered by Jeff or Lewis or any other fellow. You’ll dance only with me tonight. Come on.”

  He pulled her to the floor, and they began to swirl amongst the other dancers. Yancy noticed all the eyes upon them and was pleased. “Everybody’s here, and they’re all looking at us.”

  “You have no humility at all, do you?”

  Yancy tried to look hurt. “What do we have to be humble about? We’re a handsome couple. By the way, I didn’t tell you: You look beautiful tonight.”

  Damita smiled. “So do you. Yancy, how are you going to keep men from asking me to dance?”

  “I can’t keep them from asking,” Yancy said with a grin, and humor flashed in his eyes as he added, “I can stop them from dancing with you, though.”

  “Men are touchy—you know that, Yancy. Don’t forget that dueling is common around here.”

  “That’s not my problem.”

  Damita remembered how his first encounter with Lewis Depard had led to the threat of a duel with broadaxes. “Be careful,” she said. “Some of these men won’t take jokes lightly.”

  “I’m not responsible for their deficiency of humor. Now, let’s just enjoy the dance.”

  They swept around the floor, and as soon as the music came to an end and the couples applauded, a voice said, “I request the pleasure of the next dance, Miss Madariaga.”

  Damita and Yancy turned to see a tall man smiling at them.

  “Oh, hello, Anthony.”

  Anthony Rivera was a wealthy businessman Damita had known for a long time. He was a widower, now in his mid-thirties, and he was reputedly looking for Wife Number Two. She started to agree, as was customary, but Yancy said, “I’m sorry, sir, but that would not be possible.”

  Rivera bristled. “And why not, sir?”

  “Señora Madariaga asked me to chaperone her daughter. She made me absolutely responsible. I won’t allow the young lady to dance with anyone unless I approve of him.”

  Rivera sneered, “You’re a Kaintock, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. And I’m proud of it.”

  “And you don’t approve of me!” Rivera snapped. “May I ask why not?”

  “I don’t like your mustache,” Yancy said. The people around the three had fallen silent and were listening carefully. “I never trust a man who wears one. Sorry.”

  A murmur ran through the crowd, and Rivera said, “I’m afraid I must take exception to your remark, sir.”

  “That’s your privilege.”

  “I will have my man call on you.”

  “Not until after the last dance, if you don’t mind.”

  Rivera smiled coldly. “After the last dance it will be, then.”

  Debakky had made his way through the crowd and listened to all this. “That’s a dangerous fellow, Yancy.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to be my second, Doctor, if you don’t mind.”

  “I think this dueling business is foolish.”

  “It is, of course, but will you help me out?”

  “I suppose so,” Debakky said seriously. Then his tone lightened, �
�Perhaps I’ll dance with Miss Madariaga.”

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  “Why not?” He teased.

  “You’re a physician. I never trust that breed with women.”

  Debakky let out a belly laugh. The music started, and he found Charissa and repeated what had happened.

  “He’s going to have a duel with that man?”

  “I don’t think so. Yancy’s a clever fellow.”

  “He’s going to get himself in trouble. You know how touchy these Creoles are.”

  The music started, and Yancy put his hand out to Damita. She joined him in the dance and asked, “Have you lost your mind? What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Looking out for you, Damita. You can’t be too careful in a place like this. Why, some of these men probably have impure desires in their hearts.”

  Ordinarily, Damita would have smiled at this remark, but she was worried. “Anthony is a fine shot. He’s already killed one man in a duel and wounded several others.”

  “Don’t ever worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

  “I’m worried about what’s going to happen after the last dance. He’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Don’t think about that,” Yancy said cheerfully. The two finished that dance, and instantly, another gentleman asked for the next one. His eyes were fixed on Yancy, who looked him over and said, “I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t possibly let Miss Damita dance with a man who wears foppish attire such as yours.”

  Damita gasped, and the man’s face turned scarlet. “Very well then, sir. My man will call.”

  “Won’t be necessary. After the last dance, we’ll settle this business. Dr. Debakky will act for me.”

  “That will suit me exactly, sir.”

  Yancy winked at Damita and said, “Nothing like a little drama to enliven a dance, don’t you think?”

  Damita did not know what to think. She knew that Yancy’s antics had become known throughout the ball, so that after every dance several men came by, asking for the next one. Yancy refused them all, and in each case, the disappointed man challenged him. Yancy simply said to each, “See my man, Dr. Debakky, over there. He handles all my dueling business.”

  Yancy’s behavior became the talk of the crowd. Everyone’s eyes were on him and Damita, and Jeff exclaimed to Debakky, “He’s crazy! Why, he’s been challenged at least ten times!”