We rode through the forest and didn’t stop until we reached the tree line near my parents’ manor. Pulling Essiyetv to a halt, he jumped off, drew me down into his arms, and wrapped them tightly around me as both of our bodies began to shake. My ankle and knee throbbed with pain, but nothing mattered except his warmth.
He finally whispered, “When I heard those gunshots, I thought I’d lost you.”
Chapter 21
“Mama, I don’t care. I don’t want to see him.”
“Thomas will be here in just a moment and you are not even dressed.” Mama shouted, pacing in anger as Maggie finished the last of the buttons on my dress. Her short, loud footsteps pounded the hardwood floor of my bedroom behind me.
“I said, I don’t want to see him.”
“Why are you so determined to make the mistake of letting that man walk out of your life and this family?”
“Shall I bestow the reasons again, Mama? Perhaps with your obvious lack of memory, you’ve forgotten seeing your beaten and bruised daughter walk through the door a few days ago.”
Maggie gasped and then covered her mouth quickly.
“Get out of this room before I sell you to another family,” Mama growled at Maggie, who ran from the room. Heaven forbid, Mama should witness another woman’s sympathetic shock over her daughter’s pain, especially when the act was beyond her means. With a hint of speculation in her eyes, Mama noticed Maggie’s noticeably growing belly, and my stomach flipped.
“I suppose I self-inflicted my bruises then?” I shouted, hoping to distract Mama from her thoughts, and to keep her from not only figuring out Maggie’s condition, but who fathered her child.
“I will not consider the accusations you’ve claimed against such a fine, young gentleman as Thomas. Your absurd, attention-seeking ideas that run through your mind are simply astounding.”
In one, eye-opening moment, she answered any question ever asked about her love for me. Just as I believed my whole life, the problem in her eyes lay with me. In Mama’s opinion, she was plagued with a difficult child, not a respected, honest, loving daughter. She bore that burden until she figured out she could use me to her benefit. How much money had I brought to her greedy hands? How many of the fine, jeweled necklaces and elegant dresses she had purchased lately had been from the sale of her daughter?
“How dare you accuse me of lying and manipulating the truth, simply because I’ve refused to follow your heart-set plan?”
“Watch your tongue, young lady. Do not ever speak to me in such a disrespectful manner again. The only thing I have ever wanted for you is happiness. Thomas is a fine young man, and highly regarded in this town.”
“I don’t love him, and I don’t want to marry him.”
“Do you believe I loved your father in the beginning? You will learn to love him in time, just as I did with your father.”
“I don’t desire some loveless commitment created for the sole purpose of gaining material belongings, money, or social status. I want to be in love, real love, ridiculously consuming love, desiring to spend every day I have on this earth with my husband.”
“You are a foolish, young, naive girl. Love, as you describe, doesn’t exist. You will never find it, and you will ruin this family while searching for it.”
“You are wrong. Just because you did not find it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
The clip-clop of horse hooves echoed from outside my window, and Thomas’s carriage halted in the courtyard. Within minutes, his voice called from the foyer, the echo of the suffocating yoke meant for my destiny. Such a dreaded life with him it would be, full of misery and pain, mirroring the marriage of my parent’s with their social arrogance. However, while both my parents enjoyed their existence, mine would be a prison with imaginary chains.
“Your father and I have dinner plans with Mr. and Mrs. Grant. We are leaving in a few moments and I expect you to be a good hostess in our absence.” She marched from my bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
After all these years, the truth behind Mama’s perfect mask, and exactly how empty her life had been, was uncovered.
She had money and a husband who provided her with an amazing home. Everything she desired, she possessed. She was the envy of every woman she knew. She hosted lavish parties, wore the finest jewels and clothing, and adorned her grand manor with the finest furniture.
However, she didn’t have love, nor did she believe it existed. For the first time in my life, I actually pitied her.
A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts. Before I could respond, Thomas entered the room.
“Belatedness is not ladylike,” he said, closing the door as silently as he could.
“And, you shouldn’t be in my bedroom,” I snapped.
“I am a patient man, Alexandra, but I am tiring of your deportment.”
“Perhaps, then, you should find a young lady who better suits you. Or perhaps, you should simply marry the one who already does.”
“Enough,” he shouted.
For a brief second, the girl inside me wanted to roll her eyes and retort another witty comment to drive him further away, but I quickly rethought my idea. Thomas sat on my bed, grabbed a pillow, and smoothed the material with the palms of his hands. The oddness of his movement and expression caused a lump in my throat.
“Don’t you wish to retire to the parlor? I know your feelings regarding propriety, and it’s not proper for you to be in my bedroom.”
He continued to smooth the material on the pillow, ignoring my question and subtle insult for a few moments. “Did you hear the news regarding Peter O’Brien?” he asked.
I cleared my throat and inhaled a deep, self-protecting breath. Out of numerous topics that one could introduce into a conversation, he chose the one that not only horrified me the most, but confused me as well. Why was he talking about Peter?
“No, I haven’t,” I said, as confidently as I could muster.
“Apparently, over the last few years he has been stealing slaves and running them north to Tennessee. I caught him the other night attempting to steal a few of my father’s slaves and he is now in jail, awaiting his trial.” He paused for a moment and glared at me like he expected a reaction. “His behavior is a disgrace to patriotism, Alexandra,” he continued.
“Not if you live in the north, or believe such is not the case,” I said.
“I am not shocked that you would defend his actions,” he said. “Did you know he had a partner? Peter, of course, refuses to confess the man’s identity. Although, I suppose I cannot, with certainty, say his partner is a man.” His snake eyes glistened and the smile on his face made me uncomfortable. Did he know? And, if he did, how did he find out?
“Are you suggesting a woman would be capable of stealing slaves?” I laughed, trying to cover up any fear that may be noticeable.
“Considering there are only men and women on the earth, Alexandra, I believe I am.”
Panic began to bubble in my chest. The look on his face was as pure as if he had spoken the words: I know you are Peter’s partner.
In an instant, my head became fuzzy.
Dear Lord, please let this not be true.
“I don’t know a single woman in this town who would be capable of such treason, Thomas.”
“Perhaps she does not live in town. Perhaps she lives in the Muscogee village on the outside of town. It is well known that those Indians have no regard for the law.”
My stomach twisted. Did he know more of my secrets besides smuggling slaves with Peter? Did he know about William and me?
“Of course, Mr. Graysden would be a fool to allow such behavior. His business would suffer if word spread of his involvement,” he continued. “But, perhaps he is not involved, or does not know of such matters. The woman could be his wife or perhap
s even a woman who is involved with his son, William.”
No, this cannot be happening.
I fought the instinct to run from the bedroom. With my knees locked, the room began to spin. My vision blurred and the walls closed in around me.
“Are you feeling well, Alexandra? You look quite pale.”
“Yes, I’m feeling perfectly well,” I said, turning and facing the window, extinguishing my anxiety and pander to Thomas’s wicked smile although the panic consumed.
He marched to me and yanked me around to face him, his grip on my elbow unyieldingly tight.
“Thomas, let go of my arm,” I demanded. “You are hurting me.”
“Silence,” he shouted.
I bit my tongue and we stood staring at each other for a few seconds before he let go of my arm and began to pace. Had he lost his thoughts, or perhaps wanted to scare me with dramatic flair?
“Did you know I am an avid reader?” he finally said. “I did not think you knew, since you know very little about me. But I am. I have a passion for sitting down and reading a well-written and interesting book. Because it is my passion, I have an extensive collection that I add to whenever I get the opportunity. Most of the books were passed down to me by my Grandfather, but I have been fortunate enough to acquire a few very fascinating books through the generosity of my friends. Like this afternoon for instance when a certain someone bestowed me with a rather interesting tale. Admittedly, the story is not the type of story I usually read, but it nonetheless captivated my attention from the very first word.”
The calmness in his voice scared me more. He was too calm, like the dreaded calm before the storm. Only the paralyzing anger in his eyes told me not to dread just a storm, but to dread a catastrophic upheaval.
“I have heard you are interested in reading too,” he continued. “But, the more I get to know you, the more I am inclined to say you are more interested in writing.”
He wretched a book from his pocket and threw it at my feet. The familiar brown leather book tied together with a satin blue ribbon hit the floor with a loud thud. My journal lay in front of me, the journal I had written in for the last several months, the journal that held all of my secrets with Peter, and with William.
“Do you recognize this fascinating book?” he asked, his condescending tone mirrored the way he stood with his arms crossed.
“I don’t—”
Thomas slapped my face hard. “Don’t you dare lie to me,” he growled through his teeth. “When I caught Peter outside of my house, you were the person helping him. You were the coward who wouldn’t face me when I demanded it, and it was you, who I chased through the forest. I could have shot you.”
I pressed my cold hand against my burning cheek. “Why does that seem to bother you? You don’t love me, Thomas. You love Emily, so why—”
“And apparently you love someone else too. Someone that dear ole’ Daddy would not be too happy with. Of course, I was not too happy with the news, either,” he said. Tapping his fingers against his lips, an ice cold smile spread across his face. “Now what do I think we should do about this pesky little problem?”
“You leave William alone,” I demanded.
“You are in no position to make such a demand.”
“It wasn’t a demand, it was a threat. You leave William alone or so help me I will—”
He punched the side of my face and the blow shot pain through my right eye. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he shoved me to the floor and slammed my head into the wood. Kicking for my life, the heel of my shoe finally caught the inside of his knee, and he released me. I rose to face him and as he straightened up, I punched him in the nose and again below his right eye. My hand throbbed with pain, but I didn’t care. He lunged at me again and I kicked him in the groin. He fell to the floor with a thud, howling in pain, and cursing at me.
“You’ll never touch me again,” I screamed at him.
I ran to the courtyard as fast as I could, stole his carriage, and headed toward the village. I had to warn William and his family.
They were no longer safe, and neither were William and I.
Chapter 22
Through the trees, the night sky over the village glowed orange from the bon fire. My heart raced, beating as fast as the wheels of the carriage spun down the dirt road. Sickness churned in my stomach with the terrible sins and horrific truth I faced. Nevertheless, I had no other choice. William must know what had happened today.
Driving the carriage down into the plaza, the music and laughter silenced. Clan members surrounded me and gawked through the dust cloud from the carriage. I stepped down, excused myself and weaved through the crowd, too embarrassed to look any of them in the eye, even though they deserved that from me.
“What are you doing here?” Katy asked, grabbing my hair as I passed her. She clawed at my arms, trying to keep me from walking away from her.
“Let go of me,” I demanded, grabbing her arm and squeezing it until she released me. Her look of loathing cursed me as she shook the pain from her arm.
Telling her my arrival was none of her concern would be a lie. She had every right to not only question, but to be concerned over my visit tonight. She continued to follow me through the crowd, snatching at my hair and dress, and ripping lace from my sleeves. Another girl I recognized from the night on William’s porch, joined her, both of them screaming words I didn’t understand, nor want to, as I pushed through the crowd.
“Where is William?” I asked a few of the people around me. Everyone ignored my question, showing either pure shock or utter discontent for my presence. The awkwardness was unnerving.
“William is over here, Alexandra,” James called out. The girl following Katy smacked the back of his head in anger, but he ignored her, grabbed my hand and led me toward a table in the corner.
“Alexandra?” William asked, confused, as I approached. “What are you doing here?”
“He knows. Thomas knows. He knows everything.”
In my panic, I didn’t mean to scream. Whispers around us grew louder. If the Clan didn’t hate me now, certainly they would within the next few moments. A few of the women began pushing their children toward the cabins and leaving the scene. Some left on the orders of the men, and some left on their own accord.
“Calm down,” William said, placing his hands on my shoulders. “What are you talking about?”
“Thomas knows everything. He knows about my slave running, he knows I helped Peter, and he knows about every moment we have spent together.”
“How did he find out?”
“I don’t know how he acquired it, but he has my journal. He confronted me tonight at my parents’ manor.”
William’s fingers ran over my swollen, black and blue eye. I winced with pain. “Confronted or punished?” he asked.
“I told you Mr. Ludlow would find out,” Charlie shouted as he marched to the front of the crowd with his father at his side. Other clansmen began looking at one another and nodding their heads, communicating without words. “You were warned that your relationship would be exposed. What are you going to do now?”
“I will do nothing, Charlie. What business is this of anyone, but mine?” William snapped, staring down the ever growing mob of villagers.
“It’s everyone’s business. We didn’t need the burden that you’ve now unloaded on our family. We live peacefully here, yielding money and food here. We provide our families with a good life, and our family thrives here, but now we will suffer at the hands of her fiancé’s.”
“Thomas isn’t my fiancé,” I shouted, realizing too late that none of them would desire my opinion. Instead, my voice seemed to intensify the men’s anger.
“The clan relocates to Oklahoma in a few days,” Mr. Graysden interrupted, rising from his seat at the table and walking toward us. “
What difference does it make that he knows?”
“Jim, not everyone agrees with the choice you made,” Andrew, Charlie’s father said. “If we move, we have nothing. We don’t have land, we don’t have supplies to sell or use, we don’t have any means for making a living in Oklahoma.”
“Relocation is for the betterment of our people,” Mr. Graysden said.
“For the betterment of our people or of your son?”
“What are you implying, Andrew?”
“If your son and this woman need to leave Alabama, certainly relocating would be in your best interest and is swaying your sister’s choice.”
“Onawa was never swayed, and William and Alexandra’s situation did not affect her decision, nor mine. Do you really believe we have a better life here, living in a town with powerful white men who lie, cheat, and steal our supplies?” Mr. Graysden paced around the men and waved his arms as he shouted. “Or, that we have a better life living in constant fear that police will flood this village after we are accused of crimes we didn’t commit? In their eyes, we’re nothing more than slaves without masters. If you think they’ll allow us to live as free people, if they win this war, then you’re ignorant fools.”
“No, you’re the fool,” shouted Charlie’s father. “Your family is weak, you follow your hearts and not your heads, as your son has so aptly shown. This clan is worse off because of you and your son.”
“Know your place, Andrew. While my sister is gone, I am in charge.”
“I do know my place, Jim. However, I question if you understand what exactly is going on here.”
Several rifles clicked all around us, the men all poised against one of their own: Mr. Graysden. Was there nothing that my actions haven’t torn apart? The path of my destruction left quite a wake, haunting me, and tearing at my soul.
The Woman on the Painted Horse Page 19