When Silence Sings

by Sarah Loudin Thomas

  Colman looked at his father, who pushed a glittering bottle of liquor toward him. “Want some?” Colman snatched up the bottle and threw it out the open back door, where it shattered against a tree trunk. He watched the liquid as it ran down the bark and soaked into the soil.

  Serepta took Emmaline’s hand and disembarked at the Thurmond train station. She held her head high here in her enemy’s camp. She felt confident no one would trouble her while she walked hand in hand with a four-year-old child . . . with a black man trailing behind them. Charlie had protested the whole way. He’d tried to persuade her to make her cash withdrawal at one of the other banks where she held accounts. But Serepta had made up her mind, and Charlie of all people knew she was unlikely to change it.

  Eyes and frowning faces tracked her as she strode past the Mankin Drug Company building and Standard Dry Goods to the National Bank of Thurmond, where she kept significant funds mostly because it amused her to know that withdrawing them had the potential to cause a business in Harpe territory a measure of difficulty. She let the ghost of a smile hover. The bank manager would have to walk a fine line in order to cater to an important account holder without offending his local constituency.

  Charlie mumbled something behind her, but she ignored him. Emmaline had been enchanted by the train ride and was even now gawking at the narrow town teeming with life. They’d stay at the Dunglen Hotel once she’d finished her business at the bank. Not only was it friendlier to McLeans, but she could check on Ivy. While the hotel wasn’t quite what it had been in its heyday, Alden Butterfield would ensure they had the best room in the quietest corner. Of course, Charlie would have to bunk in nearby Ballyhack. Although such treatment made Serepta bristle, she knew better than to stir that particular pot.

  Gliding beneath the grand stone pediment into the bank, Serepta enjoyed the stir her entrance caused. Charlie stood outside the door, back pressed against a pillar where he could keep watch. She felt a surge of pleasure at the thought that he was looking out for her. It was a sensation she’d never experienced until Charlie came into her life, and she relished it now.

  She sailed past the marble check-writing stand, as well as the tellers behind their ornate windows, and approached the bank manager’s desk. The obsequious banker treated her as she expected—like a customer who could impact his bottom line if she chose to. Finished with her task, she ushered Emmaline back to the door, tugging at the crocheted gloves she wore as she stepped outside.

  Charlie was not in his spot.

  She looked up and down the row of buildings and across the tracks, frowning. It was unlike him to leave his post. She pinched her lips and took Emmaline’s hand. She raised her chin and started back toward the depot, so they could cross the New River to the Dunglen Hotel.

  As she passed the Mankin Drug Company, Police Chief Harrison Ash stepped onto the sidewalk. He grinned, swept off his Stetson, and bowed. “Well howdy there, Mrs. McLean,” he drawled in what she supposed was an imitation of a cowboy. “To what does Thurmond owe the honor?”

  She stared at him long enough to make him plop his hat back on and dial that grin back a few notches. “I am here to do some banking. I had thought to hear from you before now in regards to the question I posed some time back.”

  Harrison motioned for her to continue walking and darted a look around as he fell into step beside her. “Best I escort a fine lady like you traveling so far from home. Not everyone around these parts knows to make you welcome.” He spoke loudly enough that passersby could hear him.

  Serepta gave Emmaline’s hand a tug and proceeded toward the station.

  Harrison lowered his voice. “I might have a lead for ya, but it seems like the man who stole your liquor is being stolen from himself.”

  Serepta didn’t spare the lawman a look, but she did furrow her brow. “Well, that is unusual. Give me a name, and I will take the matter from here.”

  “I’m not quite ready to do that just yet.”

  She turned and glared at him.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve got me right where you want me. Thing is, I need to get clear myself before I make a mistake and toss a rabbit into the briar patch he came from to start with.”

  “Whatever do you mean by that?”

  “Just that whatever’s going on might hit awful close to home for you, and I need a little more time to”—he fingered the brim of his hat—“let some chickens hatch.”

  As they arrived at the station, Serepta had yet to see Charlie. “You speak in nonsensical riddles. Did you see my man Charlie waiting outside the bank?”

  “Black feller? No, but then I haven’t been by the bank today.”

  Serepta wanted to press the man harder to tell her what he knew, but Charlie’s absence was distracting her.

  “If you do, send him to the Dunglen. And I will give you two more days for your . . . chickens to hatch. Then I shall expect a full report.”

  Harrison tipped his hat. “Ma’am,” he said and walked away.

  Thankfully, Charlie had arranged for porters to carry their luggage to the hotel before he disappeared. Which made Serepta think that perhaps Charlie had gone ahead to make sure their room was ready. Well. She’d give him a piece of her mind when she saw him. He was to stay with her—and the child—at all times.

  Emmaline lagged and tugged at her hand, wanting to look at the tracks and the river and the people and everything else she encountered. Serepta finally snatched the little girl up and carted her across a wooden walkway over Dunloup Creek to the hotel. Emmaline protested and pushed, but Serepta had an iron grip. By the time she came to the double-decker porch with its stairs leading up to the lobby, Emmaline was screeching and kicking. Serepta dropped her to the ground, and the child exploded into howls.

  Jake and Mack had given her trouble a time or two when they were boys, yet she’d never had to deal with anything like this. She stood, hands on hips, watching the child she’d begun to think of as her own turn into a demanding, red-faced tyrant screaming to have her way. Where was Charlie when she needed him? Where was Ivy for that matter? She’d only dared to trust a few people in her life, and they had abandoned her to deal with this impertinent child.

  “Get up.”

  Emmaline continued her wailing.

  “Get up and come inside.”

  “I want my mommy!” she screeched, then lay down full length in the dirt and kicked her heels, pounding them against the ground and likely ruining her shoes.

  Serepta paled. “You will not find her here or anywhere, but you are free to go looking.” She tugged her gloves into place once again and marched up the stairs. By the time she’d reached the first landing, the tirade below had faded to sobs and hiccups. By the time she reached the porch, the crying had stopped. And by the time the front door was opened by a bewildered-looking doorman, she could hear little feet pounding along behind her.

  She stepped into the lobby as a small body crashed into her legs. She ignored the child and strode to the front desk where she asked for her room key and made sure her luggage had preceded her.

  “Have you seen my man Charlie? I expected him to come and make certain everything is in order.”

  The clerk shook his head. “Nobody’s been here checking on your room.” He smirked and waved at Emmaline. “Maybe that one scared him off.”

  Serepta managed to look down her nose at the man even though he was taller. “Nothing frightens Charlie.” She spun on her heel and made her way to her room, Emmaline bumping into her every other step. Once inside the spacious room with its view of the river and mountains beyond, she noted that her luggage was present, but still no Charlie.

  Sighing, she sat on a small settee and tried to think where Charlie might have gotten to. Maybe . . .

  “Momma?”

  Serepta froze, her heart in her throat. She stared at Emmaline’s tear-stained face. The child looked terrified. Had she caused that? “What did you say?”

  “I’m sorry, Momma.”

 
Serepta felt a powerful urge to scoop Emmaline into her arms and onto her lap. To hold her until all was well again.

  But she resisted. Emmaline did not need coddling. She needed to develop a spine of steel. “For what are you sorry?”

  Emmaline looked down, then up, then scrunched her face. “For making you go away.”

  Serepta’s heart caught again. It was a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. She patted the settee, and Emmaline climbed up next to her. “You must do as I say.” She reached out, drew her hand back, and then reached forward again, pushing dark curls from ruddy cheeks. “I will always ensure your safety, but you must trust me. If I say ‘no,’ or ‘come,’ you must obey. Do you understand?”

  Emmaline nodded. “Mommas go away.”

  Serepta closed her eyes and put one arm around the child, allowing her to lean into her side. “I will neither fail you nor forsake you.” Now, where had she heard those words before?

  Emmaline sighed, clearly exhausted by her fit of temper. Serepta knew how that felt. She tilted her head back and released a pent-up breath of her own. Now if only she could discover why Charlie had left, though hopefully not forsaken, her.

  chapter

  twenty-three

  Ivy wouldn’t leave Maggie and the as-yet-unnamed baby. Colman tried to persuade her to come with him back to Hinton, but she wouldn’t budge. “Maggie needs my help a while longer,” she said.

  Colman asked how long “a while” was. Ivy just shrugged and grinned at him. So now he sat on a stool at the counter in Mrs. McClure’s restaurant, drinking coffee and eating a slice of peach pie. He was just about finished when he caught sight of Elam trotting across the tracks toward the restaurant. He looked worried as he peered through the plate-glass window. Colman lifted a hand, and Elam perked up. He jerked the door open and hurried to Colman’s side.

  “You’d best come go with me,” he said.

  Colman felt a knot tighten in his gut. “What’s the matter?”

  “Just come on. Johnny’s keeping an eye out, but we need to do something quick.” He flashed a smile. “I saw you with my second sight. I didn’t hardly believe it until I looked through that window.”

  Colman didn’t like the sound of this. He dropped some coins on the counter and followed Elam outside. His cousin looked up and down the sidewalk before hustling Colman past the Lafayette Hotel and Armour meat-packing plant and turning up the steep hillside to the small foursquare house he and Johnny shared. Finger to his lips, he pointed to the back room. Colman pushed the door open. The windows had been covered with feed sacks. In the dim light he could make out Johnny. He was sitting where he could peek out a window by pushing back the makeshift curtain. There was also a figure lying on the narrow bed.

  Elam eased up behind him. “It’s that colored feller what trails along after Serepta McLean.”

  Colman moved closer as his eyes adjusted and saw that it was indeed Charlie, although if it hadn’t been for the color of his skin he would be unrecognizable. One eye was swollen shut, his nose looked crooked, and his lips were bloodied, split, and swollen. “What happened?”

  “Some of Webb’s crew got ahold of him. Guess they didn’t dare snatch Serepta herself but figured whipping her man would be a close second.”

  Colman finally tuned in to a low sound he’d been hearing since stepping onto the front porch. It was a soft keening rolling off Charlie. He stepped closer and noticed the men had a bowl of water and a cloth on the nightstand. “You try to doctor him?”

  “Some. He weren’t too cooperative. Wouldn’t have thought there was much fight left in him, but he held us off till we give up.”

  Colman looked the beaten man in his one good eye and saw agony there. Still, he had a notion it wasn’t physical pain so much that was troubling him. “There’s a woman named Ivy at the Dunglen. She’s tending to a newborn babe there. Fetch her.”

  “We was hoping you might take him out of here,” Johnny said. “Couldn’t leave him after we saw what’d been done to him, but it won’t sit well if Webb’s bunch finds out we helped.”

  “The quicker you get Ivy, the quicker she’ll have him in shape to leave on his own.” Colman glanced at the light still filtering through the feed sacks. “And he can’t go anywhere in daylight.”

  Johnny grunted. “I’ll go.”

  They all sat in silence for a while, then Colman picked up the cloth, dipped it in the basin of water, and wrung it out. He looked a question at Charlie and, not seeing anything that looked like refusal, began cleaning blood from his face.

  “Serepta.” The name was little more than a breath on Charlie’s swollen lips.

  “Word would be out if anything had happened to her,” Colman said. “She in town?”

  Charlie nodded, then flinched.

  “Seems like the last place she’d want to turn up,” Colman said.

  Amusement lit Charlie’s good eye. “Stubborn,” he whispered. “Willful.” Then so soft no one but Colman could possibly hear, “Wonderful.”

  Colman frowned and continued cleaning. Though he didn’t know Charlie well, he did know him to be hardworking and had never heard a word spoken against him. His loyalty to Serepta made Colman wonder what he saw that no one else did. He opened his mouth to ask but stopped when he heard footsteps coming up the path—Ivy’s, if he wasn’t mistaken. Fancy that . . . recognizing the sound of her step.

  Charlie reached up and grasped his arm with a battered hand. “There’s more to her than you know.”

  Colman stared at the broken man and then turned to see Ivy enter the room with a bag in her hand. “Oh, Charlie . . .” Tears welled in her eyes, but she shook them away. “Serepta’s at the Dunglen, and worried about you. We’ll get word to her soon as we can.” She darted a look at Colman. Did she mean for him to go tell Serepta?

  But Ivy wasted no time, calling for clean water, bandages, and a bowl for mixing. She set Johnny to boiling water and making a tea so pungent, Colman was grateful it hadn’t been the cure for what ailed him. He gradually backed out of the room, leaving her to her ministrations. He found Elam on the front porch, feet dangling as twilight descended and lightning bugs began rising into the air.

  “Anybody else know he’s here?” Colman asked, settling beside his cousin.

  “Don’t think so, but you know how word gets around.” He nodded down the hill at the closest house. “Estelle’s been twitching her curtains back all day. She may not know who’s here, but she knows there’s something going on. Only a matter of time before she butts in and tells the whole valley.” He laughed. “Don’t need the second sight to know that.”

  “Maybe we can get Charlie over to the Dunglen. Ivy said that’s where Serepta is.”

  Elam looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “You want to tote one of the McLeans’ men through town past who knows how many Harpes, some who tried to kill him last night, across the bridge, and then march into the Dunglen, where you know they don’t cotton to coloreds, and knock on Serepta’s door?”

  Colman nodded. “Sounds about right.”

  Elam snorted. “I’m betting you can hear what I’m a-thinking right now.”

  “I believe I can.” Colman grinned. “But I’m going to do it anyway.”

  Serepta had intended to be home by now, yet she could not leave without Charlie. She’d found Ivy, who introduced Emmaline to a squalling infant she’d helped into the world. Normally, Serepta would have no use for such things, but the distraction for Emmaline was convenient as she made queries about Charlie. No one had been helpful. As a matter of fact, several hotel denizens had seemed particularly shifty. Alden kept asking after Jake in a way that aroused her suspicion. Perhaps there was a price on her son’s head. She wouldn’t put it past the oily hotel manager to sell her son out to the highest bidder.

  Now she was back in her room preparing for a second night. Emmaline had gone to bed after supper, exhausted from a day spent running wild and fawning over that fatherless child. It wasn’
t how she preferred her protégé spend her day, but until she learned what had become of Charlie, she’d allow it.

  She stood at the window staring into the darkness and chewing her lower lip. In the morning she’d leave Emmaline with Ivy and talk to every person with any authority in Thurmond. She wished she’d brought along her pistol. Perhaps Alden could provide her with one. While she didn’t trust the man, she knew he’d never refuse her anything he could do as easily as that.

  There was a scuffling sound at the door. She whirled and longed for the pistol even now. Moving between the door and the room where Emmaline slept, she waited, listening so hard her ears throbbed.

  A light tapping sound.

  Drawing close to the door, Serepta spoke low. “Who is it?”

  “We’ve got your man.”

  She didn’t recognize the voice, but then Ivy said, “Serepta, it’s alright, let us in.”

  Pulling the door open, Serepta struggled to remain calm as Colman Harpe, a second man she didn’t know, and Ivy helped a battered Charlie inside.

  “What happened?” she hissed as she whisked the door shut behind them.

  “Some of the fellas in town gave Charlie what they wished they could give you.” Colman’s look told her she’d been judged and found guilty.

  “Put him on the sofa.” If nothing else, she knew how to give orders.

  Ivy slipped up beside her. Serepta had the impression the younger woman thought to put an arm around her but withheld the gesture. “His ribs are bruised, but I don’t think they’re broken. I wrapped the fingers on his left hand—they most likely are broken. Everything else will heal given time.”

  Serepta nodded.

  “I gave him a tincture for the pain. He should sleep now.”

  Serepta turned to the men who’d returned Charlie to her. “Did anyone see you?”

  The older man—not Colman—ducked his head. “Most likely. We was real careful, but they’s folks everywhere. If no one saw us it’d be a miracle.”