A Chance at Love (19 page)

“I know, but I could have gone in his place. He didn't have to go.”

She heard the underlying bitterness in his tone. “Did the two of you ever reconcile before his death?”

“No, after my mother died, he saw the devil in everything and everywhere, mostly in himself. He spent the last years of his life in that room upstairs on his knees in the
dark, begging God to forgive his sins. He rarely bathed, ate just enough to stay alive, and berated me for trying to keep the farm going. Wanted me on my knees praying for his soul instead of planting.”

Loreli now understood some of the reasons behind Jake Reed's stoic exterior. In the face of such difficult family circumstances, she would have been forced to view life stoically as well. She also understood why he'd been so grim when showing her his father's attic room. “If you don't want me to open that room again, I'll understand.”

“No, it's time for light up there. It's been closed off long enough. Maybe it'll help me get rid of a few ghosts of my own.”

Loreli was touched by his readiness to share his past. “You've told me a lot about yourself this evening.”

“I hadn't planned on it, so how about you return the favor?”

She turned and looked at him in the shadows. “You want to know something about me now?”

“I think it's only fair.”

“Okay, how about this? The fire that killed my mother was set by men hired by my father's mother?”

“What?”

“Yes. They came to the house one night while my father and grandfather were away on business.” She looked out over the darkness and continued, “I guess my grandmother had a conscience of sorts because the men took me out of the house first. I don't remember if my mother put up a fight or not, I was too young to remember, but my pa always said I got my spirit from her, so I imagine she did fight them, but it didn't matter. They took me, tied her up and nailed the doors and windows shut.”

Loreli's voice was barely above a whisper, “Can you imagine being tied up and unable to free yourself while someone is nailing you in. She must have been terrified. They poured kerosene around the outside and set it on fire.”

Jake was appalled. “What did they do with you?”

“Gave me to my grandmother who in turn, sold me to a friend of hers in the next county. My father didn't tell me this story until I was ten or so. Said I wasn't old enough to know the truth before then.”

“How did he find you?”

“At first, she told him I too had been burned to death, but when he couldn't find my body in the ashes and rubble, he confronted her. She eventually told him what she'd done with me, and he immediately came to claim me.”

“But why did she do such an awful thing?”

“She hated my mother, I suppose. He was her only child and he broke her heart by marrying a slave woman, but once my father found me, we never returned to his parents' home.”

Loreli then said, “Second story. My father was killed in a card game. Stabbed to death by two thugs. Later that night, before I could find somebody to bury him, those same men came back, dragged me behind the boardinghouse where my daddy and I had been staying and took what innocence I had left.”

Jake whispered, “My lord.”

“Yep. So, although Rebecca and her kind might not believe it, I've been very, very particular about who I invite into my bed since then.”

Jake didn't know what to say or feel.

She asked him emotionlessly, “Are we even, now, you and I?”

He still found it hard to speak. “Were the men caught?”

She shrugged. “Sheriff didn't care about a mulatto and her troubles. One of the whores from the saloon took me in, patched me up. A few weeks later, I took off north. Eventually wound up in Philadelphia.”

“How'd you feed yourself?”

“Playing cards, throwing dice, pitching pennies. My daddy was one of the best gamblers in the south and he taught me well.”

The night's silence rose between them for a moment, then Loreli said, “I vowed to never be that kind of victim again, and I haven't. No matter what it took, Loreli has always been in control of Loreli.”

Jake heard the mix of anger, defiance, and pride in her voice. He wanted to somehow go back in time, find the men and punish them until they hurt as much as she'd been hurt. Jake knew about rape, but blessedly no one in his acquaintance had ever been subjected to such an outrage. He could only guess at how long it must take a woman to get over such a horrendous experience, or if she ever did at all. “Are the memories still there?”

“They're always there. I don't think it's something you forget. The harshness dulls after awhile, but it never goes away.”

Jake knew then and there that he would hurt anyone who called her whore in the future.

“I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you this, but I will because it's part of the story too.”

“Okay.”

“Well, later in my life I met a wonderful man who helped me heal some of the scars. He taught me that a man and woman coming together didn't have to be a nasty,
painful, or degrading act; it could be beautiful, loving, even fun. He helped me learn that a man could touch a woman with wonder, desire—passion.”

Loreli looked over at Jake and said, “I'm not trying to upset you, Jake.”

“I understand. Did you love this man?”

Loreli replied truthfully, “I did, but loving him was like trying to love the wind. He's even more restless than I am.”

“So is he still in your life?” Jake steeled himself for the answer. For reasons he refused to examine, Jake didn't want to learn that this mystery man was awaiting her in California.

“Haven't seen him in years. Last I heard, he was in Cuba somewhere on a sugar plantation.”

“Working?”

She chuckled. “Owns the place more than likely. Trevor Church never did an honest day's work in his life, far as I know.”

Jake turned the odd-sounding name over in his mind, and realized he didn't know one man of color with the name Trevor.

“Where's he from?”

“Ireland. His mother was an Irish noblewoman—his father, a Black British seaman.”

“That's unusual.”

“Not really, according to Trevor. Britain's Black seamen have fathered children all over the empire just as their White comrades have done. In fact, he swears mulatto children like him are the true reason the term Black Irish came to be.”

Jake didn't know anything about Black Irishmen or even White Irishmen, if the truth be told. What he did
know was that he was suddenly jealous of the man's place in Loreli's life, even though Jake knew he had no right to be. How had he gone from barely tolerating this woman to being jealous of the people in her past in less than a week? Once again he could only wonder if he were under some kind of exotic spell. He'd never had a woman affect him this way, but then, he'd never met a woman like Loreli.

Because of the lengthy silence, Loreli felt compelled to say, “You are angry, aren't you?”

“No, I'm not. I'm just thinking what a remarkable woman you are.”

She studied him for a moment. “Are you being serious, or sarcastic?”

“Serious, Loreli. Very much so.”

“Compliments?”

“Yes, and don't act so surprised. I've given you a few before now.”

“You're right, you have, but—”

“But what?” Jake asked.

“I didn't know how you'd react to hearing about Trevor, is all.”

Silence reigned for a moment, then he said, “No man enjoys hearing about the accomplishments of another man, especially in relation to the woman he's about to marry.”

“But we aren't marrying for each other. We're doing this for the girls.”

“True, but I'm still a man, Loreli.”

Her heart pinged. “So, you are upset?”

“No, I'm not.”

“I think you are.”

He shook his head. “I'm not.”

“Then let's change the subject.”

“Fine.”

“You are upset.”

Jake's lip tightened. “I thought we were changing the subject?”

“You're probably never going to meet Trevor, you know.”

“Loreli?”

“Sorry. So, what shall we talk about? Politics is always a safe subject. You're a Republican, am I correct?”

“I was for the last election, but if the Populists can gather enough support I may vote for them this time.”

“Who are the Populists?”

“That third party I told you about earlier.”

“Oh.”

Loreli sensed he was still out of sorts about Trevor, and she didn't really care to discuss politics. “Your turn.”

“For what?”

“To pick a topic of discussion.”

“I think I'm going to head to bed. Church in the morning.”

“I see.” She scanned his shadowy outline in an attempt to guess his real mood. She got nothing. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

He walked off the porch and headed toward the barn.

As she watched him fade into the darkness, she wanted to yell at him,
You are upset!
But she kept it to herself.

 

Loreli awakened Sunday morning in Jake's hard-as-a-rock bed, and swore she had bruises all over her body. Dragging herself over to the basin, she rinsed her teeth, then washed her face.

The girls, still in pajamas and house coats, were already at the table awaiting breakfast when she arrived. Even though it was early, the temperature was high, hinting at the hot day ahead.

“Morning, Loreli,” the twins called cheerily.

“Morning, girls.”

Jake came out of the kitchen and set a platter of bacon and eggs on the table, then took his seat. “Good morning,” he said to her.

“Morning,” she replied. He had his mask on, so she assumed he was still out of sorts about last night.

Dede said, “You look sleepy, Loreli.”

Loreli put the cotton napkin across her lap. “I am. Your uncle's bed turns into a rock pile every night. How on earth do you sleep on that thing?” she asked him.

“Feels fine to me.”

“Guess it helps to be made of stone, Reed.”

He shot her a quelling look. “Bow your heads so I can say the grace.”

So they did.

Once he was done, the eggs and bacon were dished out, and everyone started in on their meal.

In an effort to draw him out, Loreli asked, “What time do you usually leave for church?”

“Service starts at ten, so we head over around nine.”

It was now seven. “Okay.”

At eight-thirty, Loreli, wearing a sun yellow walking suit and a big feathery hat, had both girls ready for final
inspection. Their faces were clean and their hair neatly braided. They'd donned clean shirts and denims, and their dusty little boots had been buffed and shined with an old rag.

Loreli beamed down at them approvingly and said, “Ladies, I think we're ready to go to church. Shall we?”

They grinned and raced out the door.

Loreli picked up her yellow parasol and yelled after them, “No running in the house!” She didn't really mean it, but she knew that's what a mama was supposed to say.

Outside she was pleased to see Jake all gussied up as well. The faded farm clothes he usually wore had been replaced by a bright white shirt and a pair of black, well-fitting trousers. The braces were black with silver fittings. A string tie hung from beneath his shirt collar, and he had on what she guessed to be his Sunday hat. Dressed up he was even more handsome.

As she and the twins joined him beside the wagon, he said, “Girls, you look real nice.”

They smiled and climbed into the bed.

“You look nice this morning too, Loreli,” Jake said. In reality he thought she was dazzling. Every eye in the church would be turned her way.

“So do you.”

“Thanks.” Jake handed her up, and tried not to be affected by her warm, soft palm in his, but failed. The heat rushed up his arm and into his blood. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about a woman's flesh on Sunday morning, but with her around he seemed incapable of doing anything else.

Grim, he climbed up behind the reins and set the team in motion.

During the ride, the girls occupied themselves with looking for funny-shaped clouds in the blue sky overhead. Dede found a rabbit, and her sister pointed out a dragonfly. While they went on with the game, Loreli said quietly to Jake, “You're mighty tight-lipped this morning.”

“I'm fine.”

Loreli knew that if she disputed his claim an argument would break out, so she didn't press. “How many people usually come to Sunday service?”

“Forty-five, fifty folks, on average.”

Loreli was impressed. “That's quite a few, wouldn't you say?”

“Yes. Sometimes twice that many show up at Christmas time.”

They were having this nonsensical conversation to keep from talking about what really stood between them, and they both knew it. Loreli refused to broach the subject again because he'd already rebuffed her efforts once, and Jake didn't want to bring up his reaction to her story last night because he still hadn't come to grips with his jealousy. So instead, they sat silently and watched the fields roll by.

As he drove, Jake realized this would be his first public outing with Loreli Winters, and he could already hear the whispers and speculation their arrival would spawn. By now everyone in the colony knew he was marrying her; some would think him insane, and others, like Rebecca's friends, would probably be outraged. He didn't feel the need to explain himself, however, nor would he run and hide. If gossip followed him the rest of his life, so be it. The girls' needs outweighed everything else.

He glanced over at Loreli.
Lord, what a beautiful woman.
Her nearness, coupled with the faint but heady scents of her fine perfume, was enough to tempt a saint. He wondered if she knew that hot blood flooded his loins every time he looked at her.