AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (98 page)

The men leaned toward each other and whispered a few moments before the first one looked back at Victoria. “I could show you the ones we have, ma’am. If you see one or two you fancy, then I am sure we can come to an arrangement.”

Victoria beamed at the man. “Oh! That would be splendid!”

The man stood up and, grabbing a ring of keys from the wall, asked Victoria to follow him. The guard led Victoria to a large room where women and children were chained to poles in the center of the room. Appalled at the conditions these women and children were in, Victoria bit back her disgust and scanned the room.

“Might I get closer? Maybe talk to them a little to learn what their skills are?”

The guard nodded and retreated back into the hallway.

Victoria glanced at the women, who all kept their heads bowed. Only one met her gaze, so Victoria approached her.

She leaned close so the guard wouldn't overhear her. "Hello.”

The woman did not reply.

“I am looking for Samira. Is she in this room?”

The woman looked around the room and pointed at a woman in the corner, huddled under a mass of blankets.

Victoria approached the huddled woman and quickly realized she could not be Thomas’ wife, for she was far too old. Still, she bent down and gently touched the old woman on her shoulder.

“Excuse me, please. Do you know if Samira is here?”

The old woman met Victoria’s gaze.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked in a raspy voice.

Victoria leaned closer. "I have come to help get her and her girls back to her husband. Thomas is my cousin and has asked me to help.”

The old woman coughed and a tear escaped her heavy lidded eyes. “Yer too late, child.”

“They already sent her back to Georgia?”

The old woman shook her head no and started coughing heavily. “No. Samira and her girls is dead. They had to burn most the bodies when half of us got the sickness. Samira and her girls were the first to go...”

Victoria felt the floor drop from under her. "NO! Are you certain?”

“Yes, child. Samira was my niece. T’was providence that brought us together here; least I was able to make ‘em comfortable before they passed...”

Victoria stood up, suddenly sick. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her. As she leaned on the brick wall for a moment, the guard came up behind her.

“Ma’am, are you okay? Did you find one you like?”

Victoria glanced at the guard, and smiled her brightest. She stood up straight. "Yes. Yes. I am fine. Pregnancy, you know, can be so taxing.”

The guard nodded sympathetically, but he gestured to the women all around the room. “Should I prepare one of these women for you?”

Victoria shook her head. "No. Was there sickness among these women recently?”

The guard nodded. "But we have been assured that these women are all healthy.”

Victoria made a show of thinking about it, then shook her head from side to side. "No, I better not. If they were still sick, and could not finish the trip with me, I would be pretty hard off then, wouldn’t I?”

The guard agreed. Victoria took one last glance around the room and then headed to the door. Part of her wanted to take at least one, just to save a life, to get them out of the horrendous conditions, but the practical side of her refused to give in to the urge.

A few minutes later, Victoria was taking a deep gulp of fresh air in the bright sunlight in front of the prison. She hailed a buggy and had it return her to the hotel. When she walked into the room she shared with Thomas, she found him asleep on the bedroll he had made that first night, so she could sleep on the bed. She stood over him for a few moments, watching him sleep in peace, not sure how she was supposed to break the news to him. His wife. His children. It was the most horrible thing she could do, and she was suddenly afraid. What would he do when he found out? What would he say?

As she stood there, Thomas slowly opened his eyes and saw her. He smiled and sat up, running his hand over his face. “You are back! How did it go? Did you get to see my girls? When do you go back for them?”

Victoria found herself at a loss. Thomas stood up and looked at Victoria more closely. He realized she was pale. He took her hand and led her to the chair, then he sat on the edge of the bed.

“You must be exhausted. I am sorry, I didn’t think...”

Victoria raised her hand to stop Thomas, and barely above a whisper, she said, "They are dead.”

Thomas sat perfectly still for several minutes as he watched silent tears run down Victoria’s face. He moved to the floor in front of her.

“Repeat that...”

Victoria whispered, "They are dead, Thomas.” She looked into his eyes. “They were among the first to die when some sort of illness ran through the prison. Their bodies have been burned...”

Thomas shook his head from side to side, saying "No. No. No no no...That cannot be. They knew I was going to come for them. They can’t be...” Thomas, overcome by grief, laid his head in Victoria’s lap and sobbed. Also crying, Victoria smoothed his hair and prayed silently that the Lord would please heal their hearts.

***

The following morning, both completely shaken, Thomas recommended they sit down and figure out what to do from that point. He informed Victoria that he still had messages and deliveries to make to a few towns further west, and he still had every intention of helping get Victoria west and settled safely if she still wanted to do that.

Victoria could not bear the thought of being separated from Thomas, so she told him that she still wanted to head west too, if she was not too much of a burden for him. Thomas assured her that she was no burden, so with their plans decided, the pair packed up their belongings.

Two hours later, they sat side by side on a new wagon outfitted for the long trek west. The pair traveled in silence most of the day, too wrapped up in their own thoughts and grief. Even setting up camp, the two worked in silence, until it came to placing the bedrolls. When Simon had been with them, they slept side by side in the wagon, while Simon had a bedroll on the ground or in a small tent. Now that Simon was not with them, it made sense for Thomas to sleep on the ground. And yet, as the two were grabbing the bedrolls, Thomas hesitated.

At the back of the wagon, while Victoria was crouched inside the wagon, Thomas played with the ties of his bedroll. Part of him irrationally hoped that Victoria would stop him and say it was okay for him to share the wagon with her, while part of him knew there was absolutely no good reason to play the part with no one around. All the while, accusations—conflicting with longing—tickled the edges of his mind.

While Thomas struggled, Victoria was oblivious. Her fears and doubts about the future suddenly seemed very small in light of Thomas’ unexpected loss. She fiddled with her bedroll, completely unaware that Thomas was still waiting at the end of the wagon. She did not see Thomas cast her a wistful glance as he finally decided it was only proper for him to let Victoria have the wagon.

Silent through their evening meal, the only words they uttered to each other were a simple “good night” as Thomas helped Victoria into the wagon and they prepared to rest. Then when Thomas lay down as well, he was forced to be alone with his memories of Samira and his daughters. He thought of the terror they must have endured when they were captured, and wondered at the hardship of living in a prison. He hoped they had not suffered before they died. Then he wondered, now that the Army had nothing to hold over him, would they forget about him? What should he do now?

Then Victoria stirred in the wagon, and Thomas began to think of her. That was what he needed to do, he thought to himself. He needed to follow through on his promise to her. He needed to make sure she made it safely someplace west and got settled. Then he could worry about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He owed it to James, and after she put herself out there to help him with Samira, he owed it to Victoria as well. As he finally started to doze off, he realized he owed it to himself to see someone all the way to a safe place.

***

As the days turned into weeks, the shock and grief Victoria and Thomas were working through helped them form a bond. It took a few days for them to talk to each other again. Both were convinced that the grief the other felt was more intense than their own, and they did not feel right bringing it up. However, as they were pulling away from the last of the underground railroad stops Thomas was delivering a message to, especially after hearing the horrors some of the runaways had just left, the pair both seemed to find sudden relief in the other.

Thomas held the reins lightly as Victoria held a large paper map and plotted out the route to the area where they hoped to camp for the night.

“We have not talked about it, you know.”

Victoria, engrossed in the map, responded, "About what?”

“About where exactly you want to go, and about what you hope to do as a single mother.”

Victoria laid the map on her lap. “Oh. That.”

Thomas looked at Victoria. “Do you have a plan?”

Victoria shrugged. "Well, everything so far has felt so spontaneous, I have only thought as far as you helping me get there. I have not thought about what I would do after you come back here.”

Thomas felt a pang as he realized he was not sure he wanted to return. Not when every place that meant anything to him would also remind him of the four people he loved most, and how he had played a huge part in the way they died.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me get to this place called Denver, or near there, anyway. I used to teach in England. I suppose wherever I get settled I can try to help teach or tutor, or something like that. Or, if that is not an option, I am a fairly good cook. I could always find work doing that. I hear the miners and prospectors out West are always looking for a woman who can cook or clean. I don’t imagine I will be single for long.”

Thomas looked at Victoria again and could not help remarking with his typical Southern charm, "The prettiest woman in the South moves out West—I am certain she will not stay single long at all.”

Victoria met Thomas’ gaze and blushed at his compliment. She turned away quickly, afraid he would see how much he truly did flatter her. She chided herself that she had no business reading into his compliments—he was still grieving, and his kindness was just a way to make her feel better. However, when Victoria turned away so abruptly, Thomas realized he truly meant what he said, and it hit him that Victoria very well could meet a new husband in this Denver place.

Victoria shook her head. "I am sure it will all work out just fine. I hope I don’t keep you so long that you end up regretting helping me. I already feel like it's my fault—”

Thomas pulled the horses in and stopped the wagon. He turned in his seat to look at Victoria better. “What's your fault?”

Victoria looked down at her lap. “What I mean is, if you had not come to help me in Charleston, you could have made it to Louisville in time—maybe—and then you would still have your wife and daughters.”

Thomas reached out and grabbed Victoria’s arms, forcing her to look at him.

“You needed help, Victoria. You are an innocent party in all of this.” As he said it, and realized what else he was going to tell her, he also realized he was right, and in applying it to himself, he could finally forgive himself too. “Samira and James were working with me. We chose a life of danger, and we put you and my daughters in harm’s way. We had a choice. You did not. Neither did my daughters. I cannot save my daughters. I can, however, help you. You hold no blame. None at all. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

Victoria stared into Thomas’ face and saw a wall fall down as he forgave himself for his part, and she knew he was right. She was still grieving, and she still felt responsible in a way, but she knew those feelings would pass. As a single tear slid down her cheek. Thomas gently wiped it away.