Her Captain's Heart (7 page)

“I'm afraid that the two of us will always disagree upon that issue,” he said, using her words. “But I do see that the Freedman's Bureau will have its way here. And I do thank you for thinking of the white children, but I doubt that any white parent would allow their child to go to such a school.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She liked the man's honest face and wished he would see things differently.

He nodded to himself as he rose, as if he had decided something. “I think that you have come with the finest intentions, but the South is not ready.”

“Then I fear for the South.” She rose also and folded her hands, looking up into his eyes earnestly.
Let him hear me, Lord.
“The North will not have lost thousands and thousands of lives to achieve nothing. If the South will not change willingly, the Radical Republicans will jam these changes down Southern throats. President Johnson, a Tennessean, has been able to hold off the inevitable for a time, but his protection will not last. The Radical Republicans hold power in Congress and they will not hesitate to use it.”

“I have never before discussed politics with a woman.” He gave her a wry half smile. “But I do not doubt the correctness of your assessment. You see, ma'am, the war continues.” He bowed to her and walked toward the door.

She followed him, sorry to see a good man so misguided. “I bid thee good evening then. Please know that whatever I do, I do because I want to help, not hurt.”

The man halted. “I have no doubt that your motives are the best. But even the best motives can't bring about what you wish. Thank you for the tea.” He spoke as a friend, a deeply concerned one.

And she wondered why. Why did he sound as if he knew her?

He studied her face for another moment and then shook her offered hand and donned his hat. He was out the door, on his horse and gone quickly.

As Verity stared after him, Joseph walked inside. “I didn't expect us to start getting visitors so soon. Does that mean you're making progress?”

“I'm not exactly sure.” Verity turned over in her mind all she had learned not from words, but from all the other unspoken language. She felt that she had now met all the major players in the drama of which she was a part, except for Orrin Dyke. And she'd set events in motion by speaking to the vicar at St. John's.
But I came to set those events in motion.
The people here might be reluctant, but God's work could not wait forever.

 

The next morning when Matt sat down at the kitchen table, his foul mood vanished instantly when Hannah set before him a bowl of pearly white grits with a small pond of yellow butter in the middle. Salivating, he helped himself generously and nearly smacked his lips.
Grits. Manna.
Matt savored their texture and taste on his tongue. He hadn't had grits since his mother had passed away. “Thank you, Hannah.”

Hannah chuckled. “The boy been North too long.”

“What's that?” Beth asked, looking at the bowl. At her mother's frown, she added, “Please, Aunt Hannah.”

“That's grits and they're good. You'll like them.” Hannah turned back to the stove. “Now you eat up, little girl. You won't have fun on an empty stomach.”

“I'm going to get Barney to let me pet him again today,” Beth announced as she helped herself to a small serving of grits.

“Who Barney?” Hannah asked, pouring more coffee around the table.

“It's the mongrel Mrs. Hardy let follow us home yesterday,” Matt said, trying to sound disgruntled to tease the little girl.

“What's a mongrel?” Beth asked, eyeing Matt.

“It means we don't know who his ma and pa were,” Joseph said. “I think he'll make a good watchdog after he gets used to us.”

Matt tried to lose himself in the mundane conversation, but his plans for the day kept nudging him. The thought of them nearly took away his appetite—even for grits.

“Barney is going to be a good dog.” Beth rocked in her chair. “He was scared of that man last night, but after the man rode away, Barney let me pet him.”

“I saw that Dace was here last evening,” Matt said, trying to sound uninterested. “What did he want?

“Thy cousin came for a short visit,” the widow said, glancing pointedly at her daughter.

Matt got the message.
I can wait.
He shoved all this aside and with great satisfaction took a second helping of grits. “So, young lady,” he asked, “how do you like grits?”

“I haven't made up my mind yet, sir,” Beth replied, stirring her spoon in her grits. “I like Aunt Hannah's scrambled eggs, though.”

“Thank you, child.” Hannah nodded toward Beth.

Matthew cleaned up his plate and rose. “Well, I've got a lot to do today.”
A fool's errand and then probably a long ride.

“Aunt Hannah, can I have the leftovers for Barney, please?” Beth asked. “And may I be excused, Mama?”

Hannah nodded. Verity smoothed her hand over the child's hair. “Yes. Stay in our yard.”

Beth agreed and with pan of bacon ends and leftover eggs, she skipped out the door, calling, “Barney!”

“I think I'll sit on the front porch and whittle some and watch the leaves turning.” Joseph thanked Hannah for breakfast.

Matt did the same, and the widow preceded him out the back door. They paused at the top of the steps to the yard. “What did my cousin come to see you for—if you don't mind my asking,” Matt amended.

The morning sunlight glinted in her hair. He liked seeing her without her black bonnet. He imagined rubbing her springy curls between his thumb and forefinger. He clenched his hands, as if to ensure that they stayed put.

She rested one hand on the railing and blinked at the bright morning sunshine. “I don't mind telling thee, because it wasn't a personal visit. Thy cousin came to warn me away. He thinks the South isn't ready for change.”

Anger burned in Matt's throat. He'd already told his cousin on no uncertain terms—

“Can thee think of any other reason he would come besides telling me not to expect the town to accept our school?”

“No, I can't.” I
won't.

She studied him as if trying to figure out if he were being frank.

That grated. But he'd been pretty unforthcoming when they'd met on the road home from the Ransford place. She knew there were things he wasn't telling her.

Should he tell her, now that she was staying? He kept noticing little things about her. Now it was her dainty ivory ears and he shifted his gaze past her to the mutt noisily lapping water that Beth had just pumped for him. “I've got an errand to do. It's time I get busy getting building supplies and hiring men.”

“I'll wish thee good day, then. I still have some curtains to hang.” She went back inside.

As he walked toward town, he tried to picture himself telling Verity about his childhood with Dace and Samuel. A wave of guilt hit him as he thought of Hannah and Elijah—were they wondering why he had not asked them about their son, whom he had loved like a brother as a child?

He hadn't found the right moment, or at least that's what he'd been telling himself. But the truth was, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what happened to Samuel. He wasn't sure he could stand to hear it.

 

Soon Matt stepped into Hanley's store. He'd been in town for well over a week now and it was time to launch his attack. Silence fell upon the crowded gathering place of the village. Matt went directly to Hanley as if they were the only two in the store.

Hanley greeted him from behind the counter with a wary nod. “What can I do for you today?”

“I was wondering if you'd like to order some lumber and building supplies for me so I won't have to ride to Richmond.” Matt thought that giving the local storekeeper the chance to make some money might help with popular opinion about the school.

He heard footsteps behind him as someone entered the store, but he didn't look back. “I also want to know if there are any carpenters in the area.”

“Is this for that school of yours?” The voice came from behind Matt.

It was funny how after all these years, Matt still knew Orrin Dyke's belligerent and mocking voice. He turned slowly, feeling every eye on him. Matt stared at the big beefy man, who was a head taller than him. “Yes.”

“I'll tell you straight to your face, then. We ran your family out of town once and we can do it again.” Everyone in the store and outside on the bench had frozen into place. A heavy feeling of expectation expanded in the silence.

“No doubt I am not wanted here,” Matt countered, his blood simmering at the mention of his family being forced out of town. “But I am going to stay long enough to build the school and prepare the former slaves to vote—”

With only a few strides, Orrin covered the distance between them. “Get out of town or you'll wish you had.”

“Try anything and you'll end up in jail.”
Where you belong.
Matt stared at Orrin's cruel face and thought of how his mother had cried as they drove out of town. And the recent memory of Alec's battered body bumped Matt's hostility up another notch.
Bully. Go ahead and try something. Give me a reason to—

Orrin raised his fists. Matt moved into fighting stance, ready to defend himself, relishing the chance to release his anger on this very worthy target.

“Orrin,” Hanley declared, “I have no quarrel with you. But I don't want any fighting in my store.”

Orrin bristled. “I won't have any Yankee coming here and trying to give the coloreds uppity ideas. There will be no school for them in this town.” He ended his statement with a crude epithet. The women and a few older men gasped at this public impropriety.

“There are ladies present,” a very deep and completely unexpected voice chided from the doorway.

Just as Matt had instantly recognized Orrin's voice, he knew who'd spoken. He swung around to the entrance. “Samuel.” And that was all he could say. It took all his strength not to hurry to Samuel and throw his arms around him.
Samuel. Friend.

Wearing good clothes and a rifle on his shoulder, Samuel removed his hat and nodded. “Matt, it has been a long time.”

Over fourteen years.
Matt's throat constricted, but he forced out the words, “Samuel, glad to see you.” It was a completely insufficient response to Samuel's homecoming. But with half the town gawking at them, Matt didn't trust himself to say anything further.

Orrin spat out a stream of nasty curses. “You ain't welcome in town, either,” he yelled at Samuel, his face and neck now a bright ugly red.

Samuel merely stared into Orrin's eyes as if daring him to do more than curse. He looked as if planting a fist in Orrin's nose would be pure pleasure.

The outraged white man swung away from Matt and charged Samuel.

Samuel casually slid the rifle on his shoulder into his hands and aimed it at Orrin.

Matt couldn't believe it. He'd not thought it possible for the tension in the room to increase, but it spiraled upward to a frightening pitch. A black man pointing a gun at a white man. All the men surged to their feet, ready to strike down this effrontery.

“There will be no pitched battle in my store!” Hanley barked. “Do you hear me? I won't have it!”

Orrin ignored him and snarled at Samuel, “You get out of town. If you come here for your ma and pa, get them and leave. Quick.” Orrin shouldered past Samuel and stormed out the door.

Samuel lowered his rifle and completely ignored Orrin's parting words. “I was on my way through town to Ransford's when I saw you through the window, Matt. How are my mother and father? Have you seen them?” he asked, as if nothing had happened.

Swallowing with difficulty, Matt could hardly keep hidden all the emotions dancing through him. “Your parents are fine. You will find Hannah at my place, the Barnesworth house. She just started as our housekeeper.”

Samuel nodded his thanks. “What has brought you back to town, Matt?”

“I am here from the Freedman's Bureau to build a school. I am hiring carpenters and others in the building trade.”

“That is good news. I know how to swing a hammer. I don't know how long I'll be in town—I have unfinished business I need to take care of—but you can count on me for some work.”

Matt offered Samuel his hand, to the shock of those in the store. Clearly they weren't ready to accept white and black men shaking hands yet. Well, they might as well start getting used to it.

“Are you headed home now?” Samuel asked.

“No, I have business here and perhaps in Richmond.”

“I'll be off to visit my mother, then. I'll see you later, Matt.” Samuel nodded politely and strolled out the door.