Patricia Rice (40 page)

He slammed open the kitchen door, crossed the kitchen in two strides, grabbed the new arrival by the shirt front, and pounded him up against the wall. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were back!"

Jackson grinned, caught Pace's chin in a broad hand, and shoved it back and upward until he forced Pace to drop him to save his neck. "You want me to leave a calling card at the front door?" he asked sarcastically.

Pace slapped Jackson's hand away. "You're a free man. You've got that right. What in hell are you doing back here?"

The grin disappeared and Jackson nodded at the laughing, chattering women. "Tell you later. Heard you got yourself hitched."

Pace's expression didn't change, but he pounded Jackson on the back and steered him toward the gallery to the house. "To Dora. She'll want to see you. Come on in and I'll call her down."

Jackson balked. "I cain't go in there. Things ain't changed that much. You want to talk, we can stay outside."

Pace gave him a shove that nearly knocked the taller man over. "Shut up, Jackson. It's my house, and I'll invite anyone in I want to."

Jackson shut up, but his expression remained leery as he traversed the sunny gallery filled with geraniums and the overflow of dishes and pots and bowls from the kitchen. Once in the elegant dining room with the polished mahogany table and chandelier, he stepped backward, almost tromping on Pace's toes.

"I don' belong in here," he muttered. "I'll go wait on the porch."

"You stayed in Dora's house," Pace reminded him, giving him another shove in the direction he wanted him to go. "Is there some reason you can't visit mine?"

Jackson skeptically eyed the expensive wool rugs and the crystal lamps dotting polished tables as he entered the front parlor. "Dora didn't have all these gewgaws. You don' let your bulls in here, do you?"

Pace snorted. "You ever saw this place after Charlie and me got through with it? Don't ever walk through here barefoot. They can't get all the glass out."

Jackson seemed to accept that, but he refused to take a seat on one of the brocaded sofas while Pace called Dora downstairs. He stood there in the center of the elegant parlor, twisting his battered felt hat between his large black hands as he waited.

Pace watched as Jackson forgot his nervousness when Dora flew down the stairs to hug him and kiss his cheek. Pace figured it wasn't so much Jackson forgetting his nervousness as his being so astonished that he didn't know what hit him. In the jonquil Sunday dress and petticoats, with her hair curling all about her face, Dora was a far cry from the prim gray Quaker Jackson had last seen.

"You're safe! You're alive! Praise be, Jackson, I've been so worried. They don't print anything about your regiment in the paper. I didn't know what to think." Dora practically danced with happiness as she grabbed his hand and led him to the sofa. Pace duly noted that Jackson sat without being told this time.

She hadn't danced and laughed like that when Pace came home, but then, he hadn't given her much reason to. Besides, Dora always seemed to know when he was alive and well or hurt and sick. He hadn't deserved this kind of homecoming.

Still, Pace caught Dora's waist and held her as he pulled her down on the loveseat across from Jackson. She looked at him with surprise, but Pace was intent on Jackson.

"Now tell me what you're doing back in this hellhole," he demanded. "You're a free man. This is not the place for a free black."

Jackson shrugged and twisted at his hat some more. "I got my discharge. I've got me some money. Liza's livin' across the river with some friends. It's time we made our home somewheres. And I thought maybe Miss Dor…your wife might be hirin'."

"I am still Dora to you," she said softly. "There are entirely too many Mrs. Nicholls around here, and I am unaccustomed to using titles as yet."

Pace relaxed and leaned back against the seat. He and Dora might have absolutely nothing else in common, but they both knew the difference between a man and an animal and skin color had little to do with either. That still didn't explain why Jackson had returned here.

"We're hiring, all right," Pace replied, "But you've got no business hiring yourself out when you could own your own farm if you went out West somewhere."

A mulish look rose in Jackson's eyes. "This is my home and Liza's. She's got friends and relatives here. We got a baby coming, and she wants to be near her mama. I've got family that will come back here if they ever get out from down South. I mean to go lookin' for them first chance I get. I cain't do any of that if we run away out West somewheres. If you don' want me, I reckon I can look for someone else who will."

Pace talked right over Dora's reassurances. "You're a damn fool to want anything to do with this place. Stay across the river where you'll be safe. If anyone comes looking for you, we'll tell them where to find you."

"They got all the hands they need over there. It ain't like over here. They got just enough land to farm themselves, and they got their sons or a few hired hands to help. I know I'm takin' a risk comin' here, but you and Dora are likely the fairest I could work for."

"It could work, Pace," Dora said anxiously. "The army's saying everyone is free, even if the law doesn't. No one is arresting free blacks anymore. There's too many of them. Jackson is a soldier. The army will look out for its own. He and Liza could stay down at my place. I don't like it being empty."

She hesitated, then offered tentatively, "Perhaps..." She threw a nervous glance to Jackson. "I once said I would rather sell to Jackson than any man around here. I haven't changed my mind any."

Jackson's expression remained stoic. Pace knew as well as Jackson the likelihood of anyone letting a former slave own land. They'd burn the house down before that happened. Neither man wanted to disillusion Dora, but both had reason to want what she wanted.

Pace eased the tension by nodding. "All right. We'll talk about that later. First, we'd best get Jackson settled in with some story that will make it easy for people to accept him living down there."

Jackson relaxed. "That mean I'm hired?"

Pace gave him a scowl. "You never had a doubt, did you? What the hell do I know about farming? You're going to be mule, slave, and manager, all rolled into one. And you're not likely to see a damned cent until the crop comes in. You want the job, you've got it."

Jackson chuckled. "I ain't gonna be no mule. If I'm the one tellin' you what to do, that's your part. There's enough land out there for ten men. We got some fancy work to do." He looked at Dora. "Where's that boy, Solly? He ought to be useful right about now."

"The glitter of gold and brass buttons led him away. You weren't here to talk him out of it. At least the war's over so his mama doesn't have to worry about that."

"Stupid little fool," Jackson muttered, standing up. "White man's army will have him diggin' ditches. He ain't gonna learn nothin' that way. And he's probably fritterin' every penny on drink and women like all the others." He gave Dora an apologetic look. "Sorry, 'bout that. I didn't mean to talk like that in front of you."

Pace was reluctant to rise. He rather liked sitting here with his arm around Dora's shoulders like any normal married couple. The minute they got up from here, they'd go their separate ways again. He wondered briefly if that would ever change, but he could tell Jackson was eager to get back to his own wife. Grudgingly, he stood up to shake his new employee's hand.

"Welcome back, Jackson," Dora murmured as she rose to leave. "It will be good having thee with us again."

Both men waited for her to depart. The moment she left, Jackson threw Pace a shrewd look.

"Liza and me can stay in one of them cabins out back. You and me both know what will happen if we stay down to the house."

Pace shoved his hands in his pockets. "If Dora's willing to sell, I'm willing to cut a deal. I need cash. You've got it squirreled away. We can set it up so you make a down payment and pay the land off over time. I'll give you a proper, witnessed deed that you can keep somewhere safe, bull I'll file the mortgage now. Nobody around here's got enough brains to check courthouse records for mortgages. A legal mortgage properly filed will give you proof of ownership should you ever need it. I'll put out word that Dora hired you back, and you're working the place for her. It's risky as hell, but it might work. Everyone's pretty well accepted that Dora was raised by the Quakers and doesn't think like they do. They won't like it, but they'll buy the story."

Jackson nodded cautiously. "I'll talk to Liza. She already knows we're takin' a risk. I've got enough for a down payment. I'll farm Dora's place in the evenin's to get the cash to pay you the rest. I'll set enough aside for me and Liza to live on until the crops come in this year. We'll just have to agree on the price of Dora's land and what's fair wages for workin' your place."

Pace walked with him to the door. "I figure your wages will have to be a percentage of the crop. When the time comes, I'll have to take your crop in with mine. You know that, don't you? You'd better think hard before you agree to any of this. This town won't be ready for what we're proposing for another hundred years."

Jackson jammed his hat back on as he reached the veranda. "You don' think I been thinkin' of a
nythin'
else every minute of every night and day since I left? I cain't worry myself into the ground no more. I got to reach and take what chances I'm offered. You're offerin'—I'm takin'."

"And I'm damned grateful. I learned to be a lawyer, not a farmer. I've been afraid to tell Dora I figured we couldn't hold out one year on what I know about farming. If I'm going in debt to buy seed corn, then I sure as hell would like to know it will come up and grow when I plant it."

Jackson started down the steps. "If you're lookin' for a sure thing in this business, you got the wrong career, boy. I'll see you soon as I get Liza settled in down to the house tomorrow."

Pace let the door close between them with a mixture of apprehension and hope. For the first time since he'd come home to find the entire burden of the farm dumped on his shoulders, he actually felt hope. It wouldn't last long, but he would nourish it while he could.

He took it upstairs with him that night, after all the house grew quiet. Dora had gone up to feed Frances half an hour earlier. She should be just about ready for bed. He had a need to somehow settle a few things between them. Maybe, somehow, they could start looking for some common ground.

He opened the bedroom door just as Dora slid the yellow gown off her shoulders. He caught his breath as lamplight gleamed like moonshine over silken skin. He'd never seen Dora wearing a corset before. She had her back partially turned toward him, but he could see enough. Her breasts were much fuller than he remembered, round and beckoning for release from their laces. He nearly groaned with the suddenness of his arousal.

He hadn't come in here for this, but the blood rushing from his brain to his groin washed away any memory of his original intentions. She wasn't two steps away from him, and Pace took those steps without conscious thought. He had his arms around her, pulling her back against him before she could register a protest.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" he murmured against her ear.

He could feel her head tilt back and knew those blue eyes looked at him with surprise.

"Thou needn't repeat untruths for my sake," she answered with a faint tone of puzzlement.

Pace firmly held her corseted waist and ran his free hand through the fine curls around her face. "I don't lie when it's easier to keep silent. You look like an angel. Sometimes, you look so ethereal, I forget that you're real." His roving fingers slid downward, finding the flaps that opened so she might feed his daughter. He explored this new contraption with interest when she did nothing to keep his hand from straying.

"I am real. You are being foolish..." She gave a gasp when he succeeded in freeing her breast. "Pace, we cannot. It is too soon."

He looked down at the tiny strawberry-crowned tip and sighed with regret. "I was afraid it might be. I haven't gone this long without a woman since I was a boy. I've about reached the state where I envy Frances."

He registered her shock and managed a slight grin as he met the question in her eyes. "I can't say my intent was to be faithful, Dora. It just happened that way." His gaze grew more serious. He could offer her this, at least. "I made vows, Dora. I intend to keep them. I'll wait until you're ready."

Pace admired the flush across her cheeks as she registered his vow. Some women would prefer that her husband find a mistress and relieve them of their wifely duties. If he knew nothing else about Dora, he knew that wouldn't be her preference. And he was glad. He'd never found real pleasure in paid liaisons, nor in the occasional encounter with women who just wished a night of sex. But he vividly remembered every minute he'd shared with Dora. He prayed she felt the same way.

"I've been told it takes four to six weeks," she whispered in embarrassment, but she didn’t evade his exploring fingers as he loosened her corset completely.

He was hard and aching, and he could feel her breathing grow rapid as he toyed with her nipples. He made this difficult for both of them, but he needed to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"What about babies? I want you fully recovered from this one before we make any more." He couldn't believe he was saying this. His first urge right now was to take her and to hell with the consequences. But his conscience seemed to be winning the inner war for a change.

"She said the chances are less when a woman is nursing."

That seemed preposterous to him. Ladies who didn't nurse but gave their children to slaves for nursing seldom had large broods of children. The colored nurses, however, usually had a dozen. He didn't want to argue, but he knew other methods to protect her.

Four to six weeks, and more than two were already gone. That was something he could count on.

"I'll wait. It might kill me, but it will be worth the waiting." Gently, reluctantly, Pace removed his hands from temptation. "Jackson wants to buy your farm. I want to thank you for making the offer."