Simply Heaven (17 page)

"Who doesn't?" Lisbeth smiled at her. "That's a lovely idea."

Mariah looked to Julius. "Are you sure there isn't a special lady friend you'd care to invite?" She was anxious to see them both married and raising a family, so the mansion would come alive with the laughter of children.

"No, Mariah, I'm afraid it will just be the three of us, since Master Ned doesn't come downstairs anymore."

"That's true, that's true," Mariah said with a sympathetic shake of her head. "He's just wastin' away. It's like he's gone to bed to die. If only Mr. Steve would come back, that might cheer him up, but don't nobody know where he's gone, and if Master Ned knows he ain't saying."

Julius exchanged a knowing glance with Lisbeth. "Well, it doesn't matter. We'll enjoy your chicken. Maybe you'd better tell that boy of yours to wring an extra neck."

Mariah had gone to the serving cart where she had left a bowl of cream for the peaches. Now, looking toward the road, she let out a whoop of joy. "One extra chicken won't be enough. I'm gonna tell him to wring three necks, maybe four!"

Julius laughed. "Barley doesn't eat
that
much."

"But Mister Steve does. And as long as he's been gone, he's bound to be starved for my cooking."

Lisbeth and Julius looked at each other, not understanding, and when she turned and ran for the door, Julius called after her, "What's got into you, Mariah?"

She kept on going. "It's Mr. Steve. He's coming up the road."

They started to get up at the same time, collided, and fell back in their chairs. They tried again, only to have the same thing happen. Then, hearing Mariah's last words they slumped back and paled.

"Looks like he's got somebody with him too, a young lady. I'll just bet that boy's finally done gone and found himself a wife."

"Sit," Julius commanded Lisbeth brusquely, holding her as she started to rise. "We can't go rushing out there like maniacs. We have to calm down and think about this."

"Think about
what?"
She stared at him in horror. "If he's got a woman with him, she's not his wife, and we both know it. He's found her, that's what he's done. He's found Ned's bastard!"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"But—"

"Let me think, please."

"There's nothing to think about. Don't you see? She's
here."
She grabbed his arm. "And we've got to do something fast!"

"Well, I'm afraid the only thing we can do for the moment is walk out there and act properly surprised when we're introduced to our stepsister and try to be polite till we figure out what we're going to do about it."

A horrible thought struck Lisbeth. "She's an imposter. She has to be. When he couldn't find Ned's real daughter, he got someone to pretend to be her. Then, when Ned dies, she'll divide everything with Steve. It's a scheme, don't you see? They'll kick us out and have everything. We've got to stop him."

"Steve is too smart to try something like that."

"But what if it
is
her? What if Steve persuades her to marry him, so
he'll
be the one to inherit everything? I wouldn't put it past him."

"We'll talk about it later. There's no time now. Let's go. Remember what I said and don't make a scene."

Doggedly, she knew she had no choice but to follow after him.

* * *

Raven was sitting ramrod straight, clenching her teeth and praying her clasped hands would not start shaking as she and Steve drew ever closer to the grandest house she had ever seen. The father she had loathed and resented as long as she could remember was in that house, she thought with a flash of panic. She was about to meet him face-to-face, and though she'd had weeks to prepare for it, she was still not ready. What could she say? What was there
to
say—that she hated him? That she didn't care if he lived or died and wanted nothing from him and never had? Could she be that vindictive? She had always thought so but was now uncertain.

Steve slowed the horses to a walk, and Raven looked at him quizzically.

He cleared his throat, pushed his hat back from his forehead, looked at her long, hard, and searchingly, and finally said, "It won't hurt you to be easy on him, Raven. Hate can be like a poison, eating away at you inside. You'll feel a lot better later on if you let him make peace now."

"But you're going to make me stay till he dies. Maybe I could pretend for a few days, but—"

He cut her off, "Look, I'm surprised he's lasted this long, and I'm sure the only reason is because he's been clinging to the hope that I'd be able to find you. It means everything to him."

"But he's going to think the only reason I came was because you told me about my inheritance."

"So what if he does? Ned is no fool. He's got sense enough to know you wouldn't exactly be jumping with joy at the idea of meeting him after the way things happened."

Bitterness stirred in her. "He just wants me to make him feel good. That's why he sent money all those years, to ease his conscience, like my mother said."

"Damn it, Raven, you have got to be the most stubborn filly I have ever run across in my entire life. You don't know that's why he did it. Maybe he felt a genuine responsibility for both you and your mother. Oh, to hell with it"—he popped the reins to start the carriage rolling—"I just hope you've got enough decency not to beat a dead horse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's pointless for you to condemn him for something he's probably already suffered for more than you and I will ever know. But if that's what you want to do, I can't stop you. And I suppose if you really make him miserable, I'll be glad to let you ride out.

"But for the time you're here," he added hesitantly, as though uncomfortable with the words, "I want you to know I'll be around should you need me."

"That's... nice," she managed to say around the sudden lump in her throat.

"And there's something else."

She dared not ask him what it was.

"What happened between us on the trail..."

"Yes?" she prodded, burning to know what was on his mind.

"No hard feelings." He flashed a broad grin. "We'll forget about it, all right?" Lord, he thought, heat rising within, he hoped she didn't notice how his voice shook a little and how he was trying his best to cover up what he was really feeling. But something had to be said. They had experienced a lot of crazy emotions along the way, some of which would doubtless nag him for a long time... maybe forever. He had never met anybody like her before and knew, somehow, he never would again.

Raven managed to say she agreed, careful to keep her face turned away. When they'd first met, she had refrained from looking at him lest he see something to make him suspect she might not be a boy after all. Now she could only pray he would not see she was more of a woman than she'd ever been, and he alone was the reason why.

"Those people standing on the porch," she said nervously. "Who are they?"

"That's Julius and Lisbeth, and the Negro woman is Mariah. She's been their mammy since they were born. She's also the housekeeper."

"Mammy?" Raven was confused. "You mean like a mother?"

"Sort of. She took care of them, wet-nursed them. Don't Indian women nurse each other's babies?"

"Only if the baby's mother dies, or has no milk. Was that why she nursed them?"

Steve hesitated. Raven was naive about so many things, and while sometimes he found it refreshing, she could also make him feel damned uncomfortable. Like now, when she was waiting for him to explain about mammies. Since this was all a new world to her, a new culture, he figured she had a right to have her questions answered, albeit on a delicate subject. "Well, the truth is, some women would rather not nurse their babies themselves. So if they're wealthy enough to have slaves, they get one who has a nursing baby of her own to feed theirs, too."

"But why?" Raven persisted.

"Different reasons. They're too busy, some of them. Others, I've heard, fear it will ruin their, uh"—again he faltered—"shape. And they don't want to be disturbed during the night. Things like that. So they let slave women do it for them."

Raven was appalled. "I think that's terrible. I can't imagine an Indian woman handing over her baby to another woman to feed just because she's busy or worried about her shape." She made a face. "I'll probably never get married and have babies, but if I did, I'd never let anyone else nurse my baby unless it was absolutely necessary."

With a surreptitious glance at her ample bosom, Steve secretly doubted she'd have a problem. "Well, it might be best if you keep your opinions about such things to yourself."

"It doesn't matter anyway," she retorted grumpily. "I won't be here long enough for it to matter what I think."

Mariah could wait no longer. She lifted her gray skirt and petticoats so she wouldn't trip and ran down the steps. She loved Mister Steve and got down on her knees every night, praying he would stay at Halcyon after Master Ned passed on. He was good and kind and all the slaves loved him, and maybe if the pretty young thing sitting next to him was his wife it meant he was going to settle down.

"Thank the good Lord you're back, Mister Steve," she called as the carriage finally rolled to a stop. "We've missed you so much."

"And I've missed you, Mariah." He avoided looking at Julius and Lisbeth. There was no telling what they were thinking right then, probably that he had brought home a wife. But they would have to wonder awhile, because he planned to leave it to Ned to tell them about their stepsister.

He lifted Raven down from the carriage. He could tell she was nervous. "Just remember what I told you," he said, so low that no one else could hear. "I'll be around if you need me."

"I'll remember," she murmured, thinking how his touch was always reassuring, his nearness calming.

She smoothed her skirt, swallowed hard, took a deep breath, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

Steve waited till they reached the porch. Then, steeling himself, he announced, "I've brought someone to see your stepfather. He can make the introductions later." He paused, wondering how the hell he was supposed to present her, then simply said—"This is Raven."

Chapter 13

Her hair was the color of midnight. That puzzled Ned. He had always thought angels had golden hair. And he had to be dead and seeing an angel, because when he had been shot, a fire exploded in his chest and blood seemed to be everywhere. There had been scant seconds of consciousness, filled with indescribable anguish, just long enough for him to offer a prayer of contrition. Then he had faded away. He was sure he had died and the beautiful young woman bending over him was receiving him into heaven, and he was relieved to have mercifully achieved salvation.

Ned stirred, smiling in his sleep as his dreams continued to take him to happier times.

When he had finally rallied from his delirium, weak from loss of blood, he had realized Lakoma was an angel only in the true sense of the word and had then proceeded to fall in love with her as she nursed him back to health.

She had spoken a few words of English, and he taught her more, but eventually the omnipotent language of love stripped away any barriers of communication that remained between them.

She had found him slumped on his horse, which had lumbered along to take him many miles from the battle site at San Jacinto. Days blended into weeks, weeks faded into months, but he hadn't cared about the passing of time, for each moment spent with Lakoma was a kind of heaven all its own. He never knew he could be so happy.

But then the message from home reached him: his mother was dying. He had to go back to Alabama. And in his dream he was holding Lakoma against him, saying good-bye and promising to return.

"I fear you will not come back to me," she whispered. "I feel I will not see you again until you cross the rainbow bridge." Ned asked her what she was talking about, and she told him of the tale handed down by her people. "They believe the rainbow is actually the bridge to the spirit world, and those we love who have gone before us will be waiting to take our hand and lead us across. If you do not come back to me, I will despise you with every breath I draw in this life, but if our love is true, no matter what happens, we will one day meet on that bridge and be together for all eternity."