The Kitchen House (40 page)

“I do, Papa,” she said.

“Why, our Miss Abinia, she old as those hills.” He laughed.

I made a face at Papa. “I’ll be twenty years old this May,” I told Sukey.

“Ohhh.” Sukey was impressed, and both Papa and I laughed at her reaction.

“I wonder if Miss Abinia too old to learn to ride,” Papa teased, leading a small horse from the barn. “This Barney,” he said to me.

Barney was a small bay gelding, just the right size for me. I pulled back when he nudged me with his soft nose, but I relaxed when Papa George explained that the horse was only seeking a treat. Tentatively, I stroked Barney’s head and remarked on the white blaze that was almost covered by his long dark forelock. When the horse stomped his foot and shook his long mane, Papa explained that he was eager to begin our lesson. Once we did so, Barney proved a patient horse, and I was smitten with him before my first lesson was complete.

Marshall was pleased by my enthusiasm for riding. He insisted that I order for myself the latest riding clothes, and I agreed, requesting that Sukey be outfitted as well. To my surprise, Marshall did not object.

Measurements for our riding habits were sent off, and when the packages arrived from Williamsburg, Sukey was almost overcome with excitement. She had chosen a fine blue petticoat and a matching jacket trimmed with a black velvet collar. The jacket had double rows of gilt buttons, and Mama Mae, Fanny, and I watched them sparkle when she twirled. She wore a black hat with a gold chain around the brim, topped with a high blue feather set to the front. Her riding habit was complete after she tied the half boots of black leather and pulled on leather gloves.

My new clothes were very similar in fashion, although they were green. I had a second plume added to my hat, and around my neck, I tied a white silk cravat. I must say, the two of us did look smart our first morning in mid-May when Papa gave us permission to ride out alone together.

From that day forward, with Elly safely in Fanny’s care, we went out almost every day. We each sported a vasculum; I had ordered one for Sukey, justifying it as necessary equipment for our botanical excursions. Inside hers, Sukey proudly tucked a leather-bound sketchbook. She was becoming an accomplished artist, able to draw a true likeness of people, and I hoped she might have the
same success while sketching trees and capturing their specific properties for Meg’s use. On our return from these excursions, we brought our bounty back to the library, researched and cataloged the specimens, and added them to our growing collection.

As spring unfolded, I began to have a renewed interest in life. I loved nothing more than to ride out, but I never lost sight of my true goal. I waited patiently for the right opportunity when I might safely visit Belle. Finally, at the end of May, Marshall left the farm for a day. He was off to a town some two hours away, and when I learned that he planned to take the wagon, I knew he would not be back before nightfall.

Papa alone knew of my plan. Sukey had the sniffles, and I used this as an excuse for her not to ride with me that day. Mama met me in the blue room. It was early, before breakfast, and Jamie was still asleep. He did not wake when I clipped a lock of his hair. Out in the hallway, Mama watched as I curled it inside a locket and dropped that into my jacket pocket. She peered at me. “Where you goin’, chil’?”

I would not lie to her, yet I would not involve her. I hugged her. “I’m going riding, Mama,” I said.

“Masta Marshall say you not go out on that horse by yourself,” she scolded.

“Mama,” I said, “I’m going.”

“You be careful, chil’,” Mama whispered, “stay in those trees.”

Papa was waiting. I was frustrated when I saw he had saddled Barney. “Oh, Papa,” I said, “I need a faster horse.”

“This horse know you. He get you there, and he get you back, and you stay in one piece,” Papa said, and I knew there was no use arguing. “You follow that stream, like I say. Stay in the trees and take it slow. Ben watchin’ for you.” He handed me a riding crop. “Use this if you needs to,” he said, “and the Lawd ride with you.”

I set off at a trot, intoxicated by my freedom. My little horse moved quickly, and his surefootedness enabled me to look around as I rode. Nature was at its most lush, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful.

I had been riding for what seemed a short time when, up ahead, I heard the sound of a horse and rider. My heart thudded until a voice called out, “It jus’ me, Abinia,” and I recognized Ben’s voice.

“Ben!” I called, and we laughed aloud as we rode toward each other. Our horses danced as we greeted, and we soon broke through the trees into a large clearing. To the front of it, I scarcely noted the large house still under construction. Neither did I give attention to the large finished barn standing farther down in the clearing. What had my interest was the small clapboard kitchen house and the familiar figure standing next to it.

As Ben led the way, Belle ran toward us. Our reunion was bittersweet, for I did not have her son. Instead, I presented a drawing, a close likeness of Jamie, which Sukey had done recently. Then I gave Belle my gold locket that held her son’s hair, and I told her how I had cut it but an hour previous. I put my arms around her when she fingered this treasure, and as she cried, I felt her suffering. Only later, when we talked, after no detail of Jamie had been left unanswered, did I ask her about herself.

She missed all of us so, she said.

Was Lucy, Ben’s wife, not a favorable companion? I asked.

Belle said yes, but though they were close, Lucy was not Mama.

“And Ben?” I asked. “Do you see much of Ben?”

Curiously, she evaded the answer.

“Does Will Stephens have help other than Ben?” I asked, trying to remember if I had seen quarters.

“Yes,” she said, “he got four new men. He’s wanting a big farm, and the way he works, he’s gonna have it.”

“Is he good to you?” I asked.

“He’s a good man, but I’m his property.”

I did not know how to respond, acutely aware that through my husband, I owned people as well. Belle continued, “Will brings me here, but I’m not a free woman.”

I took a deep breath. “Belle, I thought you loved Will. I… I thought he was Jamie’s father.”

“Ben told me what you was thinking.”

I was embarrassed and looked at the floor.

“Will always helped me, Lavinia, nothing more. He never came at me like that.”

Then I asked for the truth about Jamie. Belle hesitated. “Marshall’s his daddy. That all I’m gonna say. You’re married to the man now, so you got to let this go.”

“But now he’s after Beattie!” There! It was said. What I had come here to confide. I burst into tears. Belle reached for me and let me cry, but once released, my tears wouldn’t stop. When I could speak, I told her about the misery of my marriage, of Marshall’s drinking and his deceit, and of my resentment toward Beattie. When Belle spoke on Beattie’s behalf, she angered me.

“So you think she does not encourage him, that she does not enjoy his gifts?” I asked.

Belle was firm with me. Did I forget that Beattie had no choice? Marshall owned her.

“But he owns me as well!” I said.

“Yes, but you picked that,” she said. “Beattie don’t get to pick nothing except to figure out how she’s best gonna handle this.” I stared ahead, not meeting her eyes, fighting the truth. Belle spoke softly. “You know what I’m thinking, Lavinia? I’m thinking that you’re mad with Beattie ’cause you can’t get mad with Marshall.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I know this ’cause I got something here that’s almost the same thing.”

I looked at her.

“When you was away in Williamsburg, Ben and me got together. I’m not saying it’s wrong or right, it’s just the way it happens. For a long time, I don’t like Lucy. She’s this, she’s that, and I’m saying all this to myself so I don’t have to see that she’s hurting, too. Turns out she’s a better woman than me. She set aside her bad feelings when they took my Jamie.”

I was shocked. I had always guessed that Ben and Belle cared for each other, but that they acted on it … “Do you still …” I stopped, astonished that I should ask such a personal question.

“Yes,” Belle answered frankly. “Lucy and me, we work it out. She
loves Ben, same as me. She gives him three boys. They’re all good boys, too.”

“But what about—” Again I hesitated, and again Belle guessed at what I referenced.

“First, Ida gives me something so I don’t get caught with no baby. Then, after Jamie’s gone and I’m wanting a baby of Ben’s, nothing happens. Now, Lucy’s little George, he’s like my own. Most nights he sleeps here.” She nodded at a wooden cradle in the corner where, draped over the side, was a small patchwork quilt made of red and blue squares. We talked further as Belle set out some food. “Come, child,” she said, “come, eat something.”

I was surprised at my enormous appetite until I realized that I felt a burden had been lifted: Belle’s strange circumstances somehow made me feel less alone in mine. We were finishing when Ben came to the door to remind me that it was soon time to leave. The horses were ready, and he would travel part of the way back with me. He left to give us a few minutes alone, and soon after, there was another short rap on the door. Thinking it was Ben, Belle called for him to enter. When the door opened, Will Stephens stood framed in the sunlight. I had not spoken to him since his visit to Williamsburg, and my pounding heart told me that my feelings toward him had only grown. Belle invited him in, and he removed his hat as he strode toward me. Flustered by his smile, I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“Miss Lavinia,” he said, nodding at me, “we meet again.”

“Mr. Stephens,” I answered, returning his nod.

“You are well?” he asked.

I reached for Belle’s hand. “Yes, I am.”

“I understand you are leaving. Must you go so soon?” he said.

To my embarrassment, I burst into tears and quickly turned my face.

“I’ll bring her out soon as she’s ready,” Belle said to Will. After he left, she used a handkerchief to dry my eyes.

“I can’t go back!” I cried, clinging to her. “I can’t bear to go back to him.”

“You know you got to go,” she said. “Elly’s needing you. And you got to watch out for Jamie.”

Reality sobered me, and I gathered myself again. Outside, I was surprised to see Will Stephens sitting astride Ben’s horse. “I thought I might ride out with you,” he said.

I hugged Belle good-bye. Ben smiled when he helped me up on Barney. “You ride real good,” he said. “Papa say you good with the horse.”

“I love to ride,” I said, patting Barney’s neck, then turning him toward home. I waved a final good-bye, but as we rode off, to my own astonishment, I began to cry again. It felt a wall had come down; exposed and vulnerable, I did not want to leave this safe place. Will took my horse’s reins from me and led us forward.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to stop crying,” I said when I could speak.

“Then you go ahead and cry,” Will said.

That ended my weeping. Had he asked me not to cry, I would not have been able to stop, but his permission somehow quit my tears. In a short while, I asked for the reins.

Will spoke first. “You are not happy, then?”

I shook my head.

He pulled in front of me and reined in his horse. “Lavinia …” he began, then stopped himself.

Unable to speak, I took in his every feature.

“Belle told me that you thought she and I … that Jamie …” he said.

“Yes,” I answered, “I did believe that.”

“Lavinia,” he asked, “how could you ever think that?”

“I was young,” I said by way of explanation.

He surprised me with a hearty laugh. “And now, at nineteen, you consider yourself old?”

“I’m already twenty,” I informed him.

“Well”—he laughed again—“that certainly makes the difference.”

“Will Stephens! Are you suggesting that you still think of me as a child?”

He disarmed me with gentle words. “I think of you as a beautiful young woman who has the heart of a child.”

Well! What does one reply to that? I said nothing, but with his tenderness, my tears began once again. Will dismounted, then reached up for me. “Lavinia,” he said, his arms inviting me down. I slipped into his embrace, and he kissed me then, as I did him. We continued until I was awakened to a passion that I had never before experienced. I wanted only to continue, to give myself up, so when he stopped, I pleaded for more. Yet he held me away.

“No, Lavinia.” He stepped back. “This is too dangerous, and it can lead nowhere.” I began to sob. He looked at me helplessly. “You are married, Lavinia!”

I turned from him. He was a coward! If he loved me, he would declare himself and offer a solution to the madness of my marriage. In fury and despair, I managed to mount my horse, and before Will could object, I slapped Barney’s rump with my crop until he leaped away.

Will did not follow.

Belle

T
HAT LITTLE
G
EORGE IS THE
light of my life. He’s got the face of Benny, and he’s got the dimples of Beattie. Lucy and me, we never hear him cry. Oh, there’s times he fusses to eat, but he don’t care who’s holding him, Lucy or me. He looks for me the same way he looks for Lucy. Lucy don’t care, she’s only too happy to hand him over. In some ways, I got to say, I love this child as much as I love my boy Jamie. I don’t know how this happens, but just when I’m needing something, this little fat baby shows up. I can’t get enough of holding and kissing him. Lucy and Ben laugh and say, “What got over you? You don’t pay no mind to the other boys?” They’re right. I just fall in love with this one, and that be that.