Garden of the Moon (19 page)

“Who’s the extra horse for?” she asked when she got close enough to be heard.

His eyes widened at the sight of her breeches, but he said nothing. “Horse fo me, Miss Sara.”

“I’m going alone.” She took the reins of the horse with the standard saddle from Samuel.

“No you isn’t. Yo momma would swoon at the sight of yo in dem pants and yo daddy would skin me alive if he knew I let you ride astride dat horse by yo’self.”

“Momma and Papa aren’t here, Samuel and I’m mistress of this plantation. I’ll decide what I wear when I ride and what horse I’ll ride. Now, help me up.”

“Yas, ‘um. But it ain’t fittin’. No sir, ain’t fittin’ at all.” Shaking his head, Samuel cupped his hands and leaned forward. “Put yo foot here.”

Sara did as he instructed. He hoisted her up, and she settled in the saddle. Taking the reins in her hands, she looked down at him. “I should be back before anyone knows I’m gone.” She started to move away, and then stopped. “If you’re worried about Papa finding out, my advice is…don’t tell him.” She swung the horse away from him and then quickly prodded it into a full gallop and disappeared down the drive.

***

Through some discreet questioning of one of the house servants, Sara had found out that the little cottage Seth Grayson had given Floree when he’d freed her was located on the River Road, half way between Harrogate and Brentwood, the Grayson’s plantation. The girl hadn’t known exactly where, just that it was past the second bend in the river. As Sara passed the second bend, she slowed her horse and scanned her surroundings. Even as careful as she was, she nearly rode right past it.

The little weathered shack in which Floree lived lay nearly hidden by a dense grove of cottonwood trees. Although the rundown house appeared to be something most people would have torn down and used for firewood, the pride the old woman took in having a place to call her own was obvious in the neat, well-kept yard. Wildflowers had been transplanted into a small garden bordering the one rickety stair leading up to the porch. A black and white cow grazed a few feet from the house, and a butter churn and a rocking chair sat side by side near the door, which, though now faded, at one time had been a garish shade of red. White muslin curtains fluttered through the open, glassless windows.

Sara slid from the horse’s back and tied him to one of the oak trees. Glancing around for any sign of life, she made her way to the front door and knocked. The sound of shuffling feet could be heard coming from inside. Moments later, the door opened to reveal a small, slender black woman with snowy hair pulled back in a tight bun and several teeth missing from her welcoming smile.

But very quickly, the smile melted like hot wax. Her eyes grew large and fearful. Color drained from her face. Mouth agape, she clamped a hand to her breast and took a step back. “Lord Almighty!”

Sara didn’t have to wonder what had caused Floree to look so startled. The day she and Julie had attended the birthing, Sara hadn’t gone inside the cabin where the midwife was attending the new mother, so Floree had never seen her. Now, face to face, the poor woman had to think she was gazing at Maddy Grayson’s ghost.

“Floree, it’s Sara Wade from Harrogate.” She waited for her words to sink in. “Alice Wade’s granddaughter.”

“You’re not—”

Sara smiled kindly. “No, I’m not Maddy’s ghost. I just look a lot like her.”

“Enough to be more her twin than Katherine,” Floree stated emphatically, her color slowly returning to her cheeks.

Sara was suddenly struck by what good English Floree spoke. When she’d gone back in time, the woman had spoken with the same broken patois of Raina and Chloe. “You speak so…”

“Good?” Floree finished for her. “Miss Katherine said she didn’t like my
darky
talk. Said she couldn’t understand that gibberish. So she talked her daddy into letting me have lessons to learn English. Course, it had to be done in secret, ‘cause it’s against the law to teach any Nigra anything but how to pick cotton or clean a house. I got so used to speaking proper to keep her from flying into one of her fits, that pretty soon it was as natural to me as falling off a log.” Then without further explanation, she opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Don’t suppose you came here to stand on the porch and talk. Come in and sit. I’ll make us some tea.”

While Floree bustled about getting their tea ready, Sara watched her and marveled at her agility. She had to be in her eighties or even her nineties. For a woman of her advanced years, she was in remarkably good health. And her little house was immaculate. No dirt on the floor. Clean curtains and a colorful patchwork quilt neatly covering the single bed in the corner of the one room.

Suddenly, Floree began to chuckle to herself, and then she turned to Sara. “I remember your grandma riding astride across the fields in breeches just like those. Hair blowing loose in the wind. A big smile on her face. Horse just about flying across the ground. Lord, but she was a sight to behold.” Her smile deepened. “Scandalized all the ladies on the neighbor plantations to within an inch of their lives, she did.”

“The breeches are hers, and, just between us, I think she secretly enjoyed shocking them almost as much as she enjoyed riding that horse.” They both laughed. Sara found she liked Floree a lot. With Floree’s quick wit and ready smile, she couldn’t understand how Katherine had been so disagreeable with the woman.

“Yes, she sure enough did. She was a fine lady, your grandma.” Floree sighed deeply and her shoulders slumped, as though the memories were too heavy for her to bear. Then she shrugged and finished preparing their drinks. “You drink this, and you’ll feel like a new woman.”

She set a cracked cup in front on Sara and placed another one on the other side of the table for herself. No doubt the China was castoffs from the big house, but she could see that Floree prized them as though they’d just arrived on the boat from Europe’s best china maker. Then she lowered her body slowly into the chair.

“Now, child, what is it that brings you to visit an old, Nigra lady on a fine day such as this?”

Unsure, now that she was here, of what she’d come for, Sara stalled for time by sipping her tea, surprised at the hint of peppermint in it. “This is delicious.”

Floree smiled. “Knew you’d like it. It was Miss Maddy’s favorite.”

“I’m not Ma—”

Floree grinned. “You sure?”

No, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But even so, Floree’s question took her by surprise. However, she gave Sara no time to think about it.

Floree nodded. “Now what is it you want to know?”

For some reason, Sara relaxed. “Tell me about Maddy and Katherine.”

For a moment, it was if Floree hadn’t heard her. Memories clouded her eyes. “I was just five when they were born. I wasn’t there for the birthin’, but I got to hold them later. Two beautiful little girls. Missus was so happy. After the births, Master sold the gal who attended Miss Grayson at the birth to a fella from Tennessee, and then he rode right off to the Bradford’s to let them know their future daughter-in-law had been born. Before he left, he and the missus had some angry words. Missus didn’t say anything, but you could tell she didn’t like the idea of the betrothal. She said babies need time to be babies, but Master had made a promise, and he was honor bound to keep it. Miss Katherine would marry Jonathan Bradford.”

Sara knew most of that. She wanted to hear something Clarice hadn’t already told her. “What about when they got older?”

Floree shook her head. “I should have knowed when they were babies what we’d be in for with the two of them. Miss Maddy was as sweet a baby as the good Lord ever put on this here earth. Smiled and cooed and just loved everybody. Miss Katherine was just plain cantankerous. Colicky, didn’t sleep more’n an hour or two at a time, didn’t want nobody but her momma to hold her.” Floree shook her head and made a
tsking
sound with her tongue. “That one sure was a handful. Yup, she sure enough was.”

She refreshed their tea. “And she got worse as she got older. I never saw anybody hate another person like she hated her sister.” She stopped talking and stared hard at Sara. “But I don’t need to tell you that, do I? You got the sight, don’t you? Just like your grandma.” Floree didn’t seem frightened by this revelation. As a matter of fact, she seemed pleased.

Sara didn’t hesitate to affirm Floree’s statement. “Yes, I do. How did you know?”

The old freewoman smiled knowingly. “Cause we have a look about
us
, don’t
we
?’

“We?” Sara’s mouth fell open. “You’re…” Floree simply smiled and nodded. Was that why she wouldn’t go inside the big house? “Have you seen Katherine’s ghost?”

“I don’t need to see her. I know she’s there. I can feel her when I go inside that house.” She shivered. “That woman’s as evil dead as she ever was alive.” She shook her long finger at Sara. “What with you looking like Miss Maddy, you best be careful.”

Memories of her run-ins with Katherine sent a chill down Sara’s spine. She nodded, not about to go into all that had happened in past weeks. “I will, but I need you to tell me if you know anything about a letter that Katherine wrote to Maddy and what happened to it.”

Floree stiffened. “I know Miss Katherine wrote a letter when she was in the Ursuline Convent, ‘cause I delivered it to Miss Maddy. She said I was to give it to only Miss Maddy, that it was a secret that only Miss Maddy could know. I did what she told me, but I don’t know where it is now.”

“The Ursuline Convent?” Somehow, Sara had a hard time believing that someone like Katherine had turned religious and become a nun. “What was she doing there?”

Floree lowered her gaze and shook her head slowly. “It’s not a pretty tale, Miss Sara. Nope. Not pretty at all.” Floree took a deep fortifying breath. “After Mr. Jonathan was killed, Miss Katherine started drinking heavy, that green stuff, abs…absin.

“Absinthe?”

“Yes. Seems the more she drank the worse she got until she went a little…” Floree stopped talking and tapped her finger against her temple. “Her Papa finally sent the poor thing off to the Convent. I think it was to hide his shame about having someone in their family who wasn’t right. He sent me to see to her. That’s why he give me this house and set me free—to thank me for taking care of his child. He told everyone she’d got that yellow jack fever and had to be nursed by the nuns.” She shook her head as though to clear her thoughts. “She was there for nearly three years before she died. But just before she passed on to glory, she wrote the letter and made me swear to take it to her sister.”

“You don’t know what the letter said?”

“No. I just delivered it. No telling what it said.” Floree frowned thoughtfully. “Lord only knows, she never told me, but I was sure it was just one more evil thing she was bent on doing before she died. Even then she couldn’t leave poor Miss Maddy alone.”

Floree’s explanation did nothing to either help Sara find the letter or hint at what could have been in it that made it so important for her to read. What was the secret that Katherine wanted only Maddy to know?

Chapter 16

Sara was beginning to feel like a member of the newly-formed Pinkerton Detective Agency she’d heard about. The problem was, they probably got answers, whereas the more she knew and discovered, the worse her dilemma seemed to get and the more unanswered questions she was faced with.

Floree knew about the letter, had even delivered it, but had no idea what it contained. Though she hadn’t thought so at first, Sara was beginning to believe now that there was something in it vital to her solving this puzzle.

Mentally and physically exhausted, she arrived home only to be met by an indignant Raina who, though she didn’t say it, was visibly upset that Sara had not only left the house dressed in breeches, but also went riding without an escort. Julie just snickered behind the maid’s back. Probably because she knew whatever Raina could say would do no good. Too tired to give the maid the satisfaction of an explanation, Sara went straight to her room and changed for dinner.

Later, after dinner, while she and Julie sat on the veranda sipping Chloe’s strong Creole coffee, Sara was not surprised when Julie began to question her about where she’d been all day.

“I went to talk to Floree about that letter Papa told me about.”

“And?”

“Nothing. She knew about it and even delivered it to Maddy, but she has no idea what’s in it.”

For a long time Julie said nothing. Then finally she turned in her chair and faced Sara. “Why don’t you give up this whole business about Jonathan and Maddy and Katherine? It’s done nothing but disrupt your life, put you in danger, and keep you so focused on it that you can’t concentrate on anything else.”

“I wish I could. I’ve truly tried, but I can’t.” She took Julie’s hand and squeezed it. “Have you ever been in love? I don’t mean just an infatuation. I mean really, truly in love.”

Julie shook her head, and Sara saw a fleeting sadness come into her eyes. “No.”

“It’s unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. Like living in another world where everything centers around the person you love. Every thought, every move, every moment of every day is filled to overflowing with them. I wake up thinking about Jonathan, and I go to sleep thinking about him.” Her cheeks grew warm, and she dipped her head to hide her blush from Julie. “I know, since he’s a ghost, that it’s crazy, but I don’t feel like he’s a ghost. To me he’s as real as you are.”

Julie sighed. “But that’s just it, Sara. He’s not real, at least not in the sense of being alive. What kind of future will you have loving him? You won’t be able to have children. You certainly can’t introduce—”

Sara sprang to her feet. “I know all that,” she said hotly, more angered at the truth of Julie’s words than at Julie. “I know all that,” she repeated more calmly. “But it doesn’t change anything. I still love him.”

How could she explain to Julie that Jonathan was as much a part of her as the air she breathed? That she could no more forget him than she could forget to take her next breath.