Hope Reborn (17 page)

“Bonnie Claire. She might be the most like me.” He tossed a forkful of hay over the stall wall to the horse. “She was only two when her mama went to Heaven. I loved on her as much as possible.”

“You never say Sue died, Henry. Always that she passed or crossed over, went home to the Lord. Have you accepted her death?”

He stared at her.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me. That was much too personal. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have
–
”

“She isn’t dead, May. Only her body died. Sue’s in Heaven.”

Oh, dear gracious, she shouldn’t have asked, should have known. Poor man, he couldn’t accept his wife’s demise and didn’t even know it.

What an ignorant superstition that caused a person to believe a soul lives on. And what a contradiction; he was so intelligent in other areas.

“I see.” But May lied, she really didn’t see, not at all. “Here’s what I don’t know. If I can write this story, I want to, but.…”

“Why couldn’t you?”

“I’m not certain if
I can stand you and Sue being together again.” She stared at the ground. “You giving your heart to her.”

“Are you jealous, May?”

Her cheeks warmed. She looked him square in the eye. “That’s a silly question. Of course I’m jealous! I hated it when legally single Lizbeth put her hand on you. And I loved it when you removed it.”

“But, May –”

“Of course, I am. You call her ‘my Sue’. What woman wouldn’t be?”

“But she’s gone. It’s been six years now. What’s there to be jealous of?”

“That’s my whole point. If I write your story, with her, I guarantee I’ll bring her to back to life—at least on the page. Certainly in my mind. I could end up hating her, and I don’t want to.”

Tears welled. He’d think she was a crybaby. She tried to blink them away.

He threw up both palms out toward her. “Hold it. That Henry and that Sue have nothing to do with you and me. What happened then has no bearing on us today.

“If you want to write about Levi, then I think you need to start with Sue and me.” He reached out and wiped both her cheeks. He had such a light touch. “She’s a part of me. She’ll always be my babies’ mother, but she’s gone.”

He took her hand. “I fulfilled my vow, ‘til death do us part. And if you and I ever walk the aisle, I’ll fulfill my vow to you.”

She wanted to believe him. He said just the right things, and it all sounded so good and right. “How can you say that?

“May, listen. Even at the funeral, the unattached women let me know in various and sundry ways, that they wanted me to come courting’, but I wasn’t interested.”

“At the funeral?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s deplorable.”

“I thought so. Over the years, I’ve given it some thought. For sure, I don’t like sleeping by myself. But not a one of them came close to my Sue. No one had, not until I laid eyes on you.”

She adored his declarations as much as the sound of his voice. Both soothed her soul. If he wasn’t for real, could she just live forever in the fantasy she’d discovered in Texas?

Maybe she needed to hear the whole story from him—start to finish—and bring his dead wife back to life. Perhaps then she could see for herself whether he was truly over Sue or not.

But what if he wasn’t? She’d hate it, but she had to know.

She nodded. “All right then. You and the girls have convinced me. But I want to hear it all from you. When and where would you care to start?”

“Right now? In the library?”

“You have a library?”

“Yes, ma’am. I didn’t build this place for Sue alone.”

Henry waved her away. “Go get your pen and ink. I’ll meet you in the entry hall in, say, fifteen minutes?”

“That’ll do.” She turned and walked back toward the house.

He watched her until she disappeared outside the barn’s mid door, enjoying every step and the way her skirt swung side to side like the pendulum on the grandfather clock he had shipped from London.

He missed having a woman who belonged to him. Oh, he had the girls—his daughters, Rose, Laura, and Mammy—but he wanted a wife. He wanted Millicent May Meriwether.

He tossed one more forkful of hay then hurried to his library. Immediately went to grabbling newspapers and straightening his desk. Good thing the girls took turns sneaking in and cleaning for him even though the room was off limits.

Once satisfied, he scooted out to the bottom of the stairs. He pulled his pocket watch out and flipped it open. He hadn’t marked the time, but it sure seemed like more than fifteen minutes already.

Petticoats rustled. He stepped back and watched her float down the stairs. Houston was right. She could be an angel. Maybe her crinoline holding her skirt so far out made her seem to move like a cloud. Whatever it was, he loved it.

Taking her valise, he extended his elbow. She looped her hand through and laid it on his arm. That was where she belonged. At his side, leaning on him, counting on him.

He escorted her down the hall into his inner sanctum. The desire to usher her all the way through the final door was overwhelming, but he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He wanted her as his forever soul mate, not a temporary tryst.

She glanced at the closed door. “Where does that lead?”

“My bedroom.”

She strolled back toward the open door that lead to the hall and put her hand on the knob.

“Don’t.”

She twirled and faced him. “Why not? I prefer it to be quiet when I work.” She smiled as demurely as he’d ever seen. “Your abode, dear man, gets pretty loud at times.”

“But.” He smiled. “We must abstain from all appearances of impropriety.”

May appreciated his honor and integrity.

He pointed to the desk chair and nodded. “Sit there, I’ll take the wingback.”

She eased into his chair. Fit her fine, almost as well as her own back home. He plopped down on the plush chair across from the desk. With paper straightened, inkwell opened, and feather-tickled chin, she looked up and smiled. “I’m ready. Sure hope this is the right thing to do.”

“It is.”

She wished she shared his confidence, but wasn’t nearly as certain. Especially since she’d already told him too much, the secrets of her heart and experience—or lack thereof—things Chester didn’t even know.

Did she truly want to hear all the intimate details of his life with Sue?  

He commenced his telling. Jotting down key phrases and ideas, she mostly committed the word pictures he painted to memory. After what seemed like an hour or better, he finally got to Sue showing up.

The man certainly chased a lot of rabbits and gave her way too much detail and back story. Heading off again on a trapping story, he paused, and she stopped him.

“Wait. So there you are at your cabin, your mother’s been gone three months, and you’re washing bois d’arc seeds and curing your hides, minding your own business when Sue rides into your life.

“I love Rebecca’s name for your fortune. Hiding it in your honey was genius. Exactly how much honey money and jewels had you stashed in those jars?”

“I don’t know. I kept buying mother jewelry, but she’d never wear it. We’d both been saving gold coin forever.” He waved his hand around the room. “The foundation for all this. Could’ve been ten thousand, maybe more.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, never counted.”

“Interesting.” So well off he didn’t know how much money he had. The Wall Street crowd would have a conniption fit. “Please, do go on.”

And continue he did, right up to dinner, the most excellent gumbo she’d ever eaten. Mammy also served a delicious potato soup—May only took a taste—to the little ones who didn’t want the spicy New Orleans fare.

The cook credited the fresh cream and home grown potatoes, but that wasn’t enough. May couldn’t distinguish the individual spices, but that woman sure could meld flavors.

Chunks of ham, corn, okra, onion, those heavenly tomatoes, and May wasn’t sure what all else, swam in the gumbo. The zest didn’t hit you until after you swallowed, then it burned good all the way down.

A second bowl couldn’t be resisted, but only half full. And the cornbread should have been called cake and eaten for dessert. Though she’d have liked three squares, she limited herself to two.

Mammy’s cooking was downright dangerous. Where would May get more clothes? Her next royalty check might have to go to Laura for sewing. Her dresses would certainly not fit by the time she left.

She stood and dabbed the corners of her mouth. She didn’t want to leave Texas—not anymore, not ever, unless Henry went with her.

“Thank you so much for that delicious meal.”

“You’re welcome, Baby child.”

“I know I keep saying it, but I enjoyed it immensely.” She went to the woman and hugged her shoulders, cheek to cheek. “You’re an amazing cook.”

Chester beamed and nodded.

Henry rose. “Let’s take a break and watch my babies play a while.”

“Fine with me.”

He moved her to the porch where he offered her Sue’s rocker and sat in his. May rocked until the time came for the older children to get back to their lessons and the little ones to their naps.

Then he ushered her to the library and continued. Telling most of his stories, he spoke so matter-of-factly, almost like he told someone else’s tale.

Funny, it didn’t bother her at all like she thought it would.

He even had May right there and laughing along. “The timing was perfect. Levi and Titus leading that team of mules out, and Sue fit to be tied, thinking I’d traded away her cotton.”

He slapped his knee and wiped the corner of his eye. “Course, once she found out what I’d done, she couldn’t apologize enough. Bless her heart.”

May couldn’t help it and tried to catch her breath, still giggling. “Indeed. My gracious, four mules and the harness. Had to set you back a pretty penny.
What’d they cost you?”

Even though the story was funny, she had to admit—even if only to herself—that hearing it wasn’t always easy. She didn’t particularly care for the happy gleam in his eye and mirth in his voice at the Titus Trading Post remembrance.

And still, she couldn’t help herself for feeling a bit sorry for Sue.

“Hate to keep answering your questions with I don’t know, but it’s the truth. Bartered tobacco, hides, and coin for the mules and a whole pile of other stuff for the children and Sue.

“Then turned around and bartered the team for the flatboat we hauled her cotton—and the lint I’d bought, too—on to New Orleans.”

“You bought cotton?”

“Got it from our neighbors who’d missed the Jefferson buyers like we had.”

“Henry Buckmeyer, are you a gambling man?”

He chuckled. “Was once, but I hate to lose. Why do you ask?”

“From what you just told me, sounds like you sure were gambling on that flatboat and buying more cotton.”

“I prefer to think of it as investing. The boat could’ve been poorly constructed and sunk, but I did inspect it beforehand.

“And giving the nickel, a cent less than the buyers offered
,
wasn’t that much of a gamble. I’d heard that the big buyers in New Orleans were paying upwards to a dime, stood to double my money, almost did.”

“I suppose I can see where you’d think it was a pretty safe bet; but anyway, go on. You’re in Pleasant Mound—that’s Mount Pleasant today, right? With only three days to get to Jefferson. How’d you do it?”

He looked off as though searching that time almost two decades ago. The still quietness hung heavy in the room. Then all of a sudden, he launched back into his story with too much detail.

But she didn’t write it all down, his words painted such vivid pictures.

Just as he got the wagons to Captain Dangerfield’s spring, movement drew her attention toward the hall door, and he followed her gaze.

Rebecca stood half in. “Daddy, I need to…” She glanced at May. “I’m sorry. Do you mind terribly if I interrupt?”

May scooted her chair back. “Of course not. I’ll leave you two to some privacy and get me a cup of tea. Would you like a cup?”

“No, please. That isn’t necessary at all. Stay.” She faced her father. “It’s Wallace.”

Henry leaned forward. “What’s he done?”

May stifled a smile. The man was immediately ready to do battle for his baby girl, even if she was all grown up.

“Nothing, well, yes, he has. That’s the problem. Just now he told me that he planned to quit. He swears he loves me more than he ever loved rangering, then he knelt down on one knee and proposed—again.”

She stepped into the room and closed the door. “Daddy, did you know Mary Rachel was in love with Wallace?”

“What, when? How do you know that?”

Rebecca glanced at May then back. “The other day when we were getting our bath, I was telling everyone that Wallace had proposed again while we were in Llano, and Mary Rachel said he wouldn’t have to ask her twice.”

The lovely young lady filled her lungs then exhaled slowly. “I’ve been watching her real close since, and whenever Wallace is around, she can’t take her eyes off him.”

Henry shook his head
. “
Mercy, girl, I don’t know what to tell you.”

May did, but should she get involved?

Rebecca slipped into the chair next to her daddy then leaned back. “What about you, Miss May? What do you think?”

She looked from the daughter to her father; the man gave her a little nod like he’d appreciate her offering some feminine advice.

“It’s obvious that you’re in love with the Captain, dear, and if he’s willing to give up being a Texas Ranger—and that’s been your only objection—then the solution is simple. Say yes.”

“What about Mary Rachel? I don’t want to break my sister’s heart.”

“Don’t worry about that. She’s young and in love with love. He’s the only man she knows who can compare with her daddy and the Major. You mark what I say, she’ll be happy for the both of you, especially after the right man comes along for her.”

She turned toward her father. “Do you think I can trust Wallace? Will he run off the next time some idiot decides to start another war?”

“I’ve never known the man to lie; so long as you don’t hold stretching a yarn against him.”

“Guess I better send him in to you then.”

“What for?”

“Doesn’t he have to ask your permission?”

Henry laughed. “Yes, darling, but he did that years ago.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“That if he hurt you, or wasn’t a gentleman at all times, I’d kill him dead and feed him to the hogs. But yes, he asked and got my permission to court my favorite daughter—and marry her if she agreed.”

“Oh, Daddy, am I doing the right thing?” She glanced at May and smiled. “I do love him, but the thought of him running off like.…” She stopped herself. “Uh, I better not say more about that, I don’t want to steal.…”

She stood. “Forgive me. I’m letting my mouth get the best of me.” She strolled to the door then turned around. “Thank you, Miss May.” Holding the door’s jamb, she gazed toward the ceiling and let her whole face smile. “I’m going to be a bride.”

Goose bumps covered May’s legs and arms. How did that feel to know you’d be wed to the man you loved? Would she ever accept a proposal? “You’re welcome, dear.”

Henry stared into the hall until the sound of rustling petticoats died then faced her. “You sure about her being in love with Wallace?”

She laughed. “Yes, of course, I am.”

“How?”

“All the signs are there. Trust me, I know about these things. Remember, I write romance novels for a living.”

“And there won’t be trouble between her and her sister?”

“No, none at all. Mary Rachel will be fine. Again, can you trust me?”

Henry stared at her for too many beats of May’s heart. Could the man see all the way into her soul? She wanted to look away, but more than anything, she wanted to leap all the way into his heart.

Such an excellent specimen, but no man was perfect. Could she truly give her heart to him? Especially with all his silly superstitions.

He nodded. “Yes, of course. Good advice, May. It all makes sense. Mary Rachel thinking her sister was never going to say yes, and Wallace is a great boy. Well, he’s turned into a fine man.” He leaned forward, glanced to the door. “Will you talk with my Mary Rachel?”

“I’ll be happy to.” The desire to jump over the desk and smother him with kisses and hugs proved almost more than she could bear. She longed to whisper in his ear that it would all work out with all his favorite daughters.

He needed her by his side, he really needed her. She wiggled a bit in his chair. It all felt so right—sitting where he sat and being a part of his life.

“Good. So where were we? Oh yes, Captain Daingerfield’s springs.”

For the next few minutes, Henry told her about Sue losing her temper with the preacher. “We heard a few years later that the man and his son got tarred and feathered then run out of town for stealing from their church’s poor fund.” 

He shrugged. “Sue told me that was the day she realized she loved me.” He leaned forward, seemed to her he was trying too hard to hide his feelings. “The next night I asked her to marry me. At first she said yes then started crawfishing.”

“Are you talking about mudbugs, the little lobster looking things that back up with their claws out?”

“Yes, but we call them crawdads. Anyway I already knew about her vow and assured her I would get her father’s blessing, but it turned out me not being a Christian was her biggest objection.”

She set her quill down and looked up. “Will that be a problem with us, Henry?”

“I hope not.” 

His answer bothered May, but now didn’t seem the moment to press. Some superstitions were hard to break. She’d heard tell about folks who would go blocks out of their way to keep from crossing a black cat’s path.