Hope Reborn (27 page)

“She didn’t.”

“Oh, yes, she did. After I promised not to bother you, she let me write in the library.”

He pressed his hand against his forehead. “What did she give me?”

“Laudanum.”

A chuckle escaped, but it didn’t hurt his chest near as much as his head. “Any coffee left?”

She nodded toward his rocker. “I’m sure there is. You sit a spell, and I’ll fetch us some.”

By the end of his second cup of hot, black coffee, the ache behind his skull dulled to a manageable level. But then like she’d been brooding over something the whole time he’d been asleep, May stood and put her hand on hips.

“Henry Buckmeyer, there’s something I need to know.”

“What’s on your mind?”

May shook her head. When was she going to learn to keep her mouth shut? Might as well ask now and get it over with. What else could she say? “I’ve just been wondering. Did you ever let that wolf out on Sue?”

He recoiled as though she’d thrown her coffee on him. “What wolf?”

“That beast you keep chained up inside.”

“A wolf? Is that what you call it?”

“I suppose it’s as good a name as any. What do you call it? I’ve just been wondering if she ever had to deal with it.”

“Sue and I for sure had our share of fusses. She could get pretty passionate over her stances, but absolutely no. Never once. Not ever did I even think about raising a hand to her.”

“Any of the children or Levi?”

“No, May. Do you think I’m some kind of monster?”

She loved him being so honest, but still…evidence was strong against him. “Well, of course not. But twice now—just since I’ve known you—Levi has stopped you from killing someone. That Frank guy after he shot you, and now Bull from what I hear.”

“Both times, not only did the other guy start it, he threatened my family. I’ve told you before. I will do whatever it takes to protect us.”

“According to Big Hoss, Glover had given up.”

He nodded. “True, but by then.…” He looked away. “I can’t say if I would have stopped or not because I just don’t know. I’m proud Levi was there.”

For a while, she just sat quietly.

“May? You know me, don’t you?”

Looking into his eyes, those deep blue eyes that opened so wide the door to his soul, she knew. It washed over her like a refreshing summer rain until his love drenched her.

Soaked in truth, not one dry thread of doubt existed. He would never hurt her. As certain of it as her love for him, she found his hand and brought it to her cheek.

For a good while, she sat next to him holding it there and rocked gently.

Then he stood. “Let’s go look at your story.”

With only a few minor suggestions, her new chapters passed his muster. She loved his reaction to her words, but what author didn’t enjoy such praise? That it came from him doubled her delight.

Twice that evening, she thought he might take a knee, ask the question she longed to hear, but by its end, she climbed the stairs to her room as he disappeared into his.

Alone, even though he slept under the same roof.

Why didn’t he remedy the sad situation when he held the solution in his grasp?

She’d waited so long, and she could be about planning her wedding, should be, but the big hairy brute withheld his cooperation.

Next morning, sitting beside her love, between her second and third cups of coffee, it hit her. His ribs! He was waiting on his ribs to heal to ask her. That had to be it.

Probably figured she’d want to run grab a judge and say I do the day he asked, and he needed to be in top shape. She studied on his handsome face until he noticed.

“What? What are you grinning about?”

She smiled even bigger then gave him a double nod. “How you feeling this fine morning?”

“Fair to middling, how about you?”

“Oh, I’m great. Your ribs still sore?”

“Some.”

“I managed another chapter after you sent me upstairs. Want me to fetch it and read it to you?”

“I’d love nothing better.”

As that day melted into the next, May worked on her manuscript, content in the knowledge that once he completely healed—and according to Mammy that would take six weeks—he’d make all her dreams come true and ask her to marry him.

How could he not? He loved her.

She loved him. Henry Buckmeyer was the special man she’d saved herself for.

September cooled almost as much as Henry and Sue’s love affair heated up the pages of May’s novel. And after her first Texas summer, she found grateful an understated word to describe her appreciation of the heat breaking.

Then on the first day of October, everything changed including the weather. That morning started warm and muggy then turned gray and cooler. A light drizzle settled the dust, but never turned into a good rain.

The precipitation proved enough to keep the children indoors during their playtime though. She retreated to the library while Henry read the little ones to sleep for their nap.

Even before she could find the right words to start with, Chester burst through the door holding a letter out, grinning bigger than she’d seen in years. “May, they.…” He reached the other side of the desk and extended the paper toward her. “Here, read it your own self.”

She took it, scanned past the part about her publisher depositing her last royalty check in her New York bank account, then stopped at the last paragraph. She slowed her reading to its end then reread that one again.

Her heart fluttered then raced.

“Wow. Fifty thousand dollars.” She stopped herself from dancing a jig and looked at her brother. “That is what it says, right?”

“Yes, dear May, it does. And did you read the book tour part?”

“I saw that, but.…” She studied on him, her mind spinning with all the remarkably good news. “Will you go with me?”

He backed away a step. “No, you don’t need me now, little girl. Hire yourself a lady’s maid to accompany you. I intend to remain here. In Texas. With Mammy.”

His declaration failed to surprise her, though she wished he would have immediately agreed to go, choose her over his new lady friend. Yet, in some part of her, she understood and nodded.

Would she enjoy the company and assistance of a lady’s maid? Not as much as Henry’s. That was for sure. Her heart stopped at the notion, then took up a double time beat as the idea quickly fermented.

She’d love to show him Europe, stroll the ancient streets on the other side of the ocean with him! The Acropolis in Greece, the Colosseum of Rome, the Tower of London, and the Louvre.

But would he agree to go?

“Something wrong?”

“No.” She grinned past her brother at Henry who stood in the doorway. She held out the letter. “Look. It’s from my publisher.”

“You don’t say.”

“They’re offering a two book deal with a fifty thousand dollar advance and want to send me to tour Europe selling The Granger. Isn’t it wonderful? They love your story!”

Scanning the letter, Henry smiled, but the gesture definitely appeared forced. “How soon?”

“What?”

“Are you leaving?”

She looked from him to her brother then back. “I have no idea yet. Will you go with me?”

He shook his head, but his eyes said yes. “I don’t know how.”

“We wouldn’t have to leave for a while; we can wait until you’re completely healed.”

Chester held out a hand. “Excuse me, this conversation should be private.” He nodded toward Henry then took his leave, shutting the door behind him.

Her love glanced toward the handcrafted oak boards, but left it closed. “Has nothing to do with my ribs.”

“Then what would keep you from coming? We could tour Europe together. There’s so much I want to show you, share with you.”

“We’ve got over three thousand bales of cotton to ship, and –”

She held both hands up. “Jean Paul and Levi can see to all that, handle the business.”

“What about my babies? I can’t leave them for what? A year?”

“We can take them, too. They’d love it. I’ll pay for everything, and it’ll be so educational.”

“You going to take Lacey, Charley, and Bart, too?”

“Sure, if you want. Why not?”

“No, not without their parents, then wouldn’t be anyone left to run things.”

“We wouldn’t have to be gone a whole year, nine months wouldn’t be so bad. They’d understand. It wouldn’t be more than if they went off to a boarding school.”

“Why, May? Why do you want to go?”

She looked away, a little shocked at the question. Wasn’t it clear? How could she explain it? Make him understand?

She turned back. “Chester and I went after my third novel; I wanted to see the places I’d been writing about, but more so.…” She stepped around the desk.

The desire to smother him with kisses flamed in the core of her being, but more than anything, she wanted him to understand her heart. “They snubbed me.”

“How? Why?”

“I couldn’t get any of the booksellers to even carry my books, even though well read in the states. And now.…”  

“So it’s pride?” He stepped away, practically stomping to the window. “I can’t go with you. There’s no question about it. Not until we’re married.”

She breathed again, absolutely relieved. She’d read him wrong. Her grin blossomed into a giant smile. “Sounds good to me. Need a pillow?”

“A pillow? What for?”

“For your knee, silly.”

His expression as her meaning dawned on him stabbed her heart. She hadn’t read him wrong at all. He was not proposing.

“I can’t.”

Her smile vanished. Every breath came hard. “But… Henry…. Why not?”

“You aren’t a believer.”

There it was! His stupid religion rearing its ugly head. What the baby said was true!

Disgust fanned those flames of sweet desire into hell’s fiery furnace. Her face burned, but she kept control, refused to lose to his spiteful fictitious God.

“What a contradiction you are, Henry Buckmeyer. So wise and loving on the one hand, and utterly blind on the other! How in this world you can believe in such nonsense is beyond me.”

“No, May, you’re the one who’s blinded. Mercy, woman, look around. God shows Himself in every situation, everywhere. How can you deny Him?”

“Ha!” She backed away. Blind indeed!

The man she thought she’d been saving herself for was a stark raving lunatic, a blithering idiot, a religious fanatic ready to throw her love away for the sake of a non-existent great benefactor in the sky.

“Let me tell you this. I know you love me, Henry Buckmeyer, and I love you, but if you’re going to be so pigheaded, then I suppose it’s best I leave now, get myself back to New York, and get on with my life.”

Practically choking on her own words, she gasped. Why had she said it like that? Hadn’t this place become home? His place become hers? No! It couldn’t be, not with his stubborn insistence.

A wave washed over her. Would she faint?

He stepped closer, took her hands in his. “Please, don’t. You still need to talk with Levi and Wallace, Rose and Laura, get their stories straight. You said your publisher wants two books, right?”

She closed her eyes.

Of course he was right. She couldn’t run off. Not now, not yet. But just as soon as she could, she’d be gone.

She’d guard her heart and not be bamboozled one more minute by his lies. Lies? Were they lies or impossible dreams? Whatever they were made no difference! They shattered her heart and all its hopes.

Forget Mister Buckmeyer just like all the other hairy-legged brutes who’d turned her head. He was no different after all. Why, why, why? Whatever made her think he was?

She might never know. She’d definitely never ever fall for another one. She’d die single and alone. That was that!

She swallowed and steamed, but regained some semblance of composure.

“Fine, I’ll stay. Only until I finish The Granger and complete my interviews.”