Jewel (3 page)

Paul brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Personally, I hope Eli’s plan works.

Her brothers nodded.

Jewel added, “And I hope Pa doesn’t find out.”

Everyone agreed with that, too.

Eli drove up a few moments later, and after setting the brake on his buggy, walked over to where the Crowleys were gathered. Once greetings were exchanged, he turned to Jewel. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.” He offered his arm. She studied it for a moment, then rolled her eyes and stalked off to the buggy. Eli turned to her brothers. “And we wonder why she doesn’t have a beau.”

They all laughed and Eli hurried to catch up.

When he joined her in the buggy, he looked her way. “You know, if this plan is to succeed, you’re going to have to act as if you like me.”

“I like you fine.”

“Then can you take that sour look off your face? You’re supposed to be my wife.”

Exasperated, she sat back against the seat. “We’re going to be late.” Sighing with an exasperation of his own, he signaled the horse with the reins.

As he drove past the enormous willow tree that stood on the edge of the Crowley property and out to the road, he glanced her way again, taking in her blue outfit. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she responded before asking, “Suppose Hicks wants to know how long we’ve been married?”

Eli shrugged. “How about we say a couple of years?”

“Do we have children?”

“No.”

“Good. Pretending to be married is lie enough.”

He was beginning to think that shoeless lumber beast Celeste Keppler might have been a better choice. He did note how different Jewel looked when she took the time to fix herself up, though. Because of the unconventional influence of Dr. Viveca Lancaster Grayson, many of the women in the Grove had taken to wearing denim trousers when they did chores, and since everyone knew Jewel worked from sun up to sun down he’d be willing to bet she slept in her denims as well. The only time she seemed to be without them was on Sundays. In reality, she was a beauty. She had clear brown skin, thick rippling dark hair, and a pair of intelligent black eyes that could shine with laughter one moment and cut you like an ax blade the next. She could be incredibly generous—case in point, her agreeing to help him with Hicks—but she also had a wrath that could flay the hide off a grizzly bear. As a result, all of the Crowley men went out of their way to keep her happy, one
because they loved her to no end, and two because she was a terror when angry. “Remember the time your brothers and I tore down the clotheslines playing lacrosse.”

“I do, and you all never did it again.”

He chuckled. “Birdshot can be a powerful deterrent.”

On the day in question she’d asked that they not play lacrosse in the field until the laundry she had hanging on the lines dried and was taken down, but being older they’d dismissed both her and her request.

“We couldn’t believe you were shooting at us.” One moment they’d been running pell-mell up and down the field passing the ball back and forth with their webbed sticks, and the next, birdshot filled the air sending them cursing, ducking, and scrambling for cover.

“I couldn’t believe you all tore down two lines of wash and went on playing as if it was meaningless. I was furious.”

“We could tell.” Once the shooting stopped, she made them pick up every piece of wash, restring the lines, and rehang the laundry, but she didn’t rewash anything. “Paul said you didn’t wash clothes again for a month.”

“I did for Pa and me, but not for them. Made them suffer the July heat with dirty linens on their beds and unwashed clothes on their backs. The wash and I received a lot more respect after that.” She looked his way. “Whatever made you think about that?”

“Just musing on your many facets.”

“My facets,” she echoed skeptically.

“Yes. You have a generous side and a side that shoots.”

“I see. Then I’ll make sure I keep the latter hidden while we’re with Hicks. No sense in dazzling him with my scintillating personality.”

He grinned. “You know, you’re going to make some man a fine wife one day.”

“And you say that, because?”

“You’ve a great wit. You run an efficient household and you’re not bad to look at.”

Amused she turned to the passing landscape. “That’s quite the compliment coming from you.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are, but considering your way with the ladies, any woman with half a brain would never take you seriously.”

“You wound me again.”

“And you undoubtedly flirt in your sleep.”

The famous Grayson smile split his dark features. “You think I’m flirting with you?”

“With me? No.”

Her cynical-sounding reply gave him pause, and for the first time in his life Eli evaluated her the way he would had he indeed been flirting. He’d already alluded to her beauty, but why hadn’t he noticed the alluring ripeness of her mouth before, and when had her body become so curvaceous? He put those distracting thoughts aside. If Adam Crowley got even a hint that he might be assess
ing Jewel the way a man would a woman, the old lumber beast would come looking for him armed and loaded for bear.

When they reached the Quilt Ladies’ establishment, the large number of vehicles parked outside attested to the many diners inside. “You think all these folks are here to get a gander at Hicks?” Jewel asked.

“We small-towners take our amusements where we can.”

He came around to her side of the buggy and offered up a hand. She paused, eyed him, then remembering her role let him assist her down without making a fuss. She was glad she’d worn gloves, though, because they shielded her hand against the unsettling warmth of his touch. She took a moment to smooth her skirt. When she felt capable of facing him again, she looked him in the eyes. “You’re certain you want to go through with this?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll do my best not to foul the plan.”

“See? Your generous side.”

His vivid eyes were one of his most powerful weapons, she found herself thinking. Shaking herself back to reality, she covered her lapse by saying dismissively, “Let’s just go in. The sooner we’re done the sooner I can return home.”

Amused by all that she was, Eli walked her to the door and decided that if she ever did find a beau, he’d have to be a very special man indeed.

Upon entering the Quilt Ladies’ small but tastefully decorated establishment, they saw that all eight tables in the main room were occupied and that every eye was turned their way. Jewel tried not to squirm under the casual scrutiny and nodded greetings. Kicking herself for agreeing to this, she prayed the evening would go quickly.

Caroline Ross, wearing a mint green gown with tiny yellow bows on the hooped skirt swayed over and greeted them warmly, “Eli, hello again. Mr. Hicks is waiting for you in the back room. Jewel, I’m afraid finding you a seat may take some time.”

Eli cleared his throat. “She’s with me.”

“Really?”

Jewel explained hastily, “He thought I might like to meet Mr. Hicks. I, uh, have some ideas for the
Gazette
. A ladies’ column.” She summoned up what she hoped passed for a genuine smile.

“Ah,” Caroline voiced but studied Jewel long enough to give her a repeat case of the squirms. “This way.”

She led them through the room. The packed-in diners viewed their passing with unabashed interest. A few even whispered, “Good luck, Eli.”

When she showed them into the small private room, Hicks was seated at the lone white-clothed table. He’d changed to a brown suit and at their approach rose to his feet.

Eli turned to Caroline, “Thank you.”

It was easy to see she wanted to hover, but Eli didn’t want her eavesdropping when he introduced Jewel as his wife. “Miss Ross, can you bring us something cold to drink. We’re parched from the drive.”

“Oh. Of course. Excuse me. I’ll send someone right in.” She exited and closed the door softly behind her.

By then Hicks was looking between Eli and Jewel with an expectancy that couldn’t be ignored, so Eli plunged in. “G. W. Hicks, this is my wife, Jewel Grayson.”

His smile was kind. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Grayson.”

“Thank you. I’m pleased as well. The Grove is very honored to host such an esteemed visitor.”

Hicks gestured to the chairs. “Please. Join me.”

After they were settled, Hicks gave Jewel a polite glance and said to Eli, “Grayson, you didn’t tell me your wife was so lovely.”

Jewel kept her face composed.

Eli eyed her fondly. “She’s lovely, intelligent, and witty as well. Marrying her was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Jewel almost rolled her eyes but remembered her role, and said with a feigned shyness, “Thank you, Eli. That was very sweet.”

He reached over and covered her hand with his. Instinct made her want to pull back, but the subtle pressure of his hand kept hers immobile.

Hicks seemed to be pleased by the show of affection. “How long have you been married?”

“A couple of years,” they both answered.

“Children?”

“No.” Again in unison.

“I’m sure that will come with time.”

Jewel smiled falsely.

The waiter entered with a pitcher of iced tea, sparing her any further talk of babies. He poured some of the amber liquid into their glass tumblers, and once done, said, “I’ll be back with your meals.”

He departed and closed the door. Hicks again had his attention on Jewel. “Are you a Grove native, Mrs. Grayson?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What do you think of your husband’s newspaper?”

“I enjoyed it. I took issue with his editorials at times, but that’s to be expected, him being a Democrat and all.”

Hicks grinned. “If women had the vote, which party would you prefer?”

“That’s between me and the ballot box. No?”

That sat him back.

Eli inwardly cringed.

Jewel took a small sip of tea.

Hicks observed her for a silent moment more, then looked impressed. “Grayson, you said the women here were unique. You were not wrong.” He raised his glass in salute. “To you, Mrs. Grayson, and intelligent women everywhere.”

Jewel raised hers in response and hoped the food would arrive soon.

For the next hour, they ate their meals of roast duck and vegetables and discussed the political issues of the day. The state of Tennessee had recently enacted a new Jim Crow law that was being roundly denounced by Black newspapers from Boston to Los Angeles. The statute, which endorsed the segregation of railroad coaches, had employed the new term
separate but equal
.

Eli cracked bitterly, “Separate, yes. Equal, no.”

Hicks agreed. “There’s nothing equal about riding in a cattle car. The race is heading down a slippery slope with this legislation because Tennessee has given other states the phrase they need to further distance us from our rights.”

Jewel silently agreed as well. The country seemed less and less interested in applying the freedoms promised in the Constitution to its darker citizens. Reconstruction had been dead for years and the Redemptionists in the South were murdering Black men and women separately and equally.

“And that is why the race’s newspapers are so vital,” Eli said, leaning forward to make his point. “No one else is going to bang our drum. The
Chicago Tribune
said we Blacks are going to disappear from national politics, and they may be correct, but as long as there is one Black editor left standing we will not go silently.”

“Hear, hear,” Hicks voiced, pleased. “Which is exactly one of the reasons why I’m choosing you and your paper, Grayson. You won’t go silently.”

He eyed the two of them and then rose to his feet. “Will you come with me, please?”

She and Eli shared a look but followed him out to the main dining room.

He called out in a loud voice, “Ladies and gentlemen of the Grove, may I have your attention.”

Feeling uneasy under the scrutiny of the diners, Jewel wondered what he was going to say.

When it was quiet, he continued, “I’d like to welcome into my newspaper family the newly appointed editor of the
Gazette
, Eli Grayson. Let’s give him and his lovely wife, Jewel, a hand.”

Every mouth in the place dropped, and in the silence, Jewel wished she knew how to faint because that was what she wanted to do.

As if they’d needed a moment to recover from the startling announcement, the diners began to applaud enthusiastically while staring at each other in surprise and shock.

Eli knew this wasn’t good. Seeing the storm gathering in Jewel’s face, he bowed to the cheering crowd, and said out of the side of his mouth, “Smile darling.”

So she did, but she whispered furiously, “Is this what you meant when you said nothing was going to happen?” Short of telling the truth and opening up an even larger can of worms, there was no way out, at least for the moment. The news of their marriage would spread so quickly that by the time the moon rose, people all over the county would be asking each other, “Did you hear about
Eli Grayson and Jewel Crowley?” She wanted to shoot somebody. Preferably Eli.

Eli knew that he and Jewel needed to leave the diner before one of their neighbors came over to offer congratulations and began asking questions neither of them was prepared to answer. His hastily conceived plan had gotten away from him as quickly as a toboggan on a hill of fresh snow, so once the applause died and they were again seated in the private room, he said, “Mr. Hicks, I am honored by your faith in me, and you won’t be sorry you tapped me. However, Jewel hasn’t been feeling well, and I promised her I’d get her home early so she could lie down.”

“Oh, of course, why didn’t you say something before?”

Eli asked, “Can you and I meet sometime tomorrow?”

“Certainly. How about here around nine?”

“Perfect.” He turned to Jewel. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

She kicked him beneath the table. Enjoying his muffled groan of pain, she responded quietly, “Yes, dear. Mr. Hicks, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“I hope you feel better. I’m looking forward to dining with you and your husband again, soon.”