Rapture's Rendezvous (32 page)

“Mama Pearl, is my luggage placed aboard the carriage?” Nathan asked, pulling gloves from his coat pocket, working them carefully onto each finger.

“Yes, suh, Mastah Hawkins,” Mama Pearl said.

“Then Maria and I will be leaving for the train depot,” Nathan said, going to Maria, jerking her around to face him. He looked up into her face, smiling crookedly. “We'll be wed in Saint Louis,” he said.

“Yes suh, Mastah Hawkins,” Pearl said, grinning from ear to ear, then left the room.

“Saint Louis?” Maria gasped, placing her fingers to her throat.

“Yes. Saint Louis,” he snapped. “But upon our arrival there, we will have to see to it that you will have proper attire fitted you. i cannot let a wife of mine be seen in such … ah … a dress as you have chosen to wear.”

Maria's face colored. She looked down at her dress,
having been so proud of it. She had waited forever, it seemed, to find the proper time to wear it. And now that she had . . . he . . . this Nathan Hawkins .. . ridiculed it? But then she remembered the way the fancy ladies had been dressed in New York. Their dresses
and
their hats had been so lovely. So stylish. Yes, she could understand why Nathan Hawkins would be ashamed to be seen in the company of a lady attired in a cheap dress that had been purchased in Italy for only a few lire.

Nathan placed his tall silk hat atop his head. “Let's be on our way then,” he said, taking Maria by the elbow, guiding her back outside, where a grand black carriage now sat waiting. A coachman attired in a tall, black silk hat and black coat and breeches jumped from the front outside carriage seat and opened the door, bowing, motioning for Maria to climb inside.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then found herself seated on plump cushions of gold velvet. Nathan moved in next to her, closing the door, leaving them to sit alone in an awkward silence. When the carriage began to be jostled along the graveled country road, Maria craned her neck to look from the window, clinging to the seat so haid, the knuckles of her hands grew ghostly white.

“You must learn many things as my wife,” Nathan uttered coldly. “The first is to relax while in my presence.”

Maria fluttered her lashes nervously, frowning. She glanced sideways at him. “I doubt if I will ever be as you wish,” she hissed. “You must remember. It is not of my choosing to become your wife. It is something you have
forced upon me. Therefore, I shall act… as I shall act.” She tilted her chin up into the air, blushing a bit, then gazed out the window again, seeing only barely in the distance the tipple of the coal mine, reminding her of her Papa and Alberto and their fright upon the discovery of her absence. She clasped her hands tightly on her lap, casting her eyes downward, saying, “Sir, I do need something from you,” she whispered.

Nathan scooted closer to her, smiling. He reached for her with his gloved hands, covering her hands with his. “And what might that be, Maria?” he said.

She tensed, but left his hand be. She knew that she would have to get used to his touch sooner or later. Why not now, when the layer of glove divided them? She glanced over at him, forcing a smile. “My family will be so worried when they find I am gone,” she said. “Can't we send word? Especially now that we're to be wed in another city? What can it truly matter to you?”

Nathan's moustache worked as his tongue wet his lips. “I think something can be arranged,” he finally said. “I'll have a messenger boy deliver the message. I'll locate and instruct one before boarding the train for Saint Louis.”

An ache circled Maria's heart with another mention of Saint Louis. It reminded her of Michael. Had Ruby been stating a truth when she had said that Michael was still rich? Did that mean that he still most definitely made his residence in Saint Louis?

Maria's hands went to her throat. What if Michael should see her there with Nathan Hawkins? What if he even heard of the marriage? She would just die if he was to hear of this marriage of mockery. How could she
even tell him the whys of it? But she knew that her thoughts were on the foolish side. He would never see her … nor she him.

Maria grabbed at the seat when the carriage came to a sudden halt. She was tossed a bit sideways against Nathan, making her pull quickly away. “Excuse me, sir,” she murmured, reaching up to push some loose strands of her hair back from her eyes.

Nathan's right arm reached around her waist and pulled her back next to him. “You must quit calling me ‘sir,'“ he said. “You are soon to become my wife. You must act the role.” His lips puckered and sought hers out, making her cringe when the stiffness of his moustache scratched her face. “Do you understand. Maria?” he added, letting a hand wander, to touch the outline of a breast.

With her face flaming. Maria said, “Yes. I understand. But for now? Can't you just leave me be?”

“It's all too much too fast for my sweet innocent one from Italy,” he said, patting her gently on the cheek. “I understand. Yes, I will wait. We have many years of marriage ahead of us.”

Maria's brows tilted, so wanting to ask him the whereabouts … or fate … of the wives before her. How was she to know how quickly he would tire of her? What would he then do with her? Would she even be free then to return to her family … or maybe even to search for Michael?

“But for now, we must move in haste. The train doesn't even wait for Nathan Hawkins,” Nathan said, reaching in front of Maria to open the carriage door. “I'm sure George, my coachman, has already seen to
my luggage and has it in the rented private car of the train.”

Maria stepped from the carriage, all eyes. The black engine of the train sat puffing and wheezing black balls of smoke upward, while a fresh batch of immigrants was being directed from one of the cars of the train. Sympathy made Maria's heart plunge, knowing the kind of life that was awaiting them. She had to wonder just how many more immigrants would be needed by Nathan Hawkins for his slave labor at the mines. The town of Hawkinsville was already too thickly populated for health standards to remain at a safe level. The smell from the privies was already too strong, so strong even, one could hardly stand to enter one's own backyard where the flies buzzed and hatched more flies.

Nathan took Maria by the arm and guided her quickly around the milling crowds. “Do you see that fancier car next to the caboose, Maria?” he said, pointing.

Maria followed his gaze and saw the identical car she had seen once before on the very day of her own arrival to America. She had even seen a partially nude woman when she had stared through its window. “Yes, I see,” she murmured.

“You go ahead and go to that car,” Nathan said, pushing her away from him. “I will go to the depot to direct a messenger boy to inform your family as you have requested.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” she said, then caught herself. She blushed. “I mean, thank you, Nathan.”

“You hurry and board. I'll be there soon.”

“All right, Nathan,” she said, looking around her once again, guilt then causing her to move on toward
the train, knowing that from this moment on. her life would be better than the lives of those Italians who stood as though lost, waiting for one of Nathan's representatives to arrive, to take them to their bleak drudgeries of Hawkinsville.

Lifting the skirt of her dress, Maria climbed aboard the private car of the train and stood looking at the luxuriousness of all that surrounded her, leaving her with mouth agape. She moved on into the car, eyes wide. Green fringe-trimmed curtains hung at the few, small windows, and a huge green-velvetecn-covered bed filled the space on one far end wall.

A liquor cabinet reflected back at her in different-colored bottles of whiskies and wines, and many plush chairs and two desks filled the rest of the empty spaces around her.

Maria went to a window and pulled a curtain aside, watching the immigrants being loaded onto several wagons. Gulping back tears, she turned her head away and went to slouch down onto a chair. When Nathan rushed into the car, panting for breath, Maria tensed, now realizing how alone they were, and in a car where a bed seemed to have top priority. She eyed the bed, then Nathan, barely breathing.

“The trip will take several hours,” he said, pulling his gloves from his fingers, and.then the hat from atop his head. “We must make ourselves comfortable and enjoy ourselves.” He removed his coat, revealing an abun-dance of ruffles on his shirt. Then when he moved toward the liquor cabinet, Maria saw a pearl-handled pistol thrust inside the back of his breeches. Her fear of him heightened

“Why … do … you wear a … gun … ?” she stammered, watching his expression, but seeing that her question didn't appear to affect him in one way or another.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Would you care to share some spirits with me, Maria?” he asked, already pouring some red bubbly liquid into a thin-stemmed glass.

Maria fidgeted with the gathers of her skirt, then with a bow at her neck. “I don't think….” she began, but was stopped short when a glass was forced into her free hand.

“Like I said earlier,” Nathan said. “You've many things to learn. Share a few drinks with me and you'll find it much easier when I ask you to share that nice bed with me.” His gaze flashed from Maria, to the bed, then back to Maria once again, a smile lifting his whiskers from his lips.

Maria's fingers began to tremble. She took a quick swallow of wine, then said weakly, “But you … said … that you would leave me be. We are not even married. Surely you … wouldn't….”

His face was expressionless as he settled down onto a chair opposite her. He crossed his legs, revealing his highly polished boots to Maria. “Did I say that?” he said, sipping on the wine. “I must be more careful with the words I choose to speak. Especially in the company of one so beautifully tempting as you.”

Maria's eyes lowered. “But, I do wish “ she began,

but was interrupted.

“Your beauty is a unique one, don't you know that, Maria?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Please . . . Nathan “

“There is only one flaw that I see,” he said, clearing his throat. “But maybe with some facial makeup we can hide that ugly birthmark from view.”

Maria's fingers reached up and touched the spot on her face of which he was speaking. Her face flushed; she had never felt that her birthmark was so ugly to have to be covered by cheap makeup. “You are wrong,
sir,
“she stated flatly. “I shall not cover my birthmark. You cannot have everything to your liking. My becoming your wife does not mean I have to bow down to you. You will learn that quite quickly.”

Nathan rose and put his glass down inside the liquor cabinet. He began unbuttoning his shirt, glowering. “We shall see about that,” he said. “I now wish to take you to bed. Undress. Now.”

The jolting of the train on its tracks caused Maria to swallow hard, knowing that the train was now traveling away from Hawkinsville and the security she had always felt when in Alberto's and her Papa's presence.

Now? She was left completely to fend for herself. When she saw Nathan reach behind him and lift the pistol from his breeches, she thought this to be cause for conversation to possibly postpone her trip to the bed. She swallowed hard, then said, “You didn't say why you are wearing the gun, Nathan.”

“For protection. Why else?”

“Whose .. . protection . .. ?”

“Mine,” he said, glowering toward her.

“Protection . . . from . . . whom . . . ?”

He moved the pistol from one hand to the other, as
though weighing it. “There have been threats on my life,” he said darkly. “I only recently began to feel the need to carry my pistol.”

Maria sipped her wine slowly, then added. “But why would anyone . . . want… to kill you?” She knew the answer to that, but needed to lead Nathan further into conversation. Oh, how she hated the thought of sharing the bed with him.

Nathan went to a chair and sat back down onto it, still eyeing the pistol he held in his hand. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and began shining the pistol's barrel.

“It is this damn organization called the United Mine Workers of America that is causing me the trouble,” he grumbled. “They are trying to tell me how to run
my
coal mine. But it is
mine.
No one will come to my coal mine and tell me what to do. No one.”

“I have never heard of this organization,” Maria prodded, relieved to see him settle back against the chair, sulking. She now knew that she had succeeded in getting his mind to wander from things other than what her body could do for him.

“It is called the ‘union' for short,” he grumbled further.

“Who runs this … as you call. . . it. . . Union?”

“At first several union members sought me out. To try to convince me that my mine wasn't safe. And that I wasn't treating my workers fairly. But when I ran them off my property, I heard tell that they then had this one person come to Hawkinsville to do secret investigating to prove my negligence with my mine and people.” He laughed sardonically. “I guess they think this one
bastard can make Nathan Hawkins change his way of life. Well, they have something to learn about this Nathan Hawkins.”

“How is this one man doing this . . . uh .. . investigating?”

“So far my men haven't discovered who it is. We've only heard mention of a name. A man named Hopper. From Saint Louis. I hear tell that he comes to Hawk-insville very well disguised. But one day we will catch up with him. And when we do … we will be sure that he will get a bullet through his skull.”

Maria almost dropped the glass as her fingers began to tremble violently. Hopper. Did Nathan truly speak of… Michael… Hopper? She knew that she had paled and took another quick drink of wine in an effort to put more color into her cheeks.

“This . . . Hopper,” she said in a near whisper. “How did you hear about him?”