The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (20 page)

“What
ya
thinkin
’ on
doin
’ ’bout that
feller?” He stared down at her with intensity. Not with eyes full of passion,
like so many other men had. Shaw’s expression
bespoke.
. .compassion.

He felt sorry for her? Outrage shot
through her, but she pushed it away as he silently waited for her to answer.
How nice to know someone truly cared. “I don’t know, Shaw. I can’t decide.”

In a bold move, he enveloped her hands in
his. “Do da right thing.”

Drawn in by his wonderful brown eyes, Cat
couldn’t look away. “What is right? Tell me.”

“Stop
lyin
’ to
yo’self
. Stop
tryin
’ to be who ya
ain’t.”

Cat stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Ya
knows
what I
mean.

“No, Shaw,” Cat replied, yanking her
hands away. “I don’t. How about if you enlighten me?”

Shaw stuffed his hands into his pockets
and resumed walking down the lane.

Cat followed, taking two steps to every
one of his. “Shaw, stop. Tell me what you mean.” Silence met her. In
frustration, she grabbed his arm. “Stop!” She walked around to face him. “Talk
to me.”

“Nobody can tell ya what ya already
knows, darlin’
” He cupped her cheek. “Ya
can’t live forever in a lie. Someday, somebody is gonna find ya out.”

“You mean to tell me you think I should
live as a slave instead of a white woman?”

His lips curved into an indulgent smile.
“
We’s
free, Miss Cat.”

Cat refused to find the humor in his
remark. “You know what I mean.”

He released a sigh. “Yeah, I ’
spect
I do. Still, it
ain’t
right
what
ya’s
plannin
’. Goin’
north to live in sin with a white man.”

Cat gave a bitter laugh. “I suppose it
would be holier if I were to live the same way with a black man like you?”

A flash of hurt crossed his features,
stealing away Cat’s breath. He dropped her hands. “Miss Cat, ya go an’ do ’
zactly
what ya wants to do.”

Regret slammed into her gut. “I’m sorry,
Shaw.” She placed her hand on his muscled arm. “I had no right to say that.
Please forgive me.”

He turned to her.
His
hand, dark as night against hers.
“I always do, Catherina.”

Thunder rolled across the gray sky.
Lightning followed, splitting the sky. “I ’
spect
ya
better get on inside,
afo
’ the storm
gits
bad.” With one more long, melting look, he turned and
strode away.

Cat watched his broad back. For one wild
moment, she saw herself falling into his massive arms. Laying her head against
his chest and allowing the weight of the world to shift to his shoulders, which
were far stronger than hers in every way.

As if reading her thoughts, he swept
around. He stared, long, hard. Cat caught her breath. Everything in her wanted
to go to him. Oh, there was so much she wanted to say. She knew he would
understand the pain of those years as Henry’s mistress, the struggle of caring
for Miss Maddy and the household.

“Shaw!”

Slowly he started back to her, his eyes
filled with questions.
Shaw.
. .she didn’t even know
his first name.
Or his last, if Shaw was his first.
Her stomach twisted. He had been a slave. He would never have anything more
than what she offered him as a sharecropper on her son’s land. If she went to
him as a former slave, neither of them would have anything.

“Is somethin’ de matter, Miss Cat?”

Swallowing, she shook her head. “I--I
just
wondered.
. .”

“What?” He was so close she could have
reached out and touched him. Rain splattered on her cheek, trailing downward
like a tear as she forced a smile. “I just wondered what your last name is.”

Instantly, his deferential expression
returned. He smiled. “Only
gots
one name.”

“J–just Shaw?”

He moved a wet strand of hair from her
forehead and tucked it behind her ear. Cat closed her eyes. “Just Shaw, Cat.
Dat be all I kin ever be.”

Reaching up, she covered his hand. Tears
filled her eyes as she met his dark gaze. “Good-bye, Shaw.”
 

“Den
ya’s
made
yo
’ choice?”

She nodded. “I’m going to accept Captain
Riley’s proposition.”

His eyes misted. “I’s gonna be
prayin
’
fo
’ ya ever’ day
fo
’ as long as I got
bref
in my body.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his
palm and walked away as tears came, quickly and unstoppable. By the time she
reached the porch, she was sobbing.

From
Camilla’s diary

“I’m going to kill him.” Thomas’s
impassioned words sent ripples of fear to Camilla’s belly.

“Thomas. Think of the repercussions of
harming a Yankee officer.”

He sneered. “Riley’s not in the army any
longer.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Cat’s stone-cold
voice broke through the tension filling the sitting room. “Thomas isn’t killing
anyone. This is my decision.” She stared pointedly at Camilla. “As it was my
choice seven years ago. I decide where I go and whom I go with. And I choose
Stuart.”

Thomas sank to the floor at Cat’s feet
and gripped her hands. “But he’s asking you to be his mistress, Cat. What kind
of a life is that? I’m offering to make you my wife.”

The sight of Thomas on his knees before a
common slave girl filled Camilla with rage. And the look of uncertainty filling
Cat’s face clenched her stomach. Cat would
not
change her mind. Camilla wouldn’t allow it. “Thomas, for mercy’s sake. Get up.
Where is your pride? Cat is doing what she feels is best for her.” And if she
knew what was good for her, she wouldn’t mess this up for Camilla.

Cat nodded. “That’s right. You can’t
change my mind.”

“But we love each other. We have since
childhood.”

“No, we don’t. Oh, Thomas, you can’t
compare the passions of youth with the love a woman feels for a man.” Her voice
softened and her face gentled to an expression Camilla had only seen when she
looked at little Hank. Was it possible Cat truly did love Captain Riley?

“
’
Scuse
me.”

Camilla looked toward the door. “What is
it, Shaw?”

His gaze rested on Cat. “
Cap’n
Riley’s
comin
’ down da
lane.”

“Thank you, Shaw,” Cat whispered.

He nodded and turned away.

Relief flooded Camilla at the news. Just
a few more days and Cat would be gone for good.

Thomas stood. He squared his shoulders
with dignity. “Go to your lover.” The disdain in his voice left no doubt
of
his contempt.

Cat lifted a trembling hand and smoothed
back her hair. “Excuse me, please.”

Thomas turned away, refusing to watch her
as she left the room to welcome Stuart Riley.

“I’m sorry, Thomas.” Camilla wasn’t sorry
at all. She was glad Cat was such a loose woman. Glad she was finally going to
be rid of her.

He jerked his head up and stared at her,
eyes blazing. “Will you marry me?”

She blinked as her breath caught in her
throat.

Thomas closed the distance between them
with just two long strides. He gripped her hands in his. “Marry me.”

Joy shot through her. Her cheeks warmed
with excitement. “Yes, Thomas. I’d be honored.”

He crushed her to him and covered her
mouth with his. His hard kiss was almost painful. “Get dressed. We’ll go to the
preacher right now.”

“But what about a wedding with neighbors
and a party?”

“Now, Camilla.” His eyes warned her not
to oppose him.

Camilla pressed her fingers to her
throat. “Yes, Thomas.”

1948

Andy stared at Miss Penbrook. “If you
married Thomas, why do you publish under the name C. Penbrook?”

She sent him a toothless smile. “Why not
just keep reading the diaries? They’ve served you pretty well so far.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“Young folks always have to have their
own way.” She sighed. “I think you already know. Don’t you?”

Andy searched the wrinkled face, the
wizened brown eyes.
Brown eyes. Camilla’s
eyes were blue.
Suddenly the thought he hadn’t quite been able to come to
grips with made its way through his mind. “You’re not Camilla.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? A woman born a slave
dies a Southern belle. What do you think people would think if they found out?”

The pain still slicing through his back
was a clear reminder of what could happen to an “uppity colored,” let alone a
woman who had pretended for years, attended white functions, drank from their
fountains, and eaten in their whites-only restaurants. “I wouldn’t suggest you
tell anyone at this late date.”

“That’s what memoirs are designed to do.”
Her gaze rested on the beam of light shining through her window. “I’ve lived my
life in a lie. In death, I want the truth to be told.”

“And you want me to tell it. Why? Why,
Miss Cat?”

She tossed him a wry grin. “No one’s
called me by my given name in thirty years. Not since Shaw passed on.”

“You assumed Camilla’s identity, didn’t
you?” He had visions of Camilla being murdered and buried in the backyard.

She shook her head. “Of course not. I took
on the last name of Penbrook when I left Georgia.” She laughed. “Camilla was
fit to be tied. But I didn’t care. I figured I had as much right to it as
anyone. There would even be a
Penbrook
House, let
alone lands if I hadn’t stepped in.”

Andy’s lips twitched. He stood to go,
then paused. “Which man did you love? Shaw or Thomas?”

A sigh drifted through her wrinkled lips.
“That’s my business, I reckon. Either way, I gave it up. I was a foolish,
foolish woman, Andy. I gave up love and decency, all because I resented who I
was.”

“Pardon me, ma’am, but I disagree that
you were foolish.” A shrug lifted his shoulders. “Matter of fact, I admire your
spirit. Having white skin gave you a life you couldn’t have had otherwise. You
had no choice but to take advantage of it.”

“I had a choice.”

“But what was the alternative?”

She smiled. “Love.”

“There’s a lot to be said for love, I
suppose.”

Miss Penbrook turned her gaze to his.
“What about you? You love your wife?”

“Let’s just say I’ve made some
unfortunate choices myself.”

“I see.” She pursed her lips together as
though in thought. “Is it too late?”

“For my wife and me?”

“Obviously.” She shivered and pulled at
the covers but her tiny muscles didn’t hold the strength to get the comforter
to her shoulders.

Andy walked back to her bed and tucked
the covers around her shoulders. She rewarded him with a toothless smile.
“Thank you.” She nestled into the bed. “Tell me something, do
these
 
unfortunate
choices of yours have anything to do with the reason you haven’t introduced
your wife to Daniel and Lois?”

“More likely, that decision was one of
those choices.” The image of how different things might have been if he’d just
shared
Lexie
with the
Rileys
and shared them with her instead of claiming to have no family, played across
his mind.

“Lois thinks you’re ashamed of being
raised by a white family.” Miss
Penbrook
scowled at
him. “I think it’s just the opposite. You’re ashamed of marrying a colored
girl.”

“Ashamed? That’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t deny it to me. You were raised
white and you want to be white.” She motioned to the chair. “You might as well
sit back down.”

“I’ve never been ashamed of
Lexie
. And if I’m ashamed of the
Rileys
I suppose it’s more about feeling like the proverbial black sheep.” He dropped
back into the chair beside her bed.
 
“But you’re wrong about me wanting to be white.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Then how come you don’t visit your
family down here? You weren’t so young that you don’t remember you had brothers
and sisters.”

Andy shifted in the chair, and rested his
ankle across the opposite knee. “I don’t mean to be rude, but don’t you think
that’s my business?”

She nodded. “I suppose so. But your mama
sent you away to give you a better life. Aren’t you even curious as to how the
others fared while you were brought up in a nice white home with plenty to eat,
books to read, and a good job waiting for you after you finished your
schooling?”

“No. I’m not. I didn’t ask to be sent to
the
Rileys
. I don’t have to feel guilty for being
given the benefit of a better life.”

“That’s like saying you didn’t ask to be
born.” She grunted, trying to adjust her pillows. Andy got up and did it for
her.

“Thank you.” She turned her body slightly
his direction.

“And to respond,” he said. He sat once
more,
determined this was the last time. He had had about
enough of her meddling anyway. “…The fact is, I didn’t ask to be born.”

“Any more than I could help being born a
slave in a white girl’s body.”

“That was different.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

Her lips, drawn over toothless gums,
pursed as her face twisted in frustration. “Oh, go ahead and leave. I can tell
you’re about to bolt.”

A frown creased Andy’s brow. Had he
pushed her too far? “You want me to leave your home?”

“Of course not. I mean, leave the room.
You know you want to get away from me.”