The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (21 page)

Well, that much was the truth. “Good
night, Miss Cat.”

“Good night, my boy. Come see me
tomorrow.”

“I will.”

From
Cat’s diary

1868

As
promised, Captain Riley purchased a lovely house in the country for me. He has
also secured a driver, a cook, and two maids. He visits me two nights a week
and takes me to town. We attend dinners, parties,
theatre
.
He is not ashamed of me. For the first time in my life, I am living as a woman
of leisure and means.

Camilla
writes that she and Thomas are to have a child in a few months. She is having a
difficult pregnancy and wishes me not to come for the harvest as I intended.
She is afraid I might upset the household and cause her to miscarry.

As
summer pushes away the lovely spring blooms, I long for the sight of Penbrook
and my darling son.

I
have taken to writing poetry to entertain myself, or perhaps it is by way of
consoling my aching heart. Miss Maddy once said that writing down one’s
thoughts helps to sort through life’s setbacks and joys
.
I have done this faithfully through the
years, and have found that taking the writing to a creative level brings me
even more pleasure. I intend to share this with Stuart. Perhaps he will publish
some short pieces in his paper.

Part Three: Darkness

They know not, neither will they understand; they walk on in
darkness
. (
Psalm 82:5
)

Chapter Thirteen

Chicago,
1879

Cat forced a smile to her lips as she
looked about the tiresome group of gluttons and drunkards sitting around her
dining room table. All of Stuart’s friends whom he couldn’t invite to his
wife’s precious table, he brought here to her home to entertain.
Gamblers who enjoyed the racetrack as much as Stuart did.
Upstarts and merchants who bought expensive ads in his paper.

Cat hated every one of them. From the
loud, fat, painted wives and mistresses to the expensive-cigar-wielding,
foul-mouthed, groping men.

But she and Stuart had made a bargain
years ago when she’d tried to refuse their company.

“You
want me to publish the poetry and short stories you write?”

“You
know I do, Stuart.”
She’d written in journals for years and started writing
for creative outlet after moving to Chicago. After all, Stuart had publishing
connections and said she was quite good.

“Then
you play hostess to my clients and friends.”

She hadn’t had to think twice.

A smile tugged her lips at the memory. She
and Stuart both knew how to get what they wanted.

From across the table, Stuart caught her
eye. His face lit and he lifted his glass to her, halting the dinner
conversation. “You’re beautiful tonight, Darling.”

Affection for Stuart played across her heart.
She lifted her glass to him. “Thank you, my dear.”

He looked deeply into her eyes. Even
after all their time together, he still stared at her with adoration. For the
past twelve years, she’d never doubted his love and devotion. If his wife died,
he wouldn’t think twice about marrying her. Cat was glad his wife seemed to be
in the best of health. Marriage didn’t seem necessary, and she knew she was
free to leave any time she chose. Which, she had to admit, had crossed her mind
more than once over the past months.

Restlessness had overtaken the tranquil
life she’d built for herself. Quiet days and nights alone to pour out her words
on stacks and stacks of paper. Five nights a week, she penned her poetry and
stories.

At first she’d believed perhaps the restlessness
would go away, as it had at other times. But it persisted. She missed Penbrook.
She needed to go home. She knew that. But over the years, Camilla had found
ways to keep her away.
Her pregnancies and subsequent
miscarriages.
Six of them.
She and Thomas were
still childless and she has poured herself into Henry Jr. And though she kept
Cat at bay, she faithfully sent photographs of Henry Jr. and updates about his
successes.

Much to Cat’s disappointment, Camilla and
Thomas had sent Henry Jr. away to a boy’s school in New York less than two
years after she’d come to Chicago. She had finally stopped fighting them at
Camilla’s assurance Henry would receive a better education in a northern boy’s
school than he could ever get in a rundown school in the South--thus enabling
him to better run Penbrook. Now he had graduated and Cat had received word that
he was back at Penbrook. At eighteen years of age, the next step in his
education would be learning from Thomas and dear Shaw to run the plantation.

Cat’s heart nearly burst with longing to
be home, to watch her son transform from a boy into a man, capable of taking
his rightful place as master of Penbrook.

Chicago,
1948

Lexie’s heart nearly burst from her chest
as the operator placed her call to Oak Junction, Georgia. Would Andy reject her
once again? She’d promised Mama that she wouldn’t go alone without someone to
meet her at the bus station. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep trying to
change his mind. It had been more than a week. Of course, she’d said she had no
intention of ever calling him again, but what a woman said in a moment of
rejection and what she meant weren’t necessarily the same thing.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice answered the
phone.

“I’d like to speak with Andy Carmichael,
please.”

“He ain’t here no more, Honey.”

Lexie’s heart plummeted. “What do you
mean? Has he left for home?”

“I don’t know. He’s been gone for a week.
Never said so much as a good-bye and hasn’t called since.”

A week? Andy had plenty of time to get
home, or at least contact her. Anger rose inside her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck. And when you
see him, tell him Ella says hello.”

Ella?
Jealousy shot through Lexie as the line went dead. No doubt Andy had been
up to his old tricks. His so-called concern for her safety had been nothing
more than a desire to hang on to his newest lady.
Just as
she’d suspected in the first place.

Tears pricked her eyes. She ran up to her
room, grabbed her jacket, hat, and purse, and stomped back down the steps. Mama
stopped her just before she slammed through the door.

“Wait.
Lex, Honey.
Where ya goin’?”

“To get a divorce!”

“Over my dead body, little girl.”

“Mama, he ran around with another woman
while he was in Georgia.”

“I’m sorry, Baby. I know how that must
hurt ya. But don’t ya think ya should talk to him before going off half-cocked
to get some demon-possessed divorced.”

“Demon-possessed? Oh, Mama. For goodness
sake, even Jesus said
adultery justified
divorce. How
many times has Andy done this?”

“I don’t know, baby girl. And neither do
you. He ain’t owned up to anything in a long time.”

“Of course not. Would you expect him to
admit it?”

Mama’s ample shoulders lifted in shrug.
“He did the first time. And the second.”

“I just don’t know what to believe.”

“All ya can do is turn this over to the
Lord.”

“I need to go for a walk.”

A frown pushed Mama’s brows together. “Ya
ain’t gonna go do somethin’ awful like getting’ some sinful divorce, are ya?”

“Not that I think it would be a sin in
this case, but no. I’ll wait to see Andy before I do anything like that. I just
need to cool off.”

“If it’s cooling off you need, I can pour
ya a nice glass of lemonade.”

Lexie smiled and wrapped her arms around
her mother. “Thanks, Mama. But I need to walk. Please don’t worry.”

Her concerned frown didn’t ease as Lexie
left her standing on the porch and took off down the street in the mild autumn
air.

She walked until she knew what she had to
do. If Andy
wasn’t
coming to her, she would go to him.
At least she would go to where someone was most likely to know when he was
coming home. She went to the nearest bus station and sat on the bench until the
bus headed downtown arrived.

An hour later, she walked through the
front door of the
Chicago Pen
and
stepped up to the reception desk. “Excuse me.”

The red-haired woman behind the desk
reminded Lexie of Lucille Ball. She looked Lexie up and down. “The
agency send
you over, Sweetie?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Didn’t think so. They don’t usually send
your kind.”

Heat rose to Lexie’s cheeks. She bristled.
“My kind?”

“Don’t get all bent out of shape. I
didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t care if you work here. We got us a colored
reporter. Kind of the boss’s pet, if you want the truth.”

The
red-headed
woman’s brash honesty was starting to grow on Lexie. She smiled. “That reporter
wouldn’t happen to be Andy Carmichael, would it?”

The redhead smacked her gum and curved
her red lips into a grin. “Sure is. You his girlfriend?”

“No. I’m his wife.”

“You don’t say?” Her grin broadened.
“Nice to meet you.
My name’s Clara.
I didn’t know Andy
even had a wife.”

“Yes, he doesn’t seem to remember it at
the moment, either.”

“Oh, one of those, eh? Send him packing,
Honey. No one needs that kind of heartbreak.”

“I just might, Clara. But first I have to
find him. Any chance he’s been around here since he left Georgia?”

“I haven’t seen him in weeks.” The door
opened and Clara’s expression slipped into deference. “Morning, Mr. Riley.”

“Good morning, Clara. How are you today?”

“Fine, sir.”

Mr. Riley had a kindly face despite his
imposing height. He smiled at Lexie, his eyes gentle, and tipped his hat. “You
must be the new girl. Your name?”

“No, sir.” Lexie swallowed hard, fighting
the tremors in her stomach.

His lips twitched. “You don’t have a
name?”

“Yes, sir, I do. But I’m not the new
girl.”

He sent her a wink. “My mistake. Clara,
please bring a cup of coffee to my office and bring your pad. I need to send a
letter.” He turned toward the hallway.

“Yes, sir. Right away.” Clara stood,
sympathy written across her long face. “Sorry, Honey. Looks like you’re out of
luck today. You got a number where I can reach you if I see him?”

Lexie sucked in a breath as she watched
Mr. Riley disappear into an office at the end of the hall. “You might not know
where he is, but I bet I know who does.” Without waiting for permission, she
bolted down the hall.

“Wait. Ma’am, you can’t go down there.”

Just
try to stop me.

She burst into Mr. Riley’s office before
Clara reached her. He turned around, surprise raising his salt-and-pepper
eyebrows. “Can I help you, young lady?”

Clara reached her, grabbing her by the
shoulders. “I am so sorry, Mr. Riley. She followed before I could stop her.”

Lexie pulled away from Clara. “Please,
sir. I must speak with you.”

“It’s all right, Clara.” He pointed to a
chair across the desk from him. “Come, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Lexie fought dizziness as
she moved forward.

Mr. Riley glanced behind her. “How about
a cup of coffee for Miss
. .
.”

“Mrs.,” Lexie corrected. “Carmichael. And
I wouldn’t care for any coffee, thank you.”

“Just some for me, then.” He dismissed
the secretary with a glance.

“I apologize for barging in on you, sir,
but I had to speak with you.”

“Mrs. Carmichael. Any relation to Andy?”

“Yes, sir. I’m his wife.”

Delight shone in Mr. Riley’s eyes. “What
a pleasure to meet you at last. Andy has kept you from us for so long, I feared
you must be an abominable-looking woman.”

Lexie’s cheeks bloomed. “Andy never
mentioned that his employer wanted to meet me.”

The amusement dimmed from Mr. Riley’s
eyes. “How much has Andy told you about his upbringing?”

Lexie blinked at the sudden question.
“Only that his parents sent him away when he was young, and he lived with a
family in Chicago until he was grown. His folks are both dead now so I’m all
the family he has.”

“I see.” Mr. Riley shook his head. “I
don’t suppose I should divulge information Andy hasn’t seen fit to share, but I
will.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Andy came to live with my wife and our
four children when he was ten years old. We raised him like a son.”

Lexie’s eyes grew wide at the revelation.
“You…raised Andy?”

A chuckle formed on his lips. “That’s
right.
A white man.
I consider him as much a son as I
do my own.”

Betrayal burned through Lexie’s heart. How
could Andy have kept something so important from her for twelve years? And the
way he’d broken his back to find work when the man who loved and raised him
owned
The Observer?
“He must have
been ashamed of me, not wanting to introduce me to his family.” Tears burned
her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

Standing, Mr. Riley came around to her
side of the desk. He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it into her hand.
“Here, now. Take this.” He knelt beside her chair. “How on earth could he ever
be ashamed of such a lovely creature? More than likely he simply wanted to keep
you all to himself. We have a large, imposing family.”

“You’re very kind.”

“And you are very beautiful. It’s easy to
see why Andy fell in love with you.”

At his compassionate words, Lexie burst
into tears. “He doesn’t want me anymore. We’ve been having trouble and I wanted
to come down to Georgia and he said no. So I tried to call him to beg him again
to let me come. But the woman at the rooming house said he’s been gone for a
week. That’s why I came here, to ask if you’ve seen him.”

He held her hand during the hysterical
blather. “Sweetheart, Andy hasn’t come back from Georgia yet. He was hurt and
moved to a safer place for the duration of his visit.”

Alarm seized Lexie. “He was hurt? What
happened?”

“Unfortunately, the South isn’t always
friendly to people of your color, Mrs. Carmichael.”

“Please call me Lexie. Are you telling me
that Andy was beaten up for being black?”

He gathered a breath. “I’m afraid he was.
So you see, he was right to keep you away. He loves you too much to put you in
harm’s way.”

“I have to see him. I have to go to him.”
She looked up. “Can you help me?”

“Now, Lexie, Honey, I can’t go against
Andy’s wishes in this. You might not be safe.”

“But I have to tell him about the baby.”

Hurt clouded his eyes. “You and Andy have
a baby?”

“Not yet.”

His face brightened and a wide smile
split his lips. “Andy’s going to be a father?”

Laughter bubbled up inside Lexie at his
excitement. “Yes, sir. In a few months.”

“You realize what this means, don’t you?
I’m going to be a grandfather again.”

Lexie’s eyes widened and she laughed out
loud.

“What? You don’t think I’ll be a good
grandpop
to your young ’
un
? I have
references, you know. Three of them.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His
excitement bewildered
Lexie
. Maybe Mr. Riley truly
did love Andy like a son.