The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) (9 page)

Warmth radiated from him and
Lexie trembled at his nearness. “Robert,
please.
.
.don’t.”

He towered above her slight
frame, and when he leaned closer, Lexie felt as though she were being engulfed
in a wave of warmth. The feeling both excited and terrified her. She tried to
summon the image of Andy’s face, but everything was a blur except Robert, who
stood close enough that if he moved an inch, his lips would be on hers. How
long had it been since she’d felt wanted? Desired as a woman? How long since
she’d felt the press of soft, thick lips against hers? Lips that trailed to her
neck and ignited the sort of passion that led them to the bedroom?

“Lexie?” Mama’s voice
preceded her presence in the front hallway. Robert stepped back.

With a relieved sigh, Lexie
shrugged and grinned up at Robert. His amused expression warmed
her.
. .and worried her. If he had been upset by the
interruption, she could have despised him, but his good-humored acceptance made
him all the more appealing.

“Good-bye, Robert.” She
opened the door,
then
moved aside while he stepped
across the threshold.

“Good-bye, Lexie-girl.” He
tossed her that award-winning smile. “Your husband has every reason to be
worried, because I mean to have you for myself.”

Before
Lexie
could respond, he tipped his hat, shoved his hands inside the pockets of his
pleated slacks, and exited the house, whistling to himself.

Christmas Eve, 1861

Thomas is here at last. My
joy in seeing him is marred by my present circumstances, but I cannot help but
glory in his presence. Of course, I will have no opportunity to be alone with
Thomas during his family’s
week-long
stay, but I hope
to catch a glimpse of him from time to time.

Camilla is determined to
have Thomas for herself, but I believe it is only to spite me. I pretend I
don’t
care.
. .but I do. She will never love him the
way I do. There isn’t enough love in her heart to warm a flea, let alone a man
like Thomas. I hope and, yes, even pray that Thomas will not be fooled by her
ruse. I wish for him to fall in love with a woman who truly loves him the way I
do. But I cannot say these things to my beloved. When he sees me again, he will
be ashamed at what I’ve become. But he is not alone, for I nearly die of shame
daily.

Chapter Five

A haze of smoke hovered over the table in
the club, providing just the right atmosphere for Andy’s foul mood. He
swallowed down his third shot of whiskey. This time the amber liquid didn’t
burn quite so much. Either that or he was becoming numb. He preferred the
latter. He wanted to become so numb he couldn’t hear the sound of Lexie’s voice
screaming in his mind.

It’s your fault, Andy. You left me
alone when I needed you. You drove me into the arms of another man.

Robert’s image gave him a taunting smile
just before he buried his face in the tender curve of Lexie’s neck. Andy
growled and drained another shot.

“Honey, you’re going to have to stop
thinking so much.”

He blinked at the sound of Ella’s voice.
He’d forgotten she was even there. With a lazy smile she kept her eyes focused
on his and leaned forward to light her cigarette from the candle on the table.
His gaze flickered to her revealing neckline and then settled on her lips. They
puckered slightly as a trail of smoke escaped and curled seductively into the
air. She put the cigarette in the ashtray and smiled.

“Come on,” she said softly, her
smoldering eyes inviting. “Let’s dance.” She stood as though taking no for an
answer was completely out of the question.

Andy allowed her to pull him up. Blood
rushed to his head and he made a quick grab for the table to steady himself.

“Easy there, Yankee boy.”

She took his hand and led him toward the
dance floor. The band played while the singer crooned
Embraceable You
in
a poor imitation of Nat King Cole. Andy stumbled on the slight step-up to the
dance floor and collided with a hard body.

“Hey, watch where you’re walking, boy.”

Andy turned and focused on the deep
southern drawl. He glanced up into a red-blonde beard. “I don’t like being
called ‘boy.’
” Angered to see a young,
black beauty in the white man’s arms, Andy sneered. “What’s the matter, can’t
you find one of your own kind to dance with?”

“Boy, you better shut your mouth before I
forget my manners.”

Heedless of the warning in the young
giant’s voice, Andy continued to vent, all the while seeing Henry’s rotten face.
“All you white boys are the same, aren’t you, Bubba? Our girls are good enough
for fun, but don’t let anyone see you coming back from the slave quarters.”

“Leave it alone, Rafe, please,” begged
the young black girl in his arms. “He’s just drunk.”

“That’s right.” Ella grabbed Andy by the
arm and tugged. “Come on, Andy. You promised me a dance.”

Andy jerked away. “I don’t like you,
Bubba. I don’t like your kind.” He turned to the girl, whose eyes flashed in
anger. “And you should be ashamed, turning your back on your own kind and
dancing with
this.
. .” He pointed at the white man.
“.
. .this
massuh
.”

Rafe glared down at Andy. “Let’s take
this outside.”

“Fine by me.”

“Please don’t, Rafe. What do we care if
he doesn’t like us dancing? He’s just an ignorant drunk. Let’s go, please. Come
on, baby. Don’t ruin our time together.”

Rafe looked into her pleading eyes and,
for an instant, Andy recognized a look of tenderness. But when he fixed his
steely baby blues on Andy, all traces of tenderness were gone. “Sure, Baby,” he
said, never taking his iron gaze from Andy’s. “We’ll go.”

Ella breathed a sigh of relief as they
walked away. She turned to Andy with reproachful eyes. “Honey, you’re going to
have to ease up. Rafe and Ruthie have been seeing each other for two years.
They’d get married if her family would go for it. And I’d bet my last dime it
won’t
be long before they run off and do it anyway. Rafe is
good to her. Always has been. And I’ve never seen a man more in love. You’re
lucky his sweet Ruthie can’t stand violence, or Rafe would have flattened you
and hung you on Georgie’s wall for decoration.”

“I’d like to see him try it,” Andy
sneered.

Ella grinned up at him as she wrapped her
arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t. I you’re your face just the way it is. Besides,
I thought we were going to dance.”

Her soft curves distracted Andy, clouding
his senses. He could see her mouth moving, but had no idea what she said.

“Huh?”

“Never mind, Honey, we don’t have to
talk.” She laid her head on his shoulder and began to sway with the music. “My
sweet embraceable you.” She sang, her breath tickling his neck.

Andy’s blood warmed, despite his
confusion. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, drinking in
her sweet scent. She stroked his head, his shoulders, his back until,
unable
to take any more, he pulled away, enough so that he
could look into her dark eyes. Her message was clear. Suddenly he couldn’t
remember why he was resisting her in the first place. It had been months since
he’d held a pliable woman in his arms. And he liked it.

Unbidden, Lexie’s face
came to his mind.
He hesitated, guilt sifting the desire from him. Then,
as quickly, came the memory of Robert.
With
his
family.
Just how far had Lexie allowed Robert to replace him anyway?

“Are you okay?” Ella’s soft voice broke
through. He watched her lips as they formed his name. “Andy?”

 
In an instant
he covered her mouth with his, then became lost as she softened against him,
kissing him back with
a fervor
that fed his passion.

The music ended and Ella pulled away,
bringing Andy slowly to his senses.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what
came over me.” But he did know. She was a willing body and he was a
warm-blooded man trying to forget that the woman he loved wanted someone else.
And he had no one to blame but himself. “Let’s go, okay? I need to walk off
this booze.” He stumbled as if to punctuate his words.

Ella chuckled and took his arm. “Not much
of a drinker, are you?”

Andy tried to focus on his feet, wishing
the floor would be still before he fell on his face.

“Oh, boy. You’re sloshed. Wait here,” she
commanded. “I’ll get your hat and jacket and we’ll be just in time to catch the
last bus home.”

Andy leaned heavily against the wall for
support. He watched the people walking by; they swayed and Andy swayed with
them.

“Whoa, there, Yankee boy.” Ella caught
his arm. “Careful. You just about hit the ground.”

The humid warmth of the evening did
nothing to alleviate Andy’s spinning head. If possible, he felt worse. Time
seemed to stand still and run together at once, and Andy regretted taking that
first drink. Without Ella he would be helpless. Men and women on the sidewalks
hooted and called to them as they walked past.

“Ella, Sweetie,” one man sneered, “what are
you doing wasting your time with that fool? You know you could be taking me
home and tucking me into bed. All he’s going to do is pass out.”

“You can dream if it makes you happy,
Leroy,” Ella shot back. “You know that’s all of me you’re going to get.”

Indignant, Andy tried to locate the
offensive man, but Ella held him firmly by the arm. “Lemme teach him how to
speak to a lady.”

She laughed. “Honey, you’re having
trouble speaking to a lady yourself. Besides, if I let you go you’ll fall on
your face, and how’ll I look then? I have my pride, you know.”

Andy stopped and grabbed her, suddenly
filled with an onrush of gratitude. “You’re so nice, Ella. I like you. And I
like kissing you.” He leaned forward. Ella’s eyes grew enormous and she gasped,
looking past him.

“Rafe, no!”

The earth spun, and Andy came face to
face with Rafe’s hard eyes and fist.

*****

Something bit into Andy’s lip as he
slowly came to consciousness. He tried to sit up, but pain slammed into his
head and sent him back down with a moan.

“Don’t try to get up, Son. Ol’ Rafe sure
did a number on you.”

Andy struggled to open his eyes. Panic
rose inside him. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Your right eye is completely swollen
shut and the other one probably will be by morning.”

It all came back to him. Rafe. “Who are
you?”

“Dr. Mayfield. A friend of Buck and
Lottie’s.”

“I’m back in my room?”

“Yep.”

“So what’s the damage?” he asked. “How
long before my eyes work again?”

“A few days maybe. You probably have a
concussion, and your ribs are definitely bruised, if not cracked. I have them
taped, and I advise limited to no movement for the next several days. Do you
want to know how Ella is?”

“Ella?” Alarm shot through Andy. “Did he
hurt her?”

“No. She’s fine. Lucky for you, she
stepped between you and Rafe or you probably wouldn’t be with us.”

“There were at least twenty black men on
the street. How come they just stood by and let a white man beat one of their
kind senseless?”

“Let me tell you something. Everyone
around here knows Rafe. He’s helped more families than I can count in more ways
than I can count, and he does it because he wants to. He’s in love with one of
ours, but of course he can’t marry her. You, on the other hand, are a married
man, kissing and groping one of our girls in public, so drunk you can hardly
stand without help.”

Shame cut a line in Andy’s heart and he
swore to himself never to touch another drop of booze as long as he lived. His
head pounded, and he wished the doc would just give him some aspirin and let
him sleep. But the doctor didn’t seem inclined to put him out of his misery
just yet.

“Loyalty runs deep around here. And those
men on the street, who you think should have come to your rescue...Rafe has
their loyalty because he’s earned it. You insulted little Ruthie. Ten men would
have been happy to do the same thing Rafe did to you. So be glad he didn’t give
them each a turn at your face.”

“As bad as I feel, I don’t think a few
more blows would make much difference anyway.”

The doctor chuckled, and Andy heard his
bag snap shut. “You might be right. Take it easy, and I’ll be back to see you
in the morning. I left some pills by your bed in case the pain gets too bad.
But I wouldn’t get too used to them if I were you.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

The door closed and Andy settled back. What
was he supposed to do now?
Lexie’s
mother was right.
If she’d told him once, she’d told him a hundred
times,
he was his own worst enemy. And right now, he was inclined to agree. Still, if
he couldn’t see to read, he’d never get his research finished. He groaned and
slammed his fist against the bed.

His body felt like he had been hit with a
wrecking ball, and he longed for Lexie’s soothing touch. She always seemed to
know just what kind of care he needed when he was sick.

 
He drifted to
sleep, dreaming of her sweet voice and gentle hands.

*****

After hours of fitful sleep, Lexie awoke,
unable to shake the feeling of dread – her constant companion since
Robert’s visit two nights before. She shook her head in the predawn darkness.
How could she have come so close to allowing another man to kiss her? Not only
had she almost allowed it, she’d been disappointed when they were interrupted.
Had she completely lost her sense of morality? She cringed to think what Mama
and Pop would say if they knew. Mama had said plenty at the mere suspicion
after Robert had left.

“God, what am I going to do?” She thumbed
the gold band Andy had lovingly slipped onto her finger eleven years ago. A
smiled touched her lips at the thought of him so long ago. Fresh out of college,
he had worked in her parents’ cafe while he pounded the pavement trying to find
a writing job. Filled with ambition, he had been rejected by every white-owned
and -operated newspaper in Chicago until Mr.
Daniel
Riley of the
Chicago Observer
had called
him, offering him a job writing obituaries and selling advertisements to local
businesses. For some reason, Andy had resisted, but finally, at Lexie’s
insistence, he agreed to go to work for the man. Only later had
Lexie
realized the two men shared some sort of past. Though
Andy refused to discuss it.

He’d moved up quickly, despite the
resentment he was forced to contend with every day from his coworkers. White
men who felt Andy should work for the
Defender
or another exclusively
black newspaper. But Andy wanted real exposure in the mainstream. He wanted to
report on black issues. But also white issues. American issues.

 
Andy firmly believed in fighting
ignorance with truth. If coloreds were ever to gain equal footing with the
whites, he believed it would come as a natural progression of integration into
white society. Not by fighting or demanding rights. Lexie had told him he was a
dreamer. No white paper was going to hire him. But he refused to give up, and
he had been right.

 
Lexie still didn’t understand how it had
happened. Mama said, “Some things you just have to leave in the hands of
almighty God and thank Him for the miracles when they happen.” But even she had
to admit, this one was a mighty big miracle, and it wasn’t as though Andy was a
praying man.

With Andy’s first paycheck and the money
they’d saved during two years of marriage, they had moved out of Mama and Pop’s
basement and into their own little flat. They were so happy back then. Lexie
did domestic work, and Andy came home each night, his hands covered in ink. He
was ecstatic. Filled with dreams for the future, of the day when they would
have a home of their own, a car. And children.
Lots and lots
of strapping boys to carry on his name.
Tears pricked Lexie’s eyes.
She’d failed him in that department. Twice.

Andy said it didn’t matter. But to Lexie,
it was all that mattered. She wanted him to have his dreams. And she had ruined
this one for him. No wonder he never came home to face the reminder. No wonder
he wanted to be with other women. What could a man like Andy possibly want with
half a woman?

*****

Andy leaned against the four propped pillows on his bed and
tried to organize his thoughts into anything that might make sense for a first
chapter.
An award-winning book that would launch him right
into the
New York Times
or the
Washington Post
.
He would love to
move Lexie to New York City.

A light tap on the door distracted Andy
from his Fifth Avenue fantasy. He glanced up,
then
scowled. Even after three days, he couldn’t see a blasted thing through his
swelled eyes.

“It’s me, Andy. Can I come in?”

Irritation rolled through him at the
honey-toned southern drawl. This was all Ella’s fault. If she hadn’t been
trying to seduce him with her luscious curves and perfume and soft
lips.
. .

“Andy? Are you sleeping?”

“Come in,” he said grudgingly.

She did.

“What do you want?”

“Well, shoot, Andy. You don’t have to be
so snarly. I just came to change your bedding.”

“I don’t need it changed.”

“Yes, you do. And I’m opening a window.
It stinks in here. Now, what do you want to wear today?”

“Are you going to change me, too?”

“Not unless you want me to, Sweetie.” She
kept her voice low and suggestive.

“What I’m wearing is fine. It’s not like
I can go anywhere.”

Ella clucked her tongue and released a loud
sigh.

“What?”

 
“Oh, nothing,” she said with another
sigh.

“Fine.”

“I just never took you for the type to
bull up and feel sorry for yourself.”

“Who says I am?”

“Ha!
Don’t
freshen my bed.
” Her mimicking tone sent heat to Andy’s ears. “
Let me stay in dirty, stinky clothes. I want
to pout because I got my face bashed in.
”

“Pout?”

“Yes. And let me tell you, Yankee boy,
you deserved that roughing up you got from Rafe.”

“So I’ve been told,” Andy said wryly.

“
Anyway.
. .”
Her tone softened. “There’s a bath running for you, and Buck’s coming up in a
few minutes to help you get up out of bed and down the hall. By the time you
get back here, I’ll have your bed all nice and fresh for you. Now, what clothes
should I get out?”

*****

Andy returned to his room an hour later
to the scent of freshly starched linens, the sounds of traffic and laughter on
the street from the open window, and the clean scent of a dusted and swept
room. He had to hand it to Ella. She’d made things more comfortable.

He settled onto his bed just as Ella
returned with a tray. “I brought your lunch.”

Andy wasn’t particularly hungry, but
mealtime broke up the monotony of sitting in the half-light.

“Thanks.”

She set the tray on his lap, the soft
fragrance of her rose-scented perfume quickening his pulse. The bed moved as
she sat next to him. “Andy?”

“Yeah?” He felt around on the tray,
self-conscious to know she was watching his feeble attempts at trying to do a
task that he had always taken for granted. Eating. One of those things a person
should be able to do without thinking. But trying to find his
fork,
cut his meat, separate his food... He preferred to eat
alone, where he wouldn’t humiliate himself.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I think I’ll just wait awhile.”

“Shoot, Andy. Just eat. Here, take your
sandwich.”

Andy felt the bread in his hands and sent
her a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

“Now, listen. I talked it over with Mr.
Purdue, and he says I can stay up here and read to you for a while.” She
released a throaty laugh. “As long as I keep the door open.”

“That’s not really--” He was going to say
“necessary,” but she gave him no chance.

“Don’t mention it. You can’t just sit up
here every day all by yourself with nothing to do. You’ll go crazy. The least
we can do is read to you.”

“We?”

“Yep. Buck liked my idea so much he said
we can take turns.”

Andy shifted uncomfortably. “Why should
any of you put yourself out like this?”

He felt Ella lean closer. “To tell you
the truth, I like being around you. But Buck and Lottie are good people and they
just want to help.”

Andy’s blood warmed at her nearness. It
was probably a good thing that door had to stay open. “Okay, then. How about
grabbing the diary on the nightstand and you can start reading where I have the
place marked. And would you mind sitting in the chair instead of on the bed?
When you move it makes my ribs hurt.”
A small but necessary
lie.

She gave a low chuckle, obviously aware
of her effect on him, and moved away. “Okay,
Handsome,
here goes.”