The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 (20 page)

“Oh, she would find somewhere else to go. Once a Negro girl gets to do house work, you know she finds the fields degrading and those in the fields taunt her for her new, higher status in life. Dulcie is lost to us, just like all the others. Oh, I hate Corey McRae!” She clenched her fists at her sides. “Why did he take it upon himself from the moment we first met to make my life miserable? He even had the nerve to ride over here himself, right after we finished the house.”

“Oh, I remember that.” Jacob laughed. “He brung that big basket of fruit, and you yelled at him and tol’ him never to come back or you’d meet him with a gun. Then you threw that fruit at him, a piece at a time. Hit him right in the back of the neck with a peach, you did. Those of us who was a’watching rolled on the ground laughin’, the way it went a’dribblin’ down the back of that fancy white suit.”

“Don’t make me sound like a madwoman, Jacob.” Kitty had to suppress a smile as she remembered the sight, the way Corey had spurred his horse, trying to muster his usual dignity, peach juice dribbling down his neck. “He didn’t just come to bring me a basket of fruit and wish me well in my new home. He came to tell me how clumsily it was put together, how it would probably fall apart the first time we had a bad storm. And he asked me when would I come to my senses and marry him, that I had to realize Travis was dead. That’s when I went into a rage.”

Then they both giggled, but the moment passed. Kitty demanded once again the reason for Nolie’s sudden devotion. Jacob took a deep breath and then spoke the words that Kitty had feared. “Gideon. He slips in to see her here. She says he wouldn’t try it nowhere else. If you was to see him, you wouldn’t shoot him or sic the vigilantes on him. Ever’body else would. So she stays, ’cause she knows that’s the only way she ever gonna be able to see her boy.”

Kitty was quiet for long moments, then she murmured, “And Luther. Does Luther come, too, Jacob? Does he slip in with Gideon?”

He turned away, covering his face with his hands for a moment, then lifted his tormented face to the gray sky. “No, he don’t come. He knows I can’t hold to what he’s a’doin’, ridin’ around and stealin’. One of these days, somebody gonna get killed. It might be Luther. If he ain’t killed, he gonna get caught, and when he does, they gonna hang him, and Lord knows I can’t see my boy hung.” He lowered his eyes to the ground, his shoulders heaving. “I wants to see him, Miss Kitty, Jesus knows I do, but I can’t hold to what he’s a’doin’, so I told Gideon to have him stay away till he can come to his senses and come home for good. Gideon promised me he tried to tell Luther he was too young, and I believe Gideon. But Luther was always stubborn. I hear he’s one of the fiercest gunmen Gideon’s got. Oh, Lordy, Lordy, his momma has probably turned over in her grave by now.”

Kitty walked over and put her arm around the old man’s shoulders. “You tell Nolie that she is welcome to stay here as long as she likes, and that Gideon will always be safe here if I have anything to do with it. The same goes for Luther. I don’t approve of what they are doing either, Jacob, but the whole Southland is in a state of turmoil. It will be years before the agony starts to recede from these lands. If only Travis would come back and help us.”

“Do you really think he’s gonna come back?” Now Jacob sounded bitter. He turned to look into her sad eyes. “Miss Kitty, I hate to hurt you, Lord knows I do, but I think you better start thinkin’ about the truth. And the truth is, if he was a’comin’ back, he woulda done been back by now. You knows it, and I knows it.”

“Jacob, I just won’t listen to that kind of talk.” Kitty stiffened, her cheeks reddening. She lifted her skirts and started back for the little house. “Would you mind seeing if Noli’s girls will look down in the swamp for some herbs today? I’ve been feeling poorly, and I’d like to brew some herb tea. And when you get a chance, bring that tub in. I might as well use it, and if I leave it sitting out here, there’s always the chance someone will see it and think
I
stole it. Heaven forbid if anyone should think I’m a thief, in addition to the other sins they hold against me.”

She was almost inside the cabin when the sound of thundering hoofbeats echoed about them. “Jacob, see who that is,” Kitty said quickly. “If it’s Corey McRae, by God, I will meet him with a gun.”

She started inside, but Jacob called out for her to wait. “It ain’t Mistah McRae. This man’s ridin’ a yeller horse, one of them palominos, and Mistah McRae don’t nevah ride nothin’ but his black stallion or his white stallion.”

Kitty moved quickly back down the steps as fast as her condition would allow. She had just stepped onto the ground when the rider reined his mount to a halt a few yards away. His handsome face was unfamiliar, and her pounding heart skipped a beat as it settled back to a normal pace. It was not Travis, as she had fleetingly dared to hope. He was of average height and build, neatly dressed in buckskin pants with matching vest. Removing his tan suede hat, he bowed, his moustache twitching as he smiled. “Good morning, Miss Wright. My name is Jerome Danton.”

“I don’t believe I have heard the name,” Kitty said suspiciously.

Jacob turned to her excitedly and said, “I knows him now, Missy. Mistah Danton, he owns a store in town, called Danton’s Dry Goods.”

She nodded, looking straight into Jerome Danton’s hazel eyes. His hair was a dark auburn, streaked with gold, neatly trimmed a scant inch or so above his collar. “Why have you come here, Mr. Danton? I usually have no visitors.”

“I know.” He sounded almost pitying. “That is why I’m here. You see…”

Pausing, he looked pointedly at Jacob. Kitty turned to the old Negro and said, “Would you ask Nolie’s girls about getting the herbs for me right away, Jacob? I suppose I should offer my guest tea.” Reluctantly, Jacob turned away, casting wary glances over his shoulder.

Jerome laughed. Kitty liked the way his eyes sparkled. “Your servant is very devoted, obviously,” he commented. “He certainly did not want to leave you alone with me. Do I look that ominous?”

“I suppose everyone is ominous as far as Jacob is concerned, considering the way the good citizens of this county have treated me. Jacob is very loyal, and I am extremely grateful.” She started back up the steps and was about to invite him to follow when he moved swiftly to take her arm and help her up.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and they moved through the door. There was a small wooden table and two chairs. She gestured for him to sit, then set about poking wood into the stove and lighting a fire beneath a kettle of water. She again asked why he had come.

“Oh, I suppose a combination of reasons. First of all, I was curious to see the infamous Kitty Wright.”

She bristled slightly. “People never forget, do they? Forgive me if I sound rude, Mr. Danton, but I do not feel I owe you any narration about my past.”

“As I said,” he went on, “I was curious. I bought a dry goods store in Goldsboro and built onto it. It’s now the largest one in town. You would know that if you ever came into town, but I’ve heard you never do. Well, I began hearing about you from different people in the store, about your Northern cavalry officer, who promised to return but hasn’t, and about your dead fiancé, who died at the cavalryman’s hand. I also know about your father, his reputation as a brave Union soldier, and also about how everyone in these parts seems to have despised him.”

“Well, I do declare! You have a nerve, Mr. Danton, riding all the way out here to meddle in my private affairs. I think I shall have to ask you to leave without the courtesy of a cup of tea.”

“Now wait a minute, Miss Wright.” He held up a conciliatory hand. “I did not come here to talk about your past. I just wanted you to know that I know who you are. I think you have been treated extremely unfairly and I don’t believe a word of what I have heard. It is none of my business, nor am I concerned with gossip. Perhaps I had better start over and tell you exactly who
I
am, and then we can get into my reasons for being here.”

She nodded, taking a seat opposite him, still wary.

“I’m what the Southerners are calling a ‘carpetbagger’, ” he said, obviously amused. Kitty looked puzzled. He noticed her confusion and said, “My, you have been out of touch, haven’t you? The carpetbaggers are terrible people, my dear. We come down from the North and buy up Southern land dirt cheap, making a fortune from the spoils of war, taking advantage of the whipped Confederates. In my case, however, it is inaccurate of the citizens about to label me a ‘carpetbagger’. Actually, I am a Southerner, originally from Virginia. I fought for the Southern cause. When the war ended, however, it was to my advantage not to return to my home. I came here. For some reason, unknown even to myself, I decided to settle here. I bought the store, and now, as I have told you, it is the most prosperous in Goldsboro. But that is not enough for me, to be merely a shopkeeper. I believe in farming. I believe in the future of tobacco. Most of all, I believe in
land
. Which brings me to why I have come to see you.”

Kitty’s eyes narrowed once again, and she pressed her hands together in her lap. She sensed what was coming.

“You know the Griffin land that borders your land on the north side?”

She nodded slowly.

“And the Moseley land on your west side?”

Again she nodded.

“And the Temple property across the road, on the east?”

Exasperated, she cried, “Just what are you getting at, Mr. Danton? You are playing games with me, and I am in no mood—”

“I am getting to my point.” Again he held up his hand for silence. “I own all that property.”

“
You
own all that property? You bought out the Moseleys and the Temples and the Griffins? How was that possible? I don’t believe it. They must have had over two thousand acres between them.”

“Quite true.” He curled one tip of his moustache as he smiled. “They also owed quite a bit in back taxes, which they could not pay. Their Rebel currency was quite worthless. I bought the land for the delinquent taxes.”

“You scalawag!” She leaped to her feet, despite her awkward bulkiness. “You’re another vulture, preying on people’s misfortunes. Well, I can tell you one thing, Mr. Jerome Danton, you have come to the wrong place if you think you can swoop down and pick my bones. If you had taken the time to check the tax records, you would have seen that my taxes are not delinquent. At least not through 1864. You people make me sick! And I am happy to say you have wasted your time in coming to my door, sir.”

He ignored her outburst and continued in a calm tone. “I did check the tax records, Miss Wright, and I am well aware that your land is, at the moment, unencumbered. However, I did come here to offer you a handsome price for your land. By now, I think you should have come to your senses and realized that it is going to be impossible for you, an unmarried woman, soon to have a child to raise alone, to work this land. As I said, I hear many things in my store, and I have also heard how, little by little, Corey McRae has stolen your devoted Negro friends right out from under your nose. You are left with that old cotton-top nigger and an old nigger woman who happens to be the mother of the outlaw every white man is itching to kill. He even robbed my store one night. But that is beside the point. I am prepared to offer you a generous amount for your land.”

“You are wasting your time. I have no intention of selling my land.”

Jerome Danton’s amiable expression did not fade, though his voice was tight. “You will see the day come, Miss Wright, when you will beg someone to take this place off your hands. I might not be so generous then, however deeply your beauty touches my heart. I am a businessman, and I suggest you think this over carefully.”

There was a quick knock on the door. Without waiting to be told to enter, Jacob moved quickly into the kitchen, a bag of herbs in his hand. His fearful eyes went from Kitty to the man staring at her so intently. “I brung the herbs,” he said in a voice barely audible.

“Our guest will not be staying for tea, Jacob.”

“Jacob!” Jerome moved his gaze from Kitty to the old Negro. “I would like you to take a message to the mother of that outlaw Gideon. Tell her that if he dares rob my store one more time, I will track him down and hang him myself.”

Kitty saw Jacob’s hands tremble. She was not about to see her faithful friend be intimidated by the likes of Danton. “You will say nothing to Nolie, Jacob,” she spoke quietly. “She has enough worries without being frightened further.” To her visitor she said, “I will thank you to leave now.”

He got up slowly, moving toward the door, still watching her intently. “I mean what I say, Miss Wright, and I think you would do well to be warned also. That stove upon which you now cook was stolen from my store. I know, also, where that tub in the yard came from. It’s obvious that you are the recipient of stolen goods, which makes you as guilty as the thieves. Gideon and his band are apparently taking refuge here—”

“That is not true,” she screamed, slamming her palms on the wooden table. “I have not laid eyes on him or any of his men. I find these things in my yard, and I have kept them because I needed them. If you would like to send a wagon, I will be glad to return anything you claim is yours.”

“No, I am glad for you to have them.” He smiled, a nasty grimace. “As I have already told you, I am a man of means. A stove, a few things here and there, what are these to me? It angers me for someone to steal from me, true, but I certainly do not mind a needy woman having them. But you realize that I cannot let this continue.”