The Willows (36 page)

Tomorrow, well, they could see what
happened then.

Chapter 16

Next morning, Gwen sat on the porch
swing, trying to calm snarls from her freshly washed hair. She’d
taken her bath at the crack of dawn, partly for privacy, but mainly
to distract her from disturbing thoughts

flinching as the comb got tangled in a
not, she decided that Michael did it on purpose, tossing out some
inflammatory remark, then taking off before she could argue,
leaving no opportunity to protest or make excuses. He left his
words behind like a swarm of angry insects, stinging and biting,
leaving her no choice but to turn and face them.

It was no pleasant thing, seeing
herself as others saw her.

She winced again, though this time, the
comb lay still in her hand. Michael had called her pain and selfish
and shallow, and she now knew why the words hurts. Deep inside,
down where she was still being honest with herself, she’d known he
was right

Even Mrs. Tibbs, a relative stranger,
had seen it. Gwen might have been angry at her words, but she saw
now that the woman had meant to warn her. All these years, Gwen had
been building a wall around her heart, letting herself get wrapped
up in her pain and problems. Mother’s death had jolted herself, she
slipped into a habit of saying, I don’t know how, and letting
others act and even talk to her, until she’d lost the will to do
anything on her own. No wonder everyone eventually turned away from
her. What use was she to father, to the children or even herself,
if she continued to run from every fight?

She took the comb and yanked through
the wet stance. The old Gwen would have wined, and called life
unfair, but the new Gwen was tired of being considered useless.
Perhaps she’d been full hearted, risking her life to grab
Christopher last night, but the impulse of act had been the first
thing she been proud of in a very long time. She’d been
terrified–she’d trembled for hours afterward–but seeing the boy
safe and unharmed at a filter with more happiness that she felt in
years.

Too bad Michael had spoiled it with his
comments.

The comb dropped to her lap as mine
flashback to the top, to what had so nearly happened between them.
No, she wouldn’t think about kissing him anymore. Hadn’t she’d been
up happened night, tossing and turning and wondering what might
have been?

Christopher proved to be a welcome
distraction by popping out the door. He stood on the steps, still
half asleep with his hair poking up at odd angles. He looks so
normal and alive, it was all she could do not to rush over and hug
him close.

From his tentative pose as he stared at
the river bank, he obviously half-dreaded, half-hoped to find out
gators in the water. “Jude was not lying. She did stand guard.
Eight no gators left.”

Gwen smiled as she thought of finding
the girl this morning, asleep on the swing, shock and still
clutched in her hands. She’d walk pass quietly, knowing how the
prickly Jude would hate to be caught napping on the job. Code of
honor, she vowed silently. Not even Christopher would learn the
truth from her lips.

“
Is it true?” He asked
suddenly, looking to face her with a worried frown. “Were you
really kissing Uncle Michael last night?”

Startled, Gwen open her mouth to deny
it, but she hated to base her new starts with the children on a
lie. “Why do you ask?”

Came over to stand beside her. “Jude
says you’re out to steal him away. They you want you to do get
married, so you can go live on your father’s plantation and leave
us alone in the Bayou.”

Clearly, she and Jude had to talk.
“That is not true,” she told him, her that anyone could believe her
so easily. “You know you’re on local would never leave you. He
loves you too much.”

Christopher shrugged. “Yeah, maybe, but
Jude says you can’t trust grown-ups. In the end, they always leave
you behind.”

It shocked her to here so bitter of a
conclusion from such a young child. She wanted to argue, but now
how could she convince him otherwise, when she’d so often felt the
same? Seeing it from both perspectives now, she saw how unfair
she’d been to her mother. She’d deliberately avoided all memories
of her, blaming her mother for her absence, blaming her for
dying.

Fingering the locket at her neck, she
suddenly wanted to put the anger, bitterness, and even guilt behind
her. Maybe then she could help this boy avoid making the same
mistake.

Taking Christopher’s arm, she spoke
gently. “Sometimes, people have no choice but to leave. They don’t
want to, but they have to. But every time someone leaves, I’ve
found, there is someone else to take their place if you let them.
You children might have lost your mother, but now you have your
Uncle Michael. You’ve got to know he’d fight the devil himself not
to leave you children alone.”

A slow smiled transferred over his
features. “Yeah,” he said, practically beaming, “we sure are lucky
we found Uncle Michael. And we are lucky she found you for us,
too.”

Gwen, who’d been smiling with him, felt
her lips drop. “Mistake,” had become a popular term used. Maybe she
should warn this boy that the day would soon, when she, too, will
be forced to say goodbye.

No, she thought stubbornly. She just
had to convince Michael otherwise. Glancing at the weathered porch
boards, the lush sprinkled vegetation, she now saw this as her
battlefield. If she stayed as bold as any knight, and twice as
valiant, she could yet prove her worth. One way or another, she
would win these children over, and before she left, she teach them
to read and write. When she at last went to her true love, when she
stood at the altar speaking her bows, she could face Michael with
pride and confidence.

Michael? Lance, she corrected silently.
It was Lance she must prove herself to, Lance she would
marry.

“
Who did this?” Jude screech
suddenly from inside the house. “Christopher, you little, get in
here this instant.”

The boy froze, eyes going round in wide
as he stared at Gwen. “The ham,” he said in a small voice. “I told
you she’d be mad.”

For a moment, Gwen felt like a child
again, at some mischief. It to the crash of a pot lid to snapper
back to reality. Jude was a little girl, for pity’s sake. If Gwen
hope to tame any of these children, it was time to take
charge.

“
That little thief butchered
my ham,” Jude flaunt out the instant the reach the pantry, her hand
poised to throw a skillet at the door.

“
Put that down.” Gwen used
what she hoped was an authority of tone. “I have already
demonstrated, tantrums encumbers nothing more than ruining
doors.”

If nothing else, she managed to
surprise the girl. Clearly confused, Jude lowered the
skillet.

“
That’s better. Now, before
you go around accusing your brother of anything further, I think
you should know I took the ham.”

“
You!” Making the word and
accusation, Jude glared at her.

“
Yes, me. I see no sense of
going hungry when there is food in the house, and as you well know,
I’ve been reduce to near starving.”

A slow flush crept into Jude’s cheeks,
but the girl held her ground. “You had no right,” she bit out. “I
was saving it for Michael’s birthday next month. I can’t make much
of a party with a half-eaten ham.”

To Gwen surprise, Jude began to
cry.

“
She wanted to make it
special,” Christopher explain in a whisper, tugging at Gwen’s
skirt. “To make sure he will never want to leave us.”

“
Be quiet, you little
chatterbox,” Jude lashed out at him. “Whose side are you on
anyways?”

Christopher seemed close to tears
himself. Squatting down beside him, Gwen and gave him a hug. “Jude
is a little upset right now,” she told him in a whisper. “I will
try talking to her, but maybe if you can go outside and pick some
flowers, it will cheer you up.”

“
Okay,” he said, smiling
again. “But make sure you talk nice.”

The boy sounded like his uncle, Gwen
thought as she rose.

“
I have nothing to say to
you,” she told her with a sneer after her brother had skipped
off.

Thinking of the boy’s request, Gwen
resisted an urge to correct his sister’s grammar. If she hope to
succeed with Jude, she’d need to use all her patients and cunning.
It will be no easy thing, convincing the stubborn child to give her
another chance. “It isn’t fair, asking your brother to choose
between us,” she began gently. “And there is no need. If you stop
being so contrary and start listening to reason, you will see you
and I are actually on the same side.”

Jude snorted. “Use that on Christopher.
He believes in fairytales, not me.”

Gwen sucked in a breath. “I am not here
to steal your uncle away from you, Jude. Last night by the river, I
thought you understood that. Code of honor, remember?”

Jude cocked her head, for a moment,
Gwen thought she had her, but she should have known the girl could
never be so easily won over.

“
Yeah?” Jude asked, even her
sniff seemed belligerent. “If you are so good at keeping secrets,
why did you tell Michael I was a girl?”

“
I don’t know. To be perfect
honest, he was yelling at me about being such a horrible person,
and it was the only thing I could think of to shut him up.’ Seeing
the start of a grin on her face, Gwen decided maybe honesty was the
best policy.

“
Well, you made a big
mistake of things.” True to form, Jude covered her amusement with
hostility. “Michael told us never to keep secrets from him. Now he
thinks ‘m any liar, and it’s all your fault.”

Again, she remembered herself that she
was the new Gwen, who didn’t snap at children are talked down to
them. “That is one way of looking at it,” said instead. “Of course,
a more practical person might say that you’ve got off easy, that I
did the hard part for you. Michael already knew the worst. All you
had to do was explain why you lied in the first place.”

“
Yeah, right. You would like
that, wouldn’t you, if he kicked me out of the house?”

The child was determined to be
difficult. Equally bent upon being patient, Gwen shook her head.
“The way he was hugging you last night, I doubt you will be going
anywhere. Besides, if he was going to kick anyone out, it would be
me, not you. Who would keep this place going, while he was gone?
Who would do the cooking and cleaning? I certainly
cannot.”

Jude slammed the skillet down on the
shelf. “I can’t see why he brought you here, anyway. Why doesn’t he
just send you home?”

“
He will.” Sooner than not,
she feared. “The only brought me here to repay some debt he thinks
my family and I owe him.”

“
You don’t? Owe him, I
mean?”

When nearly denied it, but the girl
deserved the truth. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Then, deciding to much
honesty could hurt, she hastily added, “but don’t ever tell him
that I said so.

“
You really expect me to
keep quiet, with the way you treat us?”

“
I would say we are even,
considering that snake.”

This time, there was a real smile, and
Gwen decided to take a chance. “I know you do not trust me, and I
realize I’m partly to blame, but truly, Jude, it’s in your best
interests that we work together.”

“
Yeah? What do I get out of
it?” Jude faced her with a cool glare that gave nothing away it was
hard to recall that she was just a child. The way Jude played her
hand, she could well be a riverboat gambler.

“
Think of it this way,” Gwen
explained, fighting exasperation. “Your uncle brought me here to
teach you and your brothers. The sooner you learn, the sooner I go
home.”

“
You will really go
away?”

She could hardly be flattered by the
girls eagerness. “Yes, but not until you have mastered your
lessons. Work with me, and I will go home. I will leave you and
your uncle alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“
I got a think on it more.”
The words were grudging, almost defiant. She was such a tiger, this
little girl, and Gwen suddenly hated the thought that she must one
day be tamed. How much of her spirit will be lost in forcing her to
become a lady? “Michael is not angry at you, you know,” she found
herself adding, hating to see the girls suffer the same doubts and
worries she had at that age. “If I were you, I would be more open
with him.”

“
He needs to know you love
him and trust him?”

“
What do you know of
Michael?”

What, indeed?

“
Just let him know how you
feel, Jude.” Gwen knew she was being a hypocrite, yet, she hated to
see this child make her mistakes. “Anything should happen to him
before you do, trust me, you will never forgive
yourself.”

“
Trust you?”

Gwen’s patients slipped, and the words
came tumbling out before she could stop them. “Go on, keep riding
me, but I lost my mother, too, you know. Worse, I said some
horrible things and she died before I could take them back. There’s
not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could do it over, that I
could just once tell her I love her, but she’s gone, and it’s too
damn late.”