Chapter Fourty-Five
I
N A TOWN THE SIZE of Byrd’s Creek, it wasn’t possible to go unnoticed. While staying at home as much as possible, the sisters ventured out several times during the week, leaving the children at home with Emmy. Gabriel looked enough like Thomas, at least from a distance, that the neighbors wouldn’t question his paternity, but Livvie couldn’t bear to think of disowning her son, saying she was just his aunt, and lying to all her friends.
Mrs. Smith had opened a small tea room in the building next to the general store. Formerly a small tailoring shop, the owner, Mr. Spencer, had moved back to his family home in New Jersey as soon as the Confederacy had been declared, and the space had sat empty during the war years. Always a gossip, and loving to bake, Mrs. Smith had found herself the proprietor of a bustling little business. By mid-morning each day there were a half dozen or more women sipping tea and finding out the latest news, and so many stayed over til early afternoon that Mrs. Smith started to serve a light luncheon.
Madeline and Livvie entered for the first time, delighted by the feminine decor of upholstered chairs, frowsy chintz curtains, mismatched pine tables and chairs, and a brick fireplace, cold now and filled with vases of flowers. Mrs. Smith greeted them each with a hug and kisses to both cheeks, and she sat them in the window so they could see the townspeople walking by. There were three other tables occupied, and a group of three old women sitting in front of the fire on cushioned chairs. All looked up and smiled when the sisters came in, and greetings were called out from around the small room. After smiling and waving, they sat down and picked up crisp shortbread cookies from a plate already on the table.
“Wyman hasn’t been seen since the other morning,” Livvie said. “Emmy’s been asking around.”
“If he has a brain in his head, he realized what he’d done once he sobered up, and skedaddled on home to his daddy in Savannah.” Madeline finished her cookie and picked up another. “These are delicious!”
“I guess you’re over the sickness?” Livvie asked.
Madeline nodded. “I think I’m three months along, and the only problem now is that I’m hungry all the time!”
Livvie laughed. “We’ll have to stay in Wadmalaw again, since you sure wouldn’t be carrying a baby again so soon, if anyone bothers to count.”
“Shh!” Madeline put her finger to her lips, looking around. “This is a room full of women, and they’ve got ears like rabbits.”
Looking around guiltily, Liv nodded. “You really think Wyman’s gone? Finally, and for good?”
Her sister shrugged. “I’m not sure anybody can say what he’d do in the state he’s been in. But if he comes again while we’re here, we’re sending for the sheriff.”
“I don’t want to see the sheriff…” She remembered the overheard conversation at Mrs. Hauser’s house, and the hard accusations Gingras had made against her husband.
“He doesn’t know… Well, he doesn’t know.” Mrs. Smith set a tea tray down in front of the girls, and they stopped talking while she arranged cups and the tea service in front of them.
“Will you be stayin’ for lunch, ladies?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, ma’am. Emmy’s expecting us. We left her alone with all the children, so I expect she’ll be watchin’ at the windows!” Madeline laughed, and Mrs. Smith joined her. Livvie smiled, but she was thinking about Wyman, and about Rafe.
When Mrs. Smith had gone over to the old women by the fireplace, Livvie said, “He scares me, Mad. Gardner saved me once, and Emmy the other day. But what happens if he finds me and no one else is around? He didn’t even notice I was holding a baby! He was…”
“Drunk,” Madeline said, sipping her tea.
“Crazy,” Livvie corrected.
Livvie and Madeline had planned to stay in Byrd’s Creek for ten days before returning to the Kinney farm. With their father traveling around the state garnering support for his Senate campaign, the sisters enjoyed visiting with Emmy, restocking their personal supplies from the general store, buying fabrics and planning new dresses, and being in a town rather than in the country. They hadn’t seen Wyman again, for which they were eternally grateful, and the fear that he had engendered began to fade.
On their last day they decided to visit Mrs. Hauser. Both girls had known her all their lives, and Livvie had become close to the old woman during her time with Mariah. Emmy gave them a wedge of pound cake wrapped in a pretty gingham cloth, and the sisters set out in the cool of the morning. They enjoyed the walk, and the weather was fair and mild for June, and before they knew it they were turning down the drive to the Hauser farm. As they got closer, they could see that several carts were parked in front of the wide front porch, and men were milling about.
Alarmed, Livvie gathered her skirts and hustled the final hundred feet. When she got closer, she could see that Sheriff Gingras and his two men were standing at the foot of the stairs, Mrs. Hauser, obviously distraught, at the top, and a stranger was sitting in a wagon, watching with an impassive face. When Mrs. Hauser saw the sisters she showed palpable relief.
“Livvie! Thank goodness!” she breathed.
“What’s going on?” Livvie flew up the stairs and gave the old woman a hug and peck on the cheek. With an arm around her waist she turned to the men. “Sheriff? Is something wrong?”
Gingras was flustered by the arrival of the Byrd sisters, that much was evident. He looked at his men, and then at the man in the wagon, before responding. “We told Miz Hauser here that this gentleman…” He gestured to the man in the wagon. “… Mr. Prescott, is arranging to buy her farm, and we were suggesting to her that she might want to move on out.”
Livvie leveled a cold stare at him. “Where is Mr. Prescott’s money? Mrs. Hauser, has he given you any money?”
Shaking her head, the old woman lifted her chin a little.
Good,
Livvie thought.
She hasn’t given in yet.
“Mr. Prescott, I don’t believe this farm is for sale,” Livvie said politely, the words sticky sweet but made of steel.
The man, in his mid-thirties, plump, and overdressed for June in the South, looked at the sheriff, then back at the three women on the stairs, plainly confused.
“I was told it was being sold off for back taxes,” he said, his accent marking him as from Massachusetts.
“By whom, sir?” Madeline asked. She had her hands on her hips and was staring down at the man with a fierce scowl on her face.
He stammered. “Uh…um, well, I was in, um, well, I was in Columbia and met a man, a very important man, from here, as a matter of fact, a Mr. Hugh Byrd, and he, um, well, uh, I was telling him that I was coming down to buy land, and he said he knew of some, uh, well, that, um, could be had. Because of taxes, do you see?” Mr. Prescott was sweating, big beads dripping down his face and onto his worsted wool coat.
“And have you gone to the county courthouse to verify Mr. Byrd’s claims?” Livvie asked. “Because I happen to know that all the taxes have been paid on this land. I took the money to the tax office myself.”
Prescott turned beet red, and Gingras’ men shifted in their saddles, plainly uncomfortable. Gingras himself merely glared at Livvie.
“They weren’t paid last year,” he said gruffly.
Madeline raised an eyebrow at him. “Interesting to have a sheriff who knows all about people’s taxes…” she mused.
Livvie smiled sweetly. “No, they were late, and Mrs. Hauser paid a price for that, to be sure. Fortunately, though, she sold off the back ten acres late last fall, to the Davies. Surely you know Red Davies, Mr. Gingras? Their land is the next farm off to the west?”
Gingras nodded reluctantly. The Davies farm wasn’t in Byrd’s Creek, but he knew everyone on the island.
“Red had been after that land for awhile, since it had a nice fresh water pond on it, good for his cattle. It would suit you well to keep abreast of more than just rumor, seems to me,” Livvie said, her arm still around Mrs. Hauser, who had stopped shaking. “And it also seems to me that your job is to protect the people of Byrd’s Creek and Edisto, and not scare them to death to suit some Yankee carpetbagger.” She smiled ever so sweetly at Mr. Prescott. “Bless your heart, sir, I guess you came a long way for nothin’. Come on, love, let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”
The three women turned and walked inside without a single look back, leaving the men seething and embarrassed at the bottom of the steps.
Chapter Fourty-Six
L
ATER THAT AFTERNOON, MADELINE AND Livvie pushed open the front door of the Byrd house, perspiring and exhausted. The day had turned hot, humidity stacking up until it felt like a wet quilt was pressing down on them as they walked back. A storm was brewing to the east, huge black clouds piling on one another, and the distant rumble of thunder kept them walking quickly so as not to get caught in a sudden downpour.
Laughing together over nothing, as they had when they were children, they closed the door and put down their parasols. Looking up they saw Emmy rush out of the kitchen, waving her hands and starting to speak, and then, behind her, their father’s study door open and Hugh Byrd step out. Both women stopped, and Emmy made an exasperated face before turning around.
“Girls, where have you been? I was in Charleston, and we decided to come home for the weekend for some rest and Emmy’s good food. I didn’t know you were visiting until Thomas and Sarah barreled into me as I came through the door.” He arched a brow, but that was the only expression on his impassive face.
“Daddy!” Madeline said, and rushed forward to kiss his cheek. “Where are the children now?”
Hugh waved vaguely towards the stairs, and Emmy said, “They be restin’, Miss Madeline, all of ‘em, ‘cludin’ the baby.” She looked at Livvie and barely raised her eyebrows. “Course, he’ll be hungry soon enough. He didn’t like that cow’s milk much.”
Livvie felt her face flush and quickly moved in to hug her father so he wouldn’t see. “We were headed back to the farm tomorrow, Daddy. It’s good to see you.”
“Why are you going back? Looks to me like your sister is just fine,” Hugh said. “I have need of you.”
Madeline said, “I’m doin’ better, Daddy, but Livvie has been such a big help to me, and I’m not strong enough yet to take care of all four children… not with Chloe in the fields now.”
“Pshaw!” her father said dismissively. “That’s ridiculous. I shall need Livvie with me, so Gardner will just have to get you some help.”
Livvie looked at her sister in panic. “No, Daddy! Really. I’m going back with her. We can see about me going with you later on… It’s still too soon.”
A young man appeared at the doorway, waiting politely for the conversation to die. He was of medium height but well muscled, with wavy auburn hair that curled around his ears and collar. His green eyes were intelligent and lively, his nose straight, and his mouth had a hint of perpetual smile. Sensing his daughters’ attention shift, Hugh turned his head and saw the man. He motioned him forward.
“Livvie, Madeline, this is Cole Sanderson, my assistant. Cole, my daughters.”
Smiling broadly, Cole made a small bow and said, “Ladies. I’ve heard much of you these past few months. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Madeline said with a bow of her head. Livvie gave a small smile. Suddenly a baby’s squawl pierced the hallway.
“Daddy, we’ve got to go tend the children. Mr. Sanderson, so nice to meet you.” Livvie turned with a swirl of skirts and ran up the stairs, Madeline following behind.
“What are we going to do?” hissed Livvie, trying not to disturb Gabriel at her breast. “Daddy’s brought that, that
boy
for me, and he means for me to go off with them!”
“I can have a relapse,” Madeline said, bouncing Rebecca on her knee.
“We need more than a relapse! Oh,
why
did he have to come back today? We would have been gone in the morning.” Livvie felt tears building in her eyes, and was determined not to shed them. She was a married woman, a mother. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by her father as if she were a child.
“He might have just come to the farm after you,” Madeline said. They sat in glum silence for a bit, then Madeline said, “Cole seems a good sight better than Wyman.”
“Mad! I’m married! I’m holding my own baby! I don’t care who he is or how much better than Wyman Phelps!” Livvie cried, incensed.
Laughing at her outrage, Madeline set Rebecca on the floor with a doll and came and sat next to her sister. “I’m teasing you, Liv.” Turning serious, she said, “I don’t know how we’ll get you back to the farm, honestly. Clearly I’m not sick, and he seems to have made his mind up about you going with him.”
“Well I won’t,” Livvie said firmly. “I’ll just tell him so. He can’t make me.”
Madeline shrugged. Hugh Byrd could do a lot of things.
Cole joined them for dinner, and it was obvious that her father had already made this match in his head. He seated Livvie next to Cole, and spent much time extolling his virtues, such as his high marks at university, his service in the Commissary Department of the Confederate Army, his family’s great land holdings in western South Carolina and neighboring Georgia.
“Did you see fighting when you were in the Army,” Livvie asked innocently, knowing that the Commissary Department was universally despised for their inability to get the men the food and supplies they needed.
Cole shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Unfortunately, no. My father arranged my commission and post, and, as his only son, he didn’t want me put in harm’s way. Of course, I could have paid a substitute or even been excused because of my personal holdings of slaves, but I considered it an honor to serve my country.” His smile was genuine and friendly.
“Lucky for you,” Livvie said.
Cole shrugged. “A lot of great men died or were wounded, I know. We did what we could for them behind the lines.”
Irritated, Livvie stabbed a boiled carrot. Madeline was fussing with Thomas over his pile of peas, and Sarah was banging her spoon on the table and singing. Everyone ate in silence.
“I plan to leave Monday morning, Olivia. You will need some gowns, and your nicest day clothes,” Hugh finally said.
Livvie put down her fork, wiped her mouth with her napkin, set it down on the table beside her plate, and took a deep breath. “I’m not going, Daddy.”
Hugh stared at her, his expression hard and cold.
“I insist that you accompany me. As a widower, it is important that people see my family about me.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going. I don’t like traveling around, smiling at people I’ll never see again, saying the same things over and over. Madeline still needs me, and I’m content on the farm. I’m going back with her tomorrow.” Livvie adopted her father’s expression and knew better than to show any weakness.
Hugh studied her. “We have discussed this in the past, and I gave you your way because Madeline was ill. However, I shall insist that you obey me in this matter.”
“I’m not a child, Daddy, and I’ll not go.” Livvie felt heat rise up her neck, but her eyes didn’t waver, nor did the set of her mouth change.
Madeline and Cole studied their plates, afraid to look up into the battle of wills. Madeline felt vaguely sorry for Cole, the stranger in their midst, who had to spend his days with her stubborn father.
“Madeline,” Hugh said. Madeline jumped a bit in her seat.
“Sir?” she answered.
“Livvie insists you still need her help. For how long?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know. The birth was difficult, and I haven’t gotten my strength. And I… Well, I’m pregnant again.” Her cheeks turned bright red at making this announcement in front of Cole, but she couldn’t think of any other way to keep Livvie with her baby.
Her father threw his napkin down in disgust. “Don’t you and Gardner know how that happens? For goodness sake, woman, how many children are you planning to have?”
“As many as God allows, sir,” Madeline said softly. She glanced at Livvie and saw that her cheeks were still flushed, and she wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“And I suppose your esteemed doctor says you mustn’t extend yourself again, now you’ve been so stupid as to get with child this soon?” Hugh asked sarcastically.
“Yes, sir,” Madeline answered.
“Olivia, I’ll allow you to go back tomorrow with your sister. But you can be sure that you
will
travel with me before this election. Madeline, you will need to find help so that Olivia can go with me. In six weeks’ time. Do you understand me?” His steely gaze bore into both of them.
“Yes, sir,” the sisters said simultaneously. Thomas banged his cup with his spoon, toppling it, spilling milk all over the tablecloth. Both Livvie and Madeline jumped up, and Livvie fled the room to get a towel, and get away from her father.