Rebel

by Beverly Jenkins

  Determined to remain respectful, she held on to her temper. “As I explained in my letter, I’m a teacher here. I’m not leaving them, or my husband.”

  “You will do as I say.” He was a big man, accustomed to using his size to get his way, but he was a good four inches shorter than the still-seated Drake, and his build was nowhere near as powerful.

  “I’m sorry, Father, but I won’t. I have a life here, now.”

  “I don’t care about that. When we get home, I’ll look into getting this so-called marriage dissolved. I didn’t approve it, so it won’t stand.”

  “It doesn’t need your approval. It’s all legal and aboveboard. I’m happy here. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “You’ll be happier at home. Now, come.”

  “I’m sorry. I won’t be returning with you.”

  “You will not defy me, Valinda.”

  “Father, I’m sorry.”

  “You ungrateful girl. Do you think I enjoyed knowing you engaged yourself to that nasty little nancy boy, Cole?”

  She gasped at the vulgar slurring.

  He gave her a brittle smile. “Did you think I didn’t know about him and what he does? Everyone back home does. I’ve been shamed enough by you!”

  She gritted out, “Go home, Father.”

  He shouted, “You will do as I say!” He raised his arm to strike her only to be stopped mid-swing by a furious Drake, who grabbed him, slammed him hard into the wrought-iron wall of the gazebo, and pinned him there with a muscled forearm against his throat. “Have you lost your mind?” he snarled.

  Her father cried out with surprise and pain, clawing ineffectively at the iron arm cutting off his wind.

  Valinda looked up to see her mother, her sister, and a man whose face made the hairs rise on the back of her neck. It was Reverend Comer, the man from her dream, the man who’d been seated on the wagon bench beside her father. He eyed her malevolently. She turned away. “Mother? Caroline?” Caroline was dressed in black.

  Still holding her father in place, Drake turned and scanned the shocked faces.

  Having no idea what this all meant and deciding to let her father live at least long enough to get an explanation, she said, “Drake, darling. Let him go.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  He grudgingly complied.

  Ignoring her father’s coughs and gasps as he fought to restore his breathing, she trained her attention on the others. “Let’s go into the parlor. This way, please.”

  Inside, she shared a strong hug with her mother, and a teary one with her beloved sister. Val wondered if the black attire meant her husband had passed away, but kept her questions for later, and took her seat. Her angry Drake stood possessively by her chair. “Mother, Caroline, my husband, Drake LeVeq.”

  They nodded his way.

  He nodded in response.

  Her father joined them, glowering around a few last coughs.

  Valinda glanced over at the reverend. Oscar Comer was short, paunchy, and a bit older than her father.

  Viewing Drake disdainfully, he said, “I came to redeem your soul for aligning yourself with a perverse fornicator and was led to believe you’d be my wife.” There was cold fury in the look he shot at Drake and then her father.

  “And she will be,” her father insisted.

  Caro gave a tiny disbelieving shake of her head. “Father, do you not see that man standing beside Valinda?”

  Her mother stared. She seemed as surprised as Val by Caroline’s show of spine. Unlike the rebellious Val, Caro had always been meek and retiring. “I’m sorry you were misled, Reverend.”

  “So am I, but I can still save you from burning in the fires of hell.”

  “What happened to your wife?” When she left New York, he’d been married to a quiet woman named Bethany.

  “She died a month ago.”

  “My condolences. But as you can see, I’m not available to replace her at your side.”

  “Renounce him, marry me, and you’ll be saved from the pit.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Drake said, “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but, Reverend, you should probably leave. Now.”

  The reverend bristled but he was in no shape to take on Drake and he knew it. He turned on her father. “The hack that brought us is still outside because your father assured me he’d have no trouble fetching you, and had the driver wait. Since that was misleading as well, I will leave you. Mr. and Mrs. LeVeq, may the lord have pity on your souls. Harrison, I expect my money the moment you return home. Good day.”

  Her father jumped to his feet. “Wait! Oscar, we can resolve this.”

  “Do you have the money you owe me?”

  “No. Not at this moment, but I—”

  For the first time, Drake entered the conversation. “How much does he owe you, Reverend?”

  “Six hundred dollars.”

  The staggering amount stopped Val’s heart. What was it tied to? How long had it been owed? She glanced Caroline’s way and saw her staring off into the distance, her face sad. Her mother on the other hand wore no expression. Val had so many questions.

  “I’ll see myself out,” Comer said, and left the parlor.

  “Oscar, wait!” Her father scurried after him.

  Val asked her mother, “What is this about?”

  Before she could respond, Caroline replied bitterly, “Father thinks he’s a slave owner. He planned to sell you to erase his debt, just as he did me. He gambles.”

  Val’s mouth dropped.

  Caroline turned on their mother and snarled, “How could you let him do that to me?”

  Her mother replied softly, “I had no choice. You know how he is. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not enough! My husband was an awful little man. God forgive me but I’m so glad he’s dead.”

  Val looked up at Drake. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her an empathetic squeeze.

  Caro added, “I told Father I wanted to help him convince you to come home. But truthfully, I came to say goodbye, Val.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I took every penny my husband had in the bank and I’m going to use it to start life somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

  Her mother gasped, “You can’t.”

  “And I never want to see you or Father ever again.”

  Tears in her eyes, her mother looked away from Caro’s quiet wrath. Her pain was plain.

  Drake said, “You’re welcome to stay here if you need time to think about what you want to do.”

  The generous offer filled Val’s heart. She reached up and covered his hand resting on her shoulder.

  Her sister looked between them. “I’d like that.”

  “Then consider it done,” Val said.

  Her father reentered the room and announced, “We’re going back to the train station. Let’s go. The hack driver’s only going to wait a few minutes more.” Apparently, his conversation with the reverend hadn’t been resolved to his satisfaction.

  Caro turned to him. “I’ll be staying, so I’ll get my trunk.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  Drake moved to Caroline’s side. “I’ll bring it in. Come and show me which one is yours.”

  Her father looked about to say something else, but a cool stare from Drake seemed to make him swallow his words. Drake escorted Caroline from the room.

  “Mother, do you wish to stay, too? You’d be welcome.”

  Her father’s eyes widened, and Val wondered if he’d ever considered what his life would be like without her, but her mother shook her head. “Your grandmother needs me.”

  Val understood. “Tell her I send my love, and that Drake and I will be up to visit her before the weather turns cold.”

  Her mother smiled. “She’ll like that.”

  Her father declared, “Consider yourself dead to me, Valinda.”

  That saddened her, but it was to be expected. He’d come to New Orleans with fier
y expectations that were now ash. He wasn’t accustomed to losing and this was the response he felt would hold the most weight. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Have a safe journey home.”

  He gave her such an odd look, she asked, “Did you expect me to beg or cry? I have a husband who loves me with all his heart, and I love him even more. If you don’t wish to be a part of our lives, so be it. We won’t love each other any less.”

  She looked over and saw Drake standing in the doorway. It was the first time she’d publicly stated her feelings for him and she was glad he’d been there to hear them. He smiled. She smiled in reply.

  Her parents left.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As spring merged into summer, Val melted in the heat. Her sister, Caro, had settled into a small town in California and opened up a small seamstress shop. From her letters, she seemed to be happy and Val was happy for her. Drake said they’d go and visit sometime next year.

  Her school was thriving. They lost a few children due to their parents needing them in the fields, but she made sure they were sent home with the extra books from the third order of readers Julianna had delivered. Now each student, both child and adult, had a copy of their own. The parents of the children who had to work in the fields promised their children would return to school in the fall.

  Having always been a baseball fan thanks to her late grandfather and his love of the game, she had Drake and Hugh field a nine-man team each. They used the open field by the school to stage the game. She sold tickets at a penny a piece to freedmen and a dime to everyone else. Many people showed up and the game went well until some carpetbaggers in the crowd began taunting some of the Republicans and a brawl ensued. Some people demanded a refund, but she refused. The money went to pay for school supplies for some of the freedmen.

  Val didn’t hear anything from her father after his departure and she and Drake had a talk about Cole and Lenny. He understood why she and Cole had wanted to marry. He praised her for her loyalty to her friend and revealed that he had a cousin in Cuba who took male lovers, but the family didn’t care. The cousin was one of the best boat builders on the island and the only person Rai trusted to build his ships.

  The supremacists continued their violence against the freedmen. There was talk of Congress working on deals that might pull the Army out of Louisiana altogether. Everyone was convinced people of color would truly suffer if that happened, so they prayed the politicians wouldn’t leave the race adrift.

  Val’s favorite student, Miss Delia, died the day after the Fourth of July. As she’d requested the funeral was held on the school grounds. Her grandson, Micah, had no other family, so Drake hired him as a laborer, and until he got on his feet, Julianna let him live in the small apartment above her coach house.

  Drake began work on their house. He hoped to have it finished and ready to move into by the New Year.

  In late September, Valinda was floating on air as she left the apartment of the midwife. She couldn’t wait to tell Drake her news. Thinking about how he might react, her musings gave way to surprise as she was suddenly grabbed by her arm and found herself face-to-face with her nemesis, Walter Creighton.

  He smiled nastily. “Come on.”

  He propelled her forward and dragged her down the walk. She screamed, “Let me go! Someone help me!”

  He gave her a strong shake and snapped, “Shut your mouth!”

  She swung a fist that landed on his shoulder. He reacted with a raised fist of his own but was distracted when she pointed and said, “There’s my husband! He’s coming to send you to hell!”

  Eyes round, he froze. As his head swiveled in the direction she pointed, his hold on her arm slackened, and Val broke free and ran.

  “Stop her!” he cried. “She took my money!”

  Val moved as swiftly as she could through the crowd filling the walk. Apologizing each time she slipped by people who greeted her sudden appearance with cries of surprise, she moved ahead. She knew if Creighton tried to forcibly do the same, a good citizen was going to protest being shoved aside by a man of color. And sure enough, when she took a quick look back, he was apologizing to a stout angry man in a suit while simultaneously attempting to keep her in sight. With him occupied, she thought it a good time to cross the street, so she stepped down, hiked up her skirt, and wove her way through the steadily moving traffic of horses, carts, buggies, and cows. Creighton took off after her. She ran over to an old farm wagon driven by an elderly Black man. “Sir! Can you give me a ride, please? Someone’s after me.”

  He immediately slowed just enough for her to climb up to the seat. He then slapped the reins on the back of the mule to keep in pace with the rest of the traffic.

  “Thank you!”

  A glance back showed Creighton running to catch the wagon and due to the traffic’s snail-like pace, he was gaining ground. “He’s still coming. Do you have something I can defend myself with?”

  The driver said, “There’s a shovel and a pickax in the bed underneath those blankets, if that’ll help.”

  Val crawled into the bed. The blankets were near the back gate. She chose the shovel. The wagon stopped. Her eyes jumped to the stalled traffic behind them and saw the sprinting Creighton’s triumphant gap-toothed grin.

  “Got a funeral up ahead, little lady. We may be here a spell.”

  The procession’s mournful but celebratory music barely registered as she focused on Creighton’s progress. He was almost upon them.

  “You going to be okay back there? I’m too old to be fighting for your honor.”

  She replied through her anger, “I believe so, but in case something happens, the man after me is named Creighton. My husband’s name is Drake LeVeq.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Creighton was now only a few feet away. She picked up the shovel and rose to her feet with it hidden behind her skirt. He latched onto the back of the wagon, quickly clambered up the gate, and she swung the shovel with enough fury to make the crowd at a baseball game erupt with a mighty cheer. He fell back onto the street. Not caring whether he was dead or alive, she tossed the shovel aside and retook her seat.

  The old man stuck out his hand. “Name’s Abraham Lincoln.”

  Stunned, she chuckled. “Valinda LeVeq.”

  “Freedmen’s Office said I could name myself anything I wanted after Freedom, so this is what I chose.”

  “Honored to meet you, Mr. Lincoln.”

  “Same here.”

  The traffic began moving again. She looked back to see Creighton being confronted by the man in the suit, but this time a policeman was there as well. Not caring about his fate, she turned to face the road. “Can I trouble you to take me to the Christophe? I’ll pay you for your trouble.”

  “I don’t need any money. The day my master went to war, I dug up all the gold he’d had us bury the day before. I’m set until the good lord calls me home.”

  She chuckled. “I appreciate your kindness.”

  “And I appreciate you making this a real exciting day. Can’t wait to get home and tell my wife.”

  Later, upon hearing Valinda tell the story, Drake laughed. “His name was Abraham Lincoln?”

  Val was lying in bed in their room at Julianna’s cuddled against the protective cocoon that was her husband. “The Bureau told him he could name himself whatever he wanted, so he did.”

  “And you know he’s probably not the only one who took that name.”

  She did. “I don’t think I want to name our child that though.”

  She felt him stiffen.

  “Especially if it’s a girl.”

  He turned so he could see her face. “You’re carrying?”

  “Yes.”

  He roared and grabbed her up and rolled her on the bed like an alligator. Laughing and screaming, she cried out, “Stop before we end up on the floor!”

  He stopped, and stared down at her with wondrous eyes. “I’m going to be a father.”

  “Yes, and I hope it’s a girl. I�
�m not sure the world can handle any more male LeVeqs.”

  He grinned.

  She tenderly cupped his bearded cheek and kissed him softly. “Thank you for loving me. You proved love does exist and it changed my life.”

  He pulled her close. “You’re welcome. Thanks for your love as well.”

  As they drifted off to sleep, Valinda Lacy LeVeq prayed for a strong, healthy baby girl who’d be as generous as her pirate father and as rebellious as her hellion mother.

  She was proud of the life she’d carved out for herself. She’d dared to come to Louisiana alone. Then dared to help the freedmen and believe she could start a school. But the best one? Daring herself to accept Drake’s love. The old fortune-teller’s words rose in her mind: You will lose a love, reject a love, find a love.

  Pleased that the prophecy had proven true, Val smiled and slept, dreaming of her daughter.

  But she had a son. They christened him Raimond Drake LeVeq. He weighed eight pounds, nine ounces, and came into the world roaring like a bear.

  Author’s Note

  I’m always excited to start a new series. Setting this first book in New Orleans, one of my favorite cities, made the writing even more of a joy. Since Winds of the Storm, my readers have begged for another visit to the House of LeVeq, so I’m hoping you enjoyed meeting Drake and Valinda, and looking in on Raimond and Sable and the rest of the family.

  Reconstruction was a very volatile and bittersweet time. Dr. Eric Foner terms it “America’s unfinished revolution,” and I heartily agree. The years 1863–1877 held such promise, not only for the newly freed but for the nation as well, only to have the politicians set the race adrift during Redemption. However, Reconstruction gave rise to the historically Black colleges, public education in the South, and eventually the Great Exodus of 1879. Fifteen Black men were elected to the U.S. House of Representatives from 1870 to 1887, and two men of the race served in the U.S. Senate: Hiram Revels and Blanche Bruce, both from the state of Mississippi. Such numbers wouldn’t be matched again until the latter part of the twentieth century.