Cara sensed herself being lifted from the tub. She turned her head to his lips as he carried her. She’d no idea where they were going and didn’t much care as long as the kisses didn’t stop. She came to rest atop the white cotton runner covering the surface of what she vaguely recognized as the top of her writing desk, but she was more interested in placing her kisses against his solid chest and flicking her tongue languidly over the flat brown buttons of his nipples. She was rewarded for her devotions by his fingers opening her like a flower to bestow devotions of their own. And she loved every brazen stroke, every circling pass that made a moan slide from her lips. She supported herself on braced arms, legs parted to offer him better access, and felt her hips begin to rise in answer to his call. He bent to circle the tip of his tongue lightly over the whirl of her navel. Soft kisses were placed against the damp skin of each thigh. He moved lower to pay tender, wanton tribute and she let loose a lusty strangled cry.
He filled her a heartbeat later and her eyes closed. He didn’t move. She could feel herself pulsing around him and savored having him in the place she most wanted him to be. When he began to move he started slowly. The strokes were enticing, the first opening notes of a serenade she knew so well, and she responded by arching to receive more.
Chase obliged her. Watching her braced on her arms, the arch in her body offering her breasts so tantalizingly, added to the erotic memories he’d have of this night. The cotton runner beneath her slid in tandem with his thrusts. That sight also added to the blaze in his blood, making him increase the tempo to match the rise of his desire. The way her hips were answering him, enticing him, spurred him to lift her off the desk so he could guide her more commandingly.
The blazing contact sent Cara’s passions higher. She tightened her arms and legs around him to increase the smoldering sensations. She pressed against him meaningfully and without shame. She loved the slide of their bodies as she feasted on his raw male power. It didn’t take long for the climax to explode powerfully within her, making her cry out his name.
Watching her succumb with such fierce abandon, Chase smiled. Seconds later his hoarse cries were filling the silence as he gripped her hips in the glory of his release.
Cara, groggy with desire, had no idea how or when they’d come to be standing in the center of the room, but her legs were still wrapped around his waist, and he was holding her easily and without visible strain. They were also still joined, she realized. He began to move again. She sighed, and her head fell back as he stroked the lingering remnants of her desire.
“This part of our marriage will be very real, Mrs. Jefferson,” he said raspily, guiding her hips with a tender vigor that made her twist for more. “Very real.”
She gripped his corded arms, and then buckled as the world shattered into brilliance once again.
When Chase came down to breakfast, Cara greeted him with a shy smile. This was the first time she’d ever been with him on the day after making love; on the previous two occasions, she’d awakened alone. After being so wanton last night, she was a bit unsure how she was supposed to act.
He set her at ease by coming up behind her and pulling her back into the circle of his arms. He kissed her ear. She tilted her head up to look into his face and he craned his neck so he could set a kiss upon her lips. “Good morning, schoolmarm. I didn’t cause you any pain last night, did I?”
Cara, touched by his concern, reached up and stroked his cheek. “No. Delbert said after six weeks I’d be good as new, and he was right.”
“One for the good doctor then,” Chase replied, sounding pleased. He kissed her once more and then patted her on the butt. “What’s for breakfast, wife?”
Cara placed before him a plate of well-seasoned potatoes, scrambled eggs, slabs of ham, and three of her golden biscuits. “Cara Lee, you keep feeding me like this and Carolina’s going to have to put in for a new rider.”
“Good. Then you can stay home with me.”
She turned back to the stove to fix herself a plate, and therefore missed the odd look that came across Chase’s face. “Do you mean that?” he asked quietly.
The tone of his voice made her turn back. “Sure. Every woman wants her husband home, I think.” The look on his face gave her pause. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”
“No, I suppose not.”
Cara sensed that something had happened and that she’d missed whatever it was. “Chase?”
“It’s nothing, darlin’. Come sit and eat. I’m going to need a bath. Care to come and wash my back?” he asked with a grin and a couple of exaggerated winks.
Cara laughed, wondering if all married couples had so much fun.
Cara awakened the morning of January first, 1883, with Chase sleeping at her side and tried not to think about his leaving tomorrow. She’d been forcing her mind to skirt the subject all week, because of the pain it caused her heart. Instead she chose to dwell on his smile, his eyes, the way he’d made love to her the night, morning, or afternoon before. She replayed in her mind the rides through the snow they’d gotten into the habit of taking after breakfast, and the intimacy they’d discovered in reading to each other at night.
But she couldn’t put it off any longer. Tomorrow he would be gone. Gone until the army let him come back to her. He’d admitted the other day he had no idea when that would be, but he’d vowed to make it as soon as it could be arranged.
She trusted him to keep that promise, but he would be so far away. He had no plans to transfer to a unit closer to Kansas, and she wouldn’t be so selfish as to ask him to, though it would please her. She loved him now more than ever, and because she did, she would not ask him to choose. If she did, in the end he would resent her, just as she would had he decided to interfere in her work as a teacher.
Cara usually enjoyed the tradition of New Year’s Day, but Chase’s looming departure took some of the joy out of it this year. As always, all who were able came into town to visit with neighbors and to take advantage of the treats and drinks set out by the shopkeepers on Main Street. The residents also used this as a way to break up the cold and sometimes lonely winter.
Cara saw a few of her students, but only waved to them, and moved on. She didn’t want to make her day any sadder.
She and Chase stopped and had lunch in Sophie’s dining room, and Dulcie fed them until they couldn’t move. Cara had tears in her eyes as Chase said his goodbyes to Asa, Dulcie, and then Sophie. He’d be riding out at sunup and would not be seeing them again for a long time.
When they left Sophie’s and went back out into the gray January day, Chase turned to her and asked, “Do you mind if we go on home?”
She searched his face. “No, not at all.”
“You’ll have to apologize for me to the Three Spinsters for not stopping in to see them, but I want to get you home and spend every minute I have left holding you, looking at you, making love to you. Do you think they’ll understand?” he asked, sliding a gloved finger over her brown cheek.
She nodded yes.
Chase tenderly kissed his wife right there in the middle of town, then took her home.
Back at the house, Chase spent the balance of the afternoon doing just as he’d said: holding her, looking at her, making love to her. By evening he began gathering and packing his gear. Cara had vowed not to cry and so far had done a good job keeping her tears inside. However, seeing him pack the journal she’d given him for Christmas into his saddlebag was almost her undoing.
“I don’t want you to be sad, Cara Lee,” he said, looking at the tears standing like jewels in her eyes. “I’ll be back.”
“I know, Chase.”
They made love again that evening with a bittersweet tenderness. He took his time bringing her to the pinnacle of desire. She clung to him as they rode out passion’s storm, and, when he finally let her sleep, she did so soundly.
When she awakened alone, she was a bit disoriented. It took her a second to shake off the cobwebs. She was alone, she realized,
seeing the empty space beside her. Still hopeful, she sat up to listen for the echoes of Chase’s presence somewhere within the house, but heard only silence.
Chapter 13
In the days and weeks following Chase’s departure, Cara’s sadness turned into a kind of acceptance. She kept herself busy during the day by helping Asa repair the floor in the biggest bedroom, and at night by writing long letters to her husband in care of Fort Davis.
One afternoon in late February, Cara responded to the chime on the door pull to find Virginia Sutton standing on the porch. Cara toyed seriously with the idea of slamming the door right in the Black Widow’s face.
Virginia seemed to read Cara’s mind. “If you don’t want to invite me in, I’ll understand.”
Again, Cara’s instincts were to send her packing, but the reason for the unprecedented visit made her curious. Since no one, not even furdraped, mean-spirited Virginia Sutton, deserved to be left standing in the February snow, Cara stepped back to let her enter.
“Nice place,” Virginia remarked, taking off her expensive gloves and looking around.
Cara closed the door.
“Your husband provided well for you,” she added, tossing her big fur over the settee. “Paid me the asking price in gold. He tell you that?”
“Mrs. Sutton, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to talk about my husband’s method of payment, so get to the point.”
Virginia smiled. “No, I didn’t. I’m here to offer you your job back, and I hope you will accept.”
Cara was stunned, but eyed the woman suspiciously. “Why?”
“Why am I offering or why should you accept?”
“Both.”
“Well, I’m offering because I’ll need people like you if this town’s to have any chance at a solid future. And you should accept because I’m willing to pay you sixty dollars a month.”
Sixty dollars a month! Only men received salaries in that range. “Four months ago, I wasn’t decent enough to teach anyone. Why the sudden reversal? And if it’s because of your son, keep your pity. I don’t need it.”
“Only Miles can apologize for Miles. When he turned seven years of age, his father took over his raising. I’ve had no influence since.” With a compelling look Virginia continued, “Do you know how much I envy your college education, your intelligence, your independence? I disliked you from the moment we were introduced because you’re all the things I’ll never be.”
A dumbstruck Cara wondered if the woman before her could be an impostor. The Virginia Sutton she knew, or thought she knew, would never have said anything like this. In the past, the woman scarcely ever parted her lips, other than to make Cara’s life miserable.
“Surprised?” Virginia asked.
“Frankly, yes. How in the world can you envy me? You have everything: money, prestige, power. You own half the town, for heaven’s sake.”
“I can’t read.”
Cara’s shocked gasp sounded too loud in the silence of the room.
“Not a letter.”
Due to the restrictions of the prewar South, there were thousands of the race who by law were not allowed access to the printed word. Cara had never imagined Virginia was one of them. “How do you run your businesses?”
“All my businesses revolve around counting and sums. I have a gift for that. Mae handled all my correspondence until she went off to school this past summer. Miles helps out a bit also. When I first started out here, banking consisted of making loans and handling deposits. Now times are changing. Those fools in Washington City are issuing conflicting edicts every time I turn around, and if I can’t keep pace, I’ll be plowed under. Jim Crow may take everything I have in the end anyway, but I’ll be damned if I let them have it just because I can’t read. I want you to teach me.”
Cara stared. Virginia had never been anything but unpleasant in their dealings. She’d been uncooperative and opposed to every idea Cara had ever had, but Cara knew it must have taken a lot of courage for Virginia to come here today and confess what she had just now. “Why me? Why not the teacher over in Nicodemus, or the reverend?”
“Because even I know you’re the best the area has to offer. I’ll pay you, of course.”
Of course, Cara thought to herself.
“So? Will you accept?”
“On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“Build a new school. Do that and I’ll tutor you for free.”
Virginia looked mildly surprised. “Most people would want the money.”
“I’m not most people.”
Silence settled as the two women assessed each other.
“You have a deal,” Virginia conceded, “but I’ll only provide the building.”
“That’s fair.”
“Well, then, have Sophie’s man draw up some plans. We’ll start the construction in the spring, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Virginia doned her coat, then pulled on her gloves. “Oh, and I would prefer to keep this arrangement about my lessons just between us. If my competitors find out, I won’t last a week.”
Cara concurred. “When would you like to begin?”
“As soon as possible.”
After they agreed on times and days, Virginia started toward the door. “You’re a decent woman, Cara Jefferson. Thank you for hearing me out. And although I can’t speak on my son’s behalf, please know how sorry I was to learn about the babe. Miles is still recovering from the beating your husband gave him, which Miles deserved. Your husband loves you very much. I envy you that also.”
On a blast of February wind, she departed.
Cara came to learn a lot about Virginia during the mornings they spent together. Although Virginia had been born free, she’d been sold by her mother, Simone, a blue-eyed octoroon seamstress, to a man named Ezra Sutton, a former slave on a nearby Virginia plantation.
“Ezra was in love with my mother,” Virginia told Cara one March morning over coffee at the kitchen table. “Because of his status he could only see her once or twice a month, so he didn’t know he was just one of many men, black and white, who paid for Simone’s company. The Union Army was close, and the planters were deserting the plantations in droves. Ezra, being a head houseman and carriage driver, helped his master bury all the valuables to keep them from the Yankees.”
“Did many of the planters do that?”
“Quite a few,” Virginia replied. “They couldn’t carry gold plate or all their jewelry on the trains North, which is where most headed, for fear of being robbed or stopped at the rail stations patrolled by Union forces.”
“The planters expected these things to be there after the war?”
“Yes. They planned on coming back, digging up their plate and gold coins, and going on with their lives.”
Cara simply shook her head.
“Well, after Ezra helped bury the gold, he took the master and his family to the train station to go to relatives in New York. When he returned, he waited until dark, went out, and dug up the valuables. He brought the hoard to my mother and asked her to marry him.”
“What did she say?”
“She laughed in his face. Told him she didn’t care if he had rediscovered King Solomon’s mines. He was a dark-skinned slave and she would have nothing to do with him. She, too, was headed North, but with one of her gentlemen friends. He was also a blue-eyed octoroon, and they were going North to live out their lives as white.”
It was a common story. No one knew how many fair-skinned members of their race had “passed” before and after the war. It was a phenomenon very much prevalent even these days.
“My mother hated the restrictions that forced her to live in the small free-Black section outside Richmond, and she hated even more the drops of African blood in her veins that made the restrictions enforceable by law. However, there was one thing standing in her way—me, her fourteen-year-old daughter. Her lover didn’t consider me, with my brownish eyes, ‘bright’ enough to make the passing
ruse a success. He gave my mother an ultimatum. Either get rid of me in some way or stay in Richmond.”
Virginia’s voice lowered. “So she gave me to Ezra in her stead. I’ll never forget the humiliation of standing naked in her front parlor while she and Ezra haggled over the price. He bought me for four gold candlesticks, a diamond necklace with matching earbobs, and a brooch. My mother put on her finery, told me I belonged to Ezra, and showed us both the door.”
To punish Simone for her treachery, Ezra raped Virginia as soon as he got her back to the deserted plantation, Cara learned when Virginia picked up the narrative later that week. The abuse became a horror he repeated over and over again in the years that followed. Young and uneducated, Virginia stayed with him out of sheer fear at first, but eventually grew into a thick-skinned woman who took his nightly visitations and backhanded cuffs without a word. After Miles’s birth, she was determined to survive. And she had survived, long enough to see him into his grave.
“How did he die?” Cara asked.
Virginia chuckled for the first time. “Funniest thing. He’d been around animals all his life and got kicked in the head by a mule named Opal. Only creature on this earth meaner than he was. I didn’t mourn at all.”
Cara awakened and smiled. Virginia’s lessons had been rescheduled because she’d left town on business. So today, Cara’s time was her own.
Shivering from the early morning chill in the room, she pulled on a heavy robe over her nightgown and was thankful for the warmth of the red flannel ankle-length drawers beneath the gown. Donning a pair of woolen socks, she left her bedroom.
She was halfway down the hall when she stopped. She smelled coffee. Hoping she wasn’t being paid a visit by some drifter, she tiptoed back into the bedroom for the rifle.
From the top of the steps, Cara had a clear view to the floor below. A man dressed all in black sat at her kitchen table, drinking coffee. He had his back to her. Cara set the rifle against the wall.
“Chase!” she screamed with joy, running down the steps. She flew into his waiting arms, and he caught her up and swung her around to his kiss. They passionately greeted each other as if the months had been years. When they finally parted, he held her tight.
Night Song Page 22
