AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)

by Carmella Jones

  Victoria stared ahead in silence as she let this information sink in. She ran her hands over her round belly and tried to erase the images that flooded her imagination.

  “The night James died...Victoria, are you sure you want to know this?”

  Victoria could not look at Thomas, but she nodded as tears streamed down her face.

  “That night, James was supposed to rendezvous with me. We were counting on the fact that we do not resemble each other in the slightest, so we planned on meeting at a local tavern. We were able to get seated at a corner table, and James told me what he knew about Samira and my girls. They were being held in the prison in Louisville, awaiting a convoy that would return Samira to her previous owner in Georgia. He told me the date and time, but he told me he had sent an order that he forged to delay the transfer. That transfer is supposed to take place in a week, which is why we are going to Louisville.”

  Thomas took a deep breath, and Victoria glanced at him through her tears, realizing he too was crying. “Thank God, I was able to get all the details before the soldiers crashed into the tavern. I was bound along with James. They were beating him and yelling at him, calling him a traitor and a deserter. In all the commotion, I was able to undo my bindings, and when they got us outside, I broke free. I had no weapons on me, so I fought a few of them, but then a shot rang out. Two of the soldiers took off and left just me and the one who fired the shot still standing. The soldier stared at the man he had shot, and I realized it was James. I jumped at the man, wrestled his gun away from him, and knocked him out. As soon as I leaned over James, I realized it was over. The soldier had shot James in the back of the head. I wanted to take him with me, but the shot had caused more people to come out, and I heard the shouts of the soldiers returning, so I had to run...”

  Thomas bowed his head for a moment and then with the back of one hand, he wiped his eyes. He turned his intense blue eyes and met Victoria’s, which were wide in shock and dismay.

  “I am so sorry, Victoria. James died because of me.”

  Victoria felt her grief wash over her all over again. Unable to keep eye contact with Thomas, she instead forced herself to look to the side as they traveled a dark road in the middle of the night. The fact that her husband had died trying to help Thomas and Samira made her proud. However, that he died so brutally and unjustly made her angry. While she knew she was a widow to a man she would consider a hero, he would forever be a traitor, and that was the actual truth from the perspective of the Southern mind. With that realization, Victoria knew as well that she would never return to Charleston. She could never call the place that took an honorable man's life “home.” She started to sob as the gravity of the situation truly hit her.

  Thomas let Victoria work through her emotions and her thoughts. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, but he knew it was not the time. He was riddled with guilt. He should not have met James in such a public place. He should not have let James get involved in the first place. He never should have told James about Samira and the girls. Thomas knew in his gut, James’ death lay squarely at his feet. He doubted he would ever be able to forgive himself, but he hoped and prayed that in time, Victoria would.

  ***

  Three days later, Simon stopped the wagon on a low rise and pointed to the town spread out before them.

  “Louisville,” he announced.

  Victoria, who had been resting in the wagon, peered up over the shoulders of the men, and took in the view.

  “How on Earth...” she started, but Thomas gave her a sideways glance, and she stopped. Thomas had let on that he did not completely trust young Simon, so the boy still thought Thomas and Victoria were just passing through.

  Simon signaled the horses to continue onward, and soon the three found themselves in the center of Louisville. After a while, Simon pulled the wagon to a halt in front of a hotel, and he hopped down. He grabbed his two bags from the back of the wagon. After hugging Victoria and shaking hands with Thomas, who paid him well for his help on the journey, Simon turned away and disappeared on the crowded street.

  Thomas took Victoria’s bag from the wagon as well as one of his own and asked a porter from the hotel to take the wagon to the livery for the horses to be checked out and the wagon to be run over for a trip west. He then led Victoria into the hotel and reserved a room for them both. Victoria grew uneasy when he listed them as Mr. and Mrs. Bramwell, afraid someone might be looking for them there, but if Thomas was concerned, he did not show it. The clerk gave Thomas a key and directed them to a staircase.

  Once in the room, Victoria realized there was only one bed and a hardback chair next to a curtained tub. She went to the washbasin, where hot water had just been poured, and after removing her bonnet, she dabbed at her face and neck with one of the washcloths. Thomas had said nothing after depositing their bags in a corner. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window that overlooked the busy street.

  Thomas stood up and looked out the window. “I need to make some inquiries. I need to find out where the prison is, and then I might need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “It might be possible to buy some slaves. If the offer is good enough, slaves are often sold here rather than returned to their owners down South. Unless the owner comes up in person to retrieve their slaves, there is not much they can do about it. So it happens here all the time. If that is the case with Samira and my girls, then you would be the one to go make the offer.”

  Victoria sat hard on the chair, trepidation filling her gut. “I don’t know, Thomas. I...I just don’t think I am ready to get involved in something like this.”

  Thomas looked down at the street and watched the people walking by, then he turned to Victoria. He went to her and knelt down, taking her hands in his. "Victoria, Samira is my wife. My girls are my whole world. I cannot go to get them; it has to be you. Please say you will help me.”

  Kneeling as he was, he was still able to look Victoria in the eye evenly. Victoria tried to turn away, but the look in Thomas’ eyes drew her in. She felt a stirring and the trepidation disappeared. Afraid speaking out loud would betray what she was really feeling, she nodded. Thomas grinned, and Victoria felt like her world was crumbling all over again, and when he leaned forward and embraced her in a hug so tight she could barely breathe, she felt her heart break again. In that moment, she realized in shock and anger at herself, she had somehow fallen in love with Thomas. Suddenly disgusted with herself, Victoria stood up and went to her bag.

  “Well, you better get going to get all the information,” she said to him with her back turned. “Stay gone for a while, I want to take a bath and wash off all this dust and grime.”

  She did not turn, so she did not see the confusion on Thomas’ face at her sudden change in mood. She did not turn until she heard the heavy footfall as he walked to the door, opened it, and then gently shut behind him.

  She turned to face the door and then threw herself on the bed, allowing her confusing emotions to run their course. She berated herself. How could she allow this to happen? Thomas was married. And on the run. And was involved in dangerous activities. And... He was just wonderful. Victoria sat up and dried her eyes. Thomas was wonderful, she thought, and that was why she needed to help him reunite with Samira and his daughters. Helping him was the best way to show him that she forgave him for his part in James’ death, even though she did not truly feel he was to blame at all.

  With sudden determination, Victoria stood up and decided to really take that bath. Twenty minutes later, she was relaxing in the deep tub and thinking about what she would do once Thomas and Samira were back together. Keep going west, she thought to herself. Go west, and start over. That was the plan.

  ***

  Two days later, Victoria, dressed in a fine gown, fancy shoes, and kid gloves, with an outrageous hat adorning her head, walked up the steps of the prison where Samira was supposedly being held for transfer. Thomas was not able to confirm Samira and his daughter were act
ually there, but he had it on good authority that all slaves waiting for transfers back to the south were housed within that prison’s tall walls. He and Victoria planned out every detail. He sold the horses, wagon, and all the supplies in order to have a tidy sum to offer for the three runaways. Meanwhile, Victoria found a dress shop where she purchased the attire she felt she needed to look the part of a well-to-do woman meeting her husband out West.

  As she stepped inside the prison a slew of scents assaulted her, causing her to be nauseated. She placed a hand on her belly and took a deep breath to still her nerves. She saw two guards behind a desk staring at her in wonder, so she smiled brightly and approached them.

  “Good afternoon!”

  The men merely nodded at her.

  “I wonder if you might be able to assist me?”

  One of the men cleared his throat. "In what way, madam?”

  Victoria placed her purse on the counter, letting the coins hit the counter hard enough to jingle a little. “I am in need of some servants to assist me as I travel west. I am not from here, you see, but a man at the hotel told me sometimes unclaimed slaves could be bought here?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that is correct. However, that is typically only done on auction days.”

  “I see. Well, when is the next auction?”

  The man glanced at a paper calendar. “Not until next month, ma’am.”

  Victoria stared at the man for a moment, "Well, that just won’t do. I leave in a few days, you see. I was really hoping I could find some decent help today.”

  The men leaned toward each other and whispered a few moments before the first one looked back at Victoria. “I could show you the ones we have, ma’am. If you see one or two you fancy, then I am sure we can come to an arrangement.”

  Victoria beamed at the man. “Oh! That would be splendid!”

  The man stood up and, grabbing a ring of keys from the wall, asked Victoria to follow him. The guard led Victoria to a large room where women and children were chained to poles in the center of the room. Appalled at the conditions these women and children were in, Victoria bit back her disgust and scanned the room.

  “Might I get closer? Maybe talk to them a little to learn what their skills are?”

  The guard nodded and retreated back into the hallway.

  Victoria glanced at the women, who all kept their heads bowed. Only one met her gaze, so Victoria approached her.

  She leaned close so the guard wouldn't overhear her. "Hello.”

  The woman did not reply.

  “I am looking for Samira. Is she in this room?”

  The woman looked around the room and pointed at a woman in the corner, huddled under a mass of blankets.

  Victoria approached the huddled woman and quickly realized she could not be Thomas’ wife, for she was far too old. Still, she bent down and gently touched the old woman on her shoulder.

  “Excuse me, please. Do you know if Samira is here?”

  The old woman met Victoria’s gaze.

  “Why do you want to know?” she asked in a raspy voice.

  Victoria leaned closer. "I have come to help get her and her girls back to her husband. Thomas is my cousin and has asked me to help.”

  The old woman coughed and a tear escaped her heavy lidded eyes. “Yer too late, child.”

  “They already sent her back to Georgia?”

  The old woman shook her head no and started coughing heavily. “No. Samira and her girls is dead. They had to burn most the bodies when half of us got the sickness. Samira and her girls were the first to go...”

  Victoria felt the floor drop from under her. "NO! Are you certain?”

  “Yes, child. Samira was my niece. T’was providence that brought us together here; least I was able to make ‘em comfortable before they passed...”

  Victoria stood up, suddenly sick. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her. As she leaned on the brick wall for a moment, the guard came up behind her.

  “Ma’am, are you okay? Did you find one you like?”

  Victoria glanced at the guard, and smiled her brightest. She stood up straight. "Yes. Yes. I am fine. Pregnancy, you know, can be so taxing.”

  The guard nodded sympathetically, but he gestured to the women all around the room. “Should I prepare one of these women for you?”

  Victoria shook her head. "No. Was there sickness among these women recently?”

  The guard nodded. "But we have been assured that these women are all healthy.”

  Victoria made a show of thinking about it, then shook her head from side to side. "No, I better not. If they were still sick, and could not finish the trip with me, I would be pretty hard off then, wouldn’t I?”

  The guard agreed. Victoria took one last glance around the room and then headed to the door. Part of her wanted to take at least one, just to save a life, to get them out of the horrendous conditions, but the practical side of her refused to give in to the urge.

  A few minutes later, Victoria was taking a deep gulp of fresh air in the bright sunlight in front of the prison. She hailed a buggy and had it return her to the hotel. When she walked into the room she shared with Thomas, she found him asleep on the bedroll he had made that first night, so she could sleep on the bed. She stood over him for a few moments, watching him sleep in peace, not sure how she was supposed to break the news to him. His wife. His children. It was the most horrible thing she could do, and she was suddenly afraid. What would he do when he found out? What would he say?

  As she stood there, Thomas slowly opened his eyes and saw her. He smiled and sat up, running his hand over his face. “You are back! How did it go? Did you get to see my girls? When do you go back for them?”

  Victoria found herself at a loss. Thomas stood up and looked at Victoria more closely. He realized she was pale. He took her hand and led her to the chair, then he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “You must be exhausted. I am sorry, I didn’t think...”

  Victoria raised her hand to stop Thomas, and barely above a whisper, she said, "They are dead.”

  Thomas sat perfectly still for several minutes as he watched silent tears run down Victoria’s face. He moved to the floor in front of her.

  “Repeat that...”

  Victoria whispered, "They are dead, Thomas.” She looked into his eyes. “They were among the first to die when some sort of illness ran through the prison. Their bodies have been burned...”

  Thomas shook his head from side to side, saying "No. No. No no no...That cannot be. They knew I was going to come for them. They can’t be...” Thomas, overcome by grief, laid his head in Victoria’s lap and sobbed. Also crying, Victoria smoothed his hair and prayed silently that the Lord would please heal their hearts.

  ***

  The following morning, both completely shaken, Thomas recommended they sit down and figure out what to do from that point. He informed Victoria that he still had messages and deliveries to make to a few towns further west, and he still had every intention of helping get Victoria west and settled safely if she still wanted to do that.

  Victoria could not bear the thought of being separated from Thomas, so she told him that she still wanted to head west too, if she was not too much of a burden for him. Thomas assured her that she was no burden, so with their plans decided, the pair packed up their belongings.

  Two hours later, they sat side by side on a new wagon outfitted for the long trek west. The pair traveled in silence most of the day, too wrapped up in their own thoughts and grief. Even setting up camp, the two worked in silence, until it came to placing the bedrolls. When Simon had been with them, they slept side by side in the wagon, while Simon had a bedroll on the ground or in a small tent. Now that Simon was not with them, it made sense for Thomas to sleep on the ground. And yet, as the two were grabbing the bedrolls, Thomas hesitated.

  At the back of the wagon, while Victoria was crouched inside the wagon, Thomas played with the ties of his bedroll. Part of him irrationally hoped that Victoria
would stop him and say it was okay for him to share the wagon with her, while part of him knew there was absolutely no good reason to play the part with no one around. All the while, accusations—conflicting with longing—tickled the edges of his mind.

  While Thomas struggled, Victoria was oblivious. Her fears and doubts about the future suddenly seemed very small in light of Thomas’ unexpected loss. She fiddled with her bedroll, completely unaware that Thomas was still waiting at the end of the wagon. She did not see Thomas cast her a wistful glance as he finally decided it was only proper for him to let Victoria have the wagon.

  Silent through their evening meal, the only words they uttered to each other were a simple “good night” as Thomas helped Victoria into the wagon and they prepared to rest. Then when Thomas lay down as well, he was forced to be alone with his memories of Samira and his daughters. He thought of the terror they must have endured when they were captured, and wondered at the hardship of living in a prison. He hoped they had not suffered before they died. Then he wondered, now that the Army had nothing to hold over him, would they forget about him? What should he do now?