by Hebby Roman
Like you, they will travel from Charleston to Galveston via steamship. Then the good reverend intends to purchase a buckboard and a team of mules to transport his family and their belongings to Fort Davis.
They should be leaving within the week. The Reverend expects, if all goes well, to reach Fort Davis in six to eight weeks, sometime in August.
I pray, my good friend, we did what you would have wanted. I know you miss your son, and you’ve found a profession there, teaching school, so, I hope there will be no hardship. Please know we pray daily for Macon and the Reverend Whitehead family’s safe arrival. If we hadn’t taken action, I feel certain
Hiram would have taken the boy from us, and I know you wouldn’t want that.
Please reply as soon as you can to let us know you received this letter. My blessings.
Your Fellow Sister in Christ,
Nancy Arledge
Mallory folded the letter and tucked it into her apron pocket, too stunned to think straight. She pulled out Macon’s photograph and traced her fingers over his beloved face, noticing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled for perhaps the thousandth time.
Her son was on his way to her and for that blessing, she felt a glow inside, lighting her up. But at the same time, her chin trembled and her heart raced in her chest, knowing the dangers he and the Whitehead family would face, crossing this vast frontier.
Given the third letter’s postmark and how fast steamship travel was, her son was already here, somewhere in the wide expanse of Texas, riding a buckboard across the prairie.
She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and prayed. She prayed as hard as she knew how, with all her heart and soul, begging God to keep her son safe.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She muttered a hasty, “Amen,” and glanced up. Sally stood there with her eyebrows drawn together and her forehead creased.
“Are you all right?” Sally asked. “I hope it’s not bad news from home? But you said you don’t have any family left, except an aunt and cousins.”
Despite her neck feeling like a piece of wood, she nodded. At the same time, she wanted to scream, ‘but I have a son, who is traveling across the frontier in a buckboard!’ Instead, she bobbed her head like an idiot.
She tried to smile, failed, and turned her head away. She had to tell Will. She wanted to tell Sally, but she couldn’t blurt the news out to her now. It wouldn’t be right.
She dusted off her skirts and got to her feet. “I’m fine.”
“Who’s the little boy?” Sally asked.
In her distress, she’d forgotten to put away Macon’s photograph. She stuffed it, along with the other two letters, into her apron pocket.
“Uh, he’s the son of one of my many cousins. They sent me a photograph.”
Sally whistled under her breath. “They must have a lot of money to afford sending a photograph to a distant cousin.”
“Yes, they do.” She grimaced. “They’re show-offs like that.”
“Hmmm.” Sally put her arm through hers. “How was Mrs. Burnside?”
Her mind was still racing, wondering how far away her son might be, and if there was a way she could intercept him. It was hard to pay attention to what Sally was saying.
“Oh, uh, Mrs. Burnside was… not nice. Barely spoke.”
Sally nodded. “Do you and the colonel have an understanding? I could get the word out if you’d prefer…?”
She pulled loose from Sally’s grip, and she knew the look on her face was this side of stricken. “The commander has offered to… to… marry me, but…”
The thunder of a hundred horses’ hooves shook the ground, and the bright, brassy sound of fifty mounted soldiers’ harnesses jangled. She looked to the east and saw Will, riding at the head of his two companies of soldiers. Captain Myerson rode beside him.
Will and the captain drew abreast with them. Will smiled and touched one finger to the brim of his hat.
Now was the time to tell him.
She patted Sally’s shoulder. “I need to speak with the commander. Please, excuse me.” She hurried off in the wake of the dust cloud thrown up by the cavalry.
Sally called after her, “Will you be taking your mid-day meal with us?”
Turning, she said, “Probably not. Don’t make extra for me. Thank you for all your kindness.”
Ten minutes later, she was waiting in the headquarters’ office, biding her time until Will dismissed his troops and joined her. She’d asked Corporal Walsh to tell the commander she was there.
He opened the door and stood on the threshold, gazing at her. “I didn’t expect you to meet me in my office.” He stepped inside and shut the door. “I hope you didn’t worry. Nothing to worry about. The only thing Ben Murphy respects is a show of force.”
She wanted to ask him if he’d learned anything, how Ben had reacted, and why Corporal Walsh had called him away last night. But she didn’t dare. Then she’d never tell him.
He looked like he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, but something, perhaps the look on her face, stopped him. “I can see you have something important to tell me.” He waved his hand at the row of chairs in front of his desk. “Please, take a seat.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“All right.” He leaned against the front of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s so important—?”
“I have a son. His name is Macon. He’s six years old. He’s on his way to Fort Davis with the new reverend and his family.” She dug the letter out of her pocket and held it up. “I just found out. He should be here sometime next month.” She lowered her head. “If something doesn’t happen to him.”
“We’ll double the patrols on the San Antonio-El Paso Road,” he said and then he stared at her. “Did you say you have a son?”
“Yes.”
“Then you were married before. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was never married.” She lifted her head and looked him directly in the eye. “That’s the shame of it.”
“Oh.” He circled his desk and sat down. His face was a study of bewilderment and disappointment. “You weren’t married, but you have a son. Did E.P. know about your son? Why didn’t you bring the boy with you?”
“Shame. Fear.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I needed to start over. I thought in time, when E.P. knew me better, I would tell him and he’d accept my son. Then I would send for him.”
“You didn’t tell E.P. either?” His voice was a harsh rasp.
“No. I didn’t.”
“And now you say the boy is coming here. Is that why you told me?”
“No, no, Will.” She clasped her hands together and twisted them. “I would have told you before we married. Remember, last night, I tried to tell you—”
“But Corporal Walsh interrupted us.” He nodded. “I remember. Seems a second freight wagon came in last night with our long-awaited telegraph wire. That’s why the corporal needed me.”
“That’s a good thing, the wire coming.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “But Mallory, I gave you ample opportunity to tell me about yourself. You know I did, but I practically had to drag the details of your life from you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Were you afraid to tell me?”
“I don’t know.” She hesitated and looked at the floor. “Yes, I was afraid. That’s why I’ve put off accepting your proposal.”
“You were in town. How was it?”
“As you said, I’m a marked woman. Becky’s mother wouldn’t speak to me, and Mrs. Burnside was barely civil.”
He stroked his chin. “So, we have a situation on our hands.” He pointed his finger at her. “One of your making, Miss Reynolds. You should have told me from the first you had a son or, at least, had the decency to tell me when I proposed to you.”
“Yes, of course, you’re right.”
“Now, your son is coming to a place where his mo
ther cannot stay because she’s ruined herself again—”
“Will, it was your idea to slip off to see the waterfall last night. I’ve tried my hardest to observe all the proprieties, but…”
He nodded again. “You’re right. I let my emotions get the better of me. But it’s a dilemma for sure. You have to stay until your son arrives, but after that, you will need to turn around and go back—”
“I can’t go back. That’s why my friend sent my son. His father is searching for him. He’s an immoral and horrible man, but he’s also very wealthy and has all the right connections. If we return to Georgia, he will take my boy from me.”
He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “What you’re telling me, Miss Reynolds…” He hesitated and closed his eyes, as if he was praying. “Is that we must marry because you have nowhere else to go. Is that right?”
There was a knock on the door and Corporal Walsh stuck his head in. “Both Captains Rodgers and French need to see you, sir.”
He held up one hand. “Not now, corporal. Tell them to go about their duties. When I’m ready, I’ll send for them.”
“Yes, sir.” The corporal saluted and pulled the door closed.
She exhaled. She hadn’t known she’d been holding her breath. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and her empty stomach churned.
He gazed at her. The look in his blue-gray eyes was as sharp as a shard of flint. “Am I correct, Miss Reynolds?”
He’d stopped calling her Mallory. He hated her. Despised her for what she’d done or hadn’t done.
She approached him. “I thought you cared for me, Will. I thought you wanted to marry and not just for convenience’s sake, either.”
“You’re right, I did want to marry you. Very much. I’ve admired you since the first day.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But now… now… when your son arrives, what do I tell Peggy?”
“You could tell her I was widowed—”
“You want us to live a lie?”
She twisted her hands until her knuckles popped. “We could be a family, you and I, and my son and your daughter. I would be a good wife to you, Will.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know… now.”
“Guilty until proven innocent?” She couldn’t help the note of sarcasm in her voice. “Isn’t that the way all women are judged if they have a child out of wedlock? It’s because I’m a fallen woman.”
“No, it’s because you didn’t tell me until you had to. Because I won’t know if I can trust you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Somehow, she’d thought Will would be different. Stupid of her; she should have known better. She sighed and felt as if her heart had shriveled in her chest, turning into stone.
“I expected the truth from you, Will. Not an excuse about you not being able to trust me.”
He frowned and started to speak.
She held up her hand, wanting to stop him. “No, no more excuses. You don’t have to say anything. I can see your feelings on your face. You despise me because I bore a child out of wedlock.”
Chapter Nine
Will stared at the beautiful woman standing before him. Even in a plain calico dress, with her hair pulled into a tight bun, and her eyes red and swollen from too much crying or not enough sleep or both, she was still a beautiful woman. Desirable, too, with or without a corset. Intelligent and charming and…
He had fallen in love with her.
And he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her until they both couldn’t see straight. He searched his heart. Had he expected a fresh, young virgin for his bride, and she’d disappointed him by bearing a child out of wedlock?
He hoped that wasn’t why he was disappointed and distraught. If so, he wasn’t much of a Christian. Jesus had told the woman at the well to go and sin no more, forgiving her.
He could forgive Mallory for her fall from grace; few people were perfect. But she had kept her secret from him until the last possible moment. Perhaps she would have told him the truth last night, before she knew her son was coming. Perhaps not.
He’d never know for certain.
What he was having trouble finding was the ability to forgive her for lying. Or if not lying outright, she’d misled both E.P. and himself. She shouldn’t have come west under false pretenses, expecting to start a new life and then sending for her son.
It wasn’t right—and he didn’t know if he could trust her. He’d told her the truth of it. But that didn’t make him stop wanting her.
“I haven’t told anyone but my father, my aunt, and my friend, Nancy, the story of what happened.” She broke into his thoughts. “How I bore a child out of wedlock. Would it help if I told you what happened?”
He didn’t like seeing her like this, almost begging. Surely, if they didn’t marry, he could find another place for her when her son arrived. But for now, he knew she wanted to tell him what had happened, to absolve herself. He understood why she wanted him to hear her story. What he didn’t know was if it would change his feelings.
He nodded.
“I told you most of it before. About the finishing school and my debut.” She took a deep breath and sank into one of the chairs. “It was at one of the debutante balls that I met Hiram Calhoun. He—”
“His last name is Calhoun?” He whistled under his breath. “As in John C. Calhoun, the former Vice President?”
“Yes, Hiram is a distant cousin. He’s also a distant cousin of my uncle’s family, the Claiborne’s.”
“I see.”
But he really didn’t. He was a simple farmer from Ohio, and he’d lived his adult life, serving his country. He wouldn’t have known what a debutante ball looked like if he’d fallen face-forward into one.
She twisted her hands again. “There’s a standing joke in the South.”
“Yes.”
“All the original planters are cousins, one way or another.”
“Sounds like it could be true.”
“Yes, most of the planter families intermarried over the years.” She paused, as if considering, and shook her head. “Hiram was appealing, especially to an eighteen-year-old girl with no dowry and fewer prospects.”
“But wasn’t Hiram cash-strapped, like your father, if he was a planter?”
“No, his family had some plantations, but most of his money came from shipping. Remember, I told you about my aunt’s husband who was in shipping?”
He nodded.
“My uncle had the largest fleet of ships in the South when the war started.”
“And you said your uncle’s firm was successful at running the blockade.”
“Yes, they were. The blockade cut down on the number of ships getting through, but the few who did, made profits a hundred times over. The entire South depended upon those few ships.”
He lowered his head and steepled his fingers. “Quite a lucrative but dangerous undertaking. That was your uncle’s business. What did it have to do with Mr. Calhoun?”
“Hiram owned a part of my uncle’s shipping firm, and he was the most successful blockade runner. He became fabulously wealthy from the war.”
“I see. Quite a catch.” He ran his finger along the collar of his shirt. “I’m sure he was easy on the eyes, too.”
“Oh, Will, don’t, please.”
“You said it yourself, Miss Reynolds, you were an impressionable eighteen-year-old. Used to wealth and privilege, brought down to living on your aunt’s charity. He must have been irresistible.”
She stared at the toes of her shoes. “I’m not proud of it, but I did believe I loved him. And he told me he loved me, too.”
He snorted. And then he felt small.
She raised her head. “He offered to marry me, but he said his family was against our wedding. They wanted him to marry Sybil Rutledge, to tie their fortunes with the Rutledge family. They own the only functioning iron works in the Sout
h.”
“Sounds like a marriage made in heaven.” He heard the note of sarcasm in his voice, and his neck heated with embarrassment.
“Yes, on the face of it, but Hiram said he didn’t love Sybil. He claimed to love me.”
“What happened?”
“Hiram said we should elope. Once we were married, his family couldn’t pressure him to marry Sybil. He asked if I was willing to slip away from my aunt’s home and meet him at his lodgings at midnight. He said he’d obtained a special license and that he’d have a reverend there, waiting to marry us. I agreed.”
He sucked in his breath and shook his head. It was difficult, hearing how naïve she’d been.
“I know I was stupid, Will, but I believed him. He was a hero, a southern war hero. I thought a man like that couldn’t be dishonorable.”
“He was clever—having you leave your aunt’s home at midnight to meet him. That fact alone, compromised you.”
“Yes, I realize that.” She gazed directly into his eyes. “There was no reverend at his lodgings. He said the reverend was late. He offered me champagne, but I panicked and tried to leave. I wanted to return to my aunt’s home before I was discovered.”
She licked her lips. “He wouldn’t let me go. Said he knew I desired him, or I wouldn’t have come. It wasn’t true. I thought we were getting married. I knew nothing of desire until…”
She looked down again. “He took me by force, Will. I struggled and tried to cry out, but he was prepared. He overpowered me and stuffed a rag in my mouth and…”
She turned away, but not before he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. She sobbed and gulped. “Now you know everything. I won’t bother you any longer.”
Hearing what had happened, his heart wrenched, and his eyes burned. If ever there was a woman who didn’t deserve such a terrible fate, it was Mallory. Now, he understood why she’d pulled away when he first touched her. Thinking about it, his gut clenched, and he’d like nothing better than to break Mr. Calhoun in two.
