Belle

by Beverly Jenkins

  “Well, the dress you made was beautiful. Mama looked grand.”

  “Thank you, Daniel, and yes, she did.”

  “And you promised me a shirt, remember?”

  “I know, I haven’t forgotten.”

  Daniel sensed he was with the shy, unsure Belle this evening, although he knew the sassy-talking, checker-playing parts of her weren’t far away. He enjoyed both versions of her, however. “I’d ask if you’d like to play checkers, but you’ll only trounce me again, so no sense in that.”

  Belle lowered her head to hide her smile. “It would be fun, though.”

  “Trouncing me?” he asked with an amazed look on his handsome face.

  “Yes.”

  “No.” He laughed. “Think of something else.”

  “We could cut the cake,” Belle offered in conspiratorial tones.

  Daniel smiled again. “A woman after my own heart.”

  Those words made their eyes meet and hold. As if governed by a mind of its own, Daniel’s hand reached out and the fingers slowly traced Belle’s smooth, dark cheek. Belle, trembling like a leaf in the wind, closed her eyes as he leaned over and touched his lips to hers, first once and then twice, the second time deeper, softer. It was her very first kiss and it was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be.

  Her eyes were still closed when he slowly eased away. Shimmering like sunlight on newly fallen snow, Belle rode the wave of the new and wonderful sensations, then slowly opened her eyes.

  Daniel didn’t know whether to apologize or kiss her again. Honor won out. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t’ve done that.”

  Belle met his gaze hesitantly. “No apology needed. It was rather nice.”

  He smiled. “You think so?”

  “I’ve nothing to compare it with, but yes.”

  For some reason Daniel was glad to know she’d never been kissed before. “Guess this sort of complicates that friendship we talked of having.”

  “It complicates many things,” she replied quietly. Belle wanted to be his sweetheart and his friend, but one of those roles was already held by Francine. Belle came to a very painful decision. “I can’t let you kiss me again, Daniel. I know there are girls who wouldn’t mind you having an intended, but I’m not one.”

  Daniel’s lips thinned. “I know, Belle, and I understand.” Daniel really did; he also understood that he had some thinking and deciding to do, but Lord, he wanted to hold her and kiss her until the cows came home. “Maybe we should see about that cake.”

  “Good idea.”

  They went into the kitchen, both as aware of each other as of their own heartbeats. Belle took down the bowls and he went to the back porch for the churn. Belle took a moment to call Jojo. When Belle returned to the kitchen, Daniel was just bringing in the churn, and once again, Belle thought him the finest young man the good Lord ever made. The kiss he’d given her continued to echo, making her want just one more.

  Daniel could see the interest in her eyes and it resparked his own. “Stop looking at me that way, Belle.”

  She asked innocently, “What way?”

  “Like you want to be kissed again.”

  “That wasn’t what I was thinking, Mr. Swelled Head.”

  “Stop lying,” he teased back, and bent to take the top off the ice cream. “I could see it in your eyes.”

  Jojo came in on the heels of that remark, asking, “You could see what in her eyes?”

  Her brother cracked, “That you are a pest, pest.”

  Jojo stuck out her tongue.

  They took their desserts into the parlor and sat at the dining table. Belle was positioned directly across from Daniel. Every time she looked up, his eyes were there, watching, studying, flirting.

  She wanted to tell him to stop it, but didn’t want Jo to know what was going on; things were complicated enough.

  Jojo ate a bite of the cake and hummed with pleasure. “I love burnt-sugar icing. I’m glad you made this, Belle.”

  “Me, too,” Daniel echoed.

  Belle looked at him from beneath her lashes. “You’re welcome.”

  Later, as Belle undressed for bed in the silence of her room, she let her mind replay Daniel’s kiss. The bright, sparkling feelings returned, bringing with them the happiness she’d felt, and the wish that it might happen again. She set the wish aside though; his kisses were reserved for Francine; she was the one he planned to marry.

  At that moment, Belle envied Francine more than anything. To be able to spend the rest of her life at Daniel’s side would be a dream come true, but it would remain that, just a dream. No man in his right mind would toss Francine over for an illiterate runaway whose only talent was sewing, and Belle had more respect for herself than to enter into a relationship that led nowhere. No, she had the memories of their kiss, and she’d have to be content with that, because in reality, there couldn’t be more.

  Down the hall, Daniel lay in bed looking up at his ceiling. His room was as dark as the rest of the house, but he couldn’t sleep. He had no idea what to do. Now that he’d kissed Belle, he wanted to be able to pursue her, court her, but Francine was in the way. Thinking of Francine as an impediment wasn’t something he’d admitted to himself before. When had he changed? He knew the answer: the moment he met Belle. He remembered mistaking her for a boy at first, only to find out she was a whole lot more girl than he’d first believed possible. She’d really enjoyed the rally in Detroit, something Francine had never done when she’d gone with him. With Francine, it was always too many people, or the weather wasn’t perfect, or she had nothing to wear. But Belle had gotten into the spirit of the event; she’d enjoyed the speakers, asked questions about some of the people on the dais and heartily applauded when he finished his speech. Belle was the kind of woman a man would be proud to court and make his wife. In many ways, she reminded him of his mother. When Belle married, he knew instinctively that she would be a helpmate, a supporter of her husband’s life, not spend time trying to drag him to dinner parties, or fussing because he preferred working for the Cause to shopping in Windsor.

  Daniel ran his hands over his eyes. This was a mess; a full-blown, hog-wild mess. And he hadn’t a clue as to what to do.

  In response to a note delivered by Bea a few days later from Mrs. Morgan, the entire Best clan, Belle included, drove to Ann Arbor to meet the train that would be bringing Adam and Jeremiah Morgan home. Mrs. Morgan, a woman who bore a strong resemblance to her two curly-haired sons, was already at trackside. Upon seeing the Bests, she gave Cecilia and William grateful hugs of thanks, saying to Mr. Best, “William, if you and the committee hadn’t contacted Mr. Still and his friends in Philadelphia so swiftly, I might have lost my boys forever. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he returned emotionally.

  Mrs. Morgan greeted Daniel and Jojo, too, then Daniel introduced her to Belle.

  Mrs. Morgan smiled. “Belle, it’s nice to meet you. My sons were right; you are very belle.”

  Embarrassment burned Belle’s cheeks. She didn’t consider herself beautiful at all, and wondered why the Morgans kept saying that.

  But everything was set aside as the train pulled into the station in a hail of noise, cinder and soot. Everyone jumped back to avoid the ash and embers pouring from the stack, but also kept an eye peeled for Jeremiah and Adam.

  Jojo shouted, “There they are!”

  Sure enough, they were the next passengers down the plank, and Mrs. Morgan took off at a run. She gathered them up in a tearful embrace that they met in kind. The Bests stood off to the side for a few moments, letting the family have their time, then when Mrs. Morgan beckoned, they approached with smiles. Daniel gave his friends strong hugs, and he, too had tears in his eyes. Both young men greeted Mr. and Mrs. Best with gratitude and love, then Jojo received a big hug, too. Belle stood there waiting, and when they saw her, Adam stepped to her, threw an arm around her waist and kissed her full on the mouth. When he turned her loose, she was so surprised and overwhelmed s
he could hardly think. She was rattled further when Jeremiah did the same thing! Both Mrs. Best and Mrs. Morgan were staring at the two as if they’d lost their minds. Belle certainly had trouble finding hers.

  Mrs. Morgan snapped at her sons, “What is the matter with you two?!”

  Only then did Belle see the change in them. The dancing light had gone out of their eyes. They were thin and tired-looking, and the borrowed clothes fit badly. The kidnapping and its terrible aftermath had done something to them.

  Adam apologized. “Beg pardon, Belle. We promised ourselves we’d do that as soon as we got back. It’s what kept us going.”

  Belle didn’t know what to say to such a declaration. It was quite apparent they’d not had a good time of it. “No apologies needed. We’re all just glad you’re here and safe.”

  Mr. Best cleared his throat and said, “I know you two have been through an ordeal, but if you ever treat Belle like that again, you’ll be visiting my woodshed.”

  Mrs. Morgan added, “And I’ll be providing the wood.”

  Both Morgan brothers nodded their understanding, but their smiles were thin, not the full, careless grins they wore before Watson altered their lives.

  Daniel asked, “How about a welcome-home party? Are you two up to one?”

  Jeremiah replied, “Sure, why not? Might be fun, but make it next week. Give us time to get our sea legs back.”

  “And the smell of the pens out of our skin,” Adam cracked bitterly.

  Belle knew all about slave pens. They were stocked with slaves destined for the public auction block, but mostly held the old, the dying and the desperate. They were filthy, miserable places. Her mother had languished in one for two months before a buyer could be found.

  As everyone prepared to leave, good-byes and hugs were exchanged. It was a bittersweet reunion, and when it was over they all went home.

  Later that evening, up in Belle’s room, Jojo was slowly leafing through the dress plates featured in the latest edition of the Godey’s Lady’s Book. “You know, Belle, if two men ever kissed me the way those woodenheads kissed you, I’d’ve probably swooned right under the train.”

  “It was rather overpowering,” Belle admitted. For someone who’d never been kissed before last week, Belle had them coming at her in droves it seemed.

  Jojo asked then, “Who was the best kisser, Adam or Jeremiah?”

  Belle was flabbergasted by the question. “Jo?!”

  “What? It was just a question.”

  “Pretty personal, don’t you think?”

  “We’re girlfriends, Belle. We’re supposed to tell each other everything.”

  Belle chuckled. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes,” Jojo replied insistently.

  “I have to admit, we are girlfriends, but—”

  “But what?”

  “I still can’t answer your question because I don’t know which one kissed the best.”

  “Why not?”

  Belle shrugged and confessed. “I don’t have a lot to compare them with, I guess.”

  Jojo admitted, “Me either.”

  Jojo leaned back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and asked, “Belle, what kind of man do you want to marry?”

  Belle leaned back and looked up, too. She thought for a bit, then said, “Someone who’s nice and loves me.” Belle turned her head and eyed Jojo. “What about you?”

  “I want him to be handsome, strong and kind. Sort of like Papa.”

  Belle smiled. Mr. Best would be an ideal model.

  Jojo added, “Even though he and Mama disagree sometimes, they always kiss and make up. I like that.”

  Belle did, too.

  Jojo said, “I think Dani would be much happier if he was going to marry you, Belle.”

  Belle sat up, but she didn’t say anything.

  Jojo asked, “You are sweet on him, aren’t you—and lightning will strike you if you lie, Belle.”

  Belle grinned. “Your brother’s right. You are a pest.”

  Jojo rolled over and propped herself up on an elbow. “Never mind that, just answer the question.”

  “The answer is yes, and if you tell him I said that, I’ll sew all your curling irons to your hair while you’re sleeping.”

  “He likes you, too.”

  “As a friend.”

  “As more than a friend. I may be only twelve, but I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way he’s been watching you lately.”

  “But he’s going to marry Francine, remember?”

  Jojo shrugged. “There is that, but then maybe a miracle will happen. They happen all the time in those books Mama reads. The heroine faces all kinds of trials and tribulations, but always winds up with the right gentleman in the end.”

  “I don’t think real life is that tidy, Jo.”

  “Well, not for women like us, but it doesn’t mean it can’t happen, does it?”

  “No, Jo. It doesn’t.”

  “Then I say, Francine the Queen will be swept off to Kingdom Come in a giant snowstorm, and you and Dani will get married.”

  Belle looked at Jojo and just shook her head. “You are something, Miss Josephine Best.”

  “I know, and soon, you’re going to be my sister-in-law.”

  Belle couldn’t do anything but laugh.

  fourteen

  The homecoming party for Adam and Jeremiah turned out to be an outdoor affair and was held at the Best home during the third weekend of June. Daniel and Mr. Best set up trestle tables, while Belle and Mrs. Best took shifts seeing to the food. Bea Meldrum contributed a bunch of chickens she’d received in payment for some healing she’d done, and once the birds were readied and seasoned, the pieces were set atop the grill manned by Mr. Best and Daniel. It seemed the whole community stopped by, bringing food, neighborly news and well wishes to Mrs. Morgan and her sons. There were sack races, horseshoe tossing and card games. Old men slapped dominoes, and young men eyed the well-dressed young ladies.

  Francine and her entourage arrived late that afternoon. Belle didn’t pay them much attention because she and Mrs. Best were too busy attending to the needs of the guests. Belle did garner a particularly haughty stare from the Queen though, but ignored it.

  Belle was in the kitchen taking some of her famous biscuits out of the oven when Jojo and her friend, Trudy Carr, came in.

  Jojo announced sarcastically, “The Queen’s here.”

  Belle set the hot pan on the counter. “I know, she sneered at me when I walked by.”

  Trudy added, “Mr. Hood just arrived, too.”

  Belle began buttering the hot pieces of bread. There was so much to do, she didn’t have time to be a part of the gossip. “Jo, will you take these out and set them on the table? Trudy, grab that pot of jam.”

  “Sure, Belle.”

  Belle turned to hand Jo the tray, but paused upon seeing Francine and a few of her friends coming in the kitchen’s back door.

  Francine, dressed all in green today, trilled, “Belle, be a dear and find me some thread. I snagged my hem.”

  Belle gave Jo the tray. “Thanks, Jo. Thanks, Trudy.”

  The girls exited.

  Belle then turned to Francine. “I don’t have time, Francine. I’ve a hundred things that need doing.”

  “This is important.”

  “So are these strawberries.”

  The church’s reverend had brought over a basket full of the plump red berries. They needed washing and hulling before they could be enjoyed by the guests. Belle grabbed up the basket and headed to the door to take them to the pump, only to have Francine grab her by the arm.

  “Did you hear me?” Francine asked, as if she were mistress and Belle her slave.

  Belle slowly looked down at the hand on her arm, and then up into Francine’s eyes. “Remove your hand.”

  “You will get me some thread.”

  Belle snatched free. “You will get out of my way.”

  “Who do you think you are?”

  “I cou
ld ask you the same thing.”

  “Well, I’m your better, you ignorant little runaway. I’ll bet you can’t even read the word ‘strawberry’!”

  That hurt. “You’d be right, Francine. Now move before I show you just how ignorant I am.”

  Belle could see Jojo standing on the porch. Belle was sure she’d heard every word.

  Francine had a nasty little smile on her face as she told her friends, “She actually thinks Dani likes her, as if he’d prefer an illiterate slave girl to me.”

  Belle forced her way past Francine and out the door.

  Jojo stepped forward, but Belle, her eyes thick with furious, unshed tears, didn’t slow. “Excuse me, Jo. I have to wash these berries.”

  The laughter of Francine and her girlfriends burned her back as she fled.

  Under the pretense of allowing Mrs. Best to enjoy the party, Belle spent the rest of the afternoon and the early evening managing the kitchen, but as darkness fell, she slipped out for some solitude behind the barn. There were a few folks still celebrating, but she doubted they’d miss her presence. She despondently plopped down on the log bench Daniel and his father used for their work breaks. Alone for the first time since her confrontation with Francine, Belle let the tears fall. She was angry, hurt, and for the first time since coming to live here, ashamed of her past. Francine was right; she couldn’t read the word strawberry, or even her own name, for that matter. She now understood what Mrs. Best had been trying to explain. The Francines of the world were unkind, and being un-educated gave them only one more stick to help build their fires.

  “Belle?”

  It was Daniel.

  Belle stood and quickly turned her back, hoping he wouldn’t see she’d been crying.

  He could.

  “Hello, Daniel.”

  “Hello. I’ve been looking for you. Jo told me what happened.”

  “Jo’s got a big mouth,” Belle said with a watery laugh.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No. No, I’m not.” She turned back to face him. “Will you teach me to read?”

  Daniel scanned her for a moment. He sensed the seriousness behind the request and knew there was only one answer he could give. “Yes.”