by Hines, Jerri
The room became deadly quiet. Abruptly, she stopped and collapsed down on her knees, staring down at her hands as if blood dripped from them. “He wouldn’t stop. He wanted to hurt me by harming Percival…”
Cullen’s brows drew together in sudden worry. He knelt beside her. “So Percival wasn’t being dramatic when he told me a bad man tried to kill him. Don’t you think it’s time to tell me the real reason Andrew felt it necessary to send you north? Don’t try to deny. After all these years, Andrew would never have slipped up unless it was intentional.”
She refused to look up at him with troubled eyes. “I tried to protect Percival, Cullen. I swear. I…did the only thing…I shot him…”
Taking her hands in his, his voice calmed. “Josephine, what happened? I need to know.”
Silent tears streamed down her face. “It was Buck,” she said in a low, wavering voice. “He rode up to Magnolia Bluff with Gus Harrison and accused me of ruining his life. Grandpa Henry died and the Groves was lost to him and Harry Lee. He was going to make me pay.
“It became chaotic. Amos lunged at Gus. I remember Amos knocking him over and then Buck shot Amos. Andrew came at Buck…it was at that moment Percival appeared, trying to get to me. Oh, Good Lord, Buck grabbed him. I saw Gus’s pistol at my feet. The next thing I remember, I had a gun in my hand and Buck lay dead.”
She clutched her bosom. Her body trembled. “I killed him…Cullen. I shot him in the back…they will say I’m a cold-blooded murderer…Andrew and Derek took care of the body, but Andrew said too many people had seen it happen. He said he couldn’t take a chance with Harry Lee. If he returned, he didn’t know if he could protect the children and me…”
“Ssh,” he said softly, wrapping his arms about her. “Andrew did right. I promise you are safe. The children are safe. Trust me, Josephine.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. Harry Lee is coming for me, Cullen, bent only on revenge. I see him in my dreams.”
“Did Andrew have any idea where Harry Lee is or was?”
“I’m not certain. Buck mentioned a Yankee prison camp.”
“Harry Lee will not harm you here,” Cullen promised. “Josephine, it is I who have much to apologize for…I should have pulled you and the children out from Magnolia Bluff after Wade’s death. I should have done a lot of things.”
Jo leaned into his strong arms. Her energy drained, she took comfort in his embrace, if only for a moment.
* * * *
Before dawn, Josephine woke. She had spent a restless night, but had awakened with a renewed determination. Cullen avowed she had the status of his wife. She was about to assert that status.
Seeing Miss Hazel encouraged Jo and reminded her of whom she was. Jo dressed with the help of her new maid, Mary, a young Irish immigrant. Jo liked her well enough, she supposed. The girl seemed eager to please, which served Jo well this morning.
Today, she was going to reclaim her children. Mary scrambled to keep up as Jo walked soundly down the hall straight to the nursery.
“Do you think this is wise, miss?” Mary said with her thick Irish brogue. “I think it’s just brilliant to want to have your daughter near you, but, I tell you, ma’am, I know Mrs. Smythe and she won’t like this none.”
Jo was not going to debate her intention with her maid. She never lost a step and continued onward into the nursery without knocking. Her eyes fixated on the crib where her daughter slept. Easing down gently, she lifted Madeline into her arms. Sleepy, her daughter cradled her head on her mother’s shoulder. Jo hummed “Hush Little Baby” as she used to sing to her.
“Mrs. Smythe, what…?” Mrs. Finnegan came in the side door, tying her wrap around her. “You can’t—”
“I can,” Jo repeated soundly. “Would you be so kind as to see to Madeline’s breakfast? She will be down in my room. Mary here is going to help me gather what we will be needing.”
Mrs. Finnegan hurried out the door. Jo had no doubt to where, but her attention lay on her child. “Now, my precious one, what would you like Momma to change you into for the day?”
Madeline smiled sleepily. “Momma.”
Jo’s heart swelled as she dressed her daughter. Oh, the word was like a song from the angels! The translucent peace did not last long.
“Josephine!”
“Why, good morning, Mrs. Smythe,” Jo greeted her mother-in-law, who obviously had been wakened out of a sound sleep. The older woman had not taken her usual care before leaving her bedroom. Her braided hair hung over her shoulder and she still wore her nightclothes.
“Josephine, you can’t simply take Madeline out of her room in this manner…”
“I am her mother,” Josephine said firmly. “I have decided to look after her myself. I won’t need a nanny. I am perfectly capable of doing so. I cared for my children at Magnolia Bluff.”
Looking down at her child, Jo smiled. “Are you ready to go?”
Madeline looked adorable dressed in a pretty rose printed cotton dress with her white drawers showing under her skirt. Smiling broadly, her daughter’s small arms reached out to her. Enormous pleasure washed over Jo. She gladly took her back into her arms.
“That may well be, my dear, but you are now in Philadelphia,” Monica retorted. “You need to learn—”
“I believe you will find I’m a quick learner, Mrs. Smythe.” Josephine tried a gentle approach. “I am sure you can understand my need to have my daughter close to me. I was telling Mary I want to move the crib into my room…”
“You’re what? You’re not taking Madeline into your room,” Monica exclaimed. “It’s unheard of.”
“I believe I can do what I want. Thank you.” Jo quickly relinquished her mild manner tactic. “Mary, we will bring only the necessities at the moment.”
“Wait until I tell Cullen,” Monica huffed and walked out of the room.
Jo wasted no more time and whisked her daughter down the hall, followed closely by Mary, whose arms were filled with clothes that fell haphazardly on the hallway carpet.
Footsteps sounded out in the hall and halted in her doorway. Cullen walked into her room, his jaw set; his brows furrowed.
“Do you want something, Cullen?” Jo held Madeline tighter.
Suddenly, Madeline cried out in delight and pushed against her mother. Her brother ran into the room. His hair disheveled, he hadn’t even taken the time to put his slippers on his feet.
“What are you doing, Momma?”
“Madeline is moving into my room so I can look after her for a while.”
“That’s not fair.” Percival pouted. “I can’t. So she can’t either.”
“She’s younger than you,” Jo reminded her son. “But don’t think I’m going to ignore my boy. I have missed you both terribly. I have so much planned for us to do.”
Clearly annoyed, Cullen said, “Don’t do this, Jo.”
Madeline wiggled out of her mother’s arms. She reached over to her brother, who took her hand and helped her climb up on their mother’s bed, as happy as you please. The two siblings sat together in wait for the promised day to begin.
“I’m hungry, Momma,” Percival declared. “When are we going to eat?”
Oh, good gracious, she hadn’t thought what she would do after she had the children. She had prepared for a battle, but now the skirmish was won. Whatever was she going to do with two children in her small room?
“It seems I won’t be getting anymore sleep this morning. Why don’t I have a tray of food sent up for us?” Cullen asked.
Jo glanced over at Cullen and gave him a small appreciative smile.
From his perch, Percival cried, “Breakfast in Momma’s room! Maddy, isn’t this fun!”
Madeline giggled; Percival laughed. Jo sat on her bed and embraced her children.
* * * *
Josephine frowned. The last few days had not gone as she had planned. In truth, though, she had no plan except to hold on to her children.
Looking around her room, it wa
s a mess. Toys littered the floor; clothes were strewn in a pile behind the door. A quilt covered the two highback chairs and table to form a tent that she and the children had played in.
The three of them had lived within the four small walls, much like they had done when they arrived in Washington—with a few significant differences. They could come and go as they chose and food was aplenty.
Jo had taken the children out for walks in the park with Mary. Elizabeth had even joined the little group. Gone was the arrogance that had raised Jo’s defenses. Elizabeth asked with the greatest humility and seemed quite sincere with her apology.
“It was not my intent to keep Madeline from you,” Elizabeth explained. “I worried about her because she is so sensitive. Of course, I would never keep a child from her mother.”
“As I do not want to keep you from my daughter,” Jo relented. The poor thing seemed quite upset. “Your care for her is evident.”
The children loved being outdoors, but for the last two days, it had rained…and rained. The room had become their world. Pushing back errant strands of hair from her face, Jo began to pick up the toys.
Stepping on one of Percival’s toy soldiers, she heard a crunch. She picked up her foot. To her dismay, she had crushed it soundly. Percival was going to be upset. He knew every piece he had.
She wanted to cry. Already her son was distraught and it was all her fault. Why had she pressed him while he was playing with his soldiers…why? She should have made light of Percival’s play. How confusing the war must be on the young boy.
It had not stopped her. When Madeline tried to grab one of her brother’s men, Percival grabbed it back. “No, Maddy, no. Momma, make Maddy put back my Rebel soldier!”
“Can she not play with you?” Jo asked.
Percival shook his head. “No, she doesn’t like to die. She cries.”
“Percival! Don’t be mean to your sister.”
“I’m playing Father,” he announced proudly and held one of the figures over his head. “He’s the greatest officer in all the war. I’m going to run over all of ’em Rebs!”
Taken back for the moment, she wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly. “Your daddy was a brave and true soldier…a hero, Percival, but aren’t you forgetting he was a Confederate?”
“No, Momma. Father was in the Navy. He says the war is almost over and the South is going to lose.”
She knelt beside him and took one of the figures in her hand. She smiled at her son. “You are talking of your new father, but you should never forget your real daddy, Percival. He was courageous and…”
“Father said he was.” Percival reached for the toy in his mother’s hand. “But Father is my real daddy. I know, for he told me.”
Heaving a weighty sigh, she pressed, “You’re mistaken, Percival. You may want him to be, but your father died…”
All her resolutions to maintain a positive approach when dealing with the different sides of the war dissipated. Her loyalty to the South…to Wade…had not faded. She realized the futility of arguing with an almost four-year-old. Moreover, she would be attempting to convince him the man who had just proclaimed himself to be his father…the man he worshiped…had lied to him.
Ignoring her common sense, she endeavored into reasoning with a child too young to understand the concept. All he understood was his mother’s attempt to take away what he wanted most dearly—a father…his real father. The man who died years before held little meaning to him, only talk in the empty air.
Soon, the argument spiraled out of control. Percival was adamant in his claim of who his real father was and Jo just as adamant as to who he was not. A senseless, meaningless quarrel. Another time, another place, she would have handled everything differently, but she, too, was a child clinging to a semblance of the past.
Opening up the toy chest, Jo leaned over to take the figure out of Percival’s hand. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it isn’t fair to your daddy. Until you can…”
The next instant he slapped her; the next, she slapped him back…not hard, but reactionary. He stared blankly at her—a look she would never forget. He cried and ran blindly out of the room.
Jo had made no attempt to rush after her son. She was well aware where he had headed. She well imagined her mother-in-law would be up shortly to inform her of her shortcomings. She had sent Mary down to check on her son.
Her maid had returned saying he was with Cullen. Her heart sank. He was safe, but the world she was so frantically trying to adhere to was slipping from her hands. She had no idea what she was going to do.
“Josephine.”
When she looked up, Jo saw Elizabeth enter the room. Outstretching her arms, Madeline ran over and hugged her tightly.
“I hope you don’t mind, Josephine,” Elizabeth said in a nervous manner. “I have arranged a small surprise for you.”
“Surprise?”
Elizabeth lowered her gaze down to Madeline. “I wanted to do something nice for you. You have been through so much. Being thrown into prison…I could never have survived. I’m not that strong.”
“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk of it.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth smiled and looked back up. “I was hoping I could watch the children for you this evening…just for a little while so you can take a nice long bath.”
“That sounds so wonderful, but…”
“It is set. I had Mary draw you a bath,” Elizabeth went on. “If you don’t mind, I will take Madeline downstairs. Mother has missed her. Percival is already with Cullen. You can enjoy a little time to yourself.”
Jo hesitated, but decided it would be for the best…if she could trust Elizabeth.
* * * *
In the bathing chamber across the hall from her room, Jo sank into the tepid water. A brief reprieve, she had time to think clearly. Admonishing herself greatly, she had let her emotions get the best of her.
How had her life come to this point? How she missed Wade! Wade had taken care of her every need, loved her and cared for her. He had known of her weaknesses and accepted them. She wiped back the tears that escaped down her cheeks. She didn’t have time for self-pity.
But…had she not done the same when she had lost Cullen? Cullen—who she had loved with the whole of her heart—had married another to save him. Dare she hope to rekindle that love?
A long-buried longing had re-emerged with Cullen’s appearance. Along with this feeling came a sadness. The realization that time had changed his love for her and replaced it with a hatred toward her. He had become vengeful—intent only on making her pay for having a life with his cousin.
Cullen had relented to let her have her children in her room, but she could not live this way for much longer. The question lay not of what she had to do, but how. For her own sanity, Jo knew she had to leave, but she was trapped.
She had not asked, but it was apparent even while she lived at Magnolia Bluff that her fortune was lost. What little she had went toward Magnolia Bluff. Whatever happened to her, it must survive. Wade had left Magnolia Bluff to Percival in his will—the ultimate declaration that Percival was truly his son.
Jo had never complained at Magnolia Bluff and missed it terribly. They didn’t have much over the last couple of years, but she was content with the children. They were happy. It was home. A home they couldn’t return to, not with Harry Lee out there somewhere.
Here—here she was a foreigner—a hated foreigner—but whatever she had to endure, she would do so to keep her children and protect them at all cost. Silently, Jo swore one day her children would be able to return to Magnolia Bluff.
Mary knocked softly and entered. She placed the contents of her arms down on the table in front of Jo. “Mrs. Smythe, I have some clean clothing I believe will suffice.”
“Thank you,” Josephine said. “That will be all.”
She exited her much-needed bath and toweled down. She caught sight of the lotions on the shelf. She rubbed the lotion into her freshly b
athed skin and savored the sumptuousness of her bath.
Looking at the nightdress Mary left, she wondered where she had obtained the apparel. They looked familiar: a white silk nightdress with a matching wrap and new soft and dainty undergarments. Slipping it over her head, she let it slither down her body, clinging to her curves in the most provocative manner.
A slit up the side of the gown displayed her naked leg. She remembered…it had been part of her trousseau she had picked out when she thought she was to marry Cullen. He must have saved her trunks…which meant she might have more of her belongings.
Jo dried her long, raven hair until it was damp and then brushed it until it glistened in the candlelight. It fell well beyond her waist, so she left it down until she could have Mary braid it. Tying the wrap about her, she walked back into her room.
With her hand on the handle, she told herself she would make it right with Percival. She wanted nothing more than to hug her son and simply put the incident behind them.
She opened the door. Immediately, all the confidence she had garnered vanished. The room had been cleaned…moreover, it was immaculate. The floor was bare of toys and clutter. The crib had been moved—all evidence of her children had disappeared. She had been tricked!
Seething, she turned back toward the door, but it was blocked. Much to her consternation, Cullen leaned casually against the doorframe.
Indignant, she cried, “Get out of my way!”
“I think not, my dear.” He walked into the room and shut the door. “It’s time we talk.”
Venting her despair, she pressed, “Where are my children? What cruel trick have you played upon me?”
“Josephine, truly, you couldn’t possibly think you could camp out in your room forever. Don’t blame Elizabeth about Madeline. I told her to do so. The small one is being quite well looked after. Several people have missed her terribly.”
Jo whirled around to face him, but immediately she realized he had no intention of letting her leave the room. She caught her breath. He was too close. His unbuttoned shirt hung loose over his trousers, revealing his hard, muscular chest. She took a step back.
