by Afton Locke
Father set down his napkin. “I have exciting news.”
Before he went further, Rose already knew it involved her somehow. Her palms tingled as she waited for the rest.
“I went to the Sapphire Crab today,” he continued. “Mayor Carter’s wife wants to bring more gentility and social functions to Oyster Island.”
“What is a sapphire crab?” Rose asked.
“It’s a restaurant on the waterfront,” he replied.
“A restaurant,” Mother exclaimed with a bright smile. “Charles, we haven’t been to a restaurant since we left Baltimore. Let’s go some evening.”
Father swiped his lips with his napkin and tossed it down. “We can’t all be seen in public together.”
Confusion knit Mother’s brow. “Why not?”
He sighed. “I’m about to explain it to you.”
Rose’s head swiveled between her father at one end of the table and her mother at the other.
“You see,” he continued, “the mayor’s wife is holding a summer dance this Saturday evening for eligible young ladies. It’ll be a grand affair at the mayor’s home on the waterfront.”
“A white dance?” Mother asked.
When he nodded, Rose took a gulp of milk, choking on it.
“This couldn’t be a more perfect opportunity for Rose to find a good husband.” He turned to his daughter. “Darling, your name will be Rose Smith. If anyone asks about your family, which they invariably will, tell them you’re from Baltimore and your parents are deceased. There are surely too many Smiths there to trace.”
Rose clenched her hands in her lap. “You’re asking me to lie.”
Father waved his hand. “It’s not lying. It’s playing a role. Matchmaking is nothing but a play, you know.
The deep crease in Mother’s forehead boded a future headache. “Well, it sounds as if you have it all planned out.”
“I almost forgot.” He raised a finger. “Ella, you’ll accompany her as her maid.”
Mother looked as if she had been struck in the face, but said nothing.
Why did Father make this so complicated? If he would only let Leroy court her. Instead, the entire family had to lie, wear costumes and play roles. It didn’t seem right.
Rose pushed her plate away. Her appetite had fled so far she couldn’t even bear the sight of food.
“But Saturday is only two days away,” she said. “I have nothing to wear.”
“Ella, get her measurements tonight. Then take the automobile to Oyster Island tomorrow and buy something ready-made for her. Purchase a maid’s uniform for yourself as well.”
Mother held her palms up. “Wouldn’t it be easier to take Rose with me tomorrow so she could try on the gowns? It would be an enjoyable outing.”
Father set down his glass with a thump. “No, I don’t want anyone laying eyes on her until the night of the dance.”
“It’s all right, Mother,” Rose said quickly. “I’m anxious to paint again tomorrow.”
And to see if Leroy would return, but she couldn’t tell them that. What if he never did come see her again?
“Charles, I assume you want me to find her something conservative as usual?” Mother asked.
“Of course.” He paused and looked at the ceiling. “No.”
“No?”
Father scanned Rose with appraising eyes. “We need to show off her beauty to full advantage. I want jaws to drop when she walks into the ballroom.”
Rose’s eyes widened. Dropping jaws? Did he expect her to go to the dance in the nude?
“Be daring, Ella,” he instructed. “And spare no expense.”
Mother blinked for a moment. “Well, if you insist.”
To Rose’s surprise, Father walked over to her, planted a kiss on the crown of her head and then took her hand as he knelt by her chair.
“You’ll be the most beautiful belle there. Oh, Rose. You’ve grown into such a lovely young woman. I’m so proud of you.”
She diverted her eyes. “Thank you, Father, but I’m not sure I deserve your praise.”
Guilt for the indecent things she’d done with Leroy in that tree washed over her in a scalding bath. Even if Father approved of Leroy, she had no right to do those things unless she was married to him.
“Of course you deserve it,” Father continued. “You’re the first person in our family who will finally be somebody.”
Her shoulders ached as if he’d just placed a heavy burden on them. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
He stood and gave her hand one last squeeze. “You can and you will. Spend every moment until Saturday night thinking and acting white.”
“Yes, Father.”
Mother didn’t even look confused anymore. She just smiled at both of them because Rose was obeying her father’s wishes as a dutiful daughter would. This was much more pleasant than arguing with them about Leroy.
And she’d almost forgotten Saturday was the summer solstice. It would be a Midsummer Eve dance, attended in secret by all the fairies. Their magic would protect her from harm.
Just because Father ordered her to attend the dance didn’t mean it had to lead to marriage. The event might even be a welcome distraction from Leroy’s unexplained absence today. But those weren’t the only reasons she’d agreed so easily.
One tiny part of her was curious what it might be like to be white…
* * * * *
It was almost dark when Leroy heaved the last board in place under the tarp. He’d worked until dark last night and since sunup today. Construction on the new pier was underway and now the lumber would be protected from the elements until he was ready to use it.
In every board, he saw graceful oak tree limbs and Rose’s face. He’d sniffed every breeze that rolled off the water today, desperate for even a trace of her rosy scent. He hadn’t known her very long, but she’d stamped an impression on him deep as a knife cut.
Had she waited for him by the riverfront today? He was sure she had. What did she think when he hadn’t shown up? That he’d chosen his job over her or rejected her altogether?
In a blaze of fury, he tossed the last board down, barely missing his foot.
A figure moved in the darkness with feminine grace. It must be Pearl, the only woman here.
“There you are. I saved a plate for you,” she said.
He wiped his brow and took the tin plate from her. “Thanks. I got so busy I forgot about dinner.”
“Show me the pier,” she said.
As they walked in the moonlight, he guided her elbow so she wouldn’t trip on a stray root. They sat facing the water on some of the new boards he’d installed earlier. The beans and cornbread were still warm, and he didn’t look up until the tin was bare.
“Care to tell me why you’re working yourself to death?” she asked.
His jaw stiffened. “Just trying to make up for yesterday.”
“I think you’ve made up for it and then some.” She slapped a mosquito on her arm. “You won’t be any good to anyone if you wear yourself out.”
The tin plate scraped as he scooted it across the board by his side. “Your husband was angry as hell at me.”
She smiled in the darkness. “He does have a temper.”
“He sure does.” For the first time all day, he laughed.
“He’s very protective of me,” Pearl added. “If we can’t make our lives work here, we can’t make them work anywhere.”
Leroy clasped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees. “I let him down. I let you down.”
“No one’s perfect, Leroy.”
“It won’t happen again. I’ve given her up,” he bit out.
She leaned closer. “Who? The girl you were seeing?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Rose.
“Tell me about her.”
“Well, she paints pretty pictures and has the softest brown hair.”
Heat flashed through his loins when he remembered another spot where he’d found her hair soft.
She laughed. “That doesn’t sound much more comfortable than the shucking room Caleb and I courted in.”
“I still can’t believe we fell asleep up there.”
Pearl laughed harder, holding her stomach. “You’re lucky you didn’t fall out or find a bird nest in your hair.”
When he’d seen the late hour on his watch yesterday, his stomach had dropped out of that tree. Now he could find the humor in it. But the emptiness that had followed all day came back. He shifted positions. Sitting still for the first time all day made him realize how sore his muscles were.
“Her father wants to pass her off as white,” he said. “You know how dangerous that could be with the Klan on Oyster Island. I worry about her.”
“I don’t suppose you could pick someone less complicated?”
He stared at the water while small waves lapped the shore. “It’s her or nobody.”
“I thought so.”
“Another reason I’m working so hard,” he added, “is so I don’t have too much time to think about her.”
“Why can’t you see her in the evenings?” she asked.
Leroy scratched a mosquito bite on his neck. “I already talked about that with Caleb. If I go there in the evening, her daddy will chase me off with a shotgun. She paints in the afternoons by the waterfront.”
Pearl adjusted the ribbon in her hair. “Then work out a schedule with Caleb where you can see her for a couple of hours every afternoon and make up the time. The evenings are getting longer.”
Hope tried to jump inside his chest as if it were one of the fish. “Caleb would never allow that.”
She stood and picked up the tin plate. “Don’t underestimate him. If there’s one thing he understands, it’s love.”
He stood too and they made their way back to the cabins in the darkness.
“I’ll talk to Caleb,” she said.
“Good night,” Leroy said, kissing her cheek, “and thank you.”
But he didn’t dare get his hopes up.
* * * * *
Rose sat in her waterfront painting spot the next day, trying to free her mind of everything except ducks. Leroy would not come. She dared not hope he would only to be disappointed when he didn’t.
Her practiced fingers hovered over the tubes of pigments. The ducks were mallards so she reached for black, white and green to start with. Following a strange creative impulse, she squeezed out a long streak of white paint on her clean palette.
What was so great about white? By itself, it looked plain. Or was she biased toward colors because she was an artist? Next to it, she placed a streak of black. Complete opposites, she realized.
Seizing her brush, she dragged it through both colors. Each sweep gave birth to a different shade of gray. Tentative strokes led to frantic, forceful ones as the opposites blended to create something beautiful.
Why were her bloomers feeling especially warm? Was it because the rhythm of her strokes matched the pace of Leroy’s fingers between her legs the other day? Or because she hadn’t bothered to repair the seam he’d ripped open? The paint was so wet and fluid, filling the air with the scent of linseed oil and sticky, moist sounds.
She dropped the brush. Was there nothing she could do to forget that man?
“It looks beautiful but what is it?”
The unexpected voice behind her sent her brush flying into the air as her hand convulsed with shock.
“Leroy!”
She nearly upset the whole table and all her paints with it when she jumped up from her small folding stool and straight into his outstretched arms.
“I thought you’d never come again,” she cried against his shoulder as she squeezed her arms around his green work shirt.
He held her close, lifting her feet from the ground. “I couldn’t stay away from you, sweet girl.”
After he kissed her hard, filling her with his scent and the taste of his mouth, he set her down. She needed so much more than this brief hint of heat and sun-warmed wood.
“Did you get into trouble at work?” she asked.
Nodding, he took off his cap and laid it on her stool. “My boss was upset as hell with me. That’s why I couldn’t come yesterday.”
“I thought that must it,” she said as her heart continued to race.
He grabbed her hand and kissed each knuckle. “My cousin helped me figure out a new work schedule so we can spend time together.”
The touch of his firm lips on the sensitive skin of her hands made her knees even more wobbly.
“Oh, Leroy. That’s wonderful.”
“I brought you something.”
He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out what resembled a ball of wood. When he dropped it into her outstretched palm, she realized it was a hand-carved rose.
“It’s kind of rough because I’ve been short on time lately,” he said.
She pressed a kiss to his mouth and set the carving next to her easel. “It’s the most special gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you.”
A special gift from a special suitor. Leroy made her feel more like a woman every day.
He looked around. “Uh, where’s your mama today?”
“Father is working on the house and Mother is in town…shopping.”
His lips curved into a sly smile. “Then we’re all alone?”
She nodded, her belly tightening. They’d already done such daring things with her mother close by. What would he do to her now with no one around?
“Then what’s say you and I sit at the base of that tree instead of up in it?”
“How long can you stay?” she asked.
He glanced at his watch. “About an hour.”
They took the folded quilt from the cart and laid it under the tree. As soon as they sat on it, Leroy enfolded her in his arms and pressed a hard, hot kiss to the hollow of her throat, melting every solid in her body to liquid.
“Did I tell you how much I missed you?” he asked.
Her hands roved over the planes of his face. “I missed you too and I’m touching you just to make sure you’re real.”
“Oh, I’m real,” he assured her in a husky, peppery voice. To prove it, he ran his finger down a hank of hair that had escaped its ribbon. The long strand led his hand to rest on the swell of her breast.
Her back arched as he teased her stiff nipple through the jersey fabric of her dark-blue dress. When she looked down at his snug-fitting trousers, she saw how much he wanted her. A pulse throbbed between her thighs, more insistent than ever. They were alone and free to do whatever they wanted.
Leroy traced her broad shawl collar and reached below for the first large, fabric-covered button, tracing the pattern of gray dots. “Let’s not waste any precious time.”
She grasped his hand and pulled it away. “I don’t think we should…do those things again.”
His mouth tilted in a grin. “You seemed to like it just fine the other day.”
Heat flushed her cheeks as she gazed down at the quilt. “I liked it too much, but we aren’t married.”
He frowned as if he planned to argue they should be married again. His chest finally rose and fell on a big sigh.
“May I hold your hand then?”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “You may.”
After she offered her hand, they sat side by side with their backs against the tree trunk.
He nodded in the direction of her easel. “What are you painting?”
“Ducks. Maybe the fairies will work on the painting while I sit here with you.”
“Fairies?” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned them.”
“Don’t you believe in magic?” she asked.
“I believe in reality and hard work,” he said with a shrug. “Where did you hear about all this fairy business anyway?”
“When we lived in Baltimore, I didn’t have…many friends.
” She didn’t have any friends thanks to Father’s strictness. “Reading about fairies and imagining them kept me company. I don’t know if they really exist or not, but I like to pretend they do.”
He put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “Sounds like you need some real children to look after.”
The mention of children reminded her of marriage and the upcoming summer dance, chasing the breath out of her. What color would the father of her children be? What color would the children be? What color, for that matter, was she?
A strong finger under her chin interrupted her thoughts.
“Did I say something wrong?” Leroy asked.
She knew she shouldn’t tell him about the dance, but had a feeling he would get the truth out of her one way or another.
“Hell no,” he said after she explained it to him. “You’re not going to some white dance, hear?”
When she saw the angry flash of his eyes and the pulse beating in his throat, she wished she hadn’t told him.
“I can’t disobey Father. This is very important to him.”
His hand grew damp against her palm. “But you’re my girl. The thought of you dancing with some other man kills me.”
As she watched hurt battle anger on his face, she pictured herself dancing with him instead, swirling across the floor in an elegant gown.
“What kind of dance is this?” he asked, shifting his back against the tree as though he were a disgruntled bear.
“It’s to celebrate the first day of summer,” Rose replied. “Father says the mayor’s wife is having it at her home, so it’ll probably be formal.”
Leroy’s head shook from side to side. When he looked at her again, the corners of his eyes were creased with anguish.
“And did he also tell you Mayor Carter is the Grand Titan of the Klan in Oyster Island?” He made a wry grimace. “Pearl told me the initiation was held in that house last year.”
Dread curled around Rose’s neck and tightened. Surely, Father knew about this, didn’t he?
He stood and leaned against the tree. “If you have a death wish, you might as well go on the road and throw yourself in front of a car. Masquerading as a white in the Klan’s den won’t be any safer.”
