For the Love of Annie

by Sabrah Huff Agee

  Cooper smiled up at the old woman. "Thanks, Lizzie. Like I always say, I don't know what Annie and I would do without you."

  Lizzie's smile was pleased. "Well," she said, "I reck'n if y'all behaves, you won't have to find out no time soon."

  When Annie finished eating her taffy, Cooper dutifully wiped her hands and face in spite of the child's protests to the contrary. "Be still, Annie," Cooper gently scolded. "If I don't get the sticky off your hands and face, Lizzie'll have my head."

  Annie put a finger on Cooper's brow. "ZeeZee head?"

  "That's right, Lizzie'll have my head." He kissed her hand. "All clean. Now what shall we do?"

  "Tory? Ah— nee tory."

  Cooper raised a brow. "You want a story?"

  She nodded her head until her pale curls danced. "Tory!"

  Reading a story to Annie had become a nightly ritual they both looked forward to. Cooper carried Annie into the parlor and sat down. He reached for the book that he kept beside the chair and held it for Annie to see.

  "This story?"

  Annie giggled and nodded. "Tory." She twisted in his lap until she was cuddled in the crook of his arm. As he opened the book, Annie stuck her thumb in her mouth. With the other hand she patted the book. "Weed," she demanded.

  Cooper chuckled. "Such a bossy little girl."

  Belle Rive Plantation

  DARLING, I do wish you wouldn't do this," Angus Markham said for the tenth time in as many minutes. "It isn't seemly for a young woman to go traipsing off to some strange place without a proper escort. Wait until Erik gets back. I'm sure he'd be happy to go with you," he said.

  Dr. Erik Knudson, only a few years older than Mary Louise, had come from Norway as a small boy to reside with his eldest sister's family. Erik had always seemed more a second son to Angus than a brother— in— law and he'd been a great source of comfort to both Angus and Mary Louise after Willie's death.

  "There's no telling when Erik will return from that medical conference and I can't wait." Mary Louise carefully folded an article of clothing and laid it inside her valise. Then she glanced across the room where the family housekeeper was packing several items in a Saratoga trunk.

  "Don't forget to pack the green— striped shirt— waist, Cora, and the dark green skirt, they require the least amount of care." Then Mary Louise turned to her father. "We've been over and over this, Papa. If I'm to bring Willie's daughter to Belle Rive I must go to Alabama to fetch her."

  "I know you have to go, but can't you at least wait until I can go with you?"

  Mary Louise sighed. "Papa, darling, did that fall from your horse last week addle your brain as well as break your leg? You know it will be weeks before you can travel." She walked over and kissed his balding pate. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

  "So you say," he retorted huffily. "Why must you be so hard headed?"

  She chuckled. "You're the one who taught me to follow my own instincts and ignore the restrictions society places on my gender."

  Angus rolled his eyes and groaned. "Don't remind me. I must have been knee— walking drunk at the time."

  "You were stone— cold sober, Papa, and you know it."

  He groaned again. "Do you see what comes from not having a woman around? Oh, how I wish Astrid had lived long enough to see you grown. She would have known how to handle your head— strong ways. I obviously do not."

  Mary Louise looked across the room to Cora's husband. "Amos, that trunk is much too heavy for you. Have Toby put in it the carriage." She turned back to her father. "Papa, you did a wonderful job raising me. I'm strong and healthy as a horse, I've a wonderful education, I've traveled all over the world, and learned more than some people do in a lifetime. What's more, with your encouragement I've made use of my brain. Which is more than most women my age can say."

  "Most women your age are married and have five or six children by now," Angus said petulantly. "I should be bouncing grandchildren on my knee, not worrying about my willful daughter, the notorious Blue Stocking of Belle Rive, riding off to some god— forsaken place in Alabama without an escort."

  Mary Louise chuckled. Several years ago a suitor had dubbed her The Blue Stocking of Belle Rive when she'd refused his offer of marriage. "You know very well that I have no intention of giving up my freedom for matrimony, Papa." She nodded toward her father's heavy plaster cast. "Besides, you'd have a bit of trouble bouncing anything on that knee. But don't worry. If everything goes as I think it will, you'll have a grandchild to spoil very soon."

  "How soon? How long do you plan to be away?"

  "However long it takes to find Annie and bring her back. Probably no more than a week or two. In any case, I'll stay in touch so you'll know I'm all right."

  "What makes you think this Matthews person is going to just hand over the child?"

  "Oh, Papa," she said, her tone condescending. "Why on earth would any man want to raise a child sired by another man— a living, breathing reminder of his wife's infidelity? I should think he would be delighted to have her taken off his hands."

  "Perhaps. But he's had the child for several months now. It possible that he's become rather attached to her."

  "I sincerely doubt that's the case." She leaned against the ornately carved post of her bed and crossed her arms. "But, if he loves the child, then he's going to want what's best for her, isn't he?"

  "Yes, I'm sure he will."

  "Well, then, how could he refuse to let her come to live at Belle Rive? How could he, in good conscience, deny her what is rightfully hers? She is our flesh and blood, Papa. She is a Markham. She's nothing to him— except, perhaps, a millstone around his neck."

  Angus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I see what you mean. If he doesn't care for her, then he'll be glad to see her go. And if he does care..."

  "If he wants what's best for her, he'll allow her to come back with me to Belle Rive— where she belongs." Mary Louise laughed happily. "Don't you see, Papa, either way, we can't lose."

  Angus frowned at his daughter. "Darling, I've never known you to be so callous about another's feelings."

  Her smiled slipped. "I'm sorry Papa. I suppose I do sound callous, and I don't mean to. It's just that this quest has been a long and difficult one and now that I'm nearing the end of it I'm almost giddy with excitement."

  "Still, Mary Louise," her father said, his tone gently chiding, "We must remember to be grateful to Mr. Matthews for caring for Willie's child all this time. As you so aptly pointed out, it can't have been easy for him."

  Mary Louise sighed. "Of course, you're right. And I will extend our gratitude to him. Perhaps I should offer to compensate him financially."

  Angus looked thoughtful and then shook his head. "I think I would wait and test the waters before making such an offer. You wouldn't want to insult him."

  "Of course, you're right. I'll just have to play my hand as it's dealt until I see how things stand with the good sheriff."

  "NEXT STOP, Hollisburg!"

  The unexpected shout startled Mary Louise out of her reverie and she dropped her caba. As she bent to retrieve the small handbag, the train lurched and she banged her head on a brass handle affixed to the wall.

  "Stuff and bother," Mary Louise muttered as she straightened her feathered hat. She'd been traveling for more than six hours and was wrinkled and miserably grimy. Perspiration trickled between her breasts and down her back, her rigid corset pinched and chafed the tender flesh under her arms, and her mouth felt gritty. The clout on her head had worsened her already throbbing head, and when Mary Louise touched the spot she felt a lump the size of a small egg at the edge of her hairline.

  She clutched her stomach, suddenly sick with apprehension. When she'd boarded the train in Memphis early this morning, she'd been confident of accomplishing her mission, sure that everything would go exactly as she'd planned.

  But since crossing the border into Alabama, her conviction had waned a little with each passing mile. Now, as the train sped toward her destination, the
bit of self— confidence she'd managed to retain thus far began to evaporate at the precise moment she heard the whistle blast proclaiming the train's imminent arrival. With a stifled moan, she nervously gathered her belongings in preparation for her entry into unknown and, very possibly, hostile territory.

  As she stepped onto the wooden platform of the depot, Mary Louise squinted against the glare of the midmorning sun. It was hot and still, not even a hint of a breeze relieved the oppressive heat.

  Soot from the train's smoke stack settled over Mary Louise like a sheer, gray shroud causing a fit of sneezing that was nearly her undoing. Quickly withdrawing a lace— trimmed handkerchief from her caba, Mary Louise held it to her mouth and nose as she made her way across the wide planks of the platform to a shady spot under the eaves of the squatty, red— brick station house.

  She decided to wait in this bit of shade until she was certain her Saratoga trunk was off the train. It would not do to be stuck in this Godforsaken place with only the clothes on her back. Mary Louise sighed with relief when she saw the trunk being loaded on a freight wagon, its high wooden sides emblazoned with the words Hotel Victoria. Her baggage would be safely delivered to the hotel. Now how, she wondered, was she to get there?

  She glanced around, anxiously searching for some means of public transportation when her gaze flickered over a tall, neatly dressed man who had, like her, sought out the only shady spot on the platform. To her dismay, his image begin to waver in the sweltering heat. Mary Louise tried to blink away the tiny dancing lights that suddenly appeared before her eyes, but the spots seemed to grow thicker, like fireflies on a summer evening.

  Feeling strangely lightheaded, Mary Louise searched the platform for somewhere she could sit down, but there was nothing, not even a bench in sight. Head pounding, she put her gloved hand to the aching bruise on her brow and then, without a hint warning, her knees buckled and the world went suddenly black.

  Chapter 5

  COOPER jumped down from the rented wagon and tethered the mule under the only shade tree outside the depot. He'd hired the buckboard after receiving a wire from his Aunt Gwendolyn. The elderly woman lived in New York with her third husband and, though Cooper hadn't seen her in nearly fifteen years, they had corresponded on a regular basis since Cooper was little more than a child. In his last few letters to Aunt Gwendolyn, Cooper had described his unexpected induction into fatherhood and the adventures that followed. Aunt Gwendolyn immediately began sending gifts to her new grand— niece: frilly dresses, hair ribbons, and dolls. Three days ago Cooper received a wire saying that another gift from Aunt Gwendolyn was arriving on today's train. She hadn't said what the gift was, only that he should hire a wagon to fetch it from the depot. Knowing his eccentric aunt's taste for the strange and exotic, Cooper prayed it wasn't something that would require food, water, and a home of its own.

  The midmorning sun was hot, and Cooper took refuge beneath the eaves of the station house to await the train's arrival. He smiled when he heard the faint sound of the whistle heralding its rapid approach.

  While the crate containing Aunt Gwendolyn's gift to Annie was being loaded on the rented wagon, Cooper studied the people exiting the train. He immediately noticed the woman with pale, silver— blonde hair tucked artfully beneath a feathered hat. Now there is a beautiful woman, he thought, watching as she trod carefully down the metal step. Beautiful, but not too practical. Unlike the other female travelers who wore simple calico or gingham in deference to the heat, this woman was dressed in a heavy traveling suit.

  While Cooper covertly admired her, she removed a handkerchief from her handbag and held it to her mouth as she took shelter from the sun under the eave of the depot. She glanced in his direction and as their gazes met Cooper was instantly struck by a sense of recognition. Before he had time to wonder about it, however, she collapsed.

  Cooper ran to her inert form, knelt beside her, and gently patted her face. "Miss? Can you hear me?" When she didn't respond, Cooper hesitated only a moment before scooping her into his arms and carrying her inside the station house.

  "Claude Earl," he yelled to the station master. "Bring some water over here and bring it quick!" Cooper carefully laid the woman on a long bench. He snatched off her feathered hat and grimaced as hidden pins pulled threads of pale, silvery hair from the confining coiffure. He laid the hat aside, then stripped off her cotton gloves and began rubbing her hands. She was unresponsive, so Cooper picked up a discarded newspaper from the floor and vigorously fanned her. Finally, while muttering under his breath about the stupidity of high fashion, Cooper removed her long— sleeved jacket and began to unfasten the topmost buttons of her chin— high shirtwaist.

  A small crowd gathered as Claude Earl hurried over with a bucket of water. He set it on the floor beside Cooper and stood back to gawk with the others. Behind his thick spectacles, Claude Earl's eyes were wide with curiosity. "Who you reckon she is, Sheriff?"

  "No idea," Cooper murmured as he withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and bent to dip it in the water. He frowned when he noticed bright— green algae floating in the bucket. "Jesus, Claude Earl, where'd you get this water?"

  "Out of the horse trough. You said to get it quick, and that was the closest place I could think of."

  Cooper shrugged. He guessed it didn't matter. It wasn't as if she were going to drink the stuff. He plunged the handkerchief in the water and wrung it out. Then, as he gently patted it on the woman's face and neck she began to stir. Finally, her lids fluttered open to reveal eyes as blue as sapphires, beautiful, thick— lashed, and bewildered.

  "W— What happened? Where am I?"

  Cooper stepped back as she rose slowly to a sitting position. "You're in the train station," he replied. "You fainted out on the platform."

  "Impossible. I never faint."

  Amused by her resolute reply, Cooper grinned but didn't bother to argue the obvious. "How do you feel?"

  She looked around slowly, as if trying to get her bearings. Then, as if she'd just realized several of her buttons were undone, her hand flew to her neck and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Avoiding the eyes of those gathered around her, she quickly fastened the neck of her shirtwaist, then attempted to stand.

  She was unsteady on her feet and Cooper grabbed her elbow to support her. "Take it easy, Ma'am. Get up too fast and you're liable to find yourself right back on the ground."

  She gazed up at him and then at the hand on her arm. "I'm fine now, thank you." Her pointed stare and icy tone left no doubt as to the underlying meaning of her words. Cooper immediately released her arm and handed her the jacket and hat he'd removed.

  "Should I send for a doctor?" Claude Earl asked Cooper.

  Cooper arched a brow at the woman and she shook her head. "No, I'm perfectly all right."

  "Is someone supposed to meet you?" he asked.

  She looked a little uncertain. "No. I have reservations at the Victoria. I was looking for a conveyance when I..."

  "Fainted?" Cooper supplied, and he coughed to conceal a chuckle of amusement.

  Cheeks flaming, she looked away and muttered, "I never faint."

  "I'll be happy to give you a lift to the hotel, Miss...?"

  She glanced at him. "Markham, Mary Louise Markham. And you are?"

  "Sheriff Cooper Matthews."

  Cooper thought he detected a flash of something in her eyes. Recognition? But the look was gone so quickly he decided he must have imagined it.

  Abruptly her demeanor changed. "I'm pleased to meet you, Sheriff Matthews. Pardon me if I seemed rude just now. I'm a bit embarrassed and I'm afraid I took my distress out on you." She beamed a smile at him. "Unless you wish to retract it, I will be happy to accept your kind offer of a ride to the hotel."

  Cooper was puzzled by her change in attitude, but he did not remark on it. "Why don't you sit here while I see to your baggage."

  "Thank you, but that won't be necessary, Sheriff. I saw my Saratoga and other bags being loaded on a freight wago
n shortly before I..."

  "Fainted?" He simply couldn't help baiting her.

  But this time she didn't take the bait. She merely smiled at him and replied, "Yes, just before I fainted."

  A commanding glance from Cooper sent the gawking crowd scurrying about their business. Then he gestured toward the door leading outside. "My wagon is this way, Miss Markham."

  "THIS IS A lovely town," Mary Louise said as Cooper guided the wagon down the street and toward the Hotel Victoria.

  "Thank you ma'am. I've lived here all my life and I can't imagine living anywhere else." Cooper was aware as he watched her out of the corner of his eye that the woman seemed to be quietly sizing him up. But for what, he wondered.

  "I imagine it's a good place to raise a family?" she asked.

  "Yes ma'am, I think so."

  "Are you married, Sheriff?"

  Cooper stiffened at the question and was immediately suspicious. He'd noticed when he'd removed her gloves back at the depot that the woman wore no wedding band. Had the fainting spell only been a ruse to get his attention? It wouldn't be the first time a husband— hunting spinster tried to work her wiles on him. Though he couldn't imagine this woman having to hunt for a husband. "No ma'am," he finally replied, "I'm a widower."

  "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have asked such a personal question. I'm usually not so impertinent. It...it must be the heat."

  He hesitated, and then said, "That's all right. My wife and I...well, we were separated before she passed away." Cooper noticed that the woman appeared relieved to hear this, and the intensity of his suspicions moved up a notch.

  Mary Louise covertly studied her adversary. He was nothing at all as she had imagined him. For one thing, she hadn't expected him to be quite so good— looking. He wasn't as handsome as Willie, of course, but then her brother had been without equal. Willie had been beautiful. Everyone had said so, Mary Louise thought with a touch of motherly pride. Cooper Matthews could never be described as beautiful, nonetheless, he was extremely handsome.