For the Love of Annie

by Sabrah Huff Agee

  Without meaning to, Mary Louise began to inventory his physical attributes: burnished, golden— hued skin; unique greenish— gold eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes. His nose would be perfect, she thought, but for the small bump at the bridge. Mary Louise found she rather liked that small imperfection.

  Her gaze dropped to his generous mouth. His lips were well shaped and, when he smiled a rather charming dimple appeared in his left cheek. Mary Louise was staring at his dimple when she realized that his lips were moving. Oh dear! What had he said? "Pardon me? I— I'm afraid I didn't catch that."

  "I said I think you'll like the Victoria. It's the finest hotel in these parts."

  "That's nice," she murmured, still mesmerized by his dimple.

  Catching herself, Mary Louise looked away. How curious, she thought. She couldn't remember the last time any man garnered from her such careful scrutiny. She couldn't remember a specific feature of any of the gentlemen of her acquaintance— excluding, of course, the men in her family— and yet, she doubted she'd ever forget the unusual shade of Sheriff Matthew's green— gold eyes or the coppery hue of his sun— burned skin.

  Sheriff Matthews was tall like the Markham men, but leaner and more muscular than her brother and father. And there was something else about this man, some unfamiliar and perplexing quality that she'd felt the moment she saw him standing outside the depot. Even now, as they sat side by side on the hard wagon seat, Mary Louise was peculiarly conscious of his proximity, acutely aware of his heat when his arm accidentally brushed against hers, and of his scent, a faint but extremely pleasant scent that she couldn't name, but one which could only be described as. . . well. . . male.

  So preoccupied, it was a moment before Mary Louise realized the wagon had stopped outside the hotel and that the Sheriff had spoken to her again. "Excuse me?"

  His dimpled grin appeared almost self— conscious. "I asked if we've met somewhere before. I don't know what it is, but there's something about you that's so familiar that I believe we must have. I've been trying to place when or where that might have been."

  "I can't imagine, Sheriff. I've never been in Hollisburg before today."

  "Then perhaps it was somewhere else. Where is your home?"

  "Belle Rive," she said without thinking.

  "Belle Rive? I don't believe I've ever heard of the town."

  She laughed softly. "Belle Rive isn't a town, Sheriff. Belle Rive is a plantation in Tennessee."

  He arched a brow. "A working plantation?"

  "Of course, a working plantation." She tilted her head. "You seem surprised."

  "I am. You don't see many nowadays. Most I knew about fell on hard times during or right after the war. Has Belle Rive been in your family a long time?"

  "No, it hasn't." She knew her tone was defensive, but she couldn't help it. "My father purchased it at a tax sale after he and my mother came over from England back in sixty— nine."

  He chuckled. "So your daddy was a Carpetbagger."

  She cast a wary glance at him. "Yes, I guess he was."

  He shrugged. "Good thing he wasn't a Scallywag. Folks around here don't take kindly to Scallywags, or a Scallywag's daughter."

  "Oh, really?" she said drily. "And what, pray tell, do these folks do to the daughters of Scalawags?"

  "They hang 'em."

  "They what!" Then she saw the tell— tale twinkle in his eyes and knew that he was teasing her. When he began laughing, she laughed with him. "Shame on you, Sheriff. I thought you were serious. I will never again tell anyone that I live on a working plantation."

  "I grew up on a plantation," he said when they had finally stopped laughing. "Rose Hill. We had a big house with a long, tree— lined drive right up to the front door. I loved that place. Still do."

  She thought she detected a wistfulness in his voice. "But you left it?"

  He grinned crookedly. "My brother's the oldest son, so Rose Hill was passed down to him. " He twisted the reins over the brake handle, then set the brake and glanced over at Mary Louise. "Enough about me. What brought you to Hollisburg?"

  Mary Louise hesitated. Now was not the time to show her hand. "Well, I. . .I have family here."

  The sheriff arched a brow. "Oh? Who?"

  To avoid replying, she feigned a yawn. "Oh dear, please excuse me. I had no idea I was so tired." She gazed longingly at the hotel. "I'm sure my trunk has already been delivered to my suite," she hinted broadly, and smiled up at the Sheriff. "I'm afraid if I sit here a moment longer I'll fall asleep. I do hope you understand?"

  Sheriff Matthews jumped down from the wagon and reached to assist her to the boardwalk. "I'm sorry," he said as he lifted her down. "I should have known you'd be tired after such a long trip. I'll just escort you inside."

  "You needn't bother, Sheriff, I can find my way."

  "No ma'am. No gentleman would leave a lady standing on the street." He gave her no chance to argue as he took her arm. He was about to lead her inside when someone forestalled them.

  "Sheriff!" A man hurried down the boardwalk. "Wait up."

  Cooper sighed and turned toward him. "What is it, Charlie?"

  "You better come. We got trouble."

  "Can't it wait until I see this lady inside the hotel?"

  "Excuse me, ma'am, I didn't see you there." Blushing, the man touched the brim of his hat.

  "Miss Markham, allow me to introduce one of my deputies, Charlie Killgore."

  Mary Louise smiled a greeting. "I can see that Deputy Killgore is anxious to speak with you, so please, don't let me keep you."

  "But I— " Cooper began.

  "Sheriff Matthews, I do believe I can enter the hotel without further help," Mary Louise snapped. "I'm not a child that has to be led."

  "I never meant— "

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap," She said quickly. "It just proves that I'm not fit for company right now. Perhaps we'll see each other again sometime. Thank you, Sheriff, and nice meeting you, Deputy Killgore."

  When Miss Markham had disappeared inside the hotel, Cooper turned his attention to his deputy. "All right, Charlie, what is it that can't wait."

  "He's at it again."

  "Who's at it again?" Frustration made Cooper bark the question.

  "Jesse Blake is rip— roarin' drunk and demandin' to see you."

  Cooper heaved an exasperated sigh. "Damnation! With all the brothers— in— law in the world, why do I have to be saddled with the world's worst."

  Cooper drove the wagon back to the jail and with Deputy Kilgore's help, managed to get the large crate from Aunt Gwendolyn up the stairs and into his living quarters.

  "If you'll help Lizzie get this thing open," he said when they'd placed it on the floor of the entrance hall, "I'll go down and see what I can do about Jesse."

  "Sure, I'll help. I'm dying to see what your aunt sent Annie this time."

  "Yeah," muttered Cooper as he hurried back down the stairs. "So was I."

  He entered the jail through the back door and could hear Jesse Blake's loud, drunken voice the moment he stepped inside. Jesse had been a drunk for as long as Cooper had known him— which was practically all his life. The man hadn't changed in all that time— except to grow more slovenly. Because they were Marietta's brothers, Cooper felt a sense of family obligation to both Jessie and Elmer— though God knew they didn't deserve it. He had, against the advice of everyone he knew, given the sorry pair a monthly allowance beginning the day he married their sister. He'd continued sending the allowance even after Marietta left him, but added the condition that stay out of his sight.

  Cooper jerked open the rear door to the front office. "There's no need to yell, Jesse, I could hear you half— way down the street."

  Jesse whirled around and sneered when he saw Cooper. "Weel, now, if it ain't my brother— in— law. How you doin' Cooper?"

  "I was doing fine until I heard you were back in town. I told you if you ever came back to this part of the county I'd stop sending money to you. I wasn't bluffi
ng. As of this moment, your monthly stipend is a thing of the past."

  "Is that any way to talk to your wife's own brother? Marietta wouldn't like hearin' you talk to me like that."

  "Marietta couldn't have cared less how I talk to you, Jesse, and you know it. She despised both you and Elmer. Just tell me why you're here. If it's for money you can forget it."

  Jesse staggered toward Cooper. "It so happens I ain't here for no money. I hear'd you got Marietta's young'un up in your place and I wanna see her."

  Cooper glared at the man. "I don't want you anywhere near my kid, do you hear me, Jesse?"

  "Your kid? How can she be your kid when you ain't even seen Marietta in what...five years?"

  "Maybe I saw Marietta more than you think, Jessie. In any event, it's none of your business. Annie's mine and you will stay away from her." He jerked the man by the collar and scowled into his face. "I mean it, Jesse. If I catch you snooping around my kid, so help me God, I'll toss you in that jail and keep you there until you're too old to remember what it's like on the outside."

  "You ain't got no cause to treat me like 'at, Cooper. I ain't never done nothing to nobody."

  "Like hell you haven't. In case you've forgotten, I'm the man who married your sister so you couldn't force her into bed with the first man who had the price of a bottle of whiskey."

  "An' you wasn't much of a husband or she wouldn'a run off with them acting folks the first chance she got."

  Cooper clenched his fist, longing to bury it in Jesse's smirking face— because Jesse had spoken the truth. He hadn't been much of a husband to Marietta. Hell, he'd never even consummated their marriage. "What went on between Marietta and me was our business and no one else's," he ground out. "Now, get out of here before I forget that I was elected to keep the peace."

  Something in Cooper's expression must have warned Jesse that he'd better get, because the crude, unkempt man started backing toward the door. "You don't have no cause to git so mad, Cooper. I didn' come here to cause no trouble. I just wanted to see my sister's kid and find out how Marietta's doin'."

  "Marietta is dead, so don't you come here again on the pretext of asking about her."

  "Dead? My sister's dead and you didn' even have the decency to tell me?"

  "I told Elmer as soon as I heard. I assumed he'd tell you."

  "Well, he didn'. He didn' tell me nothin' about my baby sister bein' dead." Jesse pulled a filthy handkerchief from his pocket and noisily blew his nose. After wiping eyes that were still as dry as dust, he cocked his head. "I don't reckon she left me and Elmer no money or nothing?"

  Cooper clenched his teeth and took a step toward the man. "Get out of here, Jesse, before I kill you."

  BACK AT home at last, Annie tugged at Cooper's arm, drawing him down the hall and into her bedroom. There, she proudly showed him Aunt Gwendolyn's gift. It was a new bed— an ornate, wrought— iron creation with mosquito netting suspended over it. Cooper grinned. It might have looked right at Rose Hill, but it looked completely out of place in this shabby little room. However, it looked exactly like something Aunt Gwendolyn would choose— and, thank God, it didn't have to be fed.

  "Punkin," he said, lifting Annie into his arms. "I'd say that's a bed fit for a princess."

  "Ah— nee pinsess?"

  He kissed her dimpled cheek. "That's right, you're my princess."

  Since he was late getting home for the third time this week, Cooper decided he owed Lizzie more than an apology. "Why don't you sleep in tomorrow, Lizzie. Come at nine instead of the regular time."

  Lizzie frowned. "An' jis' what you gonna do with Annie whiles I is layin' up in the bed? Leave her all by her lonesome?"

  "I'll take her downstairs with me. She can play in my office for a couple of hours." At her doubtful expression, he insisted, "She'll be fine. Joe Bob will help me watch her. You know how he feels about Annie. The boy's crazy about her."

  "All right," Lizzie replied, but she still didn't look absolutely convinced. "I see y'all in the mornin' round 'bout eight."

  "I said nine."

  Lizzie crossed her arms. "An' I says, eight."

  Cooper threw up his hands in surrender. "Have it your way."

  When Lizzie was gone, Cooper sat down in his chair and grinned at Annie. "Look at you. I declare you look like an angel." He held out his hands. "Come to Papa."

  Dressed in a long white night gown, her hair a silvery halo of shiny, blonde curls, the cherub toddled with outstretched arms toward Cooper. He set her in his lap and straightened her gown. It had become Cooper's custom to have a chat with Annie each evening after supper. Lizzie teased him about it, said he spoke to child as if she were an adult. But Cooper insisted that Annie understood a good deal more than most people gave her credit.

  "Were you a good girl, Annie? Did you mind Lizzie?"

  Annie nodded her head vigorously.

  "That's my sweet girl." He kissed her nose. "I met a nice lady at the train station. She was real pretty and sweet as sugar."

  Annie leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Shuga?"

  "I didn't mean that kind of sugar." Then he remembered the woman's smooth, pale skin, her silver— blonde hair, her pouty mouth, and her huge, midnight— blue eyes— and he muttered, "Come to think of it, her sugar would probably be mighty sweet."

  Annie frowned. "Ah— nee shuga!"

  Cooper lifted a brow. "Do I detect a bit of jealousy for your old papa?"

  Annie threw her arms around his neck. "Ah— nee papa."

  He hugged her and kissed her sweet— smelling neck. "You bet I am, Annie, that's how it's always going to be."

  THE NEXT morning, Cooper was at his desk writing a report while Annie played on the floor at his feet when Mary Louise Markham surprised him with a visit. "Excuse me," she said as she stuck her head in the doorway of his private office. "The deputy said it would be all right if I came in."

  Cooper jumped to his feet. "Of course it's all right. Come have a seat, Miss Markham." He held out a chair for her.

  Annie, who'd been hidden behind Cooper's desk, stood up and toddled into view. Miss Markham gasped softly when she saw the child. "Oh, my," she murmured. "How beautiful she is."

  Cooper smiled proudly. "She is, isn't she?" He lifted Annie into his arms. "Miss Markham, may I present my daughter, Annie Matthews."

  Mary Louise could not take her eyes off the child. "She's absolutely perfect." She glanced up at Cooper. "May I hold her?"

  Cooper shrugged. "Annie, will you let the nice lady hold you?" Annie hesitated and then reached for Mary Louise.

  As soon Annie was in Mary Louise's arms, tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispered, "I can't believe it's really you."

  "Excuse me?"

  Mary Louise ignored him as she sat down in the chair and settled Annie in her lap. "Do you know you look exactly like your father?" she said to the child.

  Sheriff Matthews cleared his throat. "Thank you for saying so, but she really looks like her mother."

  Mary Louise bit her lip. She hadn't intended to speak her thoughts aloud. She must remember to be careful about that in the future. She smiled up at Cooper. "Well, whomever she favors, she's absolutely adorable."

  "I couldn't agree with you more. Of course, being her Papa, I'm somewhat prejudiced."

  "Not at all. Anyone would think so." You're not her papa, Mary Louise wanted to shout. Annie is Willie's daughter, not yours. But, of course, she couldn't say anything— at least not yet. Not until she knew more about Cooper Matthews. She must plan her strategy very carefully if she wanted to secure custody of her brother's child.

  Annie squirmed to get down from Mary Louise's lap and though she wanted to hold her and never let her go, Mary Louise allowed the child to slip to the floor. She watched Annie toddle over to Cooper and wrap her arms around his legs.

  "Ah— nee Papa," the child said and grinned up at him. "Ah— nee wuv Papa."

  Cooper bent to lift the child into his arms and then kissed her dimpled chee
k. "And I love you," he said. Then he grinned sheepishly when he saw Mary Louise staring. "Sorry, but I'm just a fool about my little girl. I sometimes forget anyone else is around. Was there something you needed to see me about?"

  "I only wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday. I still can't believe I fainted— I never faint."

  "So you said." He chuckled. "I'm sure it was the heat. I'm relieved to see that you're all right now."

  Why must he be so nice, Mary Louise thought miserably. He's making things much more difficult. She forced a smile. "You've been so kind, Sheriff. Will you dine with me at the hotel this evening?" When he didn't respond immediately, she urged, "Just think of it as a repayment for your kindness to me yesterday."

  "You don't owe me anything, ma'am, I was happy to do it."

  "Then join me as a favor? I really do hate eating alone."

  "I— I'll have to see if Lizzie will stay an extra hour or so— "

  "Lizzie?"

  "Lizzie Jackson, my housekeeper and Annie's nurse."

  "Oh, don't do that, Sheriff. Bring Annie with you."

  Cooper frowned slightly. "Bring Annie to the hotel for supper? I don't know...Annie's never been to a place like that. She might misbehave."

  "I'm sure she'll do just fine. Besides, how will she ever learn to behave in public if you never take her out?"

  Cooper rubbed his jaw. "Well, I suppose you're right about that." He shrugged. "If you're willing, then so am I."

  "Good! I'll meet you in the dining room at eight o'clock?"

  Cooper grimaced. "Better make it seven. Annie's usually sound asleep by eight."

  "Seven it is. I look forward to seeing both of you."

  COOPER climbed the stairs at the end of his shift and found to his relief that Lizzie had Annie ready for her first evening out for supper. Annie was dressed in a crisp, blue gingham dress with a starched, white organdy pinafore and one of Aunt Gertrude's blue satin bows adorned her long, silver— blonde curls.

  "Look at you, Annie Luv, if you aren't the prettiest girl in Hollisburg, my name's not John Cooper Matthews," Cooper said when he took Annie from Lizzie's arms.