Love Lasts Forever

by Dominiqua Douglas

  “Nothing at all, except that the hour is much later than I thought.”

  “It’s not very late,” Leah contradicted. “Why, we haven’t even had dessert, yet. Aunty Nitta baked an apple pie. You simply must stay to have some.”

  Thor glanced at Leah’s father. The older man’s face held a peculiar expression as he looked from his daughter to Thor. Davis smiled. “The old girl makes the best apple pie. Restaurants in Atlanta buy them from me, and none has ever complained. You cannot pass up a slice.”

  “But it’s late,” Thor hedged.

  A small part of him wanted to see if he could secure an invitation for the night. At least once on this journey, he wanted Willow to have a decent resting place. Concern for Willow’s welfare nagged him. He had to see for himself that she was safe. He ached to hold her in his arms again. That thought pushed him from the table. His chair toppled.

  He righted the chair on reflex and spoke directly to his host. “I should be on my way.”

  “Do you have urgent business elsewhere?” Davis asked.

  “No, I’d rather not be a burden.”

  “You’re not a burden,” Leah piped in.

  “Leah,” her father warned in brusque tone. “We would be much obliged if you would accept our invitation to stay the night. I assure you, it would be no trouble at all for you to stay.”

  One goal accomplished. “I accept and I thank you for your kind offer. However, I must decline the offer of apple pie. I’m allergic.”

  “I’m sure Aunty Nitta has something else that would be to your liking,” Leah offered. “Charlie!” Her voice cracked like a whip. One of the young twins snapped to attention. “Run to the kitchen and tell Nitta we need another dessert.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Thor said before Charlie could hand his fan to his brother. “The supper was quite filling, and I haven’t any room for dessert. I appreciate the offer, however. If you would excuse me, I need to stretch my legs for a spell and speak to my…er, boy. How would I go about locating him?”

  Leah’s mouth opened to answer him, but her father spoke first. “Charlie, show Mr. Thor to the slave quarters. Any of them down there will know where Lucas put him.”

  * * *

  The slave quarters weren’t exactly what Willow expected. She always imagined that something akin to huts or tents housed the captive Negroes. Momentary relief soothed her when the overseer led her to a row of small wooden buildings.

  “You don’t talk, do you?” the man asked.

  Willow shook her head in response, and he grunted. “Old Aunt Sally will have enough to say for both of you.”

  Chickens created a racket in the back as he strode to the third structure and pushed open the door. An old, wrinkled woman stood at a fireplace, stirring inside a good-sized iron pot. She didn’t bat an eye as the uninvited guests entered her candlelit abode. She continued to stir and acknowledged them with a nod.

  “Good. You’re cooking. This here boy came with Mr. Davis’s dinner guest. Look after him,” Lucas ordered. He shoved Willow toward the center of the room. “I ’spect he’ll be staying the night. Fix up a pallet for him, too.”

  Sally nodded. Lucas slammed the door after him. Willow peered past the brim of her hat to get a closer look at the quarters and its inhabitant.

  The space was actually livable and very clean. A square wooden table occupied the center of the room. Three chairs bordered the table, and Willow wondered if anyone else lived there besides the old woman. An intricately designed quilt covered a bed that rested against the wall adjacent to the door. A wooden chest marked a space at the foot of the bed, and another quilt rested on top it.

  Sally worked the pot as if it was a lifeline. Willow felt the old woman’s eyes on her with every stir of the wooden spoon. Careful to keep most of her face hidden, she tilted her head to the side to get a better view. Sally’s flesh was the color of dark, rich blackberries. Lines fanned the corners of her eyes, and Willow couldn’t be sure if they were from laughter or worry. A faded blue rag served as a kerchief around the woman’s head, but strands of silver and gray managed to curl around the edges of the cloth. A dark woolen skirt fell to her ankles, and a pair of men’s work boots covered her feet.

  “Rest yourself at the table,” Sally advised. “The cabbage is just about ready.”

  Willow made a sign that she wanted to wash her hands. Sally pointed toward a pail near the fireplace. “You can dry your hands with that rag over yonder.”

  Once her hands were dry, Willow sat at the table. Sally finally stopped stirring to give her a hard look. “You can take that hat off. I know you ain’t no boy. Ain’t nobody coming up in here, and if they do, the chickens out back will put up a fuss. Go on. Take off that hat so’s I can see who’s at my table.”

  Willow frowned. She wasn’t sure about trusting the old woman. Sally’s eyes glowed with intelligence and concern, and Willow’s resolve weakened. She removed the hat and met the woman’s intense stare. “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t get to be this old without knowing a man when I see one.”

  “Think the overseer knows?” Willow shot a worried glance toward the closed door. If the overseer knew the truth, he might become suspicious of Thor and warn Davis.

  “He don’t know nothing,” Sally assured her. “He sees you dressed like a boy, and that’s what he thinks. Unless you do something to make him think otherwise.”

  “No, ma’am.” Willow shook her head. “I don’t plan to.”

  Sally set a plate of steaming cabbage in front of her. “It ain’t much, but it is filling.”

  The delicious aroma reminded Willow that she hadn’t eaten for hours. Her mouth watered. She grabbed a spoon and dug in, remembering to express her gratitude as she lifted the steaming vegetable to her parted lips. “Thank you.”

  Sally grunted. “Don’t be thanking me. I did it ’cause I was told to, but I wouldn’t let a body starve on no account.” She carried another plate to the table and sat across from Willow. “Why you in that get up? Do your massa know you ain’t a boy?”

  Willow wasn’t sure what to say to that. Just because Sally’s flesh was colored, didn’t necessarily mean that Willow should trust her. She chewed her bottom lip as she tried to create a suitable response.

  “I ’spect he does. All of ’em do a complete inspection when they get you off the auction block. Don’t make no sense for him to let you dress like a boy, though.”

  Apparently, Sally didn’t need an answer. She was fully prepared to come up with her own explanation. Willow sighed in relief and ate more cabbage.

  “Hear tell you came in with Big Nat and the overseer’s boy, Grady Falls. He almost made it.” Sally tisked. “He’s gon’ pay for it now for sho’.”

  Digesting those few words, Willow’s appetite faded. She lowered her spoon to the plate. “How? What will happen to him?”

  “He’s locked up now, but they’ll take him soon.” Sally chewed as she talked. “Big Nat is new here, and he’s got to learn a lesson. The Massa be willing to make sure he learn it well. I ’spect floggin’. Something to make him r’member and warn the others not to try the same.”

  “Flogging?” Willow repeated. Bile lodged in her throat. “When and where?”

  “It’s too dark for ’em to do it now. They’ll want to do it when the sun is shining high in the sky so’s everybody can watch and learn,” Sally replied. “More ’n likely it’ll happen before the noonday meal at the steps of the big house. Floggings happen up there so the massa will have a place to sit. He can’t stand for very long, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” Willow said under her breath. She twisted the hat between trembling fingers and tried to think of a way to stop it. Informing Thor was a must, but then what? How would they get Big Nat out of lock up without Davis and his overseer finding out? Where was lock up? Was it accessible or would it be guarded?

  “You fit to be tied over this, ain’t you?” Sally commented. “When you’re young
you think of runnin’ up north to freedom. When you gets old as me, you knows it don’t always work out like that.”

  “Did you ever try?”

  Sally pushed her empty plate toward the table center and sat back. She shook her head. “I thought about it, but never made it off the place. My man did, though. He took off. Don’t know if he made it. Imagine he did.”

  “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  “I was aiming to, but we had some little ones. I wanted to wait until they were bigger. Turns out it didn’t matter no how.”

  The hairs on the back of Willow’s neck stood on end. She sat up straight and leaned toward her hostess. “What do you mean?”

  “Massa Davis’s daddy was alive back then. He waited ’til my babies were big enough and sold ’em.”

  Willow’s mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you run away then?”

  “Why? My man was gone, and so were my chillun. No point in running off. Nowhere to go.”

  “Maybe you could have found your man.”

  “And maybe I couldn’t have,” Sally countered. “It was too late for me then. I should have listened to my man. Grab the younguns and ran off with him. I didn’t and paid the price for it. If the Gospel Train call you, I say hop aboard.”

  * * *

  The slave quarters, laid out in neat rows, vaguely reminded Thor of a few housing projects he’d seen while doing charity events for the Falcons. Decently constructed buildings created a façade that couldn’t possibly correspond with the inhabitants. Oppression could still exist despite the appearance of well-made structures.

  Adults conversed outside while their young children played at their feet. Thor read their expressions. Distrust and resignation were plain to see. He could not change their situation.

  Realization gnawed at his gut. He hated feeling helpless and lowered his head. His pace quickened. Cackling chickens cried out. He reached the quarters where the overseer placed Willow. Desperation to know her plight plagued him. He forgot his manners and strode in without thinking to knock first. The door slammed shut behind him.

  Willow’s eyes widened in shock. She blindly adjusted the hat on her head, pulling it low over her face. He felt bad for scaring her and crossed the dimly lit room to face her. “It’s me. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I heard the chickens and suddenly the door opened,” she said in a breathless rush. “I should have kept the hat on.”

  She pushed the hat from her forehead, and he removed it. “You can leave it off for a little while.” He stared intently into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine if that’s what you mean. The overseer left me here. Miss Sally shared her supper with me.”

  Thor stiffened. In his haste to reach her, he failed to notice whether they were alone. He looked around the candlelit room.

  “She’s visiting a friend. One of the children has a stomachache,” Willow explained.

  “She knows you’re a woman?” He brushed his fingers against her soft cheek. Her body shivered from his caress. Resisting the urge to possess her again became difficult. It couldn’t be normal to want someone this much.

  “Yes.” Her voice dripped over him like warm, sweet honey. “She figures that you must know, too. I didn’t tell her yes or no to that.”

  He nodded. While she spoke, her full, soft lips captured his attention. An invisible cord pulled his mouth to her. She gasped as his mouth closed over hers. Her body became slack. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands clung to him at first, and then pressed against his chest, pushing him away.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled as he stepped back and released her.

  “We have to be careful. I—I enjoy your kisses, Thor.”

  He smiled. “I know, but you’re right. We shouldn’t kiss here. Come back with me to the main house.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “If I want you to, you can. And Willow,” he added in a low voice, “I do want you to.”

  Her chest rose sharply as she inhaled. Trembling hands squeezed the hat, and she looked at him through thick, lowered lashes. “I know.”

  Sweet innocence and remembered passion shone vividly in her coal black eyes. Thor’s pants became too tight. He shifted his leg to relieve the pressure. The move only served to inflame him further. This nineteenth-century playing field was dangerous, littered with explosive repercussions, but there was no way in hell, he would be without her tonight. Even if they did not make love, he wanted her near him. He had to keep her safe. He was her only protection.

  Palm up, he extended his hand. Her light touch seared him as her fingertips glided across his palm and grasped his hand. With his other hand, he placed the hat on her head. He adjusted the brim, covering her face so that only her kiss-swollen lips were viewable. They left.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lovemaking exhilarated Willow.

  The heat of bodies joining set her aflame. Her dear friend often hinted at the wonders of married life. Anders’s presence always put Eva in good spirits. The touch of his hand made her friend blush and her face glow with excitement. Laying beneath Thor with her nails digging into his perspiration slick backside, Willow understood the fervor of the bond between a man and a woman.

  The pace of Thor’s thrusts increased. His firm muscles contracted underneath her palms. The rapid strokes brought a low, tingling ache to her thighs, but the pleasure was worth the slight pain. His throbbing member pulsed inside her, sending her closer to the delirious heights of fulfillment. Another hard thrust jolted her straight to ecstasy. She soared through the ceiling high above the clouds and straight to heaven.

  “Blessed be!”

  Ragged breathing filled the silence as Willow slowly returned to earth. Peace and contentment enveloped them. He rolled onto his back and rose from the palate. The loss of his body heat made her shiver as cool air tickled her bare flesh. He pulled her to her feet and drew her into the bed with him, positioning her on top of him. His hands squeezed her bottom, holding her in place, and she shivered despite the warmth of his touch.

  “Cold?” Heavy lidded eyes pierced her and gleamed with satisfaction. He kissed the tip of her nose and didn’t wait for her response. Grabbing the crisp cotton sheet, he pulled it over them. “Is that better?”

  “It wasn’t bad before, but I imagine it wouldn’t be seemly to have my bare bottom high in the air without hide or hair of modesty.”

  His finger twirled a lock of black hair before brushing it against her cheek. “You’re modest enough,” he murmured. “I had a helluva time getting you into this room with me if I recall.”

  Their disagreement upon entering the guest room came to mind. Nervously, she chewed her bottom lip. “Are you sure Davis wasn’t upset when he saw us coming upstairs? I didn’t like the look on his face.”

  “I think it was customary for a guest to have his . . . um, servant—”

  “His slave. I do not like the word much, but that is what I am pretending to be. Your slave. You may as well call me such.”

  “We’re pretending when we have an audience,” he responded gruffly. “There’s only the two of us right now. You’re not my slave, and I wouldn’t want you to be.”

  “Not even in bed?”

  The whale-oil burning lamp cast a faint light over the room, but it wasn’t so dim that Willow couldn’t see Thor’s face darken. He stiffened and moved from under her. Concern swept through her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He sat up and put his back to her. She slid her hand across his muscled flesh. He flinched. His rejection stunned her. She dropped her hand. “Thor?”

  “I thought you knew me better than that,” he muttered.

  “Better than what?” She shrugged to hide her confusion. “I was teasing you.”

  “It’s not funny, Willow.” He abruptly stood. The bed creaked upon the loss of his weight. His fingers fumbled with the lantern, filling the room with light and then dimming the flame. “I wouldn’t force a woman into my
bed. I wouldn’t make her submit to me for any reason.”

  She slid across the bed and stood just behind him. The desire to run her hands over his hard back and broad shoulders was a strong temptation. Fear that he would flinch again compelled her to keep her hands at her sides. “I know you’re an honorable man.”

  “I don’t feel honorable,” he grunted. He stopped adjusting the lamp’s glow to face her. His mouth twisted, and his brow furrowed. He avoided her gaze and took her hands. “Making love with you was wrong.”

  “Why? Because of amalgamation?”

  “What?”

  “Because I’m not white and you are,” she explained. “Your honor has been compromised because you bedded me.”

  “My honor has been compromised because I let the wrong head guide me!” His features darkened with disgust. “I wanted you and seduced you even though I knew it was wrong. Hell, to make matters worse, I did it twice! The first time could be written off as plain stupidity, but this second time . . . That’s just recklessness that neither of us can afford, especially you.”

  “Why especially me?”

  He pressed his hand against the flat plane of her lower belly. “A life could be forming there as we speak. A helpless baby could be trapped in a cruel world.”

  “My baby wouldn’t be helpless. I would protect my child from this cruel world and teach it like the Browns taught me.” She jerked away from him and sat on the bed. “I would love my baby, and I wouldn’t expect anything from you.”

  “Well, you should, dammit!” He dropped onto the bed beside her.

  Her bottom lip trembled. Tears choked her voice. “If you d—didn’t want to raise the ch—child with me, I wouldn’t want you to . . .”

  “Willow.” He grasped her chin, turning her head to look at him. “I would want nothing more than to raise our child with you. I would move heaven and earth to do it. In fact…,If I knew how to return to the twentieth century, would you join me? I want to take you with me and not look back.”

  He wants me with him.

  Air lodged in her throat. Her heart swelled, and the tears dried. Endless possibilities swept through her mind. His view of the world filled her with hope for a better future. What if everyone was as open minded as him? How wonderful and perfect would a world like that be? Her thoughts returned to the present. Running away was not an option right now. She had obligations and a serious responsibility to reunite three homeless children with their father.