by Naomi Finley
“Now don’t you go getting any ideas,” Ben said.
“But I—”
“No. I won’t hear of it. You and Whitney stay out of my affairs.” He gripped my shoulder and glowered. “I won’t soon forget the last catastrophe of a certain Miss Eva, which the pair of you thought was a brilliant idea.”
“So we were wrong.” I jutted my chin out. “We are more experienced now.”
Bowden chuckled. “If the women have their way, you’ll be walking across that lawn out there to wed this Miss…” He glanced at me with a sudden blank stare.
“Pippa.”
Ben raised a brow. “Willow, I’m warning you. I have my hands full with patients. I have no time for a woman in my life.”
As you say, I thought, while I envisioned him dressed in his Sunday best next to a glowing bride.
I closed the distance between us and linked my arm with his before holding out my other to Bowden. Once I stood between the men, I guided them back into the house. “One should make time for a companion in life.”
“Says the one that I had to sling over my shoulder to marry me.” Bowden threw back his head and chuckled.
“And she thinks she will have a say on who or if I marry,” Ben said over my head to my husband.
In the foyer, we stopped, and I released my escorts. “I don’t mean to pry.” Both men lifted a brow and shared a united look that said “Sure.” I scowled and folded my arms across my chest. “I just want you happy.”
Ben stepped forward and kissed my forehead. “I am. Now if you two will excuse me, I think I’ll retire for the evening. I need to research a procedure I haven’t done in years before Mr. Caldwell arrives tomorrow.”
I stood staring after him until Bowden scooped me off my feet, stealing my breath. He grinned as he strode toward the steps with me, a rag doll in his arms. “All right, Mrs. Armstrong, enough of your prying for today.”
I laid a hand on his chest as he climbed the stairs. “It’s hardly prying when it comes with good intention. I want him to have the same happiness we do.”
“And if someone had tried to pick a husband for you, you would have welcomed it with open arms?”
I recalled Father’s attempt to arrange a marriage between Kipling and me. “Well, I…” I lightly thumped his chest with my palm. “That isn’t the same.”
He nodded as if to say, “If you say so.” And the glimmer of amusement in his eyes agitated me all the more.
THE MORNING THE COMMOTION BROKE out in the work yard, Bowden sat on the back veranda engaged in a conversation with Magnus Barlow. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen house, observing the men while cutting off pieces of apple and placing them in my mouth.
“What you spying on dose menfolkses for?” Mammy added another log to the fire.
I ignored her question and countered with one of my own. “What are your thoughts on the younger Mr. Barlow?”
“Can’t get a read of a fellow from a few dinners. But I can’t help but notice how he eye my gal when she ’round. Et doesn’t sit well wid me at all.” She came to stand beside me to get a look at the fellow in question.
“It would do her well to have a fine gentleman like him show interest in her. Who knows, perhaps he would be a good suitor for her.” I munched a slice of apple.
“Oh, hush, now.” She narrowed her eyes. “No white man luk at a mulatto ’oman any different dan he does a hog. Dat is unless he luking to lay wid her, and dere ain’t no man ever gonna touch my gal widout my say-so.” Her lips compressed, and her face hardened.
“But look how Papa cared for Isabella, how he provided for and loved Callie. And look at Mr. Barlow, he wed a mulatto.”
Mammy snorted, marched to the table, and turned out the biscuit dough onto the floured surface. “My gal and Mr. Barlow? Now I know you crazy. De whole world done gone crazy.” She muttered a few inaudible words and thumped the biscuit dough harder, mashing it with the heels of her palms.
Unsure what had prompted her tangent, I turned back to watching the men.
“Ain’t et a mite easier to sink your teeth into de thing?” Mammy said as I popped another slice into my mouth.
“How you choose to eat your apples is up to you,” I said with more sass than sensibility. She’d stormed down to the kitchen house soon after Magnus’s arrival, and everyone in her path had hurried to clear out. “What has gotten into you today?” I glanced back at her.
She stopped attacking the dough and looked up, then something in the distance caught her attention, and her lips pinched. “See dere?” She waved a hand and strode toward me while wiping her floured hands on her apron.
I turned to observe what had her wound tight. Mary Grace had stepped out onto the back veranda, and Magnus now stood. Oh… It dawned on me what had gotten up under Mammy’s head rag.
“I understand he be a gentleman and all, but I ain’t luking for him to go hurting my gal. She jus’ gitting back to her old self after losing Gray. I won’t have et, I tell ya.”
“And it has nothing to do with your concern that he has also caught her attention?”
Mammy gave me a sour look and returned to the table to beat her frustration into the dough.
“You best take it easy on that dough, or those biscuits won’t be fit to eat.” I strode to a shelf and retrieved a cast iron frying pan and set it on the table beside her. I scooped a tablespoon of lard into the pan before walking to the fireplace to stoke the coals.
“Stop! Let him go.” Kimie’s wails reached us.
I straightened, and Mammy and I gawked at each other before bolting for the door.
“Dat Miss Kimie?” Mammy stood wide-eyed, scanning the grounds for Whitney’s sister.
“I think so.” I stepped out of the kitchen house. “I’d best go and see what the matter is.”
I hurried in the direction of the cries and soon spotted Jack Barry straddled over someone on the ground, laying the punches to them. A crowd had gathered, and Parker’s father, Owen, stood over the wrestling figures.
“Come now, Masa Jack, let him be,” Owen pleaded, panic in his voice.
Kimie, her face tear-stained, caught sight of me and rushed forward. “Please, you must stop him.” She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the men.
As I drew closer, I saw the man pinned beneath the lean figure of Kimie’s twin. Parker lay with his arms up, trying his best to shield himself from the blows of Jack’s fists. “I’ll teach you for ever touching my sister,” he said between heavy breaths.
“Enough!” I grabbed Jack’s collar and dodged his fist as he swung at me.
Recognition reflected in his eyes, and he blanched. “Excuse me, Mrs. Armstrong, I’m right sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
My chest heaved. “Get off of him, or I’ll have you removed from the property.”
Jack obeyed while keeping his gaze locked on Parker. “Damn fool forgets he’s a Negro.”
“He did nothing wrong!” Kimie dropped to her knees beside Parker and started dusting him off. He pulled away and grabbed the cane Owen held out for him. Eyes flashing at Jack, he pulled to his feet.
“What is the meaning of this?” I crossed my arms and glared up at Jack.
He glared at Parker. “I caught him kissing Kimie behind the stables. I’m not for slavery any more than the rest of you, but I’m also not about to stand by and let no darkie kiss my sister. They need to stick with their own kind.”
Parker used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. One glance at him and anyone would know he could have taken Jack if he had wanted to, regardless of his disability. But because it was illegal to hit a white man, Parker had contained himself, a tribute to his self-control. The pride that thumped in my chest for the young man was overshadowed by the disappointment I felt over Jack’s behavior. I clenched my teeth and looked back at Jack. “And you couldn’t think of a better way to deal with your frustration than to resort to violence?”
“Figured I would handle it man to man.”
Jack stretched to his full height.
“Violence is never the answer. You’d think you’d understand this more than others.”
My remark had the intended result. Jack winced at my reminder. “I’m not him.” He rocked onto his toes. “I’ll never be him! But Parker deserved what he got. And if I ever see him lay his hands or lips on Kimie again, I’ll beat him good.” He leveled a glare at Parker before bending to retrieve his hat on the ground. He slapped it on his leg to remove the dust and turned back to me. Regret flickered in his eyes and he opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and whirled and stomped off in the direction of the stables.
Bowden pushed through the crowd that had gathered. “All right, folks, back to your duties.”
As people broke away, mumbling amongst themselves, Bowden looked to Parker, who blinked through the blood dripping from the gash over his brow. “You all right? Anything broke?”
“Jus’ my pretty face,” Parker said with a grin, trying to shuffle off his rage in front of Bowden, but I knew him better than that.
“Bowden, do you mind if I speak to Parker?”
Bowden gestured with a hand and inclined his head.
“Come,” I said.
Parker walked with me, and as we broke away from the others, his amiability slipped, and his jaw locked.
“Jack was wrong in what he did.”
“Is he? What is wrong is dat I’m a man jus’ lak him, and I have to lay dere and take dat beating widout defending myself.”
I winced. “I know—”
“No, you don’t!” His chest heaved. “You never gonna know what et feels lak to be in dis skin. Never.” The composure he’d presented to Bowden dissolved, and vulnerability surfaced.
“Parker.” I stopped. “Listen.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes, but he twisted to look out over the fields.
“Et ain’t right. He humiliated me in front of de whole plantation…in front of Kimie.”
My heart grieved for him and his wounded pride. No man wanted to look vulnerable or be embarrassed in front of a woman. “You have every cause to be mad.” I touched his arm.
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye but refused to turn his head.
“You really love her, don’t you?” I said.
“What does et matter? She white and I a darkie. Her brother will never accept et. And Mr. Knox most lakly come over here and lay another beatin’ on me once Jack runs off to tell him. And I could take Jack, but her pappy is bigger dan de two of us put together.”
“Bowden will speak to them both on the matter.”
“Ain’t no use.” Parker looked at me and his face softened somewhat. “But I appreciate you none de less.”
I forced a smile. “Head on down and get Ben to stitch you up.”
“Yessum.” He turned and hobbled off.
Kimie stood eyeing Parker, yearning for him to look at her, but he walked on past without a word. She burst into tears.
Bowden gawked from Parker to Kimie before his eyes sought me. He shrugged awkwardly.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” I mumbled and went to his aid. “Kimie,” I touched her elbow, “I’d like to speak to you.”
She dropped her hands from her face. Misery gleamed in her blue eyes.
“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” I said.
“You aren’t cross with Parker and me, are you? Because this was Jack’s doing.”
“No, of course not.” I steered her toward the path leading around the pond.
“Then what is it?”
“I’m concerned about the open show of affection between you and Parker. The world doesn’t embrace romantic feelings between a white and a black. If the wrong person were to see you and Parker together, he could be dangling at the end of a rope.” The love affair between Josephine and Jethro, and her father’s rage, came to mind. Whitney and Knox could try as they might, but Jack was a young man now and they couldn’t control his actions.
“But we love each other and want to be together,” Kimie said.
“Are you aware of the sacrifice your love would entail? The union between a white and a black would mean a life of prejudice and hardship.”
I’d seen it coming for years now, the way Kimie would come to Livingston after she’d received news that Parker had returned from the sea. She’d run off to the quarters after a quick greeting. I reckon I’d assumed she would outgrow the affections that had flourished since she was a child. But now she was a woman in all ways, with eyes only for Parker. She’d caught the eye of Wyatt Harris, the son of a banker from Charleston. If he were to catch word, or worse yet, see the couple locked in a passionate embrace, a posse would come to Livingston looking for blood.
“I don’t care what people think. I love him, and he loves me.” She stomped her foot.
Most days, I would consider Kimie the embodiment of pleasantness. And where Whitney was tall, brazen, and intolerant of most people, Kimie was petite, polite, and found solace and commonality amongst the quarter folks. The sisters, although opposites in many ways, had the same resilience and fierceness. The stubborn glint Kimie had in her eye matched the one Whitney would get if something weren’t to her liking.
“One can’t help but love who their hearts tell them, but for your sake and Parker’s, you must use discretion.”
“Jack thinks he can tell me who to love. He needs to scamper off and leave me be. He’s always thought he could boss me around, but not anymore. I’m grown, and I won’t allow it. Some days I can’t wait until he goes off to Mount Royal. Then I can think for myself without his nattering in my ear.”
“Jack can be difficult, but he’s looking out for you like the rest of us.”
“I know you all mean well, but this is my life. And I need to live it my way. Parker and I will face what comes our way.”
The innocence of her love for Parker tugged at my heart. I stopped and gripped her shoulders. “I don’t fault you for love. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, it’s just…” Her eyes welled with tears. “It is unfair. What does it matter if my skin is white and his is black? When two people love each other, isn’t that all that should matter?”
I choked back the emotions catching in my throat. In a perfect world, yes.
“I love him so much it hurts my very soul.” Misery shone in her face. “What harm are we causing?”
“You aren’t. All your frustrations are reasonable, but the path you’re on is dangerous. I wish it weren’t true, but it is.” I hugged her, and she laid her face against my shoulder and wept.
“I just want to be with him.”
“I know.” I stroked her back.
She sniffled and stepped back, wiping her tears. “Whitney says I shouldn’t worry about love and marriage and to invest my time and heart in nursing.”
“Hogwash! Don’t listen to a word your sister says. Except the nursing part.” I smiled. “You’re a brilliant nurse. Ben says you’re a quick study and an excellent assistant.”
“Truly?” Her eyes brightened with hope. “He has been the most excellent teacher. He even lets me take the lead sometimes. Whitney says I spend more time with him and in the quarters than I do at home. ‘Why don’t you marry Ben?’ she had the nerve to say one day. Can you imagine?” She snorted. “I admire and respect him, but marry him? Why, he is old enough to be my father.”
“Much too old for you. Besides, I have my eye on a certain someone for him.” I winked.
“Really? Do tell.” She grabbed my hands with enthusiasm.
“All right,” I said with the hope of easing the melancholy in her heart. “But you must promise it’ll be our secret. Because if Bowden or Ben find out that I’m still meddling in Ben’s affairs, they won’t be the least bit happy with me.”
Kimie giggled, then said, “I won’t tell a soul.”
WHILE IN CHARLESTON ONE NOVEMBER afternoon, I walked down to the harbor to visit Bowden at the office. Through the windowpane of the closed door,
I saw him and Captain Gillies with their heads together in deep conversation. When I knocked on the door, they pulled apart and swung to look at me.
Bowden’s face lacked warmth at the sight of me, and a pang of disappointment snagged my heart. He waved to grant entry and urged me to close the door before going back to talking in hushed tones to the captain. I stood awkwardly waiting, straining to eavesdrop on their conversation to no avail.
After a moment or two, the men straightened and turned to me.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Bowden regarded me as though his mind remained preoccupied.
“The Barlows required some supplies, and Callie asked me to come along. While they’re running errands, I thought perhaps a husband could spare a few minutes for his wife,” I said hopefully.
As I’d walked to the pier, the fantasy of him gathering me into his arms and kissing me passionately had captured my thoughts. I missed him terribly. Weeks had passed since he’d left on business in Maryland, only to return and become occupied with demands at the pier. He’d sent word that he’d returned, but obligations at the dock required his attention, and he’d be staying at the townhouse in Charleston until he could get away.
“I’m sorry, but not today. The captain and I have important matters to attend to,” Bowden said.
I feigned a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Captain.”
He inclined his head. “And you, Mrs. Armstrong.”
I quelled the disappointment at the lukewarm welcome and focused on the men’s hushed conversation, curious. “I didn’t mean to impose. However, seeing—”
“As you’re here, you’d like to know what we were talking about.” Bowden shook his head, with a trace of a smile pulling at his mouth.
The captain stifled a chuckle, and Bowden sent him a look of bewilderment. Captain Gillies’s laughter erupted, and he looked at me with fondness before turning to clap my husband on the shoulder. “If you thought you were marrying a lass without a mind of her own, you thought wrong.” His face red with merriment, he winked at me on the way to the door. “Good day, Mrs. Armstrong.”