Clyde chuckled and scratched behind the ear of a hound pup he held cradled in his arm. “My missus? That’s pretty funny. And who might you be?” He looked her up and down lasciviously.
The man made Naomi’s skin crawl. There wasn’t a curse mean enough or harmful enough to cast on him. “Not your business who I am.” She set her hand on her hip. “Is Efia here or no?”
“Feisty one. I like ’em feisty!” Clyde drawled.
He took a step closer to her and Naomi sidestepped him. “Ya see that big man sittin’ on that horse in the shadows there?” Naomi asked.
Clyde peered around her.
“Wave to Clyde,” Naomi called to Noah.
Noah waved and Clyde took a step back. Obviously he’d not noticed Noah. “Fee! Get your lazy ass out here. Can’t ya see ya got a visitor?”
“What ya talkin’ about, Clyde? I thought ya wanted me to beat up them—” Efia stepped out of the shack onto the porch, wiping her hands on a filthy, tattered apron. Oddly enough, she appeared to be wearing a new gown. She halted midsentence.
The moment Efia stepped onto the porch, she knew why Naomi was there. Naomi also knew in the same moment that Efia had told the soldiers that Taye killed Grant.
“I need to speak to you,” Naomi said softly, her anger evident under her breath.
Efia’s gaze darted to Clyde. “This is women’s business. No need for ya to stand there and stare.”
“Women’s business? What kind of women’s business?” Clyde asked suspiciously from the doorway.
“Efia’s got a little problem with her bleedin’. Ya want me to whip ya up a potion, too?”
Clyde blanched and backed in through the door. “Don’t be takin’ long, Fee. I want my biscuits.”
Naomi waited for Clyde to disappear inside and then fixed her dark gaze on Efia. “What have ya done, girl?”
“I don’t know what yer talkin’ about.” Efia’s voice trembled. She was afraid of Naomi.
“Ya know jest what I’m talkin’ about, carryin’ tales to the law!” Naomi accused.
Efia shook her head frantically. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ about. Get off my porch.”
“Don’t know what I’m talkin’ about?” Naomi grabbed her bony wrist and fought the urge to shake some sense into her. “Ya didn’t see nothin’ that night. Ya didn’t even know the devil was dead till ya saw him go in the ground the next day.”
Efia pressed her full lips together. “I ain’t ’sposed to talk about it. They said I’m a ’fishal witness, and I ain’t to talk to none of ya.” There was a hint of defiance in her voice as she jerked her arm from Naomi’s grasp.
“Ya ought to be ashamed of yerself,” Naomi hissed. “Taye Campbell fed yer black ass and dragged ya over half the South then north to set ya free and this is how ya repay her?”
Efia’s lower lip trembled. “I know what I seen.”
Naomi scowled. “What did they give ya to tell this lie?” She looked at the dress. “Money? How much money is worth yer soul, girl?”
“Get away from here,” Efia challenged. “Ya come again and I’ll tell the sheriff. And don’t be think’ about puttin’ any spell on me, either!”
Naomi shook her head in disgust. “Spell?” she said softly, backing down the steps. “I ain’t throwin’ a spell at ya. I ain’t wastin’ good breath on ya, Efia, ’cause ya done dug yer own hole. No good comes of this kind of meanness.”
Naomi turned away and lifted her arm. Noah pulled her up behind him and they rode off, leaving Efia to stand on the sagging porch alone in the darkness.
Jackson tiptoed down the dark hallway. It was later than he had expected to be, and the entire household was quiet. He’d talked a long time with Thomas. Immediately jumping at the chance to defend Taye’s honor, Thomas had insisted that he, along with a team of the finest lawyers in the country, would defend her.
Thomas almost seemed relieved, not shocked or surprised, when Jackson revealed that Taye had left with Falcon. He had then told Jackson something that now weighed heavily on Jackson’s mind, on his heart.
Jackson stared at the closed bedchamber door. He had promised Cameron that when he came home he would tell her what Thomas had had to say, but right now, all he wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep with her in his arms. He knew that their lovemaking earlier this evening would not solve all their problems, but he hoped that it was enough balm to begin the healing process. If Cameron could just forgive him, perhaps they could repair the damage and begin anew.
He turned the glass doorknob and walked in to see a single lamp burning by the bed.
He smiled at the sight of Cameron asleep on her side, her father’s diary cradled in her arms. Her hair hung loose in waves of bright red light around her head, and she wore a thin sleeping gown that had slid up to reveal a good deal of one shapely thigh.
His smile turned to a frown when he noted the second sleeping form in the bed. Lacy.
He ground his teeth. He didn’t understand why Cameron couldn’t see that the girl was only trying to take advantage of her. She was no more Grant’s daughter than he was! Cameron was too softhearted, seeing this young girl as a lost colt, not the clever, opportunity-seeking chit that she was.
Knowing he couldn’t carry Lacy to her room without a commotion, Jackson gazed longingly at Cameron again. He needed so badly to lie beside her and hold her. But he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. He walked to the bedside and carefully removed the diary from his wife’s arms, setting it by the bed. Then he blew out the lamp and left the room in silence.
29
The following morning Cameron lay in bed for a few moments, drifting in that pleasant place between sleep and consciousness, where all the edges of life seem softer. She dreamily recalled the smell of the grass beneath her and the arch of the stable framing overhead, as she and Jackson had made love the previous evening. Remembering the touch of his fingertips on her skin, the taste of his mouth on hers, she smiled and stretched lazily.
As she opened her eyes, though, the reality of the previous night jolted her. The soldiers’ visit, Taye’s disappearance.
Cameron turned her head on the pillow, and her heart sank even further. It was not Jackson who lay beside her sleeping peacefully, as she had dreamed, but Lacy.
With a sigh, she rose. A thousand thoughts went through her head as she dressed in a simple pale-blue-and-yellow gown and swept her hair into a chignon low at the nape of her neck.
Perhaps Jackson was not even here. Perhaps he had stayed with Thomas, who was overwrought by the news of the charge against Taye. Or maybe the situation had changed during the night. What if Falcon and Taye had been caught trying to leave town?
Downstairs, Cameron found Jackson on the veranda, drinking coffee. He glanced over a newspaper when she stepped outside. He wore dark breeches and a starched white shirt, but no cravat or jacket. He looked younger than his forty-odd years, with his dark hair still damp from bathing and his chin freshly shaven.
Cameron inhaled the heavenly aroma of crepe myrtle blossoms as she stepped outside. The scent brought back memories of a lifetime, sweet and bittersweet. Perspiration prickled the skin on the back of her neck; it was going to be another hot Mississippi day.
“They say the Thirteenth Amendment, giving black men their freedom, will be passed by congress before Christmas,” Jackson said to her, turning the page of his newspaper. “And a fourteenth amendment will not be far behind that will make anyone born in this country a citizen no matter what the color of his skin.”
Jackson did not rise to kiss her good morning, and Cameron was immediately on edge.
Why hadn’t he joined her in the bed last night? If he had wanted to begin sleeping with her as man and wife again, wouldn’t he have come to her bedchamber? If he had really wanted to sleep with her, would a fourteen-year-old street urchin have stopped him? Once, a team of wild horses, a regiment of soldiers, an entire civil war would not have stopped him.
She slid into a chair acro
ss from him, not certain if she was angry or just hurt. She reached for the pressed linen napkin folded neatly in front of her. “President Lincoln would have been pleased.”
“That he would have.” Jackson turned another page.
Patsy appeared to pour her mistress’s coffee. “Captain says no breakfast for him, Miss Cameron. Says ain’t no one else here to make breakfast for, but you and the girl. You want me to tell the kitchen to get their skirts movin’?”
Cameron shook her head as she watched the dark coffee pour into her porcelain teacup. “Just some biscuits and jam, Patsy.”
“Yes, Miss Cameron.”
Cameron added sugar to her coffee and sipped it, glancing over the rim of the delicate cup at Jackson. “You saw Thomas last night?”
He nodded. “He wants to represent Taye. He believes a jury will be more likely to find her innocent if she is defended by her fiancé, a man they know from the county.” He reached for his own coffee cup, setting aside the newspaper. “He intends to contact colleagues today to build a team of lawyers.”
She lifted a brow. “So he thinks there is merit to this ridiculous accusation?”
“He is afraid that because Reconstruction is just beginning, the government will feel they must move cautiously with a case like this.” He hesitated. “Cam…the truth is, I’ve learned that there’s a price on Taye’s head. Five hundred dollars for the slave woman who killed her master—dead or alive.”
“That’s barbaric! Besides, my father set Sukey and Taye free years before he died.”
“I understand.”
“Grant was never Taye’s master.”
“I understand that, too.”
“But it’s so unfair to Taye. How could anyone—”
“Cameron,” Jackson interrupted, leaning forward on the table. “I’m not expressing my own opinion, but rather what an all-white Mississippi jury might say. What the Southern newspapers and conservative Republicans might say. For God’s sake, I don’t hold this against Taye. Grant tried to auction her virginity in a whorehouse. It’s difficult to see why she didn’t murder him sooner.”
“That’s not how it happened,” she retorted hotly. “She would never have shot him if he had not been shooting at me. And now you tell me her life is in danger for that?”
“Cam, it’s silly to argue over this when you and I are on the same side. We both know damned well that this was a form of self-defense because Taye was defending you. All I’m saying is that we must proceed cautiously because a jury might not see it that way right now.”
“How is a jury to say what happened?” she demanded. “No one was actually there but Taye and me.”
“No one but you and Taye, and Naomi and Efia and Dorcas. You forgot the sisters.”
She glanced up, fighting to regain her composure. “I didn’t, but the girls weren’t actually there. They couldn’t possibly have seen anything. Naomi went to see Efia last night, anyway.”
“I have already spoken to Naomi this morning. You two were correct in your guess. Efia wouldn’t really say anything, but Naomi is certain she is the one who went to Captain Grey.”
“Why?” Cameron demanded. “Why would she do such a thing to Taye? You know what we all did for those two girls.” She shook her head, thinking back to the weeks they had spent together. At that time, nothing they had said or done indicated Efia would ever turn on Taye this way. On them.
“We don’t know why. But the South is crawling with desperate men and women who would kill their own sister for that much hard money. We’ve got to find Taye and Falcon before anyone else does.”
“Falcon will protect her.”
“With his life, but he’s only one man. If we don’t straighten this out, Taye could spend the rest of her life running. We have to find them. But we need to be cautious. We don’t know what kind of case Thomas intends to build. We wouldn’t want to hinder his efforts.”
“We have to go looking for her today.”
Jackson shook his head.
“Why not? Fleeing only makes Taye look guiltier in the eyes of the law,” Cameron said. “And now, if she’s in danger of being murdered, we have to—”
“I want to give Thomas time to gather his thoughts and come up with a plan.”
“And what if we do find her? Do we bring her back to face trial? Who’s to say something terrible won’t happen to her here?”
Jackson’s face hardened. “If and when we find her, I’ll take care of her. I promise you that much.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something. This is what I do, Cam. What I’ve been trained for. One way or another, we’ll keep her safe.” He paused. “I have a pretty good idea where they’ve gone.”
“You do?” Her gazed flickered to his. “Where?”
“The fewer who know, the better off everyone will be. Once we come up with a plan, I’ll go and fetch her.”
“You won’t go without me?”
The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry grin reminiscent of their first years together. “I have a feeling I could try, but I doubt I would be successful.”
She dared a half smile, and for a moment, just the briefest moment, she felt a spark leap between them. For just that instant, she seemed to be on familiar ground with the man she had once loved more than life itself.
Jackson pushed away from the table and the moment was gone, just that quickly. “There’s something else I need to tell you. It’s important that you keep it to yourself, but I told Thomas I would speak for him.”
Her brows knitted. “Whatever are you talking about?” She felt a tightening in her chest. Had he and Taye broken off their engagement? She had known something was going on. Why hadn’t either of them told her?
“Thomas is dying,” he said flatly.
“What?”
“He’s dying.”
“How—”
He raised a hand to silence her. “I think he has known for some time. He’s tried several medical treatments, but none have been successful. I imagine he has been denying the truth for weeks, perhaps months.”
Cameron could only stare in disbelief. Thomas Burl, dying? It seemed impossible. He was still such a young man, younger than Jackson. He had been in her life for so many years, steady, dependable. Because of his relationship with her father, she had always known he would be there for her. And now he would not be.
“Consumption,” Jackson finished softly.
A chill passed through Cameron as she met his compassionate gaze. She thought of Thomas’s coughing fits. Of how thin he had become. How could she have been so blind? She had even asked recently if he had seen the apothecary. But Thomas had insisted he was just working too hard. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that he might be seriously ill?
The answer came swift and sure from deep inside her.
For the same reason you couldn’t see that Taye no longer loved Thomas.
“No.” Cameron willed herself not to listen. She gripped the handle of the delicate china cup. She stammered, trying to recover her composure. “D-does Taye know about Thomas?”
Once, Taye had told Cameron everything. But since Taye had joined her in Baltimore, she knew there had been secrets between them.
Because you stopped thinking about her happiness, Cameron’s inner voice accused harshly. All you could think about was yourself. More than Taye, more than Jackson—even more than your own baby. You had to have your way.
“She does not know, and Thomas has asked that we not tell her.”
“Surely she has to be told!”
“He wants to tell her himself.” He rose from his chair. “He has that right. And he has the right to decide when he will tell her.”
Cameron stared at the wide painted boards of the veranda flooring. She felt guilty for not having been more perceptive. She felt guilty for being so wrapped up in her own troubles that she had missed the signs of Thomas’s illness. But she’d never intentionally hurt Taye. She loved her. “Ma
ybe that’s what has been wrong between Taye and Thomas,” Cameron said. “I know Taye felt he was not giving her the attention she expected. Perhaps his illness is why he moved home.” She looked up. “He knew, but he didn’t know how to tell her.”
Jackson walked around the table. “I think he was hoping he was wrong. You cannot blame a man for that.” He rested his hand on Cameron’s shoulder.
She closed her eyes, welcoming his touch. “Could I speak to him?” she murmured.
“Not yet. Give him a few days. He was pretty upset. I don’t think he’d told a living soul about the consumption, and now this thing with Taye has happened.”
He removed his hand from her shoulder and she opened her eyes, the spell broken.
“So I just have to sit here and do nothing while the state builds a case against my sister for murdering our brother?”
“I’ll be home this evening.” He walked into the house, leaving her on the veranda.
She couldn’t bear to watch him go.
A week later, Jackson halted in front of the bank on his way inside. He offered his hand to a man he had known from the war. Both being in the shipping business, his and Antoine Gallier’s paths had crossed several times. Jackson knew he was here in town because Thomas was working on some legal documents for him. In the commotion of Taye’s charge of murder, and Jackson’s overnight trip to investigate a lead on Thompson’s Raiders, however, he had not had a chance to see his old friend. “Antoine, good to see you.”
“And you.” Mr. Gallier tipped his hat and clasped Jackson’s hand warmly. “I must thank you for sending me to Monsieur Thomas. He has been most helpful. He is quite knowledgeable about the intricacies of international shipping.”
“I’m glad he could be of aid to you. I told you Thomas would not disappoint. Are you in town long? My wife and I would be pleased to have you join us for supper one evening.”
“I am here until week’s end, then on to New Orleans before I return home to Baton Rouge.”
“What about tonight, then?”
“Merci, Jackson. You are too kind. You must know how dreary dining alone can be when one must travel so often.”
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