The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2

by Patricia Hagan

  “I want to wait to thank the general,” Kitty said, pushing the money into the little bag the sergeant handed to her. “He was so nice to rush this through.”

  “Hey, don’t do that,” Jesse said quickly—too quickly, for she gave him a puzzled look. Forcing a smile, he said, “I sort of went around regular channels, you know? Some friends owed me favors, and I put the squeeze on them to rush things up. The general might not like it. I mean, he’s real strict when it comes to following standards and procedures, you understand, Miss Kitty? I’ll tell him in a week or so that things are straightened out, but if he found out right now that I’d gotten it all taken care of so quick, he’d ask a lot of questions. Me and my friends could wind up in trouble. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  “Oh, no, no, dear me, no.” She shook her head from side to side. “I’ll take this right over to the bank, and I won’t say a word to anyone. I will pay my taxes, though. Oh, thank you, Sergeant. Thank you so much.” He blushed guiltily as she ran around the desk to kiss his cheek. Then, her bag of money held tightly against her bosom, she hurried out of the office.

  Jacob was outside, standing beside the old wagon. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him happily. “Jacob, do you see this bag?” She swung it under his nose.

  “There’s over a thousand dollars in here. A thousand Yankee dollars. I’m going to go pay my taxes, and then you and I are going to go buy some lumber, and we’re going to start at once to build on Poppa’s land. We’ll buy seeds, plant a crop, build shelter for you and your people. Oh, Jacob, Jacob, I knew our prayers would be answered. We’re going to make it. I know we are.”

  She swirled around and around beside him, face lifted to the hot July sun. She danced until she was dizzy, laughing as the old Negro righted her on her feet. “Oh, let’s hurry and get started, Jacob. I’m going to sleep on my own land tonight, on the ground. My ground. And we’re going to have food, real food. Tomorrow we plant corn and potatoes, and we’ll even buy some chickens and a cow. Jacob, Jacob, God is good! Life is good!”

  Grinning, Jacob followed her to the tax collector’s office where she paid the delinquent taxes and then waved her receipt in the air happily. The collector frowned. He was a Yankee, brought in to take over the job, and Kitty could tell he hated to see a Southerner able to keep his land. She even waved the receipt under his nose, just as she had the precious Yankee money. Then, with Jacob still beside her, she danced out of the office and onto the street.

  They went to a feed store and bought items to get their garden planted. Then Kitty went to buy staples—flour, sugar, coffee. She even bought material to make a few new dresses to replace the muslin once she wore in tatters. Once this was done, they went together to buy lumber, demanding it be delivered out to the Wright land that very afternoon.

  As they were walking back toward the wagon, Kitty stopped suddenly and said, “Jacob, you wait for me. I want to get some more cloth. I want to start making baby things.”

  “Miss Kitty, where you gonna put all this stuff?” Jacob asked worriedly, looking ahead to the loaded wagon. “You said you wants to sleep on yo’ land tonight, and what if it rains? This stuff gonna get ruint. Why don’t you wait befo’ you buys anythin’ else?”

  “I want to have something for my baby,” she said stubbornly. “Now you just go ahead and wait in the wagon for me. I won’t be long.”

  Kitty turned and started back to the store. She had not gone far when Corey McRae stepped out to block her path. He seemed to come from nowhere. Yet she had the feeling that he had been nearby, watching her every move. Her eyes raked over him coolly. He was dandily dressed, as usual, this time in a suit of blue, and he stood smiling down at her, tipping his flat straw hat. “Morning to you, Miss Wright. It seems you are busy today. I watched your nigra loading your wagon. Suddenly you are a lady of means.”

  “It is none of your concern,” she said angrily, sidestepping to move around him, but he quickly moved to position himself directly in front of her. She sighed. “Will you please let me pass? We have nothing to say to each other.”

  “Oh, yes, we do, Miss Wright. I want to apologize to you for any inconvenience or stress I may have caused you in the past. I was totally in error, and I would like to have your hand in friendship.”

  She cocked her head sideways, eyeing him suspiciously. “Just what are you up to, Corey McRae? I have made it quite clear that I want nothing to do with you.”

  “As I said”—he bowed graciously, sweeping his hat from his head and smiling—“I want to apologize. I understand you have paid your delinquent taxes and plan to rebuild on your land. Since we are to be neighbors, I think it would be nice if we were at least civil to each other. You are going to need help in getting a new start, and I have men, and supplies—”

  “And so do I,” she snapped, cutting him off. “I do not need your help. As for being neighbors, you will live far enough from me that I doubt we will be running into each other. Now, I do have errands to tend to.”

  “Ahh, Kitty, Kitty.” He rolled his eyes upward, sighing with mock exasperation. “What am I to do with you? Never have I met such an obstinate woman. I offered you marriage and respectability, which you indignantly refused. Now I offer you neighborly help and friendship, and this you refuse also. What do you want of me?”

  Her eyes widened incredulously. “Are you deaf, sir? I ask merely that you leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

  He laughed. “Do you think I can leave such a beautiful woman alone? No, I have realized that I went about my pursuit of you in the wrong way, my lovely. I tried to force my attentions upon you, but you are obviously the sort who must be wooed and courted. This I plan to do. It causes me no distress to know that you are unwed and expecting a child. I find you extremely desirable, and I still intend to marry you one day.”

  “And I find you mad! Now, sir, if you do not let me pass… She was reaching into the pocket of her skirt once again, feeling for the pistol she carried there.

  He held his hands up in a helpless gesture. “Please! No guns today, milady. I give up. But only for the moment. I will still pursue you until you give me your hand.”

  Kitty pushed against his chest with both her hands, catching him off guard. He stumbled backward and she was able to start by him. His hands moved quickly, however, and his fingers tightened about her wrists. Leaning very close to her upturned, angry face, he whispered harshly, “Kitty Wright, heed me well. The day will come when you will see the wisdom of the life I am offering you. I have made it my business to find out all about you, and I know that your Captain Coltrane left town very angry because you would not go with him. He does not want to live in Wayne County. He does not understand what your father’s land means to you. I do understand. I understand much about you and the high spirit that makes you the desirable, passionate woman you are. And I shall have you. There has never been anything in this life that I could not have once I set my mind to it. And I shall have you. On this, I swear my life.”

  Kitty’s lips parted, but just then a high-pitched voice cried, “Just what do you think you are doing, Kitty Wright? Do you dare to throw yourself at men in broad daylight on a public street? I should think your kind would know your place and roam the shadows of night to sell your wares.”

  Nancy Warren Stoner stood there, her face a mask of anger. She was wearing a bright yellow gingham gown. A matching parasol shaded her from the relentless sun. She tapped a foot as she looked at Corey petulantly. “You were going to take me to lunch at the hotel, remember? Must you embarrass me by conversing with this…this slut in public? I know how she throws herself at men, but—”

  “Nancy, you are pushing me too far!” Kitty straightened as Corey’s fingers fell from her wrists. “I will not stand for you calling me names. I have no quarrel with you. I want only peace.”

  “Peace!” Nancy spat out the word, eyes narrowed to evil slits. “You talk of peace? You, who are responsible for Nathan moldering in his grav
e. You are a traitor to the South, and you should be tarred and feathered and run out of town. You are just as sorry and no account as that no-good daddy of yours.”

  That did it. Kitty grabbed Nancy by the shoulders and sent her sprawling from the boardwalk into the horse watering trough where she landed with a loud splash. As she floundered helplessly, hair and dress drenching in the sour water, screaming indignantly, Kitty leaned over and stared down at her, hands on her hips. “I told you, Nancy. You push me too far. Next time I will mash that hateful, arrogant face of yours right into the mud where it belongs. I have as much right to live in this town as anyone here. And I intend to do so, without being harassed.”

  “Corey, Corey, don’t just stand there,” Nancy was screeching as people gathered to stare. They laughed, despite their feelings against Kitty. It was a sight!

  “Corey, get me out of here.”

  Corey, trying to keep from bursting into laughter himself, was reaching for her as Kitty turned back toward the wagon. There would be no joy now in shopping for the baby. That would have to come another time. Oh, she hated it when she lost her temper that way.

  Kitty’s pace slowed as she saw the Negroes gathered around the wagon, saw Jacob’s frightened eyes, his slack jaw and quivering lips. She hitched up her skirts and broke into a run, reaching the gathering to elbow her way into the group. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Jacob, why do you look so terrified?”

  Finally a stoop-shouldered man in rags, his hair the color of snow, said in a faltering voice, “Missy, there’s been a heap of trouble. A bunch of colored boys stole some horses last night…stole some other stuff, too…guns.…food…”

  Now others began to talk excitedly. “The townspeople are plenty mad. They went to General Schofield this mornin’ and said they wanted them niggers hung.”

  “Somebody said old Jed Wesley got shot at.”

  “They say the vigilantes gonna ride.”

  “Somebody gonna kill them niggers, and it’s gonna mean bad trouble for us all.”

  “Yeah. White folks, they might start shooting any colored man, just out of meanness.”

  Kitty bit her lip angrily. Gideon and his band had done what they set out to do. She saw the tears of fright welling in Jacob’s eyes. “Let’s go,” she whispered, touching his arm. “There’s nothing we can do now. It’s out of our hands.”

  Just then two soldiers walked up, hands on their side arms, and one of them commanded, “All right, let’s break this up. There’s been enough gossip making the rounds this morning without darkies congregating.”

  The other snapped, “The white people are in a rage over last night’s raids. It would be wise for you to stay off the streets.” His eyes swept over Kitty. “And what are you doing in the middle of all this, miss?”

  She didn’t like the contempt in his voice, and she was exhausted from her shopping, her encounter with Corey and her scrap with Nancy. She looked at the soldier wearily and said, “None of your damn business, soldier. Now get out of my way.”

  He stepped back, astounded, as Jacob helped her up to the wagon. He followed quickly, and, with a pop of the reins, the old mules began to take them out of town. “I know it was Gideon, and so do you,” Jacob said as soon as they reached the outskirts and turned toward the river. “He gonna get hisself killed. I know he is. He ain’t gonna stop with just stealin’ food and blankets, like he said. He gonna run wild. You wait and see. And the rest of us, me and my people, we the ones what gonna pay for it.”

  “Not if you mind your own business and obey the law,” Kitty said in her firmest voice. “Now, Jacob, don’t you worry. You tried, Nolie tried. So did I. Gideon wouldn’t listen, and neither would those who went with him. So now they are going to have to suffer the consequences. There is nothing more we can do for them. Except pray.”

  “Gideon always was rebellious. He hated bein’ a slave. He never got over his sister being raped by whites. I wasn’t s’prised a’tall when he run away to join the Yankees. And I ain’t s’prised he’s come back to make trouble now.”

  “The whole Southland is in a turmoil.” Kitty tried to comfort him, though she could tell by the expression on his face that her words were of little solace. “I heard talk today when I was in the stores how the Negroes are causing trouble all over. Vigilantes are doing what the Federal troops won’t do—and that’s ride out and shoot them. It seems the Negroes are glad for the chance to punish the white man for all their years of slavery, and the whites are eager to fight back, angry because they can no longer hold the black people slaves. I don’t think the winds of peace are ever going to blow across our land, Jacob, not in our lifetime anyway. But just try to remember that it isn’t by your hand, or mine, that any of this is happening. We have to find some comfort in that.”

  “Yes’m.” He nodded, a little more relaxed. “I knows I got lots to be thankful for. Your pappy freed me and mine a long time ago, and he still let us live on his land, paid us when he could. Saw to it we never went hungry. We always had wood to bum in the winter. If we got sick, you or Doc Musgrave took care of us. We always loved you and Mastah John fo’ yo’ goodness, and I’m proud to be able to try and pay you back now, by helpin’ you when nobody else will.”

  “We won’t tell them about the news,” Kitty said to Jacob as they approached the swamps. “They’ll hear soon enough. Let’s let them rejoice in our good fortune, knowing that we do have a real home now.”

  “I think yo’ right.” Jacob nodded. “Like you say, they find out soon enuff. No need in me a’breakin’ Nolie’s heart. Look at her. Standin’ to one side, away from the others, wringing her hands and a’cryin’. I know what she’s a’doin. She’s prayin’ I don’t have no bad news, and God forgive me, but I gonna lie and say I didn’t hear one word.”

  They got down out of the wagon, but none of those gathered around made a move to come forward. “Hey, what’s wrong with everyone?” Kitty called out merrily, moving to the back of the wagon. “Come and see what we have. Food. Supplies. Lumber is being delivered to my land this afternoon. Tonight we feast and celebrate, and tomorrow we start building and planting crops. I even bought a cow and some chickens…”

  Her voice trailed off as she realized that no one was paying her any mind. Nolie stepped forward, tears pouring from her veined, puffy eyes.

  “Jacob.” It was a moan, deep in her throat. Her hands covered her chest as she swayed. Someone steadied her.

  “Nolie, what’s wrong with you?” Jacob was hurrying toward her. “What you tryin’ to tell me, sistah?”

  Her eyes rolled back and she clasped her hands together in prayer. “Oh, Lordy, Jacob, it’s happened. Gideon come back. He come back with horses and guns.”

  He grabbed her, shook her gently, crying himself. “Nolie, I heard about it in town, me and Miss Kitty. We weren’t gonna tell you. We didn’t want to worry you. We can’t do nothin’. Gideon is in a heap of trouble, but it’s his own doin’. We can’t help him now. We got to think of ourselves, and the new life Miss Kitty is a’offerin’ us. Get hold of yo’self now. God will look after Gideon, make him come to his senses. We pray for him. We get down on our knees now, and we’ll pray.”

  He looked about at the others, gestured to them to get to their knees as he got to his. No one moved. He looked up into Nolie’s face, and, with an anguished cry, she fell to her knees and clasped her big arms around him. “Oh, Lordy, Jacob. Gideon took Luther with him. He said he’d kill anybody who tried to stop him. And Luther wanted to go. He’s gone, Jacob. They both gone. Yo’ boy and mine.”

  And the two old Negroes wept, arms about each other. One by one, the others got on their knees, their bodies swaying. They prayed out loud for the deliverance of Gideon and Luther and all the others who rode with them.

  Kitty bit her lip and turned away from the scene. She would not cry. Crying would not help. Crying made for weakness. Only the strong would survive these times.

  She began to walk across the barren fields, head he
ld high, the wind blowing her hair about her upturned face. And she kept on walking, till the weeping and wailing of the Negroes was only a distant echo.

  Chapter Thirteen

  July melted into August, and September crept across the lands to cool the air. The late crop had been abundant. The new barn held much corn and hay. Two cows gave milk. A calf was flattening. There would be meat for the winter.

  The house Jacob and the Negroes had built for Kitty on the site of the old one was small but adequate. The furnishings were sparse. Frayed blankets covered the windows. The bed was roughhewn and had a worn, lumpy mattress filled with pine needles. She would not have had even that if she had not awakened one morning to find it in her front yard. Jacob said Gideon and his men had brought it. It was obviously from an old slave cabin. She wanted to leave the stolen item where it had been left, but her pride bent to the aches in her bones. The same was true of her kitchen stove, a nice, wood-burning model, hardly used. One morning she awoke to find it sitting in the back yard. Jacob and another man brought it inside. Kitty sighed reluctantly. She told herself it was really too cold to be cooking over a fire outside.

  Other items appeared mysteriously—chickens, two pigs, a basket of apples, a thick quilt, some muslin. “I know Gideon is stealing these things,” Kitty wailed to Jacob one morning as they stood together looking at a badly needed washtub. “I feel terrible taking them. Maybe if I just left them sitting where he leaves them, he would stop it.”

  “He’d give ’em to somebody else,” the old Negro said, shaking his head. “He got quite a gang now, missy. I heers all about it when I goes to town. The whites done formed a vigilante group, and they go out a’ridin’ ever night, but they can’t catch ’em. They done stole the fastest horses, so they can outrun anything the whites got. At first they just went to the empty places, houses where the folks had run off a’fore the Yankees came. Now they robbin’ anybody they pleases. You heered about ’em even robbin’ Mr. Calvin Potts?”