Dueling Hearts

by McDonough, Vickie;

  “Come and see your son, Johnny. He’s so sweet. He’s got your nose, I believe.”

  “Not now. I’m tired.”

  Millie shrugged, but her disappointment was evident. Carina handed the baby back to his mother. “Will you call him Johnny like his father?”

  “We haven’t really talked much about that yet. I was thinking about maybe calling him J.J.” She glanced over at her husband. “Is that all right, Johnny?”

  He shrugged but didn’t comment. The man was horribly thin. Susan had told her what Reed had conveyed to her—that he’d nearly starved himself to save his wife and baby. Knowing the lengths he’d gone to—even stealing to keep them alive—had washed away any uncertainties she had about them staying with her. Maybe when Johnny got better, he’d be willing to help out around the plantation, and maybe she could find some way to pay him a small salary, though she had no idea how she’d do that.

  “I’d best get back to work now. If you need anything, just holler.”

  Carina slipped down the hall into her room and shut the door. She pressed her skirts against her flat stomach. Would she ever marry? Would she ever know what it was like to carry a man’s child? In that moment, as if someone had illuminated a dark room, she knew the truth. The only man’s child she wished to carry was Reed’s.

  But that could never be.

  ❧

  Reed strode into the music room and dropped into a chair. His mother halted the song she was beautifully playing and smiled.

  “The walls are up on two of the clinic’s rooms already.”

  “So why aren’t you happy?”

  Reed shrugged. He knew, but he had yet to tell her.

  She rose and glided toward him, perfectly presentable, even though the breakfast hour had barely passed. “Is it Carina?”

  “I don’t know what to do, Mother. I approached her father, but he said he would never approve a marriage between us.”

  She cocked one brow. “Marriage? You actually asked him that?”

  Reed thought back a moment. “No, but I told him I had feelings for her.”

  “Hmm. . .the Bible does tell children to honor their fathers.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her palm.

  “Hear me out before you say anything.” She took the chair next to his and turned toward him. “Give this over to the good Lord. If it’s His will for you to marry Carina, trust Him to work it all out.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “Well, frankly, it is. Either you trust God with your life and trust Him to help you through the problems in your life, or you don’t.”

  Reed gave her a melancholy smile, for that was all his hurting heart could manufacture. “How did you get to be so wise?”

  “Old age, I’m afraid. You’ll be wise, too, once you start turning gray-headed.”

  “Some days I feel like I already am.” He straightened in his chair, knowing what he had to say next would please her immensely. “I’ve been praying, Mother, and doing some thinking, and you’re right.”

  “Wonderful! What am I right about?” Her brown eyes glimmered.

  “About me and the plantation. I’ve realized that I need to step up and do my duty as part owner of Reed Springs. God showed me that I need to embrace my inheritance. After what happened at the duel, I felt I didn’t deserve all of this. I wasted much of my youth, and being a surgeon, making my own way, was penance.”

  “Oh, Reed. All of this is a gift, just like God’s love. You can never earn it, because it’s already yours.”

  He smiled. “I know that now, Mother.”

  “Mama. . .”

  He uttered a mock sigh and shook his head. “I’m happy to say, Mama, that as of today, you’ve been relieved of your duties.”

  “What duties?”

  “All of them. Everything having to do with the plantation. I’m ready to take my place as planter—but I also intend to be a surgeon.”

  “Hmm. . .” She tapped her index finger against her lips. “Let me get this right. You plan to select all the meals for each day, and see that the maids dust behind the lamps, and oversee the spring cleaning and the hanging of netting on the beds?”

  He sat back in his chair. “Uh. . .no. I’ll leave those and the other household duties to you. How about this: anything inside you tend to, and outside duties will belong to me.”

  “That sounds wonderful, son.” She hopped up. “Come with me.”

  He rose and followed. “Where are we going?”

  “Outside.”

  He rolled his eyes at Jarrod as they passed him on their way out the back door. “Why are we going outside?”

  “So I can show you how to hang up the laundry.”

  ❧

  If not for her heart breaking like an egg crushed under Woodson’s big foot, everything else in Carina’s life would have seemed as close to perfect as it could get. The crops were healthy and growing well. Her fader still grumbled but not so much as before when he’d been drinking. Baby J.J. and his mother were doing well, and she’d even seen Johnny outside at a distance, though the man seemed so shy that he wouldn’t talk to anyone but his wife. At least he had Millie, and she seemed happy and contented.

  She finished brushing Lulu and leaned her head against the mare’s warm side. Thank You, Lord, for giving her back to me.

  After giving her mare a final pat, she wandered back to the slave cabins to see Abel. She’d noticed him sitting outside under a tree when she rode back from checking the fields. He waved and flashed her that big, toothy grin she loved.

  “Mornin’, missy.”

  “Good morning, although it’s getting closer to noon.”

  Abel pushed back his hat and looked up. “That it is. No wonder my belly’s ticklin’ my innards.”

  Carina chuckled. Abel had a way of making her laugh. “Would you like me to get something for you to eat?”

  “Nah, I can wait a spell. Oh, oh!” He snatched up a long, narrow stick from off the ground and worked it down into the splint from the top side, then tugged it up and down. His eyes looked up, and a contented grin replaced his agitated look. “Ahh. . .that sure feels good. This ol’ leg is about to itch off.”

  “Have you asked the doctor about that?” Just mentioning Reed made her miss him anew. She hung her head, wishing there was a way to change things.

  “Ain’t seen him since the day he delivered that baby. What was that—ten days or so?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Not that nobody’s countin’.”

  She glanced up but didn’t smile, realizing she’d been doing exactly that. Pining for what she couldn’t have was making her miserable.

  “You needs to give yo’ burden to the Lord, missy. You don’t have to carry it yo’self.”

  “I’m trying, honestly. But it’s so hard at times.”

  “I know it is, but don’t you think it was hard on God when He let His Son die for the sins of this world? Ain’t nuthin’ that’s worth anything that don’t cost us something.”

  She’d recently read in the New Testament about how Jesus had willingly died on the cross to set man free from the bondage of sin. She thought of Millie’s sweet baby and how hard it would be for her to sacrifice her child. Carina shook her head. It would be unbearable to watch your child suffer. How much more must it have been for God, who could have merely uttered a word or even a whisper and made all of His Son’s suffering on the cross stop.

  How small and petty her worries seemed in the light of Christ’s sacrifice.

  “Thank you, Abel. You sure are wise.”

  She made her way past the barn but paused when she saw the wagon in the yard. “Oh no. Not again.” This was the third time since the day Johnny and Millie had arrived that William Dean had come to visit, and each time was just before the noon meal.

  She was in no mood to see him again. He was a nice enough man—and his children were sweet—but she had no desire to marry him. How was she going to get that acr
oss to him?

  Carina spun around and hurried past the barn. Abel’s brows lifted when she came his way again, but she turned right and darted behind the barn. Lifting her skirts, she climbed into the paddock and hunkered down, hoping the fence rails might give her some cover. Comet whickered and walked her way. “No!” She swatted her hand in the air. His head jerked up, but he didn’t take the hint and slowly wandered in her direction. Not wasting any more time on the gelding, she looked for Mr. Dean, and when she didn’t see him, she made a mad dash toward the side of the house.

  Etta sat outside the kitchen and saw her coming. “Wha’cha doin’, Miz ’Rina?” she called out loudly.

  “Shhh. . .” Carina held her finger to her lips.

  Etta glanced around, eyes wide. “What’s wrong? How come we gotta be quiet?”

  Heaving a sigh, Carina straightened. What was the point of sneaking around when you had Etta to announce your presence?

  As she crept in the back door, she thought she heard the front door close. Could she be so fortunate? She tiptoed past the stairway leading to the second floor and into the parlor, where she peeked out the front window. Sure enough, Mr. Dean was climbing into his wagon. He stood there a minute, hands on hips, and slowly turned in a half circle. Was he looking for her?

  He turned back toward the front of the house, and she jumped sideways, out of view. Holding her breath, she listened for the jingle of harnesses, and then finally let the air from her lungs.

  “What in the world are you doin’ standing in the corner, child?”

  Carina jumped. How could a woman as large as Betsey be so quiet when she wanted to be?

  “I ain’t seen you doin’ that since. . .well. . .can’t say as I ever have. ”

  “You scared me.”

  “What are you up to?” Her maid narrowed her eyes. “Hiding. Mmm-hmm. From that nice Mr. Dean. Shame on you.”

  Yes, he was nice, but he wasn’t Reed Bishop, and she didn’t want to give the man any false hopes.

  “Well, never you mind. Yo’ daddy’s wantin’ to see you. That lawyer man was here whilst you was out checkin’ the fields.” Betsey’s wide grin reached from ear to ear. “So get on up there. I’m dyin’ to hear the good news.”

  Had he finally changed his will to make her his heir? Dare she hope? But what else could her fader want? He never asked for her, not unless he wanted to try again to get her to buy him some whiskey, but even those requests had come less often of late. Standing outside his door, she braced herself. In spite of Betsey’s optimism, she had a feeling she wouldn’t like what he was going to say.

  She rapped on his door then pushed it open. The room was darker than usual with all but one of the curtains shut tight. The stench and the heat were nearly unbearable. How did he stand it? She swallowed hard. “You wanted to see me?”

  “I did. Here.” He flung a half-curled piece of parchment paper at her.

  Unrolling it, she tilted it toward the light and read the heading. Last Will and Testament.

  She sucked in a breath and glanced at her fader. This was it. He must have changed his mind. Why else would he have her read his will? Her gaze dropped back to the paper, and she scanned the information. Her heart stopped.

  I will my complete estate to my son, Johan Karl Zimmer, and in the event of his death to his legal heirs.

  “I don’t understand. Why would you leave everything to a son who is dead?”

  Her fader’s eyes gazed past her, to the right.

  “Because he isn’t dead.”

  She spun around, hand on her chest, at the sound of a man’s voice coming from the corner. Johnny stepped out of the shadows, wearing a shirt that had belonged to her brother, a shirt that hung far too loose on his skeletal frame. He had shaved and washed his hair. He resembled someone, but who? She shoved the thought away. “What are you doing in Fader’s room?”

  A smirk lifted his lips on one side. “You don’t even recognize your own brother? You disappoint me, Carina.”

  “Johan?” She studied his features. He had matured and looked far different. He’d always been thin, but his cheeks had never been hollow. When he reached up and tugged on his ear, she knew it was him. “How is it you’re alive? You died.”

  “I’m sorry, but it is me.”

  She didn’t know whether to run and embrace the brother she’d missed so much or not. He made no move to come to her. In fact, he seemed colder than she remembered. Distant. How could she have not known him when she first saw him? “Now I know why you never let anyone see your face.”

  He shrugged, and the tiniest of grins pulled at one side of his mouth. A fire lit in her stomach. The brother she loved so much was home—back from the grave. God had truly worked a miracle for her. She stepped toward him. “Don’t I get a hug? Remember how you used to fall into my skirts and embrace my legs?”

  He frowned, looking much like her fader, who remained oddly quiet. “Let’s wait until you’ve heard everything and see if you still want one.”

  She reached back and grabbed hold of the footboard again. What could that mean? “At least explain how it is that you’re alive.”

  That grin again, as if he had pulled something off on everyone. “I was never hurt as bad as you assumed.”

  “But I saw the blood.”

  “What you saw was a red wine stain and some blood.”

  Behind her, her fader chuckled, as if he’d been part of the ruse.

  She concentrated hard, trying to remember that awful day. Was it possible? She’d been so distraught. Could she have missed such a thing? All she remembered was the blood. How pale he’d looked. How much pain he’d been in. “You tricked me?”

  It must be true, for here he was. She lifted her gaze to his face, longing to touch him, to make certain she wasn’t dreaming. “So why did you disappear? Where have you been?”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he scowled again. “What happened is that I fainted, Carina. I was so afraid when I shot Reed Bishop in the arm and he raised that pistol to shoot me, I simply fainted. He winged my side as I fell.” He stared at the ground and shook his head. “All I’d ever been was a weakling who’d hung on his sister’s skirts. I was too embarrassed to face anyone after that. I had to get away from here—get away from you.”

  “Me?” A searing pain lanced her heart. Johan despised her as much as their fader did? “I—I don’t understand. All I did was care for you—love you.”

  He huffed a haughty laugh. “Of course you don’t. You smothered me. You were always the strong one, so strong that I never had a chance. Like the bigger baby bird that forces the smaller one from the nest.”

  His words blistered a spot deep within that her fader had never been able to reach. The boy she’d loved so much hated her, and she still didn’t understand why. She loved him as much as a mother loved her own child. She hung her head, wanting just to flee the room.

  “I had an interesting visitor a short while ago,” her fader said, his voice as haughty as her brother’s. “Mr. Dean, a fine man if I do say so, has asked to marry you, and I’ve agreed.”

  “No!” She clutched the bed frame with both hands. “You can’t. I don’t love him.”

  “Ha! What does that matter?”

  She tightened her grip on the wood bars, trying hard to stay upright. “Why? All I ever did was take care of this place. To make sure we kept our land when you took to your bed. I’ve worked dawn to dusk to make sure we all have food to eat. Why are you doing this?”

  He sat up, his eyes cold. “Because you sought to replace me. Thought you could run this place on your own, and look at it. You’ve sold three-fourths of our land.”

  It was only one-fourth, but she didn’t have the strength to correct him. She was losing the one thing she held dear: Tanglewood.

  “You sold my slaves and pocketed the money and refused to buy me whiskey. You chased my only son and heir away and made friends with my mortal enemy. It’s not one thing, it’s many that you’ve done. Now do y
ou understand?”

  He didn’t want an answer. His mind was made up.

  “Tanglewood belongs to your brother now. Pack up your things and prepare to leave. Mr. Dean will be by to collect you at noon tomorrow.”

  Numb. Cold. As if her blood had thickened, Carina could hardly move. She forced herself to turn, keeping one hand on the bed frame. Lifting her gaze to Johan, she hoped to see a speck of the boy she’d cherished, but he was not there. He’d been replaced by a coldhearted imposter. His arms were crossed over his thin chest, and the look on his face said checkmate.

  Somehow she made it to the hall. Millie’s door was open, and she was bent over the bed, talking to her son. How ironic that Carina had placed them in the room that had been Johan’s. She realized that the woman she was staring at was her sister-in-law. The baby was her nephew. But she knew in her heart that he would never know her.

  Tears filled her eyes and overflowed. She sucked in a sob. Millie turned, giving her a curious stare. She stood and smiled, started to come to her. In that moment, Carina was certain that she didn’t know of her husband’s deception.

  She raced down the hall, ignoring Millie’s calls, turned into her room, and locked the door. Sliding down to the floor, the floodgates burst. She had lost everything.

  Reed.

  Her family.

  Her home.

  But most of all, the slaves—her dear friends.

  Now she fully understood what it must feel like to be a slave, torn asunder from all that one loved.

  Nineteen

  “Let’s call off this whole thing, Mother.” Reed buttoned his Highland frock coat, knowing his request would not be granted. His mother had invited half of Charleston to tonight’s ball, while he had no desire to see a soul.

  “You know it’s too late. And seeing all your friends and our business associates will be good for you. Maybe it will pull you out of your melancholy.”

  She was wrong. He paced to the window and looked down on the carriages coming up the drive like ants to a picnic. Several servants were directing the guests where to park. How would he make it through this long afternoon and evening? He’d be expected to smile and dance. How could he make merry when his heart was shattered?