by Caryl McAdoo
Chapter Seven
The wordless exchange between her uncle and her stepmother set Cecelia on edge, put a sour taste in her mouth that the honey-laced coffee couldn’t cut.
Then, once the men were off to work, even before she could help Miss Jewel get their dinner to cooking, Mama May asked her so sweetly and nice if she could have a word with her in Daddy’s library.
Oh, Lord, she was found out!
She hadn’t meant to make so much noise last night.
“Of course, Mama. Now?” Did she say that just right? Would the perceptive woman hear guilt in her tone? But then, she hadn’t done anything wrong. One little kiss. That’s all it was. And she was going to marry the man.
“Yes, please. I’d like the word before you father returns home.”
With a nod, Cecelia gathered herself and smiled.
Oh, Lord, was she going to tell Daddy? Please don’t let her tell him, Lord.
Willing her lips into a scant smile, she met her eyes, but looked quickly away as tears suddenly threatened to fill and overflow.
“Yes, ma’am.” She couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t help! They’d only give her away. She opened her eyes wide, trying to dissipate them.
Mama May held the door until Cecelia stepped inside, gestured her toward the wingback, then took her father’s seat. “Sweetheart, your Uncle Chester tells me he heard someone in the attic last night. Someone about your size, he figures.”
A lie streaked across her tongue, but she refused to give it voice. No reason to dig her hole any deeper. Instead, she forced her face blank and found a spot on the wall to stare at. “He did?”
“Yes, indeed, he did.” Mama May looked away and sighed. “Then…he heard a thud when the young lady lowered herself into Mister Eversole’s room.”
Cecelia’s breath caught in her throat. Had the gasp been out loud? She was dead. Except her life hadn’t flashed before her eyes. More tears welled, too many to keep from falling.
A lump formed in her throat, holding back her voice. Helpless against it, all her words gathered up and choked her. She finally managed to swallow, and they came pouring out on top each other.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t do anything wrong there. I just needed to talk. In private. Tell Elijah something.” The flood gates opened, and she sobbed into her hands.
May reached over the desk and offered a handkerchief trimmed in cotton lace from her pocket. “Here.”
The girl took it, and for a bit, she let her cry. Then once she regained some control, leaned forward. “CeCe, would Elijah tell your father the same story?”
The poor thing looked up with such a pitiful expression and nodded. “But please! Please don’t tell Daddy. You just can’t, Mama! He’ll….” She dropped her chin to her chest and covered her face with both hands.
Could May keep it from Henry?
Even if she wanted to for her daughter’s sake, she just couldn’t see how she could possibly withhold the incident. Hopefully though, she would be able to keep him from going berserk. Had the late night been innocent as she claimed, or did the darling’s silence point to something more sinister?
“Cecelia?”
She looked up again, eyes red and puffy, and dabbed the hanky under them. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Was that my answer or a question?”
“Ma’am?”
“Would Elijah tell your father the same story?”
Her head hung again. “No, ma’am, probably not.” She looked up, remorse written all over her face. “If telling the truth, he would add that I kissed him. But he didn’t kiss me back! It was a short kiss. You know. Just a short, sweet kiss.”
“Why, baby? Why would you take such a chance?”
“Oh, Mama May, I had to tell him to wait for me. That you were working on Daddy. He’d been making eyes at Gwen all through supper, and…and…not hardly paying me any attention. But I knew that first morning he came that I loved him. It was love at first sight. I thought for both of us. I could tell, but Daddy’s rule. And Clay coming back!”
“I’d think Clay’s return would be a good thing.”
“Didn’t you see? It was like Elijah had to best him or something. I’m telling you he hardly looked at me the whole meal! Oh, Mama, what am I going to do? I can’t live without him.”
“Did he say he’d wait for you?”
Her shoulders barely lifted, and her eyes went to the floor. “Not really. Not as I’d hoped, but he nodded like he would. I took it as a yes.”
“Sweetie, if we can’t get your father to change his mind, then you’re talking ten months before he can even begin to court you, and then how long after that before your father would agree to a wedding?”
“But no matter how long…I can wait as long as I know he’ll be mine. Can’t he?”
“Well, I’m not sure. You’ve only just met him, and you’re talking forever. His life is in California. Have you thought about that? Are you ready to move there?”
“But he could stay here. And…how long after you met Daddy did you know? I mean that he was the one.”
May smiled. Henry’s baby girl hadn’t fallen too far from her father’s tree. “From the start, I wanted to get to know him better, but.…” She sat back. “Most times, a wife goes where her husband does.”
“But not always, and of course, I want to know everything about Elijah! But I only get to see him a few minutes each day. You and Daddy spent a lot of time together alone before you got married.”
“True, but your father is a man of honor.”
“Didn’t last night prove Elijah is as well? I mean when I kissed him, he could have kissed me back, or worse, but he didn’t. Doesn’t that prove something…at least to you?”
“So do you want to be the one to tell your father all of this?”
She settled back in the chair and shook her head. “Oh, no. He can’t know any of it.”
“What would you have done if Mister Eversole had kissed you back?”
“I don’t know. I asked myself the same question last night.” The girl turned and stared out the window. The curtains waved in the breeze. The distant voices of playing children rode on it.
“Cecelia?”
She looked back. “I wanted him to, and it did hurt my heart that he didn’t. Still…I am certain. I would have stopped it, left. I would have made him let me go.”
“Through all the centuries, sweetheart, there are countless young ladies who’ve thought the same thing, then didn’t. You’ve got to promise me you’ll never put yourself in that position again.”
“Yes, ma’am, I promise.” The girl’s eyes brightened, then clouded just as quick. She scooted to the edge of her seat. “And you won’t tell Daddy?”
“I didn’t say that. But thank you for your promise.”
“Oh please. He doesn’t need to know, does he?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m leaning toward keeping this between us.”
CeCe exhaled. “That would be boss, even better than that, it would be wonderful, Mama.”
For the fourth time, the beautiful young lady had dropped the May and just called her Mama.
Was it only an enticement? Could Cecelia possibly know how very much she wanted her and Gwendolyn to call her just Mama? Bonnie and Houston had, even before she married their father, but they were really too young to remember Sue.
A knock on the door pulled her attention from the seventeen-year-old. “Yes? Come in.”
Gwen opened the door holding Crocket. “He wants his mama.”
The boy almost flopped out of her arms, leaning and stretching his little hands toward her. “Mama.”
She stood and took the baby then smiled at Cecelia. “Best go see if Miss Jewel needs any help. It’ll soon be time to take the men their dinner.”
Both girls turned and headed toward the door.
“Oh, and would you please ask Bonnie to come see me in half an hour or so?”
Bonnie heard them before they stormed into the parlor,
but ignored them completely. She handed Lacey Rose the fancy China tea cup on a saucer. “Here you are, Miss Lacey. Would you care for a crumpet?”
The eight-year-old glanced at the door, grinned then took the offering. “Please. How kind of you to offer. I would love a crumpet with strawberry jam, please, if you have it. And thank you, Miss Buckmeyer.”
“Mama May wants you, Bonnie.”
She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll go when we’re through with our tea party.”
“She said to have you come in about thirty minutes and that will be in five more, so don’t doddle.” She hated Gwen’s tone, as though she was her mother or something. God had sent Mama to replace her real one who she barely remembered.
And Gwendolyn was only her third oldest sister.
She faced the interlopers. She’d love it if those two were distant cousins, and she the oldest. Lacey Rose could be her baby sister instead of just her friend. “Mama letting you take dinner to the sawmill?”
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t she?”
Rising out of the too-small chair, the one Uncle Wallace had made his namesake for her sixth birthday, she straightened her church skirt. Shame he hadn’t built it a bit bigger. Lacey Rose could still get up and down pretty easy, but it’d become a chore for her.
“So what’s my offer to go today?”
“I want to go, too.” Lacey jumped up. “Please, please.”
Oh, no! They couldn’t let her go! Then they might not need Bonnie!
“I don’t know if there’d be enough room, sweetie. The surrey would already be crowded.” Cecelia turned toward Bonnie. “And you…we can chaperone ourselves! There’s two of us, and we can watch each other. No one will have to carry the basket in their lap that way, too. So don’t you worry your thieving head any.”
She squinted and glared, first at CeCe then bore a hole into Gwen. “I don’t think Daddy will like that at all, not one little bit. Mama knows that, too, so she won’t be standing for it. You best be about making me happy. Now I ask again, what’s the offer?”
“Daddy’s not here though, is he?”
Sometimes she wished she didn’t have any big sisters. She wanted to be the oldest.
“Well, he will be any minute!” She huffed and put her fists on her waist. “Told Mama midday, and unless the big clock is off, it struck the half hour a while back. Be eleven before you know it.”
“So? We’ll be long gone before noon.”
She winked at Lacey Rose, who’d sat back down, quite dejected. Brushing past CeCe with her step-aside-I’ve-got-business look, Bonnie noted red in her eyes as though she’d been crying.
What was that all about? Had Elijah told her? No. He hadn’t had a chance to before he and Clay went to work. Had he?
She hurried to her daddy’s office, or maybe she should call it Mama’s. Of late, she worked in there way more than her father. But she had the pirate book to write. Probably why she wanted to see her, to give her more pages to read.
Being in on reading the book as she wrote it was fun.
After an easy rap, just in case Crocket was asleep, she peeked in. Bonnie loved the smell of old books.
“Come on in, sweetheart.”
She sashayed to the far wingback and sat properly like an English lady come from high tea. “The sisters said you wanted to see me. Do you have more pages?”
“Don’t you look lovely.”
“Yes, ma’am. Lacey Rose and I were having a tea party.”
“Well, I’m sorry to have called you away, then.”
“It’s alright. It was already rudely interrupted.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Your sisters want to take Elijah and Clay their dinner. Are you free to go with them?”
“Why was CeCe crying?”
“You don’t miss much do you?”
“No, ma’am. Have to be observant when you’re the youngest. Well, youngest sister anyway.”
“I see.”
“So did Elijah tell her?”
Her stepmother shook her head. Stepmother? Where had that come from? Mama was not wicked by anyone’s measure, and now that Daddy had put her birth mother’s picture away, Bonnie could hardly even remember what she looked like.
No, Mama was her mother now, period.
“What are you talking about?”
She shrugged. No need to say anything yet. Not until her daddy changed his pigheaded mind. “Do you remember Judy Goldthwaite? She and her husband come to church some when they can get away and Langford Creek is passable.”
“Is she that young lady who got married about a year ago?”
Nodding, Bonnie smiled. “Exactly right. And they’re doing just great. Got one baby now with another on the way. Her husband always looks at her like he surely adores her.”
“What are you getting at, Bonnie?”
“Oh, I’m only thinking that five years and seven months is a very long time. Too long to wait.” She rose then went and sat on the arm of Mama’s chair, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You’ve got to get Daddy to change his mind.”
May suppressed a laugh. That would never do. Not when Bonnie was being so serious. “I have mentioned it, but don’t expect him to move much at all on his timetable. Six months would surprise me.”
“But I can’t wait that long! You’ve got to get him to understand! We’re not Mary Rachel, and…” She pouted her bottom lip and shrugged. “Even that worked out great in the end. We all love Jethro Risen, and if she hadn’t run off with Caleb to California, then where would she be now?”
“Doesn’t the Bible say not to tempt God?”
“I think so, but how’s that the same? I’m not saying to tempt Daddy at all. I only want him to agree that if the right man comes along, that just because I’m say…fifteen…he wouldn’t stand in the way. Enforce his stupid rule. I know you understand.”
She bit her lip to keep the smile off her face. Apparently little miss was smitten with one of the men working on the new steam engine. Didn’t really matter which one. Perhaps she and Crockett should be today’s chaperone.
But if the three girls went again, they could all keep an eye on each other.
Plus Chester had passed the word on to the cousins for them to not let anything happen.
“So? Can you go with your sisters today?”
“Sure. I mean yes, ma’am. I’ll go.”
“Thank you. Keep everyone together, and don’t let them talk you into staying any later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bonnie squeezed her neck again then jumped to her feet. May needed to spend some extra time with this one about being more graceful, but that could wait. No need in giving her any false hopes about being grown up.
Bonnie eased out. One of her father’s strictest rules allowed no slamming doors—especially his. May reached for her inkwell then stopped midway as a twitch stabbed her belly.
Oh, Lord, what have I done?
Chapter Eight
As promised, May’s beloved returned midday. The desire to unburden her heart proved almost more than she could bear, but she held her peace through the afternoon. He brought news of Rebecca and Wallace to share and the telling of his and Braxton’s trip.
Oh, his voice! The very sound of it stirred her insides, had from the start. She told him about Clay’s return and her decision to let him stay over.
Then Henry’s leaving for the sawmill left her alone again with her expose-or-cover predicament. Each half-hour the big clock chimed, the heaviness on her chest increased. Should she keep Cecelia’s secret?
As much as she’d love to gain the dear girl’s confidence and love, as much as she wanted to be her mother—a real mother, May just couldn’t see trying to keep the incident from her husband.
Maybe she could talk him into not saying anything to the girl, let her be the one to take care of it…but with his input how it should be handled. If only she could impart how important it was to her.
But she’d have to take her chances. She had to tell him. D
idn’t she? Would she ever be able to hide anything from Henry?
Then again, why would she want to? The kind and patient man had never given her any reason to hide things from him. Quite the opposite, experience proved she could tell him anything. Still, this was different, but secrets were bad.
Anyway, hopefully, he wouldn’t do anything rash.
On the way to the kitchen to help get supper ready, the aroma of Jewel’s pork roast caused her tummy to roll. Hungrier than she’d thought, but she’d really been trying to eat less, too. Her clothes had been feeling a little tight of late.
The busyness helped lessen the weight of the elephant on her chest.
All the men arrived home, and she’d failed to reach any conclusive decision.
After the food got to the table, and Bonnie blessed it, everyone went to serving their plates and passing the dishes. During the meal, May distracted herself watching the young ladies watch the men and vice-versa.
Before seconds were passed, her youngest daughter gave it away that Elijah was the object of her puppy love.
And poor Gwen couldn’t decide if she wanted Braxton or Clay. It tickled her how Henry stepped up his guard.
Seemed he kept the majority of his attention on young Mister Briggs, but had already relented to letting him stay for one more night. The boy must have said something right when apologizing and admitting his shortcomings.
Before he finished his plate, Elijah set his fork down and retrieved a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket.
“Mister Henry, I’ve been thinking about Levi Baylor and the gang of men sowing cotton I saw the other day. Got an idea for a mechanical planter.” He extended the paper toward the head of the table. “If you’re interested in looking it over.”
Henry nodded and took the sheet passed along to him. “So you met the major?”
“Yes, sir. An impressive man.”
For a few seconds, May stood and looked over Henry’s shoulder while he studied the drawing. It didn’t make a lot of sense to her. He wadded his napkin then put it next to his plate, scooting it out of his way. He continued examining the paper after she returned to her seat.
