Midnight Kiss (Moonlight Romance)

by Haley Whitehall

“Yes, sir.” He sat up straighter.

  April smiled at him, her dark eyes silently telling him not to worry about the children. “You have a good day, Mr. Seever. We’ll be fine.”

  His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips for a fraction of a second. He wanted to kiss her now, but he denied himself again. His heart pounded faster and he resisted the urge to close the distance between them. No need to scare her away on the first day. She truly was a blessing.

  And his brother was a curse. Lord, he wished he could stay home instead of going to town and begging a banker for money. Currently at his brother’s beck and call, the damn man would take full advantage to teach him a lesson.

  After he’d contributed a good sum of money to help his brother buy their warehouse the rest of his savings had gone to purchasing Caroline’s freedom. She’d experienced freedom, experienced his love, and the love of two babies, if only for a short time.

  Matt’s eyes watered and he blinked away the moisture. “What do you plan to do today?” he asked April.

  “Cleaning and tidying up, sir.”

  She didn’t comment on his emotion and he was thankful.

  “I’ll try to put everything in its proper place. If I don’t know where something belongs you’ll have to tell me later.”

  “Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. See you this evening, Miss April.” He put on his coat and hat and left.

  He didn’t like being in business with his brother. They’d never seen eye-to-eye on much growing up. Matt had learned butting heads with him never ended well. Out of self-preservation, he’d learned to give way to the man’s whims and agree with him like a good little brother.

  And accept whatever dirt Boyd wanted to sling his way. Whatever indignity his brother saw fit for his supposed foolishness he’d endure—just as long as the man didn’t say one cross word to Seth or Hannah or April.

  *

  April wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Mr. Seever had her so mixed up. The ruggedly handsome white man expected her to take meals with him. Every day he did something to surprise her. Her original plan of not spending much time with him had crumbled. The prospect of two and possibly three meals a day with him and the children was enough to leave her head spinning.

  She hadn’t said much at breakfast because one look at him tied her tongue. He put in her in precarious position. She didn’t feel like merely his nanny, but she didn’t want to overstep. She had to figure out this puzzle on her own. There was no doubt his brother, Boyd, viewed her as hired help.

  She looked around the messy home. Even a blind person would realize a bachelor lived here. The dusty, dirty smell overpowered her nose. She tried not to breathe too deeply afraid to bring on a sneezing fit.

  Pondering Mr. Seever’s eccentricities would have to wait. She needed to clean house. It would take her several days to get everything in order. She’d need clean pots, pans, and bowls to do more cooking today. It took her thirty minutes to scrub all the dishes clean. Her fingertips had grown wrinkled from being submerged so long in the soapy water.

  She passed a clean wooden bowl to Hannah. Seth and his sister took turns helping her dry. Hannah handed her back the dried bowl and she stacked it on the counter with the rest. That would have to do for now.

  “Thank you, Seth, Hannah. You have both been a big help.”

  “Drying dishes is women’s work,” Seth said.

  April laughed. “Plenty of men wash dishes.” Or let the dirty ones pile up until they are forced to wash dishes. She looked down at the curly headed boy. “Are you ready for a manly chore?”

  “Yes!” Seth said.

  “Are you sure? It is going to take a lot of muscle.”

  Seth flexed his arms. “I’m strong. See.”

  “Good. You can help me scrub the floor.” The wood floor was caked with dirt and dust. April brought in a clean bucket of water and rounded up some old rags. “Dive in. There’s plenty to clean.”

  The two children each grabbed a rag. Getting on their hands and knees they began scrubbing the floor clean. April got to her feet. The water looked dark and murky. She picked it up ready to dump it outside.

  “Miss April,” Seth said, patting her arm.

  “Yes?” she asked, turning around.

  “Can we take a break and play outside? We’ve been working a long time.”

  April’s stomach clenched. It was dangerous for the children to be outside. Strangers could hurt them. Trees they could climb and accidentally fall out of like Billy. And the water. Did they know how to swim?

  “Please, Miss April,” Hannah joined in.

  She nodded. How could she say no? They’d helped her dry all the dishes and scrub the floor, barely complaining.

  “All right. I think we all deserve a break. Will one of you be so kind as to open the door for me?”

  “I will!” Hannah said, hurrying over to door.

  “Don’t run. The floor is damp,” April warned.

  Hannah slowed down just as she reached the door. Throwing it open she grinned. “Look at that sunshine.”

  April took the water down the porch steps and tossed it under a maple tree. Where should the children play outside? There wasn’t much space around the house. They needed room to run after being cooped up inside for so long.

  If they played around the warehouse again, George and the other workers could help her keep an eye on the two energetic children. “Let’s go to the warehouse. If your papa is there you can say hello to him.”

  Hannah nodded her head vigorously. “Good idea. I hope he’s there.”

  April hoped he was there, too. She’d barely known him for more than a week, but she missed him. Her heart fluttered whenever he was around. She’d grown to like that feeling more and more.

  *

  Matt sat next to his brother in the bank manager’s office. Boyd had laid out his case, presented the man with his projections for the future and how long it would take for them to pay back the small loan. Now they waited.

  Boyd bounced his right foot on the floor, his hands on his thighs. Matt held his breath. Being denied wouldn’t be too bad except his brother would be in a sour mood for a long time.

  The bank manager leaned back in his chair, looking at them through his wire-rimmed glasses. “Well, gentlemen,” Mr. Baxter said, “it sounds like you have a sound business plan, but before I sign your loan I’d like to tour your warehouse.”

  “Why, sir?” Matt asked.

  Boyd shot him a dirty look. “That is fine, sir. What time works for you?”

  “How about now?”

  Matt’s eyes widened, completely taken off-guard by the spur of the moment request. Wouldn’t a busy banker have better things to do than tour a warehouse?

  “That would be fine, sir. We’d be delighted to show you our business,” Boyd said.

  “Good. It is a nice day. I don’t think I’ll mind the walk.” The thick-set man put on his black coat, top hat, and grabbed his cane.

  Matt didn’t say another word on the way to the warehouse. Boyd carried on polite conversation with Mr. Baxter about the weather and business. Matt knew if he opened his mouth, he’d just say the wrong thing. As Boyd had pointed out on a couple occasions, he was better as a silent partner.

  George drove a wagon of supplies up to the warehouse. Another colored man approached the wagon to help him unload the crates.

  Mr. Baxter pointed to the long wooden boxes. “What do you have in there?”

  “Rifles for the army,” Boyd said. “We do a lot of business with the army.”

  “The Yankee army,” Mr. Baxter said.

  “It is the U.S army now,” Matt pointed out.

  “I know, I know,” Mr. Baxter said. “And I’m sure the army gives you steady business. You’re part of their supply line. I just can’t help but have some hard feelings.” He motioned to the warehouse with a sweep of his arm. “A quick tour, gentlemen?”

  “Yes, of course,” Boyd said, walking ahead of him.
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br />   There wasn’t much to see in the warehouse except for all the goods. Guess the crates, barrels, and boxes proved they were indeed doing business and not making it up. Matt gritted his teeth to keep from laughing. It was just like a banker to be untrustworthy.

  “Well, that is it,” Boyd said, leading them out of the warehouse. “I hope you are satisfied, Mr. Baxter.”

  “Yes, everything seems to be in order. If you head back to town with me I can draw up the necessary papers.”

  “Yes, sir,” Boyd said. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Matt had the presence of mind to say. Likely Mr. Baxter thought he’d forgotten how to talk.

  They started walking away from the warehouse when laughter and shouting drew their attention. Hannah and Seth raced in front of the warehouse, playing tag.

  “I’m it,” Seth announced.

  Hannah took off running. She looked over her shoulder. “You can’t catch me,” she said, and nearly plowed into Mr. Baxter.

  “Where did these children come from?” Mr. Baxter asked, scowling, his arms folded across his chest.

  Boyd shot him a sideways glance so harsh it felt like a slap across the face.

  “They are my children, sir.”

  One of Mr. Baxter’s eyebrows jumped. “Your children?” he asked, the accusation in his voice blaring.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Matt knelt and called Hannah over to him. “You need to be more careful,” he said. “Tell Mr. Baxter you’re sorry.”

  “I’m sorry for not looking where I was going, sir,” Hannah said.

  He ran his hand down one of her black braids. April had pulled her hair back in pigtails and braided them. A little girl was supposed to have her hair braided, something a mother usually did. He re-tied one of the red bows that had come undone.

  April hurried over to them, worry flashing in her eyes. “Seth, Hannah,” she said in a sharp voice, “enough playing for now. It is time to come in and finish your chores.”

  Seth stared at April, but thankfully didn’t question her. He grabbed his sister’s hand and the two of them followed April back toward the house.

  Matt wished he could run over and apologize to his children for the man’s remark. April had taken them away before they had a chance to react. It stuck in his craw, but Matt knew what he had to say to Mr. Baxter. “I hope my children do not affect your decision, sir.”

  Mr. Baxter shook his head, still looking off to where April had disappeared. “No, Mr. Seever. Your personal life is none of my affair. I am only interested in business. Your loan comes with minimal risk. I’ll grant it and you and your brother can sign the papers.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Matt said inwardly sighing with relief. If his children had gotten their loan denied, his brother would never let him live it down.

  As it was Boyd seldom missed an opportunity to point out all his mistakes in life. Boyd was the successful one. He was the failure.

  He might not have achieved much in life, but Seth and Hannah were worth more to him than a million dollars.

  He saw the question lingering in Mr. Baxter’s eyes. The man was wondering whether April was the mother of his children. On the walk to the bank, Matt expected his curiosity to get the best of him. To his credit, he didn’t ask.

  Matt had nothing to be ashamed of. Caroline’s ghostly presence had reassured him she approved. He’d made some blunders, but he was going to correct them.

  Four years without a mother figure in their life was long enough. Caroline had given him permission to move on. She’d told him to open his heart again.

  If he remained patient maybe, just maybe, April would decide to complete his family.

  Chapter 8

  Mr. Baxter smiled, acknowledging the two gentlemen who had been sitting outside his office waiting for him to finish his business with the Seever brothers. “You may come in now,” he said in a polite tone. Inside his heart shook, but his voice remained steady.

  He’d been dreading the next meeting with Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Wheatly. Hopefully they’d be satisfied with what he had to offer them. They both took a chair, their steely eyes on him. Mr. Jefferson was a short, round man with a hard face. Mr. Wheatly was taller with angular features, rust-brown hair and sideburns. He didn’t want to cross either of them.

  Mr. Wheatly rested his elbows on the desk, his fingers clasped in a triangle. “Did you find a suitable building for our operations amongst your holdings?”

  Mr. Baxter’s stomach tightened. “Yes, and no. I—”

  “Yes and no?” Mr. Wheatly said. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I don’t actually own the building, yet. The Seever brothers, the men you saw leaving, just took out a loan. It is only a matter of time before they are unable to pay, and then the building will be yours.”

  “Hmm,” Mr. Jefferson said. “St. Louis is the last city we need a toehold in.”

  “I know. You keep telling me.”

  “So where is this building? You know the importance of the location.”

  “It is one of the warehouses near the waterfront. They took out a loan so they could purchase another warehouse, so technically you could acquire two warehouses in the near future.”

  “Waterfront, huh?” Mr. Jefferson said, exchanging an intrigued look with Mr. Wheatly. “Steamboat travel might be better than train travel anyway.”

  “That was precisely what I had been thinking, gentlemen,” Mr. Baxter said. He loosened his collar. The room seemed hotter and stuffier than usual. He should crack a window.

  “Do they store anything of value in the warehouse? Anything we could donate to the cause?”

  Mr. Baxter swallowed, moistening his dry throat. “I saw they had crates of rifles. They’re delivering them to the army.”

  “The Yankee bastards,” Mr. Jefferson growled. “It would be a shame if they never got there.”

  Mr. Baxter’s breath hitched. How rash would these gentlemen be? He supported the cause yes, but he wasn’t prepared for violence. And he didn’t want to raise any suspicion on himself. “I don’t think you could steal the whole shipment,” he said.

  “No, of course not,” Mr. Wheatly replied. “We’re experienced thieves. We’ll merely skim off the top. I doubt the army will even notice.”

  “Or the Seever brothers,” Mr. Jefferson added.

  Mr. Baxter shifted in his chair. I hope so. He didn’t like to get his hands dirty, but this was a delicate operation. They needed a man with money and resources and respectability. It was only natural they went to a banker for help.

  Sometimes he wondered if it had been a wise decision to take them up on their offer. The South will rise again. Despite his non-aristocratic roots, he had ambitions beyond owning and managing this bank. He wanted a start in politics, a career in congress would make sure his name was remembered in history, and he could help guide the fledgling Confederacy.

  Mr. Wheatly whistled and Mr. Baxter stopped daydreaming. “Sorry, gentlemen,” he said. “I was just thinking about the cause.”

  “With stars in your eyes,” Mr. Jefferson noted.

  Mr. Baxter put his hands in his lap. “It isn’t wrong to have personal motives.”

  Mr. Jefferson grunted. “No. But the good of the country comes first.”

  “The country being the South,” Mr. Baxter said.

  “Exactly,” said, Mr. Wheatly, standing. He extended his hand to Mr. Baxter. “It is a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

  “Same here,” Mr. Jefferson said also shaking the banker’s hand.

  “Come by anytime, gentlemen,” Mr. Baxter felt compelled to say. Not that he wanted them to visit often. Their little ruse would quickly fall apart if anyone realized neither man had an account at the bank.

  Of course, if they did have an account, it could be used to tie them together.

  He followed them to the door, trying to push the negative thoughts from his mind. He’d come too far to back out now. “Good day, gentlemen.”

>   As soon as they left his office he quietly shut the door. He returned to his chair and exhaled loudly. Just seeing Mr. Wheatly and Mr. Jefferson tied his gut in knots. He’d gotten himself into a mess. As soon as he acquired the Seevers’ warehouses he could quit this secret partnership. He’d have fulfilled his pledge. Hopefully they wouldn’t ask for more.

  He felt a little guilty about bringing the brothers down, but it would be their own fault for overextending themselves. The loan was honest. He would have no part in their financial ruin.

  Yet, their wish to expand their business was his salvation. Every property he’d proposed to Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Wheatly in the past had been promptly dismissed as being in unsuitable locations for their purposes. He had exhausted all his options. And the two gentlemen had been running out of patience.

  They were ready to move on the next part of their grand scheme. If all went well Mr. Baxter would begin his first political campaign in the near future, and the nation would be plunged back into war.

  Chapter 9

  Something about Mr. Baxter bothered him, but Matt couldn’t put his finger on what. Likely it could just be how he’d treated Seth and Hannah. Or it could be the fact he was a rich banker, not the type of men he usually associated with. He was more comfortable with George than with most of the white people in town.

  He walked up the steps of his house, and before he reached the porch the door flung open. Seth and Hannah grinned at him.

  “We cleaned the house, Papa,” Hannah announced. “We sorted the laundry!”

  Hannah took his hand and led him through the house to the two large laundry piles they had created one with light clothing and one with dark.

  It took a clever woman to convince children sorting laundry was fun.

  “Miss April is going to wash the laundry tomorrow and I’m going to help her and put it on the line to dry. She said I’m a good helper.”

  “You sure are.”

  Seth walked into the room and stood silently next to him. Laundry was women’s work, and he knew better than to ask his son if he helped. He was sure Miss April would have made him participate in the game or start in on another chore.