East of Orleans

by Renee' Irvin

  Jules looked at Isabella. “Stay here, I’ll be back.”

  Isabella watched Jules until he disappeared into the house. In a few minutes, he came back with a cobalt blue bottle in his hand.

  “What’s that?” Isabella asked.

  “Mrs. Chandler said to give him two spoons full of this until doc can get over to the tavern. She said he should be there before dark.”

  Isabella took the bottle from Jules’s hand and removed the top. She sniffed and made a face. “It smells awful!”

  “If it don’t smell bad, it won’t do him any good. The worse it smells, the quicker he’ll get well.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “I thought everybody knew that. Smell it again and see if you think it smells bad enough to do him some good.”

  Isabella glanced at Jules with uncertainty, then removed the top again and smelled the tonic. “Shew!”

  Jules let out a loud cackle.

  “Jules McGinnis, I ain’t ever gonna believe another word you say to me!”

  “Little darling, I’ve heard that before,” he said and broke up laughing.

  Jules stopped the buggy in front of the tavern on Bay Street. “I best get going. I’m sure doc will be over soon as he gets back.”

  Isabella climbed down from the carriage, paused, then turned around. “Where do you live?”

  “That’s a damn good question. What have you heard?”

  “I ain’t sure.”

  “Lately, darling, wherever I hang my hat,” Jules said with a tilt of his head and a slow smile.

  “I did hear you say that you bought a whore a house on Oglethorpe.”

  “You been eavesdropping?”

  “No, I just heard you when I came into the stable. Do you love her?”

  “You ask too many questions; questions that ain’t any concern of yours.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Darling, it takes a lot more than that to upset me.” Jules put his hat on his head.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For helping me again.”

  “You’ll repay me someday,” Jules said and winked as he rode away.

  The morning after Doc Chandler left Jesse’s bedside, Jesse awoke to find Isabella asleep on the floor.

  “Now dat wuz something I didn’t expect to find.”

  Isabella opened her eyes and looked at Jesse’s hollow face.

  “You find a snake or a ghost in your room? Is dat what you doin’ here?”

  “You took your medicine this morning?”

  “I reckon.”

  “What you mean, you reckon? You know if you took it or not.”

  “Yeah, if it makes you feel any better, I did. Don’t know what you went and got da doc for. He got better things to do than to see after me.”

  “Are you thirsty?”

  “Yeah, I’se kinda thirsty.”

  Isabella got up, went over to a small table and poured Jesse a glass of water from the pitcher. Jesse didn’t have pneumonia, but he did have scarlet fever. She knew that in a day or two he would want to go back to work. But Doc Chandler told Isabella that Jesse’s heart had been damaged. He could not work as hard as before. If he did, it could kill him. She decided not to tell this to Jesse because that might kill him first.

  Now, more than ever, Isabella was forced to make a quick decision. Not only did she need to pay off the farm, now she had to get Jesse out of the tavern. She glanced at him and thought she could never tell him what she was about to do. Nobody can do this but me.

  “Everything’s gonna be alright,” said Jesse.

  “Yes, everything’s gonna be alright.” Isabella forced a smile and left the room.

  Isabella ran up the stairs, opened the shutters in her bedroom and looked out across the river. She stood and watched innocent children play down below. It seemed that all her young life had been taken away, gone, with no hope of a future. Not one that she had dreamed about anyway. She was tired. She wanted to be somewhere else, but there was nowhere else for her to go. Maybe if she married Jules McGinnis, she could save her family name. Most girls that ended up in her circumstances were looked upon forever as poor white trash. Isabella lay down on the bed and quickly fell into an exhausted asleep.

  Jacqueline lay across her bed with her skirts gathered up around her. She felt the presence of someone enter the room and became aware of the sweet smell of tobacco. Jules McGinnis pulled the door shut and smiled.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Jacqueline.

  Jules laughed. “What am I doing here? This goddamn house is mine and every fucking thing that’s in it.”

  “Priscilla! Priscilla!”

  “You can call her all you want, but she won’t be coming.”

  “What did you do with her?”

  “I didn’t do nothing but give her a little money and told her to take the rest of the day off.”

  “She’ll come back.”

  “So. Undress.”

  “I wish you would die,” Jacqueline said, narrowing her eyes.

  Jules walked over to the bed and looked into the eyes of the woman who had betrayed him. His intent was obvious. He seemed to take pleasure in her pain.

  “I’m bleeding,” her voice begged.

  “That ain’t never stopped you before.”

  “I’d rather die than have sex with you.”

  “I ain’t giving you a choice.”

  Jacqueline felt herself sink into someone else. She slowly undressed before the man who held the gun on her. She heard Jules’s clothes hit the floor and she felt the weight of his body roll on top of her. He rode her so hard that she barely felt her fingernails, clenched tight, dig into the palms of her hands. She kept her eyes closed until he demanded that she look at him and she was still looking when he finished. Jacqueline lay there and cried while she bled all over the fine white linen sheets.

  Jules got up, dressed, and walked out of the house.

  The days that passed seemed uneventful. Jacqueline did not mention a word of what had happened to Patrick. For a short time, she convinced herself that it did not matter, then as the days wore on, she believed that it hadn’t happen. It was a dream, all a dream, and her life was going to be fine. Not all the men that who touched her and paid her mattered; it did not happen, they did not exist.

  Patrick moved into the house on Oglethorpe, much to the shock and dismay of the Hancocks and the Bakers. In between his business at the tavern, now renamed Patrick’s, he cooked for Jacqueline, looked after the grounds of the house and tried to make her happy. As happy as Jacqueline could be.

  Kate O’Brien opened her mouth wide, but words would not come out. She could not believe what Isabella was telling her. The initial shock of Isabella marrying Jules McGinnis was too much for Kate. Her sad eyes begged Isabella. “Jules is a gambler, Isabella, and he has a horrible reputation with the women, and he is more than twice your age.” Her warnings fell on deaf ears.

  Isabella pulled up in a buggy at the front of the church. Never had she felt so all alone. There was no one attending her wedding except the minister and his wife.

  When the time came, Isabella handed Elora to Kate, and looked back at Kate when she walked to the door with her bag to meet Jules. He was going to take her to New Orleans. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she would not look back, she would not think about it. This was a new life for her and she would be happy. Even if she had to force herself.

  “Jesse will be angry when he finds out that you’ve done this and not told him,” Kate said.

  “Jesse ain’t much better than he was,” Isabella said. “You’ve seen how weak he is. He ain’t got any say in what I do. Besides, this is best for everyone.”

  “Everyone?” Asked Kate.

  “That’s right, everyone.” Isabella let out a gasp, ran and threw her arms tight around Kate’s neck and cried.

  “If you’re determined to do this, I’ll take care of the baby and Jesse while yo
u’re gone. Just take care of my girl, will you?” Kate broke down in tears and walked out of the room, gently carrying the baby.

  Isabella stepped out onto the narrow tabby steps and saw an old woman leaning up against the wall. At first, Isabella thought that she had imagined the woman, but she was still there, an eerie smile on her face.

  “Mathilde,” whispered Isabella. “I thought you were dead.”

  Isabella ran and looked back. Mathilde had vanished.

  She married Jules knowing that he did not love her any more than she loved him. But she didn’t care. The man that she loved would never want her, especially now. Isabella knew why she married Jules, but why he married her was somewhat of a mystery to her. Regardless, if this is what it took to save her mama and granny’s house then she certainly could have done worse. And she also knew that scrubbing floors and waiting tables would never earn her enough money to pay off the mortgage on the farm, not even if she worked until she was a hundred.

  If her day was weakened by uncertainty, it was strengthened by the beauty of her dress. Never had a wedding gown been more magnificent. Jules had purchased the gown himself even though a few last—minute alterations were needed. The cream-colored gown was made of layers of pleated silk organza that lay on top of a heavy ivory satin. The neckband was appliquéd lace and finished with pleated organdy ruffle, as were the sleeves. The back of the dress boasted an enormous tournure that was lightly embroidered with pearls and satin bows. A of pleated lace was attached under the train with streamers of pearls and waxed lilacs. She wore a long veil of silk tulle and had a sixpence in her ivory satin shoe for good luck.

  Isabella McGinnis stared out the train window as she and Jules rode to New Orleans. Jules talked and she smiled a little. He told her of things he had done as a young man, the war years, and his lucrative cotton business. She couldn’t have cared less, but she guessed it was important for a woman to learn what her man had done, especially if that man was her husband.

  During the long train ride to New Orleans Isabella wrote a letter to her mama and granny telling them that she had married Jules.

  Dear Mama and Granny,

  I’ve news that I can’t wait to tell both of you. Today at the First Baptist Church in Savannah, I married Jules McGinnis. I know this comes as a shock to both of you, but please understand I did this for the good of us all. Besides, Jules is a kind and generous man and I know he will be good to me. I wish more than anything that you could have been here for the wedding, but know I was thinking of you. I love you both more than anything.

  Isabella

  That night Mr. and Mrs. McGinnis dined at the famous Bourbon Orleans on shrimp creole, rice and praline peach ice cream. And drank fine champagne.

  “Tell me everything about you. Your dreams, all you’ve ever wanted to be,” said Jules.

  Isabella lowered her eyes. “I can’t say I have any dreams. After my daddy died, it was enough just to be able to eat and stay alive.”

  Jules listened to every word and nodded sympathetically. “Did they ever find out who killed your daddy?”

  Isabella said softly, “No.”

  The candle on the table flickered between them. Jules reached for her hand.

  “Darling, I can’t take the place of your daddy, but I will make you a good living.”

  “Do you love me?” asked Isabella.

  His eyes met hers. “Darling, you know this marriage ain’t about that.” There was silence for a moment. An expression of concern came over his face. “I care for you. I have ever since the day I saw you in Ellen Scarborough’s hat shop.” He smiled and reminisced, “Never could get you off my mind, and who would have ever thought here we are now.” Jules thought for a moment. “You still have that note I wrote you when I sent you that bonnet?”

  Isabella nodded slightly.

  That night Isabella took forever preparing for bed. Jules had left her to go downstairs to the hotel saloon to play a hand of poker. “I will leave you to have some time for yourself,” he told her and then kissed her on the cheek.

  When he returned he sat down on the bed and pulled her next to him. They lay face to face, just staring at each other, not sharing anything but the quiet of the night and the flicker of a candle.

  “What do you want from me?” Isabella whispered.

  “That’s up to you.” Jules pulled down the straps of Isabella’s ivory satin gown. “Mrs. McGinnis, you are a beautiful woman,” he whispered in her ear.

  His interest was intense now.

  Isabella fought back the tears.

  Jules McGinnis was a man of the world, but never had he been seen with a grin on his face like the one he had the next morning. Jules left the room early to let Isabella sleep. He was sitting at a table in the dining room, reading the paper when his new wife entered to join him for breakfast. His face was amused as he watched her sit down next to him. His watched her looking at the platters of fried bacon, sausages, and poached eggs going by. The smell of hot croissants and chicory coffee filled the room.

  “How are you this morning, Mrs. McGinnis?” he said with a slow grin.

  “I can’t complain none,” Isabella replied, never looking at him.

  “There’s one thing I forgot last night,” Jules said. Isabella took a deep breath and gave him a nervous look. Jules laughed. “I have a little gift I bought for you.” Jules reached inside his vest pocket and removed a small blue box. He handed it to Isabella. She opened the box and saw a brilliant three-carat, rose-cut diamond ring set in platinum.

  Isabella’s eyes widened and she smiled. She placed the ring on her left ring finger.

  “You like it, honey? You ought to; it cost me a fortune,” Jules said as he lit a cigar.

  “Oh, Jules, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.”

  “Well, good. I’m tired of seeing you so sad all the time. All of that’s gonna change.” He glanced at her. “You remind me of the boys that came back to the South after the war. I want you to be happy. I ain’t a young man anymore and I want my life to be different.”

  “Do you expect me to have babies?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you, Mrs. McGinnis. It’s enough to have you. But if it happens, I’ll be proud.”

  Isabella fell silent. She thought about Tom.

  It was a mystery to Patrick why Jules McGinnis had put the house on Oglethorpe in Jacqueline’s name, but indeed, he had. Patrick’s feet seemed to lift off the ground when, moments later, he ran inside the Oglethorpe mansion and screamed Jacqueline’s name.

  Priscilla, with outstretched arms was carrying crisp bed linens down the hall when Patrick almost knocked her down. She leaned her head into Jacqueline’s bedroom and said, “Ise don’t know what’s wrong with Mister Patrick, but he acting like the war is over and we won. Lord, I think everybody in dis house done lost dere mind.” Priscilla put the fresh sheets on a chair and pulled the soiled ones from Jacqueline’s bed. Priscilla mumbled, “First, Mister Jules brings us here and buys us dis fine house, den you be bad and runs him off. Now, Mister Patrick, he done moved hisself here. Lord, I don’t know what’s bout to happen next. I tell youse I better off not to know. And I thought them Yankees wuz crazy.” Jacqueline smiled as Priscilla made the bed and gave Patrick a sidelong glance as she left the room.

  Jacqueline could hear the snips of the gardener’s clippers outside. She smelled the fresh brewed chicory coffee that Priscilla had made a few minutes earlier. Sitting at her dressing table, Jacqueline admired her face from every angle in the mirror. She leaned forward and dusted her chest with a perfumed powder. Patrick stepped up behind her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Jacqueline watched as he removed a pistol from his holster and placed it on the table.

  “I could stand here all day and look at you.”

  “Then how would you find the time to do all the things you do around here?”

  Patrick began to strip off his coat and his shirt. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

/>   Jacqueline looked puzzled. “Is it good or bad?”

  Patrick seemed about to burst with joy. “Close your eyes. Now imagine walking into this beautiful house, hearing the sounds of children playing, sun shining through the leaded glass, flowers blooming in every room. Time passes and you never have to leave.”

  Jacqueline opened her eyes. “Never?” she whispered in disbelief.

  “Never. I learned about this just this morning. I found where the deed was recorded. It read, Jules Madison McGinnis, grantor, to Jacqueline Marie Rousseau, grantee, the house on Oglethorpe for the consideration of one dollar, love and affection. Paid in Full.”

  Jacqueline stood up. She walked out onto the iron balcony and looked over at the park. She hated this time of year. The flowers were gone and leaves were rotting all around her. What she had just heard was wonderful, but saddened her at the same time. She took another look, blinked away the tears, then turned around and walked back inside.

  Patrick searched her eyes. Jacqueline knew there were words that he wanted her to say. But she could not say them. She knew also that there were feelings that he wanted her to feel, but she did not feel them. In an instant, she changed the look on her face and tried to smile. After all, Patrick O’Brien was the handsomest man that she had ever seen and he loved her. She could read it in his eyes. Finally, a man who truly loved her, a man who would give her a child and a name. Jacqueline glanced down at the glisten of the ring on her hand and removed it. She placed it the rosewood box that kept her from her pain. She would never be foolish again. With Jules out of her bed and Patrick in her life, she could bury all images of Jules forever.

  Jacqueline heard a thump outside the door. She ran to open it. There stood Priscilla. “Miz Jacqueline, I jist came to see what you wanted for supper.”

  “Supper, my foot. You know you’ve been standing outside that door with your ear up against it. I am sick and tired of you spying on me. You are worse than those two biddies next door.” Jacqueline looked angrily at Priscilla. “I ought to have you pack your things and put you out of here.”