When the Black Roses Grow

by Angela Christina Archer

  “Emmalynn, speak at me, please, or at least look to me.”

  Not wanting to meet his gaze, I glanced to my right, and my eyes fell upon Adalene and the two old widows who now gawked at us as well.

  In a single instant, one thought punched the air from my lungs. Should Reverend Perris or anyone in the village already suspect me, all the planted seeds of suspicion would need to grow was a little water, water like the word of a deacon’s jilted daughter.

  If Julia accused Rebecca because of John, Mary could accuse me because of James.

  The sudden weight of implications too horrifying to face pounded down upon me. The room began to spin and the walls closed in on me.

  “We cannot speak to one another in this moment.” My breaths were heavy with panic.

  “Are you leaving? I can leave too. ‘Tis no reason for me to stay if you are not staying, and I would much rather spend the evening with you.”

  “No.” My voice cracked.

  “Emmalynn, I—”

  “No.” I shook my head with my eyes still fixed on the floor. “Do you not understand the ramifications for me should she find out about us?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but silenced himself as he realized the hidden meaning to my warning. One word from Mary, one single word from her or her father, and my fate would be the same as my mother’s.

  “My apologies. I never meant to upset you.” His words were whispers across his lips, and he recoiled from me, clasping his hands behind.

  “Miss Hawthorne, you forgot thy evening wrap.” Adalene sauntered toward us, giving James a sideways glance that made him cringe as she passed him.

  “But, that is not—”

  She glowered with a fierce gaze that not only chilled my blood, but told me not to disagree as she held out a brown and maroon knitted shawl. “You left it at the table.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “’Tis a pleasure to see you again, Mr. DeKane.” With her eyes fixed upon him, she shifted to my side and pressed her shoulder into mine.

  “And, you, as well.” He nodded as if to tip his hat, although one did not adorn his head. “I hope you two have a pleasant even—”

  “And what, may I ask, are you three speaking about?” Mary sauntered toward us with a half-smile twisted on her pale face. Her voice shuddered through my ears with a tone that bordered fury and confusion while the sway in her hips spoke of an evil that would haunt my nightmares.

  James glanced at her and frowned.

  “Good day to you, Miss Pruett.” Adalene’s brave gesture twisted in my stomach, knowing what Mary was capable of toward the old woman.

  Mary gazed down upon Adalene without moving her head—an odd sense of arrogance formed a crinkle in her forehead.

  “James, I asked you a question,” she said.

  James cleared his throat. His eyes twitched as he glared at her. “I simply wondered if Miss Hawthorne had interest in selling the cow she just acquired.”

  Mary tapped her foot against the hardwood floor, growling under her breath as she folded her arms across her chest. “And doth she?”

  I bit my tongue and shook my head.

  “Ah. Then I suppose you hath thy answer.” She raised one eyebrow and a wicked smile spread across her lips. “Although, you must know, Darling, I would never allow an animal, once owned by the daughter of the damned, on my property. You should know this.”

  “Of course, I know such. I was not inquiring for myself.”

  Adalene grabbed my arm and I closed my eyes. How I longed to unbridle my tongue and say all the words I desired most. And, yet, I could not.

  Mary’s eyes narrowed and she glanced at James. “Escort me home.” With her demand, she spun on her heel and jerked his arm. “I am rather uninterested with this marriage ceremony.”

  I wiggled from Adalene’s grip and fled through the door, stumbling down the stairs and falling to my knees.

  “Miss Hawthorne?” Adalene called after me. Her shoes scuffed through the dirt, stopping beside me.

  “Please, do not tell me thy thoughts. Just allow me to return to my home.”

  “Not until you agree to heed my warning.”

  I rose to my feet as tears streamed down my cheeks. “You believe I do not know the words sitting upon thy tongue? That I do not foresee the argument you wish to bestow?”

  “No, I believe you do not or else you would not look at him the way you do.”

  “And, how is that?”

  “You love him. Whether you know it or not, deep down, you do. You just hath not faced the truth yet.”

  An imaginary fist punched my chest. I did not know what I felt—perhaps, love, perhaps, a simple lust. Of course, no matter the difference, I could not admit to it.

  “I do not love him. I cannot love him. I know what lies in thy thoughts, the similarities of John, Julia, and Rebecca. I know the fate that awaits me should Mary even whisper an accusation.” I wiped the tears with my dirt covered hands, staining my face. “Please,” I begged. “Please, just allow me to return to my home.”

  After she nodded, I spun to leave, hesitating for a moment.

  “And, please do not visit me tomorrow. I only wish to be alone.”

  EIGHT

  The mid afternoon sun peaked through the closed shutters on my windows. A heavy guilt burdened, and I hung my head in shame. Birds chirped outside, their happiness fluttered from tree to tree as they enjoyed the sunshine and fresh, spring warm air.

  Just as I should enjoy it, opening the closed shutters to the world outside instead of shutting it out and recoiling from the beauty and glee.

  I cringed away from everything I should embrace, and withdrew from the world and everyone in it—especially James, who did not visit last night as promised.

  I did not want to think of his whereabouts or the hours that he spent in Mary’s company instead of mine. And, it was for this reason, I closed out the sun and closed out the beauty and contentment.

  You are not but an imprudent, ignorant young girl, Emmalynn.

  I fetched a tumbler glass off the table and threw it across the room. The delicate glass smashed against the wall, shattering into countless pieces, before raining shards down upon the vine that had nearly tripled in size.

  The thick stem jerked away from the threat, bold and swift, bouncing the tiny buds that had already begun to open into the beautiful, haunting black roses.

  As black as a lump of coal, and darker than the darkest of nights, the midnight hue glistened and reflected with a dark blue tint when light touched them—unnatural, and yet, breathtaking.

  Or, at least they were.

  Today, the soft and silk-like blooms wilted, as though they needed love from me that I could not give.

  A gentle knock rapped against the front door. My pulse quickened. Who visited this afternoon? Was it James? And, if so, why would he knock on the one door and not the other? Was someone else with him? Or, was this visitor someone else?

  I tiptoed to the door. My fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and the door creaked as I opened it. I caught my breath as the unexpected visitors stood before me and returned my gaze—Sheriff Corwin, Doctor Griggs, Deacon Pruett, and Reverend Perris.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Pruett.” Reverend Perris’s eyes twitched with suspicion, and the gruffness in his tone spoke of his irritation. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

  I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it slowly to gain my composure.

  “’Tis Miss Hawthorne, not Mrs. Pruett. My husband passed, and I am no longer their family.” I glared at the reverend as much as I could without drawing attention to the hatred I felt toward the man. “And, good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  The three other men all nodded and tipped their black brimmed ha
ts.

  “Mrs. Pruett—”

  Sheriff Corwin raised his hand, silencing Reverend Perris from addressing me a second time. “What the reverend meant was, please forgive our interruption to thy afternoon prayer, but we were wondering if we may speak to you for a moment. If you do not object, of course.”

  The reverend growled under his breath, but the sheriff ignored him—his attention focused solely upon me.

  My heart pounded, the deep thud deafened my ears.

  My eyes glanced between the men. I held my breath as I gazed into each of their eyes a few seconds before moving onto the next. What did they wish to know? And, how honest should my answers be to their questions?

  “Miss Hawthorne?” Sheriff Corwin pressed again.

  “Yes.” I shook my distracting thoughts away. “My apologies, I . . . yes, certainly, what can I do for you gentlemen today?”

  “Mrs. Pruett,” Reverend Perris interrupted. “An individual informed me that you convened with a peddler along the traveling road several days ago. Why did you meet him? How do you know him? And, did anyone else cross thy path?”

  My teeth grit together. “Call me Miss Hawthorne, please, as I said I am widowed.”

  Sheriff Corwin gave the reverend a swift, hard glance, clearly irritated for, yet, another interruption. “We apologize for troubling you this afternoon, Miss Hawthorne, however, we hath been advised of a few . . . disturbances . . . around the village, and we were wondering if we might ask you a few questions?”

  I nodded. “Certainly, you may.”

  “Did you encounter a strange peddler a few days ago?”

  “I met with a man to trade his cow for my goats. He seemed kind, though he did offer . . .” Confusion of how to explain the situation without painting the old man wrongly plagued me.

  “Mr. DeKane informed us he happened upon the two of you embroiled in an argument.” Deacon Pruett finally spoke, his Bible tucked under his arm. “He mentioned the man retreated as soon as he intervened.”

  “I believe the peddler was simply confused regarding the value of the goats. However, he decided the trade suited him and went along on his way. I never knew his name, and I do not know where he lives. The cow is in her pen, do you wish to see her?”

  “No, no. Thank you,” Sheriff Corwin nodded.

  “Did you see anyone else on the traveling road?” Reverend Perris fidgeted, his hands gestured toward the road and exaggerated his bold tone. “Anyone at all who was out for a stroll along the road?”

  I stared into his brown eyes. The crinkle in his forehead deepened with his furrowed brow. Lord, how I despise this man that stood on my porch.

  “Miss Hawthorne?” Sheriff Corwin stepped forward. “Did you see anyone else?”

  The image of a tall dark haired man and a young white blonde girl flashed in my memory. Instinct whispered in my ear and told me to lie. Why, I did not know. What did I care for the strangers, or if anything happened to them? Certainly, nameless faces who mattered very little.

  However, the man could hath done me harm, and yet, he did not. In protecting the young girl, perhaps his daughter, he fled away from me and protected me as well. Although considering he actually desired to protect me proved a foolish notion more than not, however, such was still a favor a part of me desired to show in return.

  “No.” I lied—my decision perhaps made in haste, but I did not care.

  “To lie is a sin against God.” Reverend Perris lunged forward and pointed his finger at my face.

  “I do not lie.”

  “I can see it in thy eyes and in thy hesitation. The Devil whispers on thy shoulder. God does not show favor to one who lies to another.”

  “And, what of thy lies against my mother?”

  “She was a witch.” His fingertip jabbed into my collar bone with a strength that forced me to take a step back to keep my balance.

  I retreated a few more steps, and the reverend further advanced toward me—an equal glare of loathing flashed through his eyes. I proved nothing more than a thorn in his side that he needed to remove.

  Sheriff Corwin intervened, and gently patted the reverend on his shoulders. “Why do you not give me and Miss Hawthorne a moment alone?”

  “I will not allow this woman to rudely question my loyalties to God and His work or to question me.”

  “Reverend, please give me a moment with Miss Hawthorne.”

  Before consenting to the sheriff’s request, he shoved his finger in my face. “You better aught learn to control thy anger and hate or thou will follow in thy damned mother’s footsteps.”

  I caught my breath as Doctor Griggs and Sheriff Corwin forced him down the pathway toward the road. While the doctor stayed with him, the sheriff released his arm and returned to my porch, alone, while the reverend ignored the hushed words bespoken and prayed.

  My skin crawled with an anxiety itch. On the cusp of condemning myself with my hatred for the man, I lacked the trait of knowing when to bite my tongue and when to open my mouth, and such fact could end up as my down fall in this very moment if I continued my careless behavior.

  “I am not what he says I am.” Tears welled in my eyes as Sheriff Corwin scaled the last step onto my porch. “I am not a witch with hate in her heart.”

  “I know thou are not, Miss Hawthorne, please calm down.”

  “I pray to God. I speak the word of God. I do not employ the devil, I shun him, I scorn him, I—”

  He held up his hands and smiled. “I know, I know. Please, Miss Hawthorne, just please calm down. Do not concern thyself with our visit today. We only seek information and we are asking everyone in the village. Please know we hath not singled you out.”

  I bit my tongue and nodded.

  Deacon Pruett cocked his head to the side. His shoulders stiffened as he clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. Another man I loathed, and the mutual feeling flickered in his eyes.

  “Did you see anyone else along the traveling road that morning you met the peddler?”

  “Only Mr. DeKane.” I nodded toward Deacon Pruett, but stared into Sheriff Corwin’s green eyes, set wide in his pale white face against his brown.

  “You did not see anyone else, and the peddler traveled alone?” Sheriff Corwin asked.

  “No, and yes, he was simply a lonely old man, albeit, a little spry for his age.”

  Sheriff Corwin chuckled a little at my mock. “And, hath you noticed anything abnormal around the village or felt sick or out of sorts?”

  “Only the capture of Titana a couple of days ago, but nothing else.” I smiled, hoping to hide my lies. “I . . . I hope the Goodwin sisters are feeling better.”

  “Sadly, they are still shackled to their beds. I doubt they will be free of any curse until the witch hangs from Gallows Hill.”

  “They are so young and should not hath to live such an existence. I shall pray for them.”

  He nodded. “Thank you for answering my questions. Good day to you.”

  As the two men spun to leave, my mouth opened before I considered the consequences. I wanted, nay, needed to know. “Sheriff Corwin, may I inquire as to why you ask these questions?”

  “I am simply trying to keep law and peace in Salem.”

  “Is the peddler in trouble for something he did?”

  “No, he is an old man who lives on the outskirts of the Salem. I hath known him for many years.” He nodded once more and tipped his hat. “Good day to you, Miss Hawthorne.”

  “Good day to you.”

  Sheriff Corwin trotted down the stairs while Deacon Pruett hesitated and faced me. “Miss Hawthorne, when Mr. DeKane happened upon you on the road, did you travel together? Or, did he continue on his own?”

  “I would not dare travel in sin, Deacon Pruett.” I drew in a
deep breath. “He went along his own way, and I, mine.”

  His eye twitched as though he doubted my answer, but he said nothing to argue. “And, thy encounter at the marriage ceremony?”

  I paused for dramatic effect, crinkling my forehead and narrowing my eyes as though lost in confusion over his question. If I did not rise quickly to defend myself, I held nothing to defend.

  “Do you mean regarding him inquiring the regard of the cow? He only asked if I intended to sell her. I do not know why. I never asked and my cow is not for sale.”

  “Thank you and good day to you.” Deacon Pruett nodded and trotted down the pathway. His broad shoulders stiff with his resentment toward me. Although his hatred was not that of Reverend Perris’s, he loathed me in his own right.

  All four men strode down the road toward the next house for questioning.

  Panic bubbled in my chest as they vanished from my view. I quickly flung my front door open and slammed it shut behind me. I leaned against the wood with my forehead, my breaths heavy as I tried to control them.

  What did I just do? Why did I just speak untruthfully to them?

  NINE

  My back slid down the wooden door until my rump hit the floor. I buried my face in the palms of my hands, rubbing my fingertips against the sides of my temple as I growled at myself.

  Why, why, why did I foolishly speak untruths?

  A sharp rap knocked on my back door.

  My body flinched.

  “Emmalynn,” James called out. The worry in his voice spurred a panic in his knock, and he pounded on the door again. “Emmalynn, open the door, please.”

  I rose to my feet and tiptoed across the room. An eerie squeak whined from the door as I opened it.