I informed him if he comes near me again I will slice him ear to ear, for I would rather hang than be forced to succumb to his disgusting desires ever again. He was angry. Angrier than I have ever seen him. But he left me alone.
Later, I heard Miss Maddy crying, so I crept from the storeroom and listened outside their bedroom door. Henry informed her we are moving back to Georgia to live with his parents again on Penbrook plantation. Miss Maddy pleaded, but Henry insisted he has had enough of the North. He said that fool Lincoln will probably be elected president, and if that happens, the southern states will secede from the Union. He will not live apart from his own countrymen.
Miss Maddy asked him what will become of me.
Henry said perhaps in the South, I’ll learn my place. But I will never believe I am less of a human being than he is just because I have a trace of Negro blood. As a matter of fact, I am more human than Henry Penbrook could ever hope to be.
My greatest hope is that I will be able to speak with Thomas again before we return to Georgia. Penbrook plantation sits only twenty miles from Thomas’s home. If we move back there, he is bound to learn the truth about me, and he will no longer look at me with love in his eyes. I can’t bear the thought of his hatred.
I tremble at what is to become of me back in the South. I want to run away and never come back. But who will look after Miss Maddy if I go?
Chapter Three
December 1860
Cat tiptoed through the dark house, taking care not to disturb the loose board in front of the door. She felt sure Henry had purposely loosened the slat to alert him should she try to sneak out. But Cat was too clever for him. She knew where to step to avoid the creaky spot beneath the woven rug.
Besides, nothing would keep her from sneaking out tonight. Thomas Hanson had returned to his uncle’s home and would remain through the holidays. Three whole months.
Finally, an answered prayer. And she planned to get to him before Henry did. If Thomas was to learn about her bloodline, he would hear about it from her.
Perhaps she would give God another chance. After all, Henry hadn’t touched her in months, and she would see Thomas one more time before Henry and Miss Maddy moved the family back to Georgia.
The familiar ache began in the pit of her stomach and rose to her chest at the thought of returning to Penbrook plantation. Impatiently, she pushed it away. Tonight wasn’t the night to worry about that. Tonight she only cared about feeling Thomas’s strong arms about her, listening to his wonderful stories and dreams for the future. Their future. She would allow herself to live the dream. One more time.
Please, let him be there. Please.
She stepped into the darkness and ran toward the woods that separated Henry’s property from Mr. Hanson’s.
Breathing heavily, she reached a small clearing in record time and smiled. Thomas paced in front of the barn. Her heart leapt as she recalled the last time they were together, six long months ago.
She pressed her fingertips to her lips and could almost feel his soft kisses.
“I’ll be a planter, just like my pa,” Thomas had said, passing along his excitement to Cat. “And you’ll be my wife. . .the lady of my home.”
He had pulled straw from her hair and gazed longingly into her eyes as she echoed his words of love. Now she understood the desire she had seen there. She’d seen a similar look in Henry’s eyes countless times. Cat pushed aside the unsettling comparison and gathered air into her lungs to compose herself. She smoothed her trembling hand over her hair. It felt strange to be outside, with her hair flowing down her back, but Thomas loved it that way, so she had loosened her braids and let them blow in the wind. Closing her eyes, she conjured the feeling that his hands running through her tresses had evoked in her.
“Thomas,” she whispered into the darkness as her footfalls brought her within sight of him.
Without a word, he turned and quickly closed the distance between them, gathering her into his arms. He had filled out in the past six months, and Cat could feel the hardness of his chest, shoulders, and arms as he held her.
“Oh, I prayed you’d be here,” she breathed against his ear.
He pulled away slightly and studied her face in the moonlight before grabbing her hand and leading her into the barn.
“Where else would I be?” He shut the door behind them. “I tried to get a message to you, but there was no opportunity. I hoped you’d feel my presence and come to me.” He crushed her against his chest and sank his fingers into the thick mane down her back.
A soft sigh escaped Cat’s lips as she relished his tenderness. “I missed you so much.”
He released her for a moment--only long enough to pull her to a corner of the barn. When they were seated, he gathered her close once more. “I love you, Cat. I can’t go back to Atlanta without you. I intend to speak to my pa about a betrothal.”
Cat gasped and pulled away to stare up at him. “Oh, Thomas. Do you think they’ll let us? I only just turned fifteen. And anyway, Henry sold the farm. We’re going back to Georgia directly after Christmas.”
Light shone in his eyes and he grinned. “That’s perfect. Do you know how close we’ll be? Why, Penbrook is only twenty or so miles away. That’s merely a day’s travel by horse and buggy. I could escort you to parties and court you properly.”
Cat’s heart leapt and she couldn’t help but catch some of his excitement as she envisioned the two of them dancing and sitting in the parlor. But reality penetrated her dreams with heart-wrenching clarity. Who knew how long she had before Henry revealed the truth to Thomas? Then she would lose him forever.
As if sensing her hesitation, he released a frustrated breath and pulled her close once more. “What is it? You still share my feelings, don’t you?”
“Oh, Thomas, of course I do. Don’t ever doubt it. Even for one second. I’ll love you until the day I die.”
“So I may speak to Henry about courting you once you return to Georgia?”
Again, Cat felt a sense of dread fill her. Henry would never allow it. He would tell Thomas the truth. Then Thomas would hate her. Tears welled in her eyes as she lifted her chin and pressed against him.
“Kiss me, Thomas. For now, let’s not talk about it. Please? Just hold me.”
With a moan, Thomas covered her mouth with his. Caught in the sensations spreading through her, Cat scarcely noticed when he lowered her to the soft hay. She hesitated only a moment. Then, because she loved him more than life, she allowed his caresses. She felt his love in each kiss. . .each caress. . .and she knew she would refuse this man nothing. He loved her as she loved him. Though they would never marry, she would allow herself this one night of his love. Then she would let him go.
Later, she lay in his arms and wept as he caressed her hair.
“I’m sorry, Cat,” he whispered as her tears fell upon his bare chest. “I should have waited. I had no right. Forgive me. We’ll run away and get married tonight. We won’t even wait for permission. I’ll make this right.”
Unable to speak for the pain clogging her throat, Cat wept harder and buried her face in his shoulder.
“Darling, please. Calm down.” Thomas’s voice held a tone of near panic, and his grip around her tightened. “I’ll never forgive myself for taking advantage of your innocence.” He reached into his trouser pocket and produced a handkerchief.
Cat raised up on her elbow and dried her eyes. “Thomas, there is something you must know. It will change everything, but before I tell you, promise me that you’ll always believe I love you more than life itself.”
“As I love you.” He pressed her palm against his lips. A frown creased his flawless brow as she slipped her hand gently from his. “You can tell me anything, Cat. Especially now. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”
Cat’s heart ached, knowing the love in his eyes would soon change to contempt and anger and, in all likelihood, hatred.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her confession became a gasp
as the barn door flung open, allowing frigid air to blow inside.
“Pa!” Still bare to the waist, Thomas shot to his feet. He stepped in front of Cat’s unclothed body to shield her from two pairs of glaring eyes. Mr. Hanson stood in the doorway with Henry.
“What are you doing with my girl?” Henry demanded. Ignoring Thomas’s effort to guard her, Henry stepped around the young man and grabbed Cat’s upper arm roughly. In spite of herself, she cried out in startled pain. Standing naked before the men, shame filled her, and she clutched her clothing close with her free hand.
“P–please,” she said, her lips trembling from cold and fear. “M–may I dress?”
“Shut up, slut.” Henry raised his hand and brought it hard across her face. The force of the attack sent her crashing to the ground.
Thomas knelt beside her, trying to cover her with her clothing. He glared up at Henry. “What kind of man are you, sir? I’ve half a mind to call you out.”
“Tread lightly, Son,” his father cautioned. “You don’t know the whole truth here.”
Attempting to shield her nudity from the other two men, Thomas helped her to her feet, then stood in front of her. “I know that a young lady has just been accosted by this. . .this. . .”
The blood left Cat’s face at the filthy word Thomas used to describe Henry. She recognized the warning glint in Henry’s eyes, but undaunted, Thomas continued. “This lady is unclad and freezing, and you gentlemen haven’t the decency to avert your gaze and allow her to dress.”
“Put on your clothes,” Henry commanded, jerking his head toward an empty stall. Cat knew from the darkness in his eyes that the violence he was holding back from Thomas, he would unleash on her as soon as he had her alone.
“The least you can do is allow her some privacy,” Thomas said, his words a command. The older men looked away, but not before Cat saw Henry’s face redden with fury.
Cat dressed quickly, watching the unsteady rise and fall of Thomas’s shoulders. If only she could go to him once more before he learned the truth.
As if sensing her need for his strength, Thomas moved to her, gathering her to him before Henry could grab her again. “Pa, I know we’re young, but I love Cat. I’m sure you’ll agree that she’s been compromised, and we have no choice but to marry right away.
Mr. Hanson regarded Cat for a moment. The absence of anger in his blue eyes caused more pain than a thousand lashes. His gentle gaze told her he knew she loved Thomas, but he would never be hers. All she could do was prevent Thomas from fighting his pa and breaking his ma’s heart. The outcome of tonight’s disaster lay securely in Cat’s hands. She nodded to Mr. Hanson, then moved from the protection of Thomas’s arms.
Lifting her chin, she turned to face her beloved, relishing the love in his eyes one last time.
She squared her shoulders and gathered a deep breath. “Thomas, it’s not possible for us to marry. You haven’t compromised me.” She stepped toward Henry.
His expression changed to confusion. “What do you mean? Don’t you see? We have to get married now. They won’t stop us.”
“Yes, they will.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. Her heart nearly broke at the confusion she found there.
Henry took her by the arm and led her roughly to the door. “I don’t mind young Thomas using my girl.” He regarded Mr. Hanson with a leering grin. “But if he got her with child, I’m not paying a stud fee.”
“Must you be so coarse?” Thomas’s father scowled. “The boy made an unfortunate mistake.”
A short laugh escaped Henry’s throat. “No hard feelings. Young Thomas couldn’t help himself. These black wenches have a way about them white men can’t resist. Especially this one. Believe me, I know from experience.”
Bile rose to Cat’s throat as he turned his dark gaze on her, eyes flashing with the threat of what she knew was to come.
“What do you mean, calling Cat a black wench?” Indignation edged Thomas’s tone. “You dare compare her to a common--”
“The girl is a slave.” Mr. Hanson released a resolute sigh and clapped his hand down on Thomas’s shoulder. “She belongs to Mr. Penbrook, Son. You know Mrs. Penbrook’s family is outspokenly abolitionist. She insisted they raise this girl as a white. Against his better judgment, Henry graciously allowed his wife her fancy. But when he realized the girl was coming to meet you, he did what any respectable gentleman would do and informed me immediately. And it’s a good thing he did before you made quite an embarrassing error. Taking your pleasure is one thing. . .and understandable for a young man of your age. But imagine if you had followed through with a marriage. Though it would not have been binding, obviously, it most certainly would have humiliated your uncle and abused the hospitality of his home. Not to mention the embarrassment your mother would have been forced to endure.”
Cat stared at the tops of her boots during Mr. Hanson’s inflectionless discourse, but as silence filled the barn, she could no more have kept her head down than she could drain the Negro blood from her veins. She lifted her gaze to find Thomas staring at her in horrified disbelief. Her stomach sank. Somehow she had hoped. . .of course, it had been a foolish hope, but a dream nonetheless. She had hoped Thomas loved her enough to overlook her one-eighth Negro blood.
A shudder coursed through her. She rubbed her arms. Looking down at her own pale skin, she felt tears prick her eyes. Wasn’t she as white as any one of the men in the barn? Yet they stood, as though better than she, accusing her, condemning her for being in love with the wrong color of man. Did they expect her to fall in love with and marry a black man? An ignorant slave? God forbid. There was no place for her. She was too black to be white and too white to be black.
*****
I’m too white to be black and too black to be white. I’m nothing.
Andy almost dropped the journal as he read the words he had spoken of himself countless times. From his bed, he glanced out the window into the darkness illuminated by intermittent flashes of lightning. Rain beat insistently against the glass, demanding attention. Striding to the window, Andy glanced out and frowned at the water standing in the streets. If the rain didn’t let up soon, he’d be stuck in the room another day. Not that he minded reading the diaries, but he had hoped to visit with Miss Penbrook as soon as possible to fill in a few details. So far, he had read Madeline’s and Cat’s accounts of the years living in Missouri--fascinating reading, but not much he could use in writing Miss Penbrook’s memoirs.
Readers were interested in her travels, her rise to fame as a poet and author of novels. They wouldn’t care about the slave girl’s love for a white boy. Henry’s abuses might be of interest to some, especially Negroes who screamed for civil rights for their southern-born brothers and sisters, and the northern whites out to prove they weren’t like their southern counterparts. But those weren’t things he could put into print if he expected to keep his job. He was not interested in civil rights as a movement, nor the NAACP. All he cared about was making a respected name for himself so he could hold his head high.
Shaking himself from his least favorite subject, Andy gathered a long breath, rubbed his gritty eyes, and started to return to the diaries, when his stomach rumbled. Remembering the promised slice of lemon pie Mrs. Purdue had wrapped up after supper, he decided to sneak downstairs and grab the snack before resuming his reading.
Quiet darkness met him when he stepped into the hallway. He pulled off his shoes and set them inside his room, then tiptoed down the stairs, grimacing when the next-to-last step groaned beneath his feet. A glance at the grandfather clock at the bottom of the stairs revealed a few minutes past midnight. He blinked in surprise at the late hour. Perhaps he’d better turn in when he got back to his room.
When he reached the telephone, he paused, debating whether to try to reach Lexie or wait until morning. She’d been pretty clear the marriage was over after the last time he’d failed to come home all night. He’d truly been working. Oh, he didn’t blame her for refusing to believe h
im. He hadn’t exactly been a choirboy during their marriage. But it had been a full year since his resolve to remain faithful to his wife. He loved Lexie. He had to find a way to get her back when he got home.
The urge to speak to her was too strong to resist, so he grabbed the receiver and put in a call to Chicago.
A relieved sigh escaped him when she picked up after a series of rings.
“Hi, Honey,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the Purdues. “It’s me.”
“What time is it?” she asked, sleep thick in her voice.
“Midnight here, so I guess it’s eleven there.”
“It’s a little late to be calling, don’t you think?”
Andy frowned at her cool tone. His stomach dropped at the thought that he might just have lost her this time. “So, how are you, Lex?”
“Listen, Andy, I know you didn’t call me all the way from Georgia just to see how I am.”
“I don’t know why I called. I guess I just needed to hear your voice. I love you, Honey.”
A short laugh escaped through the line, burning Andy’s ear. “Mama isn’t sure you even have the capacity to love me.”
“I thought your mother wanted you to take me back. When did she go over to your side?”
“Oh, Andy. Maybe that’s the problem. There shouldn’t be your side and my side. Shouldn’t we be in this life together? Working to make a living? A family?”
A knot formed in Andy’s stomach. Why bring up a family when she knew that was never going to be? “I guess so.”
“We have some things to discuss. Do you know when you’ll be home?”
“In a few days. Miss Penbrook is a little addled. I’m trying to piece my story together through old diaries and bits of conversation with her, but so far I don’t have much.” A sharp, insistent knocking interrupted his thought. “Listen, Honey, I have to go. Someone’s at the door.”
The Color Of The Soul (The Penbrook Diaries) Page 5
