Because of Rebecca Page 17

  “Bu-but-”

  “Don’t stammer, Charlotte. I am capable of doing some things for myself.”

  “Certainly. Have you been cryin’, ma’am?”

  She swiped away the moisture with the back of her hand. “Nothing to fret about. Is that clear? I think I will lie down for a while.”

  With a worried look, Charlotte set the coffee cup back on the tray and curtsied. She collected it and scurried out of sight.

  Josephine carried Lucas into her room, put him on the bed and lay down beside him. She hummed a soft tune, watched him sleep until her own eyes grew heavy, and she too drifted off to sleep.

  Tiny hands, patting her cheeks and wet, slobbery drool dripping on her face woke her a few hours later.

  “Ma-ma.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “Mama isn’t here now. She’ll be back soon.” She sat up and he crawled to her.

  “Ma-ma.”

  He’d been calling her that off and on since Rebecca left and each time it made her heart ache. Mariah had never called her that, nor had she ever wanted it back then, but now, if she could only have had that memory.

  “Ma-ma.” He reached his hands up to her.

  “Mama isn’t here, Lucas. She’s on a trip, but hopefully she’ll be back today or tomorrow.”

  “Ma-ma.” He smacked his lips together this time and she picked him up. He laid his head on her shoulder and patted her.

  “I bet you’re hungry. Let’s go get you something to eat.” She carried him into the sitting room, but stopped suddenly in the doorway. Ancil sat at the small table where they ate their meals, having coffee while listening to an animated Charlotte. The maid hushed and looked at her with a worried expression.

  What had the girl been telling him?

  “Let me take him from you, Miss Josephine.” Charlotte rushed to her side and took Lucas. “I’m sure he needs changing. Like you need to change and fix your hair or you’ll be late for Mass.”

  Josephine’s spine stiffened at the mention of church, but she and Ancil always went to the daily Mass. Why should today be any different? “Ancil, I didn’t realize you were here. You should have had Charlotte wake me.”

  “I hadn’t been here long. She was telling me how you were up most of the night with him,” he explained. “If he’s having trouble sleeping I can give you something to rub on his gums that might help.”

  She smiled. “I must look frightful. Let me go change.”

  “Is everything all right with you, Josephine?” He stood and walked to her. “Charlotte said you were crying earlier.”

  “Can’t a woman cry?” she asked.

  “A woman yes, but Josephine Davis? It isn’t like you and it frightened the poor girl.”

  She took a deep breath. “Let me go change. I don’t want to keep you from Mass. Perhaps we can get some lunch later? I’d like to talk to you if you have the time.”

  He nodded.

  Once inside her room, she closed the door and hurried through her toiletry, splashing water on her face and fixing her hair before putting on a fresh dress.

  When she returned Charlotte sat at the table holding Lucas while he drank his bottle.

  “Doctor Gordon and I are leaving now.”

  “Will you be gone long, miss?” Charlotte didn’t look up when she spoke.

  Josephine glanced at Ancil. “An hour or so?”

  He nodded. “Maybe longer.”

  They walked through the hotel in silence, but once they were outside Ancil asked, “Are you sure you feel up to going to Mass today? You look troubled. Maybe it would do you more good to talk than hear a sermon.”

  “I am troubled.”

  “Perhaps we should get something to eat? If you care to come to my place, I can fix us something. It won’t be fancy, just some bacon and eggs, but at least you can speak in private.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know if I can tell you. You may not want to speak to me again once I do.”

  Ancil took her arm in his and patted her hand. “I doubt there is anything you can say that would make me feel that way.”

  She took a jagged breath and prayed he was right. They walked the distance in companionable silence. She drank in the fresh air and tried to relax, but her mind wouldn’t let her.

  When they finally reached his place, they went into the kitchen and he began preparing the food while she waited. “Are you certain I can’t help?”

  “Yes.” He cracked some eggs in a bowl and whisked them while the bacon fried. “So what has you so melancholy?”

  “I’m a hypocrite.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “Can you explain?”

  “I use my work with the church as a disguise to keep others from suspecting the truth about me. I’m a wretched sinner.”

  “We all are, Josephine, but what makes you feel you are so bad?” He opened the cabinet and took down two cups. “Do you want coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee.” She placed her hands on the table in front of her and stared at them. “I disgraced my family when I was a young girl. I had a child out of marriage. And that child died giving birth to Lucas.”

  He sat the cups down on the counter and stared at her. “L-Lucas isn’t Rebecca’s?”

  She shook her head. “My brother and his wife took me to Europe to hide my pregnancy and to save me from ruin. They took Mariah as their own, raised her, but left her in my care when they died.”

  “Does Rebecca know?”

  “No. She was too young to remember all that went on back then. As far as she knows, Mariah was her sister, not her cousin.”

  He reached for the coffee pot and poured them both a cup, bringing hers to the table. “Mariah is your daughter, but she died after giving birth to Lucas?”

  “Y—yes. She asked Rebecca to take him as her own before she died. At least that is what Rebecca told me. I-I wasn’t in the room for the birth. I-I was in the parlor praying for forgiveness and mercy. I gave up my child and when she was in my care, I allowed her to be seduced by a gambler who took her innocence. I wasn’t fit to be a mother when I had her, and I wasn’t fit when she needed me most.”

  The smell of burning bacon drew Ancil’s attention back to the stove. He turned and removed the frying pan from the stovetop and transferred the bacon to plates. “You’ve carried this burden so long, what has changed to make you reveal it now?”

  She smiled and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Lucas. I avoided touching him from the time he was born, but with Rebecca gone these last few days, I’ve been taking care of him. He calls me Mama.”

  Tears began to flow from her eyes. “Mama. The sweetest word ever spoken. I know he doesn’t realize what he’s saying. He’s only learning to talk, but hearing him say it... it... it worked its magic on me. It made me feel things I never allowed myself to feel when I gave birth to Mariah. I was scared and too worried about society’s convention back then, but I loved her father so. We would have been married if he hadn’t taken ill and died. I know Charles would have loved her and been proud of her.”

  She brushed away the tears, but new ones fell. “I was grateful to my brother and his wife for loving me enough to save my reputation, but I wasn’t as kind to Mariah. She was not even seventeen, Ancil. She was so young and naïve.”

  He dipped a portion of the grease from the pan and placed it back on the stovetop to heat. “We all were at that age.”

  Josephine nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “I blamed her for her naiveté, but maybe if I hadn’t taken her to New Orleans that winter this wouldn’t have happened. I blamed her for believing that gambler married her during the party she’d slipped off to attend with him. I was livid when I found her on that riverboat in his bed the next morning. Of course, he wasn’t there. He’d left moments before I arrived to get them breakfast.”

  He poured the eggs in the pan and stirred them. “I’m listening. Go on.”

  Josephine swallowed and remembered the pleased look on Mariah’s face that morni
ng. “She proudly showed me the piece of paper proclaiming her Mrs. Stuart Delaney, but I had my doubts. I hadn’t trusted the man from the moment we met. I forbade her to see him again, but she had a will of her own, and she’d slipped away in the middle of the night to be with him. In my anger, I forced her to get dressed and I dragged her from the boat despite her protests. When we got back to the hotel, I had our things packed quickly and we left on the next train.”

  She sobbed, covering her face with her hands. He placed the eggs on their plates and carried them over to the table. When he set them down, she looked at him again and he handed her his handkerchief. She dried her eyes and took another jagged breath.

  “Mariah cried for days. It didn’t matter what I said, nothing consoled her. She wrote letter after letter to New Orleans in search of her supposed husband but they were all returned to her unopened. In an attempt to put our minds at ease, I even made inquiry through a friend into the priest who signed the marriage certificate. As I had feared, he did not exist. There was, however, a man by that name known as a gambler and a close friend of Stuart Delaney’s. Mariah took the news badly. She stayed in her room for days. I hadn’t wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t allow her to spend the rest of her life searching for a man who never loved her.” Josephine sighed and shook her head. “Everything had finally settled down when we discovered she was with child. Thankfully Rebecca had finished her schooling and was home at that point.”

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “I’m sorry you had to carry this burden for so long, but you cannot blame yourself for Mariah’s death. There are many dangerous complications in childbirth. How did the doctor say she died?”

  “She hemorrhaged. The doctor was unable to stop the bleeding.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I’ve had deliveries end that way. They are never pleasant, but we do the best we can.”

  Josephine pulled her hand away and picked up her fork. She moved the eggs around on her plate, but her stomach rebelled. “I suppose I’ll have to tell Rebecca now.”

  “Not unless you absolutely want. Does she need to know the truth? Will it make a difference?”

  “Yes. She does. I don’t want to deny Lucas anymore. He’s my grandchild, Ancil. He’s my Mariah’s baby.”

  The tears formed in her eyes again and her vision blurred. She blinked and the tears spilled forth onto her cheeks. Ancil pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried.

  When her tears finally subsided and the last sign of them had been wiped away, he kissed her and pulled her into his arms again. After the kiss ended, he held her tenderly for a moment more.

  “Ancil?”

  “You are a very important woman to me, Josephine. I don’t want you to worry about the past. I want you to think about the future. Nothing you have said changes the way I feel about you. Is that clear?”

  “Feel about me?” Her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed.

  “Yes. I feel deeply for you.”

  She smiled and her eyes began to water again, but she blinked the unshed tears away. “Oh Ancil.”

  “A doctor’s life is lonely and tiresome. I can be called away for days at a time to care for the sick and even during the night. I couldn’t think of asking someone to join this life with me unless I was sure they understood what they were agreeing to share.”

  She nodded.

  “You’ve made a difference in my life since we met. Because of my profession I never allowed myself to believe I could have a family. But I believe you understand the required dedication because of your work with the church. You say it was a disguise, but I believe you do it with your heart. I’ve watched you. Your dedication is real. It may have started out as a way to redeem yourself¸ but I believe it is more now.”

  In spite of her resolve not to cry, the tears came again, but this time they weren’t of pain, but of joy. She dried them away as fast as she could with his already damp handkerchief. “I-I don’t know what to say, Ancil. I never dreamed anyone would want me in their life after what I’ve done.”

  He smiled. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I want you to think about it. I want you to be sure. But if you think you could build a life with a doctor I will be ready to hear your answer.”

  “Not just any doctor, but you, Ancil Gordon. That is who I’d be agreeing to build a life with.” She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Perhaps she did have something to show for her life after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A noise as loud as the cracking of a whip woke Jared. The hot sun streamed through the carriage window, and he moved a hand to shield his face from the sun until his eyes fully adjusted to the light. Beside him, Rebecca stirred.

  “Are we in Grenada yet?” she murmured, sitting up.

  “I don’t think so. Stay here.” He moved to the door, opened it, and climbed out of the hired carriage, which was parked, by the side of the road. The driver was nowhere in sight. The horses were still hitched, but the reins were tethered around a nearby tree. He walked around the carriage and noticed the right front wheel was cracked.

  “Damnation.” He stepped back to the open door. “Don’t be alarmed, but it looks like we’ve been deserted. I’m hoping the driver has only gone for help. There’s a broken wheel.”

  “What are we going to do?” Rebecca moved to the door to climb down, and he helped her out of the carriage.

  “We wait a little while to see if the driver returns, if not, we take our bags and ride the horses to the nearest town. You can ride can’t you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  “I’m surprised we slept through the incident, but the ride was bumpy. A jolt of the carriage when the wheel broke wouldn’t have seemed unusual as we slept.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Surely he’ll be back. He was so nice and helpful last night when we left Memphis.”

  Almost a little too helpful, Jared recalled. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted the hotel clerk’s offer of a hired carriage to take them to Grenada. With the broken wheel, they wouldn’t be arriving at Oak Hill before Delaney.

  “Let’s stand in the shade,” he suggested. “The humidity is already high, and we don’t have any water or food. I don’t want you getting ill. This isn’t the way I’d have imagined us starting our marriage.”

  “Nor I.” Her cheeks pinked and he felt a jolt when she took his hand. The look she gave him made his trousers tighten. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, making love to her with his mouth and tongue.

  She sighed when he reluctantly pulled away. “Forgive me for not doing this earlier, Mrs. Hollingsworth. I mean to kiss you first thing every morning for the rest of our lives.”

  The flush of her cheeks deepened and she leaned into him. “I’ll have to remember that, Mr. Hollingsworth.”

  Smiling, they walked to the tree line and the shade. Jared stopped abruptly when he spotted their driver lying in the tall grass about ten feet away from the trees. He couldn’t tell if the man was knocked unconscious, or if he was dead. A new carriage wheel lay near him.

  Rebecca gasped and clutched his hand tighter. “Is he dead?”

  “I don’t know.” He scanned the area, but didn’t notice anyone about. Their bags had still been secure to the back of the carriage, so he knew they hadn’t been robbed, yet. But if their driver was injured returning with the wheel he didn’t believe they were safe.

  “Let’s walk back to the carriage slowly,” he whispered. They turned but came face to face with two masked gunmen.

  “So we meet again, Hollingsworth,” one of the masked men said. “When did you start traveling with a lady? It’s so unlike you.”

  Not again, Jared silently groaned. How many times was he going to be mistaken for Rory on this trip?

  “Jared?” Rebecca turned to him, worry evident in her green eyes.

  “He must think I’m Rory.”

  “Quiet!” the man barked and jabbed the nose of his pistol into Jared’s ri
b cage. “I want my money back, you thievin’ horse’s ass.”

  “I don’t have your money,” he gritted through clenched teeth.

  “Sure you do or you wouldn’t have skedaddled out of town after I cut you.”

  “I tell you I’m not the man you’re looking for. My name is Jared Hollingsworth, not Rory Hollingsworth. Rory is my cousin. We were unfortunately graced with the same looks.”

  “Shut up.” The man shook his gun at them. “I don’t want to hear none of your lyin’. I heard enough of that swallow in Bixby where you swindled me out my winnings. Now hand it over.”

  Jared glared at the man. Was that where Rory got the money to pay back Delaney? He took a deep breath to still his temper. He had to stay calm. Perhaps if he were rational this man would see the error he was making. “I tell you I’m not Rory Hollingsworth.”

  The other gunman snorted and lifted his bandana up high enough to expose his mouth and spit tobacco juice. He wiped the excess away with the back of his hand. “Sure looks like ’im.” He spat again, repeating the process. “Same eyes, same hair.” He walked toward Jared and sniffed. “Don’t smell like ’im though. He smells too pretty, like his lady friend here, all lemony.”

  “It’s verbena.” The man’s sweaty stench surrounded them and Rebecca’s nose twitched. “Do you want some?”

  He laughed. “Rufus, you hear her? She wants to know if I want to smell all pretty like her.”

  “Shut up you idiot. Now they know my name,” his partner roared.

  The other man snickered. “If he’s Hollingsworth he should already know it. Come to think of it, why are we wearing these bandanas?”

  “Get over here.”

  The man loped back as ordered to stand beside Rufus, and he smacked him in the back of the head. “Now shut up.”

  “I know where Rory is.” Jared silently prayed the man would take the bait. “I can take you to him.”

  Rufus shook his gun at Jared. “I know where he is too and I’m lookin’ at him, ain’t I? We’re not going nowheres until I get my money. So stop your blatherin’.”