Brides of Arizona, page 45
“Mrs. Sawyer.” Now that the ordeal was over, exhaustion made Lavette feel weak. She wasn’t sure she could walk home, let alone do all her chores when she arrived.
“Don’t worry about her.” Josiah took his arm from around her. His large fingers wrapped around hers, and he slowed his stride so she didn’t have to walk so fast. “Glorianna was going to go over or send her helper, Alicia, to see to Mrs. Sawyer. The lady will be well taken care of.
“You see how amazing God is?” Josiah’s eyes twinkled in the waning light. “You didn’t ask Him for help, but He gave you the right song to sing. I’ll bet most of those men have never heard that one before.”
“The fountain hymn was all that came to mind.” Lavette agreed with Josiah on the wonder of it. “You’ll have to teach me the other verses sometime.” He began to sing and she joined him.
“There is a fountain filled with blood—”
Lavette hummed softly as she sorted beans. Last night she thought she would never be rested again. After her ordeal at the saloon, she’d come home to find Glorianna and the twins entertaining Mrs. Sawyer. Josiah told her about her employer’s fall from bed. He also said he would get Conlon to speak with Paul Ashton about Mead. Josiah suggested maybe something else could be worked out, but he wouldn’t say what. Lavette had gone to bed early and awakened with the dawn, surprised she hadn’t been plagued by nightmares.
A gentle knock rattled the kitchen door. Lavette hurried to open it. Glorianna stood there, a book in one hand. She smiled.
“Come in.” Lavette held the door open. “What have you done with Angelina and Andrew?”
“Shame on me, I left them home taking a nap.” Glorianna grinned. “They wouldn’t like it if they knew where I was. Those two adore you.”
“They are sweet.” Lavette smiled as Glorianna snorted. “They remind me of my youngest sister when she was a baby. She was as ornery as the day is long, but she was so cute, you couldn’t stay mad at her. When she looked at me with those wide brown eyes and that puppy dog expression, I’d melt inside. I’m afraid we spoiled her.”
Glorianna chuckled. “I can understand that. Among Conlon and me, Quinn and Kathleen, and everyone else we know, the twins don’t stand a chance.” She handed the book to Lavette. “I brought you this Bible.” She looked down, seeming uncertain. “When I started out, I thought this was a grand idea. Then I realized that most of the people who were slaves couldn’t read. I don’t mean to insult you.”
“A Bible.” Lavette ran her hand over the cover. She hesitated. Somehow, she knew she could trust Glorianna with the truth. “I do know how to read. I grew up as the playmate to the master’s daughter. I had to be with her all day and sometimes at night. Her father had a tutor for her even though Miss Susannah hated learning. I soaked up all her lessons like a sponge. Miss Susannah had to repeat everything so many times, I couldn’t help but learn.”
Glorianna laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. Did you learn sums, too?”
“Yes. I’m one of the few blacks who are educated. I did teach my family a little. On the nights when I was allowed to go home, they had me spend hours showing them figures or teaching them the letters. We had to be careful not to let anyone know, though.”
“That’s wonderful.” Glorianna tapped the Bible. “I thought you might like to read the story of Joseph for yourself. Have you ever read the Bible?”
“No, Ma’am. I’ve never even held one before.”
“The story of Joseph is found in the very first book of the Bible, Genesis.” Glorianna took the book and riffled through the pages. “Here you go. This is the part about Joseph, although you might want to start at the beginning and read what happened before then.”
Lavette accepted the Bible and hugged it. “I can’t wait.” She bit her lip, wondering if she could ask Glorianna what was on her heart. This had been bothering her most of the day, and she needed to talk to someone.
“What is it?”
Lavette jumped. Had Glorianna known her thoughts?
“You look like you wanted to ask me something.” Glorianna chuckled. “Don’t look so guilty.”
Looking down, Lavette sighed and hoped this would be the right thing to do. “I do have a question.”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been angry and bitter at God for a long time. Then last Sunday at your house I felt such a peace after you and Kathleen prayed. I thought all those old feelings would be gone.” Lavette stopped, unsure how to continue.
“Then the old bitterness popped up again, and you’re wondering if you really felt God’s peace or not, right?”
Lavette’s mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
Glorianna patted Lavette’s arm. “We all have doubts about our walk with God. That’s one of the reasons we need to meet together. As Christians, we can encourage one another. When we are alone too long, then it’s easy to doubt ourselves or God.”
“But what do I do about these feelings?”
“Pray.” Glorianna smiled. “It’s so simple, yet we often forget. Prayer is the best remedy for fears, uncertainty, or a lack of faith.” She pursed her lips in thought. “Did you ever pull a weed, only to have the root break off, and before you knew it, another weed sprang up?”
Lavette nodded.
“Bitterness can be like that weed. We may get the main part of the plant pulled up the first time, but there are still all the little roots that can send up shoots at unexpected times. When they do, don’t panic. Pray.”
A few minutes later, Glorianna left. Lavette turned to the story of Joseph, wondering what else this man faced while a slave. Had God helped him through the hard times?
Chapter 17
Josiah turned from the anvil to the bench with his tools lined in neat rows. He frowned. “What is wrong with me lately?”
“I don’t think I have time to list everything that’s wrong with you.” Startled, Josiah tried to act indifferent. He hadn’t seen Conlon enter the smithy. Focused on the job at hand and the problems with Lavette and Mead, he hadn’t heard a thing. He flashed a grin at his friend. “You’d better not start, or I might be tempted to put your horse’s shoes on upside down the next time.”
“Threats. I never thought you’d stoop so low, Josiah.” Conlon shook his head and sighed. “It’s amazing what love will do to a man.” He chuckled. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Josiah gestured at the tool-laden table. “I can’t seem to find the piece I need. I always put things in the same spot, but now I need my creaser for this shoe, and it’s not there.”
“Hmm.” Conlon rubbed his chin and peered at the variety of blacksmith implements. His eyes sparkled. “I don’t suppose what you’re looking for could be in your hand, could it?”
Heat warmed his face as Josiah stared at the creaser in his hand. Conlon gave a guffaw that the whole neighborhood could have heard. Shaking his head, Josiah sighed and gave a sheepish grin. “I don’t suppose you’d believe I was trying to see if you knew what a creaser was?”
“Nope. I remember acting like a fool when I met Glory. I’m kind of enjoying seeing you do the same.” Conlon smirked. “As I recall, you weren’t too sympathetic with me then.”
“Hey, what happened to helping a brother?”
“I helped you. I told you exactly where to find what you’d lost.”
Josiah groaned. “I give up. Have some coffee while I finish this job. Then we can talk.”
Picking up a hammer, Josiah set the creaser along the side of the hot horseshoe. With a few strokes, he made the creases the nails would fit in. Taking up the punch, he made the holes he needed inside the crease, careful to not damage the surface of his anvil. When he finished the last nail hole, he placed the finished shoe to one side to cool while he put his tools away.
“Did you get them all in the right place?” Conlon pretended to examine the tool bench. “I wouldn’t want to have to come by every day to show you where everything is.”
Josiah slapped his friend on the shoulder, slopping Conlon’s coffee over the rim of the mug. Conlon moved the cup to the side to keep the liquid from spilling on his uniform.
“I think you’re having trouble taking a joke right now.” Conlon wiped the drips from the bottom of the cup and shook his finger. “Glory said you came by to see me this morning. I thought I’d see what you wanted. Maybe I should have stayed away.”
Josiah filled his mug with coffee that looked more like sludge than drinkable brew. He tried to look serious. “I guess you’re right. I’m as touchy as a bear right out of hibernation.”
“Is this a roundabout way of asking for food? That’s what those bears always want.”
Josiah groaned and shook his head. Conlon gave him a wicked grin. Taking a sip of the scalding coffee, Josiah grimaced. “I don’t know why I keep drinking this stuff. I think this could eat the nail holes through those horseshoes.”
“I have to agree. Is this the same pot we shared two weeks ago, or have you considered making some fresh?”
“I usually make it fresh every morning, although the way my mind is working lately, this could be from two weeks ago.” Josiah took another slug. “I wanted to talk to you about one of your men.”
Conlon straightened. His expression changed from joking to serious. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not wrong, so to speak.” Josiah rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s Paul Ashton. Do you know him well?”
“We aren’t close, but he’s one of my men.” Conlon’s brows drew together even farther. “He’s the son-in-law of the woman Lavette works for.”
Putting his cup down, Josiah rubbed his palms on the legs of his pants. “I don’t know if you’re aware of what Mrs. Sawyer, Lavette’s employer, is planning to do.” When Conlon shook his head, Josiah continued. “She plans to stay in Tucson with the Ashtons rather than returning home.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” Conlon looked puzzled.
“In a way, yes. The problem is she can’t keep Lavette. Paul recommended she sell the remainder of Lavette’s contract to Bertrand Mead. He says Mead is a fine, upstanding citizen, and Mrs. Sawyer believes him.”
“Has she met Mead?”
“Yep. He’s put on such an act that she talks like he’s a saint or something.”
“So what can I do?” Conlon rested against the side of the tool bench, placing his empty cup beside him.
“I thought maybe you could talk to Ashton. Does he know Mead well? If not, maybe he would see him in a different light.”
Conlon lifted off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, Paul may not be swayed. For some reason, he spends a lot of his time off in the saloon. I think he knows exactly what kind of person Mead is. In fact, my guess would be that he’s doing this at Mead’s bidding.”
Josiah felt as if someone had knocked the air out of him. He’d counted on Paul Ashton’s help. Now what would he do?
“I’ll try to talk to him anyway, but don’t count on it doing much good. Has Lavette spoken with Mrs. Sawyer about Mead?”
“She tried, but Mead can put on a good act. Mrs. Sawyer won’t believe anything bad about him because she hasn’t seen that side of him.”
“Well, I’ve got to get back out to the fort.” Conlon straightened and slapped his cap on his head. “I’ll try talking to Paul.” Josiah followed Conlon outside. Conlon swung up on the horse, then paused. “You know, I wish Glory and I had the money. We would go buy Lavette’s contract and release her.” He shook his head and reined his horse around.
Stunned, Josiah stood where he was watching the dust billow up around Conlon’s horse’s legs as they trotted off. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Lord, am I stupid? This is the answer, and I didn’t see it. Josiah rushed around the side of the smithy to the rooms at the back where he lived. Dropping onto his knees, he felt for the loose board beside his bed. With a protesting creak, the board lifted, revealing a box in the crevice below.
His fingers trembled as Josiah shook out the coins he’d saved. They fell with a musical clink on his blanket. His heart sank. This was a paltry amount. He had no idea how much Mead was willing to pay or how much Mrs. Sawyer wanted for Lavette’s contract, but he knew his savings weren’t enough. Scraping the coins back into the bag, he hid them once more. Excitement made his movements jerky. He had a plan now, and this afternoon he would begin to put it into action.
The comforting melody of Josiah’s song floated around her as Lavette took the dry clothes from the line and folded them in the basket. She’d come to think of the fountain hymn as Josiah’s song because he taught it to her and loved the words so much. All day she couldn’t seem to get the tune out of her head. After last night, she thought she would never sing again, let alone this song. For some reason, though, her heart wasn’t weighed down with fear and trepidation over what the future held. Something in her was changing.
This morning she’d tried once again to talk to Mrs. Sawyer about Bertrand Mead. Lavette wanted to tell her mistress what happened yesterday at the saloon, but Mrs. Sawyer refused to hear any of it, saying she wouldn’t have such a fine gentleman’s character maligned. Lavette knew it wasn’t her place to push the point. She’d learned long ago, the hard way, that people weren’t interested in her thoughts on anything. Speaking up only brought pain.
Instead of arguing, she’d gone to her room for a few minutes to read more of Joseph’s story. She took comfort in the fact that Joseph, despite being chosen by God, had to suffer the same as she and her people had to suffer. Joseph didn’t seem to have any resentment to deal with like she did. Perhaps she hadn’t given God the chance to work in her life. Lavette frowned, and the melody faltered. Her opinion of God was faltering right now. She didn’t know what way to turn sometimes.
“I was getting ready to join you. Don’t stop.”
Lavette screeched and clutched the sheet she was folding. Whirling around, she faced Josiah. How he’d managed to get so close without her hearing him, she didn’t know.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She folded the cloth, put it on the full basket, and glared at him. “I’m not sure I believe that. My brother used to sneak up on me. He had that same grin on his face when I screamed.”
Josiah stepped closer. His gaze held hers. She wanted to grab another sheet off the line and hide behind it. This man set her heart pounding so loud, she couldn’t think. He lifted a lock of her hair that had escaped the bun at the nape of her neck, and the strand curled around his finger like it belonged there. He tugged. She took a step closer, tilting her head back to still meet his gaze. His huge hand covered her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. A sigh of contentment escaped to dance on the breeze.
The warm touch of his lips on hers surprised her, then stole her breath away. She’d never been kissed like this before. The only kisses she’d known were the ones forced on her when she’d been a slave at Wild Oaks. Those had been hard, mean, and hurtful—nothing at all like Josiah’s kiss. This one could go on forever, and she wouldn’t mind.
He encircled her with his massive arms, his touch so gentle. Releasing her mouth, Josiah held her close, his breath warm on her forehead. She rested her cheek against his chest. He smelled of soap, smoke, and the faint scent of sweat.
“That’s what I wanted to know.” The rumble of his voice wrapped around her.
“What’s that?”
“I needed to know how you felt about me.” His answer surprised her. She arched back to look at him. He smiled. “I know how I feel about you, Lavette. I love you. Before I put my plan into action, I had to know if you felt something for me too.”
She pushed away from him. Love? This gentle giant of a man loved her? Panic grabbed her. She couldn’t let this happen. She had to keep him at a distance. Inside she knew it was too late. He’d stolen her heart long ago.
“I can’t love you.” She ached as she spoke. “This will never work. You have to leave and forget me.”
He reached out, and she moved farther away. “Do you love me, Lavette?”
“I can’t. You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“Then tell me. I can’t imagine you doing anything wrong.”
Panic and horror closed around her. “I had no choice. When I was at Wild Oaks—in the early years of the war—”
Josiah lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “You didn’t have a choice when you were there. You had to do what your owner told you to do.”
“He used to touch me.” Her voice broke.
“Oh, Sweetheart.” Josiah pulled her into his arms again. “I know the horrible things women had to do. My mother was forced to do them. That’s one of the reasons Mr. Bellingham chose my father and mother to take with him when he went north. He wanted to get my mother away from his brothers.” He stroked a hand over her hair. “That’s over. All I care about now is if you love me.”
“Oh, Josiah.”
“Do you?”
She glanced around the yard, feeling an urgency to escape. She couldn’t lie to him. Looking up, she saw the anguish in his eyes. “Yes.” The word tore from her. Tears filled her eyes. “I love you so much, but I can’t let this happen. I’m not free to care that much for anyone.”
Josiah glowed. Before she could react, he grabbed her and hugged her to him once more. This time his kiss wasn’t as gentle. This kiss claimed her as his. She didn’t fight him. She wanted to be his. He set her back on her feet. A silly grin creased his cheeks. She laughed, unable to remember when she’d felt so giddy.
“I need to talk to Mrs. Sawyer. Is she awake?”
Lavette shook her head, uncertain whether she could speak yet.
“When will she be ready for company?”
“I—uh.” Lavette stiffened as Josiah grinned wider. His smug look said he knew exactly why she couldn’t put a thought together. She smiled and shook her head at him. He was right. His kisses had chased away all her sensibility.
“Let me gather this laundry and we’ll go in. If you’d like, I have some pie and coffee. Mrs. Sawyer should be awake soon.”
