A Slave of the Shadows, page 17
Beau eagerly led us in a direction I hoped was home.
WE HEARD THE POUNDING OF horses’ hooves, and I was certain help had come. Feeling Mary Grace tense beside me, I assured her, “I believe help is on the way, Mary Grace.”
“Now I face my shame,” she whispered, the words almost inaudible.
I swallowed hard.
As the three blurry riders pulled their horses to a stop in front of us, I was relieved to see the face of my father. I could recognize Jones from his posture in his saddle. How our overseer sat a horse had been ingrained in my memory from his years of service at Livingston. Bringing up the rear was a man unfamiliar to me. The stranger stayed back and his dark hat shadowed his face.
“Willow!” Father dismounted and rushed to me; genuine worry thickened his voice. “What happened?” He gently touched my face. His face was inches from mine, and I saw the deep lines worry had engraved on his forehead. He glanced from me to Mary Grace. “No!” Twisting away, he released me to pace back and forth. A whimper escaped the hulk of a man before it was replaced with determination much like my own.
Turning to Jones he ordered, “Jones, help Mary Grace to your horse.”
“No!” I shrieked as Mary Grace retreated into the curve of my side. “Father, can I ride with her on your horse and you double up with Jones or with the other one?” I gestured to the stranger.
“As you say, Willow,” Father replied. He looked to the other two men. “Let’s take them home to Mammy. She will know what to do.”
I breathed a sigh of relief when Father understood my meaning without me having to press the matter. I led Mary Grace to the horse, and Father helped her up before seating me behind her.
As the sun dropped below the horizon, we rode into Livingston. I saw Mammy pacing on the porch, anxiously waiting for the men’s return. Jimmy sat on the steps with his head bowed, his hat twisted in his hands. Mammy cried out when she saw us. Jimmy caught Mammy’s arm as she ran from the porch and they ran to meet us together.
We pulled our horses to a stop. Jimmy reached up to help Mary Grace down. Beside him, a weeping Mammy mumbled unfathomable words. As she beheld her daughter’s face, a low moan escaped her.
Mary Grace collapsed into the security of her mother’s embrace. “Oh, Mama…” She sobbed hysterically.
“We’ll take care of dis, chile. Mammy promises.” Arms tight around her daughter, Mammy peered over Mary Grace’s shoulder at my father, her eyes pleading.
I looked from her to Father in time to see his nod of acceptance to Mammy.
Jimmy reached for me, but Father stepped in and tenderly placed my feet on the ground. He stood with his arm resting protectively around my shoulders. I don’t know why I didn’t cringe away, but maybe like Mary Grace, I sought the protection of a parent. The moment passed as Father snapped into action.
“Round up the other men. We hunt the men who did this.” He barked orders to Jones and the stranger who still hung back like he had something to hide. “Jimmy, take care of my daughter. Don’t leave her side. Take a gun and I want you stationed outside of her door twenty-four hours—around the clock, understand?—until the men that did this are caught.”
“Yes, Masa.”
Depleted of all strength, I crumpled into the hollow of Jimmy’s armpit. He pulled me close. A flood of emotions overtook me at the safety I found there. Father looked at us. He never said a word about Jimmy’s arm encircling me.
He continued barking orders. “I want a man guarding every entrance to the house. Double the guard at the gate. No one comes in or out of this plantation without my knowledge,” he said to the employed men as they gathered around, guns in one hand and their saddled horses’ reins in the other.
Mammy’s footsteps were heavy as she led Mary Grace inside.
Father came back to stand in front of me. He brushed my matted hair from my bruised, swollen face and cupped my face in his hands with a kindness alien to me. Those hands had inflicted so much pain on me. This close, I discerned Father fighting the conflict stirring in him. In his eyes was a strange tenderness, and in this gesture, I felt his love.
“Willow, you must tell me who did this to you.”
I forced the words out. “There were two of them. They were masked, but before I blacked out I recognized the voice of Rufus, Barry’s overseer.”
He turned away and shouted instructions to his men. “Mount up. We will pay the Barry Plantation a visit.” He swung up on his horse. “No man will touch my daughter or anyone on this plantation with such brutal force and get away with it. An attack on one of us is an attack on us all. Ride out!” He swept his arm forward, and the posse thundered off. The grainy cloud of powdered dust from their departure filled my mouth and nostrils.
Jimmy’s voice broke through the noise of the horses as they rode down the lane and out the gates. “Come on, Miss Willie, we need to git you inside and cleant up.”
I CLIMBED THE SEEMINGLY ENDLESS staircase, heavy of heart. Jimmy spoke no words. None needed to be said; his presence was enough. At my bedroom he opened the door and, grateful for the haven it offered, I entered.
Turning, I gazed at the man who’d been my comfort. He opened his arms wide and I stepped into their embrace. Snug in the cradle he formed around me, curtained from the world, I broke. I soaked his shirt with my tears. The horror of the last few hours washed over me.
“Mary Grace…” My wail was muffled in his chest.
How would things ever return to normal? What would Mary Grace’s new normal be? She would never be the same. The unspeakable things that had been done to her…I feared what it would do to a tender spirit like Mary Grace.
I leaned back and studied Jimmy’s eyes for answers. His face was anguished as he returned my gaze. “I will make this right, Jimmy. I warn you, I will not find peace until I do.” The attack evoked an unnerving anger in me.
Nothing could escape the careful eye of Jimmy. Worry swept over his kind face. “Miss Willie, I don’t lak de luk in your eyes.”
I said no more. I thanked him for his assistance and closed the door behind me. His footsteps faded away down the stairs.
Seating myself at my vanity, I sucked in a breath at the woman staring back at me in the mirror. I did not recognize my own reflection. My long, silky locks were a chaos of mats, twigs, and grass. I grimaced as I ran my fingertips over my lips; darkened cuts marred my once perfect pout, which had doubled in size, the swelling reaching to my nostrils. My chin was crusted in dried blood that ran down my neck and stained the front of my white blouse. My eyes looked like I had been caught in a swarm of wasps, so swollen that my eyelids swallowed up my lashes and the inset of my eye sockets was no more. Red blotches rapidly darkening to bruises covered most of my face. I twisted my head to view my neck, and the strain on the angry gash made me wince. The mark from the whip stretched two to three inches along my neck and looped up behind my ear. In time the rest would heal, but the lash of the whip would remind me of this day forever. I swore to myself this mark would become a reminder of the part I needed to play in this song and dance we called life.
Jimmy returned and took up his position outside my room, and the butt of his gun hit the floor as he leaned against my door.
I went to the water basin and splashed water on my face. Using a clean cloth, I blotted at the open wounds. From the stand the basin sat on I retrieved some ointment and applied it to my wounds. I needed to find some ice to ease the swelling, but my thoughts clung to Mary Grace. My heart cried to run to her, but Mammy was the one she needed right now.
Exhausted, I crawled into my bed, reached for the afghan neatly folded across the bottom, and pulled it up, covering my head. If only I could rewind the day, I thought.
“Willow…” Whitney’s voice broke through my blanket cocoon.
Whitney? What is she—the party! Oh, no. I scrambled out of the bed.
Father had left firm instructions that no one was to come in or out. But I knew Whitney, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer if she thought something was up.
I shuffled to the door and opened it a crack. Without looking up, she barged in, announcing, “They are turning people away at the gate…” Her last words trailed off as she whirled to face me. “Willow, for God’s sake, what happened to you!” Her loud voice turned to a screech, her brows rising in concern.
“I’ll explain it later. I hope the guards managed to keep the other guests at bay. Father strictly ordered no visitors.”
“I was having none of that,” she declared. “We met your father on the road and he blew right past us in a fury. We knew something was wrong. Then when we got to the gates, the guards said the party was canceled and wouldn’t clarify why. After arguing for what felt like hours, I tried to bribe them, to no avail. So, we took that back trail we used to move Georgia and Sam out.”
“We?” I asked, already dreading the answer.
“Bowden, Knox, and Kipling arrived at the gate around the same time. They were having none of it either. We were all concerned for you.”
“No…” My shoulders slumped. “Something horrendous has happened. I can’t have anyone here tonight. Please, Whitney, make them leave. I can’t face them.” Tears of frustration flooded my eyes.
“Willow, I don’t think they will listen. We are your friends. I know you feel you don’t need them, but you do. I know Bowden won’t listen, even if I tried to get rid of them. He was tearing up the ground to get to the house. Bowden, the image of strength and manly muscle, was as weak as a newborn colt with worry over you. We ate his dust getting here. The guards at the door would have suffered blows if Mammy hadn’t intervened.”
My knees nearly buckled, and Whitney reached out to steady me. I studied the woman before me. As blunt and overbearing as she was, she came with good intentions and she wasn’t leaving without answers. “Rufus did this to us,” I said bitterly.
“Us? Who else?”
I related with as much discretion as possible what had happened.
Whitney was speechless. Then she was spitting venom and declaring the price Rufus would pay for this.
Mammy’s heavy footfalls sounded in the hall, moving our way. She tapped lightly on the door and there was a muffled exchange with Jimmy.
“Come in.”
Mammy’s face seemed to have aged ten years over the last hour—her worst fear had come true. In her arms she carried Mary Grace’s soiled clothes.
“How is she?”
“My sweet gal may never be the same.” Mammy looked away, the burden heavy on her shoulders.
“Mammy, I wish I could take it all away. She followed me. If I hadn’t gotten cross and wandered off, this would never have happened.” I lowered my eyes, focusing on a dust ball in the corner of the room.
“Chile, dis is not your fault. Dem Barry boys is de ones who hurt my gals.” Mammy cast a chastising gaze toward Whitney and said, “What are you gwine to have your pappy do ’bout dis, Miss Whitney?”
Whitney quivered beside me. Mammy was in pain and torn with grief. She was lashing out. Whitney straightened and squared her shoulders, meeting Mammy’s challenging gaze. “I promise you, Mammy, there will be a reckoning for the sins forced on Mary Grace.”
I went to Mammy and took the clothes from her. “I will attend to this. You go to Mary Grace. Do not worry about this house or anyone tonight, Mammy.”
“You all right, chile?” She tipped her head and looked slightly up at me. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you, but Mary Grace say dey didn’t touch you lak dat, and I jus’ so torn—”
“No explanation needed, Mammy. I’m taking over your duties tonight.” I wrapped my arms about her. I couldn’t stay holed up in my room. I needed to keep busy or I’d go mad. “I love you, Mammy, and Mary Grace.”
“We know it, chile.” She patted my back and stepped back. “You do my gal a favor?”
“Yes, Mammy, anything—you name it.”
“She is axing for Gray.”
Alarmed at her request and my stupidity at not thinking of this beforehand, I gasped, “Oh my, of course! I never thought. I’ll do it directly.” Eager to be of assistance, I hastily left them to do Mammy’s bidding.
“WILLOW!” THEIR HORRIFIED VOICES EXCLAIMED together.
In my haste to be useful, I forgot my friends waited for news. “I’m fine. Honestly, I am, and there are more important matters to attend to,” I said. “Bowden, Mary Grace is asking for Gray. Can you fetch him?”
Bowden stood frozen in place, his face reflecting his dark and dangerous thoughts. His arms hung at his sides and his hands flexed open and closed.
Aware of the turmoil surging through Bowden, Kip said, “I’ll go.” He clapped Bowden’s shoulder, giving it a firm, understanding squeeze. Before he took his leave, he came to me, grimacing as he saw my face up close. His jaw set. “Willow…we…I will be back.” He exited through the double front door.
Whitney descended the stairs and stood by my side. From the corner of my eye I caught her gesture to Knox to follow her outside, leaving me alone with Bowden.
Silence filled the foyer. Unsure what to say, I moved to the parlor and sat on the red sofa there. I realized I still held Mary Grace’s clothes clasped tightly in my hands. Setting them aside, I massaged my temples with my fingertips before raising my eyes to survey the room. Through the door to the left, in the dining room, I noticed the beautifully decorated table I had spent many hours fussing over for my birthday party. The small rosewood Victorian center table held the gifts quickly discarded by my friends in their concern. My brain felt foggy and I longed to wake from this nightmare.
I sensed his presence when his shadow loomed over me. “Willow?” My name softly trailed from him.
“I’ll be fine.”
He sat beside me. Gently turning my face toward him, he investigated the damage. “Who?” he said through his teeth.
“Rufus and Yates. I would recognize Yates’s pigeon-toed stance anywhere,” I replied flatly. “They hurt Mary Grace in ways I can’t speak of.”
He understood. “Justice will be served, Willow,” he said firmly.
I threw a sharp glance at him. “Justice for who, me? I was beaten—so what? What of Mary Grace? The law will do nothing about this matter. You and I both know that.”
I hated this truth. I vowed I would never be defenseless again, and he was going to help me see to that. “Bowden, I would like you to teach me how to defend myself.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Encouraged when he didn’t shut me down, I went on. “I will not be vulnerable in a situation like that again. I want you to teach me to fight with my hands, and to shoot.”
“Willow, I don’t know…”
I glared at him in disbelief. “You have no idea what it feels like to be a woman,” I retorted, angrily rising from the sofa. “As women, we aren’t taught any skills to defend ourselves in any way. We are simply to be pretty accessories on a gentleman’s arm. Never again will I sit back and do as I’m told. I will learn to defend myself, with or without your help. I will never be pinned to the ground and straddled like a mare. I escaped the horror of rape this time, but what about the next?” I was on the verge of hysteria. “Without the physical strength to protect my friend, I lay there while the girl I’ve loved like a sister screamed, helpless and utterly useless.” I ended on a guilty sob.
He stood swiftly and his shoulders straightened. “I will teach you. Forgive me for the hesitation.” He reached out and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Willow, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I didn’t care. I care more than I am capable of showing. I can’t begin to understand what you and Mary Grace endured. I vow to you to teach you anything and everything you require.”
I needed him. I knew it. My heart stirred as I gazed up at him. This man had declared his love for me, and more and more each day I was brought to believe his words were true. I had been unable to say the words back. In time, maybe? I cared for him like I’d never cared for anyone before. And gradually, he was gaining my trust and respect.
“Thank you.”
He scooped me into his arms and nuzzled the curve of my neck, tenderly kissing the nasty welt from the whip all the way up to where it stopped behind my ear. His voice quivered with emotion as he whispered in my ear, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”
The warmth of contentment filled my heart.
HORSES POUNDED UP THE LANE as Father and his men returned. Alerted to their arrival, Whitney and I joined Bowden, Knox, and Kipling, who had eventually retired to the chairs on the veranda. The horsemen’s silhouettes bounced up and down in the light of the moon, their bodies casting shadows like moving mountains across the open fields. They arrived in the center of the front yard, exhausted and tight-faced. Father dismounted promptly and dispatched his men around the plantation. “And be on high alert,” he barked.
“What is it, Father?” His strained manner worried me.
“They weren’t there. Barry said no one had seen them all night. They may have caught wind we were coming.”
“They were masked, Father, and they didn’t know I recognized them.”
“Yes, I remember. This means they are still out there somewhere. We start our search again at first light. Not a stone remains unturned. If we can’t round them up by tomorrow eve, then I will go to town and inform the sheriff of their wrongdoing. I will put out a reward for their capture.” He licked his lips as he paced, his eyes fierce.
Who was this man? I’d never seen this side of Father before. Was it because Rufus dared to damage his property? Or did Father care that harm had come to me? Mary Grace was but a slave to Father; it couldn’t be that.
Bowden approached Father. “Sir, we are at your service if you require our help here tonight.”
“No, Bowden, we will manage for the night. But I will need your help in the morning. Get your rest tonight.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll leave Gray here to stay with Mary Grace,” Bowden offered.
