Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (43 page)

“Sorry, Mistah Barbeau,” came Rosa’s meek voice, “but they is a man at the back door what says he’s got to see Mistah Mason right away.”

Marilee had to strain to hear Mason say, “That will be Lonnie Bruce Burnham. He’s the one who was checking to see if we located Willis.”

“All right,” Jordan called out, “bring him in here.” Then he lowered his voice once more and said, “I’m going to leave the two of you for a few minutes. Some goods I bought when I was in Paris last spring arrived by train yesterday, and I sent men to town to bring them out by wagon. I need to check on them.”

“Sure, boss. Go ahead. I’ll talk to Lonnie Bruce.”

Marilee heard the study door open and close. Soon she would be able to leave and warn Travis, but not yet. It would be far too risky to attempt to get out of the house now, and she wanted to hear where Munroe was hiding. Travis would need to know.

Marilee waited nervously as the minutes ticked by. Lonnie Bruce and Stewart drank and talked of inconsequential things. As she waited in the musty darkness, she planned her every move. First, she would tell Rosa what was happening. Then…Marilee heard the scurrying sound of tiny claws on the wood just above her head. A mouse? A rat? Merciful heaven, and she could do nothing…make no sound, or they would hear her. Her father might remember the secret passageway, open the door, and there she would be!

The animal was moving closer, and then something touched her hair, swung down across her forehead. A rat’s tail! He was on her head. And he was not moving, just standing on her head.

She dared not move. If she raised her arm to shoo him away, then he might make enough noise to alarm her father. Or he might bite her and then she would lose control and scream.

Concentrate. She ordered her wildly dancing brain to concentrate on something that wasn’t there.

Travis. She saw his face. The silver-gray eyes. The shining black hair. He was smiling. Oh, that melting smile. Sometimes arrogant, sometimes teasing.

The rat moved.

Concentrate! Think!

Why did she care for Travis? She silently challenged her pounding heart. What was there about him that thwarted her every attempt to dislike him?

He was splendid. He was glorious. He was afraid of no man, no thing, and he had taught her, mystery of mysteries, what it was like to be a woman.

The rat’s tail whipped across her forehead once more, this time tickling the end of her nose.

Recite! She commanded. Slowly, a verse came to her. It reminded her of Travis. In the finishing school in Louisville, she had read the words of Sir Richard Steele, and they had stayed with her, waiting for the day a man would coax them forth.

“Of all affections which attend human life,” her heart whispered, “the love of glory is the most ardent.”

Love of glory…love of splendor. Travis was all those things to her, and she was not going to let that damned rat make her scream and give herself away and thereby cost him his life. “Of all affections…” she repeated to herself.

Beyond the wall, she could hear the men talking. There in the dark recess Marilee could only command herself to recite, recite and remember sweetness and passion. Memory took her away to a place where she could hide until the nightmare was over.

Rosa pushed open the door to the sewing room and stepped to the side, making way for the two men carrying the large crate.

“I reckon it’ll be all right in here,” she said, glancing around the room. “Mistah Barbeau, he say to get it out of the way till he has time to see it’s unpacked right. What is it, anyway?”

The man closer to her swore under his breath. “The manifest says it’s small marble statues, but it’s heavy enough to be marble tombstones. Woman, will you tell us where you want it? We can’t keep holding it.”

She placed a fingertip against her lips thoughtfully. Miss Marilee came in here sometimes, she knew, and she would not want such a big crate in her way. There was no telling when Mister Barbeau would get around to unpacking it.

“Woman, please!” The second man groaned, staggering under the weight. “You
tell us where you want it, or so help me, I’m putting it down right here.”

She snapped her fingers suddenly. “There! It won’t be in nobody’s way right there, no matter how long Mistah Barbeau takes gettin’ around to unpackin’ it.”

She pointed to the spot directly in front of the mirrored door.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was midafternoon and hot. No breeze stirred. The streets were deserted.

Travis sat tilted back in the chair, his booted feet propped casually on the windowsill as he stared out into the quiet day. This job had, he reflected, taken much longer than he had anticipated. Gaining the confidence of the Negroes had taken a long time. Then, when the truth began to unfold and he realized just what he was up against, caution had to be exercised.

He shook his head slightly, thinking of Marilee. The woman had guts. Spying on the Klan was something Kitty would have done. He chuckled silently. Only thing was, Kitty would probably have lost her temper and pulled a gun on the Klansmen. Marilee was more reserved. That was all right. No two people were ever alike. And, he reflected with a pang, no woman could ever be just like Kitty.

Sam stirred and Travis turned to see that he was awake, watching him.

“Damn this infernal bed,” Sam cursed, striking the air with angry fists. “I want out of here, Coltrane. You go tell that stubborn doctor that I want some crutches so I can get out of here. I ain’t got time to lay in no damn bed.”

“In due time,” Travis murmured quietly, nodding. “You always were an impatient old cuss, Bucher.”

“I wasn’t always
old.
You didn’t used to talk to me like that. You knew I’d bust your head.”

“Well, you’re the one who’s busted now, old friend. We both have seen better days. They gave us quite a going over. I’ve been wondering why they didn’t go on and kill us.”

Sam snorted. “You know as well as I do what they were trying to do—scare us into leaving town. Just like you know who they were—Mason and his bunch.”

“Oh, yeah, but we can’t prove that, can we?”

“Hell, no. They made sure of that. I never knew what hit me. Sonsofbitches. I want a shot at them so damn bad!”

“You may not get your chance, Sam. It looks as though I’m going to have to make a move soon.”

He proceeded to tell Sam of how Marilee had been discovered spying on the Klan. “It’s just getting too damn dangerous,” Travis declared firmly. “What if I hadn’t just happened to decide to check on things last night? She said they were planning on sending her to one of the Klan groups in the western part of the state. You and I both know what misery she would have suffered. White slavery!

“I don’t have much on Barbeau,” Travis said worriedly. “Maybe not enough to convict him. But at least I can bust up what’s been going on here. To wait and try to get the goods on Barbeau would be too dangerous for the Negroes here.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully, then cried, “I want to go with you. You ain’t got no business doing this on your own. There’s too many of them. And you’ll have to walk right in on them when they’re meeting. You’re a damned fool if you don’t think they’d blow your head off.”

“Sam, give me credit for having a little bit of sense, will you?” he grinned at his partner. “I didn’t get through the goddamn war by being a hothead, did I?”

Sam grumbled to himself awhile, then waved his hand. “All right. Go on. Tell me the plan. You obviously can do just fine without me and don’t give a shit about what I think, but I’m curious. I’d like to know how you plan to pull this off by yourself.”

Travis grinned at the crotchety friend who had seen him through so much. “All right,” he said finally. “The first thing I’ve got to do is find out where and when they have a meeting. They’ll change locations now that they know Marilee found out about their old one. I’ve got about a dozen Negroes staked out in the mountains, keeping an eye on things tonight. They’ll be sure to see any gatherings.”

“Them are big mountains, Travis.”

“These people know those mountains, Sam. And they’ll be perched up in the top of tall trees. They can see for miles. When a cross is fired up, they’ll see the flames. But I’m hoping they’ll know the location of the meeting before that.”

Sam snorted. “So you’ll just go charging in, eh? Well, I’ll tell your boy what a brave fool his daddy was, and I’ll go on to Nevada and take care of your silver mine for you. And I promise ever so often to have a drink just for you.” He swung his head from side to side in disgust. “Travis, you’re a dead man.”

“I asked you to give me a little bit of credit for having some sense, remember?” Travis was enjoying his reaction but decided the game had gone on long enough. “I’ve deputized twenty of the Negro men. They’ll be ready to ride with me when I give the signal.”

Sam slapped his good knee and bellowed, “Oh, Lordy, would I love to be there when they go riding in with badges on, totin’ guns. Them cowards in their robes and hoods are gonna head for the hills and never come down.”

“We’ll round up as many as we can. The main thing I want to do is get Mason. He’s the one I want. I’ve a score to settle.”

“Break one of his legs for me,” Sam grinned. “Damn-a-bear! I want to be there.”

“Well, you can’t be there.” Travis stood, the chair legs hitting the floor with a thud. “You’re going to stay right where you are and let that leg start healing proper before you start getting around on it. Once this mess is taken care of, we’re going to North Carolina.”

“Miss the boy, don’t you?” Sam’s eyes grew soft. “Me too. I’ll bet he’s growed a foot by now. Mattie Glass is gonna cry buckets when you take him away from her. She probably thinks he’s one of her own by now. But a boy needs to be with his father.”

Travis drew a deep breath. “What makes you think I’m going to take him away from Mattie? A boy John’s age needs a woman’s care.”

Sam clasped his hands together, popping the knuckles. “I reckon if you had a wife you could take him wherever you went.”

“A wife!” Travis cried, eyebrows raised. “You beat everything, Sam. Here we are, talking about busting the Klan, and out of the blue you start trying to marry me off. Did you have anybody particular in mind or do you just want to pick somebody off the street?”

Sam plunged bravely on. “I got somebody in mind. So’ve you, if you’d realized it.”

Travis shook his head. “There will never be another Kitty, Sam. I’m not even going to look.”

“She’s gone. You’re here. Life has to go on.”

“Seems to me that I’ve heard that piece of philosophy before.”

“Yeah, and you’ll hear it again as long as you stay around me. Little John needs a mother.”

“So I’m supposed to get married for that reason and that reason alone? Oh, no, my friend. I’m struck with wanderlust. Always have been. I’ll see that my son is well cared for, always. But I will not marry someone I don’t love just to provide him with a mother. I’m too selfish for that.”

“Hell, boy, how do you know you don’t love her? Have you thought about her without thinking of Kitty? Without comparing them? Maybe Marilee isn’t the raving beauty Kitty was, but Marilee has spunk, courage, spirit—all the things you admired. You might grow to love her if you’ll bury Kitty.”

Travis strode toward the door. He was becoming angry, and he did not want to lose his temper. Not with Sam. Sam meant well. But Sam also had a way of pushing to the limit. Telling Sam he would check on him later, Travis left and returned to his office.

It was cool in the office. He walked to the desk and sat down to begin going through the work waiting there. Routine matters. Boring. His head began to ache slightly. The doctor had warned him that might happen as a result of the beating. Possible concussion, he had said. It would wear off soon, but when the pain began, it was best to lie down. Travis obliged, moving to the small room adjoining and his narrow cot.

He lay down on his stomach, turning his head to one side. Thoughts of Marilee came to mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have teased her, but damn it, she shouldn’t have taunted him.

If, he thought drowsily,
if
marriage ever entered his mind again, someone like Marilee would do very nicely. Very nicely indeed.

His eyes closed and he slept.

The sound of the office door opening and closing softly brought him to instant awareness. He reached for his gun, drawing it without a sound. The room was almost totally dark, and he realized that he had slept a long time.

Tense, his eyes remained riveted on the doorway. Suddenly he saw the intruder and cried, “Damn it, Alaina! What in the hell are you doing here?”

He quickly holstered his gun and leaped to his feet as she rushed forward. She threw her arms around him, but he caught her wrists tightly, holding her back.

“I had to see you.” She was crying softly. “I heard you were hurt, and I had to find out how you are.”

“I’m fine,” he said coldly. “Now just turn around and get out of here.”

“You can’t mean it. Not after all we’ve been to each other.” She struggled in his grasp, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you, Travis, and you must love me.”

He sighed. “Alaina, listen to me. You don’t love me. I don’t love you. What we had together was nice, but it’s over. I’ve told you a dozen times that I never promised you anything
except
nice times. That’s what we both got, and now it’s history.”