Morning Sky (27 page)

“You sit down, gal. I’s gonna tell you the truth of what happened back when Lilly made her promise. What you’s gonna hear from me is ’zactly what happened. After you listen, then you can decide ’bout who you is and iffen we’s your family.”

Jarena returned to the space under the cottonwood. Arms folded across her chest and her features taut with anger, she strengthened her resolve. Nothing he said would change her mind. Deceit and lies! She’d been taught to shun such sins all her life. Now he planned to convince her otherwise. Let him try.

He fidgeted and Jarena watched, enjoying his discomfort, wishing he could somehow feel the excruciating pain she’d lived with since Lilly’s utterance—to know what it was like to have one’s foundation stripped away.

“I ain’t good with words like you, Jarena, so I’s gonna speak from my heart and hope you’s listenin’ real good.”

Settling his back against the cottonwood trunk, he rested his large hands atop bent knees and began his story. Speaking in a calm and even voice, he transported Jarena back to the early days of his life with Jennie, sharing their pain when she hadn’t conceived a child early in their union and explaining how they had held to their faith, certain that God would bless them. And He did.

“It was close to Jennie’s time to have the chil’ when we had a letter from Lilly sayin’ she was ’spectin’ a chil’. Now I never did approve of Lilly, never liked her ways. She didn’t have no husband, and she wanted us to take the baby and raise it like it was our own.We agreed after she promised never to lay claim on the chil’. She promised she’d never tell she was the one that birthed the baby. We figured God was givin’ us a double blessing.”

With a pained expression, he told how Jennie’s and his child had been stillborn. Two days later, Jarena was brought to them by a man whom they’d never seen before nor since. Subsequently, everyone assumed Jarena was their child, and neither of them ever corrected that notion.

“I figure God was testin’ me to find out if it was a chil’ I wanted or jest proof of my manhood. When I accepted you and loved you like my own, I think God was pleased. Leastwise, that’s what I decided when Jennie gave birth later to the twins.”

Ezekiel wiped a tear from his cheek. He stared into the distance as he continued revealing what had happened so long ago—telling Jarena of the agreement with Lilly, the promises that had been repeated over and over to ensure that this day would never arrive.

“Jennie kept her word, and I woulda kept mine. Course, we always knowed there was a risk with Lilly, but we hoped jest once she’d do the right thing. And if she ever gets outta that sickbed, I’m gonna have me a word with her that she won’t soon forget. I wanna know what possessed her to tell you. That woman ain’t nothin’ but selfish. She ain’t never changed her ways.” Ezekiel leaned forward and cradled his forehead in his palms.

“Maybe you should have told the truth from the start. Then all of this could have been avoided. Did anyone think about that?”

Ezekiel lifted his head and met her steady gaze. “Lilly was afeared your true father might hurt you. Don’ know if that’s a fact or iffen it’s another one of Lilly’s lies, but we believed her. We agreed it was best fer everyone. I still don’ understand why she decided to tell you.”

“Mrs. Nelson snooped in Aunt Lilly’s papers.”

“She never destroyed the birth paper, did she?” His eyes shone with sudden clarification. “She was afeared Mrs. Nelson would tell so she decided to do the tellin’ herself.”

Jarena pulled a long piece of grass and twisted it around her index finger. “She thought I’d forgive her.”

“Did she say that?”

“Earlier I talked to her about God’s forgiveness. Since I told her about God’s forgiveness, I guess she figured I’d be willing to do the same.”

“Not so easy, is it?”

She shook her head. “No. And the thing is, I don’t even want to try and forgive her—or you. I’m not proud of how I feel, but at least I’m telling you the truth.”

“And I’s not proud of livin’ a lie, Jarena. All I can say is we did the best we knowed how. Your mama and me loved you the best we could, and so far as we was concerned, you was and is our chil’. Ain’t no piece of paper gonna ever change how I feel ’bout you.” His eyes rounded as he looked off to the north. “Fire!”

As soon as he’d said the words, Jarena could smell smoke. Her father grabbed her hand and pulled her along toward the house. He hollered for Moses to begin wetting down burlap sacks as they neared the soddy. After ordering Grace and Jarena to fill the water barrels and protect the house as best they could, he and Moses hurried toward the fire, carrying a pitchfork and the wet sacks.

Jarena and Grace took all the buckets they could find and ran to the river. The men were still within sight when Grace began to anxiously question Jarena. Although Jarena was uncertain how much she should divulge, she tossed caution to the wind and truthfully answered all of Grace’s difficult questions. When she had finished, Grace was teary-eyed, shaken by the startling disclosures.

Grace dipped her bucket into the river and watched as it filled with water. “But you’ll always be my sister, won’t you?”

A pain stabbed Jarena’s heart. A part of her wanted to hurt this sweet doe-eyed girl she had nurtured throughout the years, for she wanted someone else to experience the keen ache, the anger and deceit, the deprivation of family that had transpired with only a few spoken words and a piece of paper. But she couldn’t. “Yes, Grace. I love you, and you’ll always be my little sister.”

“If you want, I’ll go back with Moses and take care of Mrs. Boyle and Aunt Lilly. That way, you wouldn’t have to be around Aunt Lilly, and you and Pappy could mend your feelings.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’d rather be in Hill City. Moses may receive further word from Fort Con-cho, and I want to be nearby.”

Grace frowned as they hurried back to the house. “So you think there’s still a chance Thomas is . . . ?”

“Yes, Thomas could still be alive. I’m not going to give up.”

Ezekiel and Moses were nearly three miles from the house before they arrived at the blaze. At least ten sweating men were already fighting desperately with wet sacks, scoops, shovels, and anything else they could find, shouting orders and warnings, retreating when too hard-pressed by the flames, stopping occasionally to drink the water the women and children carried to them before beginning the battle anew.

An hour later, the men corralled the licking flames into the river’s bend, where the fire eagerly leapt in a roaring blaze, threatening the dry grass that edged the far bank of the river. Before the blaze finally succumbed, a few unyielding sparks flew to the other side of the bank, but the burning embers were promptly smothered by several men waiting there with wet sacks.

Finally certain no danger remained, Ezekiel and Moses started back for home, with soot clogging their nostrils and smoke clinging to their clothes but thankful lives and crops had been spared this time.

The moon shone down as the two men silently trod back toward the soddy through the brown-black carpet of fire-scorched grass, each of them lost in his private thoughts. Ezekiel was sure Moses was thinking about Truth. Meanwhile, Ezekiel was thinking about his older daughter, worried that the anger burning in Jarena’s heart would be far more difficult to extinguish than a blazing prairie fire.

CHAPTER
24

New York City

T
wisting her arm free from his wrenching grasp, Truth turned to see Marvin Laird’s despicable sneer riveted upon her. He pinned her against the kitchen wall, his body quickly forming a prison from which she could not escape. Fear clawed at her throat and prevented even the slightest cry for help.

“You’ve been misbehaving, young lady.”

She shook her head in wild abandon. “No.” The single word was as much as she could force from her lips.

“You should remember that the bedroom occupied by Janet and Inez shares an adjoining wall with Macia’s room. They tell me an entirely different story from yours. In fact, their tale is quite interesting. And though I didn’t want to believe them, they have now convinced me that you are a devious young lady intent on leading others astray. You’ve broken my trust with your lack of character.”

When Mr. Laird patted his chest as though heartbroken, Truth regained her pluck and dodged away from his hold. “
My
lack of character? I daresay you don’t even know the meaning of character!”

“Be very careful, Truth. Remember that you are under my control, and I hold all of the advantages. Henceforth you will do exactly as you are told.” His features suddenly relaxed, and he stepped back. “Those of us in charge of the school have decided you should sleep in Macia’s room. In fact, you will be spending almost
all
of your time with Macia.

I know this will please you immensely.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He placed a finger to his lips and studied her. “I think you already know why. You’ve forced this upon yourself, my dear. When you begin plotting and attempting to undermine those in authority, you must surely realize your privileges will be withdrawn.”

“Privileges? I’m not one of your students, Mr. Laird. I was sent here to accompany Macia Boyle back to Kansas, and that’s what I still intend to do.”

“You see? You’re such a headstrong girl—downright defiant at times. In the future, you will lend minimal assistance to Daisy. You will not speak to Silas, nor will you go to the carriage house at any time.

Have I made myself clear?”

Truth’s palms turned clammy. Not talk to Silas? How would they ever finalize a workable plan of escape? They’d had little enough success even when they’d had their evenings together.

“I’ll need to gather my belongings.”

“Daisy has already seen to that. Your bags are upstairs in Macia’s room, and I’ve had a cot placed near her bed.” Mr. Laird pulled his pocket watch from his jacket and viewed the time. “In fact, you may go upstairs now. Do not leave the room unless you are summoned by Daisy or another member of the staff. And that does
not
include Silas. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

Truth remained silent. If she spoke, she would likely say something she would regret.

Mr. Laird flicked his hand at her as though she were a pesky fly. “Go on now. I have other matters that require my attention, but remember what I’ve told you.”

Hastening from the room, Truth could feel Mr. Laird watching her. She marched up the stairs, her anger mounting as she climbed each step. How dare Inez and Janet spy on her and then report their findings to Mr. Laird! They’d likely been holding a water glass to the wall and listening to every word uttered in Macia’s room. She’d like to tell the two of them they were placing Macia’s life in jeopardy, but that would do little good. They would report those words to Mr. Laird, too. Instead, she must be more vigilant—and quiet. However, the latter might prove difficult. As time passed, Macia had grown increasingly loud and belligerent during her waking hours—and much more difficult to calm. Somehow she must find a way—a way to keep Macia quiet and a way out of this house and back home.

Mr. Laird had been correct: Her baggage was in Macia’s room, and a small cot had been set up alongside one wall. Of course, Macia was sleeping soundly. Truth opened her large satchel and lifted out a shirtwaist. Wait . . . perhaps she shouldn’t unpack. If she and Silas were going to leave, she’d want to be prepared—and if anyone questioned her, she could merely claim an inadequate amount of storage space in the room.

Somehow this decision was a comfort, an affirmation that she would leave this place one day. As she refolded and tucked the shirtwaist back into her valise, Truth’s finger scraped across a piece of cardboard. She examined her finger and then dug into the valise for the cardboard sheet. A recent train schedule! Either Silas or Daisy must have placed it in her valise before delivering the baggage to Macia’s room. Her excitement grew as she studied the list. Possibly Daisy would agree to carry messages back and forth to Silas, and they could continue to plan their escape.

As Macia began to stir, Truth quickly tucked the schedule back into her suitcase. She would locate a better hiding spot later. She stood beside the bed.

“Is there anything you need, Macia? A glass of water? Would you like to sit up for a while?”

“Yes, Truth. Please help me into the chair.”

After she was situated, Macia grasped Truth’s hand. “Earlier in the week, I was having nightmares. Terrible dreams. A man who looked like Mr. Laird was dressed in white and told me my parents had died.

He handed me a paper to sign. I argued, saying I didn’t understand, but he said he’d take care of everything if I signed the papers. It all seemed so real. My parents—are they dead?”

“They are very much alive. Would you like to go home and see them soon?”

Macia was more lucid than Truth had seen her in weeks. “Yes, I would. Why don’t you make arrangements with the school for my departure? Do you think you could manage the task on my behalf?”