Morning Song (21 page)

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Authors: Karen Robards

BOOK: Morning Song
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Though, to Jessie's thinking, such precautions on Stuart's part were a waste of time. Celia had men in her blood, and if she didn't find a willing partner in one place, she would in another. Like on her own property during the long, hot afternoons. October came. The weather cooled. Mitch Todd rode over with Billy Cummings late one day, surprising Jessie just as she was getting ready to slip away from the house. Celia had vanished as she usually did after luncheon, not to return until it was time to dress for dinner. Jessie wanted to make sure that she was out of range of Celia's verbal arrows before her stepmother got back to the house. Lately Celia was lashing out at everything and everyone with increasing viciousness. Besides Stuart, Jessie was her favorite target.

"Will you be going to the Culpeppers' next week, Miss Jessie?" Jessie was seated on the topmost of the steps leading to the upper veranda. Billy Cummings, a lanky blond twenty-year-old, sat some two steps below her. He was looking up at her eagerly as he spoke.

"Well, I . . ."

"You have to come. The dance won't be any fun if you don't." Mitch flashed his lopsided grin, and Jessie wondered why it no longer made her heart go pitty-pat. He sat on the same step as Billy Cummings, on the extreme left of the stairway instead of the extreme right. With Jessie positioned above and between them, she could converse with both equally well. Looking down at them, she wondered that she had ever been in awe of these two. Both were handsome, tall, upright young men, and both were older than she by a year or two, but still, they were no more than boys. She felt older than they by far.

179

"You know as well as I do that I'm no great shakes on the dance floor, Mitchell Todd." Jessie spoke pertly, with a glimmering smile for the boy who had once owned her heart. His grin broadened.

"Who cares how well you dance?" he answered. "What matters is how pretty you look doing it."

"And you sure do look pretty," Billy chimed in, anxious not to be outdone by his rival. Jessie smiled at both of them. She was wearing a short-sleeved, tight-to-the-waist afternoon dress of white muslin trimmed in emerald green. The neckline was edged with a cunning stand-up frill of white lace, and more white lace trimmed the sleeves and hem. Her hair curled down her back to her hips, and was caught away from her face with an emeraldgreen satin bow at the crown. The dress was lovely, the color flattering, and she did look pretty, she knew. That knowledge enabled her to reply to the compliment with a laugh instead of a blush.

"You tell the biggest fibs, Billy Cummings," she said in the same teasing voice she'd heard the other girls use. Billy protested, a hand pressed to his heart to underline his sincerity. Jessie laughed at him.

"Entertaining, Jessie?" Celia stepped out onto the veranda from inside the house, which she must have entered from the rear. Jessie looked around at her stepmother, her gay smile faltering. Celia's behavior of late had been unpredictable, but surely she wouldn't embarrass Jessie in front of the sons of her neighbors.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Edwards." Mitch spoke up, saving Jessie from answering. Billy echoed the greeting as both boys rose politely to their feet.

180

"Hello, gentlemen." Celia was already dressed for supper in a lavender-blue gown whose flattering hue eased some of the new hardness from her face. She smiled at the visitors, waved them down again, then turned to Jessie. As she looked her stepdaughter over, Celia's smile stayed in place, but her eyes chilled.

"Where's Tudi? Or Sissie?"

"Inside, I would imagine." Jessie's tone was guarded. She'd heard that brittle note in Celia's voice before, and it usually presaged trouble.

"You should not be receiving guests on your own, you know, dear. These gentlemen will think you have the manners of a ragamuffin." Celia smiled her crocodile smile at the young men, who were beginning to appear uncomfortable. Inwardly Jessie cringed. Celia was not going to be deterred by the presence of guests after all.

The big bell on the plantation began to ring, signaling the end of the workday and saving the situation at the same time. No sooner had the first peal reverberated over the landscape than Stuart rode up with Gray don Bradshaw. At the sound of the horses, Jessie looked around. In the distance she could see the fields emptying, and the long column of the slaves as they walked and rode muleback down the road toward home. The volume of the spirituals swelled as the weary singers drew closer, then turned off on the other side of the orchard to head for the quarters and their evening meal.

Stuart and Graydon Bradshaw dismounted. Thomas ran up to take the horses. The two men started up the steps as Thomas led Saber and Bradshaw's mount away. This time Jessie stood up along with Mitch and Billy to get out of Stuart's way as he 181

climbed. Though she despised herself for it, her eyes greedily drank in the first sight of him she'd had in days. He was sweaty, his black hair curling damply around his head where he'd taken off his hat, his stubble darkening cheeks that had been tinted the color of teak by the sun, his white shirt sporting a long smear of dirt, his black breeches and usually immaculate boots dusty. It was one of the few times she had ever seen him disheveled. Curiously, it didn't detract from his dazzling attraction one whit. Behind him, Graydon Bradshaw was in a like state, but Jessie had eyes for no one but Stuart. For her, Bradshaw might not even have existed.

In the distance the bell pealed one last time and stopped. The spirituals faltered as one after the other of the singers dropped out, then finally died away altogether.

"You're going to be late for supper, as usual." Celia was looking at Stuart, who had just stepped onto the veranda. Her voice had an edge to it that Jessie hoped only those who knew her well would catch.

"I'll be changed in a minute. Gray, you're welcome to join us if you'd like. Jessie, did you invite your friends to eat?" The very idea of sitting in the dining room with Stuart and Celia taking potshots at each other while she strove to distract Mitch and Billy made Jessie squirm, but there was no help for it now. So she forced a smile at Stuart, then turned to the young men, who stood behind her.

"We'd be glad to have you to supper, if you'd care to stay." Both Mitch and Billy assented eagerly. After exchanging pleasantries with them and waving Bradshaw off to change, Stuart turned to say something quietly to his wife. Celia had been conversing with Jessie's guests for some few minutes, her 182

manner one of brittle flirtatiousness that was designed, Jessie had no doubt, to infuriate Stuart. That he noticed and was annoyed Jessie could tell by the tightening of his face. The stage was clearly set for a terrible quarrel, and the knowledge made her dread the coming meal more with every moment that passed. Whatever Stuart said to Celia was inaudible to everyone else, but it made her face redden furiously. Jessie held her breath; the explosion she had feared was clearly at hand. But Stuart headed off the threatened scene with a single warning look at his wife. Moving quickly, though without giving the least impression of speed, he then caught Celia by the arm in a hold that Jessie supposed might look loving to an observer who had no idea how things stood between them, and drew her with him toward the door.

"Jessie, you can tell Rosa we'll be ready to eat in twenty minutes," he said over his shoulder, his manner still perfectly pleasant. Jessie thought that only someone who knew him as well as she did would be able to detect the anger that simmered beneath the untroubled front he presented to their guests. She supposed that to a casual acquaintance his hand on Celia's arm would look possessive rather than confining, and despite their differences he and Celia still made an attractive couple, her petite blondness the perfect foil for his dark good looks. But Jessie had no doubt that a fierce marital quarrel would ensue in the next few minutes, and she only hoped it would be one of their quieter ones. She had no wish to be embarrassed before their guests. A marital quarrel. Even such unpleasantness as that had an intimacy about it that bothered Jessie. It brought home to her the fact that, however much Stuart might despise Celia, and vice versa, they were married. Joined until death parted them. Stuart 183

had kissed her twice, once in gratitude and once in anger. But he was wed to Celia. Jessie knew,
knew,
that she'd be wise to remember that.

But no matter what she knew, as she watched them go inside together Jessie felt a funny tightening in the pit of her stomach. For a moment only, she was surprised: as tense as she was, she hadn't expected to feel hungry. Then she realized that what she was feeling wasn't hunger at all.

Ridiculously, idiotically, she was feeling jealous of Celia.

XXV

To
Jessie's surprise, the evening passed pleasantly enough. If Stuart and Celia had quarreled— and although Jessie hadn't actually seen them, she was sure they had—there was no outward sign of it. Celia managed to curb her tongue for the duration of the meal and was no more flirtatious with Mitch or Billy than was appropriate. In fact, she addressed most of her remarks to her cousin Gray, and left the entertaining of Jessie's guests to Jessie herself, and to Stuart.

Jessie was almost amused to discover that the younger men addressed Stuart with veneration, as if he were a generation rather than less than a decade older than they. He, in turn, adopted an avuncular manner toward them that was equally inappropriate. Or maybe not. Chronologically, the age difference might not be that great, but there was a tremendous gulf between them in bearing and experience.

After the meal, the company, with the exception of Celia, who pleaded a headache, retired to the porch. Stuart and Gray blew a 184

cloud, while the younger men vied for Jessie's attention. Conscious of Stuart's watchful presence even as he talked lazily to Gray, Jessie went out of her way to respond to her visitors'

compliments and quips.

When it grew dark enough so that Sissie began lighting the lamps inside, Stuart stood up and tossed his cheroot over the side of the porch.

"Well, Gray and I have work to do. Jessie, you won't be out here long, will you?"

"We're just leaving, Mr. Edwards. Thank you for supper." Mitch and Billy stood hastily at Stuart's none-too-subtle hint, but it was Billy who spoke. Mitch echoed his thanks for the meal. Stuart nodded at them both and invited them to come back anytime. Then, with Gray at his heels, he headed inside for, presumably, the library, where he did most of the plantation's paperwork.

"Thomas, you go get Mr. Todd's and Mr. Cummings' horses," Jessie called down to the shadow she saw sidling around the corner of the house. Thomas was on his way to Rosa's kitchen, she knew. After supper was his favorite time for begging tidbits.

"Yes'm, Miss Jessie," Thomas yelled back, although Jessie thought she detected a shade of reluctance in his reply. She grinned. Rosa had served fresh ham and yams for supper, followed by molasses pie. Molasses pie was Thomas's favorite food in the world, and it was clear that he feared missing out. But Rosa would undoubtedly save him a slice, so Jessie didn't feel particularly guilty about depriving him of his treat.

"Will
you be going to the Culpeppers'?" Mitch asked in a low voice as Billy turned to retrieve his hat from the seat of a rocker. 185

"You'll just have to wait and see," Jessie responded with a glimmering smile. Really, she did like Mitch. He was the handsomest boy for miles around (although he paled in comparison with Stuart's hard male splendor, a thought that Jessie resolutely dismissed almost as soon as it occurred). And he was kind, and good-natured, and . . .

"Do you think it'd be all right if I stayed for a little longer?

There's something I really want to say to you," Mitch whispered hastily just as Billy came back, hat in hand.

"What are you whispering to Miss Jessie about? If I didn't know you so well, I'd swear you were trying to steal a march on me." Billy regarded his friend with a scowl, then thrust Mitch's hat at him while retaining his own. "Here, I got your hat for you."

Mitch accepted the hat, but made no move to place it on his head as Billy had his.

"It's none of your business what I say to Miss Jessie. And you can just go on home without me. We go back in different directions, anyhow."

"I'm not leaving you here alone with her!"

"Are you trying to be insulting? If you are, then you better be prepared to back your mouth up with your fists!" To Jessie's alarm, the two young men were suddenly nose to nose, glaring at each other as though they were mortal enemies instead of friends. Quickly she put a hand on each one's arm.

"Mr. Todd! Mr. Cummings! Please!"

They looked down at her, suddenly shamefaced, and turned away from each other.

"Sorry, Miss Jessie," Billy muttered sheepishly, while sneaking in a scowl at Mitch.

186

"That's all right, Mr. Cummings. Just because Mr. Todd was so nasty to you, I'll save you a dance at the Culpeppers'."

"You
are
going!" Both young men were immediately all attention.

"I suppose."

"That's wonderful. Just wonderful! And you'll save me a dance." Billy grinned at her, then looked triumphantly at Mitch.

"You notice she didn't say she'd save you a dance."

"Get out of here, braggart, before I remember we're supposed to be friends." Mitch gave Billy a cuff on the arm, but this time it was clear that he was only funning.

Billy grinned, picked up Jessie's hand, and before she knew quite what he meant to do, carried it to his mouth.

"I suppose I'll let this bouncer drive me away, but at least I'll leave you thinking about me."

With that Billy pressed a quick kiss onto the back of her hand, then released it with a flourish to run down the stairs to where Thomas waited with his horse. Mitch scowled after him. Jessie laughed. She quite liked Billy Cummings, too. Maybe, just maybe, if she gave herself a chance, she could find someone who had the same effect on her that Stuart had. Someone available. Someone like Billy, or Mitch.

"Now what did you want to say to me?" she asked Mitch pertly after they watched Billy ride away.

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