Rapture's Rendezvous (47 page)

“Tales?” Alberto shouted. “Tales? You speak of tales when our Papa is lying dead? It's because of these tales of truth that Nathan Hawkins resorted to fencing in the coal mine and placing machine guns everywhere, and that searchlight on the mine's tipple. If our men would've listened sooner to these ‘tales,' as you choose to call them, then we would've seen investigators coming to this coal mine and would've seen improvements in everything about our life around here. No. Nathan Hawkins is a liar. Don't ever doubt that for a moment.”

“What are the whisperings about? The ones I heard at the funeral?”

“We are going to get Nathan Hawkins. Tomorrow night. When all his men are asleep. In the middle of the night. We are going to get Nathan Hawkins.”

“Do you . .. really .. . mean … ?”

Alberto laughed hoarsely. “Yes. Exactly.”

“It's all such a nightmare,” Maria said, pulling the satin drapery aside, looking down upon the hustle and bustle of the crowds along the streets and walks of Saint Louis.

“What is, darling?” Michael asked, turning her, sweeping her into his arms. He traced her birthmark with the tip of a finger, then kissed it gently.

“That last terrible night in Hawkinsville,” she murmured.

“The night you became a . . . uh . . . widow?”

Maria lowered her eyes. “Yes. Yes, that night,” she gulped, remembering it so vividly, she felt as though she was experiencing it all over again. If she closed her eyes, she could see again the way the sky had lit up in bright red. Against the blackness of the night, it had been so evident what had happened. The mob had set fire to Nathan's house. And when she had heard the one gunshot being fired, echoing over and over again in her ears, she had known who had been the recipient of that lone bullet. The coal miners had gone to rid the earth of Nathan and they had succeeded. One act of violence had sparked many more, to end up with the death of Nathan. The men had acted while Nathan's men slept, and once Nathan's men had been awakened
to the sure sounds of violence, they had fled, leaving Hawkinsville to its Italian inhabitants.

“Can't you just forget it?” Michael asked, holding her closely, putting his nose into the depths of her hair.

“But how could the Italian people perform an act of murder so easily? Don't they have . . . any .. . con-science?”

“Darling, please. . . .” Michael whispered.

“To all be involved in the way they were,” she continued. “It was a conspiracy. I still can't believe it, even though Alberto warned me before it even happened. I didn't believe they would go through with it. And Alberto? He was among those who circled Nathan's house. How do I know that it wasn't even Alberto himself who pulled the trigger of the murder weapon?”

Michael pushed her away from him, to hold her at arm's length, scowling. “But, darling, don't you see? That's why all are protected,” he said. “Each man who chose to go that night held a gun. Each had pointed that gun toward the house, waiting for Nathan's exit. The men were clever enough to have emptied the chamber of one bullet of each gun, all but one gun, held by the man who would shoot Nathan, so that all the guns would have the same amount of bullets left in their chambers once the fatal shot was fired. Only the coal miners know who it was who fired that fatal shot. No one else. And no one is talking. No court in America would send fifty men to jail for that one crime without having proof or a witness to swear to the one who had fired that one shot. So will you please quit worrying your mind so over it? In the eyes of the law, all have been cleared of the crime. So must you. You hated the man. Now he is gone. He's no longer around to
make lives miserable. The world is rid of vermin. Think of it that way.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I guess my mind will be full of the terror of that night for much longer than I have control over.”

“Darling, I. . ..” Michael began, but was stopped by Maria's further words.

“I am so glad you weren't involved. Oh, so glad,” she murmured. “If you had been, I would always wonder if it had been you who had pulled the gun's trigger. I don't think I could bear such a life of doubt about you.”

Michael's face reddened. He had come close to confessing his role in the shooting . . . that it was he who had sneaked the guns to the men .. . that it was he who had devised the whole thing He had thought she would be proud, but instead. . . . She could never know the complete truth. No. Never!

“Just be glad that Mama Pearl's life was saved,” he said. “At least she escaped unharmed.”

“But what if she hadn't?”

“But-she
did
and she is now with us. She will remain on as our maid. We couldn't have gotten better.”

“Yes, you are right, my love,” Maria said.

Her eyes raked over Michael and she thought how handsome he was on this fine day that was to be the opening of the Saint Louis World's Fair. He looked quite dignified in his navy blue, pin-striped suit, worn with a pale blue pure silk shirt with a detachable collar. His diamond stickpin shone back at her from his navy blue cravat in colors of the rainbow and his eyes were twinkling in many different shades of blue.

She reached up and ran her fingers across the smoothness of his golden hair, then over the gentleness
of his jaw. When a smile lifted the corners of his lips, she felt as though she was melting inside. Would he always have the same effect on her? She leaned into his embrace, sighing heavily. If anyone could make her forget the torment she had only recently gone through, Michael could. Footsteps entering the room made Maria turn with a start. Then she smiled….

“I think I've got the weddin' gown ready for ya'all, Sweet Thing,” Mama Pearl said, moving toward Maria with an armful of what appeared to be only white lace. She then held this gathering of lace up before her and watched Maria's face light up.

“It is simply gorgeous, Mama Pearl,” Maria gasped, going to run her fingers over the lines of the gown. It was of organza and Alencon lace, studded with seed pearls. It would be worn with a lace face veil in front, and a fingertip veil in back. Also, a chapel-length train would be added on the day of the wedding, also covered with lace appliques.

“So mah Sweet Baby likes it?” Mama Pearl said, squinting her dark eyes that were already mostly hidden by the wrinkled flesh of her face.

“It's breathtaking,” Maria sighed, lifting the skirt of the gown, letting it ripple slowly back in deep gathers in Mama Pearl's arms. “I can hardly wait,” she added.

“It won't be long now.” Mama Pearl giggled. “And do ya'all think Alberto's Angelina will have such a gown? A double weddin' sho will be somethin' special. A weddin' of twins marryin' up with their loved ones. Both brides should be extraordinarily beautiful.”

“Yes. I've spoken with Angelina by phone,” Maria said. “Angelina and I don't want exact gowns, you know. So she has ordered a gown that will have tripled
layers of ivory silk organza, with a chapel-length train and embroidered bodice. It will also have a pouf-sleeved jacket with a peplum and a high ruffled neckline. Her veil will be in Alencon lace and organza.”

Michael laughed heartily as he took Maria's hands in his. “How'd you memorize all of that?”

Maria blushed a bit. “Whenever it is a wedding gown being spoken of, a woman remembers each and every detail.”

“I'm so glad that Alberto and Angelina will arrive on time for the ceremony.”

“Alberto seems to have everything in order at Hawkinsville now. Once the state investigators okayed the return of the men to the coal mine, it took a load off Alberto's shoulders.”

“If anyone should know that, I should,” Michael said, kissing Maria's right hand, then releasing both, to move to the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a glass of port. “Want a glass, darling?” he asked, tilting a brow in her direction.

“No. Not really,” she murmured.

“And you, Mama Pearl?” he asked, extending a full glass in her direction.

Mama Pearl giggled a bit. “No, Mastah Hoppah. I've got chores waitin'. Just ya'all and my Sweet Baby enjoy.” She swung around, heavy-hipped in her cotton attire, and lumbered from the room.

Maria went and eased onto a deeply upholstered velveteen chair. She looked around her, seeing the expensive furnishings of this hotel suite, which she and Michael had been sharing with Mama Pearl until Michael's penthouse apartment would be finished. This hotel suite was quite comfortable, with its rich
ness of furnishings and draperies. Its pale green carpet-ings stretched out from wall to wall and from room to room. The wallpaperings were of peaceful designs in pale gold, and the electric lights added a pleasurable glow to the room.

Michael settled down across from her and lighted a cigar. Then with a cigar between his fingers of one hand, and his glass of port in the other, he sighed leisurely. “Yep. Sure glad to have Mama Pearl around,” he said. “Then when we start having our children in twos, you can just sit back and relax and enjoy watching them grow.”

“In twos . . •. ?”

“You and Alberto? You're twins. Maybe we'll add another set of twins to the family.”

Maria laughed lightly. “I'm not so sure. . . .” she said.

He laughed amusedly, then said, “Do you like the idea of having a double wedding, darling?”

“Yes. It will complete the bond between Alberto and myself. Then we can make our much needed separa-tion—when he walks from the church with his wife … and I walk from the church with my husband. I think it's quite appropriate. And thank you for doing this for us all. You know that Alberto wouldn't be able to have such an expensive wedding otherwise. And the gown you have purchased for Angelina! Michael, you continue to amaze me with your kindness.”

“Well, I like happy endings,” he laughed gruffly.

“And this will be just that,” Maria said. “This will be.”

“You look quite beautiful today, darling,” Michael said thickly. “Do you know how beautiful?”

Maria glanced downward at her suit, fingering its velvet trim. She loved this Eton suit in blue broadcloth trimmed with folds of matching velvet. And then she reached up and touched the hat that she already had perched atop her head, ready for their escape into the afternoon sun. It was of a toque style with a velvet brim and a silk crown and bow. She knew that she was a picture of style, but she still hated the tightly laced corset that kept her panting for breath at times.

“I do feel fit as a fiddle in these clothes,” she finally answered. “Again, Michael, you are too kind.”

“You must get used to my whims,” he laughed throatily. “Each day I might pop in with a new hat for you. Who knows?”

Maria's face darkened, remembering the large array of hats that had burned in Nathan's house. He had been as generous in his own devious ways. He had almost bought out the stores their one time in Saint Louis. She turned her eyes away from Michael, trying to hide the shadows that had crept across her face. She wanted so badly to forget. She had to forget. It was all behind her now. The Italian community was safe now. Their living conditions were being improved as each day passed. Alberto had taken charge. With the money loaned to him and the families of Hawkinsville by the United Mine Workers of America, running water had been installed in each household, electricity had been wired, and a siding of sorts had been nailed outside each house, enabling the people to stay warmer in the upcoming storms of winter.

“Darling,” Michael said. “You are lost in thought once again.”

Maria turned her eyes to him, fluttering her lashes
nervously. “Yes. I do that. I'm sorry,” she murmured.

“You know the mine is safe now,” he said. “Alberto is safe working the mines now as are all the other coal miners. Isn't that what we were striving for? Didn't the union make coal mining safer and more secure economically for your people? You shouldn't fret any longer.”

“But my mind has been drawn back to . . . what was found when the investigators searched deep inside the coal mine,” she uttered, covering her mouth with her hands, feeling sick inside all over again. If not for Michael and the persistence of his men, would she in the end have also been found there—decapitated . . . dead … ?

Michael took a quick swallow of port, then puffed angrily on his cigar. “Yes. I know what you are thinking of,” he said hoarsely. “You are remembering the . . . uh . .. women's bodies found when the investigators worked their way to the back of the mine. The earlier wives of Nathan Hawkins.”

“Yes,” she murmured. “I'm remembering that. What if… ?” She couldn't help but shudder.

“But, he didn't get the chance, did he?” Michael reassured her. “Now we know
all
the reasons for his protecting his mine from the snooping of investigators. He had used the mine for a grave. A dark, deep grave.” He looked heavy-lidded toward Maria. “You are safe. Thank God you are safe. Nathan Hawkins didn't get the chance to”do . . . uh the . . . same with you.. . .”

“Only because I was with him for such a short time,” she stammered. “What if . . . ?”

“Enough of such talk,” Michael said, rising, taking his empty glass to the liquor cabinet. “Let's concen
trate on plcasanter things. Let's head on to the fair. What do you say?” He mashed his cigar out in an ashtray, then offered her his arm.

“Yes, let's,” Maria said, pushing herself up from the chair. She accepted Michael's arm and walked with him from their suite, on out into the hallway, and watched as he pressed the button for the elevator.

“Ready to ride the moving box once again?” Michael teased, laughing.

Maria's heartbeat began to hasten. She didn't like to disclose her fears of this box to Michael. She didn't want him to think her a child, with childish notions. But the elevator always set her worst fears in action. What if the box fell? What if the box doors didn't open and they were trapped … ?