Say You Love Me (5 page)

She also never complained that her mother mistreated her, but Michael had his suspicions about that, too, and felt her constant cheerfulness was actually a facade to hide the misery she endured at home.

It had always seemed to him that Violet only tolerated her daughter, that she felt that Jacie was actually in the way of her adoration for her husband.

But Michael could not dwell on his love for Jacie or his concern over her unhappy parents, because he was determined to show everyone he was capable of running the plantation at least as well as his father had done. By working tirelessly, he had succeeded in doubling cotton and corn production and at the end of two years was richer than his father had ever been.

He was proud of his accomplishment but happier still that the time had finally come when he could remove the crepe band from his arm and officially come out of mourning. His mother would probably, as some widows chose to do, wear black for the rest of her life.

He was still gazing at the necklace and dreaming of the happiness ahead when his mother tapped on the study door as she opened it. "Michael, I want you to—" she began, then stopped short. Too late, Michael put the necklace back in the box.

"What do you have there?" she asked, hurrying to the desk. "Let me see. Is it Jacie's present? You told me you were having something made in Atlanta."

Michael braced himself. He had hesitated to show it to her, dreading her reaction. Reluctantly, he opened the box.

Olivia gasped and sank into the nearest chair. The piece was decidedly finer and more expensive than any of her own jewelry.

"I designed it myself," Michael told her.

"I think this is far too extravagant for a birthday gift," she commented archly.

"It's more than that," he said evenly.

Their gazes locked, each challenging. Finally Olivia said, "I think it's too soon, Michael."

"Father has been dead two years, Mother." He got up and went to put the necklace back in the safe. "I've waited long enough. I'm going to ask Jacie to marry me at the party. She can set the wedding date any time she wants. The sooner the better, as far as I'm concerned.

"I know you don't approve of her," he added coolly, "but I love her. I always have and always will."

"I just worry about what people will say, Michael. I'm afraid she won't settle down after you're married. The Blake name is highly respected, and—"

"And
what?"
he flared. "What are you trying to say, Mother? There has never been a breath of scandal about Jacie. True, she's mischievous now and then, but always she is a lady."

"She was not behaving like a lady when she rode that horse, using a man's saddle no less, and tried to jump that hurdle. Not only did she nearly get herself killed, but she brought back terrible memories." Olivia blinked and dabbed at her eyes with the lace handkerchief she plucked from her sleeve.

"She meant no harm."

"I expect you to honor your father's decree that jumping is forbidden at Red Oakes. And another thing, people are already talking about her and that old fool Indian. That's why I came in here to see you. I want you to forbid her to see him. Why doesn't the law do something about him, anyway?

"I mean it," she said waspishly as she stood to leave. "You put a stop to it. You tell her if she is going to be a Blake, she can start behaving like one by not associating with savages."

Michael could only stare after her as she headed for the door. He was not about to reveal that Jacie was quite stubborn about her friendship with Mehlonga.

Olivia turned. "One more thing. You will need to send a carriage to Atlanta to meet the morning train from Charleston."

"And who is coming from Charleston, Mother?" As if he didn't know.

"Why, Cousin Verena and Cousin Elyse, of course. You didn't think they would miss a party at Red Oakes, did you?"

"I didn't want them here. I intentionally left their names off the list."

"And I intentionally included them. They always look forward to visiting."

"They don't know when to leave. We have a wedding to plan, and I don't need Verena interfering. She always puts her nose in family business."

"Verena adores you. She'll want to share all the excitement."

Michael was about to protest but his mother breezed out the door, effectively ending the conversation. He slumped in his chair, miserable.

He did not mind being around Elyse. She was nearly his age and sweet and charming. If not for his losing his heart to Jacie all those years ago, maybe he would have given serious consideration to marrying Elyse. They got on well together, and he hoped she and Jacie would be good friends.

It was Elyse's mother, Verena, first cousin to his father, that Michael did not particularly enjoy being around. She always sided with his mother in any dispute, especially one concerning him, and he knew once she heard about Jacie's friendship with an Indian, she would be openly critical.

But there was no more time to brood over unwelcome house guests. Glancing at the wall clock at the sound of a knock on the door, he saw that Zach Newton was right on time. Michael had postponed talking to the overseer about the jumping incident until his temper had cooled. "Come in," he called.

Zach entered and drew a deep breath, savoring the delicious smell of the fine leather furniture. He liked this room but didn't get to see it often. He could just imagine sitting himself down in the big sofa in front of a roaring fire on a cold winter day, a snifter of good brandy in his hand. But he was never called in for social reasons, and by the way Michael was glaring at him through steepled fingers from behind his big mahogany desk, Zach knew he was in trouble.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I think you know why," Michael said tightly.

"Miss Jacie asked me to teach her to jump. I didn't see no harm."

Michael suddenly slammed both his fists on the desk. "She could have been killed, and you know jumping horses is forbidden here!" he shouted at the overseer.

Zach did not wither before Michael's angry glare and fired back in defiance, "Miss Jacie is a good rider. She wouldn't have fallen if you hadn't scared her the way you did. As for not allowin' jumpin', that's a ridiculous rule and—"

"That is not for you to decide!" Michael bolted to his feet. "Get something straight, Newton. I make the rules, and you either follow them or get your gear and get off my land. The only reason I'm not kicking your butt over this is that Jacie made me promise not to. Now get out of here before I do it anyway, damn you."

Zach turned on his heel and hurried out, silently cursing all the while. Damn wet-behind-the-ears upstart. Who did he thank he was, threatening to beat up on him? Zach just wished he would try, because he would find out just how little a fancy education in Europe meant in a fight.

As for Jacie, Zach knew now she had to feel something for him, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered to take up for him like she had, telling Blake to go easy. Maybe one day he would have his chance with her, after all. Married women took lovers sometimes, and once she got a taste of a sissy like Blake, Zach would be only too glad to show her what it was like to tumble in bed with a real man.

Chapter 3

Halsey Blake had known from the first pair of horseshoes Judd Calhoun struck that he had found a treasure of a blacksmith. He knew just how to hone the heel calk and how to round the nail crease for a perfect fit. Big and brawny, Judd could make the anvil sing.

Judd had been desperate for work, having just returned from Texas with a wife and baby. Halsey wanted to keep him around, so he had a better cabin built for him than the one he usually provided, which was a mere square pen of logs roofed over with boards supported by rough posts at the door. Halsey even let Judd pick the site, a picturesque knoll overlooking the winding Oconee River. The cabin was elevated three feet above the ground on four corner posts, so air could circulate beneath. The fireplace was at one end, made of sticks and clay, the chimney carried up outside. The roof was extended to hang over the porch.

But it was not the porch Judd preferred. He liked to sit out on the lawn beneath a spreading mimosa tree, where he now aimlessly whittled at a stick while waiting for the Blake carriage to arrive. He wished he didn't have to go to the party. Brushing wood shavings from his new trousers, he thought again how silly he felt to be wearing a frock coat. But Michael had insisted, ordering him to be fitted by his own tailor and footing the bill himself. Judd figured he would get three wearings out of his outfit—today's party, Jacie's wedding, and one day down the road, his own funeral.

One down, two to go, he thought mirthlessly. Not that he had any fear of dying. No, he reckoned he'd had a real good life, considering other folks. But there were times when he wondered how things would have been if he'd stayed in Texas. He had liked being a Ranger. But when the Indians had slaughtered poor Iris and her family, Judd couldn't wait to take his baby daughter and get the hell out of that wild land.

"Well, Daddy, how do I look?"

He looked toward the house. A lump came into his throat as he saw Jacie and was struck as always by how she was the spitting image of her aunt Iris. And he had never seen her look prettier. Her ebony-colored hair was pulled back and held by a tiny cluster of fragrant gardenia blossoms, soft ringlets tumbling to her golden-tanned shoulders. Her gown was fashioned of deep purple silk and satin and overlaid with delicate pink lace flounces on the bodice and the skirt, and she wore elbow-length gloves of white lace and a sheer stole that matched the lacework of the gown.

She held her skirt daintily to keep from dusting the hem as she came toward him. "You aren't saying anything. Do I look awful? Should I go back inside and put on one of my old dresses?" She was forever attempting to get a smile out of her father by teasing him but rarely succeeded. He was such a somber man, and she had always wondered what had happened in his past to make him so unhappy.

Suddenly, Judd could keep his thoughts to himself no longer. "You look just like your aunt Iris did on her wedding day," he blurted.

Jacie knew her mother and her sister had had a double wedding, just as she knew her aunt's death had been something neither of her parents had ever gotten over. Rarely was Iris mentioned, and it made Jacie feel awkward to hear her father speak of her now. She changed the subject. "I never dreamed I'd wear such a fine dress. It was sweet of Michael to buy new things for all of us."

Judd snorted and returned to his whittling. "He knew if he didn't, there wouldn't be no party, because you sure couldn't go dressed in the rags I've been able to provide for you. Just wait, girl. This is only the beginnin'. Once you and him are married you won't want for anythin' the rest of your life."

"Maybe you and Momma will come and live with us. The house is certainly big enough." Jacie knew with certainty that that would never happen.

Judd began to rock gently to and fro. "I'll live here till the day I die and then I want to be buried right here under this tree. All I want is to know you're looked after when I'm gone."

"I will be, but don't you worry. You're going to be around a long, long time, Daddy. You'll be rocking your grandbabies in that very chair. You'll see." She rushed to kiss the top of his balding head.

Judd tensed. It always made him feel funny when Jacie touched him, because thoughts of Iris and how much he had loved her came to mind.

Jacie moved away, sensing his usual rejection. She could not remember a time in her life when he had hugged her or kissed her, and if she tried to hold his hand when they walked together, he drew back. Sometimes she dared wonder if maybe he blamed her for how unhappy he was, married to her mother. Perhaps she had been born at a time when he was thinking about leaving but felt duty-bound to stay after becoming a father. And she had often wondered why she had no brothers and sisters.

"That boy is gonna propose to you tonight," Judd said. "He spoke to me about it awhile back. Asked my permission, proper like. You're a lucky girl."

Impetuously, Jacie dared ask, "What if I told him no? What if I told him I'm not ready to get married yet, that I'd like to experience more of life before settling down?" She was not about to confide how much she had been thinking lately about Mehlonga's dream of going out west, and if he did go, how she wished she could go with him. Only for a visit, of course, but even to think of actually seeing the other side of those mountains filled her with excitement.

"Don't you even joke about such a thing." He shook the knife at her. "You tell Michael yes, or so help me, I'll take my shavin' strop to you."

Jacie dismissed his threat. He might seem to resent her at times, but he'd never whipped her.

"Somethin' else," he said gruffly. "Miz Blake told me to see to it that you quit hangin' around that old Indian. She don't think it looks nice, and neither do I. It was different when you were little, but you're grown up now."

"I enjoy being around Mehlonga. He teaches me about healing ways. I want to learn everything I can."