Through the Storm (43 page)

Raimond stood before one of the windows in his shipping office looking out over the darkening river. It had rained most of the day, but now the showers seemed to be slackening. For days he’d spent every waking hour searching for Sable and the children but turning up nothing. Now he’d started coming back here. He’d thought keeping busy might help keep his mind off his missing family, but it hadn’t worked. He thought about them each and every moment, no matter what he was doing or where he was. The idea that they were still nowhere to be found kept him awake nights; he hadn’t had more than a few hours’ sleep since their disappearance.

Where the hell were they? he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. Not even the offer of a reward had turned up anything. He was frustrated, angry, and scared to even think about never seeing them again.

Raimond moved away from the window and went back to his desk. He looked over the manifest for a trip
Phillipe would be making in a few days to pick up a full complement of goods from an old trader friend in China. Raimond and Galeno dealt in exotic merchandise like perfumes, spices, and rugs. They catered to the rich because the rich always had money to buy.

A knock on the door caused him to look up. He was caught off guard by the sight of a White woman standing on the threshold. “Are you Raimond LeVeq?” she asked quietly as she shook the rain off her coat.

“Yes, I am. How may I help you?”

He noted that she looked as poor as some of the freedmen. Her dark dress was faded and patched, but her neatly arranged hair and freshly scrubbed pink face showed her to be a woman of some dignity.

“I came here to tell you where you can find your wife.”

Raimond waited skeptically. The first day he’d posted notice of the reward in the newspapers and on broadsides tacked up around the city, many people had come to his office trying to claim the gold. Not a one had come bearing a true story. He supposed they assumed his distress over the disappearance had rendered him so mindless he would believe whatever he was told and reward them. This woman, whom he studied as he gestured her to a seat, would be the first reward seeker this week.

“Your wife and I met a few months ago,” she said, looking up from her lap. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “She, um, fed me and my kids, over at one of the churches.” She gave Raimond a watery smile. “Your wife is a grand lady, Mr. LeVeq.”

“Yes, she is,” Raimond replied softly. He sensed a truthfulness and a goodness in this woman he’d never experienced with any of the other reward seekers.

“I can’t tell you my name, because they’re kin of mine, but what they did to her—it’s not right. They said they did it because they owe it to the South to make things hard for you Blacks, but Mrs. LeVeq didn’t pay
no mind to the color of my kids. She fed them because they were hungry.”

She wiped away her tears. “Anyway,” she whispered, as she extracted a folded paper from her pocket, “here’s the directions that’ll lead you to where she is.”

Raimond unfolded the paper and looked at what was written on it. “If this turns out to be true—”

“Oh, it’s true. They got drunk last night and were bragging about it. Thinking of her suffering just about broke my heart. I gave them a good loud piece of my mind.” She looked Raimond in the eye and said feelingly, “On behalf of my kids and me, we are truly, truly sorry.”

She stood and moved to the door.

Raimond stood also. “Do you know where the other children were taken, the six orphans who were kidnapped?”

“No, I don’t. My menfolk only took your wife and children. The others could be anywhere.”

“Where do you want me to send the reward?”

“I don’t want it.”

“What do you mean you don’t want it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t. I’m just glad I could help her.”

She gave him a little nod of her head and left him standing there, his eyes filled with tears.

The Brats were ecstatic upon hearing the news, but a somberness soon settled over them all as they sat in Juliana’s parlor to plan the rescue.

“Do you think he’s harmed them?” Juliana asked. Beside her sat Henri.

“There’s no way of knowing,” Raimond replied.

Drake looked at a map of the area where Morse had hidden himself away. “I figure we can cover the distance in less than a day, using good strong mounts. We should probably trail a few extra horses just in case.”

Everyone agreed.

Beau asked, “Did the woman say whether Morse was alone?”

Raimond gave a negative shake of his head. “No, she didn’t, so I suggest we go in masked and armed. Let’s see how he likes having the tables turned.”

They rode out at dawn. Raimond used the brutal pace of the ride to try and defuse his red-hot rage. He wanted to blow Morse’s head off and drag the body behind his horse from New Orleans to Charleston, but he’d have to come up with another way to exact revenge. It would not do for him to kill Morse in front of his children.

Last evening when they’d all met in her parlor, his mother had expressed a similar concern. She knew that given the opportunity, Raimond would dispatch Morse to hell without batting an eye. Although she had no quarrel with that, she did not want her grandchildren to see their father kill a man unless it proved absolutely necessary. Raimond agreed.

In order not to be tempted into shooting Morse on sight he’d considered giving his weapons to Drake, but he had no intention of going in unarmed. He’d just have to keep a rein on his anger. He prayed Morse hadn’t decided to pull up stakes and head elsewhere.

In many ways, this thundering ride reminded him of the time when he, Galeno and some of the Brats had ridden to rescue Hester from the slave catcher Ezra Shoe. Raimond’s brother Gerrold had been with them that day. Raimond still grieved over the loss of his sibling and knew that had Gerrold not died in the war, he’d be riding at his side now too. It saddened him to know that Gerrold would never meet Sable or watch his children grow. Cullen’s serious, watchful ways reminded Raimond very much of Gerrold. He believed they’d have gotten along well.

The LeVeqs arrived at Morse’s plantation just past dusk. Raimond used a spyglass to scan the area. “I see
a field and some ramshackle quarters but there’s no sign of Sable or the children.”

“Do you see any horses or wagons that might tell us whether he’s alone?” Drake asked.

“No, just one wagon. No horses that I can see. Ah, but we’re in luck, gentlemen,” Raimond declared triumphantly. “There’s our friend Morse coming out of the house now. He’s heading to”—Raimond paused a moment—“the privy. Has a newspaper in one hand and a lantern in the other.”

Raimond retracted the spyglass. “Drake, how about we pay him a visit. Archer, take Phillipe and Beau and go see if there’s anyone in the house. And be careful. No firing of weapons unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

They all dismounted and tied the horses in the tall weeds and wild vegetation before making a cautious dash across the cleared field surrounding the house. They then splt into two groups. Drake’s moved quickly to the back door of the house while Raimond and Archer headed for the listing plywood privy, set off to the left.

Once Raimond saw his brothers entering the house, he and Archer quietly counted to three, then kicked over the lightweight structure.

The seated Morse didn’t know whether to be angry or terrified, and settled on terrified as he met Raimond’s iron stare above a drawn rifle. “Get up!” Raimond barked, his temper rising.

Visibly trembling, Morse stood with his pants still around his ankles. His legs glowed palely in the lantern light.

“Where are Sable and the children?”

“At least let me pull up my trousers.”

“Answer me!” Raimond snarled through gritted teeth.

Morse jumped in response to the power in Raimond’s voice and stammered, “In the quarters, in the quarters.”

Just then Beau joined them. “We found a woman in the house, but no one else.”

Raimond kept his eyes and weapon trained on Morse. “Tie him up, and take him into the house. I’ll return shortly.”

Inside the small cabin, under the sputtering light of a candle stub, Sable passed a pot of collards to Hazel. Using her hand because they had no utensils, Hazel scooped up a palmful of the greens and brought them to her mouth. Sable paused before passing the pot to Cullen. For a moment she’d thought she heard Raimond calling her name. Blaming it on her imagination, she handed the pot to Cullen.

But Sable heard it again, and this time the children did too.

“That sounds like Papa Rai calling,” Blythte said excitedly.

They ran outside, and saw a man dressed in dark clothing walking toward the cabin. Sable recognized him instantly and her heart began pounding so furiously she could barely breathe. Forgetting all else, she began to run, screaming, “Raimond!”

The children began running too.

“Raimond!”

He scooped her up and held her so tight she thought her spine would break, but his presence filled her with so much happiness, she didn’t mind the pain. It was over, it was over!

Raimond rocked his wife in his arms for what seemed an eternity, kissing her, holding her, whispering her name. He’d found her!

Wiping her eyes, Sable stepped aside so Raimond could have a hug-and kiss-filled reunion with his daughters. Cullen stood off to the side, silently watching and waiting, reminding Raimond of a soldier awaiting review by his commanding officer.

Raimond turned to him and held out his arms. Cullen ran to him at once. His fierce embrace put more tears in Raimond’s eyes.

Cullen whispered through his own tears, “I let you down, I didn’t keep Mama and the girls safe.”

Raimond squeezed him tighter. “You did fine, son, and I am very proud of you. Don’t ever doubt that. Ever.”

Sable wiped away more tears of joy. She’d prayed every night for this moment, and her prayers had finally been answered.

Raimond turned back to her. “Did he abuse you?”

She knew what he meant and answered truthfully, “No. Cullen and I each took a knock on the head the night his friends raided the orphanage, but we’re both fine.”

She was so happy to see him.

He was so happy to find her alive and well.

Blythe asked, “Papa Rai, can we go home now? I’m very hungry.”

Raimond smiled down at his youngest. “As soon as we finish here, sugar plum, I will take you home and Mrs. Vine will feed you whatever you like.”

With all the bluntness of a child, Blythe added, “He’s been real mean to us.”

“Well, he won’t be mean to you anymore,” Raimond promised.

“You gonna whip him?”

“Yep.”

“I told him my Papa Rai was gonna whip him,” Blythe said proudly.

Sable had no idea when Blythe and Morse had had such a conversation, but it would be something to ask her about and laugh over later, once they were safely home.

Back at the house, the Brats had tied Morse to a chair. Sally Ann sat beside him. It was hard to determine which of the two looked more furious.

Sable shared long hugs with her brothers-in-law.
“Thank you for helping Raimond find us. I can’t wait until we reach home.”

“You can’t take them anywhere,” Sally Ann snapped. “Sable signed a contract.”

Raimond looked to Sable, who said, “Raimond, meet my former mistress, Sally Ann Fontaine.”

“The name’s Morse now,” she said.

“I’m taking my family home,” Raimond assurred her. “Contract or no contract.”

“Sounds like something Shoe would’ve said,” Archer pointed out.

Raimond agreed.

“Who’s Shoe?” Cullen asked.

“A slave catcher your uncles and I crossed paths with a few years back,” Raimond told his son.

“You know,” Archer drawled, “I’ll bet old Ezra Shoe would appreciate a little company. He’s been there about six or seven years now, hasn’t he?”

“About that,” Raimond agreed.

“I’ll let the children go,” Morse offered, “but she stays.” He nodded at Sable.

Raimond chuckled. “You’ll
let
them go? You
must
know Ezra Shoe. Are you sure you haven’t met him? He’s a little man, about five and a half feet tall, black gums, foul odor. The two of you must be acquainted.”

“So, what are we going to do with him?” Archer asked.

“Nothing,” Morse answered for Raimond, snarling contemptuously. “Harm me, and every White man in the South will rise up and hunt you down.”

Raimond shook his head at Morse’s passionate speech. “We’re not going to kill you, Morse. We’re just going to send you on a long trip.”

“Where?”

“North Africa maybe.”

“Or,” Beau said, “Considering baby brother is off to China next week, maybe our friend here would like to live there.”

Raimond eyed Morse. “They do have lovely cold winters up in the mountains.”

“What are you two jigs talking about?” Morse snapped.

“Sending you on that trip.”

“To where?”

“Wherever we decide. Right now, I’m voting for the mountains of China. A very unpleasant warlord acquaintance of mine has a village there. No doubt the snow will make a Southern gentleman like you thoroughly miserable.”

Morse began to laugh. “You can’t send me any place I don’t want to go.”

“Sure he can,” Sable countered. “My husband owns a fleet of ships that travel all over the world. He can send you to Borneo or Siberia or even Africa, if he takes a mind to.”

“That’s a thought too, darling,” Raimond said. “Never considered the mother continent.”

Morse stared. That the brothers weren’t joshing seemed to have finally penetrated his thick skull. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as you were when you stole my family. I’m going to give you over to someone who’ll treat you the way you deserve—like a slave. Because that’s what you’ll be.”

Morse’s eyes grew like saucers.

Raimond nodded. “Ironic, isn’t it? Personally, I want to shoot you where you stand, but it wouldn’t do to have my children see your brains splattered all over this room, so I’m turning you into a slave instead. I’ve done it before. Ask Ezra Shoe.”

Sable thought it a marvelous solution, one that should be standard punishment for folks like Morse.