The River's Treasure

THE RIVER’ S TREASURE “Maybe you should try to get some sleep. I’ll sit with you.” Cooper didn’t know how much longer ...

Author: Quinn Janet

4 downloads 375 Views 649KB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

THE RIVER’ S TREASURE

“Maybe you should try to get some sleep. I’ll sit with you.” Cooper didn’t know how much longer he could hold Becka and not kiss her and touch her. Her body burned against his, lighting his passion. “I do not wish to shut my eyes.” He rubbed her back, hoping it would relax her enough she would slip back into sleep. She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you for being here.” She took his lips with hers, the heat from them searing into him. Her tongue flicked along his lips, begging entrance and he opened his mouth a bit. His tongue greeted hers in a dance, hot and fiery. She ran her fingers through his hair then across the back of his neck sending tingles through him. His body responded to her touch, and he broke the kiss and laid her back on the bed. “This isn’t right.” “Why?” She pulled him down beside her and traced his ear with her finger. “Because….because, when this is over, another will come to claim you,” he gasped. He wanted her. She put her finger against his mouth. “I do not care. I shall lay with you.”

ALSO BY JANET QUINN Arrow Of The Heart

THE RIVER’S TREASURE BY JANET QUINN

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

THE RIVER’S TREASURE AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2005 by Janet Cornelow ISBN 1-59279-111-5 Cover Art © 2005 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To my biggest fan, my sister Kathy. To my sons, Tom, Michael, and Robby for all their confidence, support and love. To Debra, my critique partner, for all her help and encouragement. To the ladies of my plot group without whom I’d never have finished the book.

THE RIVER’S TREASURE

CHAPTER 1

Mississippi River, Arkansas, 1830 Mon Dieu! Help me! Somebody help me! The blackness pulled at her. It wouldn’t take her. She clawed at it. Demanding air. Getting none. Her lungs screamed. A silent scream. She kicked, her legs tangled in her skirts. She had to find the light. She had to find the air. She burst upward. Air brushed her face and she gasped. Darkness and coldness still surrounded her, but air filled her lungs. She gulped it in. Peering into the darkness, she looked for something solid. She slipped downward. With frantic, quick kicks, she pushed her head above the water that wanted to take her. As she slipped beneath the water again, her feet hit the bottom. She pushed upward and swam toward shore. Gaining the bank, she crawled up it. She wasn’t drowned. Cold. So 1


very cold, but she’d escaped the water that had suffocated her. She dug her fingers into the muck, refusing to be pulled back, and rested. The river sucked at her skirts, pulling her back to its depths as her face pressed against the mud, caking her nose and mouth. She inched forward, then slumped. The water lapped at her feet. She dug at the mud blocking her air and spit, trying to remove the gritty taste from her mouth. “Yeech.” A shiver ran through her. Inching her way from the river, she managed to sit. Her chest and head ached. She couldn’t take in a breath because her corset cut into her. She coughed, retching up water. Pushing a strand of wet hair back from her face, she looked out at the river. It didn’t seem so wide here. The water lapped gently on the shore, seemingly mild and beckoning, offering no harm. But moments before, it had dragged at her, wanting to drown her. Wanting to keep her with it always. The wind caressed her and she shivered, coldness boring into her bones as her wet clothes clung to her. Only luck had kept her from being taken to the depths of the river by her skirts and petticoats. The shivering took hold of her and she couldn’t stop shaking. She closed her eyes against the river, against the fear that had torn at her as the murky water tugged at her, not letting her breathe. Shivering, she looked down at her feet. Her big toe poked out of one of her gold slippers. Streaks of dark gold from her underskirt bled through her light yellow silk overskirt. The white flowers edging the scallops of the overskirt became multicolored. Tucking her feet beneath her skirts, she looked around, seeing nothing but brush and a row of tall oaks lining the edge of the river to her right. A mallard duck quacked at her before slipping into the water. She pushed back another strand of hair. Where was she? The river could be the Mississippi, but the width belied that fact. She coughed again and leaned over. She wiped her mouth on her wet 2


sleeve, smearing the dye. The throbbing in her head increased. Reaching up, she pulled back a hand covered with mud and blood. She cringed. She needed something to wash her head, but the river had claimed all but what she wore. She couldn’t sit forever on the riverbank. Cold and wet, hunger plagued her. She needed to find shelter, but she’d seen nothing indicating civilization. The coldness increased. Was the shore any better than the river? Would she die, alone and lost? A shadow flitted across her skirt. She jumped and screamed, pushing her hand against her racing heart. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” She looked at a small boy with eyes the color of smoke and brown hair curling around his ears. A smear of dirt slashed across his cheek. “I did not hear you walk up.” A grin split the boy’s face. “My pa taught me to walk real quiet like an Indian so nobody’d hear me.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her. The coldness grew worse as the wind blew off the water. “You did a fine job.” A spark of hope kindled inside her. Where a little boy roamed, other people couldn’t be far. At least they might offer her shelter and dry clothing. Then she could figure where she would go. Where she’d been going. Once her head pounded a little less. “Hey, Pa, over here.” The boy waved his arms over his head. “I’m Jacob Monroe, ma’am.” “Very pleased to meet you, Jacob Monroe.” She heard a giggling sound behind her and turned to look up at a man, a larger version of Jacob, only without the dirt. Instead, his upper lip sported a bushy mustache of brown streaked with blond. Muscles bulged against his shirt sleeves. The man stared at her for several seconds and goosebumps raced up her arms. Grabbing at the torn 3


bodice of her dress, she pulled it over her camisole streaked with mud and gold dye. He hunkered down next to her. The giggling continued, issuing from behind him. “You all right, miss?” “I do not believe I have broken anything.” She gave him a half smile. His nearness fogged her mind more and she could hardly breathe. Her heart seemed to forget to beat. “But I appear to be lost.” “And soaked to the skin.” He smiled at her, his eyes lighting up. “We’d best get you back to our home and dry you out before you catch your death. Then we can see about getting you back to where you belong.” She nodded, then choked, leaned over and retched again. Heat crept up her face. Until this man appeared, she hadn’t minded so much being sick. “Pa, is she all right?” Jacob asked. “I’m sure she is. Just swallowed too much water.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped her mouth. “I’m Cooper Monroe and this is Megan.” He twisted to the left. She smiled at the baby bouncing and kicking in a carrier fastened to his back. She sighed. Of course. He was a married man and the fact he was ever so handsome was not a thought on which she should dwell. Though the quivering in the pit of her stomach refused to listen to her mind. “I would be most grateful if you could take me to town once I have dried my clothing.” What did she have to offer for his service? She touched her neck and felt a necklace. Surely it would be worth enough to buy her help. She looked at Cooper. “I shall gladly give my necklace to your wife for your help.” His eyes clouded as he looked at her. “My wife died nine months ago.” “I am sorry.” She blinked and looked away, not wanting to intrude on the pain showing in his eyes. Her heart skipped several beats. He 4


was a widower. One who brought silly notions to her mind of being held in his arms and his mustache tickling her lip. Undoubtedly she’d swallowed too much water. “I don’t need payment for helping. Out here, we help each other. Otherwise we don’t survive.” He held out a hand to her. She rose and wobbled, her legs not wanting to hold her. He put an arm around her back and swept her into his arms. Warm spots formed where his arms touched her. “You cannot carry me.” “It’s not that far.” Heat radiated from him. She wanted to soak up his warmth to stop her shivering, both body and soul. She wanted to crawl inside him. She wanted forever to be in his arms. “I thought we was goin’ rabbit hunting.” Jacob’s bottom lip turned down. “As soon as we get her dried out. After all we promised Maura rabbit stew for supper.” Cooper strode across the marshy land near the water’s edge. “I’m goin’ get a big rabbit for Maura.” Jacob fell into step next to his father. “What’s your name, ma’am?” “Don’t be rude, Jacob. She might have a reason for not telling us her name.” “She knows our names.” Jacob frowned. “He’s right. It was rude of me not to offer my name. After all, you rescued me.” She shifted her arm around his neck, careful not to grab Megan’s head. The edges of his hair tickled her arm and made it tingle. She looked at his mouth and wondered what it would be like to have his mustache tickle her lips. “I am…I am…” She glanced away at the brush and the trees as Cooper walked. A gray fox climbing a tree stopped to watch them pass. She looked into the fox’s eyes. Fear crept toward her and she clung 5


to Cooper to keep it at bay. The fog in her mind seemed to thicken. “I don’t seem to remember my name.” “How can she not know her name?” Jacob kicked a rock and it sailed down the path. Cooper stopped and set her on her feet for a minute. “You hit your head?” She nodded. Running his fingers over her scalp made her cringe. “Yep.” He nodded. “We’ll get you home and dress that wound. After a good sleep, you’ll remember who you are.” A sigh rattled through her. She hoped so. She looked into his eyes as if he held the information she needed, but she couldn’t remember anything before being in the river. Who was she? Where had she come from? Why was she in the river? Hot tears scalded her eyes. She trembled from the cold and her head hurt. She wanted to know who she was. She clutched him. The warmth within his arms held the fear at bay. She rested her head against his shoulder and pushed all thoughts away except how he smelled and the strength of his arms. *

*

*

Cooper reached for the blue china bowl of stew and scooped some into Jacob’s bowl, then onto his own blue china plate. He passed the bowl to Arnou, the young black man who sat next to him. He glanced around the table, wondering where the woman was, but not wanting to seem anxious. He’d take her to town tomorrow to hunt for her family. The feel of her body against him would fade, as would his remembrance of her beauty. Though even as he waited for her, his body remembered hers pressed against his. Heat rushed through him and his body responded in a way it hadn’t for a long time. He shifted his napkin in his lap and pulled his chair closer to the table. He didn’t want Arnou to realize he was acting like a randy youngster. 6


Arnou, dressed in a blue wool shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose muscled arms, took the bowl and set it beside his plate on the bright red tablecloth. White teeth flashed when he smiled. “Coop, you gonna hire someone to help with the planting?” Cooper reached for the bread plate and put a piece on his plate and Jacob’s. He glanced back at the doorway, waiting for the woman to appear, hoping she would join them for supper. He suppressed a sigh. “I have to. The two of us can’t put in that extra field without help.” Maura, Arnou’s mother, spooned a mouthful of stew into Megan’s mouth. Her black hair was streaked with white. A fine dusting of flour covered one cheek. “That white man came by today looking for work. Hickory he calls hisself.” She wiped the child’s face. “I don’t like his kind around here. Don’t want him near the children.” Cooper took a bite of the stew and chewed, looking at the empty chair at the table. She was probably resting. Besides, he didn’t need the grief of having a woman in his life, but his body didn’t seem to want to listen to him. An ache deep within him declared his need to hold her, to feel her pressed against him again. The door from the parlor opened and he jumped as the young woman paused in the doorway. She wore one of his wife’s dresses that hung off her shoulders and hid her figure. No longer did she look like a bedraggled lady, but more like a farm woman. A beautiful farm woman. Who fit in his arms perfectly. He knew he grinned like a lovesick school boy. “Join us.” Cooper jumped up, nearly knocking his chair over, and walked toward her. She looked so forlorn. He had an urge to sweep her into his arms and reassure her. To kiss her and breathe in her ear that all would be well. To hold her and never have to face the lonely nights again. Maura wiped her hands on her red apron covering her green dress then got another plate from the white glass-fronted cabinet next to the 7


sink. “I would’ve brung you supper as soon as I got the young ’uns fed.” The young woman smiled and clutched the skirt up so she wouldn’t trip on it. Maura had washed her and managed to arrange her raven hair to one side of her head. A white bandage wrapped around her head held the curls in place. Her blue eyes seemed dull. Cooper reached up to caress the side of her face, but pulled back his hand. His hand tingled as though he’d had contact with her cheek. The tingle raced through his body and he stepped behind her to hide his reaction to her nearness. “I can sit at the table and eat.” She didn’t move from the doorway, wobbling. “I have rested sufficiently for now and do not want to make extra work for you.” Offering her his arm, Cooper steered her toward an empty seat next to Jacob. The warmth of her touch stoked the fire burning within him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Come along and meet the rest of the family. Maura you met earlier. She tends the children, the house, and now…and now the chickens.” His wife had wanted the chickens. Something she could do to add to the family income. He’d wanted to be shed of them since her death, but Maura insisted they needed the money. She didn’t want to change anything, especially anything to do with Ellen. “That’s Arnou, Maura’s son. He helps me in the fields.” He shifted the woman’s chair forward and returned to the head of the table. No woman but Maura had graced his table since Ellen’s passing. But this woman was very different than his wife. His wife had worked hard her whole life. This woman didn’t have a callous on her hands. Her silk dress said she came from money. As well as the necklace. It must be worth several times more than his farm. Starbursts of rubies were attached to each other by two rows of diamonds. The largest starburst had been in 8


the middle with three more up each side. Someone must be missing her. Wealthy people took care of their own and, as wealthy as her family had to be, they had to be searching frantically for her. Taking a bite of his stew, he studied her. She was beautiful, even in the blue cotton dress. The dress made her eyes shine a darker blue, but also made her look like a lost waif in need of protection. Protection he wanted to give, though she probably didn’t need it. He wanted to touch her. Her skin had been soft, and even though she’d been dripping wet, having her pressed against him had created a heat he’d forgotten existed. Maura scooped some stew onto the plate and placed it in front of the woman before spooning another bite into Megan’s mouth. “It you don’t hire the likes of Hickory, what’re you gonna do?” “A slave auction’s being held in town the end of the week. Thought Arnou and I might go see who we might be able to use.” Cooper couldn’t pull his gaze from the woman. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring from one of them to the next. She looked so lost, so sad. His heart ached for her. His arms ached to hold her. “We could use two slaves.” Arnou picked up his blue china coffee cup. “Now, Arnou, Coop can’t be affording to buy no slaves. He’s talking about seeing who’s about looking for a job.” Maura picked the coffee pot off the black stove and poured a cup, pushing it toward the woman. He forced himself to look away from the woman and concentrate on the conversation. “Actually, I had in mind buying a worker. Arnou and I have the other cabin built and, with the land we cleared this winter, we’ll need more help all season.” Maura looked at him, her eyes widening. “Can we afford one, Coop?” “Yes, Ma.” He smiled at the older woman with a touch of gray in 9


her dark hair. Maura mothered them all. Had since the day he’d met her. He really didn’t know what he’d do without her. “One or two?” Arnou took a large bite of stew and looked at Cooper. “For what I’ve got saved, one. I pay such a low price for two, they’ll be sickly or something.” “But, Coop, you’ve got to feed him and care for him. You sure we can afford this?” Maura set down the spoon with which she’d been feeding Megan and took a sip of her coffee. “It’ll cost dearly.” “Are you worried about cooking for another mouth?” Cooper glanced back at the woman who nibbled at her stew as she watched them, her gaze darting from one to another. He wished he could take her hand to reassure her. He wished away the fear in her eyes, but could do nothing to abate it. He could move to her and scoop her up. The others would think he’d lost his mind. Maura drew her eyebrows together and glared at him. “Cooper Monroe, you know better. What’s another mouth or two?” “Ma, stop fretting. If Coop says he can afford to buy a slave, he can.” Arnou patted his mother’s hand, his hand dwarfing hers. Cooper scooped more stew onto his plate. Scrimping and saving every penny he could, he hoped to expand his farm and build a future for his children. “I planned this. With the new acres and the money we got for last year’s crop, everything’ll be fine.” “If we’re careful, I’ll bet we can git two.” Arnou smiled and nodded his head. “I’ll poke around. No one’ll pay me no mind.” “We’ll see when we get there.” Arnou looked at Cooper and took a deep breath. “You thought about talking with Stevens about Ilde.” “You sure you want her for your wife?” Was the waif at his table married? She was of an age she should be. Her husband must be frantic. A pain jolted his heart. Why should he care if she were married? 10


She didn’t belong here. Tomorrow she’d be gone, and with her would go the silly fantasies filling his mind and body of holding her and making her his own. Arnou nodded. “And if you don’t ask Stevens about buying her soon, he’s going to…well, you know.” He looked at Jacob. “Stevens will ask a pretty price for her. She’s young and strong.” Cooper smiled over the edge of his coffee cup at Arnou. The young man was smitten with Ilde. “She’s a field worker. He won’t charge as much as if she were a house slave.” Arnou’s fork clattered against the plate. “True enough.” Cooper picked up the coffee pot. If he weren’t careful, he’d find himself smitten with the strange woman at his table. A forbidden woman. More forbidden than Ilde was to Arnou at the moment. Maura wiped Megan’s mouth and handed the little girl a metal cup of milk. “Coop can’t afford to buy you a wife and himself a field hand.” “Ma, I got the money saved to pay Stevens for Ilde. I’d never expect Coop to buy me a wife.” Arnou glared at Maura. She laughed, a sound that filled the kitchen with warmth. “You sure you want to spend your money on a wife?” “Yes, Ma.” Arnou rolled his eyes. “Then I can find plenty for her to do to help around here.” She kissed her son’s cheek. “It’ll be nice to have female company again.” “It’s settled.” Cooper peeked at the woman who sat shrinking into herself, watching them. What did she think of his little family? Did she really not know her name? It didn’t matter. Someone missed her and wanted her home. Any other thoughts of her had to be put aside and he must return her to her family. He knew the pain of loss and wouldn’t bring that on anyone else. No matter how much he wanted to hold her again. Or kiss her and 11


sample how she tasted. Better than any of Maura’s confections, he was sure. He stifled a groan. Such thinking was not going to help his situation. He turned back to Arnou. “If you’re sure you want to marry Ilde.” Marriage held such hopes, then tore the heart to shreds. He didn’t want Arnou to suffer heartache if something happened to Ilde, but he couldn’t bring him sorrow by denying his request. Arnou nodded and smiled. “I’ve been courting her for near six months.” “I told you to stay away from Stevens’ place. He’ll cause trouble.” “He doesn’t even know I’ve been there. Most nights he’s drunk.” Arnou took a piece of bread and used it to wipe the stew from his plate. “That’s why you’ve got to talk to him. He gets mean when he’s drunk. Ilde’s been staying out of his way, but if he notices her…” “I’ll go by his place tomorrow.” “Pa, when’re you goin’ to town?” Jacob set his milk cup down on the table. Cooper wiped the milk mustache from Jacob’s face with a red napkin. “End of the week.” “Can I go?” Jacob’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. Cooper studied him for a moment, then looked at the woman. “We can all go.” Maybe he could find someone who knew this woman. He had enough to do in life without having to worry about her. Without her sad eyes begging him to hold and comfort her. Without his lips wanting to kiss hers and see how wonderful she tasted. Without wanting to crush her to him. She looked up from her plate at Maura. “Are you free people of color?” “I guess we are.” Maura smiled at her. “Now eat up your supper. You’re a skinny bit of a thing. You’ll waste away in this country.” “I don’t believe she’s from around here.” Cooper studied her face. 12


Pink spots colored her cheeks and she no longer looked ready to faint. In fact she looked more beautiful, more desirable. The ache in his groin grew. He had trouble keeping track of what was being said. “Do you remember anything, miss?” Her fork poised near her mouth, she looked at him. “No.” She took the bite from the fork and chewed slowly. “No. I remember the water and being on the bank.” She set her fork down. “But before that, I do not remember anything.” “How can you forget who you are?” Jacob stared at her. “She got a big bump.” Maura picked up a pie from the hardwood sideboard next to the sink. Jacob shifted his gaze to Maura. “I bumped my head before, but I ’member who I am.” Cooper laughed. “You’ve bumped your noggin, but not like her. She bumped hers very hard. She’s got a bump the size of a melon.” With a lift of her hand, she brushed her fingers across the bandage. She stared over his head as though she was trying to remember something, but then shrugged and went back to eating her stew. Such a delicate thing. She’d never stand the ardors of living on a farm. Not a working farm where everyone worked from the moment the sun rose until after it set for the night. He needed to find out who she was and where she belonged. He needed to get her out of his house now.

13


CHAPTER 2

Genevieve Rawlings. She had disappeared off the face of the earth. Along with the necklace. Jacques Fortier paced back and forth on the Persian rug covering the floor of his small office aboard the Lady Belle. Where in the hell could she be? He must find her. He must get the necklace back. A rap sounded at the heavy oak door. “Come in,” he snapped. Philippe sauntered into the room, his hands stuck in the pockets of his gray wool trousers. “Any word?” Jacques stopped pacing and took a cigar from the humidor on his mahogany desk. “She’s gone.” Philippe walked over to the small bar attached to the inside wall and poured rum from a crystal decanter into a crystal glass. “We have to find her.” With the squeeze of his cigar cutter, Jacques removed the end and lit it. A puff of smoke floated across the room. 14


Three days ago he’d discovered Lissa Butler was really Genevieve Rawlings, daughter of Frederick Rawlings. The instant he realized who she was, he knew she wanted revenge, but he hadn’t been worried. The chit couldn’t do much. Just like her sister. But when he’d confronted her on the bow of the Lady Belle and grabbed for the necklace, he’d never expected her to fight him. Nor had he expected her to go overboard. The last thing he remembered was the sight of her gold skirts swirling in the water as she washed downstream. Damn. She had to have washed up somewhere. “Face it, Mr. Fortier, she’s gone.” Philippe took a sip of his drink. His brown hair needed to be trimmed around his ears. “She can’t be.” She wore a bloody fortune on her neck. He had to find her. If she’d drowned, the body ought to wash up somewhere, but he needed to find it before someone else did. He wanted her dead, but not before he found the necklace. “People have been poling the river. I’ve had the cannons booming and sent search parties along both banks. No sign of her has been found.” After refilling his glass, Philippe sipped at the amber liquid. “The passengers are getting restless and want to know why we don’t continue upriver.” “Until I find her, I won’t leave.” Jacques puffed on his cigar, smoke filling the air around him. “Find the passengers transit on any boat sailing past. I’m staying.” Philippe nodded his head to Jacques. “You won’t find her. The river swallowed her and you’re going to have to live with that fact.” Jacques desperately needed the necklace. He glared at Philippe. “Never.” His head told him Philippe spoke the truth. The river had swallowed her and he’d never find the body. He’d stood in disbelief as she’d disappeared into the darkness of the water and the night. Gone. Along with the jewelry. 15


Something in his gut told him she was alive. He had a feeling, and he always went with his feelings. He ran his business that way. That was where success lay. Cool, calculated dealings. And his feelings. He knew when the right moment came to strike a deal and when to walk. He wouldn’t walk away now. Genevieve Rawlings was out there. Walking to the porthole, he looked into the darkness. Yes. She was out there. He could feel it. He would find her and deal with her the way he’d dealt with the rest of the Rawlings family. Once and for all. Never again would he have to worry about a Rawlings trying to destroy his life. He let his cigar go out. The door behind him clicked shut. He turned back to look at the empty room. She’d taken more than the necklace that night and he’d have it all back. *

*

*

As she stood on the deck, moonlight glinted off the large paddle wheel stilled at the back of the boat. Gay music whirled in the air around her, coming from the galley where couples danced. The deck remained empty, except for her father. Staggering toward her, he extended his hand. He said something, but she couldn’t understand him. She tried to move closer, but her feet felt rooted to the deck. Her father continued toward her, but the gap between them didn’t grow smaller. “I’ll help you,” she whispered. “I’ll help you.” But she couldn’t reach him. He staggered toward the railing of the ship and into it. The railing melted. A fog circled around her father and obscured him from her sight. She reached out her hand to him. “I’m here. I’ll help.” When he disappeared, an overwhelming sadness closed about her, suffocating her, shutting her away from him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Where were you, sister?” an eerie voice called to her and a hand 16


came out of the fog. She covered her mouth, stifling a scream. She couldn’t bear to see what followed the hand. A woman, her appearance wavering, came toward her. A woman whose face was white and mottled, extended her arm and grabbed for her. “Where were you, sister?” The hand touched her. Screaming, she fell backward. Water washed over her and she couldn’t breathe. As she fought against the water, she wanted to scream but couldn’t. She would die. She thrashed, fighting to escape the hold of the water. To escape the hand. Air brushed her face. Shrouded in the fog, the boat loomed above her. The hand reached down. She tried to move away, but her skirts tangled around her legs and the water tugged her into its coldness. “Non,” she screamed. “Non.” *

*

*

Cooper jerked straight out of bed. The woman’s scream echoed down the hall toward him. He threw open his bedroom door and raced into the hallway, colliding with the small table. The vase toppled and shattered. “Damn.” He hopped on one foot toward the bedroom where the screams continued. His little toe throbbed. He’d hoped to sneak up on whoever had entered her room, but the crash would warn the intruder. Too much white trash about this time of year looking for work. He’d feared they would break into the house and hurt the children. Instead, the prowler had found the woman’s room. He eased open the door, favoring his right foot. A glint of moonlight came in through the open drapes. He saw no shadows not belonging to the room. His heart pounded in his ears nearly drowning out the woman’s screams. Megan’s cries mingled with the rest of the cacophony. If a prowler was 17


about, the noise alone would send him scurrying away. Cooper hobbled to the bed and perched on the edge. He made a grab for the thrashing woman. She slapped his hand away. “Miss. Miss. You’re having a bad dream.” He ducked as she swung at him. “Au secours! Au secours!” She fought the bedclothes in which she’d become entangled. “L’eau. L’eau.” “Miss,” Cooper hollered. Between her and the baby, she probably couldn’t hear him. Hell, he couldn’t hear himself. He made another grab for her, catching her arms and pulling her to him. “Miss, you’re having a bad dream.” He wrapped her in his arms and held her against his chest. She wriggled against him, but he held tight, even though her actions sparked a reaction in his body. “Pa!” Jacob’s voice came in a scream from the doorway. “What’s the matter, Pa?” “She’s having a bad dream. Nothing for you to worry about. Go get Megan for me, please.” “Yes, Pa.” Jacob’s wide eyes shone with fear. “Watch the glass in the hall. I broke the vase.” Cooper turned back to the woman. She sobbed in his arms. He brushed her hair back from her face, careful not to hit her bump. He kissed the side of her forehead, savoring the smell of her. Lilacs. A fragrance Maura used in her bath water. A fragrance he’d never inhaled and felt aroused by before. “It’s all right now. You had a nightmare.” She pulled back from him and rubbed her eyes. “I am sorry. I did not mean to scare you.” He smiled at her. “Took several years off my life, and I broke my toe, but otherwise I’ll be fine.” He took her hand in his, her skin soft. He rubbed his thumb on the soft part of her hand between her thumb and finger. “Are you going to be all right?” She trembled. “Horrible. So horrible. The water all about me. I could not breathe.” 18


Hugging her close again, he decided she fit in his arms and felt right against his bare chest. Heat radiated from her to him. He could feel the swell of her breasts through the soft material of her nightdress. His arousal pressed against his underdrawers and Cooper shifted so he didn’t press himself against her and frighten her. He wanted to press her down against the bed and bury himself inside of her, feel her heat around him. He mentally shook his head. How that thought entered his head he didn’t know, but he couldn’t afford to repeat it. He had to take her to town and find to whom she belonged. Someone must be looking for her. The last thing he needed was some rich woman working her way into his heart. It had been broken once and once would last him a lifetime. “Did you remember anything?” She shook her head against him. “A man reached out for me. I think he was my papa. And a woman called me sister, but the fog blurred them and I feared touching the woman. She wanted me dead.” When Cooper pushed her back, he looked into her eyes. Fear shone from them, making his heart ache. “Maybe they wanted to help you when you fell overboard. From the clothing you wore, you must’ve fallen from a riverboat.” “Maybe.” Her whole body rattled as she sighed. “I stood on the deck of a boat. It must have been a riverboat. But how would I fall? Unless someone pushed me.” “I doubt your sister or father would push you.” She had a family. He’d send Arnou to the nearest riverboat dock and see who sought her. They probably thought her dead and would be most relieved to have her returned. Only a miracle had kept her from being pulled to the bottom of the river, what with all of the clothes she’d been wearing when she fell. “They must be frantic. I’ll try to get a message to them tomorrow.” Then she would be gone and he’d never know what she tasted like 19


or how it felt to do more than hold her in his arms. His body cried out at the injustice. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore what his body wanted. “But where will you look?” “If you fell from a riverboat, everyone will know. Arnou will take a message and they can come and get you. That’ll give you another day to rest.” And another day for him to torture himself with his wanting of her. When she leaned against him for a moment, he could feel her heart racing against his chest. The house had become quiet again and he could hear her breathing. Her contact set his chest on fire, which ignited the rest of his body. “Someone must be looking for me, but…” “But, what?” Her trembling started again. “I do not want to contact the riverboats.” “Why?” Maybe she remembered something. Finding her family would be a bit easier. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. Tears formed. “I do not know. Maybe the aftermath of the dream makes me fanciful, but I feel danger awaits me there.” “It’s just the dream. We’ll talk about it again in the morning and see how you feel.” He couldn’t keep her. She wasn’t property to be taken. Besides, he didn’t need a woman. He wouldn’t bury another wife. So why was his body betraying him by wanting her? A weak smile flittered across her face. “In the morning.” “You were speaking French.” “Really?” Her eyes got wider. Then she nodded. “I speak French.” Brushing the side of her face, he smiled at her. So vulnerable. So beautiful. He wanted to kiss her and hold her, reassure her everything would be fine. “Maybe the bump wasn’t so bad after all. Seems your 20


memory is returning. You speak French, have a father and a sister. That’s a start. Perhaps by morning, you’ll remember your name and how you managed to fall in the river.” Then she would be gone. He leaned forward and captured her mouth. Sweet, so sweet and warm. He ached with the need for her. His tongue flicked across her lips, and she opened her mouth slightly, her tongue touching the tip of his. He suppressed a groan, but couldn’t suppress his body’s reaction. He hadn’t been hard like this for a very long time. He deepened the kiss, losing himself in the feel of her. She gripped his shoulders and tucked herself into him. A moan escaped her as he rubbed her back, feeling the heat of her through her nightdress. A groan welled up within him and he couldn’t suppress it. He wanted her. He broke the kiss, easing her away. In God’s name, what was he doing? She could be married. And she certainly didn’t belong here. He couldn’t take her, then send her away. Once he had her, he’d never want to be without her. His heart told him that. He took in several deep breaths trying to calm himself. The feel of her arms beneath his hands did nothing to stifle the desire thundering through him. He stared into the darkness and let his hands fall to the bed. “I’m sure your memory will return.” “Mayhaps.” She touched the side of his face. “I hope so. I do not wish to be a burden.” He looked at her. Her lips were swollen and her face flushed. Her breasts pushed against the soft material, her nipples hard and holding the fabric out. He couldn’t breath. “Don’t fret about that. Maura doesn’t mind taking care of you. She’s missed having a mistress to fuss over.” He took her hands in his. “But I woke you and you hurt yourself.” She pulled one hand free and touched her lips. He leaned forward, reaching for her lips. “Megan. Oh, my.” He 21


released her though he didn’t want to. “I have to check on the children. You woke them also.” Touching her had driven them from his mind and he suddenly felt guilty. He stood and held out his hand to her. “Would you care to join me in the kitchen for some warm milk and leftover berry pie?” “I do not wish to be a further bother.” He looked at her. The kitchen would be a much safer place. With her dressed in nothing but a thin cotton nightdress, his body reminded him of things best left forgotten. And there a table would be between them. “No bother. I’m hungry now I’m awake.” He wouldn’t be able to sleep. She would invade his dreams. Besides, he didn’t wish to leave her company. After disentangling herself from Maura’s home-sewn quilt, she reached for a wrapper on the chair next to the bed and followed him from the room. “Be careful. I broke a vase and glass shattered across the floor.” He stopped at Megan’s room and looked inside. Jacob sat in the wooden rocker, holding his sister, his cheek against her soft curls. Both of them slept peacefully. *

*

*

She carried a bucket of water and a dipper out to the field for Cooper and Arnou. With one hand she held up the yellow skirt Maura had given her to wear. Maura hadn’t had time yet to hem up the dresses or alter them. She’d thought about doing it herself, but when she’d looked at the hem, she didn’t know what to do. And she didn’t know what to do with Megan when she cried either. At least she could help and take water to the men. As she trudged across the plowed rows of the fields, she saw them. They stood side by side, going down the neat rows of dirt, bending and pushing seeds into the soft ground. They patted each spot, took a step, bent, planted, patted, stood and stepped, in a kind of dance. In unison. 22


Setting down the bucket, she watched them. Cooper’s laughter floated back to her on the breeze and wrapped around her, making her feel safe and protected. She hefted the bucket again and plodded toward them, picking her way between the rows so as not to disturb the newly planted seeds. She’d do no good if she ruined their work. The sweat glistened off the men’s backs as she came closer. Both had removed their shirts as the morning heat had increased. She stopped several steps behind them. Scars crisscrossed both backs, black and white. She set the bucket down again, staring. Cooper owned this plantation. How could he have scars from being whipped? She blinked against the sun. She must be imagining it. She took a step closer. No. He had scars. What an ugly story those scars must tell. She could not ask. She did not know him well enough. An owner should not have suffered such horror. But, then, neither should have Arnou, especially if he were free. “When you goin’ to Stevens?” Arnou shoved another seed into the ground and righted himself. Cooper stepped forward. “I’ll go this afternoon, but you have to keep planting.” “No problem.” Arnou bent. “The new room’s all ready.” “How much money do you have?” Cooper stared across the plowed field. “Got me six-hundred-and-fifty dollars.” Arnou took a step forward. “What if that’s not enough? Stevens will ask top dollar. She’s of breeding age and in good health from what you say.” Cooper stepped beside Arnou and bent to shove a seed in the ground. “Ma’s got another hundred-and-fifty. That ought to be enough.” Arnou looked at Cooper. “He can’t be asking more than that.” “I’d hope not.” Cooper pulled seeds from the brown leather bag 23


hanging from his shoulders. “But you never know.” He wiped his hand across his brow. “You’re positive you want to spend all your money on a bride? You could buy land or something.” Arnou punched Cooper in the arm. “What good’s land without no one to share it?” They seemed more like brothers than landlord and worker. Their easiness together gave her a warm feeling. A feeling that seemed unnatural, foreign. Had she no one who cared for her? Cooper punched him back. “Wife’s a mighty lot of responsibility.” “I know. I’m not a child.” Arnou straightened to his full height. “I’ve grown up.” Cooper laughed. “And you’re sure you’re ready to have a wife?” “Been ready a while.” Arnou took a step. Cooper paused, falling a step behind Arnou. “Love can bring pain.” Arnou put a hand on Cooper’s arm. “We all loved Ellen and mourn with you.” He looked out across the field. “She wouldn’t be wanting any of us to mourn her forever. She loved life. She loved this place. And she loved you. She’d want you happy.” He bent and shoved a seed into the ground and patted the dirt over it. “We can’t stop living because she’s gone.” They shared their feelings with each other in such a matter-of-fact way. Had she been that way with her sister? A heaviness within her told her no. Cooper sighed and moved forward. “But it’s not the same without her.” “Won’t be.” Arnou took another step. “She wanted this place to grow and be home. For all of us.” “She did.” Cooper nodded, then bent down to plant a seed. “How will I know which girl is Ilde?” “She’ll wear a red bandana tucked in her belt.” Arnou rubbed the sweat from his forehead. 24


She coughed to draw their attention to her, feeling guilty for eavesdropping. Cooper turned. A smile spread across his face. Arnou waved at her. “Water. Just the thing.” Cooper strode toward her. Arnou stepped up beside her as she filled the dipper and held it out. He took it, draining it and dipped it back in the pail before handing the dipper to Cooper. Cooper drained the cup, refilled it and drained it again. Then he poured a dipper full over his head and rubbed it across his face as it dripped. His skin glistened and his chest hairs caught the droplets of water then trailed down to the top of his trousers. His muscles rippled as he wiped his face. She wanted to touch his chest and feel the cool water against the heated flesh. Her stomach fluttered and she looked away from him, afraid her thoughts would play across her face. “That feels better.” He handed the dipper to Arnou. “Nice of you to bring us water,” he said to her. She smiled at him. She wanted to touch her lips in remembrance of last night’s kiss. Warmth spread through her body, a tingle filling her middle. “I asked Maura what I could do to help and she handed me the pail.” She laughed. “I wasn’t much help with Megan. I couldn’t get her diaper to stay up no matter what I tried.” Cooper took the dipper. “It takes practice, especially as much as the child squirms.” Arnou smiled at her, his straight, white teeth catching the glint of the sun. “Don’t feel bad. The last time I kept her, she ran around barebottomed leaving puddles on the floor. No matter what I did, she walked out of her nappers.” She set the pail down in the earth. “I feel as though I am in the way. Maura seems to have everything well in hand.” She shrugged. “No one needs my help.” 25


A frown flashed across Cooper’s face. He reached out to touch the side of her face, but then glanced at his hand, pulled it back and wiped it on his trousers. “For the last several months, she’s managed without another woman about.” He glanced away and back. “I’m sure she enjoys having your company.” A muscle twitched on the side of his face. Her fingers itched to caress it and soothe the hurt from him as he had comforted her last night. She wanted to kiss him until the sadness left him. Until the fear in the pit of her stomach was replaced by the wanting of him. “I don’t seem to be much company. She does most of the talking and I do the listening.” “Don’t fret.” Arnou took a dipper full of water. “Ma loves to talk. When no one’s about, she talks to herself. You don’t even have to answer.” He smiled, a crooked smile. “Hell, you don’t even have to listen.” Cooper gave Arnou a shove. “What a terrible thing to say about your ma.” Arnou laughed, a loud, happy sound that swirled around her and blanketed her. “But the truth and you know it.” Cooper’s laugh joined Arnou’s, but the sound had a touch of sadness to it. “Surely is. That woman does like to hear herself talk.” “Thanks for the water.” Arnou tipped his head to her, a smile still on his face. “Best get back to work. Can’t be lollygagging around all day.” “Especially if you expect me to be getting you a wife.” He took her hand. “Thanks for bringing us water. It’s hotter than h…” His cheeks flushed pink. “Planting crops is hot work.” His touch pushed back the fear in her and warmed her to her center. It made her feel safe for the moment, and she wished he would never release her hand. She wished he would take her into his arms again. She stared at his lips, wishing he’d kiss her again. “Glad to be of service 26


after all you’ve done for me.” She wished she had some other way to repay him. If she thought he’d take it, she’d leave him her necklace. “I haven’t done much but give you some food and a place to lay your head.” He touched her bandage. She leaned her head against his hand, drawing on his strength. She brushed his hair back from his face. Sweat and dirt streaked it and now the tips of her fingers. She wanted to be in his arms and she didn’t care about the dirt. He smelled of warm earth and promises. “How’s your head?” “It hurts a bit, but not nearly as much as yesterday.” So why didn’t her memory return? Letting his hand fall to his side, he looked across the field. “You thought anymore about sending a message to the riverboat landing?” She nodded. Every time she thought of going there, a cold chill ran through her and her heart threatened to stop beating. “If I won’t be a bother, I would rather wait a few days.” She wiped her hands on her skirt and tried to still the trembling within her. If he would take her into his arms, the trembling would stop. She wanted him to hold her, but she knew his pain kept him from doing so. “That’ll be fine. The crops need planting, but we plan on going to town the end of the week. On the way, we can check at the riverboat landing to see if anyone’s looking for you in town.” She hugged herself with her arms. Tears came to her eyes and she shook. She looked across the fields at the row of trees bordering the property so he couldn’t see her face. What frightened her so? Some unknown danger lurked not far away. Trying to get the lump in her throat down so she could speak, she swallowed twice. He touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “You came from the river. A riverboat is the best guess. Someone must be looking for you.” 27


Blinking back the tears, she looked into his eyes. “That’s what scares me.” The fear rushed through her. “Do you remember something?” He studied her face. “No.” She shook her head. “No. It’s a feeling. A feeling something terrible will happen if he finds me.” “He?” “It must be a man.” She tried to smile. “A woman would not make me tremble so.” “You’ve nothing to fear.” He caressed the side of her face then drew his hand back. “I won’t let any harm come to you.” She wished he would touch her again. Hold her. The world didn’t seem so confusing or frightening when he did. “You are not required to be my protector.” She would not mind staying. A warmth coming from the love shared in his house permeated everything around him. She didn’t think she’d ever felt anything like it, but she wanted to. “Besides, I have caused enough commotion around here.” He took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. “Nonsense. We are glad to be of help.” She let a sigh rattle through her and clung to his hands. She needed his touch. She wanted it. “I am being such a bother. A silly female prone to flights of fancy as my father would say.” Cooper gave her a big smile. “See you remembered something.” She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. “I did.” She shrugged. “It does no good to remember. I still do not know who I am or from where I came.” “Your memories will return.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I have to get back to work. Arnou has plans for me this afternoon.” Coldness swept over her at the loss of his touch. “He is in love.” Had she ever loved someone as much as Arnou loved Ilde? Her heart fluttered. Did she have a beau waiting for her? A husband? “Love has its dark side.” 28


She touched his cheek. “Heartache comes to all of us.” His eyes closed over. “We cannot go about calling you miss. Everyone needs a name.” “But I do not remember mine.” “Then I shall give you one until you remember.” He looked into the sky. “I know. We’ll call you Becka.” “Was that the name of someone you loved?” She didn’t wish to be called by the name of some lost love. “My little sister. She was always happy and had a smile upon her face.” “Had?” “When she was eight she died, but while she lived, she brightened our lives.” “It is a beautiful name.” “And it will do?” “Until I find my real name.”

29


CHAPTER 3

Cooper looked around Eric Stevens’ office after the black maid ushered him into the room. The Stevens’ house was larger than his with finer furniture. Steven’s owned a larger piece of land than he did and had come from money. He hadn’t struggled and clawed his way to where he was today the way Cooper had. Cooper was proud of what he’d accomplished. He owned fifty acres and hoped eventually to add to his property, but, for the moment, he would be glad to have another pair of hands about to help with the work. Wiping his hands on his pants, he fiddled with his string tie. He could hear Maura fretting at him about pulling on it and making it crooked, but the damn thing choked him. He didn’t know why he had to act the part of a gentleman. He was a farmer. Plain and simple. Maura had told him Stevens would respect him more if he acted like a gentleman and he’d probably get a better deal. After all, Stevens 30


acted like a gentleman. Cooper sat in one of the overstuffed green chairs, stretching out his legs under the heavy oak desk. Rather than popping in unannounced, he should have sent word he intended to visit. After all it was the middle of the week. But he really didn’t have anyone to send with a message and Arnou’s impatience mounted with each passing day. Stevens was probably working out in the fields. As the door behind him opened, he sat up straight. Stevens strode across the room, his hand extended. “Glad to see you.” Cooper stood and took Stevens’ hand. Stevens moved to a dark stained cabinet across the room and pulled out a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. “Care for a drink? It’s turned out to be a warm day.” Other than the dust on Stevens’ boots, he didn’t appear to have been hard at work. His black coat hung open exposing an immaculate white shirt and perfectly tied tie. Then he’d kept Cooper waiting, so he may have changed so as not to appear like a common laborer. Cooper smiled. Even if Stevens put on pretenses, he wouldn’t. “That would be right nice.” Cooper sat and leaned back in the chair. After handing him a scotch, Stevens sat in the chair next to him. “To what do I owe the honor of a visit?” Sipping at his drink, Cooper shifted to face Stevens. “I need a female sl…” The word stuck in his mouth and he shifted in his chair. “For that darky of yours.” Stevens nodded and took a drink. “I got several females, but I really wasn’t thinking on selling.” He placed the glass on his desk and drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Why’d you come today?” “I heard you wanted to sell off one or two of your Negroes.” Cooper finished the warm liquid. “I talked about it, but changed my mind.” Stevens shifted forward 31


in his chair. “Let me think on it for a day or two, and I’ll get back to you.” A knot formed in Cooper’s stomach and his hands began sweating again. He didn’t much care to be haggling over human flesh, nor did he cotton to the idea of going back and telling Arnou Ilde wasn’t for sale. A man ought to have the right to court a woman and ask for her hand. He oughtn’t to have to buy himself a wife. Not wanting Stevens to realize he was nervous about this whole situation, he took in a deep breath. “That’ll be too late.” He rose. Stevens waved him back in the chair and refilled his glass. “I don’t see why you need to make up your mind in such a rush. A couple more days can’t matter.” “I’m planning on going to the…” He swallowed twice. “Slave auction on Saturday, but I figured as you were a neighbor, I’d give my business to you.” Cooper took the glass and sipped the Scotch, letting the warmth seep through him, trying to calm his jangling nerves. The liquor made him sweat worse. “Right thoughtful of you.” Stevens looked across the room a moment as if studying the portrait of his father. Then he turned back to Cooper. “I do have more females than I need. I could do with another big, husky male to work in the fields.” He took another sip of his drink. “I suppose I could sell you a mate for your darky.” He rose from his chair. “Come along and I’ll show you what I have.” He stopped and looked at Cooper. “Unless you know which female you want.” “The only one I’ve seen is the one who let me in the house and I’m not interested in a maid.” Cooper smiled. “My house isn’t big enough for two females.” Stevens led the way out the back of the house and to the slave quarters. “They’re just now coming in from the fields.” He waved his hand at a large black man who sauntered over to him. “Line up all the females.” With his arms crossed, Stevens watched 32


as the giant of a man lumbered back and barked orders to the females. Cooper wiped his hands on his breeches again. Now came the part he’d watched but never done. He’d never purchased another human being. He’d watched others do it. It was a degrading process. A shiver ran through him as he watched seven young women form a row. Ilde, with her red scarf, stood third from the end. He moved toward the row to examine each woman. If Stevens knew he had already made his choice, the price would rise. Or worse. He looked over the first woman. She seemed fine. “Open your mouth,” snapped Stevens. After she obeyed, Cooper looked at her teeth. They were white and straight. As he tried to appeared interested, he moved on to the second woman, looking her over and examining her teeth. The third woman had scars on her arms. He held up one arm. Stevens shrugged his shoulders. “When she came here, we had a few problems.” Cooper didn’t want to know what problems. His vision blurred and he no longer stood by Steven’s slave quarters, but was fourteen, in England, and stood in line while the estate owner came down the row, examining each of them. The man’s face was red and contorted in rage because someone had not rubbed down one of his horses properly. It hadn’t been Cooper’s job, but the estate owner didn’t care. He took his anger out on all of them for the one’s mistake. A riding crop gripped in his hand, he struck each of them across the arms and shoulders, screaming about how worthless they were. Cooper had refused to flinch no matter how much the riding crop stung. He raised his chin and gritted his teeth. Unable to stop the estate owner’s actions, he could only bear them. “I can have them drop their dresses if you like.” Stevens’ voice sounded very far away. For a moment, Cooper stood 33


still, then shook his head. Partly in answer, partly to clear the visions. He forced himself to continue to examine the women. When he came to the end of the line, he walked back and stood bedside Stevens, pretending to study the women. He drew in a slow breath, tried to calm his quaking stomach and forced himself not to wipe his sweating hands on his trousers. A trickle of sweat ran between his shoulder blades. He hoped it wouldn’t soak through so Stevens could notice. The heat wasn’t that bad. “Have you decided?” Stevens dabbed at his brow with a white, lace-trimmed handkerchief. “Hmmmm.” Cooper pursed his lips, trying not to appear overanxious. He hadn’t any money to spare. “The second one from the right is a hard worker and healthy. Prime condition.” Stevens smiled. Cooper suppressed a shudder. “She seems a good choice.” He looked down the row and back. “How much?” Stevens took off his hat and wiped his forehead. “For you, eighthundred-and-fifty dollars.” His smile seemed strained. Cooper nearly gasped, but managed to cover it with a cough. “How about four hundred for the third one from the left? She seems a bit puny.” “You don’t want that one. She’s not very strong.” “She seems strong enough for what I need.” Cooper couldn’t stare any longer at the women standing before him, waiting for him to choose one like he was picking a prize pig. He glanced over at Stevens. “Even a puny as she is, I can’t let her go for four hundred. She’s worth at least seven.” Stevens tucked his handkerchief back into his sleeve. Cooper sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to walk over to Ilde. If he could get around it, he wasn’t paying that price. He examined her again and gave her a half smile. She made no response. 34


After looking her over, he turned back to Stevens. “I couldn’t go higher than five.” The man stood several inches shorter than he and tilted his head to look at Cooper. “I’ll have to think on it for a day or two.” Stevens rubbed his chin. “That is a might low.” Cooper turned toward the house where his wagon was hitched. “I guess I’ll look at the auction on Saturday.” “Now don’t be so impatient.” Stevens moved to block his way. “I don’t know what the rush is.” Cooper stared him in the eyes. He’d never much liked his neighbor, and haggling over the price of a woman wasn’t raising his esteem. If Arnou didn’t love Ilde, he wouldn’t be doing this at all. But Arnou was in love and he wanted Ilde. Cooper would do anything to make his family happy. If not for Arnou and Maura, he’d never have survived Ellen’s death. “I could go as high as five-fifty.” Pushing back his coat, he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. There he could wipe the sweat from them unnoticed. His stomach did several flips. Stevens looked around Cooper at the line of women. “She only does about two-thirds the amount of work the others do.” He rubbed his chin again, staring at Ilde. “Five-fifty will do. You can come get her tomorrow.” Cooper studied Stevens’ face. He didn’t much like the look in his eyes. “I have the money with me. I’ll take her now.” Stevens laid a hand on Cooper’s sleeve, then drew back. “Always in such a hurry.” “I’ve wasted most of this afternoon. I can’t waste another to come back.” He took a step toward the house. If he didn’t come home with Ilde, he didn’t know what he’d say to Arnou. His gut told him it wouldn’t be safe if he left her here. Stevens suddenly seemed too interested in her. 35


Stevens shrugged. “Come to the house. I’ll draw up a bill of sale while she’s put in your wagon.” He walked toward a side door leading into his study. Cooper sat while Stevens pulled out a piece of paper and wrote on it. About halfway down the page, he paused and looked at Cooper while he nibbled on the end of his pen. “I was thinking…” A gleam came into Stevens’ eyes. A shiver ran down Cooper’s spine. Had he changed his mind about the price? Cooper could pay seven hundred for Ilde, but it would be nice if Arnou had some money to buy the things his wife would need. Ilde did look thinner than the other women. He didn’t want to be cheated, but he didn’t want to go home alone either. “Yes?” “You want a woman. I’m sure you see the profit in breeding your darkies. Though I can’t guarantee anything with that one.” Setting his pen aside, Stevens smiled again. “Now the other one…” “I don’t want to pay that much.” A cold clamminess came over Cooper as his heart skipped several beats. Stevens held up his hands. “No. No. I wasn’t thinking of asking for more money.” His smile spread across his face. “Actually, I was thinking about a trade.” “A trade?” What could he have that Stevens would want? “Yes.” Stevens nodded his head. “You have those ten acres where the White comes into the Mississippi that you’re not cultivating.” The spot where he’d found Becka. “And?” “I’ll trade you the other woman for those ten acres. They aren’t worth as much as she is, but I do have a use for them.” So did he. “I don’t wish to sell any of my property.” “It’s just sitting there.” Cooper nodded. “I plan on keeping it though. I’ll pay you the fivefifty for the one I picked and be on my way.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his wallet. 36


Stevens continued to smile at him. “You should reconsider. You’re not making a profit on the land, and I’m sure you could use your cash for something better. The woman you picked may or may not bear children, but I can guarantee the other will. You’ll be better off all the way around.” He couldn’t explain to Stevens this was not a business deal, but an affair of the heart. Then he’d probably want the money and the land. “No.” Cooper leaned forward in his chair and placed his hand on the desk. “Now, are you interested in selling me the—woman, or shall I look elsewhere?” Stevens sighed and his shoulders slumped for a moment. “All right.” He picked up his pen and continued writing. Pausing, he looked at Cooper. “Think about it. I’d be willing to pay for the land. Or give you the other darky.” Cooper took the paper from Stevens and pretended to read it as he looked it over. He picked out a few words like sale and slave and the price. He took the pen from Stevens and signed his name to the bottom as Ellen had taught him. Stevens handed him a second copy to sign, then, after blowing on the ink, slid it into his desk. Stevens stood. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” Cooper took Stevens’ extended hand and shook it. He carefully folded the paper and slipped it inside his wallet. After Stevens walked him to the door, he let out a deep sigh. He’d survived the ordeal and Arnou would have his Ilde. *

*

*

She carried a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses out to the front porch where Cooper sat, pushing himself back and forth in the swing. She set the tray down on the table on the porch and looked where he looked, seeing a large oak in the front yard with a chattering squirrel. She smiled. The small, reddish-brown creature stood on its hind legs, spewing forth obscenities at the world around it. 37


“It sounds very angry.” Cooper blinked and looked at her. “What?” “The squirrel.” She folded her hands in front of her. Cooper looked toward the front yard. “Oh. Yes, it does.” He smiled and stilled the swing. “Sit with me.” Taking a seat, she let her hands settle in her lap. He sat stiffly next to her and pushed his feet against the porch setting the swing in motion. The squirrel finished its tirade and disappeared into a hole in the tree. This place was so peaceful. She could become accustomed to it, but something at the back of her mind nagged at her. She couldn’t get it to come forth so she could know what she needed to do, but it seemed important. “I can’t understand it.” He stopped the swing and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands. She looked at him, hunched forward. “What?” “How people can trade in human flesh.” She looked away. She didn’t have an answer and doubted one existed. Slavery was part of Southern society. She blinked. Had she owned slaves? She shrugged unable to remember. He leaned back. “Arnou is ecstatic, but what an ordeal.” “Buying Ilde?” He nodded. “But think of the happiness your friend will have because of your action.” She leaned back and gave a gentle push with her feet. “Besides, is not Ilde better off here?” Cooper’s laugh sounded harsh and forced. “I hope so.” She patted his leg. She looked at the yard so she wouldn’t stare at his lips. Warmth traveled up her arm from where her hand touched his leg as she felt his muscles contract and stretch as he helped push the swing. A fluttery feeling started in the middle of her and spread outwards. “You must believe that or you would not have gone to 38


purchase her.” “I don’t know that I’ve done my friend a favor by bringing her here.” He stared in front of him as though unaware of her touch. “He loves her. I don’t want to see his heart broken if he loses her.” “You must not be such a foreswearer of doom. We all lose loved ones, but that does not mean Arnou will lose Ilde.” She sighed. Such pain he carried. It seemed to block out all else. She pulled her hand back into her lap. She needed to put aside her thoughts of him. He didn’t need her and, until she knew who she was, she had no right to ask anything of him. “You must bless them and wish them a long, happy life together.” “I’ll say the words, but that doesn’t mean I believe them.” “We all bury ones we love. That doesn’t mean we must stop living or loving.” She laid her hand on his arm this time, wishing she could wipe away the hurt with a touch. Wishing she could give him the happiness he gave her with a touch. She suppressed a sigh. He stared at her. Grief and pain clouded his gray eyes. “Have you buried a loved one?” She hesitated then shrugged. “I must have. At my age, it would be unimaginable that I had not, but I do not remember who. Only a twinge of pain.” “Sometimes I wish I could forget everything.” She shook her head. “No. I would rather know the grief than know nothing.” She tightened her grip on his arm. Being close to him made her feel safe. The curtain of fear hanging over her seemed to separate and let in hope. “Besides, would you wish to forget your children or Arnou and Maura?” “You’re right. I would never wish to forget the rest of my family.” He looked away. “But I miss her.” “She was your wife and you loved her.” “She was the first person who…” He pulled at his tie and let it fall 39


loose. “Now you have others who love you.” She wondered if anyone missed her. Parents? A sister? A husband? “It would be awful if no one cared.” Taking her hand in his, he rubbed the back with his thumb. “I should be happy because I do have a family who loves me. And I’m sure you have one also. We’ll find them.” “Do you think so?” She found it hard to concentrate on anything but his touch. With him so close, she didn’t care if she found her family. She only wanted him to hold her again and kiss her. “I promise you, Becka, we’ll find where you came from.” He stopped the swing and poured himself a glass of lemonade. “Thanks.” He held the glass up to her. “You looked hot.” She glanced away. Her thoughts were improper, but she didn’t care. She needed him. When he’d held her, the world had seemed to right itself and she’d wanted nothing more than to remain in his arms. Forever. Feeling his strength. Feeling the rush of heat through her. The wanting of something she wasn’t sure she understood. “It was a most interesting afternoon.” He smiled over the top of the glass. “One that doesn’t bear repeating.” He grimaced, his eyebrows pulling together. She stood to pour herself a glass of lemonade. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He grinned. “I stopped doing that about the time Stevens offered to have the young women drop their clothes so I could get a better look.” His face flushed red. “He what?” She coughed as the lemonade slipped down the wrong way. “Yep. Told me he could have them to drop their dresses. I thought I’d die of embarrassment.” “Did they?” “Heavens, no. I stopped him before he ordered them to do it. It was 40


bad enough looking at their teeth. Like I have any idea what I’m looking at. They all had teeth.” He shifted on the seat. She giggled, his embarrassment endearing him to her even more. Her fingers itched to caress his cheek. She wrapped them around the glass instead. “Why didn’t you just ask for Ilde?” “The price would’ve doubled if he thought I had my heart set on a particular woman.” “He had to know you bought her for Arnou. What other reason would you have?” She looked into his eyes and wondered why she was drawn to this man. Was there something in his pain that spoke to her hovering dread? He drained his glass and set it back on the tray. “He thinks I want to breed them so I can sell their children.” “Oh, good grief. What a horrid thought.” Her heart beat faster, but she was no longer sure if it was because his arm brushed against her as they swung, or because of the story he told. “It’s done all the time. Arnou’s father and two sisters were sold off.” A flash of anger went through his eyes. She took his hand, feeling the roughness of his skin. A man’s hand. Unlike any she thought she’d felt before. A touch that sent quivers down her spine and heat into her middle. “We know the truth and that is what matters.” “What matters is that no one else knows the truth.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “There would be trouble. Most don’t look highly on free Negroes. Nor would they like it much that Arnou was buying himself a wife and setting her free. I don’t need that kind of trouble.” She smiled at him. She would never hurt them. That much she could give to them. “I would do nothing to bring trouble on you after all you have done for me.” With his fingertips, he touched the side of her face. “I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t trust you.” 41


She smiled and cocked her head sideways pushing against his hand. She liked the rough feel of his skin against hers and wanted the touch to last. “Besides, at the moment the only people I remember already know.” He chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “You have such soft skin. You obviously haven’t been out in the sun much.” She stared into his eyes. The pain had receded. He seemed more at peace, as though he had pushed away the hurting thoughts. “Maybe I’m a rich heiress someone is searching for and will offer you a great reward for my return.” His eyes clouded over and his hand dropped to his lap. “I was joking.” She laid her hand on top of his. She didn’t want to create a barrier between them. Something told her she’d never had these feelings for a man before this. “With the jewelry you came with, it could be true.” She shrugged. “Many people have jewelry.” Something about the jewelry nagged at her. It belonged to someone other than her, someone she should remember. “What is it?” He lifted her chin with his hand. “The jewelry. I don’t think it is mine, but I should remember who it belongs to. I know it is important.” “It’ll come back to you. Then you can go home.” “I am not sure I wish to return home.” Love surrounded her here. A new and pleasant feeling she was sure. Besides, she wished to know Cooper better. To ease his pain. To see happiness light his eyes. To feel his arms around her again. To have his lips against hers. “Everyone wants to be with their family.” “Your family is here and they love you, but you must have had family before that. Do you wish to be with them?” “Not in the least. The only family I have is here.” She brushed his cheek with her fingertips. A bristle of beard grew. 42


“A family that loves you very much.” Staring at his lips, she wanted to kiss him. She leaned in slightly, as though his lips drew her to him. “All the family I need.” “I hope, when I remember, I find a family I want.” She blinked. His lips looked so inviting. She leaned into him and kissed him. He hesitated, then pulled her close. Her arm went around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Lightning shot behind her closed eyes and she moaned against his mouth. His hand slide up her back and rubbed her neck. She pressed herself closer to him, nearly crawling into his lap. She tangled her hands in his hair. He begged entrance to her mouth with his tongue, and she granted it, letting their tongues dance. Her insides melted and she wanted his hands to touch her. She wanted to feel the skin on his chest. She wanted to run her fingers through the hair that covered it. She squeezed her hand between them and touched his chest. His heart pounded against her. His breathing was ragged and matched hers. She felt a button beneath her fingers and started to undo it. She pulled back and broke the kiss. What had possessed her? She laid her head against his chest and listened to his heart. She toyed with the button, but left the shirt closed. A lady didn’t act in this fashion. Somehow she knew this. She sighed. He leaned his chin against her head. She snuggled closer to him.

43


CHAPTER 4

Becka poured coffee for Cooper and the rest while Maura served the white cake she’d made to celebrate Arnou’s and Ilde’s union. Maura smiled and her eyes gleamed. She sat down in the swing with Megan beside her and fed one bite of cake to the child and one to herself. She looked as if nothing in the world could intrude on the happiness she felt. “Come and sit here, Becka.” Cooper patted the step next to him where he sat with his legs sprawled out, sipping at his coffee. His cake sat on a plate next to him. Before she sat, she pressed her hands to her lips for a moment, then tucked her skirts about her so they didn’t touch Cooper’s leg. She tried to force the feeling of his lips from her memory. Her hands shook and she set down her coffee cup. She couldn’t believe she’d been brazen enough to kiss him. The kiss had rocked her to her toes. 44


She peeked at him and wondered if he remembered. A smile played across his face. He didn’t seem ill at ease with her next to him. Then he hadn’t broken the kiss or pulled away either. With a small sigh, she turned to look at Arnou and Ilde. They sat on the porch with their feet hanging over the edge. Arnou wrapped his arm around Ilde and she nestled her head against his shoulder. Arnou seemed about to burst with happiness. “I don’t believe you managed Stevens so well.” Maura pulled Joshua up into the swing and set a plate with a piece of cake in his lap. Cooper laughed. “You don’t have much faith in me, do you?” “She must have faith in you.” She cut a bite from the cake. “The whole time you were gone, she spent baking this cake and fixing that wonderful supper.” Becka held the fork poised. “She wouldn’t let me help.” “That’s because I was making a special meal for my son and his new wife.” Maura’s dark eyes sparkled. She giggled. “And because she knows I can’t cook. That is something we’ve discovered I have absolutely no knowledge of. My coffee resembled mud and my biscuits hardtack.” Cooper patted her shoulder. “Your dress didn’t appear to belong to someone familiar with a kitchen.” “I can teach her.” Maura fed Megan another bite of cake. “I can teach anyone.” “Will you teach me?” Ilde asked in a whisper. “I want to be able to cook Arnou’s favorite foods.” Arnou smiled at Ilde. “I’ll love anything you cook.” “Love.” Cooper shook his head. Sadness touched his eyes. “It’ll make a man do the strangest things.” She laid her hand on Cooper’s leg. “Like going to the neighbor’s to procure a wife.” Cooper squeezed her hand. “And I’m not even the one in love.” 45


Warmth seeped into her and deep inside a prickling started. “You did such a wonderful job for your friend.” “Yes, Coop, you did splendidly.” Maura smiled at him. “Thank you for making all of us so happy.” Red crept up Cooper’s face. He shrugged and shifted on the step. “It was nothing.” “But it was.” Arnou patted Ilde’s arm. “I’ve never been so happy.” “I hope it lasts.” The darkness flitted through Cooper’s eyes again. Becka brushed the side of his face. “Nothing is rooted in permanence.” She knew that better than anyone. Her whole life had vanished in a heartbeat. “We have to grab what happiness we can.” She had been happy since Cooper had rescued her from the riverbank. Happier, she believed, than she had been in years. A cloud seemed to hang over her. Some doom. Something she didn’t want to remember. She wanted to stay here—the mysterious woman, happy with life, or at least content and next to Cooper. “I thank you for my chance,” said Arnou. “I prayed all afternoon that you would return with Ilde. That Stevens wouldn’t make it impossible for you to honor your promise,” said Maura. “I’d have done most anything not to come home alone.” Cooper fiddled with the button on his shirt sleeve. “You did fine,” said Arnou. “I don’t know how you did it.” “I used my charm and business experience.” Cooper flashed a smile. He seemed quite pleased with himself, but then why shouldn’t he? Pride filled her. “You did a wonderful thing.” She let her hand linger on his leg. “You don’t have the experience Stevens does.” Maura held a glass of milk to Megan’s lips. “He could’ve taken advantage of you.” “You must have more faith in me.” Cooper straightened his 46


shoulders. “I do well at handling the business to do with the farm.” “Yes, you do. And you brought me not only a wife, but money so I can buy her a wedding present.” Arnou hugged Ilde. “I don’t need no wedding present.” Ilde smiled, moonlight flashing on her straight, white teeth. “I have all I need.” Something twinged inside of Becka as she watched the couple. Had she ever had someone who loved her like Arnou loved Ilde? An empty feeling inside her said no. Or had she lost someone she’d loved as Cooper had loved Ellen? She looked at Cooper. She wanted to belong here with all of them and bask in the love that flowed from them. She wanted Cooper to look at her the way Arnou looked at Ilde. She could only remain an outsider. Her missing past shadowed everything. “I couldn’t see giving Stephens any more than I had to.” He smiled. “I hate when the large landowner takes advantage of others.” “Why do you think Stephens wanted the land?” Arnou asked. Cooper turned so he could look at the couple. “I haven’t a guess. It does abut his property, but half of it is swamp.” “I’m glad he didn’t insist.” Arnou kissed Ilde on the forehead. “I couldn’t come home without her.” Cooper set his coffee cup down and picked up his cake. “I didn’t want to face you.” Arnou laughed. “I’d’ve understood.” “Like hell.” Cooper forked a large piece of cake into his mouth. “I wouldn’t have held you to blame.” “But you’d have moped around here with your lip dragging on the ground and been worthless.” Cooper took a sip of coffee. Becka knew Cooper was correct. She had watched Arnou earlier in the day as he had worked in the fields alone, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly in the direction Cooper had ridden. The once-smooth dance he had performed while planting had turned into a jerky affair, his 47


rhythm lost to his vigilance, waiting for Cooper to return. Setting down the glass of milk, Maura clasped her hands in her lap. “I knew Coop wouldn’t return without her.” She smiled at him. “I don’t rightly remember when I’ve been so happy.” She turned her smile on Arnou. “I have a son and a daughter, and soon I’ll have grandchildren to fuss over.” She looked back to Cooper. “And thanks to you, I don’t never have to worry about my grandchildren being sold away.” “I’d never let anything happen to your family.” Cooper patted Maura’s leg. Maura took his hand. “I know you wouldn’t, Coop.” Picking up Megan, she stood. “I best put the children to bed. Their eyelids is sagging.” “I’ll help.” Becka stood and reached for Joshua’s hand. He rubbed his eyes and took her hand. “I don’t need help.” “I know you don’t, sweetheart, but I’ll tuck you in anyway.” Joshua leaned against her leg. “That would be nice.” She led the child upstairs to his room and helped him change into his night clothes. After he crawled into bed, she tucked the covers up under his chin before she turned down the lamp. “Becka, are Arnou and Ilde married?” Joshua snuggled under the covers. “Yes.” He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then back at her. “Will they have children and live together as a family?” “Of course.” Such strange questions he asked. She wondered why. “Will Ilde go away when her children are young?” He blinked his eyes. “We’ll hope not. Sometimes a mother can’t help but go away. She didn’t leave you because she wanted to.” Smoothing back his hair, she kissed him on the cheek. “I miss her.” He pressed his cheek against her hand. 48


“I know.” “Do you miss your mama?” Tears sparkled in his eyes. “No. Yes. I am not sure.” She smiled at him. “I am not sure I have a mama any more.” He touched her arm. “That has to be sadder than losing your mama. At least I remember mine and can remember the happy times.” He wiped at his eyes. “Mama used to always tell me a story when she put me to bed. Do you remember any?” She settled on the side of the bed. She didn’t remember a story, but she was sure she could make one up. One about a little boy. “I’ll tell you a story if you close your eyes. Once there was a small boy…” Before she finished the story, Jacob slept soundly. She tucked the blankets around him, and crept out of the room and back down the stairs. “Oh, good, you’re back.” Cooper patted the step. “I have a present for Arnou and Ilde and we’ve been waiting for you to return.” “I was telling a story to Jacob.” Cooper smiled at her. “Thank you. He’s always loved stories.” He stood. “For the new couple, I wish you happiness always and a long life together.” Arnou nodded his head. “Thank you.” Ilde smiled and pressed against Arnou. Even though Ilde smiled, she seemed hesitant. Becka knew the young woman was only seventeen and probably still couldn’t believe she had a husband and a home, and no longer answered to a master. Ilde didn’t know how lucky she was. “Happiness and many children,” she said. “The present?” Arnou leaned forward. “After all you done for him today, he expects more.” Maura tsked. “He should be happy with what you done.” “I know.” Cooper smiled at Maura. “But, if I hadn’t been helped 49


when I married Ellen, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” He swung his arm in an arc. “Her parents helped us by giving us money for the land.” He coughed. As she rocked the swing, Maura laughed. “But family shouldn’t be expecting so many presents in one day.” “Oh, Ma, be quiet. Coop’s giving us a little present to celebrate the day. I don’t expect nothing big.” Arnou glared at his mother. Cooper held up his hands. “Can I have quiet so I can do this?” Becka laughed. They fought, but with love. She could tell they always loved each other. Cooper pulled a paper from his pocket. “First, this belongs to you, Arnou. It’s the bill of sale from Stevens.” She took it to hand to Arnou, glancing at the neat writing that flowed across the white paper. She read while Cooper continued to talk. “I’m giving you the ten acres down by the river,” Cooper said. “What?” Arnou exclaimed. “That’s too much,” said Maura. “Too much.” She glanced up at them as they discussed the land. “It’s what I want to give.” Cooper frowned. “We didn’t expect so much.” Arnou stood and gave Cooper a hug. “Getting Ilde for me is enough.” Cooper pounded Arnou on the back. “You’re going to raise a family, and you need land so you can support them. A family man shouldn’t be beholden to anyone.” He pushed Arnou back and looked at him. “I want you to have it. I figure you could plant rice. There’s plenty of water down there.” “I can’t do it by myself.” Arnou gripped Cooper’s hand. “Figure you can pay me for working your fields like I pay you for working mine.” A bright smile crossed Cooper’s face. “And, might be you could build a house for you and Ilde on the dry part. A place for your children to grow up.” 50


Becka stared at the paper in her hand. “Did you read this before you signed it?” “Yeah.” Cooper pursed his mouth. “There a problem?” Maura’s eyes widened. “Don’t none of us read more than a few words Miss Ellen taught us.” Arnou pulled Ilde to him. “She’s here to stay?” “Yes.” She nodded her head. “Ilde belongs to Cooper according to this.” “Stevens cheated me. I signed away the land and paid the money.” Cooper’s shoulders sagged. “No. The land isn’t mention in this.” She crumpled the edges of the paper, wishing the writing away. Why did she have to remember how to read when she couldn’t remember anything else? “Then what, Becka?” He stared at the paper as though it were the devil himself. She took in a deep breath. She was about to rip the happiness away from this family that had been so kind to her. How could she do it? “You signed away their first born child to Stevens.” Maura gasped. Ilde swooned into Arnou, who looked like he wasn’t breathing. Becka held the paper in her hands, crumpling the edges. *

*

*

Cooper stared at each one in turn. His stomach flipped and he swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. A sinking feeling settled on him. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry, but he’d been worried about what would happen to Ilde if he left her with Stevens. If Ellen had still been alive, she would have gone with him and read the bill of sale before he signed it. He would never have agreed. Never. If he’d known Becka could read, he would have taken her. But then, he’d never have thought Stevens would add such a clause without saying something. 51


“I’ll fix it.” Arnou pulled Ilde to him. “How?” He kicked the stair. “I don’t know, but I’ll fix it.” He stared out into the yard. “I’ll find a way.” “If we’ve got to give Stevens the land, we will.” Arnou held Ilde and rocked back and forth while a low moan issued from her. “Only as a last resort.” Cooper clenched his hands into fists. He wouldn’t let his friend feel the heartbreak he had. He’d never give up Arnou’s child. Never. “I…There has to be a way.” He looked at Becka as though she might hold the answer. Her eyes rimmed with tears as she looked back at him. He looked away. He had betrayed those he loved. How could he fix it? He’d signed his name. There had to be a way. Cooper threw his hands up in the air. “I didn’t do it on purpose.” “I know.” Arnou’s voice was gruff as he stroked Ilde’s back. “Don’t worry about it.” Cooper hated the fact Becka had read the bill of sale tonight. The day should have ended with happiness, not despair. “How can’t I? My first child promised to that man.” Arnou stood and pulled Ilde with him. “Come.” He jumped off the porch and lifted her down. “Wait.” Cooper reached out a hand to stop Arnou. Arnou brushed it away. “Don’t let it eat at you.” Cooper took in a deep breath. “I’ll figure on what to do. We’ve got time.” He took a step toward Arnou. “After all, she isn’t even with child yet. That gives us time to find a way out.” Arnou stopped, shielding Ilde in his arms. “He managed to snatch happiness away. A great black cloud hangs over us.” He looked into Cooper’s eyes. “It’s not your fault, but he brought such great sadness to Ilde.” 52


Jumping up, Becka placed her hand on Arnou’s shoulder. “Do not let him take your happiness. Hold on to it with both hands because too many things want to take it away.” She smiled up at Cooper. “He will find an answer. It is too soon to fret about it. Do your fretting after Ilde has birthed a baby…if the problem hasn’t been solved.” Cooper touch Arnou’s arm. “Listen to her. I promise I’ll find a way around this. Even if I have to give him the ten acres I gave to you and give you another ten.” “That’s not necessary.” Arnou grabbed Cooper’s arm. “I’ll gladly give the land for my child.” “I made the mistake so I’ll pay what’s necessary.” Maura stepped off the porch and put her arms around Cooper and Arnou. “We’re family. We’ll find the answer.” She kissed Arnou’s cheek. “Coop’s right. We’ve time.” She kissed Cooper’s cheek. “You did the best you could. Now we’ll work together to find the answer.” She brushed her fingertips across Ilde’s face. “Now’s not the time for tears. Now’s the time to celebrate you’re together and no one can sell you apart on a whim. Count the blessings you have.” Amazement at her fortitude filled Cooper. Her husband and two of her children had been sold away, and she had no idea where they were or even if they still lived. Yet she always seemed to find something to bring her happiness and for which to be thankful. He watched the three of them walk around the house toward their home. He sighed and turned to Becka. “What a muddle I’ve made of things.” “I am sure it can be fixed.” She touched his arm. “Do not worry. Something will work out.” “You have a great deal of faith in me.” He stared into her eyes, looking for absolution. Everyone expected him to take care of matters, but then he was the only one who could. Arnou couldn’t deal for slaves or property. Most of his neighbors didn’t hold with Negroes owning land or slaves, though he knew a few did. 53


“It will be fine.” Becka smiled. The smile warmed him. His lips burned in memory of her kiss earlier. “Will you promise me one thing?” She cocked her head to the side. “What?” All he needed was to promise something else. He had enough promises he didn’t know if he could fulfill. “You will not sign any more papers until I read them.” He grimaced. “That’s one promise I can keep.” But how long would she stay to help him? Once she remembered who she was or they found her family, she would be gone and, the next time someone cheated him, he wouldn’t find out until it was too late. He pushed down the sick feeling that threatened to overwhelm him again. “And tomorrow evening, I shall start teaching both you and Arnou to read. And Jacob. That way, none of you can be cheated.” She put her fingers to her lips. “I shall turn in now.” He wanted to kiss her again. It had been so long since he’d held a woman. But he wouldn’t give his heart again, and if he kissed her again, she might steal it. “Good night.” He brushed the side of her face. He needed to touch her, if only for a moment. He needed to know everyone didn’t hate him. She snuggled her face against his hand. He drew her to him, capturing her lips, tasting her. She raised herself on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck. She pressed her body against his, and he cupped her bottom in his hands, pressing her harder against him. He could feel her breasts squash against his chest. She nipped at his lips, teasing. He ran his tongue across her lips and she sighed against his mouth. She tasted wonderful. More wonderful than anything he could imagine. He rubbed her back as he deepened their kiss, their tongues dancing. His desire pressed against her and his need raced through him. He hadn’t held a woman in too long, and this one fit against him 54


perfectly. As if she belonged with him. He broke the kiss and nibbled at her neck. She moaned softly and his desire grew. She pressed her belly against him and he groaned. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her up to her bedroom. The lilac smell of her swirled around him. He rubbed down her sides, feeling the swell of her breasts against his hands. He groaned. He wanted her. The heat radiating from her told him she wanted him. But who was she? Until he knew, he had no right. He pulled her arms from around his neck and pulled her tight against him, his arms encircling her. Her breathing came in ragged gulps. Her heart beat rapidly, matching his own. He kissed the top of her head. He had to let her go. “You’d best be abed.” He didn’t release her. She wrapped her arms around him and nodded against his chest. He set her back and kissed her softly. Then he stepped back, feeling as if part of him had been cut away. The horror of the evening settled on him as her heat left him. Listening to her footsteps on the porch and the door closing, he sighed and sank down on the steps, his head in his hands. He pulled the image of Ellen into his mind, but it had faded around the edges. He missed her. He would always miss her. But somehow tonight, her being gone didn’t hurt quite as much. Probably because he’d torn Arnou’s world apart and had to fix that. Why else would his heart not ache so strongly? He looked at the door through which Becka had disappeared. Then he shook his head.

55


CHAPTER 5

Jacques sat behind his polished desk in his New Orleans office. The sun glittered through the window where the heavy blue velvet drapes had been opened. A tiny rainbow sparkled on the top of his desk. He reached out his hand to it and it dispersed. When he moved his hand, the rainbow returned. Just like life. He reached out to grab the rainbow and it disappeared. He groaned. It had been four days and still no sign of Genevieve. He shoved back his chair and walked over to the window. He looked out at the busy street below with carriages clogging the thoroughfare. Ladies on their way to shop. Gentlemen hurrying to business appointments. Or assignations. He ground his teeth. He had to find her and the necklace. Soon. His stomach clenched. He’d been stupid to allow her to wear the necklace. But it had looked so beautiful against her throat and he’d thought if he plied her with enough baubles, she’d give in to him. He’d 56


never meant for her to keep them. Only use them while he showed her off on his arm. If only she hadn’t been so aloof. But that had been part of her charm. Unattainable. He smiled to himself. Ever since he’d been young, he’d gone after the unattainable. And he’d always gotten it. No one thwarted him. Until now. And he could blame no one but himself. If he hadn’t lost his temper when he’d found out she was a Rawlings, she wouldn’t have fallen overboard. He should have waited until she’d returned to her cabin. A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. Then he could have had the necklace and her. But, no. He’d lost his temper at being outwitted by a woman. And a Rawlings. He thought he’d taken care of that family…permanently…until Genevieve arrived. The old man never let on he had an older daughter. So Jacques had been caught completely unawares. If he’d known who she was, he would have done things differently. Very differently. A rapping sounded on the door. “Come in,” he growled. Phillippe sauntered in. The man always looked as if he hadn’t a care in the world,but Jacques had seen him slit a man’s throat without blinking. Which was part of the reason he’d hired the man. “Any news?” Jacques asked. After sitting in the dark brown leather wing chair, Phillippe draped his leg over the arm. He pulled a cigar from his pocket, clipped the end and lit it. Jacques often had the urge to wrap his fingers around the man’s neck and squeeze. Phillippe never imparted anything except in his own time. “Well..?” Jacques poured two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter and sat at his desk. 57


“No trace.” Phillippe took a sip of the brown liquid and swirled it in his mouth before he swallowed. “Ahh. Only the best from you.” He smiled. Jacques slammed his fist against his desk, making his glass skitter, the liquid sloshing over the edge and onto the polished surface. “Damn.” Standing, he grabbed a cloth, wiped off the desk, then balled it and threw it into a corner and sat. He glared at Phillippe. “There has to be a trace.” Phillippe shrugged. “Sorry. She’s gone. It’s gone.” Jacques stood and paced to the window. He wanted to scream at all those going about their business. He turned. “It can’t be.” Phillippe righted himself and leaned forward. “The river took it, along with her.” He drained his glass. “That damn necklace has to be somewhere.” Why had he picked that one? The one which had once belonged to her mother. He had a dozen others she could have worn, but, no, he had to prance about like a fool in front of a woman who wouldn’t give herself to him. Now he would pay the price. The bank would cancel his loan if he couldn’t produce the necklace. Without the loan… He wouldn’t let the Rawlings win. Genevieve had to be out there, somewhere, with the necklace. When he found her and had his property back, he’d deal with her. The last of the Rawlings. “It’s only been four days. Someone might’ve rescued her.” Phillippe looked at him as he puffed on his cigar. The gray smoke billowed into a cloud above his head. “Not likely.” “I don’t care how likely it is. Offer a reward for the return of Genevieve Rawlings and the necklace. Especially the necklace.” He smiled. Money would bring her back, if she weren’t on the bottom of the Mississippi. “I’ll pay a thousand dollars for her return. With the jewelry.” He drained his glass and went to refill it. Phillippe stared at him, then a slow smile crept across his face. A 58


smile, like all his others, that never touched his eyes. A shiver ran down Jacques’ back. He didn’t want to know what the man was thinking. “You want her dead or alive?” Phillippe took a long drag on his cigar, then let the smoke float out of his mouth. “I don’t care. As long as I get the necklace.” Without it, he faced ruin and after all of his careful plans. After turning to legitimate business. He wouldn’t let Genevieve best him. She was but a woman and he’d dealt with her sister and her father. Now he would deal with her. Then everything would be as it should be. *

*

*

Cooper stopped his wagon at the side of the road not far from where the platform had been built for the slave auction. The town wasn’t too large, but big enough to have two streets that ran parallel. Just behind him was the hotel, a large two-story affair recently whitewashed. Where the two streets emptied, an Episcopal church stood with its white spire reaching to the heavens. When Ellen had been alive, they had driven into town at least twice a month to attend church services. Tinny pianoforte music issued from the saloon opposite the hotel. Several men milled around the batwing doors, waiting for the auction to start. Arnou climbed up on the wagon next to Cooper. “Are you still worried?” Cooper asked. “No. Ilde and I talked about it. We’ll go north when the time comes.” Arnou stared at the crowd of people forming at the platform erected for the auction. “North. I don’t want to go north. I like it here. We’ve put too much work into the land to pull up and leave.” Cooper couldn’t blame his friend for feeling the way he did. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. 59


“I didn’t ask you to.” “You’re going to leave the children and me behind.” He remembered when he’d first seen Arnou, a scrawny kid of nine with big, scared eyes. He’d been afraid of Cooper in the beginning, but Maura had taken Cooper in after Chesterfield housed him next to Maura’s family and he and Arnou had become fast friends. “We’re family. If you have to go north, we all go. Stevens would probably be glad to buy all the land.” He laid his hand on Arnou’s leg. “But we got time to figure on this. Ilde isn’t even with child.” “Just letting you know.” “We got a good price for the chickens. That gives me a mite more to spend today.” They’d brought in two wagons filled with crates of chickens. He sold them to a broker who would ship them to New Orleans. Maura and Ilde had taken the eggs to sell to the store. Maura always got top price. Partly because Ellen had been good at negotiations and the store honored the prices she’d established, and partly because the chickens they raised laid double-yoked eggs. Becka had followed Maura with the children, and they were all going to do some shopping. Maura wanted cloth to make them new clothes. Becka shopped for tablets, pencils and books for their reading lessons. The lessons had begun three evenings ago. He’d invited Maura and Ilde to join them, but Maura said she was too old and had no need of book learning. Ilde hardly spoke around them and sat clinging to Arnou when they were all together. Jacob loved Becka teaching them and had learned twice as much as he and Arnou had when trying to teach themselves. He had a sneaking suspicion Jacob was getting extra lessons during the day while he and Arnou worked in the fields. “I’ll go look around. See what choices we have.” Arnou flashed him a smile. “Two workers would make it possible to plant some rice this year. Soon as we study on how.” 60


“Go on.” Jumping down, Cooper watched Arnou disappear through the crowd. He brushed a feather from his breeches. He hated chickens. If Maura weren’t so set on raising them, they’d be gone. The smell could knock a man off his feet. “Why, Mr. Monroe, it’s so nice to see you.” He looked at Mrs. Stewart, a heavyset woman with a feathered hat and a burgundy wool dress that strained at the seams. Standing beside her was her daughter, a skinny blonde with her hands clasped in front of her and her gaze darting around as if someone were about to attack her. Her pale yellow cotton dress made her look sallow. “Mrs. Stewart, how nice to see you.” He doffed his hat. She slanted back her parasol so she could look him in the eyes. “Come for the auction?” “Yes, ma’am.” Wanting to get away from her, he glanced toward the platform hoping it would start. “Must be doing right well.” She pursed her lips and nodded. Then she poked a finger at his chest. “We don’t see you often enough. You haven’t been to church in a long while.” Wishing someone would come by and rescue him, he forced himself to give her a smile. “It’s hard alone with the children.” “I know. The responsibility of children weighs on a body.” Mrs. Stewart patted his arm with her gloved hand. “It’s time you thought about another wife and a new mama for those sweet babies.” Her daughter took a step backward, her gaze on her feet. “It hasn’t been that long.” Gritting his teeth, he looked for a polite way to escape. “I really need to get over to the auction.” He wished Maura had stayed to protect him. Or Becka. With her on his arm, Mrs. Stewart wouldn’t be hanging on him. “Why it hasn’t started yet.” “I want to see what they’re going to be—” She tskked. “My Harold is over there. Men must attend to 61


business.” She gripped his arm. “Now you must come to dinner. You’ll be tired after the auction. Join us tonight.” “I really can’t. I have the children with me. Besides, what would I do with my new man?” Cooper hated the mothers in this town, which was part of the reason he didn’t come in often. Only when they really needed something. “Then tomorrow. Sunday. After church. Leave the children home with that slave woman of yours and join us.” A broad smile graced her face. He took her hand and lifted it from his arm. “I doubt I’ll be coming into town tomorrow. Too much work to do.” “Then soon. I’ll hold you to soon. I’ll have Harold discuss it with you.” She frowned and took her daughter’s arm, flouncing toward the mercantile. Sighing, he walked toward the crowd of gathering men. “Hi, Monroe. Didn’t expect to see you in town.” Harold Stewart stood with his hands shoved in his brown trouser pockets. His blue wool shirt looked new. “I need help with the new fields I’m planting.” Cooper scanned the crowd for Arnou. “Didn’t think you had the money.” Fred Hampton dusted his gray hat against his wool breeches. He looked from one man to the other. “Why would you say that?” Luke Turner folded his hands across his expansive chest, covered by a red flannel shirt. “Stevens said you were looking to sell ten acres down by the river.” “He’s talking through his hat.” Cooper didn’t need people thinking his farm was failing. He also wanted to know what plans Stevens had. He glanced over toward the one restaurant in town. White lace curtains obscured his view of the diners. How bad would his manners be if he took Becka there to eat before they went home? The rest would have to 62


picnic along side the road. He sighed. The restaurant would have to wait until another day. If more days together existed. As soon as he bought himself a new man, he’d have to ask around and see if anyone knew anything about a missing woman. The group he was with might know, but he wasn’t in a hurry to ask. He should be. He needed to get her out of his life before it was too late. If it weren’t already. Cooper watched Stevens walked into the restaurant. He wondered why since Stevens had wanted to buy another field hand, too, and the auction would be starting shortly. A man with dark hair and dressed in a fine white linen suit that made Stevens look like a country bumpkin puffed on a cigar and followed Stevens into the wood frame building. He should go talk with Stevens about the bill of sale. Someone tugged at his shirt. Arnou stood next to him. Cooper stepped to the back of the crowd. “Well?” “There’s a big man.” “Like I can afford a big man. He’ll go for top dollar.” Even discussing the buying with Arnou made his stomach lurch. Arnou gave him a smile. “Not this one. I’ll bet he can do the work of two men.” He folded his arms across his chest. “All right. What is so special we’re going to get a good price?” “Well…” Arnou looked away. “You’re not telling me something.” He knew that look. He’d seen it often enough over the years. “Something’s wrong with him.” “They’ve got him in chains. Ankles, wrists, neck.” Cooper gulped. “He could be dangerous. Hurt the women folk. Or the children.” Arnou shook his head. “I don’t think so. He has the same look you had the first time I saw you. Scared, angry. Needing someone to care.” 63


“I don’t want to care about a hired hand. I want someone to work.” “Oh, he’ll work.” “Did you talk to him?” Cooper stared at Arnou. He’d fallen for Arnou’s schemes in the past and all of them hadn’t ended well. He wouldn’t put Becka in danger. Or the rest. “That could have been dangerous.” “I tried, but he don’t seem to speak much.” “What’s your darky doing here?” Stewart moved to stand next to Cooper. He looked at Stewart a moment. What Arnou was doing wasn’t the man’s business. He forced himself to smile. “He’ll take the first one back to the wagon while I look for a second.” Stewart frowned, then nodded. “Makes sense, but he should be back by the wagons.” Arnou nudged Cooper in the ribs. He looked up on the platform. The biggest man he’d ever seen lumbered forth with two men prodding him. When he walked, chains rattled. He stared straight ahead over the top of the crowd. “Whoa!” “I told you,” Arnou whispered. “He could kill with his bare hands.” “He won’t.” “He looks too dangerous for me.” Hampton’s mouth hung open. “I don’t want to be waking up to his hands around my throat.” “Me, either.” Cooper shivered. “He’s got to be expensive.” “He’s been beat. Badly. Look. You can see on his shoulders.” Arnou nudged Cooper forward. “He’ll come cheap. Most are afraid of him.” Cooper studied the man whose shoulders slumped forward. The man seemed to stare blankly into space, but despair shone in the depths of his eyes. “What if he keels over dead tomorrow?” 64


“Ma can fix him up.” “He’ll eat so much it’ll make up for not paying much.” The look in the man’s eyes sent shivers through Cooper. He remembered when he’d arrived in Louisiana. He’d been but fifteen, and when he crawled out of the hold of the ship and onto dry land, he’d never been more thankful in his entire life. But life hadn’t improved. Chesterfield hadn’t been any nicer in the new country. He’d made Cooper’s life a living hell. This man was in the same hell. How could he not deliver him from it? How could he? He had to think of his family first. He’d already made a muck of buying Ilde. He needed to be prudent with his money and not lead with his feelings. He bent his head so his mouth was near Arnou’s ear. “If he comes home with us and he runs off, I’m not telling anyone and we aren’t going looking for him.” The auctioneer, a tall, skinny man with stringy black hair, a white shirt, tan jacket and striped tie, pounded on a podium. “Look at this fine specimen. The size of two men. Able to do the work of two. What do I have for a bid?” “He’ll kill someone,” shouted Turner. “Right,” someone in the crowd yelled. “Fifty dollars.” Cooper raised his hand and waved. “That’s an insult for such a specimen.” The auctioneer glowered at him. “The man’s half dead. How do I know he won’t be before I get home?” Cooper swallowed down the bile that threatened to choke him. “He’s not in that bad a shape.” “Looks like he could tear a man in pieces,” a man from the crowd yelled. As the rumblings continued, the auctioneer motioned for silence. When the noise settled, he spoke. “I can’t let him go for under twelve 65


hundred dollars.” A loud guffaw answered his statement. Turner elbowed Cooper. “Can’t believe you’d even take him for fifty. He’ll probably murder the whole bunch of you in your sleep.” “Yeah, then Stevens won’t have to pay for that land you’re selling.” Hampton laughed. “It isn’t for sale.” Cooper raised his hand. The auctioneer would never let him go for fifty and even though he wasn’t making a wise business deal here, he had to save the large man. “I’ll give you two hundred.” “I said twelve hundred,” the auctioneer replied. “That’s a joke,” one of the men yelled. “Sell him to Cooper for two hundred or move him off. Nobody else is willing to take a chance.” “Yeah.” Stewart pounded Cooper on the back. “Cooper’ll take him and the rest of us don’t have all day to wait. We’re getting thirsty out here in the sun.” The auctioneer’s face turned red and he blustered. “But his owner wants no less than a thousand.” “Then move him out,” a man called. The auctioneer stared at the large man on the platform. He shrugged his shoulders as the crowd got louder. Then he nodded to Cooper and the two men shoved the large man toward the stairs. He shuffled along, his gaze straight ahead. Cooper cringed as the man stumbled and nearly fell down the steps. Arnou hugged Cooper’s side as they moved with the two men prodding the large man back to the wagon. What had he done? He could have bought a decent worker for eight hundred dollars and not had to worry about being slaughtered in his sleep. “I hope Maura can do something for his back. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the likes of the beating someone gave him.” “Me either.” 66


Cooper and Arnou walked beside the man back to the wagon. Cooper waved at Maura. “My gracious.” Maura stood next to it holding Megan. Ilde sat up on the wagon seat, her hands folded in her lap. Arnou smiled at Ilde. “You get all your shopping done?” Maura nodded, walking around the man and inspecting him. “Where’s Becka?” Cooper looked around the two wagons. His heart did a flip. Had she found someone who knew her? Was she gone? Maura passed Megan up to Ilde. “She and Jacob are still shopping. She’s looking for some books she wants.” As she pulled her bright green-and-blue shawl from her shoulders, she smiled at their new worker. “I’ll fix that right up when we get home, but until then, we need to keep the sun off. This’ll help, even if it looks a might frilly for such a big man.” The large man looked at her. His face remained impassive. “I need the money.” A short man, dressed in a gray suit with his string tie loose, walked up to Cooper. Reaching into his coat pocket, Cooper pulled out his money. He counted out two hundred dollars. He had enough he could still get a decent worker with the money he had left. He expected this man would be gone before first light, but he had to rescue the man as no one had rescued him. “Take the chains off him.” The short man looked at him, his lips pursed together. “Not a good idea, Mr. Monroe. He’s dangerous.” “I’m not too worried at the moment. If he tries anything, fifty men are standing around willing to dispatch him.” Cooper had never had chains put on him, but the humiliation of the situation bore into his soul. “When you get him home, you’re going to regret not having him shackled.” The short man shoved the cash into his pocket. “My worry. I don’t see how he can work like that.” 67


“Oh, you’d be surprised. I’ve seen slaves work right fine with chains.” “I want the chains off now.” The man stepped back. “Here.” He thrust a key into Cooper’s hand. “I don’t want to be anywhere around when you turn him loose.” He nodded to the two men behind the large man and they hurried away. Cooper shook his head. “Some people.” He looked up at the man. Cooper was tall by most standards, but this man was a head taller than he was and twice as wide. He looked at Arnou. “Are you sure this was a good idea?” Arnou nodded. His gaze was glued to Ilde. Cooper shrugged and reached up for the metal collar around the man’s throat. “You’re going to have to bend down some.” The man’s shoulders slumped and he leaned down. Cooper shoved the key in the lock and jiggled it. “Damn.” Finally on the third try, the lock clicked open and the collar fell away. Cooper caught it, surprised at the weight. “My name’s Cooper. That’s Arnou and his wife Ilde.” He inclined his head toward the wagon as he unlocked the bands holding the chains to the man’s hands. “Maura’s the one who gave you her shawl. She takes care of the lot of us.” Cooper hunkered down and jiggled the key in the ankle lock that wouldn’t come loose. “The baby’s Megan. What’s your name?” He looked up at the man, but got no response. He shoved the key in the final lock and tried to turn it. “Stupid things,” he grumbled. “Pa! Pa! Miss Becka. He got Miss Becka.” Joshua’s voice slammed against him. Cooper froze. His heart stopped beating, then thudded. “Pa! Pa!” Arnou knocked against him. Cooper rose and turned. Jacob stood in the middle of the street, jumping from one foot to the other. “Pa! He’s 68


got Miss Becka. Help, Pa!”

69


CHAPTER 6

“Get to the wagon.” Cooper shoved Jacob as he ran past, catching up with Arnou. They raced into the alleyway between the wood frame hotel and another store. Cooper stopped, not seeing Becka. He listened, trying to hear over the thundering of his heart. Arnou stopped at the end of the alley that forked in two directions. He paused. “Don’t see her.” “Au secours! Au secours!” The muffled scream echoed along the close built walls. Cooper shot past Arnou down the right fork. Only Becka would call in French. Every time she was scared, she lapsed into the language. He turned another corner and saw her. Becka struggled against a large man with a shaggy gray beard and long, unkempt hair. “Stop,” he screamed. The man turned, a knife in his right hand. “Stay back.” The man brandished the knife. 70


Cooper stopped, Arnou at his side. He took in a slow breath. “Let her go.” The man shook his head. The end of the alley widened and the man pulled Becka toward the open spot that led to the other street. Cooper inclined his head and Arnou moved to block the man. Cooper clenched his fist. He had to get her free without getting her hurt. “Let her go and we’ll forget this ever happened.” Not that he had any intention of letting the man go. He had every intention of turning him over to the sheriff. “Not hardly.” The man’s gaze darted between Cooper and Arnou. “You call off your darky and I won’t hurt her.” Cooper inched toward the man. Becka stared at him with large eyes, begging for help. “It’ll be fine, Becka. It’ll be fine.” He couldn’t let anything happen to her. He’d promised to return her to her family and he intended to honor that promise. The man pressed the knife to Becka’s neck. “Back off. I found her first.” Hands hanging loosely at his sides, Arnou edged farther into the alleyway, away from the walls. He nodded to Cooper. Knowing Arnou was ready to attack, Cooper edged around the other side of the man. “I found her days ago.” The man relaxed his grip on Becka, the knife moving from her throat. He looked at Cooper, then at Arnou, then back to Cooper. “You should’ve turned her in while you had a chance. Now I have her.” “I want her back.” Cooper took a step closer, appraising every movement the man made, ready to react to any threat. The man tightened his grip on Becka, but let the knife drift further from her neck. “We could split the money.” He looked at Cooper. “After all, I got her now. I’ll give you three hundred. That’d be fair.” Cooper nodded. “We could talk about it. Why don’t I buy you a 71


drink while we discuss it?” He wanted to keep the man’s gaze on him. While Cooper talked, Arnou slid closer to the man. “I’m a might thirsty.” He shifted Becka against his body as though he was having trouble holding on to her. “We gots to tie her up somewheres.” “My darky can watch her while we get a drink.” Cooper flexed his fingers. The man took a quick look at Arnou, frozen in place. “I don’t rightly trust you or him.” The man inclined his head toward Arnou. “Maybe we better forget the drink and take care of business.” Cooper nodded to Arnou. They had to get Becka now. “Becka, drop.” He sprang forward, hoping Becka would get out of his way. He didn’t want to strike her by accident. “Hey!” the man yelled as Arnou grabbed his knife hand and twisted. Cooper leapt forward and slammed his fist into the man’s face, snapping his head backward. The man fell and Becka lurched forward onto the ground. Cooper pulled her up into his arms, his heart skipping several beats. “Are you all right?” Even though she was covered with dust, he didn’t see any marks on her. Wrapping her arms around him, she hiccupped and nodded into his chest. He pushed her back and looked into her eyes. Tears filled them. “It’ll be fine now.” He hugged her. For a moment, he’d thought he’d lost her. “I feared he would hurt you.” He pulled her closer and kissed her, long and hungry as though he were dying of thirst and only she could save him. Her arms went around his neck and she clung to him. He ran his hands down her back, holding her, keeping her in his life for a few more moments. He pressed her to him, feeling her body, assuring 72


himself she was all right. He needed her touch so his heart would beat normally again. He wanted her in his arms always. The fear that he’d lost her slid away as he kissed her again, claiming her. Feeling her need for him. Pressing his need against her. “Ahem,” Arnou said. Cooper broke the kiss and tucked Becka’s head under his chin. He grinned at Arnou, knowing his face had probably turned red. Arnou shook his head. “The man got away.” “What?” Cooper continued to hug Becka, not wanting to release her for fear she’d vanish as quickly as she’d appeared. “How’d that happen?” “He took off while you were hugging Miss Becka and I was watching.” Arnou gave them a crooked smile. “By the time I noticed, he’d disappeared and I wasn’t gonna go after him.” “That wouldn’t have been safe.” Cooper tilted his hat back. “Damn. I wanted to know what he was talking about.” “You hit him pretty hard.” Arnou smiled at Cooper. “If you go asking around, I’ll bet you find him.” The man had talked crazy, and Cooper needed to know what he’d meant. Becka was in danger. He felt it in the pit of his stomach. He looked at her. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she trembled. She had been right about not going to the riverboat landing. Did she know more than she was saying? No. She’d never have gone shopping with Jacob and put the child in danger. “Have we ever seen him before?” “I haven’t.” Arnou looked both ways down the alley. “What’re we gonna do?” “Nothing for now.” Cooper wanted to make sure Becka was safe. That was his primary concern. “Damn.” He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll take Becka back to the wagon.” “Thank you.” 73


He swept her up into his arms. “No thanks necessary.” *

*

*

“I can walk.” She laid her head against his shoulder. Her knight in shining armor. He always seemed to appear when she needed him. When the man had grabbed her and dragged her into the alley, she knew she was going to die. It had been clearer than when she’d fought the water for her life. “Probably, but I’m going to make sure you get back without mishap.” He smiled at her. She clung to him, wanting his arms to stay around her. She kissed the side of his neck, then settled her head back on his shoulder. She let the need of him flow through her as his chest pressed against her body. His arms held her securely and she let everything but the need flow away. “Aw, he’s just using it as an excuse to hold you.” Arnou’s eyes sparkled. Cooper glared at Arnou. “I only want to make sure she’s safe.” “Yep.” Arnou nodded his head. “Yep. That’s all.” “That’s right.” Cooper nodded his head to Arnou. He smiled back and fell into step beside them. They rounded the corner back onto the street. Maura and Jacob waited for them. “Oh, Pa, you saved her.” Jacob put his hand on her arm. Becka patted Jacob on the head. “Once more.” “Of course your pa saved her.” Maura pursed her lips. “Are you hurt?” “She’s fine, Ma. Cooper just wants to hold her.” Arnou wrapped his arm around Maura’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” She turned her face into Cooper’s chest, not wanting Maura to see the reddening in her checks. Maura smiled. “My boys did fine.” She looked back toward the 74


alley. “Where’s the man?” “He got away.” Arnou steered his mother toward the wagon. “At least you’re all safe.” Maura clucked under her breath. “It seems as though protecting me is becoming a full time occupation for you.” She wrapped her arm around Cooper’s neck. A pleasant feeling swept over her. Warm. Secure. Fluttery. She snuggled her head against him, listening to his heart beat. She smiled. Her family. They protected her, fussed over her, risked their lives for her. Maybe falling in the river had been the luckiest day in her life. She looked toward the wagon where Ilde sat on the seat holding Megan as the child bounced. The biggest black man she’d ever seen stood next to the wagon, Maura’s blue-and-green shawl tied around his neck. Little bits of fringe decorated his massive chest. Megan giggled, grabbed the man’s finger and pulled it to her mouth. After tasting him, she giggled and jumped up and down again. Ilde looked as though she struggled not to drop the child. The man stood like a statue, smiling at the child. “Oh, my God, who is that?” Cooper groaned. “He was Arnou’s idea.” “He looks ridiculous.” She laughed. It welled up in her from way down inside and poured forth in an uncontrolled gush. “It’s not that funny.” Maura put her hands on her hips. “He needed his wounds covered.” “That shawl is hardly big enough to cover anything on that man.” She turned her head. “He is going home with us?” “Yep. I paid for the right. Though I think Arnou was crazy to talk me into it.” Cooper shivered as he held her. “We’ll probably all be dead tomorrow.” He chuckled. “’Course then, we won’t have to worry about any of our other problems.” Cooper set her on the end of the wagon. 75


“I’ll ’tend to Becka. Coop, you and Arnou go back to the auction.” Maura gave Megan a kiss on the cheek. Cooper shook his head. “We’ve all had enough of town. I want to get Becka home where she’ll be safe.” “That’s best.” Maura climbed in the wagon and pulled a blanket from the front. “Scoot up here and lay down.” “I do not need to rest. I can sit up.” She smiled at Maura and scooted back. “Of course you need to rest, Becka. You were nearly killed.” Maura spread the blanket on the wagon bed, then pulled out another blanket and folded it for her to rest her head. Arguing with Maura would be useless, so she laid down. Maura dug through the purchases from the mercantile. “Here it is.” Maura opened a parasol. “Don’t want the sun shining in your eyes. Now you lay back and rest while Cooper drives you home.” Jacob crawled up beside her. “I was so scared.” She pulled him into the crook of her arm and hugged him. “So was I, darling. So was I.” Now she felt safe holding the child. Safe among this family. A family that belonged to her for a moment. *

*

*

Jacques followed Stevens into the restaurant and sat across a small, round table from him. The odor from his cigar helped to block out the smell of livestock that seemed to permeate everything in this town. He placed his cigar in an ashtray and brushed at a spot on the white tablecloth. He grimaced. In New Orleans, he would never eat in such a place, but here he had no choice. He stared at the man. He didn’t like doing business with the likes of him. Stevens thought he could maneuver Jacques into doing what he wanted. Better men than Stevens had tried to best him in business. None of them were doing business with anyone anymore. 76


The waitress, a mousy, blond woman with a dirty white apron tied around her waist, appeared at his elbow. “A bottle of your best wine and two glasses.” Jacques preferred doing business over a drink. Besides, this poor excuse of a town might look better after a few glasses of wine. He leaned forward, careful not to brush his coat sleeves against the tablecloth. He wasn’t sure what was on it, but he didn’t want it on him. “You should’ve been honest with me in the beginning.” He smiled at Stevens. “I don’t do business with liars.” Stevens smiled and fiddled with the edge of his napkin. “I didn’t lie.” “You don’t own the land.” Stevens glanced around the room. White lace curtains fluttered in the breeze. A dozen tables were set around the room, and several of them had ladies seated at them enjoying tea. Their men folk were outside at the auction. “I will.” Stevens looked out the window. The waitress set the wine bottle on the table. “Do you want anything else?” Jacques looked at her. Her face was too angular to please him. “Not right now.” He poured the wine and took a sip, nearly gagging on it. With swill like this, no wonder the women were drinking tea. He held his hand up to the waitress. “Bring some coffee.” He turned back to study Stevens. The man was fidgeting with his tie. “How will you own the land when you don’t now?” “I’m in the process of acquiring it.” Stevens poured himself a glass of wine and took a drink. “Fine wine.” He drained his glass and refilled it. “Enjoy it.” Jacques stifled a rising sigh. When had this entire business deal become so fraught with difficulties? The moment Genevieve hit the water. 77


He gazed out the window and watched the milling men. A commotion started as a huge man was forced up on the platform. He couldn’t tell what the crowd shouted, but he could hear a blur of voices. He gazed at the man for a moment. A giant like that could have his purposes, but he didn’t need anyone. He had Phillippe. “How do you plan to get the land?” His stomach grumbled. Jacques hadn’t eaten since early this morning when he’d left the Lady Belle and ridden a horse inland. The waitress set a cup of coffee in front of him. He stared at it, afraid to taste it. “Bring me a steak and mashed potatoes.” They couldn’t destroy something that simple, he hoped. “I’ll take the fried chicken.” Stevens smiled at the waitress. Jacques took a sip of his coffee. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t too bad. He stirred some sugar into it. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I’ve got it arranged. Monroe will be begging me to take the land off his hands.” Stevens smiled as he filled his glass with wine. “You should have some. It’s right fine.” Jacques shook his head. Maybe he should forget his plan to build a riverboat landing at the mouth of the White River. The next one was twenty miles upriver and didn’t have much in the way of accommodations. The one ten miles down river was nicer, but on the opposite side of the Mississippi. He liked the restaurant there. He wished he was eating there now. They made crawfish stew that melted on his tongue. That was the riverboat landing where he taken Genevieve for dinner. The landing where that couple had come aboard and sailed up river with them. The ones who knew her. Damn. “I need the land.” He smiled over his coffee. “I’ll go to Monroe and offer to buy it from him.” Steven blanched. “Give me two weeks. I’ll have it by then.” He set 78


his glass down, his hand shaking. “I’m sure Monroe will come to me before the day’s over.” He wondered what Stevens was up to, but only for a moment. He had problems of his own. “I can probably make a better deal with Monroe. Why should I wait?” He’d offered Stevens a percentage in the profit from the new riverboat landing, thinking the man owned the land. Of course, the man who had given him that information no longer worked for him. If Jacques had gone to Monroe in the first place, he’d have the land already. Getting the land wasn’t the biggest problem he had. His gut told him it was time to walk away from this venture. It had gone sour. Every cent he had available was tied up in it. He’d offered on two new riverboats to ship farm goods from this area and he could get the crops for a decent price because the farmers wouldn’t have to haul them as far and wouldn’t sell to a broker. The landing would be a gold mine. A legitimate gold mine. For those who wished to escape the city and wanted somewhere nice to stay while they relaxed, he had plans for a fancy hotel and restaurant. A saloon with a few gaming tables would make it perfect. His town. None of it would happen if he didn’t find Genevieve and that damn necklace. He leaned back as the waitress set the food in front of him. The steak seemed a bit burned, but the potatoes looked edible. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it over the tines of his fork. After putting the handkerchief away, he took a bite. “But I have a way to pry the land from Monroe, even though he doesn’t want to part with it. I’ll have it by then.” Stevens poured himself more wine, sweat beading on his forehead. “If not, I’ll deal directly with Monroe.” Jacques set his fork down. He doubted any plan Stevens had would work, but he needed the time 79


himself. “I don’t need you.” “You don’t want to work with Monroe. He knows nothing about business. He hasn’t much of a farm and won’t be interested in a deal like you’re offering.” “Then maybe I should go to him now. I can buy the land and be done with it. I won’t have to share the profits with him.” If he had the cash, he would. He hoped Genevieve and the necklace would reappear in the next fortnight. If not, he didn’t know what he would do. Damn Rawlings for not telling him about his second daughter. Damn Rawlings for everything he’d done to him. He pushed back his chair. He wanted to be back aboard the Lady Belle where he could enjoy a good glass of wine. Or better yet, whiskey. “I shall return in two weeks. I expect everything to be order by then.” He dropped a couple of coins on the table and walked out into the sunshine. Two slaves stood on the platform and the auctioneer’s voice blended in with the shouts from the crowd of men. The large man had disappeared. He mounted his horse and rode down the street. This would be the closest town to his new riverboat landing. No one would want to stay here. He stopped his horse and looked back at the auction. He could hold those in his new town. People would be happy to spend their money in his restaurant without all this dust, but he’d have to find a way to keep the livestock smell out of town. He’d build the pens down wind. He turned and nudged his horse forward. A woman smiled at him and he nodded. He scanned the street. If Genevieve had washed ashore, this would be a likely place for her to surface. The large black man stood next to a wagon playing with a white baby girl. He laughed to himself. Who would have thought such a giant 80


would be so gentle with the tiny bit of a thing. A black woman knelt in the back of the wagon, holding a parasol over another woman. He laughed a dark laugh. She’d probably swooned at the sight of the giant. Most women didn’t have much gumption. Too bad he’d been enamored with one with more gumption than most men he knew. He rode by the wagon and headed back to the riverboat landing.

81


CHAPTER 7

The fog swirled around her and she shivered. So much coldness. It permeated everything. She wanted to pull her coat around her to ward off the cold, but it evaporated in her fingers. Instead, she was dressed in a gold gown. The floor beneath her tilted and she stood on the deck of a boat. A man with dark hair and icy blue eyes came toward her. He laughed, an eerie sound that echoed around her, as he reached out his hand and said something, but she couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was the laughter. “Attention, ma soeur.” She jumped and turned to see from where the voice had come, but all about her was fog, obscuring her vision. She looked at the man. He puffed on a cigar and the smoke blended with the fog. “Beware, sister.” She looked around, but saw no one. The voice was definitely a 82


woman’s. Crying swirled around her, mixing with the laughter. Her arms felt heavy. She looked down and she held a wailing baby. “Shh.” She rocked the infant, but it wouldn’t stop crying. Cuddling it, she pressed her cheek against its head. The baby stopped crying, but the laughter grew. She glanced up. The man moved toward her, his arms outstretched. “Sister, beware,” the voice screamed. Jumping, she stumbled backward. The man kept coming. The baby wailed. He grabbed for it, his fingers touching the blanket. “I will have it,” he hissed, his face twisting into a glower. Clutching the baby to her, she took another step back. She wouldn’t let the man have it. She wouldn’t let him hurt it. Leaping at her, he grabbed the bundle and wrenched it from her arms. He held it up, threatening to throw it from the boat. The sound of the waves lapping the side of the boat mixed with the splash of the large paddle wheel. The man’s laughing and the babe’s wailing swirled around her, mixing with the fog. “Attention, ma soeur!” The voice floated to her, but she didn’t turn to see from where it came. The man would hurt the infant. She lunged toward him, her feet slipping on the wet deck and she lost her balance. The man held the bundle out of her reach. She tried to steady herself, but her slippers slid, and she grabbed for the railing with one hand. With the other, she grabbed for the baby. He backed away, still holding the bundle above his head. “Non,” she screamed. “Non.” She pushed away from the railing and ran at the man. He stepped aside. She slid into the railing and flipped over it. The cold water slammed into her, knocking the breath from her. She struggled upward, kicking, her feet tangling in her skirts. She had to reach the surface. She had to save the baby. Popping up, she gasped in air. The boat sailed past her. The man 83


held the baby, then dropped it into the water. “Nooooon,” she screamed. The small bundle sank. She swam toward it. “Non.” She couldn’t reach it. The fog closed in on her. She had to find it. She struggled against her skirts and the water. Something grabbed and shook her. She tried to wrench away. “Non,” she screamed. “Le bébé! Le bébé!” “Becka, wake up.” The male voice swirled into the fog. “Le bébé! I have to save the baby.” “Becka.” Someone continued to shake her. She couldn’t see anything, but she tried to push away the invisible hands holding her. “Becka, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” She shivered, then blinked. The fog receded. A terrible sadness descended upon her. The baby was lost. She was lost. The hands on her shoulders felt like the only warmth in a cold world. She touched them. Solid hands. Warm hands. She sighed. “Becka, please.” She reached out to the voice. It would save her. Blinking again, she saw the soft glow of a candle. Where was she? Where had the water gone? “Becka, are you awake?” She gasped. Cooper sat, bare-chested, on the edge of her bed. She hiccuped. Then nodded. As he pulled her close, he stroked her hair. “You were having another nightmare. In French.” She shivered and nestled into him. His arms about her made the fear slide away. “It was awful. A man took a baby away from me and threw it in the water. A woman I couldn’t see kept yelling, ‘Sister, beware.’” “I’m sorry.” He hugged her tighter. 84


“For what? You cannot control my dreams.” Neither could she. She feared going to sleep because the fog and the voices might return. “After what happened in town today, you’re bound to have nightmares.” He rubbed her back in long, lingering strokes. “And I’m sure this disaster with Arnou hasn’t helped.” “Maybe.” She snuggled against him, trying to get warm. His chest was hard and emanated heat that seeped into her and through her. “There has never been a baby before.” She pushed back. “I hope I didn’t scare the children.” “Megan screams, and Joshua goes and rocks her. He understands. He has bad dreams sometimes.” He stroked the hair away from her neck. She trembled, but this time not from fear. She liked the feel of his fingers against her. “But I hate waking them. My screams scare them.” “Scare me, too.” He chuckled and picked up a board from the floor. “I thought that new man might’ve broken in.” She giggled, her heart pounding at the thought he would risk his life for her. “You were going to stop him with that?” “Yep. It would at least have gotten his attention and you could’ve run while he crushed me like a bug.” “Pleasant thought.” “It was the best I could do being suddenly awakened.” He grimaced and brushed the hair from her face. “That man scares me.” “Then why did you buy him?” She leaned her face into his hand, savoring his touch. Cooper stroked her face with his thumb. “Arnou. I let him talk me into it.” The cold had been replaced by a heat that infused her whole body. “He talks you into many things.” He nuzzled her neck. “Some of them good. Some of them bad. He’s gotten me into trouble more than once over the years.” 85


She sucked in her breath. “You seem more like brothers than master and servant.” Her insides heated. Lifting her chin, he looked into her eyes. “We’ve never been master and servant. Not from the first moment we met.” “When was that?” She missed the contact with him. Pain flashed through his eyes. “Fifteen years ago. He was a child and I scared him.” He sighed. “Maura took me in. I’d never have survived if not for her.” “So you owe him and you let him talk you into buying the giant.” She could see the love among Cooper, Arnou and Maura; a love that encompassed everyone around them. She touched the side of his face. His skin was warm as though still heated by the sun and baked brown. As was his chest. The hair on his chest was soft when she put her hand against it. “It had nothing to do with owing.” Cooper pulled her close again. “Sometimes I don’t think either of us has the sense God gave an earthworm.” He sighed into her hair. “Arnou said the look in the man’s eyes reminded him of me when we first met, and we couldn’t leave him to his fate. I doubt he’ll stick around. I kinda hope not.” He kissed her beneath the ear. Shivers rushed through her and she leaned her head away from him as he explored her neck. Her skin tingled where his lips touched it. She ran her hand up his bare back, feeling the muscles. Feeling the scars. “I do not understand you. You needed someone to help in the fields and slaves cost dearly, so the two of you spent your money on a man who needed rescuing, putting his welfare ahead of your own. And you need him.” “Not if he’s going to murder us in our beds.” He tangled his hand in her hair. “Then why did not you just let him off somewhere?” She wanted to kiss him again, but dressed only in her nightdress, thinking of the 86


results made her tremble. What if she belonged to another man? “I own him. Alone, he’d be in danger. Somebody might shoot him.” He nibbled her shoulder at the edge of her gown. “I couldn’t abandon him. If he was found dead, I’d feel guilty.” He gave her a boyish grin. “But if he runs off, I’m not responsible for him anymore. And no one can make me go after him.” “Cooper Monroe, you are a strange man. You take in strays and care for them without asking for anything in return, even when you think you might be in danger.” Her heart warmed to him and she stroked the side of his face. “Do you have any idea why that guy grabbed you this afternoon?” He blew into her ear. She shivered. “None. He did not say two words to me.” A tingle ran through her. She traced her finger across his lips, remembering the feel of them against hers. The softness of his mustache caressed her fingers and she stroked it. “You need to stay with one of us from now on.” Cooper rubbed the back of her neck. “This time of year some very unsavory characters hang around looking for work.” She lowered her head, arching her neck into his hand. “I shall be more careful,” she murmured, her insides turning liquid. “You’re all right now?” “I think so.” She wanted him to continue to hold her, to make her feel alive and safe, but she’d disrupted his sleep as well as the children’s. “I could warm some milk for you.” She didn’t need to keep him with her any longer. “Just sit a moment. I shall be fine.” She wanted to make the moment last in case it was the last such one they had. “Think of something happy.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you have a suggestion? I do not seem to have any happy 87


memories of my own.” None but those she was making now. She trailed her fingers down his chest. He sucked in his breath. “I can think of one from earlier this week.” The heat crept up her face. “I am not sure that is a proper memory of which to think.” But one of her most pleasant. He laughed and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “It’s stuck in my memory.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe I was so forward. What you must think of me?” For the kiss. For letting him touch her while she sat in her bed. “I didn’t think anything.” He grinned. She should crawl under the bedclothes and hide. She had been forward that afternoon, and now she sat next to him in bed while she wore nothing but a nightdress and he nothing but his underdrawers. This was definitely not proper, but she didn’t want him to leave. He lifted her chin. “I found your actions very charming.” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you used to young ladies throwing themselves at you?” “Heavens, no. You’re the first.” He grinned, his face reddening. “But I rather liked it.” She reached for the covers, glancing away. “I am feeling much better now. I believe I can go back to sleep.” “Are you sure?” He ran his fingers down the side of her neck. She trembled. Would she be able to face him in the morning? He took her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her tight. She let her arms hang for a moment, then slipped them around his neck. She’d worry about the morning when the sun came up. Right now, all she could do was feel his kiss. His tongue begged entrance to her mouth and she parted her lips, 88


letting his tongue dance with hers. Even though he slid away the covers, the room seemed very warm. Still holding her mouth with his, he turned her slightly and ran his hand down the front of her nightdress, stopping to cup her breast. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her breast against his hand. His fingers teased her nipple through the fine material and an ache built within her. She gripped his shoulder, hanging onto him as he continued to rub her nipple. The longing grew and she wanted him to touch her more. He broke the kiss and lowered his head, taking her nipple into his mouth, material and all. She gasped and arched her head backward. He peeked up at her, still holding her nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking back and forth. He inched up her nightdress, letting his fingers float across the skin of her legs. A moan escaped her. He continued to flick her nipple with his tongue as his hand found the apex of her legs. He eased them apart, his arm supporting her while she melted. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the top of her legs, then quickly pushed his fingers between them. She gasped, not being able to draw in enough breath. She thought she would die if he didn’t stop. She didn’t want him to stop. She knew she’d never felt this way before. She kissed the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him. His fingers continued to move between her legs and the ache grew with each touch. “Do not stop,” she whispered. He released her breast and she groaned, wanting him to take it back into his mouth. “I won’t.” He laid her back and trailed kisses across her breasts and down her stomach. He pulled the fabric up so his mouth touched her skin. She buried her fingers in his hair, holding onto him. He slid the material up farther and kissed her breasts around the edges, letting his 89


mustache tickle her nipples. “You are so beautiful,” he said as he kissed between her breasts. She wanted him to continue. She wanted him to touch her in the intimate way he had been. She wanted to touch him, but was uncertain of how. Reaching out, she ran her fingers down his arm. He shivered beneath her. He knelt on the bed and kissed her stomach, then downward, until he reached the hair between her legs. He stopped and rubbed his chin against her. She groaned. He spread her legs wider and ran his tongue across her. She grabbed for his head. Heat jolted through her, but this didn’t seem proper. “I won’t hurt you, Becka.” His breath kissed her and she squirmed against him. She needed him to touch her again. She tried to pull him away. She tossed her head back and forth. He slipped a finger inside of her and she arched her back, lifting her hips from the bed. “Oh, yes,” he murmured. He slipped the finger in and out and blew softly against her. All she could feel was the need, the ache building in her. If he stopped, she would die. She wanted him to keep touching her, and not just his breath. She wanted his finger to move faster. He placed another finger inside her, then touched her with his tongue. She cried out as her insides contracted, then waves of ecstasy washed over her. She gripped his head as his tongue and fingers moved against her. She didn’t breath. The waves became less and he pulled her to him. She could feel his desire pressed against her. She ran her fingers down his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her pressed against his chest. He rested his lips against her hair. “Come to me,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t.” 90


She wedged her hand between them and brushed her palm against him. “I want you.” He groaned. She continued to stroke him. His chest muscles contracted and his body stiffened. “Please, Cooper.” She took his shaft into her hand. He rolled her on her back and knelt over her, pulling her nightdress out of the way. She opened her legs, inviting him into her. He lowered himself, entering her slowly. He pushed in, giving her time to adjust to him. She gripped his shoulders and pushed upward. “Slowly, darlin’. Slowly.” He eased himself into her part way and pulled back out. She put her legs around him and lifted her hips. He entered her again slowly, then stopped. He held her for several seconds. She ran her hands up and down his back. She tried to raise her hips against him, but he pinned her in place. Slowly, he pushed into her. A pain shot through her and she cried out as she buried her face against his chest. He wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry.” He stroked her back. “So sorry.” She held onto him, panting, as the pain was replaced by the feel of him within her. She tried to move against him. “Cooper?” “I shouldn’t have.” He moved to pull away, but she held him with her legs. The ache returned and she wanted him to make it go away. She wanted to feel the waves rush through her again. She wanted him. She moved her hips encouraging him to move. “The pain is gone.” He nodded. He touched her leg and tried to push it down. “Non.” She nibbled at his lip. “Non.” He moved again, slowly, in, then out. She gripped him, letting the ache build. She licked at his neck and ran her hands up and down his back. She matched his rhythm until there was nothing but the 91


movement of the two of them. The waves built and she could feel them about to overwhelm her. Cooper raised his head and groaned, shuddering. She wrapped her legs tighter around him and hung on. After a few moments, he rolled to the side and pulled her with him. He sighed. She snuggled against him. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She traced a finger along his jaw line. “I do not care. I wanted to be held in your arms. I shall not regret what we have done.” She might belong somewhere else, but she knew she’d never felt like this before. And she would build memories to fight the nightmares. “You might.” He sighed and tucked her head under his chin. “Why?” She snuggled closer, her eyes drifting close. “Because you had never been with a man before.”

92


CHAPTER 8

She picked up the coffeepot with a towel, and poured Arnou and Cooper each a cup. A flush ran through her as she remembered the previous night. She stared at his hands, remembering their touch. “Thanks, Becka.” Cooper grinned at her. “You are welcome.” She turned away before she blushed and filled her cup. She brushed her fingers against her lips and hoped the others couldn’t tell what she and Cooper had done. Not that she was sorry, but she didn’t want them thinking poorly of her because of her actions. While Maura continued flipping flapjacks, Ilde placed a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon strips on the table, and sat next to Arnou. Cooper filled Jacob’s plate, then his own, passing the plate to Arnou who served Ilde and himself. The large man stood by the door of the kitchen, watching. Becka thought he seemed overwhelmed by the love flowing in the room. She 93


smiled at him. The first night, when she had stood in that door, she had felt the love and it had scared her. But now it made her want to be part of it. Cooper waved his fork at the large man. He seemed in fine spirits this morning despite the problem with the bill of sale from Stevens. “Sit down and eat. We’ve got lots of work to do today.” Maura turned, her spatula in hand, and waved at him. “Sit down. A fella your size gots to eat a powerful lot.” She picked up the plate of flapjacks from the stove and set it on the table. Jacob forked two before she got her hand away. Maura laughed. “I made extra.” The large man stared at them, not moving. “Come while the coffee is hot.” Becka filled his cup. “Maura is a wonderful cook.” “Can I have coffee?” Jacob reached for the butter and slathered it on his flapjacks. “You’re not old enough.” Cooper took the platter from Arnou. “Aw, Pa.” She splashed a bit into his tin cup of milk. “A tiny bit will not hurt him.” “Becka!” Cooper frowned for a moment, then winked and smiled at her. Jacob’s face lit up. She set the pot on the stove and sat next to Jacob. “Thanks, Miss Becka.” “You are welcome, sir.” She glanced over at the large man standing against the wall. He still had Maura’s shawl tied around his shoulders. His bare midriff showed above brown wool pants that hung in tatters below the knees. Maura walked over and took his hand. “Come before the victuals get cold.” She gave a tug. He didn’t move. He watched each person in turn as if trying to 94


absorb the sight of black and white sitting at the table sharing food and talk. She smiled at him, but he stood like a statue. He would have to be coaxed as she had been. “Sit.” She reached across Jacob and patted the empty chair. Maura tugged harder. “Sit. Now.” She used the same voice she did on the children when they weren’t minding her. “Don’t be thinking I’m gonna fix you victuals separate from the rest. I got me enough work to do around here.” He blinked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He took three slow steps and sat in the empty chair next to Jacob. Megan squealed as he sat and banged on the table from her highchair. Maura scooped food onto his plate and shoved the butter and syrup in front of him. Megan grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate, flashed him a smile, and crammed it into her mouth. “Megan,” scolded Maura. “Don’t you be takin’ food from someone else’s plate.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” The large man smiled at Megan, picked up his fork and shoved food into his mouth. He ate as though he hadn’t seen food in days. Becka poured syrup over her hotcakes and watched Cooper from beneath lowered lashes. He kept a wary gaze on the man and spilled eggs in his lap. She giggled and grabbed her coffee cup, pretending to drink. He patted her knee under the table. “Arnou, are you going to plant those ten acres?” “We got rice seed.” Arnou reached for more eggs. “I figure we could build some troughs to start it growing.” Cooper continued to stare at the large man. “You think we still got time to get a crop in?” “Should.” Arnou took a sip of coffee, then waved his hand in the air. “I talked to a couple of men yesterday before all the commotion. If 95


we get it planted in six weeks, it should be ripe before the weather turns cold.” “And how are we going to get the rest of the soybeans planted and build boxes to raise seedlings at the same time?” Cooper got up retrieved the coffeepot from the stove. As he refilled her cup, Becka smiled at him. She wanted to touch his face. What she really wanted was to kiss him again. “Ilde and I could help.” Ilde inched closer to Arnou. “I planted plenty seeds.” Cooper sat and picked up a piece of bacon. “I won’t have any womenfolk working in the fields.” Maura shook her head before grabbing Megan’s hand as she reached for another piece of bacon off the large man’s plate. “Women can plant as good as men.” “That is correct.” Becka looked him square in the eyes. “We can earn our keep around here.” She giggled. “We have to do something. In the house we just get in Maura’s way.” “I could help too, Pa. After I finish with the chickens.” She patted Jacob’s small hand. “Ilde and I shall help you with the chickens, then we can all help with the planting.” She looked at Cooper than Arnou. They both had a stubborn set to their mouths. “Ilde can teach us.” Cooper took her hand. “You’ve never done a day’s work in your life. You won’t last an hour out there in the sun, stooping and bending.” “I shall.” She lifted her chin. She would contribute. As long as they let her stay here. “And I’m big enough.” Jacob sat as straight as he could. “You can help Maura.” Cooper stared at her. “I’m gonna spend most of the day sewing.” Maura nodded her head toward the big man. “He’s got to have a shirt and a decent pair of trousers. I can’t be teaching the women how to cook while I’m busy. 96


Megan will keep me busy enough.” Ilde played with her fork. “I been planting for years. I can shows ya.” Becka inclined her head to Ilde. “That would be very nice.” “I won’t have my wife being a field worker.” Arnou set his cup down with a bang. “She’s a farmer’s wife.” Maura tried to get Megan to take a bite of eggs. The child clamped her mouth together and shook her head. The large man took the spoon from Maura and offered it to Megan. She giggled, patted his arm and the eggs fell from the spoon. He scooped up more and offered them to her. She opened her mouth, then clamped her teeth on the spoon. He smiled at her and she released it. Maura shook her head. “I never seen the like.” Cooper banged his cup on the table. “I won’t hear—” “Coop, hush up.” Maura shot him a glance that would freeze a black bear in his tracks. “This is a workin’ farm. Miss Ellen would never have tolerated such nonsense. She worked from sun up to sun down without a complaint.” Cooper glared. “That’s what killed her.” “No, Coop. The fever killed her.” Maura stood and began to make more flapjacks. “They want to help.” “But…” Cooper looked from Maura to her and finally shrugged. “You won’t last the morning.” “I will.” Jacob watched Maura. “Can I have another flapjack, please?” Maura flipped one onto his plate and three more onto the large man’s plate. Jacob chewed for a moment, then touched the large man’s hand. “You got a name we can call you? I thought everyone had a name, but she—” He pointed to Becka. “—she can’t remember her name ’cuz she bumped her head when she fell in the river and most nearly drowned. 97


But Pa gave her a name—Miss Becka.” He smiled at the large man. “If you don’t have a name or forgot yours ’cuz you bumped your head, Pa’ll give you a name so’s we can call you by it.” Becka giggled. The child’s logic seemed flawless to her. They needed to know what the large man’s name was, but he hadn’t spoken a word since Cooper had bought him. Jacob stared at the large man for a moment, then shrugged and went back to his flapjack. She stood and picked up her plate and Cooper’s, brushing her fingers across his. “Ilde and I shall do the dishes, then help Jacob with the eggs.” She flashed Cooper a smile. “Then we shall join you men in the fields. We definitely need Maura to spend her time sewing.” She looked over to Maura. “Of course, if you want one of us to help with Megan, we could do that.” Maura smiled at her. “I can sew and tend her.” Arnou handed his plate to Ilde as she stood. “That’s good, Ma. He’s got to have a shirt.” “We’ll be the laughing stock if anybody comes by and he’s wearing the shawl in the fields.” Cooper leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “None of your shirts will fit the man.” Maura held up her coffee cup and Ilde filled it. “Thank you.” Jacob climbed down from his chair and leaned against Cooper. “I’m glad you’re gonna let me work in the fields. I’m nearly grown.” “You’re hardly grown at all. And you can only work until dinner. This afternoon, you’ll stay with Maura and entertain your sister.” “But, Pa, she takes a nap.” Cooper narrowed his eyes. “Can I show him the chickens?” Jacob inclined his head toward the large man. “No. Arnou and I’ll show him later.” 98


“Aw, Pa.” “Don’t aw me.” Jacob’s bottom lip curled outward. “Sam,” the large man said. They all stared at him. His bass voice resonated through the room, filling it the way his body did. A smile crept across his face and he nodded. “They call me Sam.” *

*

*

Cooper watched the women and Jacob work as the sun inched across the sky. Ilde had shown Becka how to tie her skirts up out of the way. She stayed with Becka and Jacob, helping them and showing them the proper way to plant the seeds. Becka looked as though she would drop at any moment, sweat pouring down her face. The back of her dress was soaked. Every few steps, she paused, put her hands to her waist and arched her back. She held her mouth in a tight line. He wanted to tell her to quit and return to the house. Even from this distance, he could see her breasts press against her dress as she arched her back. He wiped his brow. The sun bore down on them, but the heat in him came from watching her. He could still feel her skin pressed against him and his body ached to hold her again. He bent and shoved a seed into the ground before Arnou noticed his thoughts. Half an hour earlier when he’d passed Becka, he’d told her she could take a break, but she shook her head. By dinner, she wouldn’t be able to move and he didn’t want her aching from working in the fields. Jacob didn’t look in much better shape. His steps had become slower and slower, but he, too, refused to quit. Cooper walked down the row next to Arnou, the way they had planted fields together for years. “Your wife seems to know what she’s doing. She’s doesn’t seem to be affected at all with the bending and the heat.” Arnou looked over at his wife and smiled, pulling off his hat. “She 99


worked Steven’s fields for years.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and put his hat back on. “I really want something better for her.” “She’s doing it for you.” Ellen had always worked so hard. Up with the sun to tend to the children and help Maura cook. Then she fed the chickens, sewed, looked after a vegetable garden she’d planted by the house, cleaned…and always with a smile on her face. “She and Becka need to learn more about women’s chores. Maura works too hard.” Arnou nodded. “She does, but she doesn’t seem to mind none.” “Still. We got three women. They ought to be able to help her.” Cooper continued to watch Becka. Wiping her face, she took another step and pushed a seed into the ground. He admired her determination. And the curve of her backside. He wanted to run his hands down her back and over her hips. Help her alleviate the pains he knew had to be plaguing her. His admiration of her had increased after this day’s work, even though he and Arnou had done three times what the women and Jacob had done. He suspected Ilde could have done as much or more by herself if she hadn’t helped the other two, but he did appreciate their effort. It surprised him Becka hadn’t given up after the first hour. She couldn’t have done that much hard work in her entire life. “What you gonna do about Becka?” Turning, Arnou went back to work. Cooper followed him. “Don’t rightly know.” He needed to get her home, but the longer she stayed, the more reluctant he became to do so. The more he wanted to feel her in his arms one more time. He’d been an idiot to take her last night. He could leave her with a child. A child he couldn’t support in the fashion in which she obviously lived. “Don’t get too attached. She belongs somewhere else.” “I know.” Cooper shoved a seed into the ground. This was his life and he loved this land. “But after what happened in town, I’m afraid for 100


her. Whoever’s looking for her might want to harm her.” “Then you’d best find out.” “As soon as the planting gets done, I figure I’ll go to the nearest riverboat landing alone and poke around.” He stepped even with Arnou. He needed to concentrate on the planting and not the woman in the field behind him. “You can work on getting the rice boxes ready.” “We’ll manage fine while you’re away.” Cooper watched Sam ahead of them. Straddling two rows, he did a back and forth swing, planting both rows at the same time. His back glistened with sweat. “I guess you made a good decision when you convinced me to buy him.” Arnou nodded. “Never seen a man work as fast as him.” “And Megan has charmed him.” Arnou laughed. “I’ve never seen the likes of it. She smiles and he smiles.” “At least we know he can. The man doesn’t speak or show any emotion. Kinda scary.” Cooper had never seen the like. He’d seen slaves abused and angry who lashed out at those around them, but this man had seemed shut off from life until Megan flashed one of her smiles and he melted. “Real scary. You’re gonna have to keep her locked up when she’s older. Every young swain about will be begging for her hand.” “She is a darlin’.” She reminded him of Ellen. The quick smile. The willingness to reach out to people. But she was so little he’d have thought Sam would terrify her. Instead, the child had showed the rest of them the man was harmless. And one hell of a worker. “He’s outdoing the two of us.” “Don’t think we could keep up with him if we tried.” “Suppose Maura’s got dinner ready yet?” His stomach rumbled. His mind wandered from planting. He wanted to take Becka to the house and sit next to her at the table. If he were lucky, he might be able to 101


steal a kiss. Arnou shaded his eyes and looked at the sun. “Ought to be close.” “Then we’d best get the women in the house before Becka and Jacob collapse.” He didn’t need them getting sick. “I’m hungry anyway.” “Dinner,” hollered Cooper. He walked back toward Becka. Becka stretched her back. “Is not it a mite early for dinner?” “No.” Cooper took her arm and gave it a small squeeze. He smiled down at her. The sun had already colored her face and she looked even more beautiful with freckles sprouting out. “The sun’s nearly straight up.” He took Jacob’s hand. “After dinner you’re going to stay and help Maura with Megan.” “Aw, Pa. Megan takes a nap.” Jacob scuffed his shoe in the dirt. “Be careful of the seeds.” Arnou wrapped his arm around Ilde and gave her a kiss. Walking up behind them, Sam lifted Jacob onto his shoulders. “I can walk.” He leaned his head against Sam’s, his eyes closing. Cooper smiled. He patted Becka’s hand which rested against his arm. He wanted to be able to wrap his arm around her the way Arnou did Ilde, but he hadn’t the right. “You did a good job, but this afternoon it would be best if you women stayed with Maura and had a sewing lesson.” Becka stepped daintily over the rows of planted seeds, her skirts still tied up between her legs. “I can continue.” He didn’t believe her, except she seemed to have a stubborn streak that might make it possible. Her hand resting on his arm seemed right. His skin tingled where she touched him. He wanted to kiss her. Hold her. Lay with her again. He shook his head. He had to keep these thoughts from his mind. In a few days he would go to gather information that would hopefully lead him to her family. He needed to return her to her home before he 102


couldn’t let her go. “Half a day in the fields is enough your first day out.”

103


CHAPTER 9

Cooper joined Becka on the porch swing after supper and stared up into the clear night sky, watching the stars twinkle. He pushed the swing back and forth with his feet. “Pretty night, ain’t it?” “Yes. The stars seem so close I could reach out and grab one.” She leaned back. He took one of her hands in his, running his finger along the palm and examining the fingernails. “You’ve been here but a week and look at your hands. A blister on the palm.” He drew a circle around it with his finger, then pressed his lips to it. “And your nails are broken and chipped.” She looked at her hands then him. “They got that way with honest work.” “But they were so soft and unmarked.” He held one against his cheek, liking the feel of her skin against his. He put his arm around her 104


shoulder and pulled her closed. She smelled wonderful, obviously having bathed since she’d been in the fields. The tip of her nose had a red spot from the sun and he touched it. He leaned his cheek against her head. She snuggled against him. “It does not matter.” “But you’re a lady. You’re not accustomed to hard work.” Her head nestled against him felt so right—as if she had always been a part of his life. As though they had always shared the night air on the porch after a hard day’s work. She wrapped her arm around his chest and under his arm. “That does not mean I cannot become accustomed.” She shifted against him, putting one foot over his ankle. A small groan escaped her. “Sore?” “Very. Planting is hard work. I do not know how you and Arnou do it. And Ilde acted as if it were nothing.” Cooper laughed a dry, hard laugh. “We’re used to it. We spend our lives in the fields. Ilde could have done twice what she did today, but she kindly helped the two of you.” “Ouì, she did.” Becka shifted as if trying to get comfortable. “You scare her.” He shifted on the swing and took her into his lap. “Why do you say that?” “She never speaks a word when you are about, but today in the fields, she chattered constantly. Not only did she teach Jacob and me the proper way to plant the seeds, she talked about how wonderful Arnou is. He is a saint in her opinion.” “And she an angel in his.” Brushing a strand of loose hair from Becka’s cheek, he raised her chin and kissed her, holding her lips with him for a moment. When he released her, he tucked her chin beneath his and rubbed her arms. He shouldn’t be holding her. He’d thought he’d never see the sun 105


shine again after Ellen died. The sparkle in the sky had just started to rise and he couldn’t chance that the sun would be obliterated from the sky again when she left. His heart couldn’t survive being shattered twice. “It is nice to see them so in love.” She sighed and snuggled tighter against him. He couldn’t put her away. Holding her made life seem worthwhile for the first time in a long time. He needed her touch. She made him feel alive and having her in his lap pushed everything else to the back. Her heat warmed him and increased his desire to lay with her again. If she stayed in his lap, she wouldn’t be able to help but notice how much he wanted her. “I hope it lasts.” She rubbed a circle on his back. “Nothing is forever.” Then she sighed. “I know that more than anyone. I obviously have spent more than twenty years on this earth and yet I was born but a week ago on the river’s edge.” She leaned her head back and looked into his eyes. “It is not a bad life into which I have been born.” He stifled a groan as she shifted in his lap. “But your former life had to be much easier.” She shrugged. “Thankfully, I cannot remember.” He lifted her from his lap and set her with her back to him. If he allowed her to stay in his lap any longer, he would carry her to bed for a repeat of last night. “Tomorrow you’ll stay with Maura.” Easing her head forward, he rubbed her shoulders and down her back. “Jacob and I shall help in the fields.” She rotated her head. Her shoulders sagged. “At least until dinner.” “Only in the morning.” He kissed the back of her neck and blew across it. When she shivered, a jolt ran through him. He fought the urge to wrap his hands about her and cup her breasts. Instead he rubbed his fingers along the muscles of her neck, rubbing against the knots that had formed. 106


Her arms hung down by her sides. She moved in rhythm to his ministrations as though her body had no energy of its own. “That is hard work. I much admire you for being able to do it without seeming to tire.” He kissed her neck again. She eased back against him and he wrapped his arms about her, crossing his arms in front of her. Kissing her ear, he cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden. She rubbed her hips against him, settling back against him. He pressed her against his chest, continuing to rub her nipples. His breath caught in his throat. “Believe me, I’m tired by the end of the day.” Though not tired enough to sleep well in months. No matter how long he stayed working in the fields, sleep eluded him. Now when Ellen had faded from his dreams, Becka had crept in, making it no easier to rest. “You barely had the energy for a reading lesson tonight.” She snuggled closer, nearly purring. “I spent most of the afternoon napping in the chair while Maura gave Ilde a sewing lesson. I sat with a sleeve to stitch in my lap for over an hour, not a stitch taken, before Maura relieved me of it and did it herself.” He wrapped his arms around her, leaning his chin on her head. She was exhausted and he should leave her be. “I’m sure she didn’t mind.” “Probably not.” She laid her hands on top of his. “I enjoy being part of your little family, so filled with love and respect for each other. Somehow, I do not imagine that many households are such.” “Not to my experience.” At least not those he’d been a part of. He rubbed his cheek against Becka’s hair. Its fragrance wafted around him. The smell of lilacs warmed his soul and made him want to do more than hold her. “Where do you come from?” “East of London.” “London! How did you come to be here?” She tensed against him. 107


“It’s a long story.” A story he didn’t want to remember because it brought pain in the remembering. He only wanted to hold her and feel her warmth. “Then tell me how you met Maura and Arnou.” He allowed her to cover the backs of his hands with hers. Maybe if he talked, he’d stop touching her. Her chest moved beneath where his hands were pressed, her breathing slow. Her body relaxed against him. She probably hadn’t the energy to move. “I was fifteen when I landed in New Orleans. Chesterfield—he was my master of sorts—took me to the plantation he’d inherited from a distant cousin. He’d brought three of us from England with him as stable hands because he didn’t trust any of the Negroes he’d inherited to tend to his horses. “Maura and her family were part of his inheritance. Even then, she had a capacity to love those about her and make them feel at peace.” “You were not at peace?” Her voice was soft as a sigh. “I was angry at having been brought from my home without so much as a ‘by your leave.’ I didn’t wish to come to America.” His laugh sounded harsh to him. “Once I got off that damn ship, nothing could’ve persuaded me to get back on it, even to go home. I spent the whole voyage locked in the hold, sick.” He breathed the smell of her to calm the anger that threatened. “How could he bring you against your will? You were not a slave.” She rubbed the backs of his hands, drawing circles against his skin. He shivered and hugged her. “He thought differently. He’d paid my parents for me when I was twelve and taught me to tend the horses. I belonged to him.” She shook her head. “It is not right.” “I could do nothing about it.” He pushed the vision of Chesterfield from his mind. “When we got to his plantation, he sent the three of us to live with the slaves. He gave us a cabin, with a hole in the roof, for our use. 108


“Maura appeared at the doorway the moment we’d set foot inside. She looked us up and down, three ragamuffins. With the warmest smile I’d ever seen, she informed us that as soon as the others came in from the fields, they would thatch the roof for us. “Bustling past us, she cleaned up the room. Then she invited us to supper at her quarters that evening. Her home was ramshackle on the outside, but clean and homey on the inside. The warmth reached out to us. Her family, her daughters, her husband and Arnou sat around the table and welcomed us even though we were white. They acted as though they entertained white folks at their table every evening. They laughed and talked and shared their sparse meal with us.” He rubbed her stomach, her hands still atop his. She sighed and dropped her hands to his legs, rubbing them through his trousers. “Arnou, however, spent the entire evening staring at me. He wouldn’t come near me, shying away if he had to pass me a dish. My anger frightened him.” “That is very understandable.” She wiggled again and stretched her legs. He swallowed a groan as she pushed against him, increasing his desire. “You spoke of Maura’s daughters and husband. What became of them?” A twinge of pain shot through Cooper’s heart and he pressed his face into her hair. “Chesterfield needed money for his horse breeding and sold off several of the slaves, including Maura’s family.” “How terrible for her. She never shows her sorrow.” She picked at the hair on his arms, then trailed her fingertips down and over his hands. “But it’s hidden within.” Cooper brushed the side of her face. He didn’t wish to think anymore of what had been. It was gone. He wished that part of his life could vanish the way Becka’s life had vanished. He shifted her so he could nibble at her lower lip. She leaned into 109


him, moaning into his mouth. Her tongue brushed against his lips and he deepened the kiss. Pulling out her hair pins, he brushed back her loose hair letting it fall down her back. As he entangled his hands in it, he pulled her closer. Her warmth enveloped him. He blocked everything from his memory but the feel of her in his arms as he continued to buss her hungrily while he caressed her back. When she groaned, he stroked the nape of her neck, then with his fingers traced down her throat, around her arms and down her side. Something deep within him shouted stop, but he shut out the voice. He wanted to forget all the ache and the memories, not thinking about the consequences. Tomorrow would have to take care of itself. He kissed her again as he stroked her back, her breasts pressed against him. He clung to her. When he released her lips, she buried her head against his neck, nuzzling his skin below his ear. The evening suddenly seemed very warm as he continued to touch her back. She shivered against him, her breath caressing his neck. When he rested his cheek against the top of her head, her hair tickled his chin. A sigh rattled through him. He wanted to carry her to his room and lay her upon his bed. Fondling her back, he felt the swell of her breasts as he skimmed his hand down her side. He cupped her breast in his hand and rubbed her nipple through her dress while he nibbled at her neck. Her head tipped back and he brushed his lips up to her chin and back to the top of her dress. She laid her hand atop his as he played with her nipple. The feel of the hard nub against his hand shot desire through him. He hardened and gasped, wanting to take her on the porch. He captured her lips again. She fondled the side of his face, then her hand fell to her side. He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. They were half closed, as though she fought to keep them open. The day was catching up with 110


her and no matter how much he wanted her, she was exhausted from being in the field. He cuddled her face against his chest. He took her hand and pressed his lips against the back, then the palm and up the inside of her arm. She shivered. He pulled her hand to his chest, clutching it there. “I am awake.” She was fading as fast as a cut flower on a summer day. His desire for her grew as he held her, but she needed to be abed. Abed alone, to sleep. He pulled her close and hugged her. She nestled into him. Her breathing becoming more regular as he held her close. He sighed. It wouldn’t be proper to carry her to his room, but he could take her to her room and tuck her into bed. The exhaustion of the day had caught up with her. His wanting hadn’t lessened, but she had put to rest his thoughts for the moment. He stood and scooped her into his arms. “Hmmm,” she murmured. “I’m taking you to bed.” He brushed his fingers over her cheekbones as she closed her eyes and let her head lay on his shoulder. He studied her face. Such peace. He wished he could find such peace. But he knew her dreams were plagued with anything but peace. It was as if remembering haunted her dreams, but not the waking hours. Maybe tonight she would be tired enough to not dream. Maybe tonight one of them could find peace. He kissed her on the forehead as he climbed the stairs. *

*

*

She leaned down and shoved another seed into the ground. A pain shot up her back and she pressed her fist against it. How the rest of them managed, she didn’t know. If she had to spend the whole day in the fields, she would die. No doubt existed in her mind about that fact. She stood for a moment and watched the others. The sun beat down 111


unmercifully. Rivulets of sweat trickled down her back and from beneath her arms, making her dress stick to her. The shoes Maura had loaned her had rubbed a blister on her left big toe and it stung every time she stepped. Her fingers were encrusted with dirt. She was sure she had smeared it across her face every time she tried to wipe away the perspiration before it ran in her eyes and made them sting. If not for the kindness extended to her by the others, she would sit down in the middle of the field and cry. Then she would return to the house, have a hot bath and never set foot in a field for the rest of her life. She pushed a strand of mud-caked hair back from her face and set her jaw. The others could do it. So could she. Just not as fast. Or as gracefully. She looked across the field. Wavy lines of heat radiated upward, giving the others a surrealistic appearance. Like her dreams. Only Cooper wouldn’t awaken her from this one. She shook her head and stretched her back again. Feeling sorry for herself would not accomplish anything. Already Jacob and Ilde were several feet ahead of her on their rows. The men had finished theirs and were headed back toward her on new ones, Sam in the lead by half a field. Not only did the man do two rows at a time, he moved like lightning, which amazed her considering his size. When they had started even this morning, she could hear him as he hummed softly to himself. The man never stood, but had a swinging gait as he moved back and forth between the rows. She looked back toward where she’d started. She hadn’t even planted half a row yet. More like a third, but she guessed any little bit helped. Twisting at the waist, she tried to alleviate the pain in her back. She wasn’t any good if she slowed down the others, so she’d told Ilde to go on ahead. Jacob seemed to have picked up speed, but he didn’t have to bend very far to the ground. Ilde had a rhythm of step, bend, step, bend that resembled a dance. 112


Becka shuffled, bent, couldn’t straighten, shuffled some more. She must look ridiculous, but none of the others would say anything or criticize her attempt. They were gracious if nothing else. She watched Cooper as he moved beside Arnou, as though they were one. They bent and stepped in unison. She knew they chatted as they worked. She wanted someone with whom to chat, but she wouldn’t be able to speak anyway. It took all of her concentration to move, bend and plant. Cooper’s skin sparkled with sweat. He was far enough ahead of her she couldn’t see the slashing scars that were apart of him. She remembered the feel of them beneath her fingers. Also, she could feel his muscles move as he’d been above her and in her. Her insides turned molten and she was sure she sweated more. Having such unladylike thoughts in the middle of a field seemed ludicrous and she’d have laughed, except it would take too much energy. Thinking about being in Cooper’s arms was a more pleasant pastime than planting. She had thought he would bed her again last night. When he’d held and kissed her, she’d wanted him and could feel his desire pressed against her. Then she’d fallen asleep. Right in his arms. She shook her head. How could she have fallen asleep then? She’d wanted him to hold her and make love to her, then she’d snuggled up and closed her eyes. She shouldn’t have closed her eyes. She wondered what he thought of her. She acted wanton one moment and the next… The next hadn’t come. This morning he’d smiled at her and squeezed her hand. Asked how she felt. She had to admit she’d slept through the night without a nightmare. She didn’t even remember going to sleep or to bed. Sighing heavily, she turned to plant another seed when she saw dust in the distance. Using her hand to shield her eyes, she watched two 113


horsemen riding fast toward the field. Probably someone who needed to speak with Cooper. She turned back and bent to shove a seed into the ground. It wouldn’t help to lollygag. She was determined to finish at least half a row before dinner. She didn’t hear the horses’ hooves, but she couldn’t straighten to check if the riders had veered away. She took a step forward, and shoved in a seed. Maybe she could make better time if she didn’t try to straighten up. She planted several more seeds. Hands grabbed her around the waist. “Non,” she yelled. “Au secours!” A hand clamped over her mouth. She kicked at the man holding her against him, dragging her heels in the dirt as he pulled her backward. She dug her fingernails into his arm. Her heart thundered in her ears. “Ow,” the man yelled. “Au secours!” She lifted her feet and lurched forward as the man nearly dropped her. If she could slow him down, the others would reach her. They weren’t far away. She couldn’t let him get her on his horse. “Arnou,” screeched Ilde. “Pa,” screamed Jacob. The man dragged her through the dirt. She heard his horse snort behind them. She twisted and the man dropped her. “Au secours!” she screamed. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. The smell of rancid sweat assailed her and she choked. She kicked her feet and he pinned her legs against his chest. She beat on his back with her fists. “Au secours!” Someone had to reach her now. The man lifted her toward his horse. She jammed her nails into his back and looked toward the field, looking for Cooper. Looking for someone to save her. Sam was barreling toward them, his face contorted in rage. 114


CHAPTER 10

Cooper’s heart leapt into his throat blocking the flow of air, but his feet somehow raced across the plowed field. Ilde’s high-pitched screech mixed with Jacob’s screams. He knew the man who held Becka—Hickory. And now the man stood in his fields, his arm around Becka’s waist and his hand clamped over her mouth. A second man stood beside Hickory, his mouth hanging open as he watched Sam race toward him. The man turned and ran two steps. Sam grabbed him by the waist and tossed him across the field. A scream rent the air before the man thudded into the dirt and laid still. Hickory backed away from Sam. “I’ll break ’er neck.” Becka clawed at his hand and dragged her feet in the dirt. “Ow.” Hickory shuffled backward, pulling Becka with him. Cooper was nearly upon them when Sam grabbed Hickory by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Becka fell forward. Hickory 115


squeaked and tore at Sam’s hands. Sam tossed him to the side as though he weighed no more than a feather. Scooping up Becka, Cooper held her shaking body against him. Tears poured down her cheeks, her face ashen. Jacob thudded into his leg, nearly spilling them into the field. Arnou grabbed Hickory, while Sam picked the other man out of the dirt and held him so only the tips of his toes touched the ground. Cooper brushed the hair from the side of Becka’s face. His heart pounded against his chest. Her heart beat against his. “Are you all right?” She nodded her head against him. “I seem to be fine.” “Put me down,” screeched the man Sam held. Twisting and wriggling, he tried to get away from him. His face blanched and terror shone from his eyes. With his arm twisted behind his back, Arnou pushed Hickory ahead of him. “Let me go. Yous got no right.” Hickory watched Sam and the other man. Cooper set Becka down beside him, wrapping his arm around her. “I’ve got every right. You’re trespassing and tried to harm my family.” Hickory sneered at Cooper. “She ain’t yer family. Yous jest after the reward.” Arnou twisted Hickory’s arm up farther. Hickory leaned forward. “Hey, your darky’s gonna break my arm.” The other man still dangled from Sam’s grasp, but managed to gasp out, “You better let me down. I’ll have the sheriff on you.” Cooper gave him a quick glance. “Maybe we should take them into town to the sheriff.” “Now that won’t be necessary.” Hickory squirmed against Arnou’s hold. “We can settle this. There’s enough for everybody.” Cooper clenched his fist against his side. They wanted Becka for 116


some reason and he needed to know what it was. “You’d best start talking or the sheriff will be the least of your problems.” Hickory looked at Sam. “There’s a thousand-dollar reward out for her return.” “Whose return?” Cooper hugged Becka closer. “The woman’s.” Hickory sneered at Cooper again. “That’s a lot of money, but I’ll be glad to share with yous.” “She’s not the woman you’re looking for.” Cooper wondered who was offering the reward. Was Becka’s family looking for her? He’d take her back. He didn’t need a reward, but he surely wouldn’t let the likes of Hickory and his friend have her. She might not make it home alive. “She’s the only strange white woman in the area. Has to be her.” Hickory stared at Becka. Cooper pushed her behind him. A chill ran up his back the way Hickory looked at her. “Besides being the only white woman, what makes you think it’s her?” He was sure, but he wanted to hear their reasoning. “Has to be. Not many strangers about.” “This time you’re wrong. She’s my cousin, come to visit.” Hickory blinked. His mouth fell open, then he swallowed. “Don’t believe yous got a cousin.” Cooper took a step toward Hickory. “Are you calling me a liar?” “Ow.” Hickory bent farther forward. “Has to be her. She’d of washed up about here. Her and the necklace.” Cooper breathed in slowly, trying not to gasp. His heart skipped several beats. “You’d best get off my land.” “Not without the woman.” Hickory tried to raise his head to look at Cooper. “She’s not going anywhere with the likes of you.” “I won’t hurt her. Just want her and the necklace.” Hickory twisted 117


his neck. “I’ll split the money with yous. Give yous a third. Only seems fair seeing as we’s the ones that knows about the reward.” “Arnou, Sam, get them back on their horses and out of here.” Cooper sucked in a deep breath and clenched his fists, wanting to plant one in Hickory’s face. “If I see you on my property again, I’ll shoot before I ask what you want.” “Yous ain’t being very neighborly.” Hickory stumbled as Arnou pushed him along. “Yous ain’t heard the last of this. I’ll have the sheriff out here after your darkies.” “I’ll have you arrested for assaulting my cousin.” He pulled Becka close to him. Hugging her, he rested his cheek against her hair. His body ached to keep her close. His heart ached at the thought he’d nearly lost her. If Sam hadn’t been there, she might have been hurt. He’d give him his freedom for saving her, but he’d ask him to stay around to protect her. Tomorrow he’d go to the riverboat landing and find out more about the reward. “They know who I am.” Becka leaned into him. “They do.” He known he’d have to face this day since the beginning. When had it become so difficult to think of her leaving? “You should turn me in for the reward. You could use the money. Buy more land for you and Arnou.” She wrapped her arms around him. He leaned her back, wishing he could kiss her. He wanted to examine her, make sure she wasn’t injured. He wanted to touch her. “I’d never ask for a reward for returning you to your family.” “But you could use the money.” “I don’t want money for helping you.” He breathed in the lilac smell from the soap she used. He’d hold her a while longer. Long enough to make sure she was safe. “Pa, Becka’s not going away?” Jacob wrapped one arm around his leg and the other around Becka’s. 118


“She has a family somewhere. We have to find them.” “I don’t want her to go.” Neither did he. “I’m sure she’ll come to visit us.” A sinking feeling fell over him. Why would she want to? Once she remembered who she was and how rich she’d been, she wouldn’t have any use for the likes of them. She patted Jacob’s head. “I shall visit. I shall never forget my rescuer.” Cooper turned her loose, but wrapped an arm around her waist. Having her close made his body warm and an ache filled him that he didn’t think would ever leave if she did. “You’re going back to the house. Maura’ll take care of you.” He wanted to stay and guard the house, but he needed to finish planting or his family would starve. “She’s got a shotgun and can protect you.” “I am ready to rest.” She smiled at him. “Fieldwork is hard enough without being attacked.” “No more field work.” Cooper walked beside her, arm around her waist, Jacob’s hand in his. Ilde fell in beside them. “I don’t thinks I’ve ever been so scairt.” “I was. When that man grabbed Becka before.” Jacob hiccuped. “Pa, you got to find her family before someone hurts her.” “I intend to.” “We should go to the riverboat landing.” Becka leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere until I’m sure it’s safe. Tomorrow I’ll go to the riverboat landing alone and see who is offering the reward and why. Then if it’s safe, I’ll take you.” “Be careful, Pa.” Jacob squeezed his hand. “I will.” Very careful. Not to give away her location. Not to give any information. Just obtain it. *

* 119

*


Cooper tied his horse and entered the saloon. He looked around. Men sat at tables playing poker. He made his way to the end of the bar and ordered a whiskey. He leaned against the highly polished wood and sipped his drink. The barkeep polished the wood with a rag, then poured two patrons whiskey. The man sauntered to the other end to serve two other men. Cooper scanned the room looking for familiar faces. He didn’t want to run into someone he knew who would ask questions that could cause him trouble. He didn’t see anyone, but the man at the back table seemed familiar. His white ascot was perfectly tied. His black hair was smoothed back, not a hair out of place. He sipped at a glass filled with amber liquid and puffed on a cigar. A frown creased his face. He glanced up. Cooper looked away. He didn’t want to be caught staring. He’d seen the man before, but he couldn’t remember where. He laughed softly to himself. This must be how Becka looked at the world. Knowing she’d seen or done something, but not being able to remember. He finished his drink and held up his glass to the bartender. The man moved back and filled Cooper’s glass. “I heard something about a reward for a woman.” Cooper swirled his drink in his glass. The barkeep leaned his elbows on the bar. “Yeah. Mr. Fortier is looking for a woman and a necklace.” He leaned closer to Cooper. “He’s more interested in the necklace.” Cooper took a sip. “She run off from him?” The barkeep lowered his voice, glancing toward Fortier. “He was showing off. He likes to show off with the ladies. Always seems to have a new on one his arm.” The barkeep wiped at the spotless counter. “I remember this one.” 120


“He brought her in here?” “No. Only women we have in here serve drinks, but I was on my way to work when they landed. He took her to the restaurant across the way. Fine looking woman. Raven hair curled up under the tiniest bit of a hat you ever saw. A golden dress. There wasn’t a man on the street who didn’t stop to stare. Mr. Fortier strutted like a peacock to be escorting such a fine lady.” The man stared into space for a moment as though lost in his thoughts. The woman sounded like Becka, but how had she ended up in the river? “So how’d he lose her?” “Not sure. Rumor has it she fell overboard.” The barkeep picked up the whiskey bottle and moved down the bar to refill the other customers’ glasses. Cooper turned for a moment and scrutinized the men in the bar. They were a quiet bunch, intent on their cards and their drinks. Fortier seemed to be waiting. A large man sauntered in and across the saloon toward the dark-haired man. He sat, his legs extending out beside the table. He waved his hand at one of the women and she hurried over with a glass for him. He filled his glass from the bottle on the table and extracted a cigar from his pocket. Fortier frowned at him. The new man smiled, and it sent a chill through Cooper. Suddenly he wished he could hear what they said, but the tables nearest were occupied. “Want another drink?” Cooper turned to face the barkeep. He emptied his glass and held it out to the man. He was about to his limit. He’d never been much of a drinker, but he had to get more information out of this man. “You look hot. Want a drink?” The barkeep poured himself a whiskey and took Cooper’s money. “Thanks.” “Why’s it so important Mr. Fortier get the woman back? Something 121


special about her?” Becka was very special, but what did Fortier want with her? “Far as I know, he’s most interested in the necklace. It was worth a great deal of money, which is why he put a thousand-dollar reward out for the return of the necklace and the woman.” The barkeep sipped at his drink. “If the necklace is worth so much, wouldn’t he be happy with just the return of it?” He would gladly give up Becka’s necklace if it would guarantee her safety. At the moment, he had Sam standing guard over her, but he’d feel better if Fortier rescinded the reward. “He probably would be, but the rumor says she duped him and he wouldn’t be upset if he found her dead, as long as the necklace was still around her neck.” The barkeep refilled his glass. Cooper put down another coin. “That seems likely. If she fell in the Mississippi, she probably drowned.” “Most people are betting on it, but Mr. Fortier’s obsessed. He’s been up and down the river and even traveled inland. That necklace means a lot to him.” “It must’ve belonged to his mother or something.” Cooper ran his finger around the top of his glass. Becka had said she had the feeling the necklace didn’t belong to her, but she didn’t know to whom it did belong. The barkeep laughed. “Don’t think the man has a mother.” Cooper looked at him. “You don’t get around here much, do you?” “No.” Cooper shook his head. “Mr. Fortier is only interested in business, most of it shady.” The barkeep leaned closer to Cooper. “I heard he’s cheated many wealthy businessmen in New Orleans.” “Then why does the necklace mean so much? He must be wealthy.” The barkeep shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? Some people 122


are never wealthy enough.” Cooper needed to find out more information about Becka. Fortier was a problem in the fact that his reward put her in danger. If he could get her back to her family, maybe they could protect her and deal with Fortier. “Who was the woman? Some rich lady from New Orleans?” The barkeep stared at him. “Are you thinking about trying to find her?” “Hey. Why not? Anyone could use that kind of money.” The barkeep nodded his head. “If I didn’t have to be here, I’d probably be looking for her myself, but the likelihood is she’s at the bottom of the river. Fortier ain’t never going to see her or that necklace again.” “That’s a shame.” Cooper took a tiny sip of his whiskey. “You didn’t say if she was a fine lady from New Orleans or a fancy lady.” “Mr. Fortier don’t cotton to no fancy ladies. He only escorts fine ladies from good families.” He poured himself another drink and held out his hand to Cooper. Cooper dropped a coin into it. “He ruined most of the ones stupid enough to fall for his flattery.” “You’d think his reputation would’ve gotten about so he didn’t have any more fine ladies to ruin.” “Some women think they can tame one like him.” The man belted back the whiskey and poured himself another one. “Some like to play with fire. Don’t think they’ll get burnt.” Cooper dropped another coin on the counter. He’d pay for the barkeep to drink if he could keep him talking. “I’ve met some like that. The one that fell overboard that way?” “Don’t know. I just know Mr. Fortier was really riled about her going overboard.” The barkeep leaned really close. “She was the daughter of some man with whom he had business dealings. I heard he ruined her sister and then the chit ended up dead. Rawlings was the 123


family name, I think. He was married to a Frenchy from New Orleans.” That made sense. Becka spoke French and had obviously been from a wealthy family. But what had she been doing with Fortier? Especially if he had already harmed her family. “Know her name?” “Why?” The barkeep glanced around Cooper. “If I find her, I want to make sure it’s the right woman.” He had to know more than her family name. He wanted to be able to give her a Christian name as a gift. “If she’s got the necklace, you’ll know. It’s diamond and ruby.” “I’d still like to know her name.” “Something French sounding. Julietta. Naw, that ain’t right.” He turned and grabbed a bottle from behind him. “Mr. Fortier wants a new bottle.” He dropped his cloth and walked from behind the bar. “Oh, I remember. Genevieve. Genevieve Rawlings. He was growling that name one night when he was in his cups.” The barkeep walked over to Fortier and set the bottle in the middle of the table. The front door swung open letting in a swirl of sunlight. Cooper blinked at the shadowy image that walked through the door. Something about him seemed familiar. As the door swung shut behind him, Cooper choked on the sip of whiskey he’d taken. Hickory had just entered the saloon. Hickory, who was sure Becka was Genevieve, was headed toward Fortier’s table. Cooper turned his back to Hickory and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar. He had to make a retreat before Hickory recognized him and informed Fortier where Becka was for the reward. He glanced toward Fortier’s table. Hickory waved his hands in the air, his voice overly loud. “I knows I found her.” Fortier glared at Hickory. The man sitting with Fortier started to rise, but Fortier motioned for him to sit. A smile flickered across the man’s face. 124


Cooper put on his hat, pulled it low over his brow and strolled toward the door while everyone watched the exchange in the back. “If I tells you where she is, how do I’s know yous won’t cheat me out of my reward?” Hickory’s voice swirled around him. Cooper stepped out into the bright sunlight and bolted toward his horse. He didn’t care what Fortier’s answer was. Eventually, Hickory would tell where he thought Becka was and Fortier and the other man would show up. He didn’t like the looks of that other man. He was cold and unflappable. He had to get home even though it would be late. First thing tomorrow he’d take Becka to New Orleans to find her family. They’d have to be careful. He’d take Sam with him. The sight of the man alone stopped most people. Surely her family would know what to do. There had to be a way to stop Fortier. Fortier. He remembered. He’d been the man talking to Stevens the day of the auction. What business did Stevens have with Fortier? As soon as he delivered Becka to her family, he’d find out. A tightness squeezed his heart. He’d take Becka home and life would go back the way it had been. But he didn’t want it the way it had been.

125


CHAPTER 11

The front door creaked as Cooper tried to sneak into the house in the middle of the night. A growl greeted him as he edged inside. He stopped dead in his tracks. A large shadow loomed near the base of the stairway from where the growl had come. A black bear in the house? He sucked in his breath and took a step backward, wishing he had a weapon. His heart thudded in his ears. Had the beast gained access to the upstairs? To the children? To Becka? The shadow lumbered toward him, the growling becoming louder. It wasn’t a bear. “Sam. It’s me. Cooper. I just got home.” He stood, unmoving, afraid to breathe. The growling stopped and so did the shadow. Cooper shuddered, sucked in a deep breath, then stepped forward. “Everything fine?” 126


“Yes, massar. Slept by steps.” The floorboard creaked as Sam shifted. “Want I should stay?” “No. Go on to bed. We’re safe for tonight.” “Yes, massar.” The floorboards creaked toward Cooper. “Call me Coop.” “Yes, massar.” The door closed. Cooper shook his head, then mounted the stairs. He peeked into Megan’s room. The moonlight shone through the window illuminating the small figure. He’d always been home when she went down and he’d missed tucking her in. He smiled at the little girl, curled on her side, clutching her blanket and sucking her thumb. He eased the door to her room shut. Then he peeked in on Jacob. He lay askew, with one leg hanging over the edge of the bed, his arms thrown outward and the blanket slipping off the other side. Cooper tiptoed in and placed Jacob’s leg back on the bed. Then he tucked the covers around him and smiled. He was growing into a fine boy. Ellen would have been proud of him and how he helped. Bending, he kissed Jacob on the forehead. The boy sighed and rolled over. Closing the door, Cooper crept to Becka’s room. At least she hadn’t had a nightmare and scared Sam half to death. Cooper had warned the large man before he left she sometimes screamed out in the middle of the night. He hadn’t wanted Sam destroying the upper part of the house because he thought someone attacked her. He opened the door to Becka’s room. The moonlight streamed across her black hair, making it glisten against the pillow. Her face had a look of peace on it. Would she still be as peaceful when he woke her and told her the news? Or should he wait until morning? No. They needed to be ready to leave at first light. After hearing Hickory’s tale, Fortier wouldn’t be far behind. Cooper didn’t want her to be here when Fortier arrived. 127


When he sat on the side of the bed, Becka moaned and rolled toward him, still asleep. “Becka, wake up. It’s me, Cooper.” She stirred, but didn’t open her eyes. “Genevieve. Genevieve Rawlings.” She snuggled deeper into the blankets, giving him no response. She really must not remember who she was. Once he told her her name, would it all come flooding back? Would she become the rich lady he’d found instead of the woman willing to work on his farm? He shook her shoulder. “Becka, wake up. I’ve got to talk to you.” Her eyelids fluttered. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, her dark lashes lay against skin reddened by the sun. Skin that never before had seen the sun except on a carriage ride or a picnic. Now she could return to her life. Opening her eyes, she looked at him for a moment, then jumped. “Oh, my gracious. Was I screaming again?” She clutched the blanket to her. “I do not remember having a nightmare.” He smiled at her, wanting to sweep her into his arms. She looked so lovely with her tousled hair. Warm and sensual. Begging to be held. “No. I woke you. We need to talk.” She fluttered her hand over her chest. “You gave me a fright. I did not expect to find someone sitting on my bedside in the dark.” “I could light the lamp if you’d like.” She put her hand out and stayed him. “That is not necessary. We do not need to disturb the others.” “The children are asleep and I sent Sam back to his cabin.” Cooper brushed the hair from her face, a jolt of desire racing up his arm and landing in his center. He dropped his hand to his side before he swept her into his arms and kissed her. “I sure wouldn’t want to startle that man. He’d rip off your head before finding out who you were.” Becka giggled. “I imagine he would.” She shifted up on the bed. 128


“Of what did you want to speak?” “I found out who you are.” She stared at him a moment, then looked toward the window. “You are sure?” Her voice was as soft as a caress. He nodded. She turned back to him. “Well?” “Oh, yes.” He didn’t want to tell her. He wanted her to remain Becka, but he couldn’t do that. As a grown man, he couldn’t have everything he wanted. Luckily, he had his family and his farm. And he’d found love once in his life, even though losing it had torn out his heart. He shouldn’t even be thinking about loving again. He couldn’t help himself…which was why they had to be on their way in the morning. Once she was back with her family, his life could return to normal. With a hole ripped in it, but normal just the same. Laying her hand on his arm created a warm spot on his skin. “I guess you should tell me.” She trembled. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her. Instead he laid his hand on top of hers. “Your name is Genevieve Rawlings.” A blank look filled her eyes. “It is a very pretty name.” He nodded, puzzled by her expression. “It’s a right pretty name, and it belongs to you.” “Are you sure?” She tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips. “I think I prefer Becka.” “But Genevieve is your name.” He studied her face. Her look made him want to laugh. Made him want to pull her into his arms. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “Not a thing.” She smiled at him. “But you are sure?” “Oh, yes.” “The children can continue to call me Becka. No sense in confusing them, seeing as I cannot remember being Genevieve anyway.” 129


Cooper shook his head. “There’s more.” He told her of Fortier and the reward. “We must leave for New Orleans tomorrow. That’s the only way you’ll be safe.” “And the children.” She stared over his head for a moment. “I cannot have ruffians showing up to collect the reward. Nor can I have them grabbing me. Soon Joshua will have nightmares of his own.” Sighing, she nodded. “Yes, we must go to New Orleans.” A soft smile creased her face, as she looked at him. “Maybe if I find my family, I shall remember who I am. Not having any past is a bit unnerving. Do you know where my family lives?” “That information I couldn’t get, but they shouldn’t be too hard to find.” “If they are still there.” “They have to be.” Tears formed in her eyes. Cooper pulled her close. “What’s wrong?” He stroked her back through her nightdress. She folded into his arms and rested her head against his chest. “I feel a great sadness bearing down on me and I do not know the cause of it.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Could something terrible have happened to my family? Was that why I was with that terrible man?” “We can’t answer those questions until we get to New Orleans. I’m sure you had a perfectly good reason for being with the likes of him.” He stroked her hair and down her back. Tomorrow they would leave his home. In a few days she would arrive at hers. Their paths would turn away from each other. Never again would he be able to hold her and kiss her. She raised her head and captured his lips with hers. Her tongue traced a line across his mouth and he let her in. A tingle ran through him. Deepening the kiss, he burned everything about it into his mind. It would be a memory he could examine on cold winter nights when 130


Becka—no Genevieve—was no longer around. She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head so he couldn’t break the kiss. Running his hands down her sides, and back up, he stroked the sides of her breasts covered only by the thin cotton of her nightdress. She shivered and groaned against his mouth. He rubbed her nipples until they stood taut against the material. He pulled his lips free of hers and nibbled at her earlobe, then traced a path of kisses down her neck. He massaged her breast, sucking in his breath. A fire burned through him, igniting desires newly rediscovered. With bent head, he licked on her nipple through the material. She moaned, arching her head back. He untied the top of her nightdress and pulled it off her shoulder, following the material with kisses against her soft, white skin. She shivered and grasped hold of him. Pulling the material free from her right breast, he captured it in his mouth and licked it. She cried out and dug her nails into his back through his shirt. She pulled at his shirt, the buttons popping loose. She ran her hands over his bare flesh, burning a path across his chest. Her fingers flicked over his nipples, and he gasped. He leaned back and let her run her hands in frantic circles over his chest. He couldn’t get enough of her touch. His body ached with the need for her. He stripped her gown from her and lay next to her on the bed. She pressed her body against his and he stroked the bare skin of her back, generating more heat between them. “You have on too many clothes.” Her breath caressed his ear. He shivered. “It’s safer that way.” “I do not care about safer.” She flicked her tongue inside his ear. “I do not know what we shall find in New Orleans. I may not remember because I do not wish to have those memories.” He kissed her. He didn’t want to hear about what tomorrow would 131


hold. He only wanted now. The holding of her. Her heat against him. His desire mixed with hers. She pulled at his belt. Breaking the kiss, she brushed her lips across his jaw. “I want new memories to fill the blankness.” Her hand fondled his desire. He rolled to the edge of the bed and shucked off his trousers. Lying back beside her, he ran his hand down her belly. She smiled at him in the dim moonlight. He eased his hand between her legs, feeling the moist warmth that said she wanted him. He eased a finger into her. She arched her back and moaned. She ran her fingers along his hardness. “Come to me,” she whispered. He bent over her. Her legs went around his back, pulling her to him. He entered her slowly. “It won’t hurt this time, I promise, darlin’.” She tightened her hold on him, griping his shoulders. He bussed her as he eased himself in and out of her. Her hips came up to meet him. She pulled her mouth away and pressed her lips against his chest Her body shuddered around his. He thrust one more time into her, then buried his head in her hair, holding her tightly against him. He breathed in her smell, feeling himself still hard within her. She stroked his back and moved her hips against him. He lifted himself and plunged himself into her again. *

*

*

Jacques dismounted from his horse and looked at the small, twostory wooden house in front of him. The white walls sported green shutters. A white slatted swing hung to the left of the door on a broad porch. Wild roses, just beginning to bloom, twined up the porch beams. Around the foot of the porch, a carefully tended flower bed with early spring blooms added a gaiety to the front of the house. So Monroe lived here. If he’d been smart, he’d have come to him 132


first rather than Stevens. Monroe would have sold him the land outright without wanting a percentage of the town he wanted to build. Here were no pretenses of wealth, just a farm that barely supported its owner and his family. “Be careful of that big darky.” Hickory came up behind him. “He’ll rip off your head in a blink of an eye.” Jacques pulled his handkerchief from his sleeve and held it against his nose, wishing the man would either stand downwind or take a bath. He looked at Hickory’s greasy hair slicked back under his frayed bowler hat. His woolen shirt had a patch on the sleeve. His brown pants looked as though they would stand by themselves. “I don’t intend to put myself in a situation where he’ll take a mind to try to kill me. I’d hate to have to shoot the man. I’m sure Monroe would be very upset and expect compensation.” He walked up the porch steps and rapped on the door. Phillippe clomped up the steps behind him and stood at his shoulder. “If she’s in there…?” “I’ll decide at the time. Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.” Jacques turned to glare at Hickory at the bottom of the steps. “You stay with the horses.” Hickory’s bottom lip turned down. “I gets the reward iffen she’s here.” Jacques shuddered and looked away. “Of course.” He rapped on the door again. “I’m coming.” A woman’s voice wafted through the door. Jacques took a step back and leaned against one of the porch posts, crossing his ankles. A black woman holding a white baby opened the door. She fixed him with a stare, then Phillippe. Then she humphed. She pointed to Hickory standing behind Jacques. “That man best get off this property. Massa Monroe won’t be none too happy about his being here.” 133


“He’s with me.” Jacques smiled at her. He could win over most women with a smile. “He’ll stay with the horses and won’t bother anyone.” “I’d rather he left.” She shifted the baby and glared at the three men. He smiled again, hoping to soothe her. “I need to talk with your master.” “I’m not moving from this door ’til that man rides out.” She closed the door part way. “I have business to conduct with Mr. Monroe.” Edging the door closed, she set the little girl down behind her. A shotgun appeared in her hands. “Not so long as that man’s here.” Jacques took in a slow deep breath and stood away from the post. The muzzle of the gun pointed straight at him and the expression on the woman’s face told him she’d pull the trigger without blinking an eye if he tried to take it away from her. He turned to Hickory. “Go wait by the river. We’ll stop for you on the way out.” “I’m not leaving. You won’t pay me.” Hickory crossed his arms over his chest. “For God’s sake, man. She’ll shoot you if you don’t.” Jacques hated working with people like Hickory. They cared for nothing but the money and they weren’t gentlemanly enough to wait for it. He nodded his head to Phillippe. Phillippe strolled down the steps toward Hickory. Hickory backed up. Phillippe kept moving. Hickory shrugged and mounted his horse. Phillippe shoved his hands into his trouser pockets as Hickory rode off, then turned and stood at the bottom of the steps. “Now, ma’am, if we could talk to Mr. Monroe.” Jacques turned back to her and smiled. “Ma, who’s these people?” Jacques jumped and turned toward the voice. A black man and 134


woman and a small white boy came around from the side of the house. He didn’t need the entire family present. “They’re looking for Massa Monroe.” The woman’s voice was clipped. The man shoved the child toward the woman with him. “Take him inside with Megan. Go to the kitchen and wait.” He stood between the woman and the boy and Jacques. Once the two disappeared inside, the older black woman with the shotgun stepped out on the porch and shut the door. The man joined her. Why couldn’t things be easy, just once? Jacques suppressed a sigh. All he wanted to know was if Genevieve and the necklace were here. And since he was here, he’d offer Monroe money for the ten acres by the river. Two hundred dollars should be enough and he had that in his pocket. His smile wore thin along with his patience. “Could you call Mr. Monroe, please?” The woman pointed the gun at the edge of the porch, at his feet. “The massa’s not here,” the black man said. He had to get inside the house and see if they’d hidden the necklace there. They could keep Genevieve. If she started a ruckus over the jewelry, only then would he dispose of her. “Then can we talk with the young woman who’s been staying with him?” “She’s gone to town with him.” The black man had lowered his eyes, but Jacques knew he watched him through his eyelashes. “Might we bother you for a cup of tea? It was a long, hot ride out here.” Once they were inside and the woman put down the gun, then Phillippe could search the house. It wasn’t that big. It couldn’t have many hiding places. The woman edged up the gun. “The massa wouldn’t like it if we let strangers in when he wasn’t about.” 135


Jacques smiled, giving it his all. His best smile had melted many a woman. He’d deal with the man afterwards. Phillippe cleared his throat. Jacques glanced toward him and shook his head. Phillippe might be able to take the woman out with his knife, but her finger had already eased back the trigger. Jacques knew if they made any threatening movement, he’d be blasted right off the porch. “I’m awfully hot and dry.” “River’s not far.” The black man raised his head enough to make eye contact with Jacques. A shiver ran down Jacques’ spine. This wasn’t the man Hickory had been talking about, but he looked as though he could take care of himself if he had to and would protect the woman with his life. “When might I call back to speak to Mr. Monroe?” He wasn’t going to get inside the house now. He’d have to be patient. “Can’t rightly say.” The black woman didn’t ease her grip on the trigger. “Please tell him I stopped by. The name’s Jacques Fortier and I have some business I wish to discuss with him.” Jacques walked toward his horse. After mounting, he headed the way Hickory had gone. He didn’t need to turn to know the shotgun was still aimed at his back. Phillippe caught up with him. “I could’ve taken him.” “And she’d have blown me to the next world.” He frowned. “Patience is best at the moment.” “You haven’t much time to be patient.” Phillippe pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Only ten days out of the fortnight remained. He had to get Genevieve and the necklace. “Come back after dark. If Monroe isn’t back, no one will offer resistance to the main house.” *

*

*

Maura jumped and looked around the dark room. Something had 136


roused her from her sleep, but she couldn’t place what it was. She heard the soft breaths of the babies and remembered. It had been years since she’d had to worry about anyone else at night. Arnou and Ilde, not having children of their own, would have slept through any noises the children made in the middle of the night. She listened to their soft breathing. They hadn’t awakened her. What had? Probably her nerves. With Coop gone and that strange man showing up, then Stevens coming by insisting he had to speak with Coop, an uneasy feeling had crept over her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something evil would happen. She’d had the feeling before. Just before Chesterfield had sold her two daughters and her husband. She could see them in her mind’s eye. Her heart still ached for them. It would until the day they laid her in the ground. Thanks to Coop, she didn’t have to worry about losing anymore of the ones she loved in such a manner. Arnou would never leave her. Soon she’d have grandchildren to hold. Arnou’s children added to Coop’s. She was a very lucky lady. She heard the noise again. Throwing back the covers, she climbed out of bed and walked to the window, pulling back the red gingham curtains. A shadow fled across the yard. Had Hickory or Fortier returned to search the house for Becka? Or the necklace? Coop had taken the necklace with them so the rest of them would be safe. She was glad she’d insisted on bringing the children to her house instead of staying in the main house. After the man’s visit at dinner time, she’d had a nagging sensation which told her it would be safer here until Coop returned. Besides Jacob thought it a treat to get to sleep on Maura’s floor. When his ma had been sick, he’d done it. She’d take the babies more often, but Coop didn’t want to put her out. He didn’t understand how 137


much she enjoyed caring for them. A shiver ran through her and she grabbed the shotgun, staring out into the night, looking for the shadow. She didn’t want to wake Arnou for what might be an old woman’s imaginings. An orange glow caught her eye. “Oh, my God. Fire.” She ran for the bedroom door. Rushing into the hallway, she screamed. “Fire! Arnou, fire!”

138


CHAPTER 12

Cooper gripped the railing and let the breeze from the river caress his face. He’d never much liked traveling by water since his voyage from England and the last thing he wanted was to be sick in front of Becka. She placed a gloved hand over his white knuckles. “We shall be tying up for the night shortly.” “I know.” He shifted so his hip rested against the railing, liking the feeling of something secure next to him. Becka stared off toward the horizon. He watched the sun set, the horizon on fire as it moved lower in the sky. The brilliant oranges mixed with the green foliage along the river creating a fairyland. “Nervous?” She nodded. “A different life awaits me in New Orleans. I do not know if I wish to reclaim it.” Putting his arm around her, he pulled her close. “You won’t know until we find your family.” He gazed over the top of her head. He 139


wouldn’t wish to reclaim all his past life. At least not the part with the family who had sold him at twelve or with Chesterfield. He was glad to be shed of them. He hoped she wouldn’t feel the same way. She squeezed his hand. “What if I find…find…” “Find what?” “I do not know.” She trembled. “I might have a husband. Or even children.” She leaned her head back against him, pushing her hat forward. “What if I fell overboard because I was escaping something horrid?” “Then I’ll take you home with me until we can figure something else out.” He turned her, pushed her hat back and stared into her eyes. He could get lost in those eyes. “I would never leave you in danger. Besides, Sam’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Looking over at the large man who appeared to be staring across the river, he knew if he or Becka moved, Sam would move as their shadow. Becka. Her name was Genevieve. He should call her that, but the name stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to arrive in New Orleans either. Then he would have to face the fact Becka was not his and would never be a part of his life. He wanted the Becka who struggled in the fields, who tried to help with the cooking and the children. The Becka who smiled at him and lit his heart on fire as the sun did the horizon. She tugged at his sleeve. “Yes.” He blinked. “Do you promise?” “Promise what?” She smiled at him. “Where have you been?” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Woolgathering.” “About?” She leaned toward his touch. “What do you want me to promise?” He cupped her cheek with his hand. 140


Studying his face for a moment, she pulled her eyebrows together and pursed her lips. “That you will protect me if we find something horrid in New Orleans.” “Of course. I couldn’t abandon you if you were in danger.” Whether he loved her or not, he would never abandon a helpless woman in danger. “But I doubt you have anything to worry about.” “I have such a feeling of doom and horrible sadness.” He hugged her, hoping to hold onto her for a while longer, knowing the day after tomorrow they would be in New Orleans and she would be lost to him. But she felt so right next to him, as if she’d always been a part of his life. “Not knowing who you are or where you came from is enough to unsettle anyone.” “Do you think that is all it is?” The only thing he could be sure of was that life would change once again when they reached New Orleans. A ray of sunlight had come into his life when he’d found her on the shore. Now it was setting. He watched the sun dip beneath the horizon and the glow fade from the sky. “I believe so.” *

*

*

Jacques leaned back in his office chair aboard the Lady Belle and puffed on his cigar, watching the rings of smoke float upward, grow larger and dissipate. Genevieve and the necklace were out there. So close and he still didn’t have them in his possession. Phillippe had figured the fire would bring her and the necklace out, but no sign of Genevieve had been found. Damn. She had to be somewhere. His best guess was she was headed for her father. At first light, the Lady Belle would sail south. If she went to the Rawlings house, he would find her. He’d have the necklace and his problems would be solved. Except for the ten acres. If Monroe was helping Genevieve, then he 141


might not want to sell the land, but Phillippe could be persuasive. Besides, once the hick got to New Orleans and saw how Genevieve lived, he probably wouldn’t want to return to his lousy little farm anyway. He owned only a couple of slaves. Genevieve’s father didn’t have much left. He barely could keep himself alive. He’d never be able to support her and Monroe. She’d probably go back to her aunt in France. Monroe could disappear. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about him signing over the property. A knock sounded at his door. He sat forward and took a sip of his whiskey. “Enter.” A large black man dressed in a black suit and white shirt opened the door, filling the entry. “There’s a Mister Stevens here. He wants ta see ya.” The man folded his arms across his chest. Jacques smiled at Jeffrey. With him as a body guard, Jacques felt able to sleep in peace. “Show him in.” Maybe Stevens brought good news. Stevens entered the room as Jeffrey stepped back. Jacques motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat. What do you need?” As Stevens edged toward the chair, he glanced around the room. Perching on the edge, he smiled at the other man, the smile wavering. “It’s not what I need as much as what you need.” Fortier took another sip of his whiskey. He should offer Stevens a glass, but he didn’t want him to stay long enough to drink it. “Do you have what I need?” Stevens had promised him the deed to the ten acres, but he doubted he’d had time to talk with Monroe before he took the woman to New Orleans. Stevens pulled out a folded piece of paper from his inside coat pocket. “I told you I’d have the deed to the land within two weeks.” He smiled again, but his fingers picked at the edge of the paper. Before he reached for the paper, Jacques stared at him for a 142


moment. He wanted to rip the paper from Stevens’ hand, but held his impatience in check. Stevens held it for a second, then relinquished it. Jacques unfolded the paper and smoothed out the creases. He stared at it. Sure enough Monroe’s signature graced the bottom deeding the ten acres by the river to Stevens. He looked up. The little weasel had managed it. “How’d you get him to sign these over to you?” Drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair, Stevens continued to smile. “I told you I would accomplish it. You didn’t believe I could.” He raised his chin. Jacques admitted he’d never thought Stevens would convince Monroe to sell the land. Standing, he walked over to the bar. “Care for a whiskey?” Stevens nodded. “That would be nice.” He set the glass in front of Stevens. “How did you get the deed?” “Monroe needed traveling money.” Stevens took a sip from the glass, then ran his tongue over his top lip. “Seems he was in a bit of a hurry to get to New Orleans and after he’d spent all his money on buying slaves, he didn’t have the cash.” Draining his glass, he held it out. Jacques studied Stevens before rising to refill the glass. His stomach tightened. Could his luck be turning again? Could this be an omen that he would finally find the necklace and build his dream town? Sitting, he pulled out a piece of paper from his desk drawer. “Two hundred dollars, right?” Stevens nodded, clutching his glass in his hand. “Plus ten percent of the shipping, hotel, restaurant and gambling establishments in this new town of yours.” He threw the amber liquid down his throat and sighed, laying his hand on the arm of the chair. Jacques wrote out the deed and signed it, passing it to Stevens. After Stevens scrawled his name across the bottom, Jacques took the deed and slipped it into his desk. He’d record it, then he’d find a way to 143


get the ten percent back from Stevens. He took a sip of his whiskey and enjoyed the warmth and flavor. His luck had returned. His fortune would not be lost. *

*

*

She smiled at Cooper over the edge of her glass, enjoying being alone with him. He’d brought her to a restaurant near the riverboat landing. Round tables covered with blue linen tablecloths filled the place. Pewter candlesticks held candles that gave off a faint bayberry fragrance. The odor of cooking food came from the kitchen, the smells mixing together to entice the diners. Heavy blue velvet drapes hung to the sides of the windows making it possible to see the moonlit street and the glint of light in the windows across the way. They wouldn’t let Sam in, but the owner had given him a plate of food. Sam stood outside, leaning against the wall and peering in, watching them, the same expressionless look on his face. She smiled at Sam. “If anyone suspicious comes near me, I fear he will come through the window to my rescue.” Cooper shifted in his seat to look at Sam and nodded. “Undoubtedly. He’s taken a liking to you.” He took her hand, stroking the soft part near her thumb. She liked the sensations running up her arm and settling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her. She wanted his touch. Her body burned with the desire to be near him. She looked downward to hide her thoughts, but she let him caress her hand. When she was with Cooper, she felt safe. She could fit into his life and ask for nothing else. She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out who Genevieve Rawlings was. “He seems to have become very loyal.” She sat back as the waitress brought their food and set a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes in front of her. A feeling of loss rushed through her as Cooper broke his touch. Cooper broke open one of his crawfish and pulled out the meat. 144


When the waitress had disappeared, she leaned forward again. “Do you suppose I am eating some of the chickens we raise?” The “we” slipped as easily from her mouth as though she had always been with Cooper. She looked into his gray eyes hoping to see something that told her how he felt about her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d fallen in love with him. Already she missed Maura and the others. Megan’s giggles always made her feel warm inside. Jacob’s serious looks when he explained work to her made her want to laugh and hug him, but she knew better. He was so small, but so proud of what he could do. Arnou and Ilde loved each other so much. Anyone could see it in the way they looked at each other and the stolen touches when they thought no one watched. She wanted to be part of that family. A family filled with love and caring. They would take Sam in and make him part of the family. Cooper would probably even procure a wife for him. But her. She was an outsider because she came from a background different than theirs. It seemed her family was rich and she hadn’t ever been exploited. She wanted to stay with Cooper. More than just the love in his family made her want to stay, but she didn’t know if she had the right to do so. She could be betrothed and would have to return to her prospective husband. Or even married. The thought made a shiver run down her back. She would miss all of them, but Cooper the most. His touch on her hand made her jump. She looked at her plate, hoping her face hadn’t turned red. “Now it’s your turn to woolgather.” He stroked her wrist. “Want to tell me?” “I was thinking about what I might find when we get to New Orleans. A part of me is excited. I shall find my family and know if I 145


truly have a sister and a father, or if they are nothing more than ghosts who inhabit my dreams. I shall know how I came to be in the river.” She shivered and reached for her wine, hoping it would push away the coldness that threatened to consume her. She clung to Cooper’s hand, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed. “A bigger part is terrified at what I might find.” He brushed lightly across the palm of her hand. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.” She let his touch warm her. “You’re frowning again.” He squeezed her hand. “I cannot help but worry about what awaits us…me, when we arrive in…” “You can’t change what you’ll find, but don’t be overly worried about it before we get to your home. Your parents will be delighted to see you.” “I hope.” She forced herself to smile at him “You want some pie?” She nodded her head and he raised his hand to signal the waitress. After ordering three pieces of pie, he released her hand and leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. “What do you know about Jacques Fortier?” He looked at her over the rim of his glass. “Nothing. The name means nothing more than the name Genevieve Rawlings.” He sipped at his wine for a moment, then leaned forward. “You don’t suppose you’re married to the man?” She shook her head. “I have no idea.” “From what I saw of him, I would hope not. He seems to be an unsavory character. Do you think he’s involved with you in some manner?” “Maybe my family hired him to find me.” 146


Cooper set his glass on the table, then steepled his fingers. “I think not. He doesn’t seem the type to do the bidding of others. From what I saw, he ordered people about. And with a thousand-dollar reward for the return of you and the necklace, he must want you and the jewelry very badly.” She shivered. “Maybe that is why I feel danger, and the feeling becomes stronger the closer we get to New Orleans.” He leaned forward. “You have the necklace someplace safe?” She nodded. She hadn’t wanted to leave it on the riverboat unattended, so she had it in the pocket of her petticoat. As long as Sam was about, no one would get it from her. He cut into the piece of blueberry pie the waitress had set in front of him and chewed for several seconds. “We must be careful. The necklace is worth a great deal. We can’t chance having it stolen.” “I have no intentions of being parted from it.” She looked at the berry pie and pushed it away, glancing past him. “Here comes Sam.” Cooper stood and turned toward the door. “What’s wrong?” The owner appeared next to her and pointed to Sam. “He can’t be in here.” Sam stopped next to her, but looked at Cooper. “Hickory.” “Where?” Cooper looked toward the window, his hands forming fists at his side. “He has to leave,” snapped the owner. “Across.” Sam pointed toward the street. “Saloon.”

147


CHAPTER 13

Cooper kept his arm around Becka as they boarded the riverboat. His heart hammered in his chest. Sweat formed on his palms and his stomach knotted, but he forced himself to walk slowly. He didn’t want to alert anyone that something might be wrong. Nor did he wish to frighten Becka anymore than she was. Sam dogged their steps, no more than a hairbreadth behind. Cooper lifted Becka down the step onto the deck and led her back toward their cabins. “Do you think he is following us?” She stared into his eyes, trembling against him. He saw fear. “Probably. We can only hope to make it to New Orleans without running abreast of Hickory.” He pulled her to a stop outside her cabin door. It swung open with the gentle swaying of the boat. Shoving her behind him, he hissed, “Someone’s been here. I’ll bet it was Hickory.” 148


Sam shoved past Cooper and into the tiny cabin. A bunk was anchored to one wall and an armoire to another. Other than the necessary, not much else was in the room except for one of Becka’s dresses hanging on a peg on the wall. The rest of her belongings had been thrown apart, her carpet bag turned inside out and the mattress on her bed ripped apart. “Empty.” Sam turned to stare at Cooper. He waved a hand in an arch. “I clean.” He bent to pick up the mattress. Goose down feathers spurted from a rip and filled the air like a heavy snow storm. “Whoa.” Cooper coughed and batted at the white floating feathers. “We’ll get someone from the boat to get a new mattress and take care of this.” He pulled Becka to him. He had to get Becka to her family. It seemed a very long way to New Orleans. He looked deep into her eyes. She looked ready to panic, a brightness coming to her eyes as she blinked back tears. He held her close. Her heart beat rapidly against him, matching his own. He stroked her back, letting the feel of her anchor him. He had to protect her. He kissed her cheek and rubbed away a tear. “It’s all very upsetting, I know. But you have Sam to protect you until we get to New Orleans.” She pushed herself away from him. “Are you sure?” He nodded his head, but he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything except her name was Genevieve Rawlings and she was about to go out of his life. “Sam, stay with Becka while I go find the captain. If anyone comes near her… Well, you know.” Sam nodded. “She safe.” He patted the ripped mattress on the bed. “Sit.” She smiled at him, walked over and sat, smoothing her skirt over her lap. “Thank you.” He tugged at his ear and studied his feet as he shuffled on the beige carpet. Cooper laughed and went to find the captain. 149


*

*

*

The scream cut through his sleep like a knife through tender plant stems. Cooper shot straight up in bed and slipped as the boat lurched and banged against the wharf. He scrambled to his feet and hit the deck in an almost standing position. Becka’s screams came louder and he realized the door to her cabin was ajar. In the near dark, he saw a hulking form near the door. “It’ll be fine, Sam. She’s just having a nightmare. I’ll tend to her.” The big man looked at him with wide eyes. “No one here.” “I know.” He pushed past Sam. “Shut the door. She’ll wake the whole damn boat.” He padded to her bedside and scooped her into his arms. “Hush, Becka. Hush.” She sobbed for a moment, clawing at his arms. She went rigid, then relaxed. “I did not mean to waken you.” “I hope you didn’t wake everyone else.” A door slammed down the hall and footsteps sounded. He heard a murmur of voices outside the door. “I’d better find out who’s there before Sam scares them to death.” He lit a lamp and slipped out onto the deck, nodding to the captain and two women in wrappers standing just out of Sam’s reach. “I’m sorry about the commotion.” He inclined his head toward the door. “She’s prone to nightmares.” He smiled, hoping he appeared sincere. “I wish to speak with the young lady.” The captain squared his shoulders and shot Cooper a look filled with disbelief. Sam stood with his legs spread, his arms crossed and his mouth turned down, blocking the doorway. “That man should be below decks,” the woman with the pink wrapper said. “He looks dangerous.” She took a step back. “I insist on seeing Miss Rawlings.” The captain took a step toward Cooper, glanced at Sam and took a step back. Cooper refrained from smiling. No one was getting into Becka’s 150


cabin without his say so. No one. He opened the door behind him. “Becka,” he called softly. “The captain wants to speak with you.” She pulled her blue linen wrapper around her and stood, holding the door frame on the partially opened door. “Please accept my apologies. I did not mean to bother anyone in the middle of the night.” She clutched the front of her wrapper with shaking hands. “Such horrible dreams plague my sleep. I do not realize I call out.” “You nearly scared the life out of me.” The second woman tucked her graying hair beneath her nightcap. “I thought someone was being killed.” She tsked and turned back toward her cabin. The captain removed his hat and inclined his head toward Becka. “You’re certain that you’re unharmed?” “Ouì. It is nothing more than a bad dream.” He looked from Cooper to Sam and back to her, keeping out of arm’s reach of Sam. “These two men aren’t holding you hostage?” She giggled and put her hand to her mouth. “Heavens, no. They are my escorts. My bodyguards. They would do me no harm.” A look of uncertainty flashed across the captain’s face. “After what happened this afternoon, I cannot be too careful.” Cooper groaned. What an idiot. “I was the one who reported the break-in.” The captain looked him up and down. “You had your breeches on earlier.” Cooper felt the heat creep up his face. He forced himself not to fold his arms over his bare chest. He couldn’t help it that she’d gotten him out of bed. “Shameful. Just shameful.” The woman in the pink wrapper shook her head. “This man—” She gestured at Sam. “—needs to be below decks with the rest of his kind. I don’t rightly feel safe with him wandering around this boat unchecked.” Sam edged toward Cooper, his gaze down. 151


“Sam’s not going anywhere away from Bec…Miss Rawlings. He’s going to stay right here, and make sure she’s safe and no strangers break into her cabin.” Cooper squared his shoulders. “Now, it’s time everyone went back to bed.” He pulled the door shut behind him, obscuring Becka from the view of the others. The woman humphed and turned back toward her cabin. “Most unusual. Slaves belong below deck, not blocking the walkway.” The captain stood for a moment, made a sharp about face and left. Cooper let his shoulder’s sag. “What a night.” He opened the door and handed Becka the lantern. “Go to bed.” “I am not sleepy.” Her lips formed a thin line. Her hand holding the lamp shook. “I’ll sit with you so you’ll feel safe.” He flashed her a smile. Holding the door partway open, he turned to Sam. “Go sleep in my cabin.” Sam didn’t move. Cooper looked at him and stepped inside Becka’s cabin. He heard Sam slide down the outside of the door and settle against it. All tucked in safe for the night. No one, not even Hickory, would get by Sam. He took the lamp from Becka and set it on top of the armoire. “Do you want me to see if I can get some hot tea or something?” “No. I shall be fine with the light.” She sat on the edge of the bunk, her wrapper falling open and exposing the soft white linen underneath. He stared at her. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep.” She scooted over on the bed and patted the mattress next to her. “Lay with me a while. We are but two days from New Orleans and I fear the dreams will return. The man who is my father looks so sad. The woman whom I think is my sister looks tormented. When I close my eyes, I can see them. I want to reach out to them, but I fear touching 152


them.” Cooper lay and pulled her close to him, brushing the tears from her eyes. “You’re just nervous about meeting your family.” “I wish I could remember them when I am awake. Then maybe they would not be so frightening.” She nestled her head against his shoulder. He brushed her hair from the side of her face, rubbing his hand across her cheek. “Two days and you’ll know the truth.” She placed her hand over his. “I do not know if I am ready to know.” She peeked into his face. “I have found a ‘truth’ that is quite pleasant.” “Farm life isn’t so pleasant as you want to believe. It’s very hard and wears a body down.” He hugged her and his body responded to her closeness. He wanted her again, but already he may have left her with a babe she wouldn’t be able to explain and she had another life to go to. “You come from a much easier existence. Once you find your family, you’ll realize that’s where you belong. That you’ll be happier there.” She pulled away from him and studied his face for several moments. “Do you wish to be shed of me?” Never. He wanted to keep her with him always, a part of his life. He wanted her safe and taken care of in a way he couldn’t. “It has nothing to do with what I want.” She stroked the side of his face. “Kiss me.” “I should go back to my cabin.” He looked at her lips, so warm and inviting. “We shall soon be in New Orleans, but tonight I want you to hold me.” She kissed him, pressing her lips against his, her tongue flicking across his mouth, demanding entrance. He hugged her and caressed her back, her warmth coming through the linen nightdress. Her breasts burned against his bare chest. Too soon she would go back to being Genevieve Rawlings. Tonight he would hold Becka. He pulled her nightdress up so he could feel her 153


bare skin. He ran his hands over her legs and hips. She broke the kiss and rolled onto her back. He touched the wetness between her legs and stiffened. She fondled him and he gasped. “Come to me.” She held up her arms to him. He knelt over her. She smiled at him and encircled him with her legs. “I want you,” he whispered. He entered her slowly. Using her heels, she forced him deeper into her. He gripped the sheets beside her head and swallowed the groan that threatened to escape as he plunged in and out of her. Her nails dug into his back. He felt her tighten around him. He plunged one last time into her, then covered her mouth with his, stifling the moans that came from both of them. *

*

*

She stayed close to Cooper and Sam and watched as the other passengers disembarked. There weren’t many, mostly a few couples, the two maiden ladies who had appeared at her door two nights before and some gamblers, ready for a change from the riverboat tables. Cooper helped her step onto the gangplank and steadied her as it swayed. She wobbled, glad for his hand at her waist. Sam followed a few steps behind them, carrying their bags. She studied the docks where several other ships were docked. Sailors attended to tasks, coiling ropes, cleaning decks and loading supplies. She stepped over a rope lying on the dock and stepped aside so Cooper and Sam could step onto the dock. “What do we do now?” Cooper kept his arm around her as he looked around. “If you’re family has money, someone has to know where they live.” He shrugged. “We ask.” “But who?” A cold chill ran down her back even though the sun warmed the air around her. They’d reached New Orleans in one piece, but the fear seemed to mount, not lessen. Her stomach roiled and she 154


felt seasick, but the ground beneath her had become firm. She pushed away any thoughts of what she might find. “Downtown. In the business district. Where there are banks.” She leaned back against him for a moment. “I feel like I could jump out of my skin from not knowing what will happen next.” Cooper pulled her to him and hugged her. “What you find won’t be so bad.” “Then we best start our search.” She heaved a sigh and moved from his arms. Her right to his comfort was ending with their arrival in New Orleans. How long would Cooper stay after they found her family? Would he say, “Here, I returned your daughter. I’ve a farm and a family to tend so I’ll be on my way.” She would find a reason for him to stay. At least for a bit. Then maybe she could convince him to let her return with him to a place that had become home. “Have we any money to find a place for the night if we cannot find my family?” “I have some. We won’t be staying any place fancy.” He tugged at his tie. “Come on, Sam. We’d best see if we can find Becka’s home.” She took Cooper’s arm as they walked down the wharf. When she didn’t hear Sam’s lumbering steps behind them, she stopped and turned. “What’s wrong, Sam? You can’t stay here.” He looked at her, his brown eyes wide, then he bowed his head. “Shoes pinch. Tie too tight.” She stared at him, then laughed. All the pent up fears and uncertainties flowed forth with the laughter. “I’m with him.” Cooper waved, indicating Sam should follow them. “Believe me, I feel like I’m strangling all the time.” He placed his hand over hers on his arm. “Shall we?” He inclined his head toward the street. “We have to be able to find a carriage to take us somewhere.” She staggered a bit, still laughing, as they trudged forward. They stopped as public carriages discharged their passengers ready to take 155


the riverboats, or the large sailing ships to France and England. Cooper released her arm and stepped forward to try and catch a carriage. He stopped as a tall, well-dressed man stepped out. He turned and grabbed her, shoving her behind a stack of luggage. “I’ve seen that man…with Fortier.” Her knees buckled. Cooper grabbed one arm. Sam dropped the bags to grab the other. “Could they have followed us?” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “They’re looking for you.” He peered around the luggage. “We have to be careful and not let him see us.” She clutched Cooper’s arm as she watched the man stroll down the wharf and aboard a riverboat. A sigh escaped her and she sagged against Cooper. “Genevieve. Genevieve Rawlings?” A woman’s high pitched voice came from behind her. She whipped around. A woman of about her own age, dressed in a deep green linen traveling dress holding a green-and-white striped parasol stood with her mouth hanging open, her face blanched white. “Why, as I live and breath, it is you, Genevieve.” The woman put her hand to her mouth and swayed. “But it can’t be. You’re dead. Drowned.” A handsome gentleman in a gray suit grabbed the woman before she fell. He stared, his eyes wide. “She is real, darling. I’m sure. You aren’t seeing a ghost.” “But…but…” She clung to him. “Genevieve, you gave me such a start. I’m so glad you weren’t drowned.” The woman stepped closer and threw her arms around her. She stepped back and inspected her, wrinkling her nose. “Everyone was most upset at the news of your death, especially your father. Poor man. After all he’s been through, he’ll be so happy to see you.” 156


So she did have a father. One who had missed her. She should be thankful for that. “I nearly did, but Mr. Monroe here.” She pulled him to stand next to her. “He found me washed up on his riverbank and rescued me.” The woman drew her eyebrows together. “That would explain the clothing.” Cooper’s smile was forced. “We’re going on a trip, but we’ll have to visit when we return. The end of next week would be good. I’m sure that once Virginia hears you’ve returned, you’ll be invited to her soiree.” The woman hugged her again. “I am so glad you’re back. It was awful thinking such a terrible fate had befallen you.” The woman flashed her a smile. “I nearly canceled my trip up river to visit Thomas’s parents. He had to practically beg me to go.” “That’s the truth.” Thomas pulled his timepiece from his waist pocket and looked at it. Clicking it closed, he dropped it back into his pocket. “Dear, we must go. We don’t want the boat sailing without us.” “Don’t fret. Our baggage hasn’t been loaded.” She took his arm. “I’ll send ’round a note when we return.” Becka watched the woman. She should stop her and tell her she had no idea who she was or where to find her father. This woman could tell them everything they needed to know, but she couldn’t find her voice. The questions formed in her mind, but refused to be uttered. Cooper removed his hand and bowed his head to the woman. “Wait. We have a problem with which you can help us.” The woman lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him. “If you need money to return her home, the carriage will wait for payment until you arrive at her house.” Cooper bit his lip and his knuckles popped as he squeezed his hands together. “I have no need of money to return a lost lady to her home.” He glared at the woman and her husband. “Miss Genevieve hit her head 157


when she fell overboard.” The woman laid a hand on her arm. “You said you were fine.” “I am…” Cooper growled. “Except she can’t remember where she lives.”

158


CHAPTER 14

While Cooper paid the carriage driver, she stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at the three-story house that belonged to her father. Sam stood holding their carpet bags, staring at the toes of his shoes. The windows were covered with dirt and weeds choked the flower beds. Heavy drapes blocked out any sight of the interior. The house seemed to almost sag with heaviness and sadness. Her stomach fluttered as though butterflies filled it and all flapped their wings in unison. Her family waited on the other side of the door. A family she couldn’t remember and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Her dreams brought her fear and sadness. Would her real family do the same? She jumped as Cooper placed his hand at her waist. “Are you ready to go in?” She stared into his eyes. Would this also be good-bye to him? She shook her head. “I fear what I shall find. The house looks…so…” 159


“Run down?” “Sad.” “That’s what you’re feeling. A house can’t be sad.” Cooper tightened his hold at her waist. She wanted to lean against him, but knew she had to face what was behind that door by herself. Would her mother be thankful she had returned from the dead? Would her father be happy to see her? Or had she done something for which they had sent her away? “Come along. Standing in the street isn’t going to help.” He smiled at her. “Whatever’s on the other side of the door we’ll face together, then decide what to do.” “If they do not want me…” She rubbed her hands down her skirt, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. She should walk up the stairs and draw the bell pull, but her legs wouldn’t move. He gave her a quick hug before he pushed her toward the door. “I can’t believe they won’t be ecstatic to see you.” He helped her up the steps that needed sweeping and rapped on the front door. She held her breath waiting for someone to answer. Finally the door creaked open and a short white woman, dressed in black with a white apron and white cap covering her brown hair, peeked around the door, apprehension showing on her face. “May I help you?” “I wish to…” “Oh, my heavens.” The woman’s face blanched. “Miss Genevieve. It can’t be. Mr. Rawlings, come…” The woman slumped to the floor, her fingers sliding down the side of the door. “I’d say we’re in the right place.” Cooper pushed the door open and hunkered down next to the woman. He lifted her head and patted her cheeks. “Ma’am. Ma’am, wake up.” He glanced up. “Do you know her?” She shook her head. “I do not seem to remember her.” 160


The door flew open and a tall man dressed in a rumpled coat and dingy shirt stormed into the hall. “Mrs. Kincaid, can’t you even…” He took a step toward Mrs. Kincaid, stopped, turned white and grabbed the door frame. “Genevieve,” he whispered. Mrs. Kincaid sat up and fanned her face. “It can’t be.” The man’s eyes widened, staring. “Papa?” She looked at him. He resembled the man in her dreams, but she wasn’t positive. She never remembered details as much as a sense of sadness. “I thought you dead!” He took a step forward, then rushed across the entry way and gathered her into his arms. “I thought you were dead.” As he held her, his tears dampened her forehead. She hesitated, then hugged him. Her father? Happy to have her home? Why couldn’t she remember him? He put an arm around her waist. “Come. Sit. Mrs. Kincaid, do you feel able to make us some tea?” He ushered her toward the room from which he had come. Stopping, he turned. “I apologize.” He extended his hand to Cooper. “I’m Frederick Rawlings. I thank you for returning my daughter to me. I feared I had lost her forever.” “Cooper Monroe.” Cooper shook Frederick’s hand. “I have a daughter of my own. I would be frantic if I didn’t know her fate and thought something terrible had befallen her.” She let her father take her into the room. It smelled musty and in need of airing. The heavy green velvet drapes were drawn. A lamp with a round, pink, flowered glass glowed, pushing the ghostly shadows to the corners. A chill ran through her. Mrs. Kincaid brought a silver tea service and set it on a dusty cherry wood table in front of the green satin settee. She collapsed in a matching wing chair across from the table and fanned her face with a white handkerchief. 161


“I shall pour.” Becka perched on the edge of the settee and poured a cup of tea for Mrs. Kincaid. She looked as though she could use one. Then she handed her father one. Her hands trembled and she nearly upset the blue china cup in his lap. Frederick set the cup aside and stared at her. “It really is you. I can’t believe you have returned to me.” Tears rimmed his eyes. “Fortier sent a message around that you had drowned.” She looked around the room searching for something familiar, something to tell her she was home. An unlit gray fireplace filled most of one wall, a massive dark wood mantle above it. A portrait of her father hung above the fireplace and two silver candlesticks, without candles, stood on each end of the mantle. A pianoforte stood angled in one corner, small frames on top. Dust coated the fine wood. An empty curio cabinet was placed in a corner near the fireplace. All of it seemed unfamiliar. She glanced at Cooper and patted the seat next to her. The darkness of the room seemed to press down on her and she wanted Cooper to take her into his arms and chase away the ghosts as he did when the nightmares frightened her. “I would have thought he would have had the courtesy to come and tell you such news in person.” Frederick shook his head. “He would show no courtesy to our family. He would only gloat at our sadness.” He took a sip of the tea. “However, his man Phillippe has come around several times to bring tobacco and whiskey. I couldn’t understand why. Not after how he cheated me. Maybe he’s a changed man. I should send Fortier a message to let him know you’re safe.” “No, Papa.” Somehow she knew Fortier hadn’t sent the tokens to ease her father’s pain or to show pity for him. Rather he’d sent Phillippe around to make sure she hadn’t come home. “No.” Cooper’s voice boomed and she jumped. Frederick stared at them, his mouth agape. “If you feel so strongly, 162


then I won’t inform him, but I don’t understand why? Phillippe seemed genuinely sorry about your death.” “I’m sure he did.” Cooper took her hand and squeezed it. “However, all Fortier cares about is the necklace.” “You have your mother’s necklace? The diamond and ruby one?” Frederick set his cup down and leaned forward, letting his feet slide from the green ottoman in front of his wing chair. “With that I can put nearly everything right.” Anticipation shone on his face. “What needs to be set right, Papa?” She shifted so her leg pressed against Cooper’s. Fear crowded into her, pushing out all feelings of safety and being home. Everyone wanted the necklace. No one really cared about her, except Cooper. Frederick waved his hand at her. “How did you get the necklace?” “I do not know. I just have it.” She poured herself a cup of tea. Where was the rest of her family? Did she not have a sister or had that only been part of the dream? And her mother? “But Fortier took the necklace as payment…” Frederick rubbed his upper lip then smiled. “If you have it…” “The necklace is not important.” She stood and walked over to the pianoforte and looked at the portraits displayed on it. He held out his hand. “Give me the necklace, Genevieve. I’ll put it where it is safe.” She leaned against the pianoforte. There must be some way to escape the nightmare and the necklace. “No, Papa.” “Not until she is safe from Fortier.” Cooper rose and went to stand next to her. Frederick gripped the arms of the chair. “You’ll do as you’re told, child.” “I am not a child, Papa.” She wouldn’t cry over what might have been a warm, welcoming reunion. She gripped Cooper’s arm. “Then don’t act like one.” Rawlings reached for his whiskey bottle 163


and splashed some into the tea. “I’ll have the necklace.” “Is the necklace more important than your daughter’s safety?” Cooper’s arm muscles bulged beneath her fingers. Rawlings glared at Cooper, then smiled at her. “Of course the necklace isn’t as important as having you back.” She stared at him. She had thought once she returned home and met her family her memory would return and she would know who she was. But the man sitting in the green wing chair smiling at her meant nothing. She had no idea who he was, or if she liked him. She could do nothing more than accept his word that she was his daughter. A tear came to her eye. Why couldn’t she remember? She glanced at Cooper. “You don’t remember, do you?” Cooper whispered. She shook her head. “I thought once you were home…” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “So did I.” “What’s the problem?” Rawlings drank down his tea. Cooper put his arm around her shoulder. “You’ll remember. Give it time.” “And if I don’t?” He shrugged. “I don’t know.” “How can I stay where I remember nothing?” She waved her hand in a circle. “This is not my home.” “Yes it is, Becka,” Cooper said in a hushed tone. “No, it is not.” And she didn’t want it to be. “What is the matter?” Frederick’s voice rose. “What are you conspiring about?” Cooper hugged her. “Your daughter had an accident. When she fell overboard, she hit her head and doesn’t remember who she is.” “What?” Frederick’s eyes got wider. “But that’s not possible. She must remember me.” 164


“No, Papa. I do not remember you or this house or Mrs. Kincaid or anything.” She waved her hands in the air. “We must summon the doctor. Surely he can do something for her.” Frederick stood and walked to her. He brushed the hair from her face. “I don’t wish to lose my daughter. Not after everything else.” “I don’t think a doctor can do much. The bump has gone away, but her memory hasn’t returned.” Cooper pulled her closer. She leaned against Cooper, drawing strength from him. At his farm she had felt safe despite those horrid men coming after her, but something in this place bore down on her and she wanted to leave. Frederick stared at Cooper. “How did you come to know my daughter? And why are you returning her? If it’s for a reward, I have nothing to give you.” Cooper’s arm tightened around her waist. “If I wanted a reward, I’d have turned her over to Fortier. I want nothing more than to see her safe with her family.” His eyebrows drew together and a frown creased his face. “Take your arm from my daughter. It’s unseemly.” Frederick drew himself up and glared at Cooper. “Papa, Cooper will not hurt me. He has protected me.” “It’s unseemly unless the man plans to offer to take you as his wife.” Frederick crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t have your reputation damaged. That and my name will still secure you a wealthy husband. Even at your age. A marriage that will restore my—” “Papa, he has rescued me. At least you could give him your thanks.” “He’s right, Becka. You’re home and you must think about your reputation.” His voice crackled with anger. “I want to know how my daughter came into your care.” Frederick scowled. “You’d best not have taken advantage of her.” “Papa!” She’d come back from the dead and all her father seemed 165


to care about was the necklace and if he could marry her off for money. Cooper told him the story of finding Genevieve and what had transpired to bring them to the Rawling’s home. Frederick let his hands fall to his sides. “I suppose I should thank you.” “Ouì, Papa, you should. He could have sold me to Monsieur Fortier for a thousand dollars. Instead, he paid my way home after clothing and caring for me. And never has he been anything but a gentleman.” Or nearly never, but not so very much. Frederick stomped back and sat. “Then I thank him, but I can’t reward him.” “He needs no reward, Papa.” She turned back to the pictures on the table. “Who are these?” She pointed to two women—one older, wearing the necklace, and one younger than herself. She recognized her own photograph. “They’re your sister and your mother. You don’t recognize them?” His brows turned down as she looked back at him. “No more than I recognize you.” He clasped his hands in his lap and stared at them for a moment. “But you call me Papa.” “You call me Genevieve. Therefore I must assume I am your daughter, since I can see no reason why you would claim so if it were not true.” “You’re my daughter and I’m glad you’ve returned.” Frederick picked up his pipe. She stared into the cold gray fireplace. Her father seemed so sad, even though she had returned. “Where is Mama?” Frederick stared at his pipe for a moment. “She is in France visiting her sister. The one you stayed with for the last six years.” He glanced up at her. “And my sister?” 166


“Arabella.” He drank his whiskey straight from the bottle. “Gone.” “Where?” If she could see her sister, maybe she could remember. He sighed and clunked the bottle against the table. “Gone. Like your mother.” To what had she returned? Most of her family had departed. Only a broken father was left. She looked to Cooper, blinking back tears. She had come home to emptiness. The same emptiness she felt every time the dreams invaded her. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to return home. Cooper gave her a warm smile that said all would be well, but she wanted to run. Run from the sadness permeating the house. Run from the sadness coming from her father. She didn’t know how to comfort him. She didn’t know how to love him. Cooper took her arm. “Maybe it’s time to rest. Your father can answer the rest of your questions later.” “I have no rooms made up.” Mrs. Kincaid forced herself out of the chair with a great deal of grunting. “No help around and I have to get supper on. Can’t fix up rooms for all of you.” She humphed. Wiping her eyes, Becka laid her hand on Cooper’s arm. “I cannot cook, but I can change a bed. I shall take care of the rooms.” “Fine.” Mrs. Kincaid stomped from the room, letting the parlor door slam behind her. She stared at the door for a moment, then heaved a sigh. She hadn’t been gone from home so long her room would need much care, but Cooper and Sam would need a place to sleep. She turned back to her father. He sat, shoulders sagging as though all joy had left the world. “Papa, why was I on the riverboat?” He glanced at her, then back toward the wall. “To get your mother’s necklace back.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “And you have done so.” But not without putting her life in danger. Her father would offer no protection. Cooper rested his hand on her shoulder. Cooper couldn’t 167


leave her. Not yet. *

*

*

Becka sat up with a start, a cold sweat covering her body. She strained to hear in the darkness. With the drapes pulled, the blackness was complete. She thought she’d heard someone in the house. She listened, but heard nothing. Maybe she’d been dreaming and the dream had caused her to awaken, but it was a different feeling. She slipped from beneath the covers and chattered as the night air caressed her damp body. Grabbing her wrapper and donning it, she lit a candle. The shadows played about the room increasing the eerie feeling. She trembled. Cooper was two rooms away. Sam was somewhere near at hand. She’d tried to get him to use one of the first floor rooms in the back, but he’d insisted upon staying where he could hear anyone coming or going. She picked up the candle and crept to the door. It creaked as she opened it to peek into the hallway. The only light was the thin strand from her candle. She didn’t see anything untoward. Down the front stairway she could hear Sam’s soft snore. The sound made her feel a bit safer. She should return to her bed and sleep. The fanciful thoughts had been caused by her arrival home. She was safe in her father’s house. She stepped into the hallway and tiptoed to Cooper’s door. Rapping gently, she opened the door a crack. “Cooper, are you awake?” She heard a grumble. He was probably as fast asleep as Sam was. Neither of them feared anything. She should return to her room. Something crashed downstairs and a small squeak escaped her. “Miss Becka, you fine?” Sam’s voice made her jump and she covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn’t noticed the cease of his snoring. “I am fine.” He stood at the top of the steps, unmoving. 168


“I heard something.” “In kitchen.” “Go and look, please.” She’d feel better if she knew who was moving about. “You in room. Lock door.” She should return to her room, but the darkness was so oppressive and she couldn’t bear the idea of being alone. The door to Cooper’s room swung open causing her to squeak again. “What’s going on out here?” He rubbed at his eyes. The nervousness receded with the sound of his voice. “We heard a noise in the kitchen. Sam is going to investigate as soon as I go in my room.” She didn’t want to be alone. Not if someone was in the house. “Come in here while he investigates.” Cooper pulled her into his room. His touch warmed her. The lamp emitted a soft glow and the shadows didn’t seem so threatening. She let him take her into his arms.

169


CHAPTER 15

As Cooper held Becka, he pushed the door shut with his foot. She trembled against him. It made him uneasy to think someone might have come into the house. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” He rubbed her back, wanting to kiss her, but knowing he shouldn’t. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Shall I ever feel safe again?” “Once all of this becomes familiar.” She pushed away and stood in the middle of the room. Her arms outstretched, she swung around. “Why cannot I remember anything? I should remember my mother and my sister, but I look at their pictures and they are strangers to me. Yet my sister visits me in my dreams to warn me, but warn me of what?” “I’m sure nothing.” Other than her father having suffered from financial problems, Cooper had heard no reason for her to be afraid of 170


anything but Fortier. “With the necklace and the marriage your father plans, your father will be able to restore his finances, then everything will be as it was before.” She looked at him and blinked. “But what was before?” “From the looks of this house, you lived a very pampered life filled with everything you could possibly want.” He touched her sleeve. “Even your nightdress is of the very finest linen.” He’d never be able to give her anything nearly so nice and where on his farm would she wear her silk dresses? “What if I do not like this man my father has betrothed me to?” Her mouth turned down at the corners and her shoulders sagged. “What if he is a monster and that is what my sister was trying to warn me about?” She looked frightened. The same look she had had when he’d found her on the riverbank. “Your sister is with your mother. I can’t imagine what she would have to warn you about this man.” Cooper reached out to her. “Your father seems to sincerely have your best interests at heart.” Becka hugged herself and turned away from him. “Why are you so sure what my father has planned is best for me?” “The man he chooses for you to marry can give you the pretty things you deserve.” “But can he give me love?” A pain shot through his heart. He would take Sam and they would take a boat back up the river in the next day or two. He wouldn’t stay and watch her belong to another man. “Love isn’t so important as luxury. Luxury doesn’t wear a body down or break the soul.” She studied him a moment. “Would you trade your family for the wealth this house promises?” “No.” His life would stop without his children and Maura. Their love sustained him. Without them, nothing would matter. “But it’s 171


different for you.” “Why is it different? Love is not important for me?” He looked toward the window where the heavy drapes blocked out the light of the moon and any noise from the street. He missed the sounds of the farm and the moonlight streaming into his bedroom. “Of course love is important. Your father loves you.” He sighed and looked back at her. He wanted her. He needed her in his arms as much as he needed the sounds of his farm. “But you should be pampered. You shouldn’t be where there are no women to chat with, or dances and teas to attend.” “Maura and Ilde are there.” “They can’t take care of you. There’s too much work to do.” “They need not care for me. They would be company.” “Wouldn’t you miss the teas and social events you can attend here in New Orleans?” “I cannot miss what I do not remember.” “But you’ll remember, and when you do you’ll resent being trapped on a small farm where there’s little in the way of amenities.” “Your home has the feel of a home. It is filled with love and warmth. There is such a feeling of…of happiness. Why is that not better than amenities?” “We know nothing but hard work. All our lives we’ve toiled until our backs ached and hands were blistered. I was but twelve when my parents no longer had use for me and sold me to Chesterfield to help tend his horses. I cleaned stalls and brushed horses until I thought my arms would fall from their sockets. “Maura was born in Georgia. She worked the fields from when she was about four just as Ilde and Arnou did. If they didn’t do their work, the master beat them as Chesterfield beat me. We had no rights.” Cooper took in a deep breath. “But now what we have is ours and though the work is as hard, we do it because we choose to.” He crossed 172


his arms over his chest. His right to hold her and lay with her was gone. She was back in her father’s home. “But if any of us had the choice, it wouldn’t be to toil in the hot sun day in and out with no change in sight. ’Twould be better if we could sit and enjoy life sipping tea and conversing.” “Would you really be happier?” “I don’t know.” “You have a daughter. Is she not worthy of being pampered?” “If I could, I would. She was born to the farm and has little choice. If I can find a rich man who will marry her and provide for her the things I can’t, then I’ll arrange such a marriage. If she is as comely as her mother, that shouldn’t be so hard.” “What if she wishes to marry the neighboring farmer?” “Why would anyone wish to marry a farmer when they can live in the city where things are easier?” “To find love.” “Love goes. It dies and takes part of the soul with it.” “It does not have to.” Her eyes beseeched him. She reached out for him, putting her arms around him. He hugged her. She tilted her head back and looked into his face. Stretching up, she kissed him, long and deep. The kiss touched him to the bottom of his soul. Another part of his soul would stay with her. Love demanded too great a price. He would attempt to be shed of it when he left her behind and he’d try never to think of her again. A soft knocking sounded at the door. Becka jumped and put her hand to her heart. “He moves so silently for such a large man. I did not even hear the creak from the stairs and I know they creak.” Cooper released her and opened the door. “Anyone?” “Stool over in kitchen,” Sam said in hushed tones. 173


“What would have knocked it over?” Becka put her arm around Cooper. “Maybe your father went for some water and knocked into it. He’d had so much to drink by the time supper was over, he could hardly stand.” “He must be abed. I would hardly think he would stir before noon.” “Was the door to the back of the house open?” “Locked,” said Sam. Cooper thought for a moment. If someone had broken in, surely he would have done more than knock over a stool. Besides, no one knew they were here, did they? Had Becka’s father sent a message around to Fortier? Was Fortier even in New Orleans? Cooper had left him up river and he hadn’t looked in any hurry to return to the city. “It was probably nothing.” Sam grunted and settled on the top of the stairs. “You’d best go back to your room and get some sleep.” Cooper kissed her forehead. She slipped her arms around him. “I do not want to be alone.” She reached up to kiss him. He pushed her away with gentle hands. “This isn’t right. You’re promised to another.” “I do not care. I do not want this life my father offers.” “It’s for your good.” “It is not your choice to decide what is for my own good.” “No, but it is your father’s.” “He cares for nothing but the necklace and the price he can sell me for to better his own fortunes.” She stomped toward the door. “And you care nothing but for your own self-pity.” She turned at the door. “And self-righteousness.” She slammed the door, rattling the pictures on the wall. Cooper leaned his forehead against the door. It would be better for 174


her if she were angry with him when he left. Then she wouldn’t pine. She would be grateful for the marriage her father would make for her. His body tightened. It wouldn’t realize that she belonged to another. He slapped his hand against the door. He shouldn’t have let her into his heart. Tomorrow he would leave. *

*

*

Stopping at the bottom of the steps, she glanced toward the parlor. Her father sat with his bottle of whiskey liberally splashing it in his tea. He looked over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. “Daughter, why aren’t you dressed?” His hand shook and his eyes were red. Even though it was but eleven, he already had drunk too much. She stared at him. “Dressed for what?” “I told you Henry Westcott would be joining us for dinner. I want you to look your best, and that farm dress isn’t proper.” “I like this dress.” “You have a nice linen morning dress that would be perfect.” He frowned. “You look like one of the servants.” “What servants?” Her tone sounded harsh even to her ear. She hadn’t meant to snap at her father, but she was getting a headache and tired of being told what to do. “Daughter, that cannot be helped. Mrs. Kincaid does the best she can to improve our appearance so Westcott doesn’t think we’re destitute.” He glared and sat forward in the chair, placing his cup on the table next to him. “But now with the necklace and your matrimony possibilities, that happenstance will change.” “I do not care about our appearance.” Her father raised his hand then let it drop. “Genevieve, don’t bring anymore unhappiness upon this house. Do as you’re directed like a good daughter.” She didn’t want to be a good daughter. She wanted to go back to the 175


farm where people loved her with Cooper. She didn’t mind working in the fields. With a little time she would even be able to match Jacob’s speed. She missed him and Maura. So fast they had become a part of her life. They had taken her in and offered her love. Her father. He offered her marriage and a way out of his financial problems. “Genevieve, upstairs now. Mr. Westcott will be here any time.” He pointed toward the upper part of the house. She didn’t wish to obey him, but she knew not what else to do. Besides, she had no reason to be rude to Mr. Westcott. She didn’t yet know the man. “All right, Papa. I shall go and change.” He tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat. “The necklace. Last night you said you had put it somewhere safe. I need you to get it and return it to me.” She restrained herself from reaching into her petticoat pocket. “I cannot do that at the moment, but as soon as I can.” She turned toward the stairs. She didn’t want to give him the necklace. Not yet. She didn’t trust her father. She didn’t know the man, but he consumed too many spirits and she knew not if he was reliable. “I must go and see to changing. It will take me a bit longer without the aid of a maid.” Sam appeared at the bottom of the steps, standing quietly, examining the toes of his shoes. “Your darky needs to stop sulking around,” snapped her father, sloshing whiskey on the table. “He is not sulking. He is merely watching out for my welfare.” “That won’t be necessary. You’re safe in this house.” She stared at her father for a moment. Was that true? She laid her hand on the stair rail and started up. “Genevieve…” Turning, she stopped. “Yes, Papa?” 176


“Your darky…he’s worth a great deal of money and we have no use for him in this house. He’s a field slave from the looks of him.” “Ouì, Papa.” She studied her father’s face and watched a myriad of expressions flash across it. “I know a broker who would be glad to take him to auction for us with only a small charge as commission.” “Papa, he doesn’t belong to me but to Cooper.” His face fell, then a smile flitted across it. “If you ask, he would give you the slave as a gift. I saw the look in his eyes. He’ll do anything you want.” “I shall not ask for Sam. Cooper needs him on his farm.” Her father thought of nothing but lining his own pockets. “You’re too familiar with the man, daughter, calling him by his Christian name.” She should feel chastised, but instead annoyance gnawed at her. “I am of an age that I shall do as I please.” Her father frowned. “Where is Mr. Monroe?” “I do not know.” She hadn’t seen him all morning and had wondered where he hid himself. “He needs to be on his way. I don’t want him here when Westcott arrives. I don’t want the man to think you’re damaged goods.” “Papa!” She fled up the stairs. *

*

*

Cooper walked into the kitchen from the back of the house. Even though last night’s incident was probably nothing, he’d wanted to investigate for his own peace of mind. A boot print graced the side of the walk as though someone had slipped off the paving. It didn’t look as though it had been there long and the size looked larger than Frederick’s. Other than that, he’d found no evidence of anyone being near the house who shouldn’t. He needed to leave and his investigating was only an excuse to 177


linger. Frederick would care for his daughter. With the necklace, he’d have the power to fight Fortier. Cooper would best be away. He knew nothing of the business dealings in which these two men engaged. Mrs. Kincaid gave him a dark look as he entered her domain. The gray-haired woman looked worn and sad, but also able to remove a body’s head with a look. A hard, lifeless look. “I don’t have enough to be feeding you and that darky.” She looked him up and down. “Mr. Rawling’s expectin’ company for dinner, so you’d best be taking yourself off.” She turned back to hacking at what looked to be a poor cut of beef. Steam from her seafood stew filled the kitchen. The aroma brought back memories of his first days in America, when the smells of fresh baked bread and seafood stew had filled the house where Chesterfield and his wife had stayed before they journeyed up the Mississippi to their plantation. The enticing smells had drifted out on the afternoon wind to the small cabin where he and the other two boys had stayed, but none of the stew had made its way to them. Instead, they’d had stale bread and flat beer. He slipped into the hallway hoping that no one else was around. Sam, as usual, stood on the stairs, leaning against the railing, head down. Cooper could barely see the movement, but he could feel Sam’s watchful glance, then the man looked away. He climbed the stairs. “Everything fine?” “Yes, massar.” Cooper had given up trying to get him to call him Coop and this didn’t seem the time or place to try and change his behavior. Once they were home. God, how he missed his home and his family. He missed Megan climbing into his lap and nestling. He missed listening to Jacob ramble on by the minute. He even missed watching Arnou and Ilde spooning constantly. He hoped they were all right. Surely Fortier’s men would 178


leave them alone once they realized Becka had left. Surely. “Becka?” Sam inclined his head toward the top of the stairs. “Mr. Rawlings?” Sam inclined his head toward the parlor. “Ummm.” Cooper looked up the stairs. He wanted to go to Becka and tell her he had spoken untruly the night before, but he couldn’t. “I’m going to pack my bag and we’ll be going.” A heaviness sat on his soul. “Safe?” Sam inclined his head toward the top of the stairs. Cooper didn’t know, but her father should take care of her. He shrugged. “Her father’s here to protect her now. It isn’t our place any more.” Sam looked into his eyes. Cooper could see all his own questions there. He glanced away. “There you are.” Cooper turned to see Frederick standing in the doorway. He’d donned a fresh shirt and his tie was straight. The ruddiness in his cheeks didn’t seem as pronounced as the night before, but Cooper was sure that, before the day was over, the man would consume sufficient liquor to turn his cheeks a flaming red. Was he doing the correct thing leaving Becka with this man? He was her father, but… “Did you need something?” “You, out of my house.” Frederick swayed toward the bottom of the stairs. Cooper clenched his fists. “I was going upstairs to pack.” Becka appeared at Cooper’s elbow, her skirts swishing. “Papa, how can you be so rude to the man who saved my life?” “I am very grateful to him, but that doesn’t mean he can move into my house and expect to be supported.” Frederick crossed his arms 179


across his chest. “Papa, do not be so ungrateful.” Cooper laid his hand on her shoulder. “I was leaving anyway.” “No,” Becka cried. “Daughter, this is none of your concern. If you are ready for company, go into the parlor and see to the tea.” Frederick waved his hand at her. “It is best.” Cooper shoved his clenched fists into his trouser pockets. Becka had enough problems with her father without his making them worse. She glared at him. “Papa, Cooper a sauvegardé ma vie, et c’est commet- tu le remboursez. Tes comportement est indécent.” “Don’t be speaking in that Frenchy language. You know I hate it.” She blinked. “How would I know such a thing?” Frederick took a step toward his daughter. Cooper stepped in front of her. Frederick glared at him. “This charade has gone on long enough. It’s time to take over your duties as my daughter. I never allowed your mother or my daughters to speak French to me. I never have, and you won’t start now with the excuse you don’t remember. Just because you spent the last six years in France with your aunt is no excuse to use a language I can’t understand.” Becka stood rigid. “You won’t look at me with such a look either,” Frederick spat then turned to Cooper. “What did you do to my daughter to turn her against me?” Cooper kept himself between Frederick and Becka. He suppressed the urge to grab her and remove her from the house. He had no right. “You need no help to alienate her.” “He did nothing, Papa. Nothing but bring me home, thinking you would be glad to be reunited with a daughter you had lost. But no, you 180


greet him with anger. I shall not stand for it.” She stomped up the stairs. “Genevieve,” Frederick roared, the noise reverberating off the walls. “Genevieve, you go into the parlor this moment and wait for our guest. I’ll tend to this man and his darky.” His face reddened and the veins on his neck pulsed. Cooper flexed his fingers in his pockets. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He could feel Sam tense behind him. He hoped Frederick had the sense not to strike Becka because he didn’t know if he could stop Sam, or if he would even try. “I’m not offended, Becka.” “Her name is Genevieve,” shouted Frederick. “You should be.” Becka stood with her back to him. “I am offended my own father would treat my rescuer so. If he is my father.” Frederick sputtered. “He is your father, Becka. He has your portrait on his pianoforte and you look very much like your mother and sister.” Cooper took a deep breath to calm his heart and the rage racing through him. If someone had returned Megan to him, he would have offered him all he had. Nothing was more important than those in his family. Nothing. He turned to Frederick. “I was leaving. You have no reason to be angry. I’ve asked you for nothing and intend to ask for nothing. It was my pleasure to reunite your daughter with you.”

181


CHAPTER 16

“Genevieve, pass me the meat,” her father said, his words slurred. “I’m sorry we don’t have any servants to help. With my wife gone, I haven’t kept many and our girl had an emergency at home.” Henry Westcott nodded as he slurped at his stew. “Good help is hard to find.” He swallowed and picked up a piece of bread with a hand adorned with a large diamond ring. Becka watched the two men while she chewed at a bite of meat. Westcott was older than her father, but obviously had more money. Her father seemed well on his way to being in his cups even though it was only dinner time. “We could have the nuptials next week.” Frederick plopped a piece of meat onto his plate. “Won’t your wife want to return for the wedding?” Westcott ladled more seafood stew from the tureen onto his bowl. “I’m not sure when she’ll be returning and it’ll take too long to get 182


a message to her.” Frederick sawed at his meat, finally managing to slice off a morsel. “If Genevieve doesn’t mind, next week—Wednesday—will be fine.” Westcott spooned a large mouthful of stew into his mouth and chewed contentedly, a small amount of sauce dribbling down the side of his mouth. Didn’t mind? Of course she minded. She couldn’t imagine laying with this man. Not after laying with Cooper. A warmth curled in her stomach as she remembered his touch. Life without him would be so lonely. Looking up at Westcott, she tried not to frown. She didn’t know how she had come to the age of four-and-twenty without having wed. Whatever the reason had been, it seemed it must be worth keeping. She chewed the meat in her mouth and tried to swallow so she could speak. It was tough as cowhide and refused to get small enough to go down her throat. No wonder her father looked for help with his finances if he couldn’t afford better. She looked about for a place she could discreetly hide the meat and saw nothing. What she would give for a meal of Maura’s chicken stew and hot biscuits. All of that had melted in her mouth. “That’s fine with you, Genevieve, isn’t it?” Her father smiled at her. She smiled and shook her head. “Speak out, child. What’s the problem?” The problem? The problem was she wanted to go home with Cooper and forget she had a family in New Orleans. They didn’t seem to be people she really wanted to know, let alone be related to. She shifted the meat into her cheek and talked around it. “I have only now returned, Papa. I need time to prepare.” “What’s to prepare?” “Clothing. Arrangements.” She played with her fork. “I’ll send a decent lady’s maid over.” Westcott took up his glass of 183


wine. After downing it, he smiled at her. “She can help. I’ll find the name of my late wife’s modeste and she’ll take care of any clothing you need.” “It’ll be a small affair, after all that’s happened.” Frederick drained his wine glass. “That would be best.” Westcott refilled his wineglass. “Once Genevieve is settled, we can have a reception.” She swallowed, nearly choking on the meat and pushed away her plate. They talked about her as if she weren’t even present. She didn’t know how she would get out of it, but she wasn’t going to marry Westcott. Cooper would be the only man to share her bed. A knock sounded at the front door. She looked at her father, who was busy topping up his wineglass. The knocking continued in a hard, angry sound. “Mrs. Kincaid,” her father bellowed. “Answer the door.” Mrs. Kincaid stomped in from the kitchen and through the room. “Can’t be cooking the meal and answering the door. Expects a body to do everything.” The door to the dining room slammed shut. “I don’t know why I keep her.” Frederick took a long sip of his wine. Because no one else would work for what he paid. Becka shook her head. Maybe she had run away from her family with Jacques. Papa had said she was trying to retrieve the necklace, but with what was happening upon her return, maybe she had just run off. How had she fallen overboard? Had Jacques pushed her? The door behind her swung open and a tall man with dark hair and intense blue eyes stormed into the room. His white linen suit was immaculate. “There you are.” He stopped behind her chair. She looked up at him. Something in his eyes frightened her, and she wished Cooper and Sam hadn’t left. “Fortier, how dare you barge into my house.” Frederick pushed 184


himself upright. A smile played at the corner of Fortier’s mouth. “You didn’t send word Genevieve had returned.” So this was Jacques Fortier. She didn’t like the looks of him and her skin crawled as he stood too close. She shifted forward on her chair trying to increase the distance between them. *

*

*

Cooper looked around the dingy hotel room. He and Sam should have gotten on the boat going up the river. He didn’t know why he hadn’t. Sam sat leaning against the wall, his knees folded up and his arms rested on top of them, his chin on the back of his hands. He stared straight ahead, a look of dismay in his eyes. Cooper thought about unpacking his bag sitting on the bed. The small, drab room made him even more homesick and he missed Becka. He missed her smile and her touch. He wanted to kiss her one more time before he left. He wanted to hold her next to him. His body wanted her. Staying around New Orleans wasn’t going to do any good. Genevieve was back with her family and he could do nothing more for her. A rat scurried across the floor and Cooper shivered. “I haven’t seen rats the size of these since I was aboard the big ship coming from England.” He didn’t know if it would be safer to sit on the floor or to stay on the bed. He wanted a clear view of the rats before they could run up his legs. Cooper didn’t like sitting on the bed. It didn’t look too clean, and he didn’t want to sleep here tonight. Unless they got on the boat, though, they wouldn’t have a choice. He couldn’t afford to spend more money. “Sam, ever been on a big ship?” He had to do something to get Becka off his mind before he went crazy. Thinking of her only made his body ache. And his soul. 185


“No, massar,” Sam said his voice soft. “You were born in this country?” “Yes, massar.” “What part of the country were you born in?” A long sigh escaped Sam as he looked at Cooper. “Don’t rightly know.” Cooper walked over to the window and looked out through the smudges of grime and dirt. He hated rats. He hated filth. He’d had enough of it in his youth. “I was born north of London. When I came to this country, it was aboard a ship. Three of us spent the whole trip down below decks in a room smaller than this one. The rats were huge. Bigger than your hands. God, how I hate rats.” He turned back to Sam. Sam watched him, his dark eyes following his every movement. Cooper shouldn’t be complaining about the life he’d had. Sam had to have seen worse. When he’d purchased him, he’d been beaten half to death. Those days locked aboard that ship had been some of the worst in Cooper’s life. He’d had no freedom and had been at the whim of Chesterfield. He could do nothing to help himself or those with whom he’d shared accommodations. Cooper sat back on the bed. This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. After all, he had a wonderful family and had resolved to return to take care of them. “I’m sure Becka is happy to be back with her father.” “Safe?” Sam’s eyes beseeched him for an answer. “She has to be safe. She’s with her father. Where else could be safer?” “Us.” Cooper felt a tugging at his heart. Already he missed Becka. She had a place in his heart no one else would fill, but he didn’t wish that. “Tomorrow we’ll take the boat north. Maura and the others will be waiting for us.” He heaved a sigh. Happiness waited for him if he left 186


the sorrow here. “They’ll be happy to see us. And I miss the children terribly.” He walked back to the window. They were close enough to see the docks and he could see the boats getting ready to leave. It would have been smart to be on the boat, but something squeezed at his heart and told him to stay behind. He wasn’t ready to leave Becka without a protector, yet he could do nothing but stay in this wretched room. He thought of unpacking his bag again, but he didn’t want his clean clothes touching anything. Home. It had become a place of love and safety where his children could grow into fine adults. He’d left behind him the parents who had no more use for him than the money he could bring them and Chesterfield’s abuses. His world had become secure, and he was wealthy in family if not in cash. But was Becka? Had he left her to a worse fate than Fortier, or was his heart trying to sabotage what his mind knew was the right thing to do? A rat scurried across his foot and up his leg. “Damn.” He kicked. The rat sailed across the room and smashed into the wall. His bag fell from the bed and his clothes fell out. He reached out to scoop them up before the grime of the floor stained them. The tiny bit of sun coming through the window glinted off something. He investigated. The necklace was stuffed between his shirts. Clutching the necklace in his hand, he stared at it. It represented everything she was. Everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t keep it. He had to return it. It was a good thing he’d decided to wait a day and hadn’t taken the boat north. “Come on, Sam.” He shoved everything back into his bag and headed toward the door. *

* 187

*


Cooper stood at the front door of the Rawlings’ house and shifted from foot to foot as he rapped loudly. He waited for the housekeeper to open the door and admit him. He continued to shift wondering why Becka had put the necklace in his bag and what was wrong. Sam stood behind him on the stairs as Mrs. Kincaid opened the front door. “What you want?” she snapped. He stepped forward. “I must speak with Miss Genevieve.” The housekeeper blocked his way. “She has company for dinner. She can’t be bothered by the likes of you.” Cooper didn’t want to hurt the woman but no one would stand in his way. He would find out what Becka feared and offer his help. He pushed past Mrs. Kincaid and strode across the hall, giving a tiny push to the dining room door to enter. Sam followed him. Fortier stood behind Becka, his hand on her shoulder. Her face was scrunched up as she tried to move away from him. A strange elderly man stood and pushed back his chair. “Keep your hands off of her.” He glared at Fortier. “She is my fiancée and you may not manhandle her.” Frederick poured himself another drink. “Now, Westcott, don’t worry. He’s not going to harm her.” He took a long drink and seemed to shrink into himself. The bile rose in Cooper’s throat. He wouldn’t allow Fortier to hurt Becka. Becka tried to shove her chair back, but Fortier held it in place. “I have come for what is mine.” “We have nothing that belongs to you. You’ve already taken everything I have.” Frederick set his glass on the table with a bang. “You won’t have my daughter.” Cooper strode across the room and stood next to Fortier and beside Becka, placing his hand on her shoulder. Frederick slammed his hand on the table. “What are you doing 188


here? Your job is finished. Be off with you.” He waved his hand at Cooper. Fortier, his hand still on Becka’s other shoulder, looked at Cooper and smiled, a strange, evil smile. “Who are you?” Frederick continued to wave his hand in the air. “He’s no one. He returned Genevieve to me and now his business is done.” Cooper assessed Fortier. He needed to get him away from Becka. “I must discuss something with Beck…Genevieve.” Frederick rose from his chair and glared at Cooper. “You’ve nothing to say that my daughter’s interested in hearing. Be gone.” Cooper watched Fortier as he addressed Frederick. “I shall speak with your daughter.” Becka wrenched herself away from Fortier’s hold, slipped out of the chair and moved to Cooper’s side. “It is all right, Papa. I shall speak with Cooper.” “You’re awfully familiar with the man.” Westcott followed Becka with his gaze. Cooper hated the way Westcott looked at Becka. Jealousy rushed through him. Jealousy was something he wasn’t allowed to feel, but he didn’t want to see her with that old man either. “He was my rescuer.” Becka stood close to Cooper and gave him a smile. “It would be impolite not to see what he needs.” Cooper wanted to hold her again. Hold her as he had before he left the house. He slipped his arm around her shoulders. Frederick shook his fist at Cooper. “Your business here is complete.” Frederick staggered around the table. “My business is not with you, Mr. Rawlings.” As drunk as Becka’s father appeared to be, Cooper didn’t know if fisticuffs could be avoided. “I need only speak with Beck…Genevieve.” Damn. Why couldn’t he remember her true name? “Miss Rawlings to you, you interloper.” Westcott stepped forward. 189


“You won’t address my fiancée in such a manner.” Becka shivered and looked at Cooper with wide eyes, as if pleading for his help. Frederick moved closer and drew himself to full height, pointing toward the door. “Out of my house.” Fortier smiled and seemed to glide closer to Becka. “Frederick, Henry, sit. I’m sure Mr. Monroe means no harm to Genevieve.” “I merely wish to speak with Genevieve a moment.” Hah! Finally he’d gotten her name right. Fortier stepped protectively beside Becka and lifted Cooper’s hand from her shoulder. “I have business to discuss with her also. She has something that belongs to me.” Cooper moved Becka so he stood between her and Fortier. Frederick’s face turned red. “Any business you have will be discussed with me.” Fortier gave Frederick a haughty look. “Any business we had is long over. Your daughter took something from me when she left my riverboat and I wish it returned.” “I do not know of what you speak.” Becka pursed her lips together. Her face had gone pale. Cooper placed his hand on the small of her back. “Are you impugning my daughter’s honor?” Frederick huffed at Fortier. A false smile graced Fortier’s face. “Not at all, sir.” “I would hope not.” Keeping his distance, Westcott glared at Fortier. “She took it by accident. I wish it returned.” He tried to appear hurt by their accusations. “She has nothing that belongs to you.” Frederick looked from Fortier to Becka and back. A chill ran up Cooper’s back. Frederick would give away that 190


Becka was in possession of the necklace. He had thought Becka would be safe once she was back with her family. He’d been mistaken. She was no safer now than she’d been on his farm. He glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who filled the doorway to the dining room. Sam would stay and protect Becka as long as necessary. Rawlings would never allow Cooper to stay. Cooper took Becka’s elbow. “If I might have a moment…” “Not until this is settled.” Fortier stepped around Cooper and grabbed Becka’s other arm. Cooper clutched his hand into a fist. “Unhand her.” Fortier glared. “I’ll speak with her.” Cooper looked at Sam. “You have no business with Beck…Genevieve.” Damn. Frederick staggered as he moved toward them. “I’ll decide who has business and who doesn’t.” Becka tried to free her arm from Fortier. “I do not remember you, sir, and cannot imagine I would have business with you.” Fortier stared at her for moment, then looked at Cooper. “She truly doesn’t remember?” “No, she doesn’t.” Cooper didn’t like the look of desperation on Fortier’s face. A cold sweat trickled down his back. He pried Fortier’s fingers from Becka’s arm. “That’s no reason to injure a lady.” “She’s no lady.” Cooper raised his fist. “Sam’ll escort you out.” A low growl sounded from the doorway. Fortier’s face blanched and he stepped away from Becka. “But…” Becka dug her fingers into Cooper’s arm, clinging to him. “It would be best if you left also.” “No.” He didn’t want to leave her alone. “I can wait in the parlor until you’re finished with dinner.” He didn’t want her out of his sight. She leaned closer to him. “I shall meet you at the corner two blocks 191


down in an hour.” “Daughter, what are you discussing?” “Only that it would be best if Mr. Monroe left now.” She smiled. Frederick leaned against the table. “Yes. They both must leave.” Fortier glanced over his shoulder. “I need the… my property.” Westcott appeared confused, looking from one to another. Cooper hoped he would retract his marriage offer. She could find better— younger. Every man who met her would want her hand. She should have a husband who wouldn’t leave her a widow in a few years. For the moment, he had to get Fortier outside and away from Becka. He wanted the necklace. If Cooper thought he would take it and leave, he would hand it over, no matter how much Frederick swore it belonged to him. Anything to insure Becka’s safety. The swirling in his stomach told him not to take a chance. Not until he had spoken with Becka. Cooper grabbed Fortier’s arm. “Let’s go.” Fortier tried to pull his arm away, but Cooper refused to release him. “I’ll have Sam remove you if I have to.” Fortier glared at Cooper then Becka, sweat forming on his forehead. “This is not finished.” Cooper dragged Fortier across the dining room. He heard the clunk of the whiskey bottle against the tabletop. Frederick’s answer to everything. He gave her a smile as he pulled Fortier through the door to the hallway. “Sam, stay and make sure Miss Becka is safe.” Sam nodded and stepped to block the doorway to the dining room.

192


CHAPTER 17

She pulled on her gloves and reached for her reticule. “I am going to the modiste, Papa.” “I don’t know what for.” Frederick leaned back in his chair, his eyes half closed. “How are you going to pay for new clothing? Not that you need any. The wardrobe upstairs is full. So is the one in your sister’s room. That should be fine.” Why hadn’t her sister taken her clothes with her to France? Nothing in this house seemed to make sense. “If I’m to wed Mr. Westcott, I must have appropriate clothing.” That thought sent chills up her back, but she wouldn’t think about it now. Cooper hadn’t left for home. She still had a chance to convince him to take her back to the farm. She looked around the parlor. It spoke of faded grandeur overrun with sadness. Her father half passed out in the chair only added to the feeling of despair. Her father— a man she didn’t know and didn’t wish to know. She 193


didn’t care what Cooper said. Or her father. She wouldn’t stay in this loveless place. Memories of Maura, Arnou and the children flooded her mind causing tears to well up in her eyes. That was what she wanted. She had no desire to remember what sadness had happened in this house. “I shall be back before supper.” She turned toward the door. “I forbid you to leave. I won’t pay for the clothing.” Frederick sat up. She didn’t care because she wasn’t going shopping, but to meet Cooper. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. Her insides quivered as she thought of his touch. She strolled toward the door. “Daughter, come back. You must give me the necklace so I can take it to the bank.” “I do not have it.” She didn’t pause. “What?” His voice echoed off the walls of the room. “I do not have it.” “Come back, daughter. This is nothing to joke about.” She stopped at the doorway to see his face blanch white. “I am not joking.” “Genevieve, come back.” His voice rose to a shrill pitch. “You could be hurt. It’s dangerous out there. Fortier wants the necklace. He’ll stop at nothing to get it.” She kept walking. “Sam will protect me.” *

*

*

Jacques drummed his fingers on his mahogany desk and stared at Phillippe. “She swears she doesn’t have the necklace. I don’t see how she could possibly not.” Phillippe took a long drag on his cigar. “Maybe it fell from her neck when she was in the river.” Jacques shook his head. “No. The clasp was such that it would never have come loose. Unless…” Monroe. “Mayhaps Monroe has it.” 194


“He could’ve kept it as his fee for rescuing her.” Phillippe flipped ashes into the large, crystal ashtray. Fortier didn’t care why Monroe had the necklace, if he had it. “The little bitch could be lying. It wouldn’t be the first time. But then Monroe sold his land for next to nothing.” Phillippe sat forward and reached for his bourbon. After taking a long, slow sip, he set his glass down. “He might be planning on selling out. With that necklace he wouldn’t need to work himself to death. He can move here. Have the lady.” “He has a family.” Jacques stood and walked to the window overlooking the street. Time was about to run out. He had to have the necklace. “But nothing to return to.” A sly smile crossed Phillippe’s face. It wasn’t the first time Jacques was glad Phillippe worked for him and not his enemies. “Find the necklace. One of them has to have it.” “That darky interrupted me last night.” Phillippe stretched lazily. “Tonight I’ll be ready for him.” “Monroe’s no longer at the Rawlings. You need to find where he’s staying.” Fortier wouldn’t allow the hick to outmaneuver him. His forehead throbbed and he rubbed his temples. Damn farmer. Phillippe finished his bourbon, then rose. “He can’t be hard to find. He’ll stay somewhere close to Genevieve.” “Then find him and the necklace.” Phillippe was correct. Anyone could see Monroe was in love and love could make a man dangerous. Both Monroe and his slave would protect Genevieve with their lives. He watched Phillippe walk out the door. He hoped Phillippe knew what he was up against. Monroe was a lot stronger than he appeared, and the big man looked like he could crush a man with no effort. Jacques wiped his brow. An eerie feeling crept over him. Why couldn’t Genevieve just have washed up on the shore, dead, the necklace around her neck? 195


*

*

*

Cooper stood at the corner two blocks from the Rawlings house. He tried to blend into the hedge so no one noticed him. He’d been standing here nearly an hour and he wished Becka would arrive. His heart beat faster at the thought of seeing her and his blood pulsed. Every few seconds he glanced down the sidewalk, only to be disappointed. He wiped his hands on his trousers, then stuffed them in his pockets. She was fine. It was taking her longer than she had expected. He peeked again down the street and sighed. He wanted her to arrive so he could take her into his arms and kiss her. Though he probably shouldn’t while they stood on the street. Fortier had departed in a carriage, a very fancy carriage. That and the way he dressed spoke of money. What could be so important about the necklace? Fortier had offered a reward. If he had as much money as he appeared to, the necklace couldn’t mean that much, except as a matter of vengeance. Cooper hadn’t had much experience with the rich or with businessmen, but he’d learned from Chesterfield that those in charge didn’t much care for others to upset their plans. Something about Fortier seemed desperate. The look on his face at being foiled had been more than anger. Cooper couldn’t say exactly what it was for sure, but it made his spine tingle. He peeked around the hedge and saw Becka walking toward him, looking beautiful in a blue dress trimmed in white lace. She’d wound her hair around her head and wore a jaunty, little, blue cap with white feathers. This was the way she should always look. Not bedraggled and worn from working in the field. Sam lumbered behind her, his eyes downcast. Cooper stepped out and took Becka’s arm. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” 196


She smiled at him. “Papa did not want me to.” She squeezed his arm. “He tried to stop me.” Cooper ushered her into a small café and to a table near the side where he could see the window and Sam leaning against the wall. After seating Becka, he waved at the waiter. “Do you want anything?” She nodded. “The beef was too tough to chew and my stomach too nervous with Mr. Westcott then Jacques in attendance to eat.” “Some seafood stew?” He leaned his elbows on the table. He was starving and imagined Sam was also. They hadn’t eaten since last night. Rawlings hadn’t been in the mood to feed them breakfast, but then there didn’t appear to be much food in the house. “That would be nice.” She removed her gloves and put them in her reticule. “Four bowls of seafood stew and some bread.” The waiter, a young man with black hair and dressed in a white shirt and trousers with a black string tie about his neck, stared at Cooper. “Four?” “Yes.” Cooper leaned back. “See that big man by the door. He’ll eat two of them.” Cooper leaned forward after the waiter left. “You need to make plans.” She sighed. “I want to go home with you. I want to forget all of this. Those are the only plans I want to make. I want to be where I feel loved and where I can find solace in your arms.” Cooper wanted to gather her into his arms, but he couldn’t. “That isn’t going to help. Fortier will only follow. He wants the necklace and he won’t give up until he has it.” “I should just give it to him. It means nothing to me.” She took Cooper’s hand. “It might rightly belong to your father.” “I do not care.” “He seems to need the money.” Cooper only had a family and a 197


small amount of cash, but he knew now he was rich beyond anything Rawlings had. He’d never before realized how rich he was. Rawlings reminded him of Chesterfield. Nothing had made the man happy and he’d gone out of his way to make those around him as miserable as he was. She looked into Cooper’s eyes. “Papa seems unable to rouse himself from his bottle, except to entertain Westcott with the hope once I am wed, Westcott will furnish him with money. However, I have no intentions of marrying a man older than my own father.” She shivered. He refused to think of Becka with Westcott. He didn’t want Becka in any other man’s arms, especially not Westcott’s. He was so old. “At least he can buy you fine things.” “There are more important things in life than fine clothing and a fancy house.” “But that is what you have grown up with.” “Than maybe it is a blessing that I cannot remember.” She squeezed his hand. “What am I to do?” Her safety was of utmost importance. “Give Fortier the necklace. Your father will have to find another way to improve his lot.” He drummed his fingers on the table. There had to be something he could do to insure her safety. “Arrange a meeting with Fortier and I’ll return the necklace to him.” “I can meet with him.” She leaned back as the waiter set a steaming bowl of stew in front of her. Cooper’s stomach growled as the rich smell of the stew wafted up to his nose. He was hungrier than he’d realized. At home, Maura always made sure they were fed on time. He hadn’t been hungry since Chesterfield had died. “It’ll be dangerous to meet with Fortier. I’ll feel better if you let me handle it.” He still had the feeling Fortier wanted to hurt her. “First, though, we should speak with your father and find out what really 198


happened.” “I do not think I want to know.” She tore off a piece of bread and took a bite, sighing. “This reminds me of Maura’s cooking.” She leaned forward a bit. “Mrs. Kincaid knows as much about cooking as I do.” He laughed. “Sam seems to be enjoying his meal.” She turned in her chair to look out the window. “The man needs great quantities.” She turned back to Cooper. “Maybe that was part of the reason his owner wanted to sell him and didn’t much care about the price.” Cooper shook his head. “I figure he was afraid of Sam, though I don’t know why.” “The first night you were also.” “Then I got to know him. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” He took a bite of his stew and chewed, letting the combination of crawfish, crab, shrimp, rice and okra fill his mouth with an extraordinary flavor. He’d found a bit of heaven. “Unless he was provoked.” She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. For the moment she seemed happy. The happiest he’d seen her since they’d arrived in New Orleans. “We need to handle Fortier so you’re safe.” He leaned closer. “To do that, we need to know more about him. The way your father speaks of him, Fortier should be very wealthy. The coach he drives is not cheap, nor are his clothes, but something about him makes me wonder. He seems much too interested in the necklace.” “It is worth a great deal.” “Yes, but if he’s very rich, it should be only a trifle to him. Something doesn’t ring true and we need to find out what that is.” “What can we do?” Her eyebrows pulled together and her spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. “Papa should know some people who can tell us what kind of financial condition Jacques is in.” “If he’ll impart the information to us.” 199


“We shall ask. If we find it is no more than an obsession to own the necklace, I shall return it to him and have done with the whole problem.” Hopefully she would be safe again. Unfortunately, the prickle at the back of Cooper’s neck belied that thought. What was Fortier up to? *

*

*

“Papa, I have returned,” she called out as she entered the house. The door to the parlor was open a crack and she could hear her father’s snores. “He is asleep. Maybe we should wait.” She laid her hand on Cooper’s arm. “He could sleep the rest of the day.” He patted her hand. “I should’ve waited outside. He won’t be happy to see me.” “I do not care. I want you here while we sort this out.” She took in a deep breath and pushed open the door to the parlor. The smell of whiskey nearly gagged her. Dropping her reticule on the small round table, she went to the window and pulled open the heavy curtains, letting late afternoon sunlight stream into the room. She tried to pry open the stuck window. Cooper came up behind her and unlocked the window. The screeching noise jolted Frederick from his chair. “What the hell’s going on?” He rubbed at his eyes, leaning forward. “It is only the window opening.” She looked at the smudge covering the glass. Mrs. Kincaid wasn’t much of a housekeeper either. “Close it,” Frederick growled, slumping back, his mouth slack. “This room needs to be aired.” And so did her father. “I don’t want any air.” His words slurred together. She yanked the bellpull and wondered if Mrs. Kincaid would answer. She tapped her foot against the floor as her father’s snores resumed. “I’m not sure this is going to be of any use.” Cooper put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed. She sighed and leaned into him. The knots in her shoulders seemed 200


to relax under his touch. Otherwise there was something about this house made every nerve in her body stand on end. “Now is as good as another time. He always seems to be in his cups.” Mrs. Kincaid stomped into the room, then stopped. “What do you want?” she snapped. Becka drew herself up to her full height and stood away from Cooper. She didn’t much care for Mrs. Kincaid, but she wouldn’t allow her to be rude. She was the daughter of this house and would be treated with the proper respect. “I want coffee. Now.” Mrs. Kincaid looked at Frederick, then back to her. “I’m busy.” She took a step toward Mrs. Kincaid. “You would do well to remember whom you are addressing.” Mrs. Kincaid looked her up and down and gave a grunt of dismissal. Becka clenched her hands at her sides. Lifting her chin, she looked down her nose at the rumpled housekeeper. “You will make coffee. Now. And henceforth you will make yourself presentable at all times.” Mrs. Kincaid snorted. “Who do you think you are?” “Genevieve Rawlings. Daughter of your employer and, while he might not notice, I shall not have you appear in such a manner. Especially when Mr. Westcott or Mr. Fortier might appear at the door. If you cannot maintain the appearance of being a proper housekeeper, then I shall replace you.” She took a step closer, her palms itching to slap the look of disdain off Mrs. Kincaid’s face. But treating a servant in that manner didn’t seem proper, and she must be a proper lady. “And tomorrow these windows will be cleaned.” Mrs. Kincaid laughed, causing Frederick to jump and sit up in his chair again. “What the hell? Can’t a man take a nap without all this ruckus?” Mrs. Kincaid turned toward the door. “Miss High-and-Mighty thinks she can replace me. On what you pay.” 201


Frederick staggered out of the chair and waved a hand at Mrs. Kincaid. “If my daughter wants you gone, so be it. She is going to be Mrs. Westcott within a fortnight and can pay all the servants she wishes.” Mrs. Kincaid stopped and muttered something under her breath. Then she stomped toward the door. Becka hated this. She didn’t want to order servants around. She wanted to be back where Maura took care of all of them and she didn’t have to worry about coffee or why Jacques Fortier wanted the damn necklace. “Please bring the coffee as soon as it’s done.” Mrs. Kincaid muttered some more before she slammed the door. “And some whiskey,” Frederick called after her. “She ain’t much, but she’s right. She’s the only one I could find who would work for the wages I could afford to pay.” She shook her head and sagged onto the settee. She patted the cushion beside her for Cooper to sit down. Frederick’s eyes seemed to focus for the first time. “What’s he doing here?” “He is here at my request, Papa. We have some questions to ask you.” She didn’t want to fight with her father. Could she just give the necklace to Jacques and make him go away? Cooper didn’t think so and he might be right. When Jacques had laid his hand on her shoulder at dinnertime, a dart of fear had shot through her, making her cringe away from him. “I have nothing to say to the man.” Frederick shifted in his chair and reached for his empty glass. “Besides, it’s unseemly for you to be seen with this man. Westcott could rescind his offer of marriage and I won’t have that.” She sighed and laid her hand on Cooper’s arm. His warmth and strength seeped into her body. “Papa, I need to know what has happened to our family.” 202


“Disaster.” He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and upended it into his glass, but only a few drops came out. “Where is that woman with my bottle?” “Papa, I need you to concentrate on me and not the whiskey.” This could be more of an ordeal than she was up to. Cooper patted her hand again. “Mr. Rawlings, the sooner you talk with us, the sooner you’ll be rid of me.” Frederick stared at him for a minute until Mrs. Kincaid shoved open the door and brought in the coffee. She set it down on the table in front of the settee. “Where’s my whiskey?” thundered Frederick. “I only got two hands.” Mrs. Kincaid stomped back toward the door. “Do not bring the whiskey.” Becka leaned forward and poured a cup of coffee. “Until we have finished our talk, Papa will be drinking coffee.” Frederick scrunched up his face. “I don’t want coffee.” She handed him the cup and poured three more, handing Sam one as he stood near the door. “How did Jacques come to have the necklace, Papa?” “He cheated me.” Frederick’s eyebrows drew together and his mouth turned down. “Cheated me in what should have been a fair business deal.” “How, Papa?” She wondered how much was her father’s imagination enhanced by the drinking and how much was truth. If he’d always drunk this much, it was no wonder her mother and sister had left him, or that he’d been cheated in business. “He was buying two ships and needed capital. He was going to ship cotton to Britain.” He took a sip of his coffee and made a face. “There’s a lot of cotton to ship and I had invested in other ships that had paid handsomely. I saw no reason not to invest with Fortier.” 203


“Isn’t shipping risky?” Cooper leaned forward and set his cup on the table. “Ships could sink.” “That doesn’t happen as often as you might think. In fact I had invested many times in ships and nary a one of them ever sank.” Frederick grimaced. “But this time, Fortier came to me and said both of them had sunk.” “Papa, you should not have been so foolish as to have invested all of your money into one venture.” At one time, from the looks of this house, her father had to have been a wealthy man. Otherwise her mother would never have owned such an expensive necklace. “I’m not stupid in business matters. I would never invest all my money in one venture.” He glared at his daughter. “Then how could that one business venture have brought ruin to you?” “I was not happy about the loss, but I figured to make it up. Then Fortier came to me and told me I owed more money. I didn’t know how I could. I went to my banker and he said he had contracts from growers saying I would buy their crops to ship to Britain. I told him I had never entered into such contracts.” Frederick sighed and sunk back into his chair. “The only contract I’d entered into was with Fortier for the cost of the ships. I would receive one-quarter of the profit from the shipments, and he would receive three-quarters because he was buying the goods.” Cooper frowned. “If he was buying the cotton, why did he need your money?” “He didn’t have enough to outfit the ships and buy the cotton. It all made sense at the time. Until I found my name on the contracts to purchase the cotton and guaranteeing the growers money, even if I had no way to ship the goods.” “Could you not arrange to ship it on another vessel? I am sure there are plenty who would love to fill their cargo holds.” She sipped her 204


coffee. If her father hadn’t signed the contracts, then how had Jacques come to possess them? “I made arrangements to have the cotton shipped. That was all I could do to recoup the losses. It wasn’t the end of everything. I would still make some money and I swore to never have business dealings with Fortier again.” He sighed. “Others had warned me to be wary of him. That he couldn’t be trusted. “I saw a chance to make a great deal of money. More and more cotton is being grown in this country and they are hungry for it in Britain’s mills. Our ships could’ve sailed for years.” He dropped his head into his hands. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe her father was crying. A small amount of pity surged through her. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed. He had been wronged. “If you found other ships to use, why did you end up with nothing?” “When I went to the warehouse to inspect the cotton, it had burned to the ground. I’d spent almost everything to pay for the cotton and the shipping. The ship’s owner didn’t see that he should return my money because I had nothing to ship and he was sailing with nothing in his hold.” “That doesn’t explain how Fortier ended up with the necklace.” Cooper took a sip of coffee. “Did you use it to finance the venture?” “Never. Your mother would’ve had my head. The necklace belonged to her grandmother and had been passed to her when the old woman died.” Becka leaned back against the settee. Business deals went bad. “Why was it Jacques’ fault?” “I found out too late there never were any ships or cotton. He had bilked the money from me.” Frederick seemed to shrink into the chair. “Couldn’t you reclaim the money in court?” Cooper stood and walked around the settee, placing his hands on Becka’s shoulders. 205


“I couldn’t prove it and Fortier knew that. He laughed in my face. Then his solicitor came around saying I owed him money because the contract said I would make good on any losses Fortier had.” “Papa!” Frederick shook his head. “I know that wasn’t in the original contract. I would never have signed such a thing. I looked for my copy, but it had disappeared. By the time I tried fighting it in court, I had nothing left except your mother’s necklace. Fortier gladly took it.” “Is that why mother and sister went to France?” “Your sister isn’t in France.” She stared at him for a moment. The first night she had walked into the house she thought he had said they had gone to France. “Then where is she?” “She’s dead.”

206


CHAPTER 18

“Dead?” Her coffee cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. She stared at the broken pieces. Broken like her family. She blinked and looked at her father. She was sure he’d said her sister had gone to France with her mother. She clutched her hand to her chest. “And Mother?” “In France.” Frederick leaned back in his chair. A sigh rattled from him. “After Fortier cheated me and stole her necklace, she left me and went home to her family. Her anger was terrible. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.” “She would not stop loving you because you lost her necklace in a business deal.” She watched her father as he ran a finger around the top of his whiskey glass. She glanced at Cooper sitting next to her, staring at her, his brows drawn together. She loved him. Without the necklace, she would still love him, and he seemed to have no interest in it. “Love was not part of our arrangement. Your mother married me 207


because of the business connections and the money I had. When I could no longer keep her in the same manner, she chose to return to her sister. She thought to find you there, but you’d already set sail for New Orleans, so she missed you. She greatly wanted to see you. She had missed you all the years you were in France.” Cooper laid his hand on her arm and she placed her hand atop his. Rough skin caressed hers. Skin that spoke of hard work, with a touch so gentle it spoke of caring. Something not found in this household. She stared at the stain spreading across the carpet, her thoughts as dark as the coffee. Had she left because of her sister? “I do not understand anything. Why was I in France and not home with you?” Frederick leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his forehead. “Whiskey would help this headache, Genevieve.” “No. When I have heard the whole story, then you can have all the whiskey you want.” The world swirled around her and she leaned into Cooper, afraid she was about to tumble from the settee. “None of this makes sense. Mother in France joining me while I am in New Orleans aboard a riverboat with Jacques. Arabella dead. The necklace stolen and you in financial ruin. All of this cannot be Jacques’ doing.” “All but you going to France.” Frederick continued to rub his head. “Was I visiting in France?” Somehow she had to put the pieces of her life together. Maybe knowing would make her feel less fearful. Or, maybe knowing would make her feel worse. None of her father’s stories seemed to be pleasant. Cooper put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her back. “Take a deep breath before you faint.” He patted her hand. “If you wish, we can wait until later to sort this all out.” She shook her head. “No. I wish to know now.” Frederick glared at Cooper. “You left for France six years ago when you were only sixteen, and not to visit, but to stay with your aunt.” She looked around the parlor. Had things been as bad then? Maybe 208


all of this had been coming on for a very long time. “Why, Papa?” “You were engaged to a very wealthy young man and you seemed most pleased with the match. He was from one of the foremost families in New Orleans.” Frederick took his coffee cup in shaking hands. “So I ran away to France.” If she was so happy, why would she leave? Some part of her said she hadn’t been happy for a very long time. “No. One of his friends accosted you one night. He ripped the bodice of your dress and you were most distressed. Your fiancé called him out and got killed in the duel.” Frederick looked at her with sorrow in his eyes for the first time. “You were devastated and humiliated. Your mother thought a visit with your aunt would be nice. We expected you to either meet and marry someone there or return home after a short period. You liked life in France, but had no desire to wed anyone. “If Arabella had not died, I think you would never have returned here.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “What happened to my sister?” She knew Jacques had something to do with it. “Arabella.” He clutched the arm of the chair until his fingers turned white. He spoke in such a hushed tone she could barely hear him. “She is dead. It broke your mother’s heart. Such sadness she suffered. Between that and the necklace, she could no longer stand the sight of me.” She moved across the room and knelt beside her father. “What happened to Arabella?” “Fortier courted her after I entered business dealings with him.” He shook his head. “She was beautiful. Just as you are, but young and inexperienced. Her mother and I tried to dissuade her. It did no good that I forbade her to see him. He can be most charming and she was intent on becoming his wife.” He leaned forward again and rested his head in his hands. “She had no way of knowing he was only toying 209


with her. Toying with all of us. “After the ships sank and he had everything he wanted, he had no use for her. She begged him. She cried for days. That is when we found out he had seduced her and she was with child.” Frederick wiped at his eyes. “When she went to him, he ridiculed her. What use was she to him? He could have all the beautiful women he wanted. Rich ones. Not poor ones like her. “I begged him.” A long sigh rattled from him. “I offered him all I had left, which was not much. He laughed at me. He called her a whore and not fit to be a gentleman’s wife.” He looked up at Becka, his face red. “I shouldn’t tell you such things.” She put her hand on his arm. “It is of no matter. I have heard worse. I am not a child, but a grown woman. It must have been terrible for Arabella.” “Your mother wrote to you about how distraught she was. Then, ruined because she carried his child, she became even more despondent. Your mother tried to convince her to join you in France. She could tell everyone she was a widow. None would know the difference.” “And my aunt and I…?” She must have reached out to her sister. She wouldn’t want to find out she had been cold-hearted. “You wrote back immediately that you awaited her arrival. All was set. I found the money for her passage. She was to leave in the afternoon. Your mother went to awaken her and help her with her last minute packing and she was gone.” A gurgling noise erupted from Frederick. She sank down beside him and took his hands. “You did what you could for her.” “I should’ve made Fortier marry her.” Cooper stood and walked to stand behind her. “You could not force him to do so, and I don’t think you really would’ve wanted to. The man 210


isn’t to be trusted. He would only have caused her more grief.” “She would be alive.” “You do not know that for sure, Papa. You do not know.” She wanted to comfort him as she would Jacob. “Where did you find her?” “It was three days before her body washed ashore.” A sob echoed off the parlor walls. “She walked into the river and drowned herself.” “How awful.” She blinked back tears. The dream. The woman who had told her to beware. The ghostly figure. It had to be Arabella. “Your mother was beside herself. She couldn’t believe Arabella would do that. She blamed Fortier, saying he had killed her so she wouldn’t be an embarrassment to him. As much as I wanted to believe that, I couldn’t. She had been so despondent.” He clung to her hand. “Your mother was inconsolable. She wrote to you and told you what had happened. Then a week later, she decided to join you in France. She had no use for me and nothing else to hold her here.” “I am sorry, Papa. So sorry.” He had suffered a great deal for his association with Jacques. They all had. The pain squeezed at her heart. “Then you arrived. You received your mother’s letter and took the next ship home. You never knew your mother was coming to join you.” He looked up at her and gave her a wan smile. “You were furious Fortier had treated your family so and wanted revenge.” He sighed again. “I should’ve tried to dissuade you, but I cared not for much. Besides, I never thought Fortier wouldn’t realize you were Arabella’s sister. “When you boarded the riverboat with him, I knew you were lost to me also. I knew something dreadful would happen and I was right. A few days later, I received a letter saying you had drowned. I had nothing else to live for.” So he’d fallen into a bottle. That was her father’s answer to everything. “But I have returned.” “And with the necklace.” His smile brightened. 211


The necklace. Giving it to him would give him the money to go into business again and probably get her killed. She wasn’t sure he cared as long as he had the necklace. She chided herself. He had suffered much and she should show more concern. Except, all he’d done since her return was try and sell her. She didn’t know whether to comfort him or be angry with him. He looked into her eyes. “Now you must give me the necklace.” “Mr. Rawlings, we have other things to deal with first. Fortier would hurt Bec…Genevieve if we don’t return the necklace to him.” “It’s not his. He’s a swindler.” Frederick pulled away from her. “Your daughter’s life is in jeopardy.” Cooper moved in front of the chair. “I can’t believe you would put her in danger to advance your own financial standing.” Frederick waved a hand in an arc. “I am to continue living like this with that woman caring for my home? I want my life back.” “In exchange for your daughter’s?” What had she expected? He wanted the money. He cared nothing for family. He pulled her back down as she started to rise. “Papa.” Cooper’s face fused red. “You’re hurting her.” Frederick glared at Cooper. “She’s my daughter. She’ll do as I say. One willful daughter is all I’ll tolerate. Genevieve can restore my fortune…and she will.” She pried at his fingers around her arm, but he only tightened his hold. She feared Cooper would hit him if she struggled. Or Sam would interfere. She could see his brows furrowing into the same look as when Hickory had grabbed her. She remained kneeling by her father’s chair. “I’ll have the necklace.” Frederick stood and pulled her with him. He stared at Cooper. “And I’ll have you and your slave out of my house. Genevieve is to marry another and your hanging around her will spoil that.” 212


“Papa, Cooper wants nothing but to see me safe.” She trembled. She wanted to be away from her father. He’d been so sad. Now, he was so angry and she nothing but a means to an end. For a moment, she’d thought he cared. For her. Her sister. Her mother. Her heart screamed at her, telling her differently. “Once I have the necklace, all will be fine.” He flashed her a smile that made her tremble more. “I do not have it, Papa.” She was glad it was in Cooper’s bag and not in her pocket. “I don’t believe you.” “It is the truth.” He yanked her around. “Give me the necklace.” She shook her head. She stared into the anger and refused to flinch. “I cannot, Papa.” “You will obey me.” He raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She screamed as Cooper’s fist landed against her father’s face and he fell backward into the chair. *

*

*

Cooper opened the door to the suite he’d rented for them. He’d picked a not really expensive hotel in what seemed like a nice area, and with the suite, he wouldn’t have Sam sitting in the hallway terrifying other guests. He took the small bag of clothing Becka had packed in a hurry and set it next to his on an oak table in front of a dark green settee. The room was small and dark, but it should be safe while they figured out what to do next and surely, no one would look for them here. He put his arm around Becka’s shoulders. “It’s not too bad.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It is rather nice.” “I wouldn’t go that far, but it won’t have rats.” A shiver ran through him as he remembered the room he’d rented earlier. 213


“What’s wrong?” She looked up at him. Cooper shook his head and told her about the room and discovering the necklace. “Why did you put it in my bag?” “To keep it safe. As long as you and Sam had the necklace, I could tell everyone I did not. And who would try to steal your bag with Sam standing there?” She clung to his arm. “Also, I no longer wished to have the damn thing. Too many people wanted it. And me.” He kissed her cheek. “It’s safe for the moment, but I’m not sure you are.” He sat her on the settee and pulled open the drapes. They could look out on a street busy with buggies and lined with flowering magnolia trees. He crossed the room and lit the lamp next to the settee. It was the only light in the room to help push back the shadows. “I’m sorry about your father, but when he—” She held up her hand. “I did not expect that.” She touched her cheek. “I do not fault you.” He sat next to her and leaned back, putting his booted feet on the table, shoving the bags to one side. He motioned for Sam to sit in the matching wing chair across from them. If Sam wasn’t present, he’d take Becka into his arms and kiss her. But… Sam shook his head and remained standing by the door. “For heaven’s sake, sit down.” Cooper shook his head. “You can’t stand all the time, and no one else is about.” “Please, Sam.” Becka smiled at the large man. He smiled back and lumbered to the chair, overfilling it as he settled in. “Anyone for some tea?” Cooper leaned forward. He wanted to pace and try to clear his mind, but that would stir up the others. An itching had invaded his soul and he couldn’t settle. Holding her would make it better. If only he could. “You can’t possibly be hungry again.” Becka smoothed down her 214


skirt, playing with an edge of lace. Cooper sighed. “Actually, I want coffee and some of Maura’s cake. Hopefully, they at least have tea.” He rose and pulled the bell as he’d been told by the clerk at the front, and then sat next to Becka. “Your father’s going to be furious when he comes to and I imagine he’ll send the police looking for you.” “That could be tomorrow as drunk as he was. He went out like a light when you hit him.” She looked down at the piece of lace she worried. “Should we have stayed until he awoke?” “I didn’t want to be there.” It had been a cowardly thing to do, but he feared Frederick would take his anger out on Becka. His first thought had been to get her to safety once he’d made sure the man had still been breathing. “He shouldn’t have struck you.” Cooper also didn’t know if he could control his own temper and not throttle the man if he abused Becka again. “Maybe I should send him a note to say I am safe.” She rose and went to a small writing desk near the window, pushing up the top. “There is some paper. When they bring our refreshments, I shall have them deliver it to him.” Cooper rose and stood behind her. His hands itched to encircle her. He wanted to kiss the nape of her neck. Instead he looked at the paper, embossed with the name of the hotel. “Maybe you should tear that part off.” He pointed to the name. “We don’t want him or Fortier showing up here.” “I shall be careful.” A knock sounded on the door and Cooper went to answer it. He ordered coffee and some cake, then went back to the settee. Becka joined him with her letter. “We did not find out anything about with whom Jacques might be doing business.” She leaned against Cooper’s shoulder. He liked the feeling of her next to him and wished it would be 215


forever. She fit against him as though made to be part of him. His heart ached to make her his own, but he couldn’t. As soon as he left, some young swain would be after her. Even at twenty-four, with little money for a dowry, she was an incredible catch. “I won’t be welcomed in your father’s house again and I won’t have you going back there alone until he’s had plenty of time to cool off.” “Then we shall have to obtain the information elsewhere.” She snuggled in, her hand resting on his arm. He breathed in the smell of her, letting it heal his soul. Hugging her, he wanted to kiss her, but Sam sat opposite them. It was a good thing. It kept him from doing something they would both regret. “Westcott. Surely he’ll know more than your father, and I think he’ll help. Especially if it means your safety.” “Then on the morrow we go to Westcott.” She kissed him. His resolve melted like first snow and he pulled her tight. *

*

*

The fog surrounded her and she shivered, wrapping her arms about herself. The golden dress was no protection against the night air. She stood alone, listening to the waves lap against the side of the boat. The paddlewheel remained silent, stilled for the night. She walked toward the railing, the mist dampening her arms. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it, but she saw no one, nothing. She was alone. How could she be alone on a riverboat? Where were the crew and passengers? She looked down into the dark water. Blacker than night, it seemed to swallow up the small amount of light that came from the boat. She turned to see the light’s origin. The moon didn’t shine in the sky and the stars were blanketed by the mist. The light had no source. She turned back and peered into the water. The darkness called to her. In the darkness, all her fears would be gone. Everything would be quiet. 216


She didn’t want to look into the gloom. She didn’t want to feel the pull. She wouldn’t surrender her life to the blackness. Moving away from the railing, she searched for some sign of life. She couldn’t be alone. Someone had to be about to help her. A wavering figure in a torn white dress came toward her. Becka paused, staring at the figure that seemed to blend with the mists. The young woman’s hair was snarled with river grass tangled in it. Becka stepped forward, her legs quaking and her stomach flipping. The figure wouldn’t hurt her. “Arabella?” she whispered. “Ouí, ma soeur.” The figure floated toward her. She didn’t want the figure to touch her, fearing death, so she backed away until her back was pressed against the railing. “I shall not hurt you, ma soeur.” Becka could reach out and touch the figure. She wanted her sister to go back to from where she had come. “I cannot help you, Arabella. You must rest now.” The figure floated off the ground. “No one can help me now.” The mist swirled around Arabella nearly obscuring her from sight. “Attention, ma soeur. Attention!” “Beware of what, Arabella?” Her skin tingled and she rubbed her arms. “Of him.” The figure turned and pointed into the mist. “Of him.” Jacques Fortier walked toward her, strolling through the figure of her sister. Becka put a hand to her mouth to suppress the scream building deep within her. An evil smile played across his face and his eyes glistened. A tingle ran down her spine. The cold railing cut into her back, her thin dress becoming soaked by the mist. Her shivering increased and she couldn’t stop her teeth from rattling together. She hugged herself harder and wished herself away from all of them. “Genevieve, give me the necklace.” She looked beyond Jacques and saw her father sway and stagger 217


forward, his hand outstretched. “Go away.” She turned her head away. “Go away.” “They will not go, ma soeur. They will take your soul.” She shook her head. “No. They want the necklace. They only want the necklace.” The figure drifted past Jacques who appeared frozen. “They will take your soul and they will not rest until they have it.” Becka shrank down, trying to disappear in the mist, to disappear from all of them. They wanted, but she didn’t want to give them anything. “They will take your soul.” “I’ll give them the necklace and they will go away.” The figure drifted closer to her. “You have only one necklace, ma soeur. How can you give it to both of them? One of them will take your soul. Then your life.” The figure whipped around and moved toward the mist. “Which will you choose? Papa? Jacques? Neither cares for you.” The figure turned at the end of the heavy mist and looked back at her. “Neither cared for me. One took my soul. One took my life.” She disappeared into the mist. “Genevieve, I will have your mother’s necklace.” Papa weaved toward her. “The necklace is mine.” Jacques unfroze and strode through the mist. “It’s mine and I’ll have it back.” His fingers brushed against her shoulder. Her hand went to her throat and she felt the heavy necklace clasped around her neck. It strangled her and she wanted it off. She fumbled with the clasp in the back and pulled the jewelry free. “Have it.” She threw the necklace as hard as she could and heard it thud against the deck. Her father and Jacques dove for the necklace and disappeared in the mists. She sighed, relieved to be free of them. 218


“Who will get the necklace, ma soeur? And who will get your soul?” Jacques came out the fog, smiling. “Now that I have the necklace, I have no further use for you.” She cringed to the side, away from him. “I had no further use for your sister. Now you will go to join her.” He rushed at her. His hands went around her throat. She struggled, clawing at his hands. He lifted her from her feet and she couldn’t breathe. She raked her fingernails across the back of his hands and down his arms. “Bitch.” He pressed his face close to her. “Join your sister.” The cold, dark water sucked at her as she hit the surface. It wanted her, but she wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t. She had a reason to stay. Cooper. Where was Cooper? Why didn’t he save her? She could see Jacques’ face leering at her over the railing. “The necklace is mine.” “Who will have your soul, ma soeur?” “Cooper,” she screamed. “Cooper help me.” “He will not help you, ma soeur.”

219


CHAPTER 19

Cooper scrambled out of bed as the screams filled the hotel room, catching his foot on the sheet. He hopped as he yanked at it, trying to free his foot. “Cooper, help me.” Becka’s screams swirled around him. Someone must be in the room. How did they get past Sam? If it were a nightmare, Becka wouldn’t be screaming his name. She’d never screamed his name. The door to his bedroom crashed against the wall as he flung it open and raced across the small sitting room. The door to Becka’s room stood open. Sam wasn’t in the sitting room. He slid to a stop at her door and peered in, looking for the intruder. Sam stood with a lamp, next to the bed. He turned to stare at Cooper, his eyes wide, looking shaken. “She scream like the witches of hell after her, but no one here.” The lamp swung as his hands trembled. Cooper stared back for a moment then rushed to the bedside and 220


grabbed Becka. “Hush, sweetheart, I’m here.” She thrashed against him. “Cooper, help me. Please, help me.” “I’m here.” He held her more firmly, trying not to hurt her, but trying to keep a hold on her. “Becka, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” He crushed her to his chest. “Wake up.” The screams stopped as she shivered in his arms. She pushed herself back and looked at him, tears streaming down her face. “You came.” He hugged her again. “Of course I came. I’ll always come when you’re in trouble.” “She said you wouldn’t come.” Becka wrapped her arms around him and clung to him, sobbing. “Who?” “My sister, Arabella.” “Shush. Your sister’s dead. It was nothing but a dream.” He rocked her so she wouldn’t realize he was trembling. He glanced over at Sam who hadn’t moved. “I know. It was her ghost.” “It was only a dream.” Thank God. He’d been sure Fortier had found them and come after the necklace, but he didn’t know how that was possible. “It was so real. She warned me against Papa and Jacques saying they only wanted the necklace. When I threw it to them, Jacques put his hands around my neck and told me I would be with my sister and he pushed me into the cold, dark water. She said you wouldn’t come.” She gasped for breath as she leaned into him. “I came and now it’s over.” He stroked her tangled hair. “It was only a dream.” “It seemed real.” “I know.” He leaned her back and wiped her eyes. “I’ll sit with you a while until you calm down. While we all calm down.” 221


She looked at him and then at Sam. “I scared you both.” He shrugged. “Only a little. About ten years off my life. I’ll bet fifty off Sam’s.” An involuntary laugh escaped him. “Never heard him string so many words together at once before.” “I am sorry.” She clung to his arm. “Do not leave me.” “I won’t.” He turned to Sam. “Put the lamp on the table and you can go back to sleep.” Sam clutched the lamp in both hands and stood for a moment. Then he placed it on the table and walked to the door. “Don’t think so,” he muttered as he walked out and shut the door behind him. Becka leaned her head against Cooper’s shoulder. “I should go and apologize to him.” “He doesn’t blame you. It was a nightmare.” He rubbed her back, wanting to lift her head and kiss her. Wanting to hold her forever. Wanting his heart to stop pounding in his chest. “I scared you both. I do not like doing that.” “We’ll be fine in a bit.” He’d thought the nightmares would end once she was home. Once she had started to remember. “You’re sure it was your father, sister and Fortier in your dream?” “Ouí. I recognized them.” Maybe some of her memories were returning. “Were they the same people who were in your dreams before?” “I think so.” She shook her head against him. “I cannot be sure.” “Maybe you should try to get some sleep. I’ll sit with you.” He didn’t know how much longer he could hold her and not kiss her and touch her. Her body burned against his, lighting his passion. “I do not wish to shut my eyes.” He rubbed her back, hoping it would relax her enough she would slip back into sleep. She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “Thank you for being here.” She took his lips with hers, the heat from them searing into him. 222


Her tongue flicked along his lips, begging entrance and he opened his mouth a bit. His tongue greeted hers in a dance, hot and fiery. She ran her fingers through his hair then across the back of his neck sending tingles through him. His body responded to her touch, and he broke the kiss and laid her back on the bed. “This isn’t right.” “Why?” She pulled him down beside her and traced his ear with her finger. “Because….because, when this is over, another will come to claim you,” he gasped. He wanted her. She put her finger against his mouth. “I do not care. I shall lay with you.” “No, Becka.” She traced a pattern down his bare chest, tugging at the hairs growing there. She levered herself up and kissed his nipples. He sucked in a breath and cupped her breast covered by the thin linen of her nightdress. Her nipples stood out against the material and he rubbed them with his thumb, adding to the fire within him. She sucked at his erect nubs until he could think of nothing but taking her. He lifted the hem of her nightdress and ran his hand up her thighs, feeling the moisture between her legs. She moaned as he touched her and rolled back against the pillows, pulling him on top of her. “Make the dreams go away,” she whispered. The plea trembled all the way through him. He slid his long johns off, bracing himself above her. He gathered her nightdress about her waist and leaned down to kiss her. He wanted to douse the conflagration within him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, taking him into her. He groaned, deepening the kiss as he plunged deeper. He pulled back and her heels pressed against his back. He continued pushing in and out, her feet encouraging him, until he felt himself explode. He leaned his head 223


back and groaned loudly, then pulled her to him, hugging her tight. She intertwined her fingers in his hair and breathed raggedly in his ear. Clinging to him, she wrapped herself about him. “Do not leave me.” “I won’t,” he whispered, rolling to his side, holding her. Not tonight. Nor tomorrow. But soon. *

*

*

Phillippe slid open the back door of the Rawlings house and listened. They only had one servant, the old woman. She liked her drink as much as Rawlings did and would be asleep in her room this time of night. He wasn’t worried about her or Rawlings. He’d be unconscious and Monroe had been thrown out of the house. Fortier said the darky had stayed to protect Genevieve. He worried about him. Hearing nothing, Phillippe slipped a knife from his boot and crept through the kitchen, careful to avoid the damn stool he tripped over last time. If the wretched housekeeper had put it out of the way like most people, he would have had the necklace the other night. Tonight he’d surprise the darky and take care of him before he had a chance to jump him. Then he’d find the necklace and deal with Genevieve. Fortier wanted her dead, but he hated to waste such a beautiful woman. Rawlings wouldn’t rouse even if she screamed and Phillippe doubted the housekeeper would either. He could deal with the housekeeper if she did come to investigate. He crept through the dining room and into the hallway. The darky had to be on the stairs or near Genevieve’s room. He saw no shapes in the small amount of light that came through the sheer curtains over the hall windows. He climbed the steps and froze when one of them creaked, his knife at ready. No one came at him. He stared into the darkness and tiptoed up the stairs, cringing every time one of them creaked. Still no one came at him. Had Monroe taken his slave with him, not wanting to 224


leave such an expensive gift with Genevieve? Could he be that lucky? He reached the landing and saw no one. He entered the first door. The room was empty. Moving to the bed, he lit a lamp and looked around the room. Must not be the right one. He took the lamp and moved to the next bedroom. None of the beds had been disturbed. She’d flown with Cooper. Damn. He’d had plans for her before he took her and threw her in the river to join her sister. He searched each of the bedrooms, carefully at first so no one would know he’d been here, looking everywhere from the armoires to the closets, under the mattresses and the beds. Phillippe tapped the walls looking for a hollow spot and yanked up the rugs. After an hour, he’d found nothing. He slammed his hand against the wall. “Damn.” He walked to the closet and looked at the expensive clothing hanging there. This was all they had left. He took his knife and slashed the ball gowns and other dresses. He smiled when he finished and turned from the room. A beautiful woman without anything beautiful to wear was a sad sight and, if he couldn’t have her, then he could leave her something to remind her of him. He walked to the door and let himself into the hall and walked downstairs, not trying to avoid the creaks. No one would care. If Rawlings awoke and accosted him, well, Fortier would have Rawlings taken care of for free. He entered the parlor and heard Rawlings’ snores rattling the windows. The room reeked of alcohol. Where in this room would the man put the necklace? He searched it and when he didn’t find it, he thought of slashing Rawlings’ neck. If Rawlings had the necklace, he must have taken it to the bank. Fortier had said Genevieve claimed she didn’t have it. So maybe she hadn’t given it to her father. Maybe she’d given it to Monroe. Phillippe stomped out the front door, not caring if anyone was watching. At three in the morning, the neighbors were asleep or up to 225


something they wouldn’t want anyone else to know about and wouldn’t admit seeing him. Fortier would be angry he hadn’t found the necklace. Tomorrow he would have to find Monroe. Genevieve would be with him. And the necklace. And the darky. He’d just have to be ready for the darky. *

*

*

She folded her hands in her lap as she and Cooper sat across from Mr. Westcott in his office. “It is so nice of you to see us without an appointment.” “I would never turn you away.” He smiled at her and placed his hands on the top of his mahogany desk. “Can I get you some refreshment?” “No, thank you.” She studied the old man for a moment. He had to be ten years older than her father. Why would he want to marry her? Then a lot of old men married young women. She didn’t dislike him, but she couldn’t imagine sharing a marriage bed with him. Not after having shared her bed with Cooper. She hoped her face didn’t flush and give away her thoughts. “What can I do for you?” He smiled, a friendly smile that seemed tinged with sadness. Cooper leaned forward. “We want some information about Jacques Fortier.” Westcott studied them both for a moment. “This has to do with the necklace, doesn’t it?” “Yes.” Cooper shifted in the chair. “He offered a reward for the return of Genevieve and the necklace. A thousand dollars.” He looked at her. “If he’s as rich as Rawlings said, then why is he obsessed with the necklace?” Westcott leaned back in his chair. “With Fortier, one can never be certain. He doesn’t like to be bested at anything, and Genevieve taking 226


the necklace from him has put him in a rage. She’s only a woman and no man—and especially no woman—bests him. Especially a Rawlings.” “Why does he hate my family so much?” They had done nothing to him that she knew of. They were the ones who had been wronged. “Your father’s the only one who ever tried to stand up to Fortier. Most of his victims have just disappeared into the mist, but your father cried, ‘Cheat,’ and Fortier didn’t much care for that.” Westcott smiled again and leaned forward, using a conspiratorial tone. “His business fell off for a while. No one would trust Fortier. Those who know your father knew he had been cheated and Fortier was shunned.” “So he is in need of the money from the necklace?” Cooper drummed his fingers on the arm of the overstuffed blue brocade wing chair. “Probably, but that’s not all.” Westcott rose and went to his office door. Opening it, he asked the clerk on the other side to get tea and bring it into the office. “Come and sit where it’s more comfortable.” Westcott moved to a blue wing chair placed close to a gray marble fireplace. Two matching chairs made a semi-circle in front of the fireplace. Small round tables that matched his desk were placed between the chairs to make it easy to place drinks while discussing business. “Fortier came to this town five years ago with nothing. Then, suddenly, he was doing business with those of modest means and no real recourse against him. He increased his money and went after your father. Most times, Rawlings was a shrewd businessman, but he was known to take chances.” Westcott shrugged. “He could afford to.” Becka settled in the chair next to Westcott. “Did not Jacques’ reputation tell my father to be careful?” “No one knew of his reputation. It seemed spotless. When your father created a ruckus, then others looked at Fortier and refused to do 227


business with him.” “How has he managed?” Cooper took the third chair directly across from Westcott. “By going back to his old tricks of preying on those who don’t move in the same circles as your father.” Westcott paused as the clerk brought in the tea and set it next to him. Becka poured a cup and offered it to Westcott, then poured herself and Cooper each one. “Still, it seems he must be doing fine. He owns a riverboat. Or does he?” She pulled her brows together and frowned. “I seem to remember he owned the boat.” She looked at Cooper. He smiled at her. “That’s good.” “Yes.” Westcott squeezed lemon into his tea. “He owns the boat and makes a nice profit from the gambling.” “Then it seems my family has not caused him ruin.” “Just set him back a bit.” Westcott sipped at his tea. “He wanted to be part of the upper society, but he wasn’t born to it and didn’t gain admission because of your father. Then when your sister… There were rumors he threw her in the river and all the mothers locked up their daughters so he couldn’t marry into what he wanted.” “Why did he not marry my sister? That would have given him his goal.” Men and their clandestine workings didn’t make sense. “Because your father was in ruins and he wanted a wife whose father had plenty of money. After he threw your sister over, he courted another who would have given him what he wanted, until her parents found out about your sister and sent the girl abroad. Your family has foiled him at every step.” “So he would have the necklace back so my family will not recover.” She had felt the evil in the man when he had placed his hand upon her shoulder. He haunted her dreams. He would gladly see her dead. “I shall give him the necklace. Then he will have what he wants and leave my family in peace.” She looked at Cooper. 228


“I’ll take him the necklace. You’ll not be alone with him.” A fierce look came across Cooper’s face. “He’ll do you harm if he gets the chance.” She looked back at Westcott and saw he watched them intently. She blinked and looked down at her hands. She was still engaged to this man, yet he must know what she felt for Cooper. She was sure it showed on her face. “Be careful, Genevieve.” The sad smile came back to Westcott’s face. “He will do you harm. He blames your family and won’t rest until he sees you in ruin also.” “I shall be careful.” She would let Cooper take the necklace. She had no desire to meet Fortier in person again. Westcott put his hand on her knee. “He’ll not be satisfied with the necklace. I’ve heard he’s desperate for money. It seems he’s gone into legitimate business and the necklace is needed to finance it. Without it, he’ll lose everything.” He sighed. “But that won’t stop him from ruining you.” “What business?” asked Cooper. Westcott looked over at him. “Seems he wishes to build a riverboat town and name it after himself. He cannot buy his way into the society he wants, so he will build his own town. Some where in Arkansas. Where the White and the Mississippi come together.” “Oh, my God.” The words whistled from Cooper. She looked at him. “What?” “The ten acres Stevens wanted so desperately. That had to be for Fortier.” He set his cup down and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “Remember the day we went to town and bought Sam?” “Ouí.” “I saw Stevens go into the restaurant with a man I didn’t know. I think it was Fortier.” Cooper looked down at her, then shook his head. “Why didn’t he just try and buy the land from me?” He looked over at 229


Westcott. “I don’t know all of his dealings…only that he’s running out of money.” Westcott refilled his tea cup. “Then why would he let me have the necklace?” She sighed. It seemed strange Fortier wouldn’t keep such a valuable item locked up where no one could steal it. She glanced at Westcott. “I must have stolen it.” Westcott shook his head. “I doubt that. Fortier’s too careful. He never would have left it where it could’ve been stolen.” “How else would I get it?” She refused to let her mind think of the possibilities. Westcott shrugged. “He likes to have pretty women on his arm. Your father said you went after him for revenge. It’s possible he wanted to show off you and the necklace. He probably didn’t plan on you taking it with you.” Cooper laughed a hoarse laugh. “He didn’t plan on her falling overboard.” “Or losing my memory.” Westcott leaned forward and looked at both of them. “He won’t disappear into the night. He’ll keep coming until he has the necklace and has exacted his revenge.” He looked into her eyes. “Be very careful. The necklace alone won’t make him happy.” “Then she must go somewhere he can’t reach her.” Cooper laid his hand on her arm. “Leaving New Orleans won’t be enough.” Westcott leaned back. “She’ll have to leave the country.” “I do not wish to go to France.” She looked at Westcott and Cooper. They both seemed to be of the same mind. “I shall not go.” “Then you must find some way to deal with him.” Westcott picked up his cup and took a sip. “We’ll find a way.” Cooper crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll 230


not allow him to hurt her.” “I know you won’t.” Westcott sighed and turned to her. “Your father offered me your hand in marriage to improve his financial standing. I’m an old man and you’re a beautiful young woman. Your father’s desperate. Don’t hate him too much.” “I do not know him.” She had begun hating him. He wanted her only for the money she could bring him. “As much as I would wish to again have a beautiful wife—I had one who passed on and left an empty spot in my life—I know you aren’t to be that wife.” He smiled at her. “I regret that, but I accept it. I free you from your father’s promise.” He took her hand. “Your heart belongs to another and I couldn’t force you to honor what your father plans. I wouldn’t want my wife in love with another.” She bowed her head. She was thankful he wasn’t as stubborn and single-minded as her father. She couldn’t marry Westcott. She loved Cooper. Glancing at Cooper from under lowered eyelashes, she watched his face. A look of relief flashed across it. Last night he’d said he’d stay with her. Had he meant it? She could only hope. “If you need help, you may call on me at any time.” Westcott released her hand and stood. “I can’t stand by and watch Fortier hurt you.” She rose and took his hand. “Thank you.”

231


CHAPTER 20

Cooper opened the door to the carriage to help Becka down. “Wait, driver. We’ll only be a few moments.” She held her hands in her lap. “I do not wish to go in my father’s house.” She looked up at him with imploring eyes. “He will still be angry. What if…” Cooper frowned. “He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.” Sam appeared from the back of the carriage and smiled at Becka. “Come.” She shook her head. “I can do without my things.” “You need clothes and everything else. We left in such a hurry yesterday I didn’t give you time to pack. If you’re leaving home, take what belongs to you.” Cooper took her hand. She sighed, clinging to his hand, hoping to draw courage from him. “You are correct.” She stepped down from the carriage, straightened her shoulders and marched up the front steps, throwing open the door. 232


“Papa, are you here?” A snore rattled from the parlor. A door banged in the back of the house before Mrs. Kincaid stomped into the hallway. “I see you came back. He don’t have much use for you since you took up with that man.” She inclined her chin toward Cooper. Becka leveled a stare at her. “You should mind your mouth.” She straightened to her full height. “I am the mistress of this house in my mother’s absence and I shall sack you.” She flounced up the stairs. “Well, I never,” mumbled Mrs. Kincaid. “Who does she think she is?” The woman clomped back toward the kitchen. Cooper stifled a laugh. “It seems our Becka is becoming surer of herself.” He sat on the stairs. “I don’t guess she needs our help packing. Just carrying down the bags.” He patted the step next to him. “Sit.” Sam stared at him for a minute, then sat down, stretching his longs legs out in front of him. “Don’t tell Becka I’m getting a mite homesick.” Cooper gazed at the entry’s wood floor, in desperate need of polish. Rawlings was letting the property fall into ruins about him. If he had no money, he should have sold the house and invested the money. Started again. Instead, Rawlings had fallen into a bottle. “Yep.” Sam shifted and looked up toward the bedrooms. Cooper turned to study Sam. “You miss where you came from?” “Megan.” Cooper laughed. “She does have a fondness for you.” He patted Sam’s shoulder. “That’s what convinced me I could trust you. If my daughter could, I had to.” Sam looked at him with large brown eyes, a smile creeping across his face. “I miss her, too. And Maura’s cooking and Arnou’s kidding and Jacob’s questions.” He sighed. “I’ve never been away from them before. Every night of their lives, I’ve tucked the children into bed. I 233


hope they’re all right.” “Maura keep fine.” Sam leaned forward and rested his head in his hands propped on his knees. “She will. She loves those children like they were her own grandchildren.” “They be.” “I guess you’re right.” He listened to the rattling snore of Rawlings. Becka could pack and they could depart without having to see him. There wouldn’t be another altercation, which would be fine with Cooper. As soon as she was packed, he’d direct the carriage driver to take them to the docks and he’d book passage on the next ship to France for her. He hoped he’d have enough money to book passage for him and Sam home on the riverboat after he got Becka to safety. He didn’t much cotton to the idea of walking. Everything in New Orleans had cost more than he had expected. However, he’d never been in the big city, except when the ship from England docked and Chesterfield hadn’t spent any money on him or the others. “You have anyone to miss from your last home?” He turned to Sam. “No home.” “Where you were?” Sam shook his head. “You must’ve had a home sometime.” “Long ago. Little.” He sighed and shook his head. “Mama sold away. Cried.” He shrugged. “No one care. I big. Work hard. That all anyone care.” Cooper could see sadness in the man’s eyes. He knew how Sam felt. His life hadn’t been any better before he met Maura. “You have a family now. Megan loves you. She’d be mighty upset if something happened to you.” “Baby. Baby forget.” 234


“The rest of us won’t forget what you’ve done for us.” He could protect Becka himself, and with Sam about, he could take care of matters without worrying about her. “Done nothing. Little planting. Little watching.” “Hell, you did a lot of planting. I’ve never seen anyone as fast as you.” He straightened his shoulders and stretched. “I’m feeling guilty because I took you away from the farm and left all the work to Arnou. I should’ve brought Becka myself and left you to help, but I feel better with you here.” “Keep Miss Becka safe.” Sam appeared to stare straight ahead, his voice soft, but his meaning clear. Sam would give his life for Becka. Probably because she’d been the first woman who’d been nice to him. Except for Maura. Then, he’d probably protect all of them with his life. That was how Cooper had felt after he’d gotten to know Maura. In fact, he’d taken a whipping meant for Arnou because he feared Chesterfield would kill the boy. He’d suffered Chesterfield’s punishments before and he also knew that, because he was white and good with the horses, Chesterfield wouldn’t beat him to death. Arnou he would have. “You’ve done a great deal for us. In fact, when we get back to the farm, I’ll give you your freedom papers.” He laughed softly. “Probably ought to have Becka draw them up before she gets on the boat. Her lessons taught me a little, but not enough to be drawing up papers, and I surely can’t trust my neighbor.” Sam lifted his head and studied Cooper for a moment. “You want Sam go?” “Good heavens, no. I just meant you’d be free if you wanted to go, but we’d love to have you stay.” Sam shook his head. “No understand.” “Arnou and Maura are free.” Sam looked at him, his face blank. 235


“I don’t own them. Never did. A man named Chesterfield inherited them from his cousin. When Chesterfield died, Maura, Arnou and I ran off. It was easy, with me being white. No one questioned us. Everyone thought they were my slaves, and we let people think what they wanted. We went north and settled in a little town. I met Ellen, my first wife, there and courted her. Arnou and I did odd jobs to get by, but we had some money we’d taken with us when we left Chesterfield. Figured he owed it to me after all the years he beat me.” “Beat you? You not a slave.” “Color of skin doesn’t always make a difference on how people treat you. Chesterfield thought I was trash and treated me as such. My parents figured I was worth enough quid to buy a couple of bottles and sold me to him for that.” Sam studied his face for several seconds. “Not know how to be free.” “It’s not so hard.” Sam shook his head. “Not want to be alone. Miss Megan.” Cooper laid his hand on Sam’s leg. “You won’t be alone. Because you’re free doesn’t mean you have to leave. We can surely use your help. I’d like to plant more acres. Means more money. Then we could get more help.” He nodded to himself. All he and Ellen had wanted was a place of their own that would support all of them. “I gave Arnou the ten acres down by the river that’ll be good for rice. There’s a patch of ground to the west of me that’s unclaimed. I’m thinking about getting it. It could be yours to plant what you want and have a cash crop.” Becka called down. “I am nearly done. I am going to Arabella’s room.” Sam looked at him, his lips pursed and his brows pulled together. “I…” Becka’s voice came in a scream from upstairs. “Au secours!” Cooper bolted up the steps two at a time, his heart in this throat. 236


Sam beat him to the bedroom. The door crashed against the wall and Sam loped inside. Cooper rushed in behind him. Becka stood holding a dress clutched to her. She held it up as they skidded to a stop. “Look at this.” The dress was rent, looking as though someone had slashed it with a knife. She waved her hand around the room. “Look at this mess.” She pointed to the bed, the mattress slashed and the stuffing spilling out on the floor. Cooper put his hand over his heart that beat so hard he could barely hear her. Sam moved to check the window and the closet. “No one is here.” Becka wadded the material in her hands. “What’s all the ruckus about?” Rawlings staggered into the room. He stopped and stared at her. “Thought you left.” She held up the dress again. “Is that why you destroyed Arabella’s things?” She took a step toward him. He wobbled forward and ripped the material from her hands. He held it up and his face paled. “I didn’t do this.” He let the dress drop and looked around the room. Rawlings wobbled more, and Cooper took his arm and helped him to a chair. “Did you go out last night?” The man looked like death had visited and rejected him. Cooper couldn’t imagine Rawlings would have been able to go anywhere. Rawlings pushed his hair back from his face. He looked at Cooper, then at Becka, and shook his head. “I don’t remember anything much after you left. When I awoke, Mrs. Kincaid had a wet cloth and a bottle of whiskey. I used the whiskey to drown the pain.” His lip and nose were swollen. Becka sagged into a second chair. “Mrs. Kincaid would not do this.” “Of course not, daughter. The woman barely climbs the stairs. I 237


can’t remember when she last changed the linen or aired the rooms.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “She wouldn’t expend that much energy. If she were angry, she’d throw the dishes in the kitchen.” Cooper looked at Becka. She sat up straight, her shoulders squared. “Jacques.” Her father waved his hand. “He’s not the type who would break in.” “But he has those who would do it for him.” Cooper tightened his fists. He thanked God he’d taken Becka out of the house. The falling stool the night before had been something. He turned to Rawlings. “You’re lucky you weren’t hurt.” Rawlings waved his hand again. “I was in my chair. Not much of a threat.” He opened his eyes and looked at Becka. “I thought you were shed of me?” She looked at him for a long minute. “You are my father, but I shall not be goods that you may sell to better your condition.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I shall have no truck with your foolishness or your drunkenness.” “Go. Be with your mother. You are two of a kind.” He closed his eyes again and seemed to shrink into the chair. The room resembled his life. Torn to shreds. Cooper knew he should feel pity for him, but a man who would sell his own child was a man for whom he could only feel contempt. Nothing good ever came of selling flesh. “Come, Becka. Leave him to his sorrows.” Cooper reached his hand out to her. “The thief won’t return because what he wants isn’t here.” Becka stood and faced her father, tapping his foot with hers. “How am I to go to Mother, Papa? Am I to expect my rescuer to pay for that as well? Have you fallen so low that your own child must beg from others?” Rawlings opened his eyes and glared at her. “What do you want from me, daughter? Everything has been taken.” 238


“I wanted a father, but I was sadly mistaken.” She turned her back on him and walked toward the door. “Fortier took my desire from me.” Rawlings leaned forward. “Your chiding won’t bring it back.” “Then I must beg charity. I shall go to Westcott and ask him for the passage money to France.” “No.” Rawlings pushed himself from the chair. Cooper stepped between the two of them. He didn’t wish to have to use force a second time, but he wouldn’t allow Rawlings to hit Becka. Nor would he allow her to go to Westcott for the money. Somehow he would manage to pay her passage and get the necklace to Fortier. Though the more he saw, the less he wanted Fortier to have the necklace. Becka should return it to her mother. Rawlings fell back into the chair. “You aren’t a beggar as your father is.” Becka turned and her mouth dropped open. Cooper blinked and looked at Rawlings. “What are you speaking about?” “She has money. Her grandmother left her money. In a trust. For a dowry.” He closed his eyes and sunk into himself. “A trust only she and Arabella could touch. The old bat didn’t trust me not to spend their money and leave them with no hopes.” As he would have. Becka gasped. A heaviness lifted from his shoulders. Becka would have money for her passage, without Cooper spending what little he had left. He and Sam wouldn’t have to walk home and work on the way to survive. Not that he couldn’t hire Sam and himself out during planting season, but he wanted to see his family. Soon. “Why did you not tell me, Papa?” Her voice sounded like a growl. Rawlings blinked. “You would have left me and I needed you.” 239


“Where is my money, Papa?” Becka folded her arms over her chest, but her father no longer looked at her. “In my bank.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Go. Leave your father in peace.” Cooper looked at Becka. “Do you know where?” She shook her head. “Mrs. Kincaid will.” *

*

*

She sat in the chair and watched Cooper sprawled on the settee in their suite. Sam lay on the floor with his bowler hat covering his face, snoring faintly. Her nightmare had kept them all up last night and the events of the morning had left them tired. She thought of going and taking a nap, but too many thoughts raced through her mind. “Are you still awake?” she asked. She wondered if Sam would miss them if they slipped into the bedroom. Cooper rolled to his side and opened one eye. “Just laying here thinking.” “Me, too.” She sighed. “I am glad nothing happened to my father last night.” “If he didn’t love his whiskey so much, he’d probably be dead.” He leaned his head on his arm. “I’m thankful you weren’t in the house.” “Whoever broke in would not have hurt me until he found the necklace.” She unlaced her shoes and kicked them off, wiggling her toes. “You can’t be sure of that.” Cooper swung his legs over and sat. “If he couldn’t have the necklace, I’m sure he’d have hurt you. Not killed you, but hurt you so that you wished he had.” She shivered. “Do you think so?” He nodded his head. “We have to deal with Jacques.” “We need a plan.” He stretched and stood, walking over to look out the window. 240


“Are you still fearful someone followed us?” She went to stand next to him. The street, lined with flowering magnolia trees, appeared quiet. No carriages were parked nearby and no one loitered on the street. “Yes.” He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. “Last night told us all how serious Fortier is. I wouldn’t put it past him to have someone watching your father’s house for your return.” She snuggled against him. He drew a circle against her arm that sent tingles through her. With her head against him, she laid her hand on his arm. If she didn’t think Sam would come looking for them, she’d lead Cooper into the other room. “Is that why you insisted Sam ride inside the carriage?” Cooper laughed. “Yep. Anyone who’s seen the man will recognize him. It’s not like we can disguise him.” “He looked a little uncomfortable being inside with us.” Cooper smelled wonderful. Even in the city, he still smelled of the fields and soap. Not like her father. “We’ve probably made him a little uncomfortable ever since we met him.” Cooper leaned his head against hers. “It’s not like we’re an ordinary family.” “But a family many would cherish being a part of.” She felt safe and happy surrounded by those in Cooper’s family. Her family made her want to run screaming from the room. “It’s too bad the next ship for France doesn’t leave for a fortnight.” He kissed the top of her head. “Of course, you could sail tomorrow to England and then on to France.” She had no intention of sailing to either, but she’d given up arguing the point with him. “I would not like to be in England alone waiting for transport to France and my family.” She pulled away and looked into his face, filled with concern. “I am not sure where in France my family lives.” “I’m sure Westcott could tell you.” He grimaced. “Or we could go 241


back to your father.” “That is a chore for another day.” She went back to the chair. “Want some tea?” “Coffee.” He went to call the bellboy. “Jacques wants the necklace.” She leaned back and ran her stockinged feet across the rug. “And he wants you.” Cooper sat on the settee and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “You are sure he will not take just the necklace?” He sat forward and stared at her. “Of course not, but from what Westcott said and his actions last night, I don’t feel Fortier will just walk away with the necklace. Everyone knows you took it from him. After all, he offered a reward for the return of you and it.” She shook her head. “I must send him a note to convince him I shall meet him to discuss giving him the necklace. If he thinks I will come, maybe that will give us more time to figure a way around him.” “Not until you are on the ship to France.” She studied Cooper’s face for a few moments. Worry stared back at her. She touched the side of his face. “I do not think he will wait a fortnight, and I do not relish being locked in here for that long.” She looked around the room. Heavy green velvet drapes hung at the edges of the windows. A painting of a magnolia tree hung on one wall against the wallcovering of flocked green leaves. The room was nice and Cooper was spending more money than he ought, but she still didn’t want to be a prisoner for two weeks. “Besides, he might return and harm my father.” She held no love for the man, but she wouldn’t see him hurt on her account. “You’re correct. I’d feel better if you were on your way to safety, but we can’t put it off.” Cooper leaned back, his hands behind his head. “Send him a note that I’ll meet him on the morrow.” She didn’t want him going alone. Jacques might harm Cooper to get 242


at her. The man seemed to be one who would stop at nothing. “We should all go.” Cooper shook his head. “You stay here with Sam. I’ll deal with Fortier. Besides, I may have some business with the man other than the necklace.” She rose and started for the door as someone knocked. Cooper jumped up and cut her off. Sam sat up, his hat falling from his face. She put her hands on her hips. “I can answer the door.” “Yep, but you’re not going to.” Cooper peeked around the edge and let the bellboy in with the tray. “Set it on the table.” He pulled a coin from his pocket and handed it to the man. “I am not a porcelain doll who will break.” “And we don’t know if Fortier has found us.” He poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Sam sitting near the end of the table. Sam blinked several times and rubbed his eyes before taking the cup. He nodded to Cooper and took a sip. “Help yourself to the food.” Cooper stirred sugar into his coffee. She poured herself some tea and sat back. She was tired of being protected. She was tired of being frightened. She was tired of fearing to close her eyes to sleep. “What business do you have with Jacques?” “Westcott spoke about Fortier building a riverboat landing where my property is. That ten acres Stevens wanted. From the way Westcott talked, Fortier seemed to have the land, but I didn’t sell it.” “That must be why Stevens wrote that bit about Arnou’s and Ilde’s first born.” “He offered to give me Ilde and one of his other female slaves in exchange for the ten acres.” He took a sip of his coffee and stirred in more sugar. “I should’ve known there was more to it.” “But you can’t give Jacques the necklace.” “I have no intention of doing that.” He stared at her for a long moment. “A fortnight is a long time to stall the man. He’s going to 243


want something.” She set her cup of tea on the table and studied the silver service. An intricate pattern was traced in the silver, making it appear to be very expensive,but when she’d lifted the teapot, it weighed little compared to the one at her father’s house. As if it were made of something lighter and only made to appear the real thing. She smiled and looked up at Cooper. “Oh, I know what to do. A way to stall him until we can figure a way to deal with him permanently.” His brows furrowed. “What?” “Have a paste copy made and give him that.”

244


CHAPTER 21

Cooper knew his mouth must be hanging open. Where such an idea had come from he couldn’t fathom, or why she’d think it was worthwhile. Not only that, his dwindling finances wouldn’t pay for such a thing. “Think about it.” Becka fairly bounced in the chair. “I don’t see how we can do it.” “Oh, Westcott will direct us to a jeweler we can trust.” She took a bite of a biscuit. Chewing and gesturing with the chocolate creation in the air, she said, “It is perfect. Absolutely perfect.” She swallowed and brushed crumbs from her lips. “Jacques is a con man. He cheated my father and others.” “So we cheat him.” She glanced down and then back at him. “Just to give us more time.” “If he doesn’t know he has a fake, what’s to stop him from hurting 245


you?” She sighed and leaned back, nibbling at her biscuit. Then she waved her hand. “I have not figured out all of it, but if he does not know and takes the necklace to those he owes, then he will be disgraced. As those he cheated were.” She sat up. “It only seems fair.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled at Cooper. “If he’s bought my land from Stevens, then I’m among those he swindled.” Cooper reached for a biscuit and nodded his head to Sam to help himself. “But I don’t know.” “Even if he finds out the necklace is a fake, we shall still have a chip with which to bargain. You will be able to retrieve your land without having to prove that any deed he has for your land is fraudulent.” She took a sip of coffee. “And, if he tries to cause trouble, or harm me, we can tell him of the deception and that we shall not return the original until such time as you have your land back and I am safe.” Cooper rested his elbows on his knees. Becka’s plan would give them an ace to play. Something an owner of a riverboat and a gambler would understand, but it could go awry and Becka could end up dead. At the moment, he didn’t see a lot of other options. The only problem with the idea was the expense of having the necklace made. It wouldn’t be long before he was in the same financial state as Rawlings. “The plan might work if we had some way to pay for it it.” He studied his hands, not wanting to look at her, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t afford what she needed and wanted. “Money is not a problem.” He looked up at her as she nibbled at another biscuit. “These are not nearly as nice as what Maura bakes. They are a bit dry and hard.” He shook his head. She talked about biscuits and money as if 246


neither were of any import. “How can you say money is no problem?” “When I went into the bank earlier, I discovered Papa was telling the truth about my grandmother setting up a trust for Arabella and me.” She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I am being mean spirited, but he could not touch it. If he could have, I am sure he would have spent all of it.” She inspected the rest of the biscuit, then dropped it on the plate. “It is not a small trust, but a very large one. I can afford much.” “Set up as a dowry for you?” He wanted to move next to her and take her into his arms. He shifted, not wanting the others to read his thoughts as his body responded to the thought of being near her. “Set up as a dowry, ouí.” She clapped her hands together. “But also set up as an allowance. My sister and I were to be given a set amount each year for our personal needs, so we would never have to rely on our husbands for support.” He stared at her. He should have gone into the bank with her when they had stopped, but she had assured him that she could handle the business alone and he really didn’t want to pry. “But you should use that money to care for yourself.” “What do you think having a second necklace made is doing?” He pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “Are you sure you can afford it?” “Oh, ouí. My grandmother must have been very wealthy. I am sorry I do not remember her. She also was very good at investments, or so the banker said. She would never let Papa handle any of her money. She called him a nincompoop.” She gazed into space for a moment, then shook her head. “With Arabella gone, all of it comes to me now. She had no one to leave her share to.” “So you have your allowance for this year.” As much as he hated to admit he couldn’t support her, at least she wouldn’t have to do without, and maybe he could borrow the money for the riverboat ride home. 247


Even so, she couldn’t have that much money. A grandmother would have left her enough to survive on, but not what it would take to keep her in a grand style. “It seems I only used part of my allowance the years I lived in France. I have three years’ allowances coming, plus one from Arabella. She used most of hers until Jacques took up with her, then the banker, thinking of her best interests, refused to give her all of the funds, but gave her monthly amounts. He feared Jacques would take her money and leave her destitute. Jacques tried to get the trust broken and all of the money given to Arabella. Even my share.” Another reason to stop the man. Cooper, if he was right about his land, too, needed to stop the man. Permanently. “So you have—” He swallowed twice trying to find the words to ask how much money she had. “—a few hundred dollars?” “Thousands.” He choked and looked at her, his mouth agape. He closed it and opened it and closed it. His voice had disappeared. “I took three. I thought we might need it.” “Thousand?” “Ouí.” She frowned and her eyebrows came together. “Should I have taken more?” “Three thousand dollars?” He gulped. What if she were robbed? What if Fortier’s crony showed up? “That is too much to be carrying around. Someone could steal it.” “Not with Sam always nearby.” She giggled. “Once we have found a discreet jeweler, I am gong to buy my men some new clothes. You are looking a tad worn about the edges.” She leaned back, her hands clasped in her lap. “If you are going to meet Jacques, you must appear the proper businessman. We want him to take you seriously.” She looked over at Sam. “And if you are going to follow me everywhere, then it is time for some new finery. I seem to be well known in this 248


town and have an image to maintain.” She giggled again. “Not that I really care, but if we are going to fight Jacques, we must look as if we have the strength.” “Becka…” She seemed so delighted with herself. “Do not be upset with me. I have no one else in my life with whom to share my good fortune. You are the only family I have.” He didn’t want her to think of him as family. He couldn’t take her back to the farm. Her life was here. As she said, she had a reputation to maintain. She couldn’t be seen with the likes of him dressed in shabby clothes. He looked down at his trousers. Maura had made them for him and done a fine job. “Becka, I’m not upset. But… how much money are you talking about?” She shrugged. “The banker did not divulge to me the amount in the bank, only the amount of our allowances.” “Which was?” “Four thousand dollars a year each.” He tried to breathe, but the air stuck in his throat. He’d saved for four years to have enough money to buy Sam and, if he hadn’t gotten a bargain, he’d have had no money to bring Becka to New Orleans. Four thousand dollars a year for her to spend on dresses and whatever hit her fancy. She was wealthy beyond his dreams. Wealthier than Chesterfield had been. And now she had her sister’s four thousand dollars. And he was nothing but a poor farmer. *

*

*

Cooper walked into the fancy restaurant and spotted Fortier sitting at a table in a back corner. The room was dark with the only windows covered with heavy gold brocade drapes. The tables were covered with light gold linen tablecloths and the floor covered with a heavy gold carpet that absorbed footsteps. Several small crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the light sparkling around the room like stars at night. 249


A few patrons sat at other tables, all speaking in hushed voices. Mostly men conducting business. He squared his shoulders and walked toward the table. His new tan linen suit fit him perfectly and he was ready to deal with Fortier. He looked the part of a rich businessman and would act the part. A man dressed in a black suit stepped into his way. “May I help you, sir?” “No, thank you. I see the gentleman I’m meeting.” Cooper pushed past the maîtrè d’ and walked up to Fortier who remained sitting. He pulled out a chair and sat across from the man, studying his face. Fortier seemed at ease, sipping at a drink. “I see you’re prompt.” Fortier placed his glass on the table. Cooper nodded. Fortier leaned forward and sneered. “I expected you not to show at all.” A waiter dressed in a white suit with a linen towel over his arm appeared at Cooper’s side. “May I bring you a drink, sir?” “Coffee.” Cooper didn’t glance up, but continued to watch Fortier. The man wanted to intimidate him and take the upper hand in the dealings. He was sure this was how Fortier always dealt with those he deemed difficult or beneath him, but Cooper had seen the other side of him the day he’d tried to get the necklace from Becka at her father’s house. He wouldn’t play the game according to Fortier’s rules. “What? No whiskey?” Fortier leaned back, a smile crossing his mouth but not touching his eyes. Cooper folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. “I came to discuss business, not drinking habits.” “A civilized man conducts business over a drink.” Fortier raised his empty glass so the waiter could see it. Cooper didn’t consider Fortier a civilized man, but a scoundrel and he didn’t much care what Fortier thought of him. As soon as Fortier 250


learned he was a farmer from Arkansas, he’d think him a country bumpkin, easy to cheat, but he’d find out differently. He might be a country bumpkin and Fortier a con man who had cheated others, but Cooper knew what to expect. The others had been caught unawares. “Coffee does as well.” Fortier watched the waiter set the drinks down, then took a sip of his. “Do you have the necklace?” Cooper nodded. “I have it.” “Then give it to me.” Fortier leaned close, his voice lower, nearly a growl. Cooper smiled. He’d faced evil before without flinching. Fortier wouldn’t find him easy to intimidate. “We have other business to discuss first.” “Hah.” Fortier banged his glass on the table. The restaurant became quiet and Cooper could feel people’s stares bore into his back. He flexed his fingers. “I want the necklace.” “I want my land.” Fortier paused and stared at Cooper. He frowned, his eyebrows pulling together. “You found Genevieve and the necklace. I want only the necklace.” He drummed his fingers against the top of the table. “Other than that, I have no business with you.” “You’re planning on building a riverboat landing in Arkansas near the White River.” “What has that to do with you?” “I own land there.” Fortier smiled and nodded his head. “I already have all the land I need. It’s too late to try and get in on the deal, even if you have my necklace.” “Miss Rawlings’ necklace.” 251


“Her father gave it to me to pay a debt.” Cooper leaned forward and lowered his voice. “As I hear it, it was a debt created out of thin air and worth as much.” “Are you calling me a cheat?” Fortier’s face turned red. Cooper smiled again. An angry man was a man more prone to mistakes. An angry man acted not on what was the best course, but on what appeased his anger. “I simply state what I have heard from reputable sources.” “Then hear this.” Fortier glowered. “The necklace belongs to me and I will have it.” “It was around Miss Rawlings’ neck.” He leaned back. “Doesn’t that mean it belongs to her?” “No.” Fortier’s voice reverberated around them. The waiter standing at a small distance glared and took a step toward them. Fortier waved his hand and lowered his voice. “It’s of no matter if she wore it or not. I didn’t give it to her.” “Fine. But the ten acres along the White belong to me. I don’t remember selling them to you.” Fortier stared at him, his face blank. He took a long sip of his drink, swallowed and took another sip. He set the glass down. He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s still too late. I have a deed to the land and I’m not cutting anyone else in on my deal.” He took another sip of his drink. “It would’ve been easier to deal with you in the first place, but I truly thought the land belonged to your neighbor Stevens.” “But it doesn’t. So how could you have a deed?” No wonder Stevens had wanted the land in exchange for Ilde. Writing in that he claimed Ilde’s and Arnou’s first born had been a brilliant idea to get Cooper to sign over the land, but it hadn’t worked. “Stevens signed the property over to me after you sold it to him.” Cooper straightened his shoulders and laid his hands on the arms of 252


the chairs. The land was a bargaining chip for Becka’s safety. Not that he could give Fortier Arnou’s land—nor would he—but Fortier didn’t know that and wouldn’t until it was too late. “I never sold the land to him.” “He said you sold it to him for traveling money.” Fortier’s face paled. “He lied.” “That’s not possible.” Fortier’s shoulders sagged. “He showed me the deed with your signature on it.” “Which I didn’t sign.” Fortier grabbed his glass and finished it in one gulp, then waved it in the air for a refill. Sweat formed on his brow and he wiped at it with the back of his hand. His eyes darkened and he gripped the arm of the chair. “I have the deed.” “It’s a forgery.” Cooper smiled. Fortier’s turn to be duped had come, and by Stevens who didn’t seem all that smart himself. And Cooper and Becka would dupe him again. Fortier slammed his fist against the table and glared at the waiter who frowned. “It can’t be.” Cooper stirred sugar into his coffee and smiled. Then he took a sip before setting the cup back down. “Now, we have some business to discuss.” “What do you want for the land?” Fortier took a gulp of his drink. “I’ve paid Stevens, but I’ll pay you.” He slammed the glass against the table, sloshing some of the whiskey over the edge. “I’ll even give you the cut of the profits I promised Stevens.” “I’m not interested in having a riverboat landing so close to my home. It attracts too much riff raff. I don’t want them around my family, especially my little girl.” Cooper relaxed in his chair and forced himself to smile. “I’ll fight you in court. My deed will stand.” Fortier’s brows furled 253


together and his eyes became slits. “I think not. Stevens might’ve thought he could get away with selling my land, but he is a coward and won’t be able to stand up in court to verify what you say.” “Then he won’t appear in court.” Fortier’s face had flushed red again and the vein at his temple throbbed. His hands were balled into fists. “What do you want?” “I want Genevieve’s safety assured.” “For that, you’ll give me the land.” The sides of Fortier’s mouth turned down. “For that, I’ll deal the necklace.” “My necklace.” Fortier slapped his hands, palms down, against the table. “Which I have.” “Fine.” Fortier picked up his cigar from the crystal ashtray and smashed it. “What do I care about the chit? She is nothing but an annoyance. She and her father. Give me the necklace and we’ll discuss the price of the land. Everyone has a price.” Cooper stirred his coffee and smiled. He picked up his cup and sipped the warm liquid. He set the cup down as Fortier ground the cigar butt into shreds. “How do I know I can trust your word?” “I am a gentleman and a businessman. Others will tell you I am as good as my word.” Cooper laughed, a harsh sound. Fortier actually believed others feared him so much that none would say a harsh word against him. “The talk I hear is that you aren’t to be trusted.” “I’ll have the necklace and the land.” “I’ll have Genevieve safe.” Fortier pulled a new cigar from his pocket, clipped off the end, and lit it. A puff of smoke filled the space between him and Cooper. “I’m no longer interested in her. Once I found out she was a Rawlings, she 254


held no appeal. The Rawlings women are far too emotional for my tastes. Always demanding and becoming hysterical when they don’t get their way.” He leaned forward, his voice low. “That is how Genevieve ended up in the river. I’d found out her secret that she was a Rawlings and, when I tried to send her away, she jumped overboard. Just as her sister had.” The twitching at the side of his mouth belied his voice’s calm. Cooper couldn’t imagine Becka jumping. She was too full of life. Even half-drowned on the riverbank, she hadn’t seemed the type who would take her own life. “Why was she wearing the necklace?” Fortier waved his hand in the air, but he squeezed the cigar cutter too hard and it flipped onto the floor. “One last visit with what had been her mother’s. Of course, when she begged to wear the necklace, I didn’t realize who she was.” He leaned back in his chair, trying to look calm except his face was still flushed and beads of perspiration clung to his forehead, matting the piece of hair combed across it. “She was trying to steal it. When I demanded she return it to me and leave my boat, she jumped. If she couldn’t keep the necklace, she was going to make sure I didn’t have it either.” Cooper considered the story and knew Fortier lied. “I’ll give you the necklace on your promise Genevieve will be safe. Her father also.” He didn’t hold any credence for what Fortier said, but they had to have time to board Becka on the ship to France. Fortier held out his hand. “Give it to me.” “I’m not carrying it. I’ll have it delivered to your office in two days.” The vein at Fortier’s temple pulsed again. “Now.” “We’re having it cleaned and the clasp repaired. It was damaged in the accident.” Cooper sipped his coffee. “Like hell. I won’t wait.” Fortier knocked his glass over, sending a brown stain across the gold linen. 255


“You have no choice.” “Damn you.” Fortier swept the glass from the table. “Fine.” He ground his cigar between his teeth. “Now the land.” “It’s not for sale.” Cooper forced himself not to laugh. Fortier had lost control, which would make him dangerous, but also rash. “I need it.” “So do I.” “You can make much more from the profits of the landing than from farming the land.” “I am but a simple farmer.” Fortier leaned closer. “I can’t change locations. Everything is in the works. I will have that land.” He bit down and part of his cigar fell onto the tablecloth, burning a hole in it. “Sir…” The waiter approached. Fortier gave him a scalding look. “Get the hell away from me.” The man backed away, a scowl on his face. Fortier glared and his eyes flashed. “Remember. You have more to worry about than Genevieve. You have a family. A very nice family.” Fortier’s face contorted into an evil smile. A chill ran down Cooper’s spine. He needed to go home and protect his family, but how could he leave Becka? If anything happened to her, he’d bury his heart again. But… “I’ve met them.” Fortier jumped from his chair, sending it crashing backward. “It would be too bad if you never saw them again.”

256


CHAPTER 22

Jacques ran his fingers over the necklace. Finally, he had it back in his possession. His backers would arrive any moment to take the necklace and give him the cash he needed to pay for the rest of the supplies. The building would start within a week. His town. Along the Mississippi. Maybe New Orleans wouldn’t let him become part of their society, but he’d have his own town and it wouldn’t matter anymore. He laid the necklace back in its blue-lined box and snapped shut the cover. He went to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. It had taken him a while, but he’d found the hotel where they were staying. As soon as he had the cash, he’d have Phillippe take care of Genevieve and Monroe. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone kicking up a fuss over the legal owner of the land. Of course, when he got back up river, he’d deal with Stevens. He didn’t take kindly to being cheated. He smiled to himself and sat behind his large desk, running his 257


fingers over the polished surface. He’d worked very hard to have what he did. Only the finest furniture. And whiskey. He took a sip and enjoyed the smooth warmth of the liquid. A dirt farmer like Monroe wouldn’t understand that, but the farmer did have slaves on his property he wouldn’t need anymore. And that big man was worth a fortune. Selling them would make up for the misery Monroe had caused him. Those white children weren’t worth anything, but it wouldn’t take much to dispose of them, if they hadn’t been done away with in the fire Phillippe had set. Now he hoped the darkies had only been scared and not injured. The old woman wasn’t worth much, but the young man looked healthy. At least a thousand dollars for him alone. Jacques lit a cigar and watched the smoke curl. A rap sounded at the door. He slid the necklace into the top desk drawer and leaned back in his chair. “Enter.” Jeffery opened the door and stood to the side to allow a thin man dressed in white linen to enter. Jacques continued to puff on his cigar. “Nice to see you, Mr. Beckworth.” Franklin Beckworth sat across from Jacques and laid his widebrimmed straw hat on the desk. “We’d given up hope of hearing from you.” “I told you I’d have the necklace.” Beckworth snorted. “After you lost it and the girl in the river, little hope existed that you would.” He looked around the office. “Of course, we’d have been happy with the Lady Belle and the rest of your possessions to pay off your loans.” Inwardly Jacques groaned, but continued to smile. “Would you like a drink?” “Bourbon if you have it.” Jacques nodded to Jeffery who went to the bar and poured a glass of bourbon for Beckworth. 258


“That’ll be all, Jeffrey.” Jacques pushed the box of cigars toward Beckworth. Beckworth picked one out and snipped off the end. Jeffrey left and shut the door behind him. Beckworth pulled in on the cigar as he lit it and then blew out smoke. “Very nice.” He leaned forward. “Now, let’s see the necklace. I haven’t all day.” The man acted as though it was beneath him to enjoy a drink and a smoke with him. Some day he’d make Beckworth and the others pay for what they had put him through, hounding him for the last fortnight over the damned necklace. He pulled open the drawer and extracted it. Sliding it across the table, he smiled. “You’ll find it all I said it was.” Beckworth set his cigar in the crystal ashtray and opened the box. “Hmmm.” He picked up the necklace and held it to the light. “Exquisite.” He pulled a jeweler’s loupe from his pocket. “Is that necessary?” Jacques leaned forward. “The Rawlings had the thing appraised, so you know what it’s worth.” Beckworth nodded. “But you haven’t.” He glanced up. “And it was out of your possession for quite a long period of time. Who’s to say what the Rawlings chit did. Or her father for that matter. He isn’t as stupid as you believe.” Jacques took a gulp of his whiskey. Nothing else would go wrong. He had the necklace back and, with it, his good fortune. He held his breath. Beckworth put the loupe to his eye and examined the necklace in several spots. Then he stood and walked to the window, holding the necklace in the light. Dropping the loupe back into his pocket, he walked to stand in front of Jacques and let the necklace clatter against the polished surface of the mahogany. “What are you up to?” He stared, a hard look coming to his eyes. Jacques sputtered, “I…don’t know…what you’re…talking about.” 259


Beckworth’s laugh was deep and booming. “This time, you play the sucker.” He picked up his glass and took a drink. “It’s a very nice paste copy. Worth two or three thousand dollars at most.” Holding his glass, he stared at Jacques. “Unless you’re trying once again to cheat those with whom you engage in business.” Jacques sprang from his chair and grabbed up the necklace. “What?” Beckworth leaned against the desk. “Not all of us are as gullible as Rawlings. We won’t be cheated. You owe us a great deal of money. We shall be repaid.” A smile flickered at the edges of his mouth. “We won’t be wasting our time with you in court.” Jacques stared at the necklace. His heart pounded in his ears. Everything was slipping through his fingers. Because of the Rawlings. “No.” He strode around the desk. “You’re trying to cheat me. It’s the real thing.” Beckworth glared, a darkness flashing across his face. He picked up his cigar and ground it out in the ashtray. “I have no reason to cheat you. I’d rather have the necklace than your second-class possessions.” He waved his hand to indicate the cabin of the Lady Belle. “Second-class!” Jacques sputtered. Everything he owned was the finest money could obtain. The old goat was jealous of his success and wanted retribution for his friends’ misfortune. He should never have gone to Beckworth and his friends for money. If he hadn’t been desperate. “I won’t let you cheat me.” “Someone will be around tomorrow to collect.” Beckworth turned toward the door. “I guess the Rawlings win in the end after all.” He sneered. “I’ll get the real necklace.” Jacques’ voice rose. A pain shot through his chest and he clutched the necklace to it. “I’ll get the real one.” Damn Monroe and Genevieve. He wouldn’t let them best him. “Jeffrey,” he bellowed. 260


Jeffrey opened the door as Beckworth reached it. “Yes, sir?” “Find Phillippe. Now.” *

*

*

Cooper sat on the settee with his arm draped across Becka’s shoulders. Fortier’s threat still plagued him, but he hadn’t told her. She had enough worries. He wanted to go home and check on his family. Arnou was there and he could take care of things. And Maura. Maura could shoot a squirrel at sixty paces, and wasn’t afraid to defend those she loved. She’d vowed never to lose her family again. But still… Becka leaned back her head. “Woolgathering?” “Thinking of home.” He smiled at her. “I miss them, so you must have a large ache to see them.” He nodded. She kissed him. “Thank you for taking my troubles as your own.” He wished they were just her troubles. Somehow Fortier had managed to snag them all into his deceits, but Cooper had decided he would find a way out and keep everyone safe. “I couldn’t bear to see you hurt.” He looked at her lips and wanted to kiss her again. For the first time in days, they were alone. Sam had gone on an errand for Becka and would return soon. He pulled her close and captured her lips with his, tasting her sweetness. Her body folded into his, sending bolts of lightning through him. He stroked the side of her face as he deepened the kiss. Pulling back, he looked at her. She smiled. “You’re so beautiful.” He wrapped a tendril of her hair around his finger. “So beautiful. So soft.” Pampered. As she should be. As women should be. She laid her head on his shoulder, a smile on her lips. Lips that were kissable. 261


“Once you’re in France, I’m sure you’ll find someone to marry and make a life with.” He didn’t want to examine the statement too closely. He wanted her. “Maybe you have someone there waiting for you?” She snuggled into him, running a fingertip down the side of his face. “It does not matter. I do not care to return to France.” She traced a path down his chest. “I have had sufficient of my family.” “You don’t know what your mother may be like. She may miss you terribly and need you after losing your sister.” Becka lay still for several seconds. “There are other matters to concern us at the moment.” “Fortier has the necklace. We haven’t heard anything, so hopefully he hasn’t discovered the deceit yet.” He pulled her close again. For this last bit of time they were together, he would hold her and pretend she belonged to him. “We may buy the time we need to get you on the ship to France.” She wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him. “How would we know if he did discover the deception?” Cooper returned her kiss, briefly. “Hopefully we won’t because he doesn’t know where to find us. Neither does anyone else.” “Then we are safe.” “For the moment.” Fortier knew where to find his family, but Cooper had the real necklace to deal for their protection, though he had no intention of parting with it until he could be home to protect them. A knock sounded at the door. He gave her a final hug and stood. “Did you order anything?” “It is probably Sam.” Cooper nodded and answered the door. A young boy stood holding a note in his hand. A dirty brown cap covered dirtier brown hair. “Mr. Monroe?” “Yes.” Cooper glanced up and down the hall, looking for anyone. Who had discovered their whereabouts? 262


The small boy held out a note clutched in his grubby hand. Cooper fished in his pocket for a coin and gave it to the boy as he took the crumpled letter. He smoothed it out as Becka joined him. “Who is it from?” She laid her hand on his arm. Cooper shrugged. “I don’t know.” He handed it to her. “My name is about all I can pick out.” She took the letter. “It is from Mr. Westcott.” “Addressed to me?” She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “He wishes to speak with you. It is a matter of some importance.” “I have no business with Westcott.” Cooper folded the note and stuck it in his pocket. “How does he know where we are?” She stared at him, his eyes wide. “He should not.” “Fortier.” A chill ran up his spine. “He’s discovered our deception.” She touched his arm. She trembled. “Maybe not. Westcott could have discovered where we are and have information for us.” Uncertainty shone in her eyes. He stroked the side of her face. “I doubt it.” “We shall go and see.” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. His stomach did a flip. It was a trap. One into which he wouldn’t let her walk. “I’ll go alone.” She drew back. He placed his fingers to her lips. “Alone.” *

*

*

She walked over to the window and stared into the street for what seemed like the hundredth time. She saw no sign of anyone walking. No carriages came down the street. She sighed. “Where is he?” She turned and stared at Sam. Sam sat in one of the wing chairs looking uncomfortable. The chair seemed a trifle too small for him, but he’d squeezed in, his legs stretched out in front of him. He stared at her, then shrugged. 263


“He has been gone three hours.” She stomped back across the room and flung herself on the settee. “Nothing happen massar.” She looked up at Sam’s soft brown eyes. He didn’t seem concerned, so why did she feel so unsettled? She couldn’t sit still. “Maybe some tea would help.” She rang for the bellboy then paced back to the window. A carriage made its way along the tree-shadowed street and stopped in front of the hotel. She sucked in her breath. Her heart beat rapidly, blocking other sounds from her ears. The carriage door opened and a young man stepped out then helped a young woman down. The air issued forth from Becka, and she slumped against the window. She put her hand against her heart trying to calm it. Sam was right. Cooper could take care of himself. She jumped when a knock sounded at the door. She turned to see Sam unfold himself from the chair and amble over to answer it. The bellboy stood in the hallway smiling. She walked over to the door. “We would like some tea.” “Yes, miss.” He held out a paper. “This came for you.” She took the note. Her fingers fumbled with the envelope, ripping the edge. The letter fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, opening the folded paper, and reading the message. “Non. Non,” she screamed and she crumpled to the floor. “Non.” She shook her head. “It is not possible.” Sam pushed the door shut and knelt beside her. “Miss Becka?” She rubbed at her eyes, wiping away the tears. What would she do? “Miss Becka?” Sam looked at her with imploring eyes. “What?” She held up the letter and let it drop back to her lap. Only she could read the message. She straightened and smoothed out her dress. She should rise from the floor, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. She rocked back and forth. Nothing could happen to Cooper. He was all she had. All she knew. And she loved him. Nothing must happen to him. 264


“Miss Becka, what?” Sam’s tone came louder. She looked at him again. For a moment she’d forgotten he perched near her, concern on his face, fear shining from his eyes. He, too, needed Cooper. “Jacques has Cooper.” She swallowed, forcing her heart out of her throat. She swiped at her eyes with her hands, feeling the moisture of her tears. “He will trade the real necklace for him. I must bring it alone.” “No.” Sam stood and towered over her. She leaned back to see his face. “I must or he will hurt Cooper.” “Massar have my hide let you go see bad man.” Sam put his hands at his waist. His eyebrows knit together and he looked like a thunderhead about to explode. She reached out her hand. Sam helped her to her feet, but the expression on his face didn’t ease. She walked to the settee and sagged into the cushions. “I have to take Jacques the necklace. Then he will let Cooper go.” She looked at Sam who hadn’t moved from the spot by the door. A rap sounded at the door and she jumped. Sam opened it, glaring out. The bellboy stood with his mouth open. He gulped twice. “Do you still want tea?” Sam glared at him. “Yes.” He slammed the door and turned to face her, blocking the exit. He folded his arms across his chest. She would never get by him. She could order him away from the door, but she didn’t think he’d listen to her. She folded her hands in her lap and blinked several times, focusing her eyes. “I must go, Sam.” “Massar be very angry.” “Not if he’s dead.” “Even if dead. Very angry me let anything happen Miss Becka.” “Sam.” “No.” He didn’t move or flinch. 265


The man who did whatever he was told had suddenly disappeared, and it was obvious where his loyalty lay, but then, he did belong to Cooper. “I must save Cooper.” He held up his hand. “Massar say my job make sure you safe.” He nodded his head. “Say most important job. You safe even he not.” She looked at him. “I am the one who has to take the necklace, or Jacques will kill Cooper.” She believed the threat. “I need him, Sam. I need him.” She wiped at the tears again, hating them for making her feel weak. “I love him.” “I know.” She stood and straightened, trying to look as tall and as in control as possible. “I shall take the necklace and exchange it for Cooper.” “Bad man kill you effen you go.” “All he wants is the necklace.” Jacques might try to kill her, but she would put her life at stake for Cooper’s sake. He would try to rescue her. Sam shook his head. “Bad man want hurt you more than have necklace. No let bad man hurt you. Massar be unhappy with Sam. Send away.” “Cooper would never send you away.” “Something happen Miss Becka, massar send me away.” He nodded. “Massar love you. Heart break if something happen Miss Becka.” She wasn’t sure how heartbroken Cooper would be if she did die. She thought he might love her, but he pushed her away every chance he got and he was determined she go to France. “I am sure he will miss me, but I would rather have him alive to miss me.” “I miss. Not let get hurt.” He shifted against the door. “I take necklace.” “Jacques stated it had to be me.” “Sam take.” 266


*

*

*

Cooper woke with a start, blinking to clear his vision. Where was he? He tried to move, but his arms were held in place. He looked down and realized he was tied to a chair. His head throbbed and his stomach churned. Where was he? He looked around. It appeared to be a large, empty room. Several small windows were at roof level and a small amount of light filtered in, so he hadn’t been here long, or he’d been out for a very long time. He couldn’t tell. He shook his head to clear his vision and regretted it. The pounding in his head increased. He wiggled his hands, testing the tightness of the ropes holding them behind him. The rope cut into his flesh and he gritted his teeth. He struggled against the bindings and the chair tipped, taking him to the ground. The jar against the floor reverberated through his body, making his shoulders hurt and his head pound. He had to clear his mind and figure a way out of here. He spit out the grit from the floor. Whatever this place, it hadn’t been used in a very long time. The emptiness seemed to echo the silence. He tried to remember what had happened. He’d gotten the note and taken a carriage to Westcott’s building. He remembered getting out of the carriage and walking toward the steps. That was the last thing he remembered. At least Becka was with Sam and he would keep her safe. Still, he had to find a way to escape. If something happened to him, Fortier would take his land and Arnou would have a hard time proving Cooper’s signature wasn’t on the deed. No one would believe a black man over a wealthy white landowner. All of them were in danger. Footsteps echoed through the room. Hands lifted the chair and set it upright again. He could feel someone behind him, but he couldn’t see who it was. 267


Fortier appeared in front of him, dangling the necklace. “You thought you could swindle me.” “So you figured it out.” “You thought I wouldn’t know the difference.” Jacques puffed up and folded his arms across his chest. Cooper realized Fortier hadn’t known. “Someone told you.” Fortier sputtered. “No.” Even with the pain in his head, Cooper couldn’t help but smile. “So?” Fortier would offer to trade him for the necklace, but he couldn’t let Becka get involved. “I want the real necklace.” “I’ll send for it.” Fortier raised his fist. “Genevieve will bring it. She’ll gladly trade it for your life.” “She won’t come.” If Fortier got his hands on her, he’d kill both of them. “I’ve already sent her a letter telling her I’ll kill you if she doesn’t bring it. Alone.” Fortier paced back and forth in front of Cooper, clenching and unclenching his hands. “If she brings that darky with her, I’ll kill you.” He smiled. “She won’t let that happen.” “He won’t let her come alone.” “Then I’ll have the necklace and be rid of you and her.” Fortier laughed and the eerie sound bounced off the walls of the empty room.

268


CHAPTER 23

She stood on the dock, the necklace in her reticule, clutched in her hands. Her knuckles ached from holding onto her bag, afraid someone would grab it from her. Not that anyone would know she carried such an expensive piece of jewelry, but she continued to glance about, looking for anyone suspicious. The place was pretty much deserted, not a busy dock, but one used for unloading farm goods shipped down the Mississippi. Only one boat was tied up and it seemed deserted. Two Negro men stood leaning against a post where the dock connected to another. They leaned their heads together talking, ignoring their surroundings. A light breeze blew in from the river chilling her to the bone. She shivered and pulled her cape tighter. More than the wind made her shiver. She had to face Jacques, and somehow she and Cooper had to walk away. She couldn’t leave those two children orphans. On the off chance that happened, she’d left a letter instructing her 269


bank to send her allowance to them so none of them would do without. She looked up the wooden walkway, waiting for Jacques to come and bring Cooper. If he came alone, the two of them could overwhelm him, but she imagined he’d bring someone with him. He didn’t seem to be the type to do his own dirty work, but then, she’d come prepared. Sam was slumped next to one of the pile of boxes that dotted the wharf, and she knew he watched her every movement. No longer dressed in his coat and bowler hat, he wore the clothes in which he’d worked in the fields, blending in with the others standing about. A straw hat hid his face and made it appear he napped, waiting for someone to give him orders. She looked up the length of the wharf and saw that the Negroes had disappeared. She and Sam were alone. She looked at the water churning against the pilings, then in the direction Jacques had to come from. The wind whipped at the edges of her cloak. The sun would be setting soon and she didn’t cherish the idea of being out here after dark. Jacques had said to meet him here. His first letter had told her to come to a warehouse, but Sam had refused, saying he couldn’t protect her. She had countered with the suggestion of meeting at a public place like a restaurant, but Jacques had insisted on the wharf. Sam had finally relented, but he had to come with her, so they had arrived more than half an hour before Jacques was due so Sam could hide. She paced closer to the stack of boxes, glad Sam was close. She looked up into the sky at the puffs of white clouds that danced across it. Near the horizon, the edges of the clouds were dark, as though a storm brewed. She shivered again, feeling the darkness surrounding her. She wished Jacques would hurry up and arrive before her fancifulness got the better of her. She looked toward the end of the wharf and beyond. Three figures moved toward them. Holding her breath, she studied them as they moved along. The air rushed from her lungs. She could make out 270


Cooper and, while he struggled against another man, he seemed all right. At least he walked on his own. Part of her had feared he was already dead. She hadn’t wanted the thought to creep into her mind, but it had hovered at the back, plaguing her. Jacques really didn’t need Cooper alive if he got her on the wharf. He could forcibly take the necklace from her. Or at least he thought he could. “They’re coming, Sam.” She kept her voice quiet and her face turned away from the approaching figures. He shifted, cocking his hat so she could see his eyes. His legs extended behind an empty box to disguise his size. A ratty piece of tarp covered most of his body. Jacques would be looking for him. She forced herself to release her reticule with one hand and let it drop to her side. She took in a deep breath and held it for a moment, then forced a smile onto her face. She wouldn’t show Jacques her fear. Jacques strode toward her ahead of Cooper and the other man. An evil smile played across his lips. His eyes had a cruel look to them. “I see you followed my directions and left your darky behind.” “Ouí.” Her legs wanted to take a step back, but she refused to move no matter how close he came. She looked past him to Cooper. “Are you all right?” “At the moment.” The taller man held Cooper’s hands behind his back. He shoved him forward a bit, then yanked up one arm and held a knife to Cooper’s neck. She sucked in a breath and looked to Jacques. “You said you would turn him lose if I brought you the necklace.” Her heart skipped several beats as she watched the knife. The late afternoon sun glinted off it. One wrong move and Cooper would be dead. Her knees went weak. Had she brought death to all of them? “And did you?” Jacques sneered. 271


“Ouí.” She clutched her bag in both hands again, trying to control her trembling. She wasn’t giving him the necklace until he released Cooper. “Then give it here.” She shook her head. She could see the muscles in Cooper’s jaw bulge. His stance was rigid. His gaze begged her to be careful. Jacques stepped toward her, his hand out. “Give it to me.” The muscle along the side of his face twitched. She stepped aside, not wanting the man to touch her. Her cloak couldn’t keep the cold from seeping into her. “Not until that man lets Cooper go.” “You have no choice.” She gritted her teeth for a moment as Sam moved. She shook her head. “Choices always exist.” “Give me the necklace and I’ll let you go.” Jacques held out his hand as he crept closer to her. She studied him for a moment. “I do not believe you.” He glowered and moved closer. “Trust me.” “So far you have proved untrustworthy.” She backed away from him. Her fingers ached from gripping her reticule, but she couldn’t release it. “And you have been honest?” He pulled the paste necklace from his pocket and threw it at her. It landed against her skirt and dropped to the ground. She scooped it up and shoved it into the pocket in her petticoat. She might as well have it to remember the real thing if they got out of this. “We did what we had to, to insure our safety.” And that of Cooper’s family. He hadn’t said anything to her, but Jacques must have threatened them the way Cooper had acted the last few days. “I see giving me a fake as nothing more than cheating me.” “Did you not cheat my father to obtain the necklace in the first 272


place?” She forced herself to smile, to appear calm, when all she wanted to do was run screaming from this place. “He owed me money.” Jacques raised his hand. “Now give me the necklace.” Pulling it from her reticule, she took a step toward the edge of the wharf where she held it up. “Release Cooper.” The man behind Cooper smiled and her blood froze. The little finger on his hand that held the knife twitched. She stood, squaring her shoulders. She wouldn’t allow the man to slit Cooper’s throat. “Hand me the necklace, now, or he dies.” She held her hand up higher. “I shall throw it in the river unless you let him go.” Jacques took a step toward her, then paused as she swung her arm toward the river. “Stop,” he bellowed. He smiled at her. “Let’s not be unreasonable. Give me the necklace and I’ll let him go.” “I am not being unreasonable.” She watched the man holding Cooper hostage and caught a faint movement out of the corner of her eye. Sam was on the move. She had to keep Jacques’ attention focused on her. “You release Cooper and I shall hand you the necklace. Otherwise, I shall send it back to the river.” Jacques pulled a pistol from beneath his coat. “I’ll send you back to the river where you belong.” Her breath caught in her throat and, for a moment, the world swirled. “Not while I have the necklace.” “What is to stop me from shooting you and taking the necklace?” “It will be in the river before I fall.” Jacques studied her for a moment. “You’ll both be in the river before long.” “Then why should I give you the necklace?” She had to get Cooper away from that knife. He had more than just her depending upon him. 273


If she died, would anyone miss her? She hoped so, but she doubted it would be her family. “No, Becka,” Cooper yelled. She glanced at him and back, not wanting Jacques to turn around. She dangled the necklace as she stepped to the edge of the pier. The river rushed around the pilings and would pull her and the necklace out to sea. “When you shoot me, I shall take the necklace with me once more. Nothing you do can stop that…unless you release Cooper.” Jacques watched her every movement, but waved his hand at the man holding Cooper. “Release him.” “Don’t give him the necklace, Becka. He’ll kill you.” She shook her head. “Not today.” Her heart calmed. A scream filled the air and the man behind Cooper went to the ground clutching his arm. The knife skittered across the wood and splashed into the river. Jacques turned to see Cooper and Sam barreling toward him. He growled, turned and fired at her. She screamed and fell, feeling the cold water surround her. Her lungs ached from the lack of air. Her right shoulder stung. She tried to kick her feet, but her skirts and petticoats tangled about her ankles and dragged her down. The water around her surged and churned. A body fell past her. She forced herself away from it. Hands grabbed her and she clawed at them, but they thrust her upward. Her head broke through the water and she gulped in air as she flailed against the hands holding her. She didn’t wish to die. “Becka, stop. It’s me. Cooper.” She gasped and threw one arm around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his legs kicking against her as he kept them afloat. Other hands grabbed her and she screamed. “It’s only Sam.” She sobbed and clung to Cooper. “Where’s Jacques?” 274


“In the water somewhere.” She heard water splashing behind her, then Cooper lifted her and Sam pulled her to the wharf. He reached down and lifted Cooper, who took her into his arms. “Don’t see bad men.” She looked over Cooper’s shoulder. The man who had been with Jacques had disappeared. She looked into the river. She saw no sight of Jacques. “Is he gone?” Cooper shrugged. “Sam hit him pretty hard, knocking him into the river.” “I go in and find?” Cooper looked over the edge at the water. “The water’s pretty murky.” He looked back at Becka. “No. He should pop up. Then we’ll pull him out and take him to the constable for trying to kill Becka.” “That will be the end of it.” She looked into the water. The water that had plagued her dreams. The water that had tried to take her life twice. She shivered. “He is not coming up.” Cooper leaned forward. “Maybe he swam away.” Sam dove in. He popped to the surface and shook his head before he dove again. The third time he came up, he climbed back up beside them. “Don’t see.” “He probably swam away. He knew he’d lost.” Cooper took her into his arms. When his arm went around her shoulder, she groaned. He pushed her back and looked at her. “The son-of-a-bitch shot you.” She looked down. Blood trickled down her dress sleeve. A small tear showed near her shoulder. She touched her shoulder and winced. “He did.” Cooper turned her back toward the street. “We’ll get a carriage, get you dried out and take you to the doctor.” Sam stopped in front of them. “Still have necklace.” 275


She looked down. Clutched in her right hand was the necklace. She could feel the weight of the paste one in her pocket. She laughed. “We are alive and we have both necklaces.” Cooper clasped it around her neck. “Now you look like you did the day I found you.” “Drowned but rich?” He laughed. The coldness left her. She sagged against him. “Is it really over?” Would the dreams go away now if Jacques no longer threatened them? Would she feel safe? But more importantly, would Cooper see they could have a life together. “It’s over. We’ll contact the authorities. That way, when Jacques does surface, he’ll be dealt with.” “We shall all be safe.” “And you can go back to your life.” Cooper brushed a piece of wet hair back from her face. “I do not wish to go back to my life.” “But, Becka, it’s the only thing that makes sense. You have money and can live in luxury. You have a family in France who’ll want you to return to them.” “But I do not wish to live with strangers.” Cooper looked at her for a moment. She smiled at him. “It is the same as when you fished me from the river before. A beautiful dress, a beautiful necklace, but no memory to go with them.” He frowned, his eyebrows coming together. “You remember going in the river today.” “Of course I do.” She took his arm. “But I still remember nothing of what happened before you found me on the bank.” *

* 276

*


Cooper looked at Becka and knew she held back tears. It tore at his heart, but he didn’t see any choice in the matter. He took her hands in his. Soft hands. In fact, the blisters she’d developed while staying at his farm had healed, leaving nothing but unblemished skin. These were not hands that should do the heavy work it took to survive on a farm. “I do not understand.” She pulled her hands from him. “It is my choice where I go.” “Bec…Genevieve.” The name stuck on his tongue, but that was her name. He looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to see the sadness in her face. He’d seen that look too often in his life. He’d never been able to protect anyone from the sadness. Not Maura when Chesterfield took her children and sold them. Not his children when their mother died. But he’d rather see the sadness now than watch her work herself to death. “You don’t belong on a farm.” “What right do you have to make that decision for me?” She stomped her foot and put her hands at her waist. “I am of age and free to go where I wish.” “Yes, but I won’t have you on my farm.” His heart ached. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her. He wanted to kiss her one last time before he and Sam took the boat north to home. Home where his family waited for him. She stepped away from him. “Why am I no longer welcome?” He shook his head. “It’s for the best.” “Who is to say what is best. You?” she snapped. “I know what a hard life I live.” He held out his hand, but she batted it away. “You’re used to the finest things. You won’t be happy struggling to get by.” “I can help you.” She swiped at her eyes. “I have money with which to help.” He didn’t want her money. He wanted her. He could provide for his own. “You’ll find farm life too lonely. You’ll miss the parties and nice 277


things you have here.” “What nice things?” She swept her hand in an arc. “Everything is rented. Nothing belongs to me.” “That will change.” He sighed. He’d wanted to leave without hurting her. She’d suffered enough. “The boat for France leaves in two days.” He let his arms fall to his sides. “If you wish, we’ll stay with you until then. That way you won’t be frightened.” She glared at him. “I have nothing to be frightened of any more. Jacques is gone. My father does not know where I am.” “Then we’ll leave.” Cooper wanted to be away before he could change his mind. Before he could make the foolish decision to take her with him. She had no place in his life. He wouldn’t allow himself to love her and then watch her work herself to death like his late wife. He’d gotten her to safety and now he would return to where his heart would be safe. Where he couldn’t feel anymore. “I shall not go to France.” She stomped to the settee and threw herself upon it. “I shall not leave here.” He shuddered at the thought of her alone in New Orleans with no one to look after her, but he couldn’t stay and do that. He didn’t belong in this place. “Then I’m sure you’ll find a husband, a young husband who’ll give you everything you deserve.” He hated the thought of another man taking her into his arms and making love to her. His Becka. But she was Genevieve and Genevieve belonged in New Orleans. “At four-and-twenty, if I had wanted a rich husband, I am sure I would already have found one.” “It doesn’t matter. I’m not the man for you.” “Why?” She stared into his eyes, tears filling hers. He looked away not wanting her to see his desire. “Because I can’t give you the kind of life you grew up in.” “I know nothing of that life.” 278


“Now that you’re safe, you’ll remember and you’ll be glad you didn’t settle for less.” He turned toward Sam and the door. He grabbed his bag and the packages Becka had wrapped for the others. Fine dresses for Maura and Ilde. A new bowler hat and shirt for Arnou. Toys for the children. He stopped at the door and looked back at her. “Is there anything I can do before I go?” “Take me with you.” “Thank you, Genevieve, for the presents. The others will enjoy them.” A weight settled on his shoulders. It seemed heavier than it had when he’d buried Ellen. Happiness would stay behind in this room with her. His children would bring him gladness, and that would have to be enough. “Do not call me that.” He turned back and stared, open mouthed. “What?” Had he called her Ellen? “Genevieve.” “That’s your name.” She rose from the couch and marched toward him. “No. Genevieve died in the river. My name is Becka.” He shook his head. “Genevieve Rawlings is who you are.” And because of that she would stay and he would go. “Good-bye, Genevieve.” He walked out the door with Sam following. “Cooper, do not leave me.” She sagged against the door, then swiped at her eyes. How had it come to this? He had just walked out of her life. She beat her fists against the wood. “It is not fair. Why does no one want me?” Her father wanted her money. Westcott wanted her, but for what reason? To show off his young wife. To make him feel young again. She wanted someone who cared about her. Someone she could love. 279


She wanted to be part of a family. She didn’t remember her life before washing up on Cooper’s shore, but she knew she’d never been part of a family. She might have had all that money could buy, but she’d missed the one thing money couldn’t bring her. She’d missed the love and feeling of belonging. She leaned her head against the door and let the tears flow down her cheeks. She hugged herself and remembered the feeling of love that filled Cooper’s kitchen. They were a family and she loved them. Most of all, she loved Cooper. She sniffled. “Do not leave me, Cooper. Please do not leave me. I love you.”

280


CHAPTER 24

Cooper smacked the reins against the back of the horses as he neared his farm, wanting to be home, and to know for sure that everyone was safe. Sam held onto the wagon seat, staring forward as if he, too, wanted to see home again. They’d only been gone a bit over a fortnight, but Cooper’s stomach was in a knot, fearing Fortier had followed through on his threat. He was pretty sure Fortier had drowned when he’d gone in the river, but they hadn’t found his body. He could have swum away. But without the necklace, he wasn’t much of a threat. Plus, they’d filed a complaint with the constable about the kidnapping and attempted murder. Becka’s money had spoken loudly and a manhunt had taken place. He drew in his breath as they finally drove close enough to see his farm. He didn’t notice anyone in the fields, but they might all be inside. 281


It was dinner time. Surely Maura had food waiting. He was ready for one of her meals. “Almost there, Sam.” “Yes, massar.” Sam still stared into the distance. “I meant what I said about setting you free.” He glanced over at the big man. His face remained expressionless. “I also meant what I said about you staying. The cottage you stayed in will be yours and we’ll work out a deal for the exchange of labor.” He could see the house and his heart beat faster. “That way, all of us make money.” “Yes, massar.” “You’ve got to stop calling me that. Except maybe if we go to town.” “Yes, massar.” “Glad to be back?” He was. He wanted to hold his children and know they were safe. He’d never leave them again. “Yes, massar.” “Bet Maura has something delicious she’s feeding everyone. She’ll have enough for us.” “Hope so.” “Food on the riverboat wasn’t all that good.” He had to keep talking until he reached the others. The silence bore down on him. The uncertainty of fear not spoken. The house grew in size as they drew close. Cooper stared at it. Something wasn’t right. “Oh, my God,” Cooper cried out. The top floor of the house was missing. Charred and blackened pieces of wood extended toward the sky. The trees at the side of the house blocked his view of the cabins where the others lived. Sam’s grip tightened on the wagon. “Fire.” “He said he’d harm them.” Had Fortier won after all? He should never have left his family. His feelings for Becka had caused him to place his family in danger. If he’d lost them, he would 282


never forgive himself. He tried to urge more speed out of the horses, but they didn’t respond. The landscape about him moved in slow motion. The charred upper floor grew more monstrous the closer they came. His heart thudded in unison with the pounding of the horses’ hooves. He pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the house and jumped down, staring. Sam stood beside him. Cooper took in a deep breath and held it for a few moments. “Maura. Arnou,” he yelled. Getting no reply, he jumped up the steps and threw open the door. The place looked deserted. No smells of cooking came from the kitchen. No sounds came from within the building. He ran outside and jumped down the steps, heading for the cottages behind the trees. They had to be there. They had to be safe. He couldn’t have lost everything. “Maura. Arnou,” he shouted. He could hear Sam lumbering behind him. He smelled cooking and his heart sank out of his throat and he could breathe again. “Pa.” Jacob flew down the steps of Maura’s cottage and flung himself at his father. Cooper swung him up and gave him a bear hug. Arnou followed with Maura behind him lugging Megan. Ilde brought up the rear. Megan squirmed and kicked until Maura set her on the ground and she toddled toward Cooper with her arms outstretched. Cooper reached for her and she squirmed away, reaching toward Sam. “Little traitor.” He smiled. His heart slowed. His family was safe. Sam swung Megan into his arms and she kissed one cheek and patted the other, then laid her head on his shoulder. “Sam.” She continued to pat his cheek. “I can see she missed me.” Cooper laughed. For the first time in days, a lightness came to his heart. Arnou laughed and threw his arms around Cooper, giving him a 283


bear hug. “We missed you.” Maura pushed Arnou aside and hugged Cooper. Tears formed in her eyes. “I haven’t been gone that long.” He enveloped her in his arms. She dabbed at her eyes with her apron. “We’ve been worried.” Cooper wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moved her back toward the cottage. “What the hell happened here?” “That man after the necklace showed up a few hours after you left. That night the house caught fire.” Maura leaned her head against Cooper. “We got the fire out before the whole house burned, but we haven’t had time to start repairs.” Arnou took Ilde’s hand. “We’ve got most of the fields done and the rice started. That’s been a full-time effort.” “I wouldn’t expect you to rebuild my house without me here.” He shuddered, remembering the bedrooms where his children slept were gone. “You got out. That’s what matters.” Maura smiled at him. “Actually, I brought the children here with me. Thought they’d be less upset about you being gone.” He kissed the top of her head. “Bless you.” She shook off his arm and marched toward the cottage steps. “Dinner’s getting cold. Come along.” Cooper smiled at Sam. “We’ll finally get a decent meal. What’re you serving?” “Fried chicken, corn bread, potatoes, gravy and green beans. Got berry pie for dessert.” She flung open the door and marched in. “Arnou, grab a couple of chairs. Ilde, get two more plates.” “Ma, we’ve only got one extra chair.” Sam set Megan down. “Sit on floor.” Maura shook her head. “Not in my kitchen.” She looked about. “Megan can sit in my lap. We’ll get another chair from the house later.” “Megan sit Sam.” She reached up her small arms to him. 284


He lifted her and sat where her plate was smeared with food. Maura slid the plate to the side and set one in front of him. He picked up his spoon and fed Megan a bite, then himself. He scooped up a green bean and put it to her mouth. She shook her head. “Yuck.” She pursed her lips together. Cooper laughed. For such a bit of a thing, she definitely had a mind of her own. Sam scooped up more beans and put them in his mouth, chewing slowly. “Ummm. Ummm.” Megan looked at him for a moment, then the plate, then back at Sam. “Ummm. Ummm.” He continued to chew the beans. “So good,” he said after he swallowed. She snagged a bean from his plate and shoved it into her mouth. “Ummm.” Home. He was so glad to be back. Here everything made sense. They planted the crops and harvested them. They ate together and shared their hopes and dreams. No longer did Sam have to sit outside the restaurant and have a plate brought to him, while he and Becka sat at a table and were served by waiters. He never wanted to leave here again. “Pa.” Jacob looked at Cooper over the edge of his glass. He reached for another piece of cornbread and the honey. “Yes?” “Why didn’t Miss Becka come back with you and Sam?” Jacob set his glass down and stared at Cooper. “Her home is in New Orleans.” Maura cut the pie into pieces. “She has family there who want her with them as we want your pa with us.” Jacob’s face scrunched up as though he thought about Maura’s words. “Is that true, Pa?” “She has family.” 285


Sam looked up at him, then back at Megan. A twinge went through Cooper. He missed her. “That’s where she belongs.” *

*

*

Cooper wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood next to Arnou in the field. He’d only been home a few hours, but it felt as though he’d never left, except… He heaved a sigh and pulled more seeds from his bag. Sam was already half a field ahead of them. At this rate, they’d have the last two fields planted by the end of the week. The rice would still be in the starting boxes and wouldn’t be ready to go in the ground yet, so he could decide what to do about the house. If he was going to rebuild it, he’d need to go to town and buy lumber. Maybe there’d be a sale if all the lumber Fortier ordered had arrived. He didn’t know if he wanted to rebuild. He could build another cottage by Maura’s and Arnou’s large enough for him and the children. The house had been for Ellen. But then the worth of the farm was increased by the main house, so he supposed he should repair it. “Deep in thought?” Arnou’s voice startled him. Somehow Arnou had gained several steps on him. He nodded and moved forward. “Want to share?” Arnou bent and tucked a seed into the dirt. “Trying to decide what to do about the house.” “Rebuild, of course.” “I guess.” Arnou stopped and faced him. “What’s the problem?” “What do I need a big house for?” “The children.” “They won’t care. They’re happy staying with Ma.” Cooper wiped 286


at his forehead again. “You planning on bunking with Sam forever?” Cooper laughed. “No. I thought maybe a smaller house near yours.” Arnou shook his head. “Oh, no. That’s my spot.” “You got Sam there.” “Well, I’ve been thinking on that. We ought to move him down closer to the creek. In that other patch of trees.” “Gonna throw your mother out, too, so you and Ilde can be alone?” “I’m not crazy.” Cooper laughed. “I gave Sam his freedom for his help.” Arnou nodded and went back to planting. “Thought I’d buy that piece of land we’ve been looking at by the White and give it to him.” “Sounds right.” Everyone would have something of their own. Everyone would find their piece of heaven. Except… He pushed thoughts of Becka from his mind. Becka had never existed. A fine lady named Genevieve did. A fine lady who lived in New Orleans. Where he wouldn’t live. “You sure we won’t be bothered anymore by that man who was after Becka?” “He’s dead or gone.” Cooper stared up watching puffs of white float across the sky. “That’s good.” “Yeah.” The breeze blew around him, cooling him. Fortier was gone, but Stevens still had a hold on Cooper. Or so he thought. “You workin’ today?” Cooper looked and saw Arnou ahead of him again. He’d lost his rhythm. “Don’t look like it.” “I’ve missed working with you. Too many years in the fields together.” 287


“Yeah.” “Are you listening to me?” Cooper blinked. “Yeah.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead again. Then he put on his hat. “I’ve got matters to attend to.” He walked out of the field toward the barn and his horse. He rode to Stevens’ place in his work clothes. He no longer cared about making an impression on the man. He only cared about dealing with him. He tied the horse to the hitching rail in front of Stevens’ house and strode up the stairs. He pounded on the door and, when Stevens’ Negro woman opened it, he pushed by her and strode down the hall toward Stevens’ office. “Wait, Mr. Monroe.” The woman scurried after him. “Mr. Stevens isn’t seeing anyone today.” Cooper didn’t slow. “I don’t rightly care.” He pushed open the door to the study and saw Stevens slumped behind his desk. Stevens jumped up. “What are you doing here?” “I tried to stop him, masser.” The woman wadded her apron in her hands. Stevens waved a hand at her, then glared at Cooper. “Get out.” He sat back in his chair. His hair was mussed and his tie hung loose around his neck. Cooper stomped to the desk and leaned against it, his palms flat on the table. “We have business to conduct.” “I have no business with you.” Cooper wanted to grab the man by the throat. If not for his lies, his family wouldn’t have been put in danger. He had to straighten out the deed to his own land and prove Stevens had forged his signature. Even with Fortier dead, he had to attend to the matter. Someone would come along to claim Fortier’s land and he wouldn’t have them claiming Arnou’s ten acres. “You cheated me.” 288


Stevens looked at him, than waved his hand in dismissal. “I didn’t cheat you. I gave you a good price on that woman.” “I’m not talking about Ilde.” Stevens looked at him for a moment. “I don’t know what else you could be talking about. That’s the only business the two of us conducted.” “Not according to Jacques Fortier.” Stevens’ face blanched. He stood, walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. He faced Cooper. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Fortier and I had a long talk while I was in New Orleans.” Cooper pulled a chair to the desk and sat. “He told me about the ten acres you sold to him that didn’t belong to you.” “He lied.” Stevens sat at his desk, slopping whiskey over the edge of his glass. He wiped at it with his sleeve. “I don’t think so.” Cooper leaned forward. It took all of his willpower to not throttle the man. “He showed me the deed you signed.” Stevens pressed his hands against the desk top. “It’ll be your word against his and mine. You won’t be able to prove anything.” “Fortier’s dead. There isn’t going to be a town.” Stevens shrunk into himself. “He was supposed to be here two days ago. He’d have taken care of everything.” Like ridding Cooper of his family. He took in a deep breath and gripped the edge of the desk to keep from grabbing Stevens. He needed him alive. For the moment. “He’s not coming. I took care of everything…except the little matter of the forged deed.” “What do you want me to do?” Stevens picked up his drink and downed it. Cooper pulled some papers from his pocket. He smoothed them on the desk. “Sign these.” 289


“I’m not signing anything.” Stevens stood and walked back to the bar. “Plan on trying to sell my land to the next person who wants to build a riverboat landing?” Cooper didn’t know how Stevens could think he would get away with such an idea. “Fortier had backers.” “Not willing to kill a whole family to get ten acres they could as easily have paid for. You’re lucky Fortier isn’t around. I doubt he’d have given you whatever he promised. The look on his face when I told him the papers were forged told me he’d probably have killed you also.” Stevens crumpled into his chair. “What do the papers say?” “That you admit you stole the land from me by forging my name to a fake deed.” He shook his head. “I won’t sign that. I’ll be ruined.” “You’re already ruined. I have no intention of quietly walking away. I intend to let everyone know you’re a thief.” Cooper held a pen out to Stevens. He looked at Cooper for a moment, then took the pen and uncorked the ink bottle. After he’d signed, he scanned the document and slid it back to Cooper. One done. Now he had to get Arnou’s and Ilde’s first child back. “One more.” “What for?” “I’ll have the first born of my man and your woman.” “I won’t sign that.” Stevens pushed himself back from the desk. “I’ll have something out of this.” Cooper stood and grabbed Stevens by the shirt front. “You’ll have nothing. My house was burned, my family threatened and nearly killed because of your greed. You’ll sign this or I’ll have the sheriff out here arresting you for stealing my land.” 290


“But…but…I signed it back to you.” “Now you’ll sign the child back to me.” Cooper shoved the paper under Stevens’ nose as he released him and the man fell into his chair. Stevens’ hand shook as he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the paper. “It won’t do you any good. Others will come and take your land and I’ll have the child. You’re nothing but a bumpkin. You can’t even read or you wouldn’t have been so easy to swindle.” Last time. Next time he’d find someone to read for him. He’d learned the appearances of being learned wasn’t as important as knowing what he signed. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He picked up his papers and strode toward the door. If he graced Stevens with a reply, he probably would strangle him. “You won’t get away with this,” Stevens called after him. “I’ll have that child. You can’t threaten me like this.” Cooper walked through the door. A glass crashed into the wall and sprayed his back. He had already gotten away with it. Stevens couldn’t harm him. *

*

*

Cooper sat on the porch of his house staring out at the night sky. He’d been back three days and he still couldn’t concentrate. Arnou and the rest were ecstatic they no longer had to fear Stevens. Any child they had would belong to them. Sam had settled in and worked like a mule. He didn’t seem to mind sharing his quarters with Cooper. He looked up at his house and sighed. It seemed strange the only bedroom that had survived the fire was the one she had used. He tried to keep his thoughts from her, but he couldn’t. She plagued his dreams at night and stole away his sleep. When he’d buried his wife, he’d sworn he’d never give his heart to another woman, but he had and now she was dead to him. Arnou plopped down on the step below him, chewing on a blade of grass. “Thinking about what you’re gonna do with the house?” 291


Cooper looked at him and then up at the stars. “Yeah.” Arnou looked into his face, then shook his head. “Thinking about her ain’t gonna bring her back.” “She’s gone.” “That the way you want it?” “She’s better off with her own kind.” “Rich?” Cooper nodded. “Yeah.” “Sam said her father’s a drunken lout.” Cooper sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Sam doesn’t use that many words.” “Be surprised. He also said Becka wanted to come home with you.” Cooper tightened his hands into fists. “What was I supposed to do? Bring her here to work herself to death?” “It’s not such a bad life. I kinda like it.” “We’re used to it.” “She could get used to it.” “She’s never done a day’s work in her life.” Cooper stood. “Sit. I’m not telling you what you did was wrong.” “It wasn’t. She’s not cut out for farm life. It’s hard.” “’Course it is.” Arnou laid his hand on Cooper’s knee as he sat. “If I could give Megan everything, I would.” He didn’t want his daughter working herself to death. He wanted her in pretty ball gowns with a smile on her face and some rich man marrying her. “Think that would make her happy?” “Yes.” “Mrs. Chesterfield had everything she wanted and she didn’t seem too happy.” Cooper looked down at Arnou. He hated it when the man made more sense than he did. “Married to Chesterfield would make anyone unhappy.” 292


“Seen unhappy rich and poor. Family’s what makes a body happy.” Arnou stretched out his legs. “I wouldn’t trade what I have for all the money in the world.” “That’s ’cause you don’t know any better.” “That’s ’cause I have a family that loves me.” Jacob came around the corner and crawled up into Cooper’s lap. “I miss her.” He missed her also, but there wasn’t a cure for it except time. “She belongs with her family.” “Miss Becka belongs with us.” Jacob wrapped his arms around Cooper’s neck. “There isn’t a Miss Becka. Her name’s Genevieve and she’s got more money than this place is worth. Why would she want to live here?” Jacob snuggled against Cooper’s shoulder. “’Cause she loves us.” “That’s not enough and she’s not coming back.” He hugged the child. She wasn’t coming back. Ever.

293


CHAPTER 25

Cooper cradled Jacob in his lap. Some people worked hard and some had others to work hard for them. He’d worked hard his entire life and would until the day he died. That was his lot in life. But Becka. No, Genevieve. She didn’t work hard. She was among those who could pay to have people work for them. She could enjoy life and not develop calluses on her hands. He heaved a sigh. He didn’t really want that kind of life. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he didn’t work. While he’d been in New Orleans, he’d mostly been bored, waiting for something to happen. He hadn’t slept as well because he wasn’t tired. At home, when he hit the bed, he was asleep. He liked knowing he’d grown crops and accomplished something. But Genevieve shouldn’t have to do that. She should be able to sit and look lovely while sipping tea with guests and going to balls. He’d made the right choice. She didn’t belong here and he didn’t belong 294


there. And love wouldn’t change that. “You’ve got to stop the sighing,” Arnou said. Cooper looked at his friend for a moment. He seemed so happy now he and Ilde were together. Arnou had been adamant about Ilde not working in the fields, but she’d been out there every day with them, and Arnou watched her and smiled a great deal. A twinge of jealousy shot through him. He had his children and that would have to be enough. “You still with us?” Arnou asked. “Yeah.” “Don’t appear that way.” Arnou leaned back on his elbows and gazed up into the night sky. Maura came around the corner of the house carrying a cake, followed by Ilde carrying plates. Sam, carrying Megan, brought up the rear. “Thought you might be of a mind for dessert.” Arnou stood and hugged his wife. “Always ready for your cake, Ma.” She set it on the small table on the porch and cut it. Jacob jumped down from his father’s lap and stood next to Maura, watching her. Sam perched on the edge of the porch and stood Megan beside him. Maura handed a plate to Cooper. “No, thanks.” He shook his head. He wasn’t much in the mood to eat. She handed the plate to Sam, then put her hands to her waist. “Cooper Monroe, you’ve got to stop this moping about. You’ve hardly eaten since the first meal when you arrived home. You’ll make yourself sick.” “He’s thinking on his decision about leaving Becka in New Orleans.” Arnou helped himself to a piece of cake. Cooper glared at him. “Thinking about what needs doing around here and how we’re going to get it all done.” 295


Arnou laughed. “Not likely.” Maura tapped her foot. “You’re like a love-sick calf.” Cooper looked into her face and saw the worry and concern shining from her eyes. “I’m fine. I have a lot on my mind.” “You’ve dealt with Stevens. The house has to wait until the fields are planted, so I don’t know what else there’s to be worrying over.” She continued to tap her foot. He smiled at her. “I still need to go to town and make sure the deed’s straightened out. I don’t want to leave that and find it’s in Fortier’s name.” “That has to wait until after the planting also.” Maura marched up the steps and served the rest of them cake. “You’re pining if I ever saw it.” Cooper shook his head. “Men don’t pine. I’m just tired.” Arnou shared his piece of cake with Ilde. “If you love her, go after her.” “She doesn’t belong here.” Maura sat in the rocking chair that creaked as she rocked back and forth. “Where does she belong?” “With her family.” Except she didn’t have much of a family. She wouldn’t stay with her father, but she had sufficient money to care for herself. “They sound worthless,” said Maura. “She should go to France to her mother.” Cooper looked up at the twinkling stars. They seemed so bright, promising happiness, promising a bright future, but they lied. “Don’t like France.” Sam spooned cake into Megan’s mouth. Cooper smiled for a second. Sam didn’t seem the nanny type, but somewhere along the line, he’d become Megan’s and she was delighted with the situation. “She doesn’t know if she likes France or not. She can’t remember.” 296


“She remember us.” Sam took a bite of cake. Megan patted his face and smiled at him. Cooper didn’t understand why Genevieve’s memory hadn’t come back once everything had been settled. He’d figured she hadn’t wanted to remember the terror and the danger, but that was all behind her. “Her memory will return once she’s with people she knows.” He hoped. He wondered what it would be like not to be able to remember his past life, but knew he’d rather know than guess, even if his life had been hard or at times, even frightening. Arnou set his plate on the step above him. “If you love her, go after her.” “She’s a lady, not a farmwife.” “You can’t be sure of that.” Arnou wrapped his arm around Ilde’s shoulder. “She loves you. I saw it in her eyes before you left.” He hugged Ilde. “We can all see that you love her. Go back to New Orleans and beg her to come home with you.” Cooper stared at Arnou for a moment. “She’ll be unhappy here.” The creaking of the rocker stopped. “You don’t know that. She seemed pretty happy to me while she was here.” Cooper stood and stepped down from the porch. “How could she be happy? She had to work hard.” Maura leaned forward. “She didn’t seem to be afraid of hard work.” “She didn’t know better.” Arnou took a step toward Cooper. “Did you ask her what she wanted?” “It’s not her decision.” She didn’t know what was good for her. “Pa, you should bring her back. We miss her, too.” Jacob leaned against Maura’s leg. “She’s not coming back. Do you hear me? She’s not. She doesn’t belong. She has her own life and we have to get on with ours.” He strode toward the river, toward the spot where he’d found her. 297


Why did she have to wash up on his shore, and steal his heart? He’d been just fine until she’d appeared. Would he ever get her out of his mind? Or his heart? He walked, hoping the black feeling enveloping him would seep into the darkness surrounding him so he could go on with his life. Without her. *

*

*

She walked up the front steps of her father’s house and rapped loudly on the door. Mrs. Kincaid opened it and stared. “What do you want?” She pushed open the door and flounced past Mrs. Kincaid. She had nothing to say to the woman. Following her toward the parlor, Mrs. Kincaid caught at her arm. “Your pa don’t want to see you, so you might as well leave.” She yanked her arm away from Mrs. Kincaid and drew herself up as tall as possible and glared at Mrs. Kincaid. “You will not touch me.” “Get out.” Mrs. Kincaid pointed toward the door. “He told me not to let you in. Called you ungrateful and—” She held up her hand. “I really do not care what he said or thinks. I have business to discuss with him and then I shall never darken his door again.” She wanted to throw the woman out. Teach her to mind her place. She suppressed a sigh. Was she nothing more than a spoiled rich lady as Cooper said? “If you wish to stay employed here, though why he would want such a worthless housekeeper I cannot fathom, you had best step back and leave me be.” “You don’t hire and fire around here.” Mrs. Kincaid puffed up and glared back. “Now that I have arranged funds for my father, I do.” She stomped into the parlor. She looked at her father passed out in his chair, his hair uncombed, his shirt rumpled and his tie hanging loose about his neck. His head 298


slumped to one side, spittle dripping from the side of his mouth. A snore echoed through the room at every breath he exhaled. Stopping at the window, she yanked back the drapes and flung open the windows to air the room of his stench. She walked back to the hall door. “Make some coffee,” she ordered Mrs. Kincaid and turned back, shutting the door behind her. She stood next to her father, loathe to touch him. She wondered when last he had bathed, or, for that matter, eaten. His cheeks looked sunken and his skin had a grayish tinge. Was he dying? She hoped not. She held no love for him, but she didn’t want to see him dead either. She just didn’t want to see him. “Papa.” She raised her voice over the snores. He snorted and shifted in the chair. Her shoulders sagged. This was going to be more difficult than she’d thought. While she’d sat alone in the hotel room, all of it had made sense. Sell the necklace. Give half the money to her father. After all, he was family and she couldn’t leave him destitute no matter what she felt for him or how he’d acted. Then she would be free. Free to leave New Orleans and everything it represented. Obviously her father was drinking more since she’d left the second time. “Papa,” she shouted. Frederick jumped and sat up rubbing his eyes. “What the hell?” He blinked at her. “Oh, it’s you. I told Mrs. Kincaid to send you away.” He slumped back in the chair. “Papa, sit up. We need to talk.” She perched on the edge of the settee, wanting nothing more than to be done with him and on her way. “If you’ve come to beg me to take you back, it’s too late.” His eyes closed. “Papa.” She raised her voice. “You don’t have to shout. I’m not deaf.” He pushed himself upright 299


and combed his hair back with his fingers. Mrs. Kincaid shoved open the door and brought in coffee, setting it on the table in front of her. The housekeeper stomped out of the room, humphing under her breath and slamming the door. Frederick rubbed his head. “Christ, can’t anyone be quiet?” “Papa, I have something to tell you.” “Go away. I don’t care to hear about your plight anymore. You care nothing for me. You walked out and left me destitute when you could’ve given me the necklace. It rightly belonged to me.” She groaned. Pouring coffee, she handed her father a cup. “Drink. I want you to remember what I say.” He took the cup, his hands shaking, sloshing coffee into the saucer. “If it’ll get you to leave me in peace.” “Ouí, Papa, it will.” She poured herself some coffee and took a sip, nearly spitting it across the room. “Why don’t you hire a cook? Mrs. Kincaid cannot even make coffee.” “With what would I pay the wages?” He set down his cup. She followed suit and smiled at him. “That is why I am here, Papa. I have sold the necklace—” “You what?” He came forward in the chair. “What right did you have to sell it? It belonged to me.” “No, Papa, it belonged to Mama, but a fancy piece of jewelry does not pay the bills.” She looked down at her hands in her lap, then back at him. “I want the money.” He raised his fist in the air. She looked at him. “Sit back and listen.” She would no longer suffer his abuses. She had taken charge of her own life and no one would ever again tell her what was best for her. He blinked then sank back into the chair. “I have taken half the money from the sale of the necklace and delivered it to your banker.” She pulled a piece of paper from her 300


reticule. She thought about handing it to him, but didn’t wish to walk within his reach, not knowing how he might act. She set the paper on the table. “This is a receipt.” “Half? All of the money belongs to me.” He leaned forward again, his hands fisting. She shrugged. “You can be as angry as you wish. If you try to strike me again, I shall go and remove the money from your bank. I still have the power to do so.” “You’re my daughter. You can’t control my money.” “I have arranged for some men to come and fix the house and the yard.” “I won’t pay them.” “Payment has been arranged.” She suppressed a sigh. If he could invest again and participate in business, would he crawl out of the bottle he was about to drown in? She hoped so, but she had no intention of staying to see. “Also, I have hired a maid and a cook to help Mrs. Kincaid. If you wish to keep her, do so. If not, replace her. The bank is instructed to pay them and to make sure the household bills are paid.” Frederick picked up his coffee cup and threw it across the room, pieces of china flying in all directions as it shattered. “I’m not a child to be put on an allowance.” “Are you not?” She chewed her bottom lip. Her anger and her fear had dissipated. She only felt pity for him and loathing. “You act like a child striking out when you do not get your way. Throwing things. Hitting people.” She looked him up and down. “You do not even keep yourself presentable. You are a disgrace. “And I, in good conscience, cannot leave you knowing you will not take care of yourself. Therefore, part of the money has been set aside to maintain this house and your lifestyle. In fact, your club fees have been paid, so you no longer have to drink alone. You can go and complain 301


about your family deserting you.” Frederick opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He leaned back for a moment before he crossed his hands over his chest. “I’m a businessman. If I have no money to conduct business, I am nothing.” She nodded her head. “Ouí, Papa. I have also arranged money for you to invest and money for the bankers to invest on your behalf. If you come to the place where you do not spend your days drunk, you may again conduct business. But if you choose to spend your days with a bottle, there will still be money to keep you.” She’d done her daughterly duty. Now she could leave. “Now, Papa, I am going to retrieve my things from my room and leave.” She stood and walked toward the door, wanting to be away from his company. “Where is the rest of the money?” “I am keeping it.” “You don’t need it. You have your allowance and your sister’s.” He rose from the chair and stumbled toward her. “That money’s mine.” “I nearly lost my life twice because of that necklace.” She refused to back away from him. If he tried to strike her, he would be surprised. She would defend herself. “I shall keep half of the money.” “You’re a selfish child.” “That is the price for my leaving you in peace.” She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “Where’re you going?” “Away, Papa, to where you will never find me and look at me with the hatred that shows in your eyes. Away where I do not have to be the daughter of a drunken sot.” “You’re just like your mother.” She raised her chin. “Then I wish I remembered my mother.” She started up the stairs and paused on the third one. “The banker will know where to find me if you are in need. I shall not leave you without 302


funds.” She looked into her father’s face for what she knew would be the last time. “But, he knows that if he reveals my whereabouts to you, I shall take my business elsewhere.” She picked up her skirts and ran up the stairs. The parlor door slammed behind her. *

*

*

Cooper rode his horse toward the riverboat landing. It had taken him three more days, but the constant nagging of the others had finally sent him on the way to see Genevieve. They were sure she would want to return with him. He wasn’t. What could he offer her? He cared for her. No. He loved her, but that wouldn’t be enough. He’d only taken a horse this time so Arnou and Sam could go into town and sell chickens to buy lumber to fix the house. After his trip, he’d take care of the deed. In the meantime, he’d taken what was left of their money to travel back to New Orleans to give Genevieve the option of returning home with him. The others believed so strongly that she would, that Maura and Arnou had given him the bit of money they still had. Then they’d all be broke and if something happened to the crop, they’d be in ruin,but no one else seemed to care. Everyone else thought it more important for him to go after Genevieve. They didn’t realize Genevieve was not the Becka they knew. He had seen her change while in New Orleans. She had become confident, no longer afraid and after Fortier had gone in the river, the nightmares had stopped. She had money and everything it could buy. Why did she need them? Why did she need him? He stopped at the livery and arranged care for his horse. Then he slung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered toward the dock. He leaned against the wall of a restaurant and watched as the riverboat in the distance finished docking. 303


Passengers disembarked with the help of the crew. Ladies dressed in fine traveling gowns stepped gingerly onto the dock, taking the arms of their escorts and strolling toward the village that surrounded the landing. Some would have dinner and embark again to travel on their way. Some would stay behind. While they ate, cargo would be unloaded and loaded. Without the boats, much of what he grew wouldn’t get to market. Quantities of his soybeans went north and west. There seemed to be more use for pig fodder in those directions, but some of his chickens went south. A young woman with black hair stepped onto the dock and opened a green parasol over her head. A young crewman followed, carrying her bag. She seemed to be alone. Something tugged at his heart. She reminded him of Becka with the dark hair, but it was neatly combed and she wore a green-and-white striped linen dress held out by several petticoats. Her hands were covered with white gloves. A bit of lace flashed beneath her skirts with each step she took. He sighed. That is how Genevieve would look just like the lady walking proudly up the dock toward dry land. He looked beyond her for an escort. Young women didn’t travel alone. The closer she came, the more familiar she looked. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked toward her. It couldn’t be Becka. She was in New Orleans and he was about to embark on a useless trip to see her. If she would even speak to him. As she stepped onto the dirt, she paused and glanced about her. She seemed to sigh, then walked toward the street where a small hotel and restaurant stood. The dust swirled under her feet and she ignored it as she walked. Cooper stepped out toward her and stopped. It was her. But it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t have come here. Would she? “Genevieve?” he called out. 304


She stopped and turned toward him. A smile spread across her face, then she ran toward him, dropping her parasol in the dirt. “Cooper.” She flung her arms around his neck. He held her back and looked into her face. “What are you doing here?” “I might ask you the same thing.” She laughed and hugged him again. He clutched her to him, afraid she would vanish if he didn’t hold on to her. “The others insisted I return to New Orleans to speak with you.” She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “About what?” “You’re coming back to live with us.” She really was in his arms, but it didn’t make sense. “Why are you here?” He released her and handed her back her parasol. “To talk some sense into you.” She hooked her arm through his. “Come and have dinner with me.” She pulled him toward the restaurant. He stopped her. “Sense about what?” “Us.” Her smile seemed a bit forced. Did he dare let his heart block out what his head knew? That she would be miserable after a short time on the farm. Could he hope for a brief bit of happiness, or would it turn sour and would that hurt be even worse? But he wanted her. “The others want me. Don’t you?” Her brows pulled together. “More than you’ll ever know.” “I would very much like to find out.” “But life here is so very hard.” “It was not very pleasant in New Orleans. Those who knew me, who I did not know, felt pity for me because of Jacque and my sister and my father. I felt a stranger and did not wish to be in their company.” “But here there isn’t much company, or even many women with 305


whom to visit. You’ll be isolated and the work is never ending.” “I did not mind the work when I was here before. Not that I was very good at it, but over time, that will improve. I can learn.” “Do you want to?” How could she trade the luxury she had for what he had? “Ouí.” She looked into his eyes. “However, I shall not stay because of the others.” “Why would you trade what you have for this?” He shrugged. She had so much. He so little. She laughed. “You really do not know.” “I don’t understand. You have left so much behind.” She shook her head. “I left nothing behind. I shall never return to New Orleans or to the family I have there. That family offers only sorrow and unhappiness. How could anyone want to stay? How could I survive such?” “You had a fancy house and all the things money could buy.” “I was missing the one thing you have so much of.” “What is that?” “Love. You have a family filled with love.” “Yes.” He nodded his head. He knew himself to be lucky because of that love. “It’s a blessing. One I wouldn’t want to live without.” “But you would ask me to live without such a blessing.” He studied her face for several moments. He’d thought only of the money, not of what else he had. “Would you condemn me to live in a loveless world?” “No.” He’d lived that way once and wouldn’t wish it for anyone. “Never.” “Then why do you send me away?” He couldn’t help that he didn’t want her to suffer. “I love you too much to see you wither and die working yourself to death on a farm.” She smiled. “With love, nothing withers and dies.” 306


He looked at her for a moment, then pulled her into his arms. “Will love be enough?” “If you love me half as much as I love you.” She rested her head against his shoulder. He leaned her back and looked into her eyes. “I love you more than life itself.” “Then that will be enough.” He kissed her.

307

JANET QUINN Janet Quinn has always been a storyteller. She has put her love of stories into her writing. While honing her craft, she earned a B.A. and an M.A. in journalism. Then she took up teaching high school English and writing. She has also taught novel writing classes at the Learning Tree University in California. Her first novel, Yesteryear’s Love, was published by Berkley/Jove under their Time Passages imprint. It placed in the finals of the Romance Writers of America/Orange County Chapter’s Orange Award Contest for published writers for best historical. Wild Honey, published in 2004, placed in the finals of the Romance Writers of America/Orange County Chapter Orange Rose Contest for unpublished authors. A Moment In Time, also published in 2004, is her second time-travel romance and takes the reader back to 1692 and a pirate boat. Coming next year is The Lucky Lady, a western featuring a gambler and a seamstress with a secret. The River’s Treasure placed in the finals for best historical in the PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest. Additionally, Amber Quill Press has contracted Arrow Of The Heart, a time-travel romance, also scheduled for release in 2005. When she isn’t writing historical or time-travel novels, Janet works as the Director of Education for a California Sylvan where she helps to

teach the next generation to read. She lives in Southern California with two of her three sons, who encourage her writing, and her three cats.

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC THE GOLD STANDARD IN P UBLISHING

QUALITY BOOKS IN BOTH PRINT AND ELECTRONIC FORMATS ACTION /ADVENTURE

SUSPENSE/THRILLER

SCIENCE FICTION

PARANORMAL

ROMANCE

MYSTERY

EROTICA

HORROR

WESTERN

FANTASY

MAINSTREAM

HISTORICAL

YOUNG ADULT

NON-FICTION

BUY DIRECT AND S AVE http://www.amberquill.com

The River's Treasure

Rivers

Blood-Red Rivers aka The Crimson Rivers

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

The Rivers of Zadaa

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

The Treasure

the Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

The River's Treasure

Rivers

Blood-Red Rivers aka The Crimson Rivers

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

The Rivers of Zadaa

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

The Treasure

the Treasure

The Treasure

The Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Treasure

Recommend Documents