Read Daughters of the Heart Online

Authors: Caryl McAdoo

Daughters of the Heart (8 page)

It made too loud a scraping noise, and for a moment her heart stopped. She held her breath, but heard nothing more.

Then the booming in her chest doubled. She swallowed.

No, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Right? She just needed a private word with Elijah. She had to let him know waiting for her would be worth it. And if Mama May could only get through to her father, it wouldn’t be the whole ten months.

He had to know.

Climbing up onto the chair, she suddenly remembered how dark it would be up there, so she stepped back down and retrieved a candle and matches.

Then, with one foot on the chair’s bottom and the other on the back, she stretched tall, feeling around the opening’s edge. Her fingers touched the rope ladder, grasped it, then pulled it down.

After a good hard test yank, she put her whole weight on it and swung. Good. Just like the last time. Nothing to it. She’d be in Elijah’s room…her breath caught.

The booming doubled, beating hard against her chest.

Making herself breathe, she forced deep, calming breaths. She had to stop being silly.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Talking was no sin, and this was her only chance.

 

 

The overhead patter turned Elijah away from his drawing.

Squirrels? Have to be awful big ones.

Maybe an opossum. He went back to his sketch, then a soft thud echoed. He looked toward the sound and his water closet door opened. He blinked, but Cecelia didn’t vanish. “What…?”

She put a finger to her lips and beckoned him with the other hand.

He hurried to her then whispered, “What are you doing here?”

She leaned in too close. Her gorgeous mouth mere inches from his cheek. “I needed to talk with you in private. I have to.”

He nodded. He wanted the same thing. But forbidden fruit could get him in all sorts of trouble, just like it had Adam. “Your daddy will skin us both if anyone catches you in here. It’s such a risk. What’s so important?”

She put her hand on his chest. Could she feel how hard his heart was beating? It practically thundered as though it wanted to jump right out of his chest and be caressed. She could handle that, he was certain, and be gentle about it, too.

What was she doing in his room? What was she thinking, taking such a chance?

“He won’t. He’s gone, remember? And besides, Mama is working on him. I mean about me not being eighteen yet. But even if he refuses to give in…I had to come and get your promise.”

“For what?”

Even in the pale lamp light, her smile radiated. “That you’ll wait for me.”

Wait for her? She had to get out of there.

“CeCe, you’ve got to go. If you’re caught….” Her lips turned down, then puckered, but as much as he wanted to smother them with kisses, he dared not. She inched closer, but still, his resolve held.

Then she pressed those soft, full lips against his, and he closed his eyes.

Time stopped, as did his world.

Only his heart kept at its crazy pace, beating for the band.

She pushed away. “I promise you, I’m worth waiting for, Mister Eversole.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. With all his will power—or was it God’s? In his weakness God was made strong. Isn’t that what the Good Book said?—he backed away. For a few frantic beats of his heart, she stood there.

“Promise me, please. Tell me you’ll wait for me.”

“I, uh…” He nodded again.

The biggest happiest grin stretched across her face. “I love you.” Then she turned and disappeared into his water closet and the door closed.

His feet, in cahoots with his lips, begged to follow. He took a step toward the door, but the bit of sanity he still possessed managed to stop him. He wanted a wife, a beautiful intelligent woman just like Cecelia Buckmeyer, to share his life, not a sinful night of passion.

Into the wee hours, he wrestled himself. Did Cecelia really love him? He’d only just met her, and she’d barely spent a few hours in his company. How could she love him? How could she know?

And was he really in love with Mary Rachel and only trying to replace her with one of her sisters?

What of Gwendolyn? She’d seemed more interested in him of late. And his little informant had said she wouldn’t tell him no if he asked. But then, none of the girls could marry without their father’s blessings.

Could they? Would they?

And there was Clay. She might love him, but Henry obviously didn’t approve of the man.

Would he approve of Elijah? He thought he would, at least that he had a good chance of winning his approval. He stared out the window. The soft glow of the moon lit the landscape casting deep shadows.

What was he thinking? He’d been invited to build an engine for Buckmeyer, not take one of his daughters back to California.

Mary Rachel would like that. His heart swelled at the thought of her name. 

Beside his bed, he knelt and clasped his hands. He was a fool, a confused imbecile. He waited until the beating in his chest subsided. Laying his forehead on the bed, he clasped his hands behind his neck. What was he to do?

Oh, Lord, guide my path. Show me who You want me to have. Your perfect choice. For it is You Who knows best the perfect one.

 

 

Chapter Seven

             

 

The wordless exchange between her uncle
and her stepmother set Cecelia on edge, put a sour taste in her mouth that the honey-laced coffee couldn’t cut.

Then, once the men were off to work, even before she could help Miss Jewel get their dinner to cooking, Mama May asked her so sweetly and nice if she could have a word with her in Daddy’s library.

Oh, Lord, she was found out!

She hadn’t meant to make so much noise last night.

“Of course, Mama. Now?” Did she say that just right? Would the perceptive woman hear guilt in her tone? But then, she hadn’t done anything wrong. One little kiss. That’s all it was. And she was going to marry the man.

“Yes, please. I’d like the word before you father returns home.”

With a nod, Cecelia gathered herself and smiled.

Oh, Lord, was she going to tell Daddy? Please don’t let her tell him, Lord.

Willing her lips into a scant smile, she met her eyes, but looked quickly away as tears suddenly threatened to fill and overflow.

“Yes, ma’am.” She couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t help! They’d only give her away. She opened her eyes wide, trying to dissipate them.

Mama May held the door until Cecelia stepped inside, gestured her toward the wingback, then took her father’s seat. “Sweetheart, your Uncle Chester tells me he heard someone in the attic last night. Someone about your size, he figures.”

A lie streaked across her tongue, but she refused to give it voice. No reason to dig her hole any deeper. Instead, she forced her face blank and found a spot on the wall to stare at. “He did?”

“Yes, indeed, he did.” Mama May looked away and sighed. “Then…he heard a thud when the young lady lowered herself into Mister Eversole’s room.”

Cecelia’s breath caught in her throat. Had the gasp been out loud? She was dead. Except her life hadn’t flashed before her eyes. More tears welled, too many to keep from falling.

A lump formed in her throat, holding back her voice. Helpless against it, all her words gathered up and choked her. She finally managed to swallow, and they came pouring out on top each other.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry, but I didn’t do anything wrong there. I just needed to talk. In private. Tell Elijah something.” The flood gates opened, and she sobbed into her hands.

 

May reached over the desk and offered a handkerchief trimmed in cotton lace from her pocket. “Here.”

The girl took it, and for a bit, she let her cry. Then once she regained some control, leaned forward. “CeCe, would Elijah tell your father the same story?”

The poor thing looked up with such a pitiful expression and nodded. “But please! Please don’t tell Daddy. You just can’t, Mama! He’ll….” She dropped her chin to her chest and covered her face with both hands.

Could May keep it from Henry?

Even if she wanted to for her daughter’s sake, she just couldn’t see how she could possibly withhold the incident. Hopefully though, she would be able to keep him from going berserk. Had the late night been innocent as she claimed, or did the darling’s silence point to something more sinister?

“Cecelia?”

She looked up again, eyes red and puffy, and dabbed the hanky under them. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Was that my answer or a question?”

“Ma’am?”

“Would Elijah tell your father the same story?”

Her head hung again. “No, ma’am, probably not.” She looked up, remorse written all over her face. “If telling the truth, he would add that I kissed him. But he didn’t kiss me back! It was a short kiss. You know. Just a short, sweet kiss.”

“Why, baby? Why would you take such a chance?”

“Oh, Mama May, I had to tell him to wait for me. That you were working on Daddy. He’d been making eyes at Gwen all through supper, and…and…not hardly paying me any attention. But I knew that first morning he came that I loved him. It was love at first sight. I thought for both of us. I could tell, but Daddy’s rule. And Clay coming back!”

“I’d think Clay’s return would be a good thing.”

“Didn’t you see? It was like Elijah had to best him or something. I’m telling you he hardly looked at me the whole meal! Oh, Mama, what am I going to do? I can’t live without him.”

“Did he say he’d wait for you?”

Her shoulders barely lifted, and her eyes went to the floor. “Not really. Not as I’d hoped, but he nodded like he would. I took it as a yes.”

“Sweetie, if we can’t get your father to change his mind, then you’re talking ten months before he can even begin to court you, and then how long after that before your father would agree to a wedding?”

“But no matter how long…I can wait as long as I know he’ll be mine. Can’t he?”

“Well, I’m not sure. You’ve only just met him, and you’re talking forever. His life is in California. Have you thought about that? Are you ready to move there?”

“But he could stay here. And…how long after you met Daddy did you know? I mean that he was the one.”

May smiled. Henry’s baby girl hadn’t fallen too far from her father’s tree. “From the start, I wanted to get to know him better, but.…” She sat back. “Most times, a wife goes where her husband does.”

“But not always, and of course, I want to know everything about Elijah! But I only get to see him a few minutes each day. You and Daddy spent a lot of time together alone before you got married.”

“True, but your father is a man of honor.”

“Didn’t last night prove Elijah is as well? I mean when I kissed him, he could have kissed me back, or worse, but he didn’t. Doesn’t that prove something…at least to you?”

“So do you want to be the one to tell your father all of this?”

She settled back in the chair and shook her head. “Oh, no. He can’t know any of it.”

“What would you have done if Mister Eversole had kissed you back?”

“I don’t know. I asked myself the same question last night.” The girl turned and stared out the window. The curtains waved in the breeze. The distant voices of playing children rode on it.

“Cecelia?”

She looked back. “I wanted him to, and it did hurt my heart that he didn’t. Still…I am certain. I would have stopped it, left. I would have made him let me go.”

“Through all the centuries, sweetheart, there are countless young ladies who’ve thought the same thing, then didn’t. You’ve got to promise me you’ll never put yourself in that position again.”

“Yes, ma’am, I promise.” The girl’s eyes brightened, then clouded just as quick. She scooted to the edge of her seat. “And you won’t tell Daddy?”

“I didn’t say that. But thank you for your promise.”

“Oh please. He doesn’t need to know, does he?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m leaning toward keeping this between us.”

CeCe exhaled. “That would be boss, even better than that, it would be wonderful, Mama.”

For the fourth time, the beautiful young lady had dropped the May and just called her Mama.

Was it only an enticement? Could Cecelia possibly know how very much she wanted her and Gwendolyn to call her just Mama? Bonnie and Houston had, even before she married their father, but they were really too young to remember Sue.

A knock on the door pulled her attention from the seventeen-year-old. “Yes? Come in.”

Gwen opened the door holding Crocket. “He wants his mama.”

The boy almost flopped out of her arms, leaning and stretching his little hands toward her. “Mama.”

She stood and took the baby then smiled at Cecelia. “Best go see if Miss Jewel needs any help. It’ll soon be time to take the men their dinner.”

Both girls turned and headed toward the door.

“Oh, and would you please ask Bonnie to come see me in half an hour or so?”

 

 

Bonnie heard them before they stormed into the parlor, but ignored them completely. She handed Lacey Rose the fancy China tea cup on a saucer. “Here you are, Miss Lacey. Would you care for a crumpet?”

The eight-year-old glanced at the door, grinned then took the offering. “Please. How kind of you to offer. I would love a crumpet with strawberry jam, please, if you have it. And thank you, Miss Buckmeyer.”

“Mama May wants you, Bonnie.”

She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll go when we’re through with our tea party.”

“She said to have you come in about thirty minutes and that will be in five more, so don’t doddle.” She hated Gwen’s tone, as though she was her mother or something. God had sent Mama to replace her real one who she barely remembered.

And Gwendolyn was only her third oldest sister.

She faced the interlopers. She’d love it if those two were distant cousins, and she the oldest. Lacey Rose could be her baby sister instead of just her friend. “Mama letting you take dinner to the sawmill?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t she?”

Rising out of the too-small chair, the one Uncle Wallace had made his namesake for her sixth birthday, she straightened her church skirt. Shame he hadn’t built it a bit bigger. Lacey Rose could still get up and down pretty easy, but it’d become a chore for her.

“So what’s my offer to go today?”

“I want to go, too.” Lacey jumped up. “Please, please.”

Oh, no! They couldn’t let her go! Then they might not need Bonnie!

“I don’t know if there’d be enough room, sweetie. The surrey would already be crowded.” Cecelia turned toward Bonnie. “And you…we can chaperone ourselves! There’s two of us, and we can watch each other. No one will have to carry the basket in their lap that way, too. So don’t you worry your thieving head any.”

She squinted and glared, first at CeCe then bore a hole into Gwen. “I don’t think Daddy will like that at all, not one little bit. Mama knows that, too, so she won’t be standing for it. You best be about making me happy. Now I ask again, what’s the offer?”

“Daddy’s not here though, is he?”

Sometimes she wished she didn’t have any big sisters. She wanted to be the oldest.

“Well, he will be any minute!” She huffed and put her fists on her waist. “Told Mama midday, and unless the big clock is off, it struck the half hour a while back. Be eleven before you know it.”

“So? We’ll be long gone before noon.”

She winked at Lacey Rose, who’d sat back down, quite dejected. Brushing past CeCe with her step-aside-I’ve-got-business look, Bonnie noted red in her eyes as though she’d been crying.

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