"Why's that?"
"Because I won't be here."
"Oh? Where are you going?"
Sophronia faltered. Kit had asked the question so innocently. "Let's go into the sittin' room for a few minutes so we can talk."
Kit looked at her curiously, then followed her down the hallway. Once inside, she sat on the settee. "Is something wrong?"
Sophronia remained standing. "I—I'm going away to Charleston."
"You should have told me earlier. I have some shopping to do, too. I could have gone with you."
"No, it's not a shopping trip." Sophronia clasped her hands in front of her butternut wool skirt. "I—I'm goin' for good. I won't be coming back to Risen Glory."
Kit stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Not coming back? Of course you're coming back. You live here."
"James Spence bought me a house."
Kit's forehead knitted. "Why would he do that? Are you going to be his housekeeper? Sophronia, how could you even think of leaving here?"
Sophronia shook her head. "I'm not goin' to be his housekeeper I'm goin' to be his mistress."
Kit gripped the arm of the settee. "I don't believe you. You'd never do anything so horrible."
Sophronia's chin shot up. "Don't you dare judge me!"
"But this is wrong! What you're talking about is wicked, plain and simple. How could you even consider such a thing?"
"I'm doin' what I have to," Sophronia said stubbornly.
"You don't have to do this!"
"That's easy for you to say. But did you ever think I might want some of the same things you want—a house, pretty clothes, being able to wake up in the morning knowing nobody can hurt me?"
"But nobody can hurt you here. The war's been over for three years. Nobody's bothered you."
"That's just because everybody assumed I was sharing your husband's bed." At Kit's sharp look, she added, "I wasn't. Still, nobody except Magnus knew that." The sculptured lines of her face set into bitter planes. "Now that you're married, everything's different. It's just a matter of time before somebody decides I'm free for the picking. That's the way it is for any black woman doesn't have a white man lookin' out for her. I can't go through the rest of my life like that."
"But what about Magnus?" Kit argued. "He's a good man. Anybody with eyes can see that he loves you. And no matter how much you pretend otherwise, I know you have tender feelings for him. How can you do this to him?"
Sophronia's mouth formed a straight, stubborn line. "I have to look out for myself."
Kit jumped up from the settee. "I don't see what's so wonderful about having a white man watching out for you. When you were a slave, my father was supposed to be watching out for you, and look what happened. Maybe Mr. Spence won't be able to protect you any more than my father could. Maybe he'll look the other way the same as my father. Did you ever think about that, Sophronia? Did you?"
"Your father didn't
try
to protect me!" Sophronia cried. "He didn't try, do you understand what I'm telling you? It wasn't just a matter of not seeing what was happenin'.
He
was the one who was giving me away for the night to his friends."
Kit felt a stabbing deep in the walls of her stomach.
Now that the truth was out, Sophronia couldn't stop herself. "Sometimes he'd let them throw dice for me. Sometimes they'd race their horses. I was the prize in the games they played."
Kit ran to Sophronia and took her in her arms. "I'm sorry. Oh, I'm so very, very sorry."
Sophronia's back was rigid under her hands. Kit stroked her, blinked away tears, muttered apologies that weren't hers to make, and tried to find the argument that would convince Sophronia not to leave the only home she'd ever known. "Don't let what happened ruin the rest of your life. As awful as it was, it happened a long time ago. You're young. Lots of slave women—"
"Don't you tell me about slave women!" Sophronia jerked away, her expression ferocious. "Don't you dare tell me about slave women! You don't know nothin' about it!" She took a deep gulp of air, as if she were strangling. "He was
my
father, too!"
Kit froze. Slowly, she shook her head. "No. It's not true. You're lying to me. Even he wouldn't give away his own daughter. Damn you! Damn you for lying to me!"
Sophronia didn't flinch. "I'm his daughter, no different from you. He took my mama when she was only your mama's nose. Kept her there until he found out she was carryin' a baby, then he tossed her back to the slave cabins like a piece of trash. At first, when his friends came sniffin' after me, I thought maybe he might have forgotten I was his. But he hadn't forgotten. He just didn't attach any significance to it. Blood had no meaning because I wasn't human. I was property. Just another nigger gal."
Kit's face was chalk-white. She couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
Now that her secret was no longer locked inside her, Sophronia was finally calm. "I'm glad my mama died before it all started. She was a strong woman, but seeing what was happening to me would have broke her." Sophronia reached out and touched Kit's immobile cheek. "We're sisters, Kit," she said softly. "Didn't you ever feel it? Didn't you ever feel that tie between us, binding us so tight nothing could ever pull us apart? Right from the start, it was the two of us. Your mama died after you were born, and my mama was supposed to take care of you, but she didn't like to touch you because of what had happened. So I took care of you, right from the beginning. A child raising a child. I can remember holding you in my lap when I couldn't have been more than four or five myself. I used to set you next to me in the kitchen when I was working and play doll babies with you in the evening. And then Mama died, and you were all I had. That's why I never left Risen Glory, not even when you went away to New York City. I had to make sure you'd be all right. But when you came back, it was like you were a different person, part of a world I couldn't belong to. I've been jealous, and I've been scared, too. You've got to forgive me for what I'm goin' to do, Kit, but you have a place in the world, and now it's time for me to find mine." She gave Kit a swift hug and fled.
Not long after, Cain found Kit there. She was still standing in the center of the room. Her muscles were rigid, her hands knotted into fists.
"Where the hell is every—Kit? What's wrong?"
In an instant he was beside her. She felt as if she'd been pulled from a trance. She sagged against him, choking on a sob. He took her in his arms and led her to the settee. "Tell me what happened."
His arms felt so good around her. He'd never held her like this—protectively, with no trace of passion. She began to cry. "Sophronia's leaving. She's going away to Charleston to be… to be James Spence's mistress."
Cain swore softly. "Does Magnus know about this?"
"
I
—I don't think so." She tried to catch her breath. "She just told me… Sophronia's my sister."
"Your sister?"
"Garrett Weston's daughter, just like me."
He stroked her chin with his thumb. "You've lived in the South all your life. Sophronia's skin is light."
"You don't understand." She clenched her jaw and spat out the words through her tears. "My father used to give her away to his friends for the night. He knew she was his daughter, his own flesh and blood, but he gave her away just the same."
"Oh, God…" Cain's face grew ashen. He pulled her tighter and rested his cheek against the top of her head as she cried. Gradually she filled in the details of the story for him. When she was done, Cain spoke viciously. "I hope he's burning in hell."
Now that she'd poured out the story, Kit realized what she had to do. She leaped up from the settee. "I have to stop her. I can't let her go through with this."
"Sophronia's a free woman," he reminded her gently "If she wants to go off with Spence, there's nothing you can do about it."
"She's my sister! I love her, and I won't let her do this!"
Before Cain could stop her, she raced from the room.
Cain sighed as he uncoiled himself from the settee. Kit was hurting badly, and as he knew only too well, that could lead to trouble.
Outside, Kit hid in the trees near the front. Her teeth chattered as she huddled in the damp, wintry shadows waiting for Cain to come out. He soon appeared, as she'd known he would. She watched him descend the steps and look toward the drive. When he didn't see her, he cursed, turned on his heel, and headed for the stable.
As soon as he was out of sight, she ran back into the house and made her way to the gun rack in the library. She didn't expect too much trouble from James Spence, but since she had no intention of letting Sophronia go off with him, she needed the gun to add weight to her arguments.
Several miles away, James Spence's crimson-and-black buggy swept past the buggy Magnus was driving. Spence was in an all-fired hurry to get wherever he was going, Magnus thought as he observed the vehicle disappear around the bend. Since there wasn't much along this road except Risen Glory and the cotton mill, Spence must have business at the mill.
It was a logical conclusion, but somehow it didn't satisfy him. He gave the horses a sharp slap with the reins. As he hurried toward Risen Glory, he considered what he knew about Spence.
Local gossip reported that he'd managed an Illinois gravel quarry, bought himself out of the draft for three hundred dollars, and headed South after the war with a carpetbag stuffed full of greenbacks. Now he had a prosperous phosphate mine and a hankering for Sophronia.
Spence's buggy had already stopped at the bottom of the drive when Magnus got there. The businessman was dressed in a black frock coat and bowler, with a walking stick in his gloved hand. Magnus barely spared him a glance. All his attention was fixed on Sophronia.
She stood at the side of the road with her blue woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a satchel at her feet.
"Sophronia!" He pulled up the buggy and jumped out.
Her head shot up, and for an instant he thought he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes, but then they clouded over, and she clutched the shawl tighter. "You leave me alone, Magnus Owen. This doesn't have anything to do with you."
Spence stepped around from the side of the carriage and looked at Magnus. "Something the matter, boy?"
Magnus tucked a thumb into his belt and glared at him. "The lady's changed her mind."
Spence's eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his bowler. "If you're talking to me, boy, I suggest you call me 'sir.' "
As Sophronia watched the confrontation, prickles of dread crept along her spine. Magnus turned to her, but instead of the gentle, soft-spoken man she knew, she saw a tight-lipped, hard-eyed stranger. "Get back to the house."
Spence stepped forward. "Now see here. I don't know who you think you are, but—"
"Go away, Magnus." Sophronia could hear her voice tremble. "I've made up my mind, and you can't stop me."
"I can stop you, all right," he said stonily. "And that's exactly what I'm goin' to do."
Spence sauntered over to Magnus, his walking stick with its golden knob firmly in hand. "I think it might be better for everybody if you went back to wherever you came from. Now come along, Sophronia."
But as he reached for her, she was abruptly snatched away. "You're not touching her," Magnus snarled, shoving her firmly behind him. Then he clenched his fists and stepped forward.
Black man against white. All Sophronia's nightmares had come true. Fear shot through her. "No!" She clutched Magnus's shirt. "Don't hit him! You hit a white man, you'll be hanging from a rope before morning."
"Get out of my way, Sophronia."
"The white man's got all the power, Magnus. You leave this be!"
He set her aside, but the gesture of protecting her cost him. Behind his back, Spence lifted his walking stick and, as Magnus turned, slammed it into his chest.
"Stay out of things that don't concern you, boy," Spence growled.
In one swift movement, Magnus snatched the cane and broke it across his knee.
Sophronia gave an outcry.
Magnus tossed the cane aside and landed a hard blow to Spence's jaw that sent the mine owner sprawling onto the road.
Kit had reached the line of trees just in lime to see what was happening. She rushed out, raised her rifle, and leveled the barrel. "Get out of here, Mr. Spence. Doesn't seem you're wanted."
Sophronia had never been more grateful to see anyone, but Magnus's face grew rigid. Spence slowly rose, glaring at Kit. Just then a deep, drawling voice intruded.
"Looks like things are getting a little out of hand here."
Four sets of eyes turned as Cain climbed down off Vandal. He walked toward Kit with the loose, easy swagger that was so much a part of him and extended his hand. "Give me the rifle, Kit." He spoke so calmly he might have been asking her to pass bread across the dinner table.
Giving him the rifle was exactly what Kit wanted to do. As she'd discovered once before, she had no stomach for holding a gun on anyone. Cain would see to it that Magnus came to no harm, and she gave him the rifle.
To her astonishment, he didn't turn it on Spence. Instead, he took Kit's arm and pulled her, none too gently, toward Vandal. "Accept my apologies, Mr. Spence. My wife has an excitable temperament." He shoved the rifle into the scabbard that hung from his saddle.
She saw Spence's eyes grow shrewd. The cotton mill made Cain an important man in the community, and she could see his mind working as he decided it was to his advantage to have Cain as a friend. "Don't mention it, Mr. Cain." He reached down to dust off his trousers. "I'm sure none of us can predict the ways of our little womenfolk."
"Truer words have never been spoken," Cain replied, oblivious to Kit's glare.
Spence picked up his black bowler and jerked his head toward Magnus. "Do you value this boy of yours, Major?"
"Why do you ask?"
He gave Cain a man-to-man smile. "If you was to tell me you valued him, I'd assume you wouldn't be too happy to see him dangling from the end of a rope. And seeing as how we're both businessmen. I'd be more than willing to forget what just happened here."