Рита Браун - Tall Tail

Barker shook his head. “Nothing you can do, Moses. Only the women can help her and there’s but so much they can do.”

Moses clenched his teeth. “I can kill the son of a bitch.”

Barker walked over, put a huge hand on his shoulder. “Don’t talk like that, Moses. That’s crazy talk.”

—

The conversation over dessert centered on iron supplies for the foundry.

Francisco sipped a light tea to cleanse his palate after the good wine, plus he enjoyed light teas. “Just about a mile south of Scottsville there’s a good landing.”

“River’s a boon,” Ewing mentioned.

The Upper James River flowed by Scottsville, the county seat. From there, one could load about anything to carry down to Richmond and beyond.

“You probably know the James better than we do.” Francisco nodded to John.

“The Marquis made us study maps, but Tarleton worked his will before the war shifted to the South, wish we could have gotten him. It’s a formidable river.” John quietly spoke, not one to revisit his wartime service.

“We finally got them in the end.” Francisco looked up as Ailee swept by.

Maureen observed his lingering look, and a tight smile crossed her lips.

Quick to surmise the situation, Rachel engaged her hostess. “Mrs. Selisse, you know your gowns are the envy of the state. Won’t you divulge your seamstress’s name?”

Tilting her head, Maureen cooed, “Madame Varnese, Paris. Duchesses, countesses, princesses flock to her. She can enhance any woman, even those not blessed by Nature.”

“Not a problem for you, Mrs. Selisse.” Rachel beamed at her hostess, who waved her hand as though dismissing the compliment.

Catherine then added, “But it’s not just your seamstress. Where do you procure such unique fabrics?”

“Ah, I have an agent in Amsterdam, and I tell you, Italy is much overlooked. Milan alone produces such beautiful fabrics, light as air. But then one must be patient, the Italians are not celebrated for punctuality.” On and on she rattled, occasionally catching a glimpse of Ailee. A flash of anger would momentarily appear then be gone. The two visiting sisters kept Maureen talking.

Finally, an hour after sunset, Ewing effusely praised host and hostess. Time to go.

Having been alerted, Jeddie brought out the coach-in-four first, then the phaeton. Barker slipped on his livery, impressive as the driver.

Jeddie whispered to Ewing, “Sir, the two boys there wiped down the coach.” He repeated this to Charles.

Both men tipped the boys, then Ewing slipped two dollars in large coins to Moses. Charles followed with a silver dollar, quite generous.

The Selisses lived three miles south and east from Ewing’s estate. The same creek bordered part of their lands. If you walked along the creek you’d reach Ewing’s or Francisco’s estates. For a leisurely walk, the path proved pleasant.

Next to John, Catherine breathed in the night air. “Do you think it’s possible to die of boredom?”

“Not until tonight,” he replied, and they both laughed.

—

Behind them, Charles West wore his red-gold hair neatly tied at his nape. The thought of a wig on a night like this made him sweat, but wigs, while always fashionable, were being ignored more and more.

“Such a beautiful night. The stars like portals to heaven, sparkling, inviting us to smile.” Charles put the reins in his left hand while placing his arm around his wife’s tiny waist.

“Do you think Francisco will offer you a commission? He’ll have to build some kind of storage house down on the James?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t want to work for him. Besides, Karl and a small group of Lutherans have been talking to me about designing a church west of us, near Wayland’s Crossing, at the foot of the mountains right on Three Notch’d Road. I can say I’m engaged in a project.”

“Think they’ll do it?”

“I do. Few churches west of us, and the ones east are too far to travel unless people want to leave at four in the morning.” He changed the subject. “You were so clever.”

“Me?”

“You see things I don’t, or you see them before I do, and you and Catherine lured Maureen into a fulsome discussion of her wardrobe.”

She leaned on him. “Vain.”

He teased her. “Aren’t all women vain?”

“Men are worse. Think of the pompous fools you knew in uniform.”

“Put a little braid on a man, epaulettes on his shoulders, a few shiny buttons, and you’re right. Maybe men are as bad as women, but you certainly did keep Maureen busy and puffed up.”

“Like a broody hen.” Rachel laughed, then added, “Not a happy henhouse.”

“Not at all.”

It was soon to become desperately unhappy.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

“Had she ever mentioned financial problems or domestic troubles? Disagreements with anyone?” Cooper was gently asking questions about Barbara Leader to Penny Holloway and her daughter, Millicent Grimstead, Susan’s mother.

“Not a thing,” Penny replied. “Barbara never really complained about anything.”

The three women sat in the air-conditioned part of the summer porch.

Hearing a noise from the main part of the house, Millicent rose, briefly leaving the room before returning. “Wendell Holmes, trying to get into the garbage.”

Wendell Holmes was the Holloway’s springer spaniel.

“Good. I was afraid Sam had awakened.” Penny lowered her voice. “Deputy, we haven’t told Sam anything about Barbara’s accident. It will greatly unnerve the governor, he liked her so.”

“He hasn’t read about the accident or seen a TV report?”

“We’ve monitored the news,” Millicent replied. “Mostly he reads The Washington Post, The New York Times, and The Wall Street Journal . He watches CNN and sometimes the other channels, but he doesn’t have much time for TV. He says if you want to find out about something, you read the newspapers.”

“We’ll never run out of news.” Cooper smiled.

“Deputy, you asked us about complaints, domestic problems. Why?” Penny missed nothing.

“My experience is if a person is upset, they drive badly. Perhaps Barbara was distressed about something. It’s curious. She was dead when Harry Haristeen opened the door. It was quick and I hope painless.” Cooper tried to be soothing.

“We thought we’d tell Daddy next week,” said Millicent. “We told him she’d taken a week off, and since he can be a little forgetful, he was okay. We fibbed and said she’d informed him.” She leaned back in the blue-and-white striped chair.

Penny nodded. “Sam becomes attached to people,” she said, her voice lovely. “Barbara would jolly him along. She’d ring the ship’s bell in his library when it was time to take a pill and she enlivened it with a bit of bourbon. She’d bring him a real drink at five. Funny thing, the young woman working with him on his autobiography is sweet and smart. He likes going back with her in time, but I think he talked to Barbara more. He trusted her, but then she made him feel better. If he was becoming tired, she’d find a way to suggest a nap.”

“This is such a loss,” Millicent confided.

“Yes, I can understand that,” Cooper said sympathetically.

“Leukemia is a cruel disease.” Penny folded her hands together. “He’s fought it so long. He doesn’t get angry or fuss. He doesn’t feel sorry for himself.”