Рита Браун - Tall Tail

“Daddy’s concern is leaving Mother,” said Millicent. “He wants to make sure she’s all right. He’s organized me, really, to run this big place when he’s gone.”

“You two made a wonderful life together,” Cooper complimented Penny.

She brightened. “We did. We met so many exciting people, people who did things, whether it was in the arts or business or medicine or politics. As you know, politics is bruising, but my Sam would always bounce back no matter what, and he’d be ready for the next problem.” She smiled slightly, then added, “A year ago when he received his diagnosis that nothing more could be done, Sam took my hand and said, ‘I’m not ready to leave you yet.’ Not ‘How much time have I got?’ Not ‘Do you recommend more chemo just to try?’ Nothing like that. He never mentions it. Forgive me. I’ve rattled on and you’re here to discuss poor, dear, Barbara.”

“Mrs. Holloway, anything you can tell me is helpful. Often a casual remark can help.”

Suddenly super-alert, Millicent said, “Barbara died in an accident, right?”

Cooper cleared her throat. “That seems to be the case, but we must always double-check.”

Saturday, September 11, 1784

As promised at the Friday dinner, DoRe Durkin and his son Moses brought a blooded mare to Catherine. Catherine Garth Schuyler’s fame as a successful breeder had spread throughout the mid-Atlantic. Ewing, proud of his daughter’s singular achievement, one that no man could subsume, urged Francisco Selisse to deliver his best mare to be bred to Reynaldo, Catherine’s powerful yet refined stallion. Catherine adored riding this fierce horse, scaring her father and sometimes even John, for the animal was hotter than a pistol. Yet he loved Catherine and obeyed most times.

Jeddie Rice hurried out of the barn when he heard the open wagon clunking along. The mare, Serenissima, was tied to the back, trotting along.

“She’ll live like a queen.” Jeddie took the sleek chestnut by her halter, good English leather.

Moses fell in on the other side of the horse while his father pulled the wagon away from the front of the large stable, large enough for three cupolas and one big weather vane in the center of the roof.

DoRe climbed down slowly. Like most horsemen, sooner or later one limps. He walked into the stable, his lopsided gait giving off an irregular beat.

Looking around, he said admiringly, “Best stable in Virginia. Miss Catherine thought of everything.”

“That she did,” Jeddie agreed. “The hardest part of building this stable was getting her father to agree. We still use the old stable.” He indicated it with his eyes as he led Serenissima into her stall. That was in an older, smaller stable twenty-five yards behind this one, a covered hallway connecting them.

DoRe shook his head. “Francisco wouldn’t spend a penny on a walkway, but he’ll order furniture from France.”

Moses, glum, said nothing.

As she’d seen the mare arrive, Catherine walked from the house to the stable. She handed an envelope with tips to DoRe and one to Moses.

“She’s a beauty. DoRe, did you talk Francisco into this? He can be hardheaded, you know?”

DoRe grinned. “No, Miss Catherine, you did.”

Moses knelt down on one knee. “Miss Catherine, I beg you to help me.”

Shocked and fearful, DoRe put his hand under his son’s armpit, hauling him up. “Pay him no more mind than if he was a goat barking.”

Eyes filling with tears, the young man disobeyed his father. “He violates my Ailee. He forces her, Miss Catherine. She has finger marks on her throat and sometimes a black eye and Missus Selisse beats her, declares she entices him.” Trembling, Moses sobbed, big racking sobs.

Catherine, distressed, touched Moses on the shoulder as she looked from his father back to him. “Sit over here, Moses. You, too, DoRe. Jeddie, please fetch these men something cooling.”

Led by Catherine, the two men dropped onto stacked hay bales. She pulled one into the aisle while DoRe swiftly put another bale onto that.

“Miss Catherine, this isn’t a fitting chair for you.”

Catherine smiled her dazzling smile at DoRe. “It’s not only fitting, it’s welcome. I’ve been standing and talking to my father for over an hour. You know how Father can go on.”

Nodding, smiling, DoRe sat down. “Do, Miss Catherine, do. But he knows what he’s talking about.”

Moses was crying still. Looking over at Catherine, he said, “You have your mother’s heart. Oh, please, help Ailee, Miss Catherine.”

Jeddie returned with lemonade; Bettina had fixed a pitcher and a tray with four glasses. Before Jeddie reached the stable, Bettina hustled up behind him.

“Gimme that tray, Jeddie. You have no more couth than is on a yellow stick.”

Meekly, the wiry young man allowed Bettina, who had tied on a brighter headscarf than she wore in the kitchen, to take the tray. Jeddie followed.

Catherine looked up. “Oh, Bettina, thank you.”

“Jeddie, pull over another hay bale,” Bettina ordered. “Now you all refresh yourselves. I know you two men are hungry, but I wanted to find out would you like something cold on this September day or something warm?”

While the soul of hospitality, Bettina also wanted to visit a bit with DoRe, who had lost his wife two years back. She knew a good-looking man when she saw one, and a hard-working one, too.

DoRe stood up, as did Moses. “Oh, Lord, an angel can’t cook as good as you.”

Waving him off, Bettina repeated, “Cold or hot? I have stuffed eggs, sliced chicken with crisp skin and my special tiny potatoes, in a bit of crème with parsley. That’s to set you up for peach pie. Oh, I forgot the biscuits, butter, and you know my raspberry jam. You two men need to fortify yourself for that drive home.”

DoRe held up his hand. “Bettina, stuffed eggs, cold chicken, you are temptation itself. Our missus would kill to get your cold-chicken recipe.”

Bettina, with an edge to her voice but smiling, said, “She’d have to.”

“Can we help you carry anything?” DoRe offered.

“No, the girls can help.” She shot a look at Jeddie. “You get on in the tack room and fix up some kind of table, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeddie nodded.

As Bettina left, Catherine watched her walk, head high, singing to herself. Jeddie sped into the tack room.

Catherine returned to Moses. “Shall I assume everyone knows?”

“Can’t hide the bruises.” Moses wiped his eyes.

“I say leave it,” DoRe added. “It’s the way things are, and Master will flay Moses alive if he gets in the way.”

“Yes, he will. Francisco’s evil temper is no secret,” Catherine agreed.

“You have your mother’s heart and your father’s brain. That’s what folks say about you. I will do anything you say to help my Ailee,” Moses pleaded.

“Yvonne is the head woman over there. Can she help?”

“She tries to keep Ailee busy, away from him,” Moses answered, “but he comes looking for her when he wants her.”

“Is there anyone who has it in for Ailee? Another pretty girl? A field hand who wants her?”

“All the men want her, but she’s mine.” Moses uttered this with pride. “She’s a good girl. She pays them no mind. She’s polite. I don’t think any of the girls want to hurt her.”

DoRe interjected. “They’re glad he’s after her and not them.”