A Light to My Path (21 page)

“Thank you for buying me the paper,” she said. “I made this for you.” She gave him the drawing of Claire.

Grady was furious. Why was she thanking an ignorant white man who didn’t even care two cents about her? Buying the paper had been Grady’s idea. He was the one who had to lower himself to ask for the money. Kitty was always doing that, always bowing down and kissing the white folks’ feet. It made him sick.

“What is that?” Claire asked, leaning out of her carriage window. “What did she give you, Roger?”

Fuller held the picture out to her. “It’s a drawing of you, Claire. Look, it’s an excellent likeness.”

Missy Claire waved it away. “Yes, her little sketches always were amusing. Good night, Roger.”

Massa Fuller climbed into his own carriage. He was still staring at the picture in amazement as Grady closed the door. Grady was so angry he had to resist the urge to flog the horses into a wild gallop all the way down Meeting Street to the hotel.

Kitty sat on the driver’s seat beside Albert, hugging her new sheaf of paper. She had never felt happier in her life, not only because she had drawing paper again, but also because Grady had kissed her. She had never been kissed before, never even been held by a man, and she was sorry that the night had ended so soon. His kisses stirred up feelings inside her that she’d never felt before, and she wished she could have kissed him all night.

“You been hanging around with Massa Fuller’s coachman an awful lot,” Albert said as if reading her thoughts. He gave her a long, hard look before turning his attention back to the road. “I seen him kissing you,” he added.

Kitty’s face felt very warm. “Please don’t tell Missy Claire,” she whispered.

“You better watch yourself with him, girl. What’s his name?”

“Grady Fuller.”

“I been asking around about him. Some of them others say he has a girlfriend on every plantation from Beaufort to Charleston. His massa’s been courting all the white ladies, trying to find his self a wife, and meanwhile, that boy’s been loving up all their young slave gals. I hear he’s promising to marry at least a dozen gals by now. He promising you?”

“No …” But her face felt as if she was sitting in front of a blazing fireplace.

“Massa Fuller’s a gentleman. He won’t make no promises till he makes up his mind. But that young rascal boy of his is just taking advantage of silly young gals like you. He’s cocky as a rooster, and he’s collecting a whole yard full of hens. Mind he don’t play you for a fool.”

Was that why Grady had given her the paper? So that she’d fall into his arms? She remembered how willingly she’d kissed him—in fact her mouth was still tender from the crush of his lips and the stubble on his chin. She was glad Albert couldn’t see her flushed face in the dark.

“Thanks for telling me,” she mumbled.

“Yeah … well, watch you don’t get your heart broke,” he said.

The next time she ran into Grady, Kitty wasn’t so quick to fall into his arms or follow him into the shadows. He finally grew impatient with her for fending off his advances. “What’s wrong with you tonight, girl? Why’re you giving me the cold shoulder?”

“I’m very happy you gave me the paper, Grady. I’m real thankful for it… .”

“But … what? What’s the matter?”

She stared at the ground, embarrassed. “I hear I ain’t the only gal who’s been falling for your sugar.”

He lifted her chin so she had to face him. “How do I know who you’re seeing when I ain’t here?” he asked.

“Nobody—I ain’t seeing nobody.” Kitty wanted to stay angry and pull away, but he had a hold over her that she didn’t understand.

He tilted his head to one side and grinned. “You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe that the most beautiful gal in South Carolina ain’t got a dozen boyfriends? Uh uh. I ain’t believing that for one minute.”

“It’s true. You’re the only one, Grady. But from what I hear, there’s a whole hen house full of girls clucking around your feet.”

“Who’s feeding you all them stories?” The sudden rage in his eyes sent a chill of fear down her spine. Something inside Grady was like a wild animal, untamed and barely under his control. At times Kitty longed to soothe away the loss and the pain that she saw in his dark eyes. But then the anger would flare, as it did now, and she knew that she needed to run before she got hurt.

“Is it true?” she managed to say. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you ain’t sweet-talking a dozen other girls?”

“What’s so great about being the only one?” he asked, hiding his fury behind a smile. “It don’t matter to me if I’m the only man in your life.”

“Then all those things you said about me being the prettiest gal in the state—they was all lies?”

His smug grin faltered. “They weren’t lies. You are the prettiest one,” he said, and for just a moment, it was as if a mask had come off. The cocky, self-assured man melted away and she saw the real Grady, underneath. He was telling the truth.

Kitty didn’t know what to make of that. She had no experience with men, no knowledge on which to base her decisions, only Albert’s warning to be careful—and a deep, inner fear of being hurt. Her parents had fallen in love and it had led to sorrow.

“I have to go,” she said. “Missy might need me.”Walking away from him took more effort than Kitty would have ever guessed, starved as she was for love and affection. But Albert said Grady was playing her for a fool, and she didn’t want any part of that.

Grady watched her go, flatly refusing to run after her and beg. From now on he would stay far away from her. Let her sit by herself and sketch, if that’s what she wanted. What did he care? But he had told himself the same thing countless times before, and each time he’d been drawn back to her like a horse galloping the last mile home.

He cared about what Kitty thought of him. She hadn’t been just like all the others to him, another gal to win, another heart to conquer. She was different. It bothered him that she drew back in fear every time he allowed his anger to leak out. And it seemed like every time he was with her, something always made him angry—ever since the first day they’d met and she’d drawn his picture. He knew that he kept scaring her away, and he hated to see himself in her reaction, to glimpse himself the way she saw him—angry, bitter, filled with hatred.

Something was going on in his heart that Grady didn’t understand at all, something he didn’t want to happen. Maybe he was afraid to get close, just like Delia said—but that was a good thing. He certainly wasn’t going to limit himself to only one girl for the rest of his life. The only reason he’d pursued Kitty as long as he had was because Massa Fuller hadn’t been covering as much territory as he used to cover. This was the longest either of them had ever courted one woman. Well, maybe Massa Fuller was ready to limit himself, but Grady sure wasn’t, even if Kitty was the prettiest gal around. He was glad that she had walked away before she touched something deep inside him.

So why did Grady feel such a loss at the thought of never seeing her again? Why did it hurt so much to watch her walk away? Was it just his pride, his desire to win Kitty’s heart as he’d won all the others? To make matters worse, he kept running into Kitty all the time. He wished Massa Fuller would go back to the plantation or to Beaufort and stay away from Charleston for good. Grady decided to ask him about it when they reached their hotel that night.

“We going back home to Beaufort soon, Massa?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, we’re leaving next week.”

Grady sighed. Good. He wouldn’t have to see Kitty anymore. He could forget all about her, and once she was out of sight, any feelings he had toward her would quickly fade.

“But we’ll be returning right after the election,” Massa Fuller added.

“Returning to Charleston? When’s that election, Massa?”

“In November.” Fuller smiled slightly. “I’ve asked Claire Goodman to be my wife. We’re getting married this Christmas.”

The announcement upset Grady, but he didn’t know why. “That’s wonderful, Massa Fuller,” he said with a phony grin. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Grady watched Massa Fuller disappear into the Charleston Hotel, then drove the carriage around the block to the livery stable for the night. Did a chambermaid move to a new plantation with her mistress when she got married? He hoped not. He hoped so.

Grady wanted to punch somebody.

Chapter Eleven

Charleston, South Carolina December 1860

Grady pulled the horses to a halt in front of Institute Hall in downtown Charleston. He and Massa Fuller were back in the city again, staying at the Charleston Hotel after a short trip home to Beaufort. Every day, for more than a month, Grady had been waiting outside the hall while Massa attended meetings all day, then he’d drive Massa to see Missy Claire nearly every night. From what Grady had overheard, he knew that Massa thought the wrong man, Abraham Lincoln, had just been elected president. The white men were so angry about it that they’d been meeting here at Institute Hall ever since the election.

“Can I ask you a question, Massa Fuller?” Grady said as he opened the carriage door for him. “I hear everybody talking about ‘secession,’ and I’m wondering what that means.”

Massa Fuller frowned. “The United States began as a union of free, independent states,” he said. “We’re deciding whether or not South Carolina should leave that union—secede from it—now that the federal government no longer represents our interests. If secession passes, and I pray that it will, South Carolina will be an independent commonwealth once again.” Massa’s frown deepened, but Grady didn’t think he was mad at him for asking; it was the subject itself that seemed to anger him. Another white man, who had stepped from his own carriage at the same time as Fuller, joined the conversation.

“It’s everyone’s prayer, Roger. The Union has fallen into the hands of northern fanatics. It’s no longer a partnership. When the majority starts oppressing the minority, it’s time to fight back.”

“Hear! Hear!” a third man added.

Grady wondered if they would feel the same way if the Negro minority decided to fight back against their oppressors.

“By the way, Roger, congratulations on your engagement,” the first man said. He pumped Massa Fuller’s hand vigorously.

“My wife and I are looking forward to your wedding next week.”

“I daresay I’m looking forward to it, too,” Fuller replied, laughing. Grady watched them all disappear into the building. He would park the carriage somewhere and settle back for another long day of waiting, then another long evening at the Goodmans’ house, trying to avoid Kitty. It wasn’t difficult to do. With Missy Claire’s wedding to prepare for, neither Kitty nor any of the other slaves had a free moment to spare.

All of Charleston seemed to be in an uproar over secession, but Grady knew that the fuss was really about slavery. Above all else, Massa and the other planters would fight for the right to keep their slaves. There was even talk of war. Grady had driven Massa Fuller to a haberdasher’s shop and watched through the front window as a tailor measured him for a new uniform. While they’d been home in Beaufort, Massa Fuller had been made a captain in the Beaufort Volunteer Artillery.

Grady was waiting for his master outside the hall a few days later, when several men burst through the doors, shouting, “Freedom! Secession has passed!” Within minutes the excitement spread throughout downtown Charleston. Shops closed, church bells rang, and by the time Massa Fuller emerged with the other men, all wreathed in smiles, artillery had begun to boom, rattling windows all over the city.

“What’s going on, Massa?” Grady asked. “There a war starting?”

“We’ve signed the Ordinance of Secession. South Carolina has become the first state ever to secede from the Union.”

Grady forced a smile and said, “That’s good news, Massa. That’s what you been wanting, ain’t it?”

“Yes, it certainly is.”

“Where’d you like me to take you now?” he asked as he loosened the reins from the hitching post.

“Let’s stop at that haberdasher’s and see if my uniform is ready.”

“I seen an awful lot of people putting on uniforms lately. There gonna be a war?”

“I doubt it. We joined the Union voluntarily, and we’re entitled to leave it voluntarily. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Our state’s militia laws require all men my age to serve for three months every year. As soon as I return to Beaufort, my artillery unit is going to begin drilling.” Massa seemed too excited to stand still, much less climb into the carriage for the slow drive through the clogged streets.

“Looks like them shops is all closing early today to celebrate,” Grady said as he surveyed the bustling streets around Institute Hall. “We better be hurrying to that tailor shop before it closes, too.”

“I’m getting married tomorrow!” Fuller shouted above the clanging bells of the neighboring church. “From now on Claire and I will celebrate our anniversary and our independence at the same time.”

Grady rose very early the next morning to decorate the carriage with holly and evergreen boughs the way Massa wanted. He braided ribbons in the horses’ manes and tails, and fixed feather plumes to their harnesses. Then he drove a very nervous-looking Massa and his two sons to the church. Missy Claire arrived in her carriage a short time later, and Grady saw Kitty, briefly, as she helped her mistress into the church. But he quickly lost sight of her as hundreds of guests began arriving in their carriages. He didn’t get to see the wedding as he waited outside the church with the other drivers.

When it was over, Massa came down the steps with Missy Claire on his arm. Church bells rang, and guests showered the couple with rice as Grady helped them into the carriage for the drive back to Missy Claire’s house. He would have to remember not to call her Missy Claire anymore. She was Missus Fuller now.

The December day turned out to be sunny and unusually warm, so while the white folks gathered for a celebration in the Goodmans’ second-floor ballroom, Grady and all the guests’ drivers and slaves were treated to a much smaller party outside in the yard. The jib windows of the Big House had been flung open, and some of the slaves danced to the lively music that drifted down from the wedding reception. Grady didn’t see any gals his age that he wanted to dance with. And he didn’t have to worry about bumping into Kitty, since the Goodmans’ slaves were busy cooking and serving food to hundreds of people.