East of Orleans (20 page)

“Never mind, I ain’t got enough time to tell you,” said Isabella in a hysterical tone.

Jules stood up, walked around the desk and put his arms around Isabella. “Look here, little lady, if you’ve got a problem I want to help you.” Isabella’s eyes blazed. Jules realized what he said, smiled a slow smile, and said, “Sorry ‘bout that. Can I take you somewhere?”

“Do you know how to get to Lettie McGillvrary’s place?” Asked Isabella.

“Red McGillivrary’s plantation, the one out near the cemetery?”

“Dat’s the one,” Jesse said. “Miz Lettie done come and took Miss Elora and today is Miss Laura’s birthday and Miz Kate she say dat Miz Lettie is as crazy as Alice Riley.”

“I see,” said Jules. He turned, put on his hat and gathered up the money. “Come on, let’s go.” Jesse watched Isabella glance at the money.

“Jesse, Red’s place is out Skid-a-way, isn’t it?” he asked as he ushered Isabella into his buggy. Jesse jumped in behind her.

“Yes sir, Mister Jules, I know dat’s right.”

Jules crossed over a creek bed and he was going so fast that he almost caused the buggy to turn over. He slowed when he came to the beginning of the long drive that led to Lettie’s place. The three of them saw thick black smoke clouds up ahead in the sky.

“The place is on fire!” Isabella screamed in horror.

Jules drove the buggy faster until he came to the front of the house. Lettie stood on the front porch with Elora in her arms. The baby was wearing one of Laura’s dresses.

“By God, she’s mad as a hatter,” whispered Jules.

He jumped out of the buggy, removed his coat and threw it over his head. Lettie saw Jules and she was glancing nervously in his direction. She held the baby close to her and started to run. Isabella yelled, “No!”

When Jules reached Lettie, she began screaming and pointed her finger in his face. Jules tried to wrench the baby out of Lettie’s arms. Isabella screamed hysterically. She and Jesse saw Jules grab the baby a second before Lettie disappeared into the flames, her dress on fire. Jules placed his hand over the crying baby’s eyes and ran from the house.

In shock, Isabella took Elora from Jules as he gently handed the baby to her. He was covered in black soot. In the smoke- filled distance, Jules, Jesse and Isabella saw two figures running through the burning house. It was Red and Lettie. Jesse looked up and saw Mathilde at the side of the burning house. She cried out, “Lettie! Laura!” Then she disappeared into the cloud of smoke. Chills ran up Isabella’s spine.

Isabella for the first time, noticed that Jules was shirtless. “Your shirt caught on fire?” Jules coughed and nodded. “Red’s…a dead man.” Isabella shuddered.

Isabella looked lovingly at Elora who was fine except for a few tiny scratches and black smut on her face. “Were there any servants in there?” asked Isabella.

“If there was, I didn’t see any.” Jules voice lowered. “How the hell did Lettie think she was going to make it out of that house?”

“You think Lettie set the fire on purpose?” Isabella said, her eyes welling up with emotion. Jules shrugged.

“Any chance it was an accident?” Jesse asked.

Jules shook his head. “Hell, there’s a chance, but it ain’t likely, not the way Lettie acted and then refusing to come out of the house.”

Isabella raised her eyes and gazed out at the smoldering flames.

Jesse shook his head. “What about Red; you think Miz Lettie meant to kill him, too?”

“Nah, I think Lettie was too crazy to think a thing about Red. And he was probably too drunk to know what was happening, and by the time he figured it out, it was too late to get out of there.”

Elora kicked and cooed. Isabella smiled at the baby, leaned down and kissed her. Isabella turned and looked at Jules. He winked at her. Isabella smiled and twined the gold cross necklace around her fingers.

“What are we going to do about the fire?” Isabella asked.

“I’ll have Hoyt get the boys out here as soon as we get back. Jesse, you run over and tell the coroner.” Jesse nodded.

Isabella sighed. “We now need a place to live and work.”

“I’ve heard that boy of Kate O’Brien’s is back in town,” Jules said. “What’s his name?”

“Is it Patrick?” asked Isabella.

“Patrick, yeah. Anyway, he’s had an interest in buying that place for quite some time now.”

“How do you know?” asked Isabella.

“Darling, I know everything that goes on in this town,” Jules said, grinning. “I don’t believe Lettie and Red had any family left. Jesse, why don’t you and Charlie take charge of McGillivrary’s until something is settled with that O’Brien boy. I’ll go over to the bank and see what needs to be done to sell the place. Isabella, you take charge of the finances until we get it sold.”

Isabella stared in amazement. “You mean you want me to take care of the money?”

“Hell, you can count, can’t you?”

Isabella looked up. “Yeah--”

“Good, that’s taken care of,” said Jules, guiding the buggy. “There ain’t any need making something more complicated than it is, I always say. Work smarter not harder.” Isabella and Jules exchanged a long look.

The buggy finally pulled into the livery stable and Jules turned in his seat. “Jesse, take Isabella down to the tavern and get her settled and then you and Charlie come on up to my office and we will try to organize this thing. Tell Charlie just to put a ‘closed’ sign on the door for the next three days. That will give me time to get in touch with Patrick O’Brien. If there ain’t enough money in the register to pay the four of you, hell, I’ll pay you myself until we get things back up and running.”

Jules’s feet hit the ground. He put on his coat and reached for his hat. Isabella started crying. Jules looked up at her. “Little lady, quit crying. You ain’t dead, that pretty little baby you got there is fine, and you got a lot to be proud of and thankful for. I don’t want to see any more tears on your pretty face, you hear?”

Isabella nodded and handed the baby to Jesse. She jumped out of the buggy and walked over to Jules. She threw both her arms around his thick neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, thank you, I can never thank you enough.” She looked Jules in the eye. “How will I ever repay you?”

Jules smiled a slow smile. “We’ll figure something out.”

On the day the carriage was being auctioned there had been no bids. Finally, Patrick, tall, intriguing, with solemn eyes, stepped forward. The auctioneer looked at him and said, “You here out of curiosity or do you intend to bid?”

“I stepped forward, didn’t I? For the right price, I might be able to use the buggy. I know a little about the auction business and I know that you have no offers.” With his hands dug deep in his trousers, Patrick walked around and studied the carriage.

The auctioneer tilted his head. “Okay, what do you want me to do? You’re right—it seems everyone in this town has some weird ideas about the old woman who owned the carriage. Hell, I don’t know why they just don’t buy it cheap and paint it that strange color of blue that they’ve painted on every shanty in this town. That should ward off the evil spirits.”

Patrick smiled and fixed a steady gaze on the auctioneer. “The color is haint blue.”

The auctioneer looked down at the ground, then lifted an anxious face toward Patrick. “I’ll tell you what, make me your best offer and I’ll sell you this dad-gum buggy. I want to get through the marshes before dark.” Patrick broke away from his gaze and smiled. “You’re right about that. I’d think twice about going through them marshes after dark.” Patrick bent down and examined under the carriage. He stood up, shook his head, and frowned. “I don’t need this carriage. I don’t know why I’m even considering it.” Patrick leaned back with folded arms and narrowed eyes.

The auctioneer took a small notebook and pen out of his pocket and started to figure. He rubbed his chin, leaned into Patrick and showed him the pad. “I’m going make you a deal you can’t refuse; in fact, I’m gonna practically give you that damn carriage. I’ll let you have it for this number here.”

Patrick lowered his eyes. “I don’t know. That’s more than I wanted to pay. It certainly needs work.”

The auctioneer scratched though the figures and wrote another number. “This is my last offer!” He showed the pad to Patrick.

“All right, you have a deal,” said Patrick.

Early the next morning, Patrick O’Brien took his new buggy out of the carriage house and went for a ride through
Forsyth
Park
. The morning was brisk and cool, so different from the humid air that was present later in the day. Patrick slowed the carriage down and watched the passersby. After a few minutes, he saw a young woman enter the park. Patrick sat back and watched her as she visited with one artist after another. Eager for a chance to see her, Patrick jumped out of the carriage and started walking through the park. Right before he came upon the woman, he stood and gazed. Her waist length black hair blew in the wind. She was talking to one of the artists.

“Michelangelo was put in prison, as were other great artists, but no one dared question Leonardo, he was the master,” said the artist.

“How do you know?” teased Jacqueline. “You know only what you have read and only a fool would believe everything that was put before him.”

The artist turned in his chair and raised his voice. “Did I say I believed everything that was put before me? No, I did not. But I do believe Da Vinci was the greatest.” He turned back to his easel and continued painting.

“Do you believe that the affair Michelangelo had with Vittoria Colonna inspired his painting of Revelations in the Sistine Chapel?” Jacqueline asked.

“How do you know Michelangelo had an affair with
Vittoria
?”

Jacqueline hesitated. Several other artists, who overheard, started to laugh.

“May I answer that?” Patrick offered. The colony of artists’ heads went up. “If Vittoria Colonna was half as beautiful as you, Michelangelo could not have helped but to have been inspired.” Patrick turned and looked at the artist. “As for your question, again if
Vittoria
had half the beauty of this woman, Michelangelo could not have helped himself.” Patrick smiled a slow smile and with a fixed gaze on Jacqueline said, “I’m Patrick O’Brien. And you are?” Patrick looked at the ring on her hand.

The artists stretched their necks and exchanged glances.

Jacqueline looked up and smiled.

“I have a new carriage. Would you like to go for a ride?” asked Patrick.

Jacqueline glanced at the others and then her eyes went back to Patrick. A man of slight stature and a high-pitched voice stood up, waved his hand and said, “I would!” Everyone laughed.

Patrick smiled. “Okay, anyone else?” He stared at Jacqueline. Her eyes twinkled; she sensed wildness in this man.