Indigo (21 page)

When Galen didn't answer, Maxi said softly, "Goodnight, Galeno," and she quietly exited from the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

He was in Detroit by the next evening, deciding perhaps he needed some distance from Whittaker. Galen did not recognize the manservant who opened the old mansion's door. It made no matter because over Galen's lifetime most of the servants had been strangers. His grandmother Vada rarely kept servants more than a season because her bitter spirit usually drove them to seek employment elsewhere.

Galen passed his hat and coat to the unsmiling man, then made his way to the drawing room.

As usual the room was filled with hangers on. Most were family; penniless, destitute relatives who depended on Vada for their very existence. In return, she treated them as badly as the servants, caring nothing for their opinions, feelings, or desires. Galen thought her treatment of them no better than they deserved for putting up with the tyrannical old harpy in exchange for free lodging and meals. He'd moved out and into his own home the day he gained his majority. Forty years ago, Vada had fled to this ancestral Michigan home in order to escape the gossip that roared through New Orleans in the wake of her husband's desertion. He'd tossed her aside for his dark-skinned mistress only two generations removed from the Mother Continent.

The others in the room, men both young and old, competed with the family to be treated like the dirt beneath Vada's feet. Their motives centered around the young wealthy daughters of Vada's friends.

His entry into the room brought silence. Vada, seated on a chair surrounded by her court, drawled in a loud voice, "Well, if it isn't my prodigal grandson. Back from your annual sojourn with your whore?"

Galen had learned long ago not to let her vicious tongue bother him and it did not now. Knowing how much it infuriated her to have to wait, he took his time, nodding coolly at the assemblage before acknowledging Vada or her words. "I came to visit Racine,
grandmere.”
He winked at his aunt Racine and she smiled in reply. "As usual, where I've been is none of your concern."

The silence of the others made the confrontation that much more charged. His grandmother's mulatto-blue eyes flashed anger. "Then I trust you will not sully my house with your presence for very long." She then called to her eldest son, "Reginald! Take me to my chambers. I can't stand the stench of him."

Galen's uncle Reggie hastened to her side. Vada stood and slapped her cane to the floor. Bouyed by Reginald's solicitous hand, she strode with stiff majesty from the room.

As soon as Vada retired, her daughter Racine hurried to her nephew to give him the welcoming embrace he deserved. He returned the greeting, swinging her around until she giggled like a young girl. "Put me down you wretch."

He smiled and eased her to her feet. Of the ten people in the room, only Racine had the spirit to defy Vada and approach Galen with love. Racine and Galen's late mother Ruth had been sisters. Ruth had been only a bit over a year older and the sisters grew up very close to one another. Galen always believed the loving parts of his mother continued to live on in Racine.

Racine looked up at her tall, handsome nephew, and said teasingly, "That whore must be feeding you well; you've put on a little weight since I saw you last."

Galen laughed. His grandmother believed Galen's annual April to October disappearances were tied to a whore he had sequestered away. Only Racine knew the truth. "I came to offer you dinner, Tante. Will you join me?"

"Why of course, just let me get my cloak."

Although it would soon be the dinner hour at his grandmother's table, Galen had no intentions of joining them. He'd been forbidden to attend these dinners since the day he moved to his own quarters more than a decade ago. He hadn't protested his grandmother's edict. Seeing Racine was the only reason he'd come this evening.

While Galen waited for his aunt's return, he ignored the others' scrutiny. In his eyes they did not exist in much the same way he hadn't existed in theirs while growing up. Not one of the uncles, great-aunts, or distant cousins had come to the defense of a little boy whose only crime lay in his mother's desire to be with the man she loved. Only Racine had sheltered the hurt and bewildered orphan child he'd once been. He would never forget her kindness.

Galen and his beloved aunt had dinner at the river house he'd leased last autumn. Most of the servants had been in his service for many years and they loved Racine as much as their employer. Having been notified earlier in the day of Galen's plan to invite her to the evening meal, they'd practically outdone themselves in providing her favorite dishes.

When the last of the dessert dishes were cleared, Racine groaned and pushed back her chair. "I'm stuffed," she confessed. "Go and tell Little Reba to pack her bags because she'll be coming to cook for me. You already employ Maxi, and no bachelor should be allowed two great cooks in one lifetime."

Galen chuckled. "Maxi says the little one is not learned enough to call herself a cook yet."

"Well, Maxi's wrong. That woman your grandmere has masquerading as a cook could take lessons from Maxi's little niece Reba."

They removed themselves to Galen's small study and Racine viewed her golden nephew over her glass of after-dinner wine.

"So, Galeno, what do you hear on the wind?"

"There are rumblings of secession in the South, and talk of a war to preserve the Union should it occur. How it will affect slavery, no one's certain."

"How much longer do you propose to stay on the Road?"

"I've no idea, but until the situation changes I'll continue tweaking their noses."

Galen could not ignore the concern in her face. He knew she respected his work as the Black Daniel and would never ask that he discontinue the role, but like the mother she considered herself to be, she worried constantly about his safety.

"I heard you were injured last autumn."

He nodded.

"I also hear you've taken to having maple syrup in your coffee."

Galen surveyed her slowly.

Her eyes, so dark blue they appeared black sometimes, were unreadable. She said, "I have my own ears to the wind."

He smiled. "The woman who hid me was a Free Producer. I suppose I've grown accustomed to it."

Galen got up and poured himself more wine from the crystal decanter atop the desk.

"Raymond says she's very beautiful."

Galen lifted his glass and took a small swallow. "Raymond talks too much, as usual."

"He's only concerned."

"He's only concerned because he hopes to have her for himself."

"The two of you have shared women over the years, so why the possessiveness now?"

Galen smiled his surprise at his aunt's question. "I'm getting too old to share."

Racine held his eyes a moment. "Then she really is as innocent as Raymond described?"

"Yes."

"She's not of our class though?"

Galen shook his head no. "She's slave born,
Tante"

"We all were at one time, but your
grandmere
will suffer a death spasm for sure."

"The thought has crossed my mind."

They both smiled, then Racine asked, "Do you love this innocent?"

He shrugged. "Maxi is all but convinced. Me. I'm not certain."

"Vada and the others will not treat her well."

"I will kill the first one to offend her."

Racine raised her glass to him in toast. "I knew I raised you well." Then she asked, "When do I meet this beauty?"

"Soon,
Tante.
Soon. In fact that's why I wanted to have dinner with you. I need a favor."

Racine laughed. "And here I thought you just wanted your old
tante's
company."

Galen grinned.

She waved him on. "Well, go ahead, now that you've dulled my mind with good food and drink, ask away."

"Will you come and hostess my household for a few months?"

Racine stared confused. "You've never needed a hostess before, why now?"

"Maxi insists Hester needs a duenna."

Racine stared in surprise. "Maxi has never cared one fig about the vast numbers of women you've entertained over the years."

"I know—"

Racine peered at him. "Galeno, how serious are you about this woman?"

"So serious I actually plotted her seduction. I've never done that with an innocent before."

"But she has a fiance according to Raymond. You've never gone out of your way to pursue someone belonging to another. Well, I take that back, there was that countess in Madrid. I—"

"She is no longer engaged, but
Tante,
promise me you won't tell Hester any of those stories."

Racine stared. "Are you certain this is you, Galeno?

You, who never gave cat's tail about society or rules or—"

"Tante
Racine."

"I'm sorry,
neveu,
it's just—" Racine paused, taking in his serious eyes. "This young woman has really affected you, hasn't she?"

Galen didn't answer.

"Then I will come and stay, just so I may meet this remarkable woman."

"Thank you,
Tante."
Then he added softly, "I think."

Hester saw nothing of Galen during the week following her visit to the Folly. Gail moved in during that time and Hester was elated because she now had someone to share her house with and something to do besides muse upon Galen's next kisses.

A few days after Gail settled in, she and Hester decided to take a trip to Detroit. Bea Meldrum's son, Lemuel, made his living by driving an old refurbished carriage there three days a week. Anyone not wanting to drive the thirty-mile trip themselves could make arrangements with Lemuel to convey them for a small price. He'd started the taxi service soon after his arrival a year ago in Whittaker. Like his mother, he too was a fugitive. It had taken him nearly a decade to learn Bea's whereabouts after his own escape, but once they were reunited, Bea cried with happiness for days.

Hester and Abigail had Lemuel stop by for them a little after dawn as Gail had an appointment with her doctor in Detroit. Hester went along to keep her company, and also to do some shopping. She'd finally decided to draw out some of the funds she'd received from the sale of her land.

Once they reached their destination, Lemuel let everyone out. They would meet him for the return ride later in the afternoon. Abigail hired a hack to take her to her doctor's home while Hester made her way to the Free Produce store.

Free Produce began as a Quaker movement in the 1820's. By the 1830's many Blacks had embraced the concept, especially those residing in Philadelphia. At the city's Bethel Church, five hundred Blacks formed the Colored Free Produce Society of Pennsylvania. They stocked their store with goods made from free labor, and made it into a booming business. They were so successful that in January of 1831 the women of Bethel Church founded the Colored Female Free Produce Society.

Hester supported the ban on slave-produced products whenever she could. The store in Detroit founded by members of Detroit's historic Second Baptist Church was always a pleasure to shop in. They stocked everything from antislavery pamphlets and books, to ten and twenty-five-pound bags of free sugar. The items in the store were a bit higher priced than the non-free stores, but unlike the free stores in the Northeast, Detroit's prices were slightly lower due to the ready access to goods brought in by the lake freighters. Detroit Free Producers also had the convenience of shopping in Canada right across the Detroit River.

Hester went into the store looking for dress fabrics. She hadn't purchased any in quite some time. Before she sold the land to Galen, her funds had been designated for essentials only. Now, however, she had the urge and the means to splurge a bit. Her friend Kate Bell was an excellent seamstress and could whip up a dress in no time.

As Hester looked over the selection of dress goods the store had on display, she spied a bolt of ivory silk. The card above it said the silk had come from the Asian continent and had been imported by way of Canada.

Hester thought the silk the most beautiful material she'd ever seen, but the price was far too steep. She dearly wanted to own the silk, but the practical Hester Wyatt raised her head. She knew if she went with cheaper fabrics she could purchase twice as much. Besides, where in Whittaker would she wear a gown so fine? She most certainly couldn't have Kate fashion the gown for Hester to plant in. The practical Hester won out. Giving the silk one last wistful caress of her hand, she turned and stumbled right into the solid wall of Galen Vachon's chest. His steadying hands kept her upright.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I—wasn't watching." Where on earth had he come from? He seemed to have sprouted from underneath the floorboards.

He apologized smoothly, "It was my fault. I didn't see you down there."

She cut a look up to his sparkling eyes and asked with mock offense, "Are you mocking my height, sir?"

"One cannot mock what isn't there,
petite."

His habit of addressing her by that diminutive always made her head spin and she'd yet to find a way to counteract the effects. "What are you doing here?"