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Authors: Lynn Gale - Unspoken Love

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BOOK: Unspoken Love
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As dusk settled over the plantation, they donned their coats and, in the crisp air, strode to Warren’s cabin.

After presenting Billy with the marbles and Warren with the tasty dessert, they started to leave when Billy chimed, “We have something for you, Jenny.” He handed her a small package. “Open it,” he said excitedly.

Jenny removed the rumpled paper and pulled out a red ribbon. She hugged Billy and Warren. “Thank you both.”

As Nicholas and Jenny prepared to leave, Jenny’s voice echoed in the room. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” everyone chimed.

Bathed in the holiday spirit, she and Nicholas headed for the house, picking up pace as the air turned frigid.

They retired to the parlor and sat by the flickering firelight. Sharing an amiable mood, they temporarily shelved their deep-seated feelings.

Nicholas looked on while Jenny read aloud from a book of Christmas poems. Eventually his eyes shifted to the Christmas tree that she had decorated, then to the soft glow of the lamp, and on to the gleaming embers in the fireplace. Moved by the festive surroundings and caught up in the Christmas spirit, he spoke of happy Christmases past when his family was alive. He handed her a package.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the unexpected gift from him.

Nicholas grinned. “Open it,” he encouraged.

She scanned the note tucked into the ribbons.

Merry Christmas, Jenny

Nicholas

Removing the tissue paper, she found a richly enameled hairbrush and hand mirror embossed with paintings of red roses amid silver trim.

“You went to considerable length to purchase these!” She gasped. “Thank you, Nicholas!”

“It was my pleasure, Jenny.”

“But I have no gift for you,” she frowned.

“You cooked a feast for me today and stirred fond memories with your festive spirit,” Nicholas chimed. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

When Jenny retired to her room, a warm glow stole over her as she removed the old hairbrush and replaced it with the vanity accessories Nicholas had given her.

A smile formed at the corners of her mouth as she got into bed. Feeling good that she’d been able to give gifts to others on this Christmas Day, she closed her eyes in peaceful slumber.

Chapter 11

In February of 1851, Molly Hayden and Wade Dillon walked down the aisle at the church in Greenville. Parson Williams married the handsome couple, and immediately after, a wedding reception followed at the Town Hall. As the guests filed into the building, Nicholas stopped to speak with Jason Walker.

Giving the men a chance to visit alone, Jenny meandered to the table, gazing at the decorations in honor of Molly’s marriage. She touched the festoons of red ribbon clustered with dried roses that draped the tables.
If I own a shop, I will have lots of dainty flowers and lace like this,
she reflected as the dream of being a shopkeeper returned. Perhaps someday she would see her plan realized, for she hadn’t given up hope. By marrying Nicholas, her ambition had only been postponed. A woman’s laughter broke into her reverie, and she temporarily tucked away her thoughts.

Aunt Thelma and Ellie carried platters of finger food and set them on the table while Mary stirred punch in a silver bowl.

“I’ll set out the glasses,” Jenny offered. “The folks will want to quench their thirst when the dancing begins.”

The band brought in their musical instruments and began to play a waltz. Molly and Wade danced the first dance, then the honored pair encouraged others to join them. On this happy occasion, the men grabbed their partners and twirled them about the dance floor while teenage girls giggled and flirted with young men.

Sipping on a glass of punch, Jenny looked up and saw Blake Preston striding toward her, an engaging smile playing upon his handsome features. He helped himself to a piece of wedding cake.

“Hello, Jenny,” he said. He took another bite of the sweet, moist pastry. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

Jenny hesitated, fearing Nicholas’s reprisal as she recalled their turbulent meeting in the raspberry patch. “I don’t think I should . . .”

“We are childhood friends. No one will think anything of it,” Blake coaxed.

Doubts plagued her, yet she graciously accepted his hand as acquaintances looked on. “Maybe just one dance.”

Nicholas watched them from across the room. He had just witnessed a beautiful wedding that held no deceit and deeply regretted that he and Jenny had not celebrated in the same fashion. His marriage was indeed a mockery, as Jenny had often reminded him. Again, he glanced through the throng of people at Jenny, taking in her radiant smile as she glided across the floor with Blake. Her upswept hair glistened, and tiny ringlets surrounded her dainty face. The lavender gown she wore exposed rounded curves and thrust her breasts upward. He yearned to rain kisses over every inch of her creamy skin. Desperately trying not to embarrass Jenny by arguing with Blake, he turned away from the striking pair and strode to the table.

Dipping the ladle into a large silver bowl, he filled his glass with bittersweet punch and forced himself to converse with those standing nearby.

Blake swung Jenny across the dance floor. “I am delighting in your charming presence,” he sang. Eventually he asked, “How is everything at the plantation?”

“Things are going well,” Jenny lied. She couldn’t tell him how confused she felt and that she was besotted with Nicholas one minute, only to frown on him the next.

He leaned toward her and whispered, “I’m dazzled with your beauty and cat-green eyes. Many times over, I have regretted not asking you to marry me. Now I am paying the price, aching for a love that I can never have.” Momentarily forgetting himself, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

Jenny gasped at Blake’s daring confession. She opened her mouth to speak but clamped her lips shut when she saw Nicholas striding toward them.

Nicholas masked his annoyance with Blake and addressed Jenny. “I want to speak with you, Jenny. Let’s step outside.” Promptly, he whisked her out of the room. Dusk descended about them as Nicholas pulled her onto the gazebo and held her firmly in his grasp. “I don’t take well to others kissing you,” he said more calmly than he felt. Drawing her into his embrace, he sought her lips and kissed her deeply. Waves of pleasure cascaded through him, igniting his passion.

Jenny wanted him to go on kissing her for eternity. He exuded sensuality and strength as his scorching fingers gently massaged her hips. He released her lips and trailed kisses down her nape. “I want to make love to you under the stars and profess to everyone that you are mine alone,” he said huskily.

His words sank into her hazy thoughts.
What am I doing? I am acting like a wanton woman on public grounds?
She glanced about the area, grateful no one had seen them. Her thoughts riveted back to Nicholas. She couldn’t succumb to him. She broke free of his grasp. “It’s time we left for home,” she said, then ran through the garden and returned to the Town Hall.

Nicholas stood in the gazebo, striving to put out the flames of passion that she’d stirred within him. He knew she was fighting an inner battle, and though she might act cold toward him, her vibrant body had sent him another message. Gaining control of his feelings, he strode inside and saw Jenny bidding Molly and Wade farewell.

Jenny hugged Molly then stood on tiptoes to kiss Wade’s cheek. “I wish you both a wonderful marriage,” she said, bubbling with enthusiasm for them.

Nicholas strode up to them. “I add my congratulations.”

“Thank you, Nicholas.” Molly beamed. Candor replaced her jovial mood, and she addressed Jenny. “I met Emma Brooks the other day. She’s a delightful person. I’m glad you found her to take over my chores.”

“Aunt Thelma said Emma lodged at a boarding house prior to moving to the farm. Father hired her on the spot. I think she’ll make a good companion for him. Emma is a caring and experienced woman.” A twinge of guilt seized her for not being available to tend her father, but she shoved the thought away. She knew he would rather see her married than have her looking after him, his motive being he wanted grandbabies. “I’m sorry Father couldn’t attend today, but you know his thoughts are with you,” she said pensively.

Foregoing staying the night at Aunt Thelma’s, Jenny and Nicholas started for home. As he helped her into the carriage, their tension increased, and neither spoke.

The moon shone above them on that cold winter night and frost scattered the dormant grassland. An owl perched in a tree hooted in the darkness, and a rabbit darted across their path, causing Nicholas to have to calm the horses. There was an occasional rustling in the bushes as creatures scurried nearby, keeping the troubled twosome alert as they traveled the long distance to the plantation.

Jenny glanced at Nicholas. He was but a shadow against the lantern light. Still, she knew every inch of him by heart. She nearly reached out and touched him, then hardened her reserve.

When they arrived home, they went their separate ways, their inner thoughts left unspoken.

On May 25, Jenny found a small package in her room with a note that read,
Happy Birthday, Jenny.
She opened the box and brought out an expensive gold chain. Nicholas appeared in the doorway with a mischievous grin on his face.

“How did you know it was my birthday? And why have you given me such a fine gift?”

“The chain is the very least I could do for your birthday, Jenny. I asked Jason Walker for the exact date.”

Jenny felt shy, embarrassed, and undeserving of his gift. “Thank you,” she mumbled, averting her gaze. She sensed considerable thoughts were racing through his mind, tormenting him as they did her.

Nicholas stepped into the room and cupped her chin in his large hand. Bringing her face upwards, he tenderly kissed her mouth. His hot lips scorched her skin and left her wanting more.

When he released her lips, Jenny gazed into his smoldering eyes. Drenched in passion, she nearly wrapped her arms around him until her rational instinct took over. She gently moved him away. Masking tumultuous emotions, she returned the gold chain to its box. “I’ll wear it on special occasions,” she said softly. “Now, I must go to the kitchen and prepare dinner.”

Nicholas swallowed hard and brought his feelings under control.

“Yes, go,” he answered hoarsely. He watched her hurry from the room, fighting the temptation to call her back and love her passionately.

Chapter 12

The year had come and gone. Jenny had fulfilled the contract between her and Nicholas. She was now free to go. Nicholas hadn’t spoken of her leaving, but she thought that surely he would be eager for her to vanish from his carefully planned life. Regardless, she couldn’t stay with him a day longer and live this mockery of a marriage. She recalled the day he proposed to her, saying he didn’t want saddled with a simpering twit who wouldn’t release him from marriage. He hadn’t kissed her since her twenty-first birthday, nor spoken endearments to her. The scowl he often wore and his probing green eyes tormented her, and she knew she must go. After much soul-searching, she convinced herself not to go back home. Father would be shocked, to say the least, and he liked Nicholas. More than anything, though, he wanted grandchildren.

When she chose to leave, Nicholas was out in the fields with Warren Bond. Grabbing pen and paper, she wrote a note simply stating,
You may start the divorce proceedings
. Wistfully, she removed the wedding band Nicholas had given her and placed it beside the letter. She wanted to see him one more time before saying good-bye but tensed at the thought.
Why prolong the parting?
her confused heart asked. Going to the study, she scraped together enough money to pay for her expenses. Nicholas had offered to pay her a staggering sum of money for being his wife, but she couldn’t take it in good conscience. She didn’t want to be a bought woman.

She hurried to her room and stuffed her belongings into two valises, then rushed down to the stabl
es and sought out Billy. “Please hitch the wagon for me and take me to Stops Landing. I’ll be leaving on the steamboat.”

“Does Nicholas know that you are going, Jenny?”

“No.” She gazed at Billy’s puzzled expression and felt she owned him an explanation at her sudden departure. “Billy, I know this must be hard for you to understand, but Nicholas and I have our disagreements. It may help us both to be apart from one another. I don’t want you to tell him where you are taking me. Will you promise me that?” She cupped his chin in her hand and waited for his reply.

“Okay, Jenny, but I’ll miss you terribly. Do you think you’ll return someday?”

Unwilling tears sprang into her eyes. “Perhaps someday, Billy,” she fibbed. On a stronger note, she said, “Let’s hasten lest Nicholas come back and chastise us both.”

Billy hurried to do her bidding, although she could tell he felt uneasy. He took her to Stops Landing and dropped her at the wharf. Tears threatened to fall as he hugged Jenny, then he climbed back onto the wagon, waved farewell, and started for home.

Jenny watched until Billy was out of sight. Sadness gripped her. Under Warren’s supervision, he’d become familiar with the area around Leland, and she knew he would arrive home soon. Tucking her emotions in the recesses of her mind, she walked along the pier. She entered the crowded depot and saw the clerk boldly assessing her, making her wish for a chaperone since few women traveled alone. “I’d like to buy passage on the Marylou,” she stated.

“Where do you want to go?” asked the clerk.

“I want to go to—to—” She glanced up at the board and saw the towns posted. “Natchez,” she answered, picking the town at random. Reaching into her reticule, she brought out enough money to pay her way.

The clerk took her coins, his eyes still assessing her.

Jenny glanced around the room at the waiting people. Some of them smiled warmly while others eyed her inquisitively, almost snobbishly. Displaying self-assurance, she grabbed her baggage and left the building to await the steamboat.

She sat on a barrel along the dock, biding her time. She began to sweat due to the humidity, which caused her gown to cling to her petite frame. Men blatantly ogled her, but she avoided their lustful stares and concentrated instead on the waves lapping along the dock.

Suddenly a thought struck her, and she leapt from the barrel to rush back inside.
I must let father know of my plans, well—sort of.
Borrowing quill and paper, she penned a note to him, briefly explaining her sudden departure. She didn’t speak of her estranged relationship with Nicholas, and her letter wasn’t clearly defined, leaving one to think that both she and Nicholas might be going on a vacation. Since Nicholas didn’t need her now and was legally free of her, she assumed he wouldn’t seek her out at her father’s house. After posting the letter, she rushed outside.

When the Marylou arrived, Jenny took her position in line to board.

She found her temporary living quarters and stepped into the cabin. She removed her shoes, momentarily allowing herself respite from the stifling weather. The rich thick carpet soothed her feet. She sat on the bed and touched the soft down pillow, grateful that she didn’t have to sleep on deck as those low on funds would have to do.

She unpacked her clothes and placed them in the small drawers, then removed her damp garments and sponged herself with tepid water. Refreshed, she draped a towel about her and glanced out the porthole. As the steamboat slowly moved downstream toward Natchez, she took in a fortress of trees and untamed land. Her gaze shifted to small frontier cabins sandwiched along the way where, no doubt, hard-working people sought to carve out a living. She remembered how hard Nicholas had labored on the plantation. He was, indeed, a dedicated man, she reflected. Gray clouds covered the sun, and it started to rain. This served to heighten her sense of loneliness since leaving
Small Timbers
. Fighting tears, she came away from the window and glanced at the clock. Noting it was almost dinnertime, she donned a fresh gown and brushed her hair, sweeping it away from her face. She ventured out of the cabin and strode to the dining room where several people had already gathered.

Jenny listened to their gleeful chatter as they relayed tales of their travels—where they had been and where they were going. Preferring to dine alone, she found a secluded seat away from the crowd and awaited her dinner.

A tall, handsome man with amber brown eyes strode to her table. Flashing her a brilliant smile that enhanced his tan complexion, he sat down beside her. “I’m Zachary Brown, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, a hint of merriment in his deep voice. “I saw you come aboard today.”

Jenny sent him a curt nod, then sought to ignore him.

Oblivious to Jenny’s disregard, Zachary took the initiative and pulled her into his confidence, telling her tales of riding the steamship down the mighty Mississippi and sharing countless anecdotes. “I am a gambler by trade and ride the river, playing my hand at cards. More often than not, I come out the victor and claim my opponents’ spoils,” he boasted.

As they dined, Jenny spoke very little. Yet as the evening wore on, in spite of her determination to ignore him, Zachary had her laughing and enjoying his company as the steamboat sailed downstream.

On several occasions, Zachary asked the steward to refill their wine glasses, then continued speaking of his passion with steamboats.

“I’ve been fascinated with paddle wheelers since I was a child,” he said. “You’ve got to respect the ships. They’re a great source of travel but need constant oversight to prevent calamities.” A somber expression crossed his handsome features. “I remember the disasters, too. One night when I was in New Orleans, a ship on the levee exploded, destroying boats docked beside it. It was a terrifying sight when fire lit the sky, burning several boats and spreading to the buildings on shore.” He took a sip of wine and savored the pungent taste. “Another time when I was riding up the Mississippi River, a steamboat carrying a cargo of cotton was heading our way. A spark shot out from the stokehold and landed on the cotton, setting off an inferno. The burning wreckage was a sight to see, and the screams of injured people, well, it’s a sound I hope never to hear again.”

“That must have been horrible,” Jenny commented. “I hope I never encounter a burning ship.” While listening to Zachary’s stories, she soon realized that imbibing that much alcohol was not something she was used to. “I feel flushed and lightheaded,” she said. “I am not accustomed to the rolling water.” Queasiness settled in, and she saw her reflection in the mirror. The color had drained from her face, and her legs felt heavy as she staggered from the room, fighting to keep her food down.

On deck, she gripped the railing and hung her head over the side of the ship to retch. Steadily the rain fell, soaking her garments as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Unsteady and disoriented, she continued to weave, gripping the side of the ship and desperately trying not to slip overboard.

As dusk turned into darkness, Zachary appeared on deck. Moving swiftly, he came to Jenny’s rescue when she lost her footing and nearly tumbled overboard. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to her cabin. Once inside, he lit the lamp, then helped her out of her soiled clothes.

“I still feel sick,” Jenny said, feeling the rolling river beneath her feet. The fiery liquid that she had consumed earlier coursed through her veins, rendering her helpless as she fell onto the bed.

“You’ll be all right after you get some sleep.” Zachary covered her with the sheet, then stood by the bed studying her ivory face. After a few moments, he extinguished the light and exited the room.

Nakao stood in the passageway, ready to come to Jenny’s aid. With agility, he backed away and returned to the deck. It was good Zachary had left Jenny’s cabin.

Unbeknownst to Jenny, he had boarded the ship behind her. He had been scouting the area, looking for better employment for himself and Waoota. Leaving Waoota to work the farm until he sent for him, he canvassed the area and came upon Jenny. When he saw her sitting on the dock in the sweltering heat, he knew something was amiss. He didn’t think he should interfere but, rather, watch over her until he knew her plans.

A beautiful woman like Jenny would have to contend with lusty men as they vied for her affections. From afar, he had watched the stranger barge into Jenny’s life. Unsure of his motives, he took a wait-and-see approach. Remembering the debt he owed Jenny, he knew employment could wait if he could protect her in some small way. Waoota was a free man because she had interceded on their behalf. Reaffirming his commitment, he vowed to keep a silent watch over her and offer his protection.

Tired from working in the fields, Nicholas rode up to the house. As the brilliant sun sank behind the trees and dusk settled around him, he dismounted and sent Dexter to the stables.

Famished, he stepped into the kitchen, eager to eat one of Jenny’s scrumptious meals. There was no mouth-watering aroma. “Jenny?” She didn’t reply. Thinking she might be sick again, he began his search upstairs.

He stepped into her immaculately clean room and spied a yellow ribbon lying on the floor. He retrieved the ribbon and placed it on the bureau, catching sight of Jenny’s wedding band lying beside a note. He read Jenny’s abrupt good-bye and felt his world collapsing around him. He picked up the wedding band and rolled it between his fingers. He hadn’t wanted her to leave and, knowing the year was up, avoided discussing it with her. He’d hoped she would stay on at the plantation.
If only I’d expressed my feelings to her!
He didn’t know what loneliness was until today, for already he missed her pleasing smile and enthusiasm. She had a way of making him feel alive with excitement, even under the strain in which they had lived this past year.
Did she return to the farm? If so, how did Thomas take the news? What if she ventured to another town where I might never see her again?
He dropped the ring into a drawer for safekeeping, then rushed to the stables.

He was even more perplexed when he saw Daisy in her stall, for he’d fully expected Jenny to ride away on the spirited mare. His eyes shifted to Billy who was unhitching the wagon, a forlorn look on his face. “Billy, do you know where Jenny went?”

“Sort of,” he mumbled, casting his eyes downward.

“And?”

“I-I promised Jenny that I wouldn’t tell.”

Nicholas forced him to meet his gaze. “Where is Jenny? Did she go home to her father?”

“No,” he replied, tears brimming in his eyes. “Don’t make me tell you, Nicholas! I’ve got to keep my word to Jenny.”

Placing an arm around the youth, he gave him a reassuring hug. “I understand your loyalty to Jenny, Billy, but danger could be stalking her this very minute. Was she traveling alone?”

“Yes,” he said, relaxing his stance a little.

“Did she go to Greenville?” Nicholas coaxed. He saw the resolute look on Billy’s face and encouraged, “It’s okay to tell me where Jenny is.”

The seconds slipped away until, finally, Billy shrugged his shoulders with resignation. “I took Jenny to Stops Landing. I think she was going by steamboat.”

Nicholas looked into Billy’s sad eyes. “Do you know her destination?”

“No,” he replied, wiping his tear-smudged cheeks. “I didn’t mean any harm, Nicholas. I just wanted to help Jenny. I want her to come back more than anything!”

Nicholas attempted to put Billy’s mind at ease. “You did what you thought was right, Son. Go on home. Warren will be expecting you.”

Billy started to leave, then stopped abruptly. An inquisitive look swept over his boyish features. “Are you going after Jenny, Nicholas?”

“You bet I am, Billy. First thing tomorrow I’ll ride over to Stop Landings. The clerk will probably remember which ship Jenny boarded.”

Preparing to leave at daylight, Nicholas strode to the house and packed a grip. In the silence of the night, he lay on the bed, Jenny’s comely face and bright green eyes engraved on his mind.

With the storm behind them, the clouds parted, allowing the sun to welcome in a new day. Having slept off the effects of the wine, Jenny awakened. She rose from the bed and splashed water on her face, grateful she had finally become accustomed to the ship’s moving. Glancing about the quarters, she saw her garments lying in a heap on the floor. A frown creased her brow as she tried to recall removing them. She slipped into her petticoat and donned a mauve cotton gown. When she had dressed, she brushed her hair and pinned it into a chignon. Diligently, she sponged her soiled garments and draped them across the chair to dry before leaving the cabin to stroll around the deck.

BOOK: Unspoken Love
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