Eleven

Harry squinted at the headstone nearest her. Her mother’s grave. Then what was the cross beside it for? They had only learned of Tenley’s death a few weeks ago. Zeke and Sadie had both spoken of the letter Oliver received from Tenley’s commander. Neither had said a word about his remains being received. Surely Sadie’s brother couldn’t be buried here in Virginia.

But the earth where she knelt was just growing up in tender grass, and he could see that the grave was much newer than Mrs. McEwan’s.

The obvious truth broke on him, but Harry refused to believe it. Against his will, the many comments Zeke had dropped flooded his memory.

Mr. Oliver is resting. Mr. Oliver wasn’t disturbed by the storm. Mr. Oliver is no better today, but no worse.

It couldn’t be. Sadie wouldn’t lie to him so blatantly. He tried to recall the things she had said about her father, and suddenly he was sure. Her statements that she couldn’t go on living as she was, and her cryptic remark about saying one thing and living another. . .it all made sense now.

He wanted to go to her, but the incredulity he felt brought on a heavy dread. Did he really want to know the truth? That would mean confronting the woman he loved. Harry didn’t want to accuse people he had believed to be his closest friends of lying to him. But then, wasn’t that why she hadn’t told him? She didn’t want to face that kind of chaos, either. Perhaps they would all be better off if he left without saying a word.

He needed time to think. He started to turn away, wondering if he could escape without Sadie knowing he had seen her, but at that moment she rose and turned around.

She gasped and clutched her hands together at her breast, staring at him. Her lips were parted, and the anguish he saw in her eyes stabbed through the dull pain that had encased him.

She knew he had figured it out; his expression must have revealed it. There was no way to make her believe otherwise. Harry wished he weren’t so transparent.

He took a few steps forward, and she met him at the low gate.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

She swallowed hard then caught a ragged breath. She looked at him then away. “Tell you what?”

Anger spouted up inside him so suddenly that it shocked him. “Oh, stop it, Sadie. Your father’s dead. He’s been dead for weeks, hasn’t he? If anyone had told me you would do this, I’d have called him out. You are the last person on earth I would expect to lie to me, the very last.” He ignored the tears in her eyes. “I begged you to tell me what was wrong. Why, Sadie? Why couldn’t you trust me?”

She dashed tears from her eyes with one hand. “I wanted to, but I was so afraid.”

“Afraid of me?”

“We didn’t know you well, not at first. How could I tell if you were trustworthy? I’d only met you once.”

“Why should that matter? Sadie, I heard Zeke tell your neighbors your father was alive. What is going on? Why on earth would you try to hide his death? It makes no sense at all.”

She sobbed into her hand, turning partly away from him. “When he died, we had to bury him. Ordinarily we’d have sent for the preacher, but the reverend had left shortly before on his circuit. It would have taken Zeke a week or more to catch him. We couldn’t wait. It was so hot. We couldn’t wait.”

She was shaking, and Harry’s love for her struggled against the outrage he felt.

“Even so. . .”

“And then we got to worrying about the property. You see, my father had left his estate to Tenley, but with Tenley dead we weren’t sure what would happen to us.”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I. . .Zeke and Tallie and I aren’t sure whether I’ll be allowed to inherit the farm. Zeke recalled the Widow Scott. When her husband died, their farm went to his cousin’s son, and she was turned out. We didn’t know what would become of us if I lost the farm, and. . .well, when you came, Zeke said something about Papa, and you thought he meant. . .”

“You should have seen a lawyer.”

She shook her head hopelessly. “I don’t know any lawyers, Harry. I wouldn’t even know where to find one.” She looked off downriver. “Washington, maybe? There was no one within several days’ journey who could issue a death certificate.”

“What do your neighbors do when somebody dies? What did your father do when your mother died?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” She slumped against the low fence, holding on to the top rail and weeping.

“I can’t believe you lied about it. Just because you couldn’t get a doctor or a preacher—” Harry shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs. “I can’t believe you all conspired against me. Even Pax? I love that kid. How could he not spill it to me?”

Sadie winced. “Pax is very loyal to this family.”

“But Tallie. There’s not a dishonest bone in her body.”

“We were afraid, Harry. We wanted to tell you. Tallie has been distraught over this, but we were afraid.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“We didn’t know that then. Don’t you see? When you arrived, we thought it was just for a day, and Zeke thought it would be best to say nothing and let you assume Papa was ill. We didn’t know but what you’d tell someone, and the law would come and evict us all. But when you stayed and we got to know you, it was too late. We couldn’t tell anyone then that he was dead. How would that look? It just got worse and worse the longer you stayed, even though we were thankful you came, and we. . .grew to love you.” She hid her face then, sobbing uncontrollably.

“What you did was foolish, Sadie.” It came out more harshly than he’d intended, and she jerked her chin up.

“Don’t speak to me in that tone, sir, or I shall have to ask you to leave at once.”

He took a deep breath. “No need. I was just leaving anyway.”

He walked quickly over the knoll and through the orchard. The confusion in his mind was nearly as painful as the sorrow in his heart. He ought to be holding her in his arms this moment, but he couldn’t make himself turn back. She had lied to him, not once, but many times. He’d thought he knew her, but apparently not.

Pax was still holding Pepper near the water trough, and Zeke stood with him, anxiously watching Harry approach.

“Mr. Harry, everythin’ all right?” Zeke asked. Harry thought his grin was a little strained.

“Bring my saddle, please.” Harry clipped out the words, and he could tell by the way Zeke’s face fell that he knew the ruse was over.

“Yes, suh. Right away.” Zeke hurried into the barn, and Pax stood staring at Harry with wide eyes.

“You leavin’ us now, Mr. Harry?”

“Yes, Pax.”

They stood in uneasy silence until Zeke came from the barn carrying Pepper’s tack.

Zeke kept his eyes lowered. “Please don’t go off in a tear, Mr. Harry. It started out all innocent. We didn’t mean to—”

“Zeke, I’ve lived with you for more than a fortnight. We’re as close as brothers, or so I thought. But you still don’t trust me.” Harry seized the saddle blanket and tossed it onto Pepper’s back. Pepper snorted and sidestepped, and Harry placed his hand on the gelding’s shoulder. “Easy now.” If he didn’t calm himself, Pepper would fidget all morning. He smoothed the blanket then gently settled the saddle over the withers.

“Just tell me, who buried Oliver?”

Zeke sniffed and kicked at a pebble. “I did, suh. I dug the grave. Then we all. . . It was hard for Miss Sadie, suh, but I made a box in the barn here, and we. . .we said some words and sung the doxology.”

“You couldn’t have got a few neighbors together to give him a respectful funeral?” Harry made himself stand still and breathe deeply. His anger was resurfacing.

Zeke glanced at Pax then said quietly, “We was afraid what would happen to Miss Sadie if people found out he was gone, suh.”

“So Sadie told me. Did you expect to hide it forever?”

Zeke had no answer. He and Pax watched in silence as Harry tightened the cinch strap. He took the halter off Pepper and handed it to Pax then slipped the bridle over Pepper’s ears. The bit slid into the horse’s mouth, and Harry worked at the buckle. Pax stood twisting the lead rope in his hands.

“Mr. Harry, don’t leave like this,” Zeke pleaded.

“Oh, sure. I ought to go into the kitchen and have breakfast first with you all.” Harry’s laugh was bitter.

Zeke shook his head, and his shoulders drooped. “It’s just a pity you came when you did.”

Harry refused to consider that remark. He needed to get away from this oppressive place. Without another word, he mounted and pushed Pepper into an extended trot.

❧

Sadie stumbled up the path to the dooryard. Zeke stood with his back to her, watching as Harry’s horse trotted down the lane.

“Zeke,” she called, and he turned toward her.

“Miss Sadie!”

“He knows, Zeke. Harry knows everything.”

“I’m sorry—truly I am.” His shoulders slumped. “I wanted to help you, Miss Sadie. When your pa died, I only wanted to protect you.”

“I know.” She put her hand to her forehead. “I’m so tired. I’m sure things will look better when we’ve had breakfast.”

Zeke leaped to her side. “Let me take you inside. You need to sit.”

She took his arm, and they turned toward the house. She could almost read her faithful servant’s thoughts. Once again he had failed her. All his efforts to shield her from the consequences of her father’s death had come to nothing. Perhaps he’d even hoped that he and Tallie had found a husband for her, a man who would love her and protect her from the legal entanglements brought on by this tragedy, a man they could serve with contentment and pride.

Suddenly Pax raced up from behind them. “Pa! Mr. Harry done forgot his mares! Let me go after him.” He would have run for the barn, but Zeke grabbed the back of his shirt and held him in place.

“Pa, we gotta catch him. Let me ride after him.” Pax squirmed out of Zeke’s hold and turned to face him.

Zeke shook his head. “Let him go, boy. This ain’t over.”

“But them mares! He paid for ’em.”

Zeke nodded with a grim smile. “ ’Zactly. Mr. Harry needs to put some distance between us and him for a while, but he’ll be back.”

“I’m not so sure,” Sadie said.

“Oh, he’ll be back,” Zeke insisted. “Meanwhile, we’ll be prayin’ that things will turn out right.”

“Was he right about us lying, Pa? You said it wasn’t lying.”

Zeke sighed. “I been wrong about things before, son. Now you go and put Mr. Harry’s mares out to grass for today then come for breakfast. I’ll see Miss Sadie inside.”

Sadie knew Zeke would catch it from Tallie as soon as she found out what had happened. She was certain he would rather stay down at the barn with Pax and let her break the news to his wife. But he held on to her firmly and squared his shoulders as they approached the lean-to.

“It’s gonna be all right, Miss Sadie,” he said just before opening the kitchen door for her.

“God will help us through this.” She brushed away a tear, wondering if she could face Tallie without weeping.

Zeke nodded. “I’m powerful sorry I caused all this.”

“It wasn’t you. It was all of us. I should have known better. That first day, I should have told him everything and let whatever happened happen.” She gulped for air and wiped her eyes again.

“I expect my wife will be hoppin’ mad when Mr. Harry don’t come to eat her special breakfast.”

“I’m not sure I can eat, Zeke. Perhaps I’ll go in the front door and up to my room.”

Zeke sniffed. “I be very, very sorry, Miss Sadie.”

She knew she couldn’t leave him alone to broach the subject with Tallie.