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TRISTAN got up from the bed and limped to the bedroom door where the mouthwatering aroma from the kitchen was stronger. The pain from the bear attack and the bullet wound in his thigh ached, causing his body to scream in protest but he was too hungry to care.
He steadied himself in the doorway and looked out into the kitchen where Caleb stood over the stove with a fork. The food in the pan sizzled as Caleb moved it around.
“Hungry?” Caleb asked.
Tristan didn’t answer. The hate he felt for Caleb was so thick he could feel it in his throat but he wasn’t capable of doing anything about it now. Caleb did something to his ears while he was unconscious, making it difficult to hear. And Caleb injected him with some drug. What the injection was, he didn’t know. He just knew that after the injection, he felt invigorated, almost brand new, yet still sore.
Caleb looked over his shoulder at Tristan briefly before turning back to the stove. He pulled two plates from the cabinet and filled them with food then placed them on the table.
Tristan took a step out of his room but hesitated then quickly stepped back. After his last escape attempt, Caleb jailed him in his room.
“I extended your perimeter.”
Tristan was starving but he took his time as he made his way to the table. He didn’t want Caleb seeing him limp and he definitely didn’t want to fall like he had minutes ago in the bathroom. For some reason, he was getting weaker and he really didn’t want Caleb to know.
Tristan sat with a stifled grunt, picked up the fork, then started eating. His plate was clean when he raised his head and noticed Caleb watching him with that impassive creepy stare of his.
God, I hate that fucking stare.
He knew now how Cianne felt about his own stoic looks. Only, he had nothing on Caleb. The man’s lack of emotion coupled with his deadly skills were a lethal combo.
After a few moments of that uncomfortable death stare, Tristan grunted, “What?”
Caleb said nothing. He just slid his untouched plate across the table.
Tristan hesitated but in the end his hunger won over. “Thanks.” He ate slower this time. When he was done, he glanced up at Caleb before sitting up straight and taking a drink from his glass. “Did you check on my family?”
Tristan placed the glass on the table. He hated to ask his captor for this but he had no other way of knowing. Plus, he needed to talk. Being cooped up in that small room for over month with no conversation was taking its toll.
“No,” Caleb said. He held up an odd-looking bullet. “I’ve been looking for the person who made this.”
Somehow, Tristan knew that it was the bullet that hit him, but before he could say anything a wave of dizziness hit him.
***
CALEB inspected Tristan’s face. “Are you experiencing any weakness?”
He saw the answer in Tristan’s eyes briefly before the kid was able to shake it off. Tristan needed to learn how to hide his weaknesses better, Caleb decided.
Something else I must teach him, he thought.
Tristan’s expression suddenly grew angry. “You need to go check on them.”
“I can’t. Cianne will attack and I may inadvertently harm her.” Caleb stood up, grabbed the empty plates, and walked over to the sink.
“Can you blame her?” Tristan asked him. “It’s not like you’re making all the right moves.”
Caleb glared over his shoulder at Tristan. The little bastard had no idea what moves he made for his daughter. “Everything I do is for Cianne.”
Tristan frowned at that, or he grimaced. Caleb wasn’t certain if the look was due to pain or because he didn’t agree.
“Like letting her think I’m dead? That’s going to get you the father of the year award. Do you even know what love is? I bet you don’t—”
Before Tristan was able to complete his comment, Caleb leaped across the room and grabbed him by the throat. He watched Tristan gasp for breath as he held him high in the air. Tristan’s flailing feet kicked over the chair he was seated on seconds earlier. He dug at Caleb’s hand for relief.
“I don’t know what you’ve read about me in those books they gave you and I don’t care. So, we’re going to start off with a clean slate, you and I. Get to know each other.” Caleb tilted his head as he watched Tristan’s eyes roll. He loosened his grip so Tristan didn’t pass out. He wanted to make sure everything he said was heard loud and clear. “A few things about me...I don’t answer to anyone. I don’t play with my kills and I don’t like it when people think they know what or how I feel.” Caleb was impressed that there was no hint of fear in Tristan’s blue eyes that angrily stared back at him. “Please try to stay on my good side, son. My intent is to keep you alive and return you to your family. The state you’re in when I return you will depend solely on you.” Tristan tried to speak but only managed to squeeze out a few muffled words so Caleb dropped him to his feet.
Tristan clutched the edge of the dining table, bent over and coughed several times, before righting the chair and dropping into to it. Caleb sat down and watched as Tristan rubbed his throat.
“Actually,” Tristan said calmly, “there isn’t much written about you in the Annals.”
Caleb shrugged.
“So, what’s your story then?” Tristan asked then took a sip of water, but he grimaced when he swallowed.
“Why would I tell you my story?” Caleb asked.
“You just said we need to get to know one another. Besides, you have no books, no television, and no games here. You claim you want to keep me alive but I’ll be dead of boredom in another day or so.” Tristan leaned forward. “Haven’t you ever wanted to tell your version of things?”
Caleb thought over it. To tell his story to anyone would be a first. To tell it to Tristan...well, it might allow the boy to understand his actions better. Caleb didn’t really care how Tristan felt about him but if the kid knew his path, it might prove that they aren’t so different.
Caleb sensed it the first time he saw Tristan. He and the boy had the same unruly spirit. It was that same spirit that most likely attracted the Source and what made Caleb what he is today.
Yeah, he thought, Tristan needs to know how close to the edge he actually is.
“Alright,” Caleb said, “but for my life story, you will act civil, take your injections without question and...allow me to train you.”
Tristan frowned. “What’s in the needle?”
“It’s keeping you alive,” Caleb said with no inflection of tone or emotion. “That’s all you need to know for now.”
It contained a special mix Bannerman made specifically to keep the poison, Death’s Door, closed. The injection was effective for at least three weeks, then the poison would start wreaking havoc again. Without it, Tristan would experience weakness, pain, bleeding, and then death within days.
“I’ll take the injections for now,” Tristan said. He got up, went to the fridge and pushed the lever for shaved ice to fall into his glass. When he returned to his seat he rolled the cold glass over the red hand print on his throat. “You can train me too. I’ll prove to you that I’m not as weak as you think I am. The sooner you’re convinced I can handle whatever comes at my family, the sooner I’ll be home.”
“The terms are agreeable,” Caleb said.
“Alright,” Tristan said. He placed the glass on the table then leaned forward. “My schedule is clear, so...”
Caleb shook his head at Tristan’s impatience but said, “I should start when my life really began. My mother was sixteen when she married my father, Fredrick Scott. He was twenty-seven and the son of a wealthy southern landowner who died and left everything he owned to his only child. I’m not sure if my parents were in love but I do know that they respected one another. Love, to most in that time, wasn’t a condition to marry, security was.
“My mother, a gentle and beautiful woman, wanted her children to have what she referred to as a civilized gentleman’s education so she sent my brother and me abroad to stay with her relatives. We were never told why she wanted us to return to the Americas and we never asked. Though it felt as if I was leaving the family I had grown to love behind. But my brother and I left London with our father without a word of defiance.
“When my brother and I left Maiden Hall as boys, construction was underway. It was the largest of my father’s three plantations and he wanted the house to be grand. A place my mother could be proud of and to show off his wealth. My brother Fredrick, named after my father, was eleven. I was nine when I last set eyes on my home. We returned as men.
“Maiden Hall was an enormous and magnificent plantation with slave cabins to house a large sum of slaves, houses for the overseers’ and their families, a smokehouse, barns, stables, silos and gardens. There was also a small school house and a chapel on the property. In the center, surrounded by flowers, trees, and a beautiful green lawn was Maiden Mansion. For Fredrick, it didn’t compare to the elegance of London but to me, a young man full of dreams, Maiden Hall was amazing.
“I suppose my tale really begins on the night of our return. It was late and we were tired from the journey so our father decided that we would stay at the neighboring plantation for the night. I could not sleep. Restless, I suppose, or maybe I was excited to see the places from my childhood I scarcely remembered. Whatever the reason, I crept out of my offered room and saddled my horse. It didn’t take long for me to reach the lake that split the two properties. It was one of the few things I remembered enjoying before leaving home.
I found my favorite tree, a large live oak with branches that were low and spread wide. I climbed it and easily fell asleep in the comfort of the southern night air. I slept peacefully until I heard some splashing in the lake beneath me. It was a colored girl and she was the loveliest creature my eyes had ever seen. Her smooth skin, which instantly reminded me of the color of toasted wheat, shimmered as the moon’s bright light illuminated the water that moved over her.
“Her eyes were round, with the darkest lashes and brows that made their brown color seem lighter, richer. Her long nose, full lips, and high cheek bones were perfectly proportioned for one so delicate. In my day, people referred to mixed race people as mulatto and I’d seen a few by that time. All her features and that midnight black hair put me in the mind of a mixture of Mediterranean and African descent. Whatever she was didn’t faze me. All I knew was that she was breathtaking.
“I wasn’t sure why I didn’t say anything to her, to let her know that I was there. Instead I sat in that tree, my tree, frozen. I watched her gracefully swim in my lake like it was where she belonged. It didn’t take long for me to imagine myself in the water with her. That I could feel her coal black hair cascade over my fingers as the small glistening streams of water drained from it and down my arm. That she would look at me with the same wonder and curiosity I looked at her with. At fifteen I was not innocent and hadn’t been for some time. But this girl, she made me regret all my indiscretions.
“Time stopped for me as I sat in that tree fully content with just watching her. But I knew that light of day would be coming soon. I also knew that she wasn’t supposed to be in the lake, and that if she were discovered she would be punished. I, like my mother, disliked violence, especially the kind that was inflicted on slaves. I didn’t want my homecoming scarred with this beautiful creature’s blood so...I threw an acorn into the water to alert her of the time.”
Maiden Hall Plantation
Mid-Summer of 1821
The water was warm and soothing, giving Marda a false sense of security. It made her feel like she once had, before she was brought across the ocean to this place she could never embrace as her home.
For five years, she remained a captive.
The lake was the only thing she could enjoy, secretly of course. Time spent in the lake behind the great house allowed her to imagine she was home. If only for a moment.
The quiet calm that swept over Marda when she was completely submerged under the cool water felt amazing on her aching muscles. The way the ripples on the surface caressed her skin, it was as if her mother was touching her. Easing her fears over the vast distance in which they were separated.
The lake was what kept her sane.
Marda knew there would be consequences for breaking the Mistress’ rules. It was the one rule the Mistress wanted them to abide above all others.
“Don’t leave the house unless you are accompanied by another.” The Mistress’ gentle words replayed in Marda’s head.
If she was caught, the punishment would not fit the offense. No, it would be severe and painful.
“I cannot keep you safe if you disobey the rules.”
Marda cleared her mind and relaxed her muscles, allowing the water to swallow her. Soon she wouldn’t be able to sneak out in the late of night to take a dip in the lake. Mr. Scott, her Mistress’ husband, was returning in a few weeks.
She’d heard hushed talk of him from the others. They said Mr. Scott isn’t as kind as Miss Catherine. They said he was the one responsible for hiring Shaw, the hateful overseer who mistreated the slaves who work in the fields.
If he likes Shaw, then Mr. Scott can’t be nice.
Marda didn’t care for Shaw or the way he watched her the few times their paths crossed. She was told by Tempie, the head house slave, to stay clear of Shaw. Marda did her best to avoid him at all cost. She also followed all the rules.
Except...
Swimming was the only thing she had ever done that the Mistress would be angry about. If she was caught disobeying the rules she had no doubt that Shaw would be the one tying her to the large whipping oak to deal her fifty lashes. The devious smile he kept on his face flashed in her mind. The thought, a frightening one, almost caused her to breathe underwater. She rose to the surface, gasping until she was able to catch her breath.
Relax, Marda told herself. She enjoyed the pond over a hundred times and hadn’t been caught yet. Plus, tonight was special. Today was the anniversary of her thirteenth dry season or year and swimming was her way of celebrating. Being whipped if she was caught would be worth it. Besides, she wouldn’t stay out too long.
At least that’s what she told herself two hours ago when she stripped down and got into the water.
Marda lowered her head under the water again and rose up slowly. Her loosely braided hair unraveled and was cascading over her face. She raised her hands up out of the water and smoothed her tresses away from her eyes so that she could see the night sky. The moon’s position told her that time had gotten away from her.
Marda decided it was time to swim in so she looked around the shore line to make sure she was still alone. She moved to swim to shore but stopped when she heard something hit the water a few inches in front of her. Marda didn’t see what hit the water, but she saw the ripples the impact caused.
Frightened, Marda turned and waded in a complete circle to find the source. Maybe it was some animal, she told herself, not finding the source. It’s nothing. With wide eyes, Marda strained to see in the dark lit by moonlight. It’s nothing, she convinced herself.
Something hit the water again; this time it landed right beside her. Only, Marda saw the direction it came from before the spray of water from the impact splashed over her. She followed the arc the object took.
To her shock, she saw a dark form of something...no...someone in one of the towering trees. The person was stretched out on a thick branch several feet away, watching her.
“The sun will rise soon and I’m certain you don’t want to be discovered out here.”
The unfamiliar voice sounded different from the people on the plantation. His pronunciation was sharper, and his tone was kind, but it left no allowance to question. Only, he sounded young. But there was no way to tell his age from his outlined form in the darkness.
Marda didn’t say a word as she swam for the shore. Climbing out of the water, she pulled her clothing over her nakedness in a frantic rush. Not once did she look back as she ran toward the main house. Her heart raced as she opened and closed the cellar door as quietly as she could and went to her pallet in the corner.
She waited for the sound of footsteps above her as she lay in a protective ball. Marda cringed at the thought of the leather whip that would slash into her back like it had for so many other slaves before her. Her hands will be shackled to the big oak near the cabins for everyone to see. That was the rule, everyone had to see.
Marda waited.
The next morning
Marda glanced at Jai before putting the scrub brush in the bucket and pushing off her knees to stand. The Mistress called for them. Marda didn’t tell Jai about her late-night swimming or that she’d been caught.
Her head ached as they walked side by side through the house to the dining room. But unlike Jai, Marda was sick with fear, and she kept her eyes on her feet. When Jai and Marda entered the room where the Mistress waited, Marda glanced up then looked back at her feet.
“I so hoped we had more time to prepare for your homecoming, Fredrick,” Catherine said to a tall man. Catherine turned to regard them, then said, “Ready the boys’ rooms right away.”
“Father wanted to travel before the heat set in.”
Marda heard the man’s name when she entered. She knew that Fredrick, at seventeen years, was the eldest of two sons and the spitting image of a man she saw earlier that morning walking through the halls. That man must have been Master Fredrick, the Mistress’ husband.
“Yes’m,” Jai said as she took Marda’s hand and hurried out of the dining room. “You take the Young Master’s room; I’ll do Master Fredrick’s.”
Marda slowly walked to the room of her Mistress’ youngest son as she wondered when her world would be turned upside down. When would the stranger tattle? The not knowing was stressful.
She pushed open the bedroom door and straight away started picking up scattered clothing off the floor. When Marda heard someone clear their throat, she scrambled back into the door, unwittingly closing it and shutting herself inside with the newcomer. With her gaze to the floor she spun around to open the door.
Open, she thought as she fumbled with the knob.
“Wait.”
Marda knew that smooth deep voice. It was the same voice from last night. She stopped trying to open the door but was too afraid to turn and look at the face of the person who’d caught her naked in the lake the night before. When she heard movement behind her, Marda’s heart almost stopped. Footsteps told her he was closing the distance between them. Marda pivoted and soon saw his booted feet beside her.
“Do you speak?” he asked her.
Marda didn’t answer.
“You needn’t be afraid of me. I just want to give you this.”
Marda closed her eyes tight as she felt his warm hand touch hers. She tried pulling her hand away but he caught her by the wrist then he placed a piece of cloth in her hand. Marda opened her eyes and looked at her hand. She saw her head wrap.
“You left this,” he said softly.
Marda looked up slowly, focusing on the crisp white shirt he wore. She continued to raise her head until she was staring at the young man who was holding her hand so gently. His hair resembled the warm golden sand that she once felt between her toes when she was a young girl. It was unruly but perfectly so, flipping up at the ends to almost cover his ears while the front brushed the top of his brows. His face looked young and innocent but he had a strong chin and cheek bones. His skin was sun kissed and his lips, the top thinner than the fuller bottom, looked swollen.
Maybe he bit his lips like I often do.
He was the most beautiful thing she ever saw. He looked nothing like his brother, who was also quite handsome. No, this boy resembled Mistress Catherine and he had her most mesmerizing feature.
“Caleb,” a husky, authoritative voice echoed up from the first floor.
“I’ll be right there, sir,” the boy called out, but he continued to hold onto Marda’s hand.
They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds more. Then he lifted her hand to his lips, and before she could muster the strength to pull away, he kissed her hand then allowed it to slide from his. He smiled then stepped around her, opened his bedroom door, and left the room.
Sighing from relief that the encounter didn’t go the way she thought it would, and that she had her favorite head wrap back, Marda relaxed her tense stance. She went to work on cleaning the bedroom but couldn’t get the image of his smile or his eyes out of her head. In fact, her day was filled with thoughts of Caleb, and that made her heart race with anxious thumps.
Marda kept herself busy and out of sight so she wouldn’t be caught staring at him if their paths crossed again. But to her displeasure, he also kept out of sight. Caleb affected her in a way she couldn’t explain. Even as she fell asleep that night, a vision of his eyes calmed her homesick heart.
Caleb is 17 Marda is 15
Fall of 1823
Marda walked slowly down the dirt road toward the main house. The cool evening air moved around her body, chilling her to the bone. She straightened her covering over her shoulders and bunched it to her chest. The sun was low in the sky when she was sent from the main house by Tempie, with goods for Mistress Shaw.
It was dark out so her steps were quick. Rarely did she leave the house without someone accompanying her but everyone else was busy getting ready for some big dinner party her Mistress was hosting in a few days.
I should have parted ways sooner, Marda thought. When she arrived at Mistress Shaw’s home, the sweet mother of four younglings was overwhelmed even with her young colored girl’s help. So Marda stayed to help with things and now found herself in the dark with only a small candle to light her way.
She hummed a hymn in her head as she strolled along her way. Everyone on the plantation worked real hard, waking before dawn and retiring when it was too dark to see, so the path to the house was bare. Though alone, she was not afraid. She knew everyone.
As Marda moved closer to the stables, she heard a faint noise. Knowing that the animals were in the stable, she didn’t make much of the noise and kept on her way. It wasn’t until she was almost beyond the structure that she heard someone speak.
“Hey there, little colored girl.”
Marda stopped as Shaw stepped out of the shadows and in front of her. She took two steps back and immediately lowered her head. She tried to not to panic and kept calm by rubbing her apron hem. All the house slaves were warned to stay away from this overseer. She heard he was a hateful man who took pleasure in causing folk pain.
When Shaw grabbed for her, Marda attempted to retreat but he took hold of her forearm and pulled her into the dimly lit stable. The dirt and hay gathered at the front of her shoes as she tried to burrow her feet into the ground for leverage, but it was no use. He was stronger.
“Don’t fight me, you hear,” Shaw ordered, his mouth close to her ear. “Been waiting for my chance at you girl.”
Marda winced from the pain of his grip. She gagged at the smell of the day’s work all over him and the scent of drink on his breath.
“Had my eye on you for some time girl, but your misses keep you close.”
Shaw took Marda’s other wrist, ignoring her futile struggles, and slammed her body against the side wall of the building. He hiked her arms above her head, making it hard for her to look away.
She hadn’t looked directly in the face of the infamous Shaw since he purchased her on the block. He was unnervingly handsome with defined angles that gave him a high-born polished look. Wet and oily blonde hair fell down the sides of his face and to his shoulders. The gray eyes that stared hungrily at her were soulless and dead.
“Now hold still. I got something special for you. Something you gone like.”
Shaw kissed down her neck, leaving warm saliva behind. He coupled her wrists in one hand and pulled up her dress and caressed her thigh with the other. Marda whimpered as she fought to turn her head away, just managing to squeeze her head to the side giving him access to her jaw.
He licked her skin just below her ear.
Scared and still reeling from the shock of being dragged into the stable by Shaw, Marda found it difficult to think clearly. For a moment, her mind shut down, but the ache from her arms being held over her head brought her mind racing back to the hell she was experiencing.
Shaw had her balancing barely on the tips of her toes, unable to gain any footing. His hand searched desperately for the edges of her undergarments.
Tears rolled down Marda’s face as she struggled in vain, understanding that this was to be her fate. She closed her eyes and hoped that after he took her innocence that he’d take her life.
“Sir please, the misses sent me to fetch her. We are expected.”
Marda’s eyes sprang open as hope filled her. Jai!
Shaw whipped his head around, but didn’t let go of her. He looked Jai over as she stood behind him. Marda also noticed a small stable boy hiding behind Jai.
Did the boy go after Jai?
Shaw smiled a wicked smile and let out a chuckle that spoke volumes. Marda knew he would make the stable boy pay for fetching Jai. She cringed knowing what the boy would endure, but by the way Shaw looked, she worried more for what he planned to do to her and Jai.
“Have not seen you both together since I bought you from the block. Come here, girl.”
***
CALEB walked into the stables with Winter, his beloved stallion, not expecting the gathering of people. It didn’t take him long to figure out that he interrupted something. Jai, his mother’s slave, looked frightened but determined. He followed her gaze over to Shaw, who was grinning, then to Marda whose face was strained with pain. There was also a stable boy present, who cowered behind Jai’s skirt.
“What’s going on here?” Caleb asked Shaw, but his gaze fell on Marda.
For the first time, her tear-filled gaze fell directly on him, her eyes pleading for his help. He blinked as his gaze moved from Marda’s eyes down to her exposed thigh. A storm of anger brewed inside him when he saw Shaw’s hand caressing her there.
“What is going on here, Shaw?” Caleb demanded. This time his voice was filled with anger and his eyes narrowed. He grew angrier when he realized that it was under these circumstances that Marda finally looked him in the eyes, again. Not because she wanted to see him but only because she was scared of Shaw and what he wanted to do to her.
This wasn’t the way he wanted it to be. Since returning to Maiden Hall, Caleb felt an unfamiliar pull to the beautiful girl he found swimming in the lake behind his house. But she never met his gaze or spoke, even when given permission. A frown seemed all she was capable.
“Nothing going on, yet.” Shaw then raked his gaze over Marda in a way that made Caleb’s stomach churn. “Get the young master’s horse, boy,” Shaw told the stable boy without taking his eyes off Marda, “so he can retire.”
Caleb fisted his hand around the reigns he forgot he held.
Shaw was important to his father, but in Caleb’s mind there was no solid reasoning for slavery. That made it difficult for Caleb to acclimate to life on the plantation he was so excited to see. Unlike his brother Fredrick, who had an enthusiastic interest in the family business now, Caleb had no desire to be a planter and cared less for plantation life. He believed that everyone should be paid a fair wage, but people like Shaw loved the power slavery afforded them.
That disgusted Caleb.
Caleb looked down as the stable boy finally grabbed for Winter. He glanced at the frightened boy as he gave over his horse, knowing it was up to him to do something. With his mind made up, Caleb looked back at Jai, and in the most authoritative voice he could muster, he moved forward and said, “Jai, Marda get back to the house now!”
Shaw didn’t let go of Marda right away. Instead, he and Caleb stared at each other, one waiting for the other to fold. But Caleb stood his ground and refused to shy away. He barely held in his relief when Shaw slowly lowered Marda’s arms, allowing her feet to touch the ground. Once her feet were on the floor she hurried past Caleb and into Jai’s arms.
“Be seeing you now, girl.” Shaw’s smile was a warning.
Marda hid her face in Jai’s chest, but Caleb saw the way her body shuddered at Shaw’s threat. Caleb buried the need to comfort her and motioned for them to get. He watched as the two hurried out of the stable and up the dirt path, holding tightly to each other, never looking back.
Once their silhouettes faded into the darkness of night, Caleb turned to face Shaw. He could hear the stable boy settling Winter, but he kept his attention on the overseer.
Shaw rolled his shoulders then chuckled as he lazily walked by Caleb, toward the entrance of the stable. “You think no one see the way you look at that colored mute.”
Caleb’s eyes grew big.
Shaw’s smile widened as he raised his hands in defense. “It’s alright. I get it, you want her for yourself. A man got his needs. She young and ripe made for hard work and pleasure, you know.”
Caleb felt disgust and panic wash over him as he stared at Shaw. The man had a reputation as an effective overseer, and was sought after by many planters before coming to Maiden Hall. But Shaw was also known for his cruelty and lust. It was rumored that Shaw had over a dozen children on different plantations, but his wife, Mary, had only birthed four. The other children are said to be born of slaves.
“She’s different, that one is. The other coloreds see it too, and it ain’t just cause she easy to look at.” Shaw cleared his throat then spit on the ground, close to Caleb’s foot. His wicked eyes focused only on Caleb. “She walks around like she’s some kind of royalty, ya know.”
Caleb didn’t look away, wanting to show he wasn’t afraid.
“Ever wonder what it sounds like when a mute scream?” Shaw kicked up hay with his foot before turning around and walking slowly out of the stable.
Caleb only relaxed when Shaw was gone. He unclenched his fists, feeling the half-moon impression on his palms. He wasn’t certain how he felt about Marda. She intrigued him in ways he was unable to express, but he was sure of one thing. Shaw wasn’t getting his hands on her. Ever.
For weeks, Caleb pondered over what Shaw said to him in the stables that night. If what he felt for Marda was written all over his face, then he needed to be careful. From then on, every interaction was short, if he interacted with her at all.
In an attempt to free his mind of Marda, Caleb avoided her. He spent his free time away from Maiden Hall visiting John Scott, kin of his father, who owned a shop in town. He told himself that after the incident in the stables, Marda wouldn’t venture far from the safety of the main house again.
Three months later.
Marda worked as fast as she could to hang the clothing she and Jai twisted free of water on the drying racks. It was early eve and light was still left in the day, and the wash house wasn’t far from the main house, but ever since that night in the stables...
Well, Marda didn’t like being outside the house when it was dark out. Or any other time, for that matter.
With chilled fingers, she pinned a garment then plucked another from the pile.
When done with her task, Marda gathered the dry clothes in her basket then hurried out of the small structure only to stop in her tracks. Shaw was propped against the fence post. Jai stood in front of him, but Shaw still saw Marda. When her wide eyes met his slanted gaze, he smiled then winked.
Marda hesitated. His awareness of her fear of him was apparent by the slow smile that spread across his face but she squared her shoulders, hiked the basket higher on her hip, then walked along the path that would lead her past him. When she was a few feet from him, Shaw pushed off the post and stood directly in her path. Marda slowed. She glanced at Jai who looked just as scared.
Shaw reached for her apron, but Jai grabbed his hand.
No...
But there was no stopping him. Marda cringed as Shaw’s hand rose then came down hard across Jai’s delicate face. The blow made Jai stumble sideways. Marda dropped the basket and grabbed Jai by the arm. Dazed, Jai supported herself on Marda for a split second before straightening herself and pushing Marda away.
“Go back to the manor,” Jai ordered. Her tone was never harsh, until today.
Marda didn’t move. She just stared at Jai, confused. There was no one around. Why didn’t Jai use her ability to hurt him? She could, so, why didn’t she?
Instead of punishing him, Jai pushed Marda, causing her to lose her footing. She fell to the ground. Shocked, Marda looked up at her. Jai’s lip bled and swelled where Shaw hit her but her face didn’t reflect pain. It was determination Marda saw.
“Go now,” Jai said again.
Marda pushed to her feet. Shaw didn’t try to stop her when she stumbled away. She looked back as she hastened up the path. On Jai’s face she could see fear and anger but when their eyes met, Marda also saw a hint of relief.
