"I'd love to," Harriet agreed at once, glad to see the sparkle back in Tyler's big cinnamon-brown eyes.

  "We could walk there, since it's such a beautiful day. If we cut through the woods near the slave quarters like Gray and I did, it won't be tiring at all."

  "I'd prefer you to take the phaeton," Gray interjected. "The walk is longer than you remember, and you'll have baskets to carry."

  "Of course; you're right. We'll leave after breakfast, as soon as we can gather things together."

  Gray lowered his cup to the saucer, glancing at Charles. "Since the ladies have plans, why don't you accompany Ben and me into Natchez? I have several telegraph messages to send, as well as some business at the bank."

  "Sounds fine," Charles answered.

  "Have any of Rose Point's people applied for employment?" Tyler asked.

  "Not yet," Gray answered gently, recognizing the hope in her voice. "But maybe they will, in time. We put out the advertisements only a couple of weeks ago."

  In truth, however, Gray wasn't the least bit surprised. After they had endured the cruelties of a narrow-minded and tyrannical master like Colin MacKenzie, he was certain that most of the man's former slaves had fled far away from Rose Point and its evil memories.

  As Tyler related a story to Harriet about Ben Rainey's small son, he wondered yet again how she could be so completely blind to her father's true character. He hoped she would soon realize that her memories of MacKenzie were distorted. He'd told her enough to plant the seed of doubt in her mind. Perhaps she would eventually accept reality.

  His jaw tensed as he envisioned the pain she would suffer when she did find out how mean and vicious her father had been. How had MacKenzie managed to hide his malicious character from her? Or had he changed drastically after Tyler's birth? Gray couldn't believe that—not the Colin MacKenzie who had callously beaten him and then tossed a bag of coins at his feet. Gray's face went livid, and he fought for self-control before he said or did something else to hurt Tyler. He would not drive her away from him again. But the raw emotions raging inside him took their toll. Once more he knew he had to get out of Colin MacKenzie's house before it destroyed him.

  "I don't mean to rush you, Charles, but I should get into town early," he said abruptly, scraping back his chair. "I think I heard Ben's wagon a moment ago."

  At once Charles laid his napkin aside. "That's quite all right. I'm finished."

  Tyler blushed with pleasure as Gray leaned down to press a light kiss on her cheek, his lips raising all kinds of quivers.

  "Take care today," he told her. "We'll be back in time for dinner."

  Long before noon, Tyler and Harriet were ensconced in the brand-new, single-seat phaeton which Gray had ordered from New Orleans, the awning folded down so the large picnic hampers could fit behind the red-cushioned squabs. Tyler had ordered enough food prepared for the young family to last them a week. She had been delighted to include several bolts of pastel blue flannel she had discovered in one of the sewing chests. Bess would be able to make dozens of garments for her two sons from the soft fabric.

  As they drove along, Tyler felt wonderful. She was reconciled with her handsome husband and in the company of her dearest friend. She handled the reins herself, though Gray had hired two young Negro drivers.

  She glanced at Harriet, very pleased she had taken her friend's counsel last night, and even more grateful that Harriet had not mentioned their talk again. She remained in a quandary about her feelings for Gray and for Rose Point. There were so many emotions she had to deal with, but at the moment, she didn't want to worry about them. Today she intended to forget all the fears and problems plaguing her. She wanted to smile, and be happy, pretend everything was all right.

  The phaeton rolled smoothly along, and they reached Township Line Road very soon. As they drove beneath the tall pine trees that shaded Ben Rainey's house, Tyler stared in amazement at the transformation of the rickety structure. Gray had indeed been generous with his carpenter's service, she thought with pride, surveying the newly shingled roof and fresh coat of whitewash on the walls. The porch had been rebuilt with broad steps and sturdy vertical posts. Even the small shed at the side of the yard had been braced up and repainted. It was difficult to imagine Gray, Stone, and Carlisle being raised in such a wretched place as it had been before the repairs. They all seemed born to wealth and fine things—as she had been.

  "Gray is very kind, Harriet. Did you know that?" she said, halting the buggy near the front porch.

  "I'm beginning to admire him more and more," Harriet replied as she lifted her skirts and stepped down to the ground. She looked at Tyler. "You're lucky to have been forced to marry him."

  Tyler flitted a quick glance at her, then laughed at Harriet's knowing smile.

  "Baba, baba," warbled a tiny voice.

  Both women turned and found an excited child standing in the open front door.

  "What a little sweetheart you are!" Harriet crooned, climbing to the porch and lifting the toddler into her arms. "Oh, Tyler, he's just the age of poor little Cole. And he has the same curly hair."

  Tyler's heart twisted when she heard the pain in her friend's voice, remembering how Harriet's frail grandson had looked in those days before he died of consumption. Tyler could also recall her own anger and frustration as she'd watched an innocent baby suffer and die before his life had really begun.

  As Harriet snuggled the giggling boy, Tyler shook off her morose thoughts. Someday it would be Tyler's child whom Harriet would kiss and cuddle, she thought, her heart warming. Harriet and Charles could take the place of the grandparents her own children would never have.

  Lifting down the hampers, Tyler joined Harriet on the stoop and knocked softly on the door. Bess's voice drifted to them from inside, and as they entered the one-room house, they saw a worn patchwork quilt had been hung to separate the bed area from the cookstove and an old, scarred kitchen table. Tyler put down the baskets, tiptoeing closer and pulling back the makeshift curtain. Bess lay in bed, her newborn son in her arms.

  "He's beautiful," Tyler whispered. Wonderingly, she reached out and touched the babe. The infant immediately clutched her forefinger with his tiny fingers.

  "Why, you're a strong little thing," she said as Harriet came up behind her. She still carried Jake, who had apparently recognized at once Harriet's grandmotherly attributes. He held her tightly around the neck, his curly head resting contentedly on her shoulder.

  "Bess, this is my dearest friend, Harriet Bond. We've brought you some food and several bolts of flannel for baby clothes."

  "Thank you kindly," Bess answered softly. "I weren't really expectin' nothin', but I sure be obliged. Ben, he been takin' good care of us since the midwife went back home. I'm feelin' a mite weaker than I did with Jake, but I mean to get up soon. Can I fetch you cider or something?"

  "Oh, no, you shouldn't get up! Not yet!" Harriet interjected quickly, then blushed at herself for barking orders to a complete stranger. "I mean, with two little ones, you need to gather your strength. When I had my boys, I was sometimes abed for a week."

  "You have sons, too?" Bess asked.

  Harriet smoothed Jake's tousled curls. "Four, all grown to manhood. They were killed in the war."

  "I'm very sorry, ma'am. I lost my two brothers, too. At Shiloh." Bess's eyes clouded, and she gazed at each of her sons in turn as if already fearing some future conflict that might take them from her.

  Tyler smiled as the baby stretched his tiny mouth into a huge yawn. "Do you think I could hold him? Just for a minute?"

  "Yes. He's a good 'un. He ain't cried much neither."

  Tyler bent, terrified as she carefully took the tightly wrapped bundle from its mother. Never before had she held a newborn infant. She knew nothing about babies.

  Bess chuckled at the way Tyler cradled the child gingerly in her arms as if afraid he'd break. "We named him Kincaid, ma'am, after your husband." When Tyler looked up in surprise, she went on shyly. "Mr. Kincaid's been like an angel come down to help us. You saw all he done to the house, ain't you? And he got those men to build this here bed for the birthing. We was usin' a pallet over there by the stove, and he just say nobody ought to have to sleep on the floor." She hesitated, her face earnest. "We just don't know how to rightly thank you and him, missus, 'cept that Ben's gonna do his most to make the crops yield high for Mr. Kincaid."

  "My husband is very kind," Tyler said for the second time that day. She looked at Harriet, expecting to be teased, but Harriet was already busy unpacking the hampers. She still held Jake in one arm and was mesmerizing him with the most extraordinary baby talk.

  "If you want, I'll rock Kincaid for a while so you can rest," Tyler offered, not yet ready to give up the baby.

  Bess nodded. Despite her talk of rising, she appeared exhausted. Tyler crossed the room and sat in an old, cane-seated rocker. The baby gurgled and squirmed, kicking and fussing inside the confines of his swaddling blankets.

  Tyler lay him on his back on her lap, then carefully unfolded the blanket so she could admire his ten diminutive toes. Tender longings swept her as she sat there, entranced by the newborn child. She hoped she would conceive soon. She had never thought much about bearing children until the past few weeks, but now the idea took hold of her. She rewrapped the quilt snugly and shifted little Kincaid to her arm, content to hold him while Harriet finished putting away the food.

  After a time, when Bess succumbed to a much-needed sleep, Harriet carried Jake outside so as not to disturb his mother. Tyler could hear her laughing at the child's play, and, lulled by the sounds of the rickety rocker, she leaned her head back and day-dreamed about the time she and Gray would have children. Their sons and daughters would laugh and play in the halls of Rose Point, and their happy voices would drive away the gloom and bad memories hovering in those elegant rooms.

  As she cuddled the tiny, helpless human being, she realized with some awe what a tremendous responsibility she would face as a mother. Parenting would very likely be as frightening as it would be gratifying, because she and Gray would have to teach their children all they needed to know to survive in a hard, unfair world. But she knew Gray would be a good father, just as he was a good husband.

  Not long after Harriet had gone into the yard, Tyler became conscious of a man's voice outside. She stood at once, hoping Gray and Ben had come back early. She wanted Gray to see the baby. Carefully laying Kincaid in a wicker basket which Harriet had lined with flannel, she moved quietly to the door.

  "There's someone out here, Tyler," Harriet said from the portal, Jake still clinging possessively to her neck. "He's asking for you."

  "For me? Who is it?"

  "He didn't say," Harriet answered, standing aside with the child as Tyler stepped out onto the porch.

  A tall Negro stood beside the phaeton, nervously twisting an ancient palm-leaf hat in his hands. Tyler stepped down to the ground, looking at him questioningly.

  "I'm Tyler Kincaid. Did you want to see me?"

  "Be you missus of the new master of Rose Point?"

  "Yes, I am. Nothing's happened to Gray, has it?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.

  "No, missus. I done saw de paper 'bout hirin' on de old workers at Rose Point. De man who read it to me say you be Master Colin's girl."

  "Why, yes, I am," Tyler answered, excitement blossoming inside her. "Are you one of our people?"

  "Yes, missus. I be Grady, Mammy Rose Marie's boy."

  "Mammy?" Tyler gasped out the word, then glanced around. "Is she here? Can I see her?"

  "Yes, missus. Dat be why I's here to fetch you. She be wantin' you to come see her afore she go to de Lord."

  "She's ill?"

  "She be nearly all de way blind now, missus. And she ain't well 'tall. But when she heards dat you come back to de old place, she talk 'bout nuthin' but you."

  "Where is she?"

  "Just down de road a spell, at my place. I walked it just now to fetch you."

  "Of course I'll go to her. Maybe she can help me convince Gray about Papa."

  The colored man only looked at her, but Tyler turned around as Harriet spoke from where she'd been listening to their conversation on the porch.

  "Now wait, Tyler. I'm not sure we should just go flying off with this man. Bess is still asleep. Why don't you wait until the menfolk get back and let Gray take you to see her?"

  "No, it's all right, truly, Etty. Mammy Rose Marie was my nurse when I was a baby. She took care of me after Mother died. I must go to her, especially if she's ill. You stay here with Bess and the babies, and I'll come back for you in an hour or so, I promise."

  "I'm still not sure you should."

  "Don't worry."

  Harriet watched Tyler climb into the buggy with the big colored man. She felt uneasy, despite Tyler's reassurances, but just then the thin wail of little Kincaid Rainey erupted from inside the house. Harriet hurried to tend to his needs, thinking that Grady seemed like a nice, pleasant fellow. Tyler would surely be all right with him.

  20

  The deserted back road to which Grady directed Tyler was so overgrown that Tyler was forced to use both hands to control the reins. The light buggy dipped and swayed precariously, but Tyler barely noticed, so excited was she about seeing Mammy Rose Marie again. Many years had passed since the day her uncle Burl had forced her out of the arms of her dear old nurse. She glanced at the man beside her, estimating him to be in his late forties.

  "I'm sorry, Grady, but I can't remember your face. Were you at Rose Point when Mammy took care of me?"

  "Yes, missus. I wust just a field boy then. I neber came upwards to de big house."

  "I see." She wished she had the hat she'd left at the Raineys' house. Squinting from the sun's glare, she peered down the road. "Is it much farther now?"

  "No, missus. Just upwards to a mile."

  They rode in silence for a few yards, but there were dozens of questions rolling around in Tyler's head.

  "Has Mammy fared well since I left, Grady? I didn't want to leave her, you must believe that. I cried my heart out, but my uncle wouldn't let me bring her with us. Has she ever told you about the day I left?"

  "Yes, missus. After we wust set free, she came to lib wid me and Lolly. Lolly be my woman. Mama been farin' poorly now. Her eyes all whited over now."

  "Did Lolly work for us, too?"

  "Yes, missus. She tended the cow pen." He suddenly pointed his finger. "Dar's my place, dar in de pines."

  Tyler transferred her gaze to the house in the distance, and as they drew near the tar-paper shack, she saw that it was shabby and crudely constructed. Inside a makeshift wire fence, dozens of chickens pecked and scratched around the front yard. Two girls sat on a broken cracker barrel while three other children played catch with a big pinecone. Several black-and-tan hounds lazed in the sun.

  "Dos be my chiller," Grady told Tyler proudly as he climbed down. He removed his hat, then respectfully held out his hand to assist her.

  "Mammy'll be eat up wid happy when she finds you be come see her." Grady grinned widely as he helped her to the ground.

  Tyler lifted her full skirts, eagerly following him through the clucking, scattering chickens to the front stoop. When Grady opened the door and stood back, Tyler entered the house. The smell of bacon fat hung heavy in the air, and the room was so dim that it took a moment for Tyler's eyes to adjust to the gloom. Then she saw where a lean-to addition had been built against the back of the house.

  Grady led her to the blanket-draped doorway, and behind the partition, Tyler found a young black woman tending Mammy Rose Marie, who sat propped with pillows in a bent willow rocking chair.

  "Mama?" Grady said, going to one knee beside his mother's chair. "Missus Tyler be heres. I went and gots her like I tole you."

  The old woman sat straighter, blindly holding out her hands in front of her.

  "Baby girl, baby girl, be dat really you my boy done fetched?"

  Tyler's heart lurched at the sound of her voice. She knelt before the woman who'd been like a mother to her. She caught hold of Mammy's frail, wrinkled hands.

  "Yes, Mammy, it's me. I've come back to see you." Her voice quivered. "I've missed you, Mammy. I thought about you so often. I even dream about you."

  "Oh, lawsy, sweet Jesus bein' so good to dis ole woman. I been askin' him to bring you back just one more time afore I's dies."

  "Don't say that, Mammy. You're not going to die." Tyler lifted Mammy's hand to her cheeks, tears welling as she gazed into eyes covered by a milky film. She bit her lip, remembering how black and lively they'd once been.

  Mammy Rose Marie groped the air in front of her until she found Tyler's face, her bony fingers sliding slowly over Tyler's soft, smooth skin.

  "You be a woman growed now, ain't you? I worried 'bout you all dese years, just like I worried 'bout yore mama afore she die." Her thin bottom lip trembled. "She brought me wid her from down dere in Cape Christian on de Gulf. Did you eber know 'bout dat? I took care of her 'til de day she die. You was just barely walkin' den. I look after you, chile, 'til dey came and gots you away from me. Oh, God in heaven, I wisht I could see dat purty face of yourn."

  A tear rolled from a sightless eye, and Tyler felt raw pain cut through her. She could not speak. She glanced over at Grady and Lolly, standing silently in the doorway.

  "Oh, Mammy, please don't cry," she begged, wiping at her own tears. "I'm here now, aren't I? I didn't think I would ever see you again."

  "I just wisht I could see my lil' white chile again. I 'member dat pur ty face, I 'member dos red-brown eyes of yourn. Purtiest lil' white chile in dis county, I always say dat to my boy dere. Ain't I say dat, boy?"

  Behind them, Grady murmured agreement, and Tyler squeezed Mammy's hands tighter.

  "I'm married, Mammy, to Gray Kincaid. He's the man who bought Rose Point after the war. He gave it back to me. It's mine now, and you can come there again if you want. You and Grady and all your family. Gray needs people for the house, and he'll give you wages. He'll pay you a lot of money to work for us."

 

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