Back to You, page 22
Thomas glanced back at the women. Shay held her stomach, tears falling down her face as the two girls tried to distract her.
“It’s not you, Miss Banks.” Thomas tried to reassure her. “Hiram’s temper flares when presented with such crimes. He feels he failed if one person is afflicted by a white man.”
Shay’s eyes pierced his, and what he saw behind them made his skin tighten with dread. Hiram had made an immeasurable mistake.
“That’s ridiculous. My baby will not be given the crimes of its father. And if Hiram can’t handle what I had to endure, then he can stay the fuck away from me.”
A woman gasped at Shay’s language and backed away, giving side glances until she disappeared through the crowd.
“I don’t believe that’s why he’s angry. Give him some time, and he will come around.”
At least, he had hoped so.
Chapter twenty-three
Emilia
The sky was pinking with the coming dawn, a cool breeze caressing us as we waited for Michael.
“I can’t believe he acted that way,” Shay said, still upset from Hiram’s reaction the day before.
“I know, but I think he was angrier at what they did, Shay. He wasn’t mad at you.”
“No, he was disgusted.” A tear ran down her cheek, and she wiped it away angrily. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”
“I’ll ask Michael if he has any news.” I put my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder as we watched the world come to life.
“We didn’t even get to see the fireworks,” she mumbled.
“Why didn’t ye?” Michael asked, startling us. We’d been looking in the direction of the sunrise as he seemingly materialized out of nowhere.
“No reason,” Shay said, staring at her lap, hiding her tears.
Michael grunted. “Here. For both of ye.”
He held out a small package wrapped in brown paper.
“What is it?” I asked, grabbing it as if it would bite me. I opened it slowly, expecting something gross, though I had no reason to think that.
“It looks like chocolate!” Shay said, grabbing it.
“Aye, I heard some people like it. My ma, with Maggie in her belly, she always craved this or that.” He shrugged, looking at the buildings around us. “We never had coin for treats, though. Thought ye might need something to get ye through the morning is all.”
“Isn’t it expensive?” I asked, looking at it as if it were gold.
“I know a man.” His blue eyes danced mischievously. “Ye don’t want it?”
Shay held it in her lap. “I do,” she mumbled, trying not to cry. “Why are you being so nice, though?”
“Well, if ye don’t want it, then I’ll—”
She snatched it away from his hand. “Thank you.”
His eyes lit up with amusement.
We both broke off a piece, shoving it into our mouths. It wasn’t sweet like I was expecting, but course and gritty. If Michael hadn’t been watching, I would have spit it out.
Shay sucked on her piece, savoring each second of it. I almost cringed watching her, but she seemed to enjoy it.
“How’d you know about the baby?” she asked Michael.
He shrugged. “That’s what usually happens, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He stared at her downturned face for a minute, eyes crinkled with an emotion I couldn’t place. I squinted at him, trying to figure out what his game was.
“Are ye lasses ready?” He backed away, tone sharp as he said, “We don’t have all day.”
Shay wrapped the chocolate quickly and stood up. “Ready.”
Michael drilled us relentlessly. He had me teach Shay blocks, ducks, and breaks to get out of specific holds. Michael used the excuse of me needing the practice, but I knew the asshole was avoiding touching her. It was undeniable when he would guide my hand a certain way and then turn around and snap at Shay, barking out orders about where to put hers. I could tell it was starting to wear on her, her resolve crumbling with the tightness of her jaw.
Shay’s frustration finally broke, tears falling down her face. “You don’t have to help me!” she snapped, turning towards him so quickly he caught her arms without thinking. He removed his hands as if burned. “I have enough people disgusted with me; I don’t need to deal with your disgust too.”
She ran up the stairs, stepping on the packaged chocolate, in her haste to get inside. When she was in, I snuck a glance at Michael. He was still staring at the door.
“I better go,” I said.
He looked at me, nodding, but said nothing.
I made it to the stairs, picked up the package—knowing she’d want it later—and then stopped with my hand on the door. It wasn’t my place to explain, but I felt a push to do so. “She had a bad day yesterday. She thinks everyone is disgusted by what happened to her. I know you’re the one who saved her. Saw her at her worst. Even though you only did it to get whatever it is out of Thomas, if you could just try to treat her normally—” I paused, thinking of all his assholery, and corrected, “—At least like how a woman should be treated. That’d mean the world to us.”
I looked back at Michael. He stared at the ground, running his hands through his hair. He reminded me so much of Thomas at that moment that my heart squeezed.
“I’m not,” he said and looked at me. Then, seeing the puzzlement on my face, he explained. “I’m not disgusted with her.”
“Then why wouldn’t you touch her?”
His jaw tightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I’m not sure I ever saw such despondency in someone’s eyes. “I cannot.”
“Why?”
Michael scowled, either refusing to answer me or not knowing why himself, and left me to pick up the pieces of my friend.
It wasn’t until he was gone that I remembered I needed to ask him if he had any word about my family.
As the weeks turned into months, my deal with Michael was coming to an end. I had kept my end of the bargain, but he strung me along, feeding me with excuses and small details that kept me put.
Kept me singing.
I knew I would have to set out on my own soon. At the same time, I felt a strong pull to stay there. Shay had picked up some of my shifts in the bakery, lightening my load considerably so that my long days became somewhat bearable. Though I was beginning to accept my new reality, I couldn’t live at Rose’s forever.
My moments with Thomas had stirred something inside me, pulling me towards him in ways I’d only felt marginally before. My feelings became intense, more foreign, and absolutely terrifying. As my mind told me to search for the ordinary, my heart constantly searched for the man who tilted my world upside down. I’d searched for him in the markets, the docks, and the saloons, wherever his green gaze might catch mine.
I told myself I didn’t want him to see me sing. That his absence was better. I didn’t need to be more attached to a man who would inevitably leave me. I’d been taught enough of that in my life. But each day, he never showed. And my soul crumbled a little with each passing moment, whispering that it was time to go.
Michael had noticed me searching one night and sat me down at the bar when I was taking a break.
“He won’t come,” he said.
“Who?” I played dumb, drinking my water as I glanced around at the men.
“Me thick skulled deartháir.”
“Why don’t you invite Shay?” I countered.
“Ye know ol’ Billy wouldn’t have her kind in our saloon.” Ever since the day he’d given us chocolate, Michael had become politer towards her. Not so much to give away any form of affection, but in small ways. His racist remarks dropped from his speech in her company, taking on a lighter tone that held more respect. He began training her, as he did me, no longer rebuking her at every misstep. He was strict, yet kind in ways that I never expected to see from him.
Michael slicked back his hair, an agitated tell I’d come to recognize.
“Are you going to tell me why you pretend to hate them?” I asked.
He looked up sharply. “I’m not. The feckin’ bastards take our jobs—”
“You don’t even apply for those kinds of jobs.”
He leaned elbows against the bar, staring at the barmaids weaving in and out of the men. His jaw ticked.
“Do you hate Shay? Because sometimes I think—”
“Enough,” he growled.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Live your life in miserable denial.”
He shot me a glare that would have sent me running months ago. Now I glared right back, waiting for him to respond.
Instead, he said something that sent my mind reeling. “He won’t come because ye’re a threat.”
I scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Michael sighed, his head falling back as if he had to give a lesson to a child. “Tommy had his path set. Always had. Ye’re a distraction that’d send his carefully laid path veering into a new road. He can’t afford to take ye on.”
I stood up, suddenly furious, angry tears brimming my eyes. “I’m not a threat!”
“You’re missing the point, deirfiúr.”
“No, I don’t think I am,” I said, too angry to ask him what that word meant. Obviously, I was a path that Thomas didn’t want to take. “And you’re a coward who won’t admit you have feelings for a black woman.”
Michael stood up so fast I stumbled backward, shocked by his expression. I had become too comfortable in his company, momentarily forgetting that he was a man who killed at the drop of a dime.
“If one of me men would have heard that, I’d have to slit your pretty throat,” he seethed, caging me against the bar with his arms. “Ye should get back up there and sing.”
Fear streaked through me, wondering if I should tell him my suspicions. I decided no good could come of it and did as I was told.
After that, I constantly reminded myself that Shay and I didn’t belong there. I needed to find a way home, back to my family and my real life—back to a time when Shay could raise her baby without as much fear.
As we fought our daily battles, the war raged on in Virginia. Then, only a couple weeks after we celebrated the Fourth of July, the First Battle of Bull Run took place. Stonewall and his confederates pushed the Union out of Manassas all the way back to D.C., proving to the rest of the nation that this wasn’t going to be a short war.
Shay and I stood frozen as we heard the news. Dread pooled in my stomach at what I knew would come as those around us seethed, vehemently proclaiming that the damnable rebels would pay.
Shay did what she could, helping others pack up and send supplies to our soldiers, but there wasn’t much more she could do other than that. Her belly was becoming more prominent, and she couldn’t hide it when it was frowned upon for a pregnant woman to be in public.
Hiram had come around, apologizing for his actions, but their relationship was grounded in friendship rather than a blossoming love. To my surprise, she was content with the new friendship and her role in aiding the men who needed it most.
A few weeks after the retreat of our Union troops, President Lincoln called for more soldiers to join their forces. So armies on both sides added to their manpower, quickly training them and sending them to the battlefield like well-oiled machines.
It wouldn’t be long before Thomas would join their ranks.
It was a cool, mid-September morning when Michael told me it was our last training session. His excuse was that I could defend myself well enough. I suspected something else. Or someone. And that woman had already stopped in August in fear of accidentally harming the baby. I was grateful that she’d learned enough to feel comfortable.
I wiped the sweat from my face, annoyed that he had sprung this upon me. “What did you find about my family?” I asked. “Are there any RomanI around or what? It’s obvious our deal is ending.”
“Oh, aye. They moved down south some twenty years ago.”
So, they left just after they sent me away. But why? He kept hiding his knives on his body as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me. “When did you find this out?” I fumed.
“Not long after we made the deal.”
My fists clenched as I resisted the urge to punch him. “Do you know where at down south? Why wouldn’t you tell me this?” These last couple of months, I thought we’d been getting along. Regret coiled in my chest. But, of course, he’d just been playing me. God, I was an idiot.
He shrugged and finally turned his hollow gaze toward me. “The tanner said they were a traveling group. Could be anywhere by now. I saw no need for ye to know when we still had a deal, aye?”
“But I could have been asking around!” I yelled, startling some birds that pecked at trash nearby. “You have no idea what you did.”
“If ye were smart, ye would have been asking around either way!”
My body jolted, stung by his words, as guilt bloomed low in my stomach. He was right. I should have been doing all I could to find them.
“Is everything all right?”
I turned around, surprised to find Shay and Rose standing on the back steps.
“He knew all along, Shay.” My body shook with anger.
“Knew what?” she asked sharply, glaring at Michael.
I told her what I’d learned.
“We trusted you.” She rubbed her face, trying to hide how affected she was by this.
Shay had grown close to Michael, though he remained remarkably aloof around her. It seemed the O’Connor men were hard to resist. Until now.
Shay dropped her hands and stared at him with so much betrayal written on her features that it made me physically sick, and Michael shifted on his feet.
All the color drained from Michael’s face when she returned to the bakery without another word. He took a step forward as if he was going to go after her.
“Get that boy outta here.” Rose snapped at me. “I don’t know what is going on, but it can’t be good if he’s involved.” She started down the stairs, a towel in her hands as if she was going to whip him with it. “I won’t have you messing with my girls.”
I turned toward him. “He was just leaving. Weren’t you, Michael?”
His back straightened. “I’ll see ye tonight.”
“Oh, I won’t be singing again.”
He stepped so close that I struggled to stand my ground. “Ye will be there. Ye’ve been making quite a profit for me, and the saloon has been full since ye arrived. Though I will be glad to finally get rid of ye, I don’t think Mr. Mead will be so understanding.”
I swayed as bile rose into my throat.
“Are you all right, honey?” Rose asked, coming up beside me as we watched Michael walk away. “Should I ask George to get some of the boys to deal with him?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.” This was my problem. They’d already done enough for me, I couldn’t ask them for anymore. “Just a misunderstanding. It will be okay.” I tried to smile, but could tell she didn’t believe me.
“C’mon,” she said, guiding me by the arm. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
Chapter twenty-four
Emilia
I’d been singing for over an hour when a woman walked through the door, keeping her head down as a ridiculous colossal hat covered her face. It was odd that a woman was here—primarily men and prostitutes frequented this type of saloon—and that she had on a shawl that covered her neck and arms. Even with the modesty of this time, it was extravagant for the lingering heat of the summer.
My eyes trailed her as she found a seat in the back, feeling a prickling sensation of familiarity. When the woman’s head disappeared behind the men in front of her, I focused on my music, momentarily forgetting about her as I did what I loved. Sadness washed over me as I thought how this would be the last time I’d sing. It seemed my regret of quitting outweighed Billy Mead’s threat, which was absolutely insane.
I told myself that I could sing at the pub when I returned. That doing what I loved didn’t have to be here. For some reason, that just made me sadder.
A man stood up and went to the bar instead of waiting for one of the barmaids. I turned away, flipping through the songbook Michael had given me a few months back, and reviewed one of the songs. I sipped some water when a commotion drew my attention to the back.
“Let go!” a familiar voice rang out, making my blood run cold. A man grabbed the woman and dragged her out of the seat by her arm. “Let me go!” When she tried to push him, her shawl fell from her shoulders, revealing dark skin and an all-too-familiar blue dress.
I glanced at Michael, hoping he’d stop the man, but he stood immobile, looking as if he’d just seen a ghost.
“Stop!” I yelled, afraid the man was being too rough with my pregnant friend. I descended the stage, trying to push through the men who now stood to watch what was happening. “Leave her alone!”
A man cursed, spewing out racist remarks. “What you think she’s doing here?”
I pushed my way through more men, grateful I didn’t have to hear the response. More men surrounded her now, pulling her by the arms as she looked around. She saw me, her eyes wild with fear, and stiffened. Shay didn’t have to say anything; I knew she was pleading for help. But then her face turned, eyes widening as a man shoved people out of the way to get to her.
When they saw who it was, time seemed to still.
“Let her go,” Michael rumbled.
“Mikey,” a man said, bewildered. “She can’t be in here.”
“She’s just trying to have a good time.” The greasy man to her right said, knocking her hat off to smell her hair. “Aren’t you, honey?”
He had a huge nose and a face scarred from a hard life. She cringed, pulling away from him. I pushed myself closer, ready to jump on one of them if they tried anything.
“Should we show her a good time out back?” said the man on the other side of her with a chuckle.
