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Moonwitch

Page 63

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Eyeing Kyle’s raised fist in terror, Whitfield swallowed hard and nodded. When Kyle released the factor’s lapel, he stumbled away. When he was halfway across the yard, though, he turned.

“I was just doin’ my duty,” he insisted in a shaking voice. “The Scriptures say to cast the unprofitable servant into outer darkness—”

Kyle took a threatening step and Whitfield broke into a run, glancing once over his shoulder as if to make sure he wasn’t being pursued. Kyle watched him go, his expression, his entire stance reflecting the same contempt and anger that had filled Selena.

The ensuing silence was heavy with tension, and Selena was the first to break it. “Are you all right?” she asked the girl, her own voice trembling.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, the girl nodded. “Yes’um.”

Saul hunkered down beside her. “You sure, Lukey?” he said gently, examining the wounds the lash had made. “You ain’t gonna have our baby right here, are you?”

Selena understood then why Saul had risked his life to protect the girl. Yet seeing the tenderness of his expression, she suspected he would have done the same even if Lukey hadn’t been carrying his child.

“Those cuts should be tended,” Selena said softly.

Saul nodded. “I’ll see to it.” He helped Lukey to her feet, then turned to Selena. “Me an’ Lukey thank you for what you done, missy. You, too, Massa Ramsey.”

“I hardly deserve your thanks,” Kyle said grimly. “It seems my action was long overdue.” Moving over to where Selena was still sitting on the ground, he reached down a hand to help her rise. “Are you all right?” he queried, his brows drawn together with concern as she struggled to her feet. He stood there gazing down at her, his hands resting gently on her arms.

The tenderness in his eyes took Selena’s breath away, preventing her from answering at once. Kyle was looking at her as Saul had looked at Lukey—in a way that made her feel wanted, cherished. For a moment the rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was only the wonderful light in his eyes that made her hope that they truly had a future together, with children and laughter and love.

The thought flooded her with warmth. Hesitantly, her hand crept to her abdomen. Kyle’s child. Her heart started beating faster.

But the moment was only fleeting, for Kyle frowned. “Selena? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she replied finally. Kyle was protecting her the way he would his sisters… or any woman, for that matter. “Whitfield didn’t hurt me.”

But despite her assurances, she was grateful for Kyle’s support. Her knees were shaking from outrage at Whitfield’s brutality and her own dislike of violence.

She clung to Kyle’s arm as she glanced around the yard. There were two dozen slaves looking on, all of them watching her and Kyle. Their shock had turned to approval; she could see it on their faces. They soon began dispersing to return to their chores, but not before Selena realized with instincts honed by long experience that she and Kyle had passed a critical test.

“Do you need me to carry you into the house?” Kyle’s concerned voice broke through her intent thoughts.

Selena glanced up at him, a faint flush on her cheeks at the thought of everyone watching Kyle parade her through the yard the way he had at the Natchez landing. “No, I can manage.” Realizing she was still clinging to his arm, she quickly drew her hands back. “That was wise of you to dismiss Whitfield,” she said, flustered.

His mouth creased in a wry grin. “He wasn’t the best of factors, I can see that now. That was what you were trying to tell me this morning, wasn’t it?”

“I had my suspicions. And I wanted to speak with you about another matter concerning Whitfield, but it can wait till tomorrow…at breakfast…” Her voice trailed off as she waited to see what Kyle thought of that suggestion. Perhaps she was being presumptuous, thinking he might want to spend time each morning with her. But they needed to discuss the workings of the plantation, particularly since he was now without a factor. And there was much they could accomplish if only they could work together.

Kyle surprised her by reaching up to brush her cheek with a gentle finger. “Till tomorrow morning, then.”

There it was again, that tender light in his eyes. Selena felt her pulse quicken. “Perhaps…you had better go find your horse,” she murmured somewhat breathlessly.

“Yes.” But he didn’t move. His gaze dropped to her mouth, while his voice lowered to a caress. “Moonwitch, you were wonderful just now.”

She wanted to reply that no, he was the one who had been wonderful for rescuing them, but the way Kyle was looking at her made it difficult to remember her name, let alone what she had been about to say.

He moved closer. Selena caught her breath, holding it as Kyle bent to give her a brief, light kiss on the lips. It was the kind of intimate, companionable gesture a man might give his wife before taking leave of her, and it stunned her.

She stood there long after he was gone, her fingers held to her lips, wondering if there might be more to his feelings for her than simple chivalry, after all.

The next few days proved that her instincts concerning the incident in the yard had been correct. Word spread like wildfire among the field hands about the beating Whitfield had suffered, and to a man, they went out of their way to show their endorsement of the factor’s dismissal. Kyle further earned their respect by returning each craftsman to his respective trade and abandoning the acres Whitfield had overplanted. With Selena’s help, he also set up a system whereby every slave could have his grievances heard, and he resumed the work schedule the plantation had used before Whitfield changed it—which meant shorter hours and a rest period during the hottest part of the day.

In addition to Selena’s tutelage in these matters, Kyle had superior help and advice from another source. Saul’s brother, Rufus, was the head driver, and because of Kyle’s intervention, Rufus became determined to see the new master succeed. Even Rufus was taken aback, however, when Kyle stripped to his waist and joined the field hands in pruning cotton shrubs. He wanted, Kyle explained, to see just how hard the work really was.

When Selena heard from Martha about Kyle’s exploits in the cotton fields, she smiled in relief. She had always known her husband wasn’t like the genteel planters of her acquaintance—gentlemen who were afraid to dirty their hands—but it eased her mind to see Kyle throwing his whole heart into the work. She had been worried about how he would fare, for without an overseer, even the best of plantations could quickly go to ruin. Yet Kyle had his people behind him now. Even as inexperienced as he was, his management of the plantation would likely be a success. And as she listened to Martha praise the new master, Selena began to feel more optimistic. Given time, perhaps her marriage to Kyle might eventually become a success, too. That optimism was buoyed by her growing friendship with Kyle’s sisters. Selena felt she was making progress with Felicity and Zoe especially, but she entertained hopes of gaining even Lydia’s confidence.

And then, several days after the Whitfield incident, Selena’s optimism about her future with Kyle was shattered. She was working at her desk one morning when Martha announced that a female visitor had come calling on Master Ramsey.



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