Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

Suddenly, Alex lost his balance, and to keep from stumbling and perhaps falling off the wharf, he grabbed the nearest thing to steady himself, which was Bianca’s dress. The fabric tore away at the seam of the high waist, leaving a long, gaping hole.

“You nasty little beast!” Bianca said, and before anyone could speak, she slapped Alex hard across the face.

The little boy balanced on the edge of the wharf, his arms twirling for a moment before he fell backward into the river. Nicole was into the water past her ankles before Alex came up the first time. He grinned at her look of fright and swam ashore. “Uncle Clay says you shouldn’t swim with your shoes on,” he said as he sat on the bank and began to unbuckle his. He nodded at Nicole, still standing in the water, her shoes soaked.

Nicole smiled at him and stepped back onto the dry land. Her heart was still pounding from the fright of seeing the boy fall.

While Janie’s and Nicole’s attention was on Alex, Mandy looked at the big woman beside her. She didn’t like anyone who’d strike her brother. She took a step closer to Bianca and dug her little heels into the dock. She gave one good, hard push at Bianca and then stepped back quickly.

Everyone turned at Bianca’s little squeal of fear. She fell almost as if she were in slow motion. Her lack of strength and muscle tone made her especially helpless. Her fat little hands clawed at the air.

When she hit the water, the splash threatened to flood the wharf. Mandy was drenched. She turned, the front of her dress soaked, water dripping off her eyelashes and nose, and smiled in triumph at her brother. Janie started laughing again.

“Stop it, all of you,” Nicole commanded, but her voice was shaky with suppressed laughter. Bianca had looked so funny when she fell. Nicole walked to the other side of the wharf, and the others followed her. Bianca rose slowly out of the water. It was barely knee deep, but she’d gone completely under when she fell. Her blonde hair was straggling in thin, straight bits about her face. The curls she’d so carefully created with a hot iron were gone. The water plastered the thin cotton of her dress to her, and she may as well have been nude. She’d gained more weight than Nicole had realized. Her thighs and hips were so fat they were lumpy. She had a roll of fat around her middle where her waist should have been.

“She is fat!” Alex said, his eyes wide in wonder.

“Don’t just stand there, get me out of here!” Bianca demanded. “My feet are caught in mud.”

“I think I’d better get the men,” Janie said. “The two of us aren’t strong enough to pull in a whale.”

“Hush! All of you!” Nicole said, then went to the rowboat to pick up an oar. “She doesn’t like men. Here, Bianca, grab this, and Janie and I will pull you out.”

Janie dutifully grabbed one end of the oar. “If you ask me, that woman only likes herself, and she doesn’t like her that much.”

It took some doing on the women’s part to get Bianca out of the mud. She wasn’t very strong, in spite of her size. When she was standing on the shore, Roger appeared out of the trees, where he’d obviously been for some time. His eyes were twinkling in delight as he helped Bianca into the rowboat and rowed her back across the river.

Chapter 9

CLAY WAS BENT OVER THE OLD TREE STUMP, FASTENING chains around its long, deep roots when the lone rider approached. In another hour, the sun would be down. He’d been working since long before sunup. He was tired and his body ached thoroughly, not just from today’s work but from several days of work without stop.

When the chains were finally secured around the log, he hooked them onto the big percheron’s collar. The massive feet of the horse dug into the ground, mud and bits of grass flying as it obeyed Clay’s commands to pull. Slowly, the log began to come out of the ground.

Clay took a long axe and hacked at the thin tendons that held the large stump in the ground. When it was finally free, Clay led the horse and the dragging stump to the edge of the newly cleared field. When he had the chains detached and was rolling them on the ground, the man spoke.

“Good work! I haven’t enjoyed a show so much since I saw some dancers in Philadelphia. Of course, they had better legs than you.”

Clay looked up sharply, then slowly he began to grin. “Wesley! I haven’t seen you in ages. Did you and Travis get your tobacco in already?”

Wes Stanford stood up and stretched. He wasn’t a tall man like Clay, but he was powerfully built, with a deep, thick chest and heavily muscled thighs. He had thick brown hair and very dark eyes, which laughed often. He shrugged. “You know Travis. He knows he can run the world by himself. I just thought I’d let him manage a part of it alone.”

“You two quarreling again?”

Wesley grinned. “Travis would tell the devil how to run Hell.”

“And no doubt the devil would obey him.”

The two men looked at each other and laughed. Their friendship had grown over the many years they’d been neighbors. They’d been drawn to each other because they were both younger brothers. Clay had always stood in the shadow of James, while Wesley had to deal with Travis. Many times, Clay had been thankful for James whenever he was around Travis. He didn’t envy Wes for having such a brother.

“What are you doing out here clearing your own fields?” Wes asked. “Did all your men leave you?”

“Worse,” he said, removed his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face. “I’ve got problems with women.”

“Ah,” Wes smiled. “Now, that’s a problem I could deal with. Anything you’d like to talk about? I brought a jug, and I’ve got all night.”

Clay sat down on the ground, his back to a tree, and accepted the jug of corn liquor from Wes, who sat down beside him. “When I think of what’s happened to my life in the last few months, I don’t know how I’ve lived through it.”

“Remember that summer that was so dry, and three of your tobacco barns burned and half your cows died?” Wes asked. “How does it compare to that?”