He shrugged and told her of the call he’d paid that morning. “I was so angry I’m not sure what I said.” He clearly recalled Creighton’s presence in the room, but kept that to himself. For now. “I believe she got the message, regardless of what I said.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Jewel looked up and silently studied the face of the man she loved, and who remarkably loved her in return. Cecile still loomed like a dark cloud, but Eli’s love made the sun shine. “So, can we go back to having fun?”
“Yes. I’d like that.” He traced her lips lazily. “I’ve missed you.”
She whispered. “I missed you, too. And once you heal up and stop looking like a demon spirit from the underworld, I plan to show you how much. I’ll even put on one of those gowns, just so you can take it off.”
“And buttons?”
She smiled remembering the promise she’d made to him yesterday right before Cecile’s visit sent everything sideways. “I’ll open as many buttons as you like.”
Loving his familiar countenance even if it was crooked and battered, a content Jewel Grayson placed a soft kiss on her husband’s bruised cheek and went into the kitchen to rewarm the cloth.
The cold rainy weather held the Grove in a dreary grip for the next few days. Even though the calendar showed it to be late May, the temperatures were more reminiscent of April—early April. Being Michigan residents, though, the people were accustomed to the changeable weather, and so dressed accordingly and went about their business.
The mud hindered progress on the house, but the work was proceeding and Adam was convinced it would be ready to be occupied in another two weeks. Jewel couldn’t wait. She spent those days helping at the house, seeing to pest-infested roses, and riding all over the Grove to deliver used clothing and other donated items to those in need of them on behalf of the Female Intelligence Society. Eli spent his days and some of his nights getting the office ready for the printing presses he and G.W. were looking forward to receiving, and polishing his editorial.
Jewel came home one evening and found him seated at the kitchen table scribbling away. After offering her a welcoming smile, he handed her the draft he’d been working on. “Read this if you would, and let me know what you think.”
“Okay.” Taking a seat on his lap, she read silently.
How long must the Colored voter wait to enjoy the fruits of the Constitution promised to all? We compose no insignificant portion of the Republican Party, yet our needs are not only not brought forward, but are universally ignored. This is a government of the People, a commonwealth of equals, and no one party, race, or class can claim to have a God-given right to govern. The voter of color has been used, nay abused by those elected to speak on its behalf. The Lily White Republicans stand and do nothing while on the other side of the rivers of blood flowing through the south stand the Democrats, and among them men determined that we vote Democrat or not vote at all, preferably from the grave. What has happened to liberty, what has happened to the promises wrung by the thousands of black souls who gave their lives in order to aid this Perfect Union’s need during the war. We protest the arrogance that would demand a return to the past, an arrogance that can be seen as the country turns away from the slaughter and disenfranchisement taking place under our very noses while offering up the nonsensical separate but equal. There are those in the national press who say we should be grateful. For what may I ask? I quote David Walker’s Appeal to the Coloured Citizens of the World and ask again, are we to give thanks for our ancestors being chained and handcuffed? Or maybe for the brandings or having fire crammed down our throats? Surely we must be grateful for slavery and being kept in ignorance and misery. This editor is not, nor will he ever be until the freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution apply to one and All!
Jewel handed the paper back to Eli. “This is very good.”
“It’s not the final version, but it is close.”
“When will it be printed?”
“Soon as I think it says all that it should and hand it over to G.W.”
“Do you think the country will ever do right by the race?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to be optimistic in the face of all that is happening.”
She thought about the killing and violence in the South; the people burned out of their homes; the teachers tortured; the parents lynched and murdered in front of their children. It was hard to be optimistic. “Pa is convinced that in the future members of the race will be elected regularly to national offices and may even be nominated for president.”
“To be alive to see that,” he said wistfully. Eli couldn’t imagine such a thing, but he could.
“It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” She kissed his cheek. “Keep holding the country’s feet to the flame and who knows, maybe one of us will run for president. A female perhaps.”
The male in Eli shuddered. “You’ll have to get the vote first.”
“A minor detail,” she told him leaving him to go back to work. “A minor detail.”
The next morning, Jewel rode into town to see if the paint she’d ordered for the house had arrived at Miss Edna’s store. The home she and Eli were to share was all but finished and now needed paint to give it character. On the way down the walk, she paused to stick her head into the Lending Library.
Maddie waved her in. “I want to talk to you.”
“Let me go to the store first. Do you want me to bring back coffee for you?”
Maddie left the box of books she was readying to send to one of the fledgling Black colleges down south and came to the door. “No, I’ll go with you.”
On their way, they spotted Cecile up ahead. She’d just stepped out of the seamstress shop and was wearing a blue gown that was way too fancy for the Grove, and a matching hat.
When they drew even to her, she drawled cynically, “Well, if it isn’t the little bride and the whore.”
“Burn in hell, Cecile,” Jewel tossed out, not breaking stride.
Once they were by the stunned woman, Maddie grinned. “I liked that.”
Cecile must have recovered because she called out, “Send Eli my love. Tell him I’ll be waiting in the moonlight.”
Jewel wasn’t impressed and hollered. “Poor comeback!”
Maddie eyes filled with humor. “That’s what happens when you have your brains between your legs.”
Jewel burst out laughing and continued all the way to the store.
They were back at the Lending Library drinking coffee and getting caught up with what had been going on with each other when Jewel asked over her cup, “So. How are you and G.W. getting along?”
“He is the nicest man. Wants me to marry him. I already said yes.”
Jewel spit coffee across the table, and began to choke on the portion that had been going down her throat.
A chuckling Maddie slapped her friend on the back a few times, “Are you all right?”
Still choking, Jewel thought she’d die if she didn’t stop soon. Shooting Maddie a smiling look, she finally regained control of her breathing and then wheezed out, “You said yes?”
“Soon as he asked. Of course when I told him the story of my life, he did what you just did. I thought he’d keel over then and there, but he didn’t. I told him why I’d done what I’d done, and where and how I lived. In the end, he said, he didn’t care.”
Jewel thought that good news.
Maddie’s voice softened. “I’d heard women talk of meeting a man they seemed to have been waiting for their entire lives, and that’s how I feel about him.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I truly am.”
“Has he been married before?”
“Yes. Late wife died of pneumonia about ten years ago. They didn’t have children and it was an arranged marriage. Not a love match.”
“Do the dogs like him?”
“Not particularly, and he doesn’t much care for them either, but I’m not giving them up and I’m not giving him up
, so they’re going to have to learn to coexist. What about you and Eli? I saw him yesterday after he confronted Cecile. He didn’t look very happy.”
“He wasn’t.” She told Maddie the story of why.
“And Cecile had the nerve to say that to you just now? ‘Tell him I’ll be waiting for him in the moonlight,’” she mimicked. “You should have knocked her into the mud.”
“Maybe next time.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Jewel was grateful to have such a supportive friend. “He and I are fine now.” And they were. Jewel couldn’t remember being so happy. “I’ve decided there’ll be no divorce.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Can’t divorce a man I’m in love with.”
“Do tell?”
Jewel met the humor in Maddie’s eyes. “He’s in love with me, too.”
“Funny how things work out, isn’t it.”
Jewel agreed. Everything had worked out. “I couldn’t ask for a finer man.”
Maddie raised her cup. “To love.”
Jewel raised hers, too. “To love.”
Chapter 14
Two weeks later, on a beautiful early June afternoon, the cleared grounds around the Graysons’ new house were filled with people come to celebrate the finished product. The newlyweds would be moving in that day and their guests had been invited to witness the long awaited event.
As with all Grove gatherings, there was food, fun, horseshoes, and gossip swirling around Cecile. Word was, now that G.W. was no longer footing the bill for her room at the Quilt Ladies’ boardinghouse, she’d been forced to move out, and was now the houseguest of Reverend Anderson, of all people. His wife, Ida, a friend of Gail’s and Edna’s was not happy.
But Jewel was in too good a mood to let musings on Cecile intrude on one of the happiest days of her life, so when she heard some of the women whispering that the reason Cecile was at the reverend’s place was because Lenore Wilson refused to have the father’s paramour set foot in the Wilson home, she politely excused herself from the table holding the food and walked the short distance to the house.
Seeing it all spruced up with its green paint on the wood and creamy white gingerbread trim made her smile. On the big front sitting porch sat the gleaming rocker she’d built, seemingly waiting for her to come and sit and watch the sunset over the bluff.
Her father walked up beside her and for a moment the two filled their eyes with the spanking new home.
“It’s beautiful, Pa. Thank you.”
“Nothing but the best for my best girl.”
She snaked an arm around his ample waist and hugged. “Eli and I are hoping to spend the rest of our years here.”
“No divorce?”
“No, Pa. I love him and he loves me.”
“Well, hot damn.”
She grinned in response. “Are you ready for grandchildren? Not that I’m expecting yet, but maybe soon.”
He turned and looked into her face. “Your mother would be so proud of you, Jewel. You filled her shoes and then stepped into your own. The boys and I will always be grateful for the way you took care of us.”
His praise put the sting of tears in her eyes. “You provided the home, Pa. I just kept it picked up.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Be happy, my Jewel.”
“I am, Pa. I really and truly am. Thanks again for the house.”
“You’re welcome. We’ll add more rooms next spring. If you’re talking about grandchildren, you’ll need them.”
He headed off to return to the main celebration and left her standing there gazing contentedly at her new home.
The highlight of the gathering was the Opening of the Door. A large ribbon with a big bow was tacked across the front entrance. Jewel and Eli would cut the ribbon together and officially take possession, but first they had people to thank.
Eli stepped up first. Looking out at the smiling faces of families and friends, he felt his heart swell. “I’m not really sure what to say, “he said, hoping his voice was loud enough to be heard. “I know I want to say thank you to everybody who helped with the building, especially Adam and my brothers-in-law. This is very special to me. At one time in my life, I wasn’t worthy of so many blessings”—he looked at Jewel with unabashed love in his eyes—“but God is good,” he whispered over the lump in his throat.
Men nodded solemnly. Women dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs. Abigail had tears running down her cheeks, and Adam slipped his arm around her waist and squeezed her gently. Standing next to them were a gleaming Maddie and G.W. Hicks.
Jewel, as grateful as her husband for her own blessings, gave her thanks as well. “To my Pa, my brothers, and everybody who worked. To Abigail and Maddie.” She turned to Eli, “And to the former Colored Casanova of Cass County….”
Everybody laughed at the emphasis she’d placed on the word former.
“Thank you, Eli, for making me the wife of one of the finest men in the country. “
Affection glowing, he took her hand. He looked back out at the crowd and asked his mother, “Do you have the shears?”
Abigail, aided by her cane, stepped forward and handed them over. Eli passed them to Jewel. He placed his hand atop hers and together they cut the big blue ribbon in half. It fluttered down, freeing the door while cheers and applause greeted the official opening of the new home belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Eli Grayson.
Later, sitting on her husband’s lap on a blanket spread out on the bluff so they could watch the fiery sunset, Jewel said, “This was a wonderful day.”
“That it was.”
“Liked your speech.”
“Spoken from the heart.”
“I think I’m going to go into our new house, wash up in my new washroom—with indoor shower.”
He jostled her at the jab.
“And then find something very sultry to wear that my husband will enjoy removing.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like your husband’s in for a good time.”
“So is his wife.”
Fresh from her shower, Jewel picked out the gown she wanted. Drawing it on and looking at herself in the mirror via the soft light of the turned-down lamp, she was instantly embarrassed, but that soon gave way to a smile The lace-edged white gown with its strategically placed ribbons was guaranteed to please, and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Granted, Eli would probably make certain she didn’t have the gown on for very long, but wasn’t that the whole purpose?
That aforementioned purpose fueled her steps as she left the bedroom to seek him out. Tonight she planned to give as good as she got and more, because she wanted this first coming together in their new home to be as sensual as it was memorable.
Eli was outside on the porch looking up at the stars when she stepped out to join him. He turned. Upon seeing her in the thin white silk and the way it shone under the shadowy moon, all he could say was, “Oh, my.”
His manhood instantaneously throbbed to life. The breezy night air played with the edges of the silk just enough to offer him teasing flashes of her skin, alerting him to the fact that his prim little jewel didn’t have a stitch on underneath. The realization made him hard as the wooden banister he was holding on to. “Nope,” he told her with a mesmerized shake of his head, his voice certain. “You’re not going to have that on very long at all—but long enough…”
Pleased, Jewel eased closer and he leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “You smell sweet,” he whispered.
She was already spiraling and they were just getting started. His hand was moving over her silk-covered breast, the nipple already hard. “I like the gown.”
Jewel liked it, too especially the way his hands were sliding it up and down, and over and around.
“Like this little ribbon, too.”
The thin silk ribbon positioned beneath her breasts was the gown’s only closure. He undid it without a word, then eased his warm palms inside to cup her hips and bring her flush agai
nst the strength of his desire. “I hope you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, sweetheart, because I’m planning on making love to you until dawn.”
His mouth found her breasts and she drew in a shuddering breath. The hand playing a sweet night song between her thighs was expert and bold. Because he was so scandalous and made her so shameless, she widened her stance so he could make her senses sing. And they did; arias, cadenzas, soprano, and descant. By the time he knelt in front of her, his bold touch plying her, she was already in the beginning throes of the orgasm. “You’re very wet, Jewel.”
Braced against the banister, legs spread to receive his caresses, Jewel was in another world, one where she didn’t care how she looked or what anyone thought of what she and this wantonly gifted man were doing. All she knew was that she was his, and because she was, he drew her forward and worshipped at the gates of her soul with a lingering, red-hot devotion until she was reduced to a strangled scream.
He picked her up and took her into the house. The little death had her arching and twisting and riding the waves as he carried her to their bed. She didn’t remember being lain down, but when he entered her so magnificently she moaned with pleasure and greedily raised her hips to feast on all he had to give.
“Lord, woman!” he growled unable to do anything but stroke. Her sweet body fueled him faster and faster. There’d be time for dallying next round, the male in him reasoned. Right then, he couldn’t have slowed if there’d been a gun to his head. She was too tight, too delicious, too tantalizing. If forced to stop he’d explode. He exploded anyway. The orgasm was staggering and he clutched her hips roughly while he stroked and roared, and stroked and roared.
In the silence that followed they could hear the call of insects through the open windows. The room was pitch-dark and they lay smiling next to each other on the bed.
“I guess you were pretty eager.”
He turned his head her way. He could barely make out her face in the darkness, but he knew she was looking at him, too. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Not in the least.”