Yellow Wife(72)

Abbie met me at the back door. “You gotta do somethin’.”

I staggered down the steps and dragged myself to the supply shed. My love for Essex had cost me my sweet July, who was family in all but blood. He did not need to use her to make his point; he’d already taken my son away. Now I had lost them both. I clawed at my forearms until they stung with pain.

Time ticked—I had to pull myself together. I wanted July to have the dress that Hilda had made for her birthday even though it was still a few weeks away, but before she put it on I needed to sew in protection. Through my tears, I attached two secret pockets. One I filled with coins and the other a pouch of herbs, like Mama had made for me when I moved up to the big house.

July entered the shed with red-rimmed eyes, her hair damp.

“I am so sorry.” I wrapped her in my embrace.

“I’s scared.”

“I know. You are the closest thing I have to a younger sister. If I could change your fate I would.”

“You can change Marse mind. He listens to you.”

I wished I could hide her. This was my cross to bear and she needed to see my strength. “Not this time.”

I dried her tears with the back of my hand, showed her the inside of the dress, and told her about my gifts. Now it was my turn to lace her into a corset. I pushed it below her ribs, laced it through, and fastened the strings when tight. July had a real hoopskirt, not the grapevine I’d come to the jail in. I added rouge to her cheeks and made her lips appear bloodstained. Her thick hair I piled onto her head and then dabbed her neck and wrists with perfume. Maybe being pretty would make her luckier than most.

“Don’t make me go,” she cried again.

If I had to throw her to the wolves, then she needed to come out of the battle standing. I grabbed her hands tightly in mine.

“You are only a slave in name. Never in your mind. Remember all that I have taught you. Try to be useful in the big house and keep your education hidden.”

She nodded.

“Lord protect her.” I spit over her shoulders like I had seen Mama do, then pulled her along.

Elsie, Sissy, and Janice stood behind the shed to see her off. I hoped that the girl’s teacher, Grace Marshall, was keeping them occupied and that none would run from the house. That would only make this moment more difficult. Tommy darted from the stables and threw his arms around July.

“Shame ’fore God.” Elsie slapped her hands together. “Raised her up from a girl. Shame ’fore God.”

My knees wobbled as I led July away from the crowd and opened the door to the tavern. The Jailer waited at his usual table, where he was sitting with a tall, skinny man. Between them sat July’s papers.

When I stepped back outside I bent over and howled.





CHAPTER 36




Falling

Grief rose like a wall around me. Everything that had happened was my fault. July being sold. Monroe not returning home. Essex withering away in the prison cell. The guilt of failing them all suffocated me until my bones felt heavy and exhausted. I took to my bed early without dinner, but the next morning I still overslept. Abbie had to rouse and remind me that July was gone. “I tried gettin’ them dressed, but they wantin’ July.”

When I opened the door to the nursery, they ran to me.

“Mother, Abbie said July was gone. When shall she return?” Hester wrangled with her hair.

“She promised to play dolls with me today,” Isabel pouted.

I stumbled, then collapsed into the rocking chair. “Girls, July went away.”

“For how long?”

“When will she return, Mama?” Joan clutched my hands.

“She is not coming back. She has been called to do another job.”

Isabel wailed. “She is my best friend.”

I moved to comfort her, but she screamed, “I do not want you. I want July!”

I pulled my robe tighter against my chest.

“Me too, I want July!” hollered Joan. “Who will rub my back?”

“Me.”

“No! You will not do it right.”

With me working in the shed and playing in the tavern, the girls relied on July for their every need. They were more accustomed to her than they were me. Isabel threw herself on the floor and started kicking her feet. I pulled her up in my arms and rocked her.

“Girls, it will be okay.”

“Feels like I have swallowed a rock,” said Joan. “My belly hurts.”

I brought her into my lap too. Hester rested her head on my knee.

“We will get through this, I promise.”

When the older three finally settled down, I held Birdie and read them each the book of their choice. Then we colored pictures.

“For July, when she comes home,” said Joan, her eyes big and hopeful. I patted her head as Abbie shuffled in.

“Marse wantin’ to see you in the parlor.”

It was early for him to be home for supper. Even earlier for him to fancy a drink. I handed Birdie to Abbie and then made my way to the parlor. I wore my simple work dress, with even less attention given to my hair.

The Jailer’s mouth creased. “We are going for a carriage ride. You look as if you could use some fresh air.”

“But the girls? With July gone, who will care for them?”