In His Eyes(59)

“Good morning, madam. I have come to collect the taxes for this property.”

Her pulse quickened and her mind scrambled for something to say. She’d never managed to get Sibby to agree to anything. “Yes, of course.” She opened the door farther. “Won’t you please come in?”

He hesitated.

Ella gestured inside. Perhaps the invitation would ease the skepticism flashing in his eyes. If she didn’t seem too eager to be rid of him, then perhaps he would think she had nothing to hide. “My husband has returned home, and he will be able to take care of these issues with you.”

“He has?”

Ella widened the door. “Yes, thank the Lord. And if you don’t mind waiting, he should be back from town any time now.” She hoped. “As you know, such things really are better left to men to discuss. Now that he is returned to me, don’t you think it wise you speak to him instead?”

Not bothering to reply, he strode into the house, his eyes carrying over the decorative plaster and papered walls. What else was she going to do but hand the man over to Major Remington?

Oh, please, don’t let him be angry…

Ella gestured to the parlor. “If you will kindly wait here, I shall prepare some refreshments for you.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, madam.” His eyes lingered on her dress, and questions littered his eyes.

Ella laughed nervously. “It is quite a miracle! We thought he was dead, and here he is returned to us!”

He lifted his eyebrows and spoke slowly, as though to a child. “Your husband, the Federal officer, has returned?”

Ella resented the mocking tone, but kept a false smile plastered on her face. “He has, indeed! He will be glad to speak with you upon his return, I’m certain. He will want to get this unpleasant business settled.”

The man regarded her flatly.

Ella gestured toward the furniture. “Won’t you take a seat?”

He stiffly lowered to one of the chairs, his eyes never leaving her face. Before he could say anything else, Ella blurted, “I shall return with refreshments in a moment.” Then she turned in a spray of black fabric and slipped out from under his gaze.

Ella hurried up the stairs and back to the nursery, partially tripping on her skirts in her haste. She flung open the door, her heart galloping. “Sibby!”

The other woman yelped and put a hand to her mouth. “You done scared me!”

Ella closed the door behind her. “That Yankee soldier is back.”

Sibby’s face twisted. “What he want?”

Ella put her hands on her hips. “You know exactly what he wants. We were supposed to be planting fields! And the taxes…” She began to pace. “What are we going to do about the taxes?”

Sibby followed Ella with her eyes. “Why you doin’ all that frettin’?”

Lee began a coughing spasm, his tiny body quivering in the crib. Ella rushed to him just as he retched up a thick wad of mucus. Oh, a Yank in the house and Lee with this horrible sickness! Could this day get any worse? Her stomach twisted, and she felt as though she may try to heave up the empty contents of her stomach as well. She cleaned the baby’s face with the rag sitting in the crib.

“Miss Ella!”

Ella swung around. “What?”

“You gonna give you self flutters.”

Flutters?

“Why you all in a tizzy over that man down there? Mista Westley…Major Westley, he be here now. You lets him worry ’bout that man.”

Sibby’s words, so confidently spoken, eased some of the tightness in Ella’s chest. She’d said such things to the man below, but she didn’t actually believe them. She’d only tried to stall him. But, of course, Sibby was right. This wasn’t her house to worry over! She didn’t need to prove she belonged here, abide by any new Federal laws, or pay any money. None of those responsibilities belonged to her. They belonged to the major.

Ella wrinkled her nose. “He’s waiting in the parlor, and the major isn’t back with the doctor yet.”

“Then you best get him some tea or somethin’. I gots some bread and fig preserves in the kitchen.” She eyed Ella. “You know how to make the tea tray?”

“Of course I do.” She’d worked in a kitchen, after all. How different could that be from serving guests in a fine house?

Sibby held out her arms. “Then you best be givin’ me that boy and get to it.”

Ella clenched her teeth and took the servants’ stairs to the kitchen. By the time she had the bread sliced and the preserves in a small bowl, the tea kettle whistled. She carefully arranged it all on the tray and somehow managed to get it through the house without dropping anything.

She found the Federal man standing stiffly at the parlor door. “I began to think you would not return.”

“My apologies, sir,” she said as she slipped by him and set the tray down. “I’m afraid my maid has injured her ankle, and I had to prepare these things myself.”

“Oh.” He followed her to the center of the room and regained his seat. “Very well, then. How long do you expect your husband to be?” He pulled a watch from his breast pocket and snapped it open.

“My son is sick and Major Remington went to town before dawn to fetch the doctor. I expect them here momentarily.” She poured the tea and handed him the cup. “Sugar? I’m afraid we don’t have any cream.”