Daughters of the Heart by Caryl McAdoo

Author:Caryl McAdoo [McAdoo, Caryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 25974344
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

That night, Gwendolyn paced and prayed and begged the Lord to soften her father’s heart. Just because he waited four years to talk to her mother, didn’t mean she could wait any longer for Braxton.

She had to go to him. Take care of him. What if he died?

The rooster crowing up the sun woke her. For a few heartbeats, she marveled at being fully dressed on top of the bed covers.

But then like a dagger plunged into her chest, realization struck. She jumped up and ran downstairs. Positive of what had to be done.

Her father sat in the kitchen sipping coffee and chatting with her stepmother and Chester while Miss Jewel stirred what smelled and looked like thickening gravy at the stove. So normal the scene, except it wasn’t.

Nothing might ever be normal again—not for her. At eighteen, she was certainly old enough to decide for herself.

Mary Rachel had done so a whole year younger.

“Daddy, I need my money. I’m going to New Orleans.”

He turned in his chair and faced her, his eyes harder than steel. “Why, pray tell, do you want to do that?”

“Braxton’s sick. I couldn’t stand it if he died there alone, and I wasn’t with him.”

May jumped to her feet and moved in front of her father. “Mister Hightower didn’t say one word about being ill. What makes you think that he is? What do you imagine is wrong with him?”

“His thinks it’s the fever. If you’ve been reading my letters, too, then you know he’s been helping the Sisters take care of the orphans and widows. There’s so many poor children lost their parents to the fever. Husbands who died.”

Her father stood and joined May. “Sweetheart, the man who came here, the man who has been writing you letters, doesn’t exist. We don’t know for sure who he is, but there’s no Braxton Hightower in all of New Orleans.”

“What are you saying? Are you crazy?” His words made not one iota of sense. Of course Braxton existed. His smile flashed across her mind’s eye. “Why are saying that? You know he was here, you showed him around yourself. What do you mean he doesn’t exist?”

“There is no Braxton Hightower, Gwendolyn.”

She held out the locket he’d just sent. “How can you say that? Braxton just sent me this, and now he’s sick. He wants me to come, and I fully intend to, Daddy. Please give me my money, so I can go.”

“There’s no way that I’ll allow you to travel to New Orleans alone. I’ll not give you a dime.” Her father shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’m convinced Bull Glover is behind this. Your Uncle Chester here is the first one figured it out. Jean Paul asked around when he took that first load of cotton to New Orleans.”

It couldn’t be true! Bull Glover, her eye!

Miss Jewel moved the skillet and wiped her hands on her apron, turning toward her. “That’s right, baby girl. Chester saw that letter to C. Raines.”

“I am not a baby! And so what? Claude was Braxton’s friend.

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