“No. I was just shooting my mouth off.” Morning Fawn touched Lucy’s faded sleeve. “Forgive me. I’m sure he’ll help you, regardless of what else he may or may not do.”
Lucy scrunched up her brow. “Why you acting like he done spoiled your cream?”
“He went to Alleyton this morning. Spent the day there and didn’t mention a word of it to me.”
“And why should he?” Lucy urged Morning Fawn to her feet, facing her. “He inspected the cotton gin yesterday and didn’t say a word then, did he?”
“I told you what’s in Alleyton.” Morning Fawn sucked in a breath as Lucy hooked up the corset front and the whale baleen tightened around her ribs.
“So you goin’ yell at him or have a conniption fit? Give him a piece of your mind? You think that will win him over? You think that’s what this Miss Frieda did when he showed up at her house today?”
“I don’t want to think about what that woman did. I’d like to throw her cookies to the pigs.”
Lucy chuckled. “You don’t own that man, girl. Not yet. He make any promises to you? Come calling yet?”
Well, he had made a promise—just not the kind Lucy meant. “I don’t care if that man ever comes calling. And he’d better get it straight in his head that I’m not the cookie-and-lemonade type of girl. I don’t crochet doilies either.”
Lucy laughed. “Maybe he don’t want no doilies. Maybe hewants him a woman who can ride a horse as fast as he can or better. A woman who loves adventure and who has fire in her eyes and cheeks, not cream.” She shook her finger at Morning Fawn. “Just don’t go chasin’ him away with your temper.”
How in the world did she get into this conversation? “You’re just all sunshine and rainbows over him because he saved you and Ned the other night, and you have every right to be, but that doesn’t have anything to do with his opinion of me. And you should see the way he looks at Ebony, as if he’d like to sell her for horse meat. As if I’m stupid enough to believe every line that comes out of Nicholas Moyer’s mouth.”
Lucy clicked her tongue. “Now here I thought you’d gone and done wrong by accepting that horse.”
“I’ve told you and everyone else—I’m only borrowing Ebony.”
“If you say so. Just don’t get tangled in that net Moyers is throwing out for you. But if you’ve got the lieutenant riled up about it, then maybe good will come of it.” Standing on tiptoe, Lucy lifted the royal-blue dress, an updated hand-me-down wrenched from Thea’s trunk, and draped it over Morning Fawn’s head. “That man has eyes for you. So when you’s goes down to dinner, don’t let that Miss Thea get you all caught up in throwing words at each other, like fists.”
“Doesn’t your temper ever get the best of you?”
“I simmer something terrible at times. Except I’ve learned to hold my tongue until I’m out of earshot of those who think they have power over me. I remind myself that the Good Lord is the real massar, and the LeBeaus are going to figure that out someday.”
Morning Fawn smoothed the folds of her skirt. The fancy lace trim on the bodice scratched against her collarbone. If the Lord cared about Lucy, why didn’t he rescue her from slavery? For that matter, why had he allowed Morning Fawn’s parents todie? Her life held a bucket ofwhys so deep, she could drown in it.
Devon sipped his wine and glanced across the table at Morning Fawn. The royal-blue silk suited her well. The pagoda sleeves and lace trim added an air of elegance. Her hair had been drawn away from the front of her face and woven into a loose knot, but the rest spilled onto her shoulders like spun honey.
A slight blush glowed on her cheeks. Because of his gaze? He’d like to think so. Stupid of him. She likely had no interest other than having him help Lucy. He should have figured that out the moment she walked into the barn today. That black mustang had made enough noise to remind him of it. But still?—
“Papa, it was wise of you to have Adela wait on us tonight.” Kitty-corner across from him instead of at her usual seat by his side, Thea nodded toward the middle-aged servant who usually aided Flora in the kitchen.
Devon sawed into his pork. They’d gone out of their way to remove Lucy from the dining room. Afraid he’d be tempted by her proximity? Leave it to Thea to rub his face in his supposed wrongs.
LeBeau cleared his throat. “Adela needs to get out of the kitchen now and then.” He settled back in his chair and hooked a thumb in his waistcoat pocket. “Reynolds, what do you know about horse racing? I’m not talking about Moyer’s offer. Mr. Franklin of Pryor Place is aiming to throw a real race together.”
Devon lifted his fork. “If he’s planning on racing that beauty I saw three weeks ago, I think everyone else will be left in the dust.”
“That Thoroughbred isn’t as fast as she looks.” LeBeau puffed out his chest.
“Especially after Beth finished with her.” Thea twirled an auburn curl around her finger.
Morning Fawn straightened. “I think Lieutenant Reynold’s horse would have a chance of winning.”
“Of course, you do.” Thea rolled her eyes.
“I was thinking more of my Lightning.” LeBeau frowned. “Finest quarter horse in Colorado County.”
“Perhaps you can challenge Franklin to a sprint?” That’d be the only hope of winning against a Thoroughbred.
“Excellent idea, Reynolds. I’ll propose that to Franklin next time I see him.”
