Chapter 25 #2
Our attention swiveled to Hattie. She stood near a busy stall, being looked over by a short, pudgy, well-dressed white man whose green eyes were shrewd. Assessing.
I rushed forward and pulled Hattie to me. “My apologies for any inconvenience, sir.”
“An inconvenience isn’t possible when you’re part of Tolliver’s household. He’s a colleague. Our business dealings are so intertwined that his household might as well be mine.”
An inexplicable chill slithered down my spine. I held tightly on to Hattie and kept my eyes downcast when he offered her a peppermint.
She looked up, brown eyes wide with excitement. “May I, Mama?”
I studied her upturned face with its cleft chin, plump cheeks, and sparkling innocence. I nodded despite chilly misgivings, feeling slightly warmer as Coraline moved beside me.
“Hello, Mister Stallworth.”
He snorted dismissively and walked off without returning Coraline’s greeting.
I breathed deeply, relieved in his absence. “Who’s he?”
“If Bayard were here, he’d say ‘a miserable S.O.B.’ but I’m a lady so I’ll simply say, fine clothing aside, he’s no gentleman.”
She quietly explained hiring a lawyer to fight the man’s dispute that he was entitled to Mr. Bayard’s livery, alleging he’d won it in a card game with the prior owner.
She bent to wipe smeared candy from Hattie’s round face and smoothed her long, jet-black plaits.
“He’s unscrupulous and hoodwinks others, but our lawyer proved the claim was baseless. Stallworth has hated us ever since.”
I looked at Hattie, wishing I could extricate the peppermint she’d already devoured.
“Pay him no mind. We were discussing sweet things. Namely the wedding. Again, I meant no offense. With four boys, I get excited about your girls and love them like they’re mine. What if we shared the cost of the dresses?”
We both took one of Hattie’s hands as we continued through the marketplace.
Don’t let your pride dent your behind.
I smiled at Mama Ruth’s truth. “Sharing the cost’ll be fine.”
San Bernardino was growing. And not merely its Mormon community.
On occasion miners headed to the northern part of the state returned when gold prospects proved disappointing.
Native Indians remained, as did the Mexicanos whose language I still didn’t comprehend.
Mormons stopping for a respite before continuing to Salt Lake often stayed, increasing their numbers greatly.
“There’s too many of ’em.” Master Ryland lamented the free Negro population in the state, not the influx of Mormons.
I silently served supper to the Tollivers and their guests, taking note of what was said.
“They’re crazy to think whatever they birth here oughta be free.
You got runaways. Sympathizers. And damn abolitionists who don’t know the divine order of things. ”
“Brother Brigham warned us about California’s corruption,” a guest remarked. “It’s getting worse. If we’re not careful, we’ll lose our way of life and what we’ve labored for.”
“I’ll pack up and leave before that happens.”
“Dear, getting here was brutal. I couldn’t survive returning to Mississippi.” Miss Norene fanned away the notion.
“We wouldn’t go home. My herds are multiplying so fast I could use more land. I hear there’s plenty of wide-open space in Texas. If things get too bad here, we’ll head there.”
Things got bad fast. Two weeks later while cleaning their bedroom, I avoided Miss Norene fluttering about like a lost bumblebee with damaged wings.
“Ryland, we can’t possibly owe that man money for the cattle… can we?”
“Lemme think, Norene.” Her husband paced in the opposite direction, avoiding her fluttering as well.
“But you paid for the new heads of cattle in full. Didn’t you?”
When her husband didn’t answer, I peeked to see him leaning against the wall kneading the bridge of his nose.
“I paid. Partially. Peterson and I had an agreement with him.”
“What kind of agreement?” She fluttered my way without looking, bumping into me. “Move, Zinnie! In fact, leave. I can’t think with you here. Close the door when you exit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I exited as instructed but I didn’t leave.
My spirit needed to know what was happening.
I pressed my ear against the door but was unable to hear clearly.
Just snatches and pieces. New enterprise.
Bad investment. Owing more on a loan than either he or Peterson had.
Demanding full payment or collect collateral.
His collateral? The cattle. I didn’t comprehend everything.
Just enough to know Ryland Tolliver was scared witless.
I jumped away and busied myself dusting furniture when he opened the door.
“I’m not giving up nothing, Norene! Stallworth left for Sacramento two weeks ago and ain’t coming back ‘til January. We’ll be long gone by then. Zinnie! Assemble everybody.”
“Yes, sir.” Dread filled my bones when I heard Mister Stallworth’s name.
I hurried away, remembering the marketplace encounter and his statement about our households’ interconnection.
Him giving Hattie a peppermint showed interest. Coraline called him unscrupulous.
Whatever the Tollivers’ business with him, I had a horrible feeling it involved us and not merely cattle.
We were assembled within minutes. Unfortunately, my gut proved correct.
“Keep your damn mouths shut or you’ll belong to Stallworth! If my business gets circulated, you’ll have hell to pay.” We were to pack lightly. Only necessities. All else would stay behind to satisfy a liability. We were leaving, fleeing the grasp of a debt-collecting man.
“Mama, we can’t leave! We’re getting married.”
I swallowed so much of Juniper and Annabelle’s distress I had no room for mine. “Hush, now. Ain’t nothing we can do to keep it from happening.”
“But we’ll be gone when Beltram and Bayard get back from Bakersfield and Thanksgiving.”
I held my daughters, their tears soaking my dress, when what I wanted was to bash Ryland Tolliver upside the head. Afraid we’d disclose his doings, we were forbidden to leave the homestead that week. No marketplace. No boardinghouse church or farewell with friends.
Now, in the dead of night we were vanishing.
“Mama, please, do something!”
Annabelle’s grief was devastating. I’d prayed for a miracle and felt beyond helpless. “Go assist the little ones. It’s for God to do now. Juniper, help Aunt Alretha.”
Lord, if she loses that baby out here like Lovie, I’ll put a knife in his gullet.
“And Ella out here with an infant. It’s me and Hattie all over again.
” I’d been nervous after Lovie, but delivering Ella’s second son, Matthew, was without complications.
I was grateful. “Hattie, come on here!” I scooped her onto the back of a wagon.
Master Ryland and Mister Peterson wanted as much distance between us and their debtor as quickly as possible. Riding would accomplish that.
“Your turn, Mama. Climb up.” Hattie’s voice sounded tiny in the cold night.