Page 93 of Just Imagine
Kit’s face was chalk-white. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
Now that her secret was no longer locked inside her, Sophronia was finally calm. “I’m glad my mama died before it all started. She was a strong woman, but seeing what was happening to me would have broke her.” Sophronia reached out and touched Kit’s immobile cheek. “We’re sisters, Kit,” she said softly. “Didn’t you ever feel it? Didn’t you ever feel that tie between us, binding us so tight nothing could ever pull us apart? Right from the start, it was the two of us. Your mama died after you were born, and my mama was supposed to take care of you, but she didn’t like to touch you because of what had happened. So I took care of you, right from the beginning. A child raising a child. I can remember holding you in my lap when I couldn’t have been more than four or five myself. I used to set you next to me in the kitchen when I was working and play doll babies with you in the evening. And then Mama died, and you were all I had. That’s why I never left Risen Glory, not even when you went away to New York City. I had to make sure you’d be all right. But when you came back, it was like you were a different person, part of a world I couldn’t belong to. I’ve been jealous, and I’ve been scared, too. You’ve got to forgive me for what I’m goin’ to do, Kit, but you have a place in the world, and now it’s time for me to find mine.” She gave Kit a swift hug and fled.
Not long after, Cain found Kit there. She was still standing in the center of the room. Her muscles were rigid, her hands knotted into fists.
“Where the hell is every— Kit? What’s wrong?”
In an instant he was beside her. She felt as if she’d been pulled from a trance. She sagged against him, choking on a sob. He took her in his arms and led her to the settee. “Tell me what happened.”
His arms felt so good around her. He’d never held her like this—protectively, with no trace of passion. She began to cry. “Sophronia’s leaving. She’s going away to Charleston to be . . . to be James Spence’s mistress.”
Cain swore softly. “Does Magnus know about this?”
“I—I don’t think so.” She tried to catch her breath. “She just told me . . . Sophronia’s my sister.”
“Your sister?”
“Garrett Weston’s daughter, just like me.”
He stroked her chin with his thumb. “You’ve lived in the South all your life. Sophronia’s skin is light.”
“You don’t understand.” She clenched her jaw and spat out the words through her tears. “My father used to give her away to his friends for the night. He knew she was his daughter, his own flesh and blood, but he gave her away just the same.”
“Oh, God . . .” Cain’s face grew ashen. He pulled her tighter and rested his cheek against the top of her head as she cried. Gradually she filled in the details of the story for him. When she was done, Cain spoke viciously. “I hope he’s burning in hell.”
Now that she’d poured out the story, Kit realized what she had to do. She leaped up from the settee. “I have to stop her. I can’t let her go through with this.”
“Sophronia’s a free woman,” he reminded her gently. “If she wants to go off with Spence, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“She’s my sister! I love her, and I won’t let her do this!”
Before Cain could stop her, she raced from the room.
Cain sighed as he uncoiled himself from the settee. Kit was hurting badly, and as he knew only too well, that could lead to trouble.
Outside, Kit hid in the trees near the front. Her teeth chattered as she huddled in the damp, wintry shadows waiting for Cain to come out. He soon appeared, as she’d known he would. She watched him descend the steps and look toward the drive. When he didn’t see her, he cursed, turned on his heel, and headed for the stable.
As soon as he was out of sight, she ran back into the house and made her way to the gun rack in the library. She didn’t expect too much trouble from James Spence, but since she had no intention of letting Sophronia go off with him, she needed the gun to add weight to her arguments.
Several miles away, James Spence’s crimson-and-black buggy swept past the buggy Magnus was driving. Spence was in an all-fired hurry to get wherever he was going, Magnus thought as he observed the vehicle disappear around the bend. Since there wasn’t much along this road except Risen Glory and the cotton mill, Spence must have business at the mill.
It was a logical conclusion, but somehow it didn’t satisfy him. He gave the horses a sharp slap with the reins. As he hurried toward Risen Glory, he considered what he knew about Spence.
Local gossip reported that he’d managed an Illinois gravel quarry, bought himself out of the draft for three hundred dollars, and headed South after the war with a carpetbag stuffed full of greenbacks. Now he had a prosperous phosphate mine and a hankering for Sophronia.
Spence’s buggy had already stopped at the bottom of the drive when Magnus got there. The businessman was dressed in a black frock coat and bowler, with a walking stick in his gloved hand. Magnus barely spared him a glance. All his attention was fixed on Sophronia.
She stood at the side of the road with her blue woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a satchel at her feet.
“Sophronia!” He pulled up the buggy and jumped out.
Her head shot up, and for an instant he thought he saw a flicker of hope in her eyes, but then they clouded over, and she clutched the shawl tighter. “You leave me alone, Magnus Owen. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
Spence stepped around from the side of the carriage and looked at Magnus. “Something the matter, boy?”
Magnus tucked a thumb into his belt and glared at him. “The lady’s changed her mind.”
Spence’s eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his bowler. “If you’re talking to me, boy, I suggest you call me ‘sir.’ ”
