Taking me? Allison envisioned Coswellbreaking into the house, knocking Grier out, stealing the key, andcarrying her off kicking and screaming. The thought turned herstomach and iced her blood.
“He said I never paid off the loan he gave meand he threatened to take me to court.” Grier took off his other shoe and threw it on thehardwood floor. “How am I supposed to pay back my debt after thedamn war took everything but you away from me?”
Allison’s eyes widened. She knew he loved herbody, but he didn’t have feelings for her. He just wanted to keeppossession of his property. If she was gone, he’d only have arundown shack to his name. He wouldn’t sell her to Coswell to payhis debts, would he?
She sat on the floor, arms wrapped around herknees, protecting herself for the time being.
Between the two men, she preferred Grier. She should behave tonight andgive him reason to protect her from Coswell. The numbness insideher grew. How much more of this could she take?
God if you’re listening, show me a way out, show me theway to freedom.
Chapter 2
GEORGE WALKED INTO town, head bowed. Evenwith his gray felt hat, the noon sun heated his head and backside.Sweat drenched his forehead and dust from the road stuck to hisskin. Warm for late September. The wind was dead calm – not even abreeze. Seemed the weather prided itself on increasing hisdiscomfort. Hopefully, he’d still look presentable when he arrivedat the unassuming house known to harbor working women. If theythought he was nothing but a tramp, they’d send him away. The menseen entering the house were typically white and dressed in townsuits. How would he be received? Ambling back to the farm withouteven tasting the joy of coupling with a woman would bedisheartening, even humiliating. Frederick would know. His brotherrooted out many of his secrets.
To any traveler passing on the road, thehouse looked respectable. Other brothels touted their business. Ofcourse, he wouldn’t be accepted there. They were flashy, classy,not for the likes of him.
George knew better. Knew an equal amount ofpleasure seekers did so quietly. His brother Frederick’s past“business” dealings had taught him a little about the bawdier sideof town. And now he was striking out on his own, leaving a life offarming behind, seeking adventure on the mighty Mississippi as aroustabout. It would be his second time on the water loading andunloading cargo, and he couldn’t wait. But first, he’d become a manin the only way that truly mattered.
Heart racing from a mix of fear andanticipation, he stepped to the front door and knocked.
A white man with a hard jaw and round faceopened the door. He stared at him with beady hazel eyes. A hint ofviolence soured the air around him and twisted George’s gut.
“What do you want?” The question came out asmore of a warning.
George’s muscles tensed right between hisshoulder blades, pulling him to his full height.
The man snarled, reminding him of a dog aboutto bite. George blinked and then averted his eyes. It didn’t take agenius to figure out the cracker standing in the doorway didn’tmuch like colored folks.
But why had a white man answered the door?Had the property been sold?
The man folded his arms across his chest,waiting for an answer. He wasn’t a muscular man, but definitelysturdy. George didn’t want to tangle with him.
He swallowed hard, trying to push thenervousness back down his throat. “I … uh … was looking forcompany.”
The man’s face softened into a morehospitable expression. He scanned George from head to toe. “You gotmoney, boy?”
“Yes, sir.” But how much did it cost?
George pulled three dollars out of his pocketand the man grabbed them from him.
George opened his mouth and stopped himselffrom protesting. That would only cause trouble. This would be anexpensive roll in the hay. It better be worth every penny.
The man stuffed the money into the pocket ofhis dark brown frock coat and thenturned his head sideways. “Go around back,” he ordered.
George took a deep breath and exhaled throughhis nose. Some things would never change.
He nodded and strolled to the back of thehouse.
A colored woman held the door open for him.She was on the heavy side, her bosom large enough to support awhole brood of children, a fancy yellow dress billowing aroundher.
“Why you’rejust a young thing.” She grinned.
George didn’t want to seem inexperienced.“I’m eighteen, ma’am.” The woman lookedat least twelve years older than he was—not who he’dpictured for his first time. With that huge yellow dress, he’d bemaking love to a sunflower. He hesitated before stepping into thehouse.
She waved him in. “Don’t be shy. I don’tbite.”
Well, he’d already paid a lot more than he’dplanned. He doubted he’d get a refund if he got cold feet. “Yes,ma’am,” George said, suddenly extremely self-conscious.
They stood in the kitchen. The room smelledof coffee grounds. She walked to another door and opened it. “We’regoing to the basement.”
“Basement?” Was there a bed in thebasement?
She grabbed his hand and led him down thestairs. “Mr. Coswell doesn’t like it when we see colored customersin the rooms,” she explained. “Says it disturbs our otherguests.”
“Oh.” His money was good enough to spend buthe wasn’t good enough for a room. George gritted his teeth, his gutclenching. Slaves were freed, but the differing treatmentcontinued. It would be a miracle if white people ever viewed themas equals. The stale stench increased with each step. Was thebasement ever swept or aired out? Dust floated in the air and hecovered his mouth and coughed.
At the bottom of the stairs, the woman lit alantern.
George scanned the basement—there wasn’t muchto see. Gunny sacks and old clotheslined the floor, providing them a soft place to lie, heassumed.
The woman tilted her head and smiled coyly.“What’s your name, handsome?”
“George. And yours?”
“Mary.”
George chewed on his lip and didn’t move. Hismuscles molded together and he turned into a breathing statue.Frederick had told him how to hold a woman, how to caress her, buthe didn’t know where
