Chapter 20: Inspection
The bailiff frowned at the second bed. "What's this here for?" he said.
Logan growled out, "Friends. Guests."
The bailiff nodded. "Those are her clothes on the nails there?"
Logan snapped, "What's it look like?"
Remy sighed. This third visit was going well so far, unless you counted Logan's monosyllabic answers to all the questions and the open hostility. Remy couldn't blame him; after all, here was the local gendarme telling Logan how to run his cabin, and John Logan was not a man who took kindly to other people telling him what to do. At least he hadn't tried to hit the man yet. Not like the last time. The last time he'd been fined for trying to punch the deputy. The sheriff had come first, then the next time he'd sent the deputy, and now it was the court bailiff. Remy was sure the next time it was going to be the judge himself.
The bailiff sighed. "All right. I'd like to see what her sleeping arrangements are like."
Logan pointed to the pile of neatly-folded blankets on top of the chest along the wall. "Sleeps on them. Sleeps in the barn when it's hot."
The bailiff gestured to the open cabin door. "Lead the way."
Logan growled low in his throat, but stomped out to the barn and opened the door.
The bailiff nudged at the straw with a toe, noting the light blanket folded neatly on top of the pile of straw. He also noticed there were two ropes hanging from the ring in the wall. "What's the other rope for?"
Logan growled. "Pet wolf. Sleeps here."
"Pet wolf? Hers or yours?"
Logan bit back the truth that would have landed them in hot water. "Mine. Keep him here to guard the horses against thieves."
The bailiff nodded. "Well, it all seems to be in order." He studied the paper in his hand. "Ah, I see here she's branded to be a body slave. Has she been performing to your satisfaction?"
Logan almost choked. That was one question he hadn't been expecting. "What happens at night ain't none o' yer business, mister!"
The bailiff studied him intently. "The reason I'm asking, Mister Logan, is because if she isn't we could help her along by having her spend a few weeks at Miss Hannah's in town. She said she'd be glad to teach your slave certain…techniques…to enhance your satisfaction, seeing as she's a little young to be real good at it."
Logan turned an alarming shade of purple. Remy hastily interjected a word before Logan could explode. "She doin' jus' fine, Mister," he said, leaning back and putting his feet on the table, smiling. "I can testify to dat." He was relieved when the bailiff took the smile the way he'd intended the man to take it.
"I'm glad to hear it," the bailiff said. "And now, I'd like to see her. Where is she?"
Logan led the way out the back door of the cabin to the training corral. Jubilee was on Thunder bareback today, training him to turn on a signal of hand and arm instead of foot or rein. It was a thinly veiled excuse for Jubilee to spend time with her beloved horse without having it seem like fun.
The bailiff frowned extremely hard. "She is not supposed to be on horseback."
Logan snapped, "She got my permission. It's part o' her work. I got her helpin' me with the horses. My main business is horse trainin', an' I need my horses ta be trained ta bridle, saddle, man an' woman riders."
The bailiff signaled to her. "You, girl! Off the horse!" Jubilee saw the three men standing by the fence rail, and slid off Thunder's bare back. The bailiff raised his eyebrows, but refrained from comment. Instead he addressed her when she stopped in front of them. "Come out here." Thunder was cantering around the corral, looking upset at the presence of the stranger. He'd gotten used to Remy being around; Logan he would let touch him, though not ride; but this new guy didn't seem to tickle his fancy at all. And the bailiff knew that.
Jubilee ducked obediently between the rails of the fence and came to a stop in front of the bailiff, head lowered, eyes respectfully downcast. She knew who he was.
"Have you been obeying your master?" The bailiff asked.
"Yes, sir," she said softly.
"Have you been doing all work assigned to you to his satisfaction?"
"Yes sir."
The bailiff poked her arm to check her muscles, then crouched and grabbed her leg, pushing her skirt up to feel her leg muscles. "Has your master had to correct you for anything at all?"
"No, sir." She stood quietly as the bailiff's hand slid further up, but her eyes widened, and then she gave a tiny, barely-audible gasp.
The bailiff said to Logan, "You are sure she is performing adequately for you and your guest?"
Logan turned purple. Jubilee's eyes met his, saw the anger, and knew if he lost his temper and struck the bailiff, they would be in trouble. Her eyes flew to Remy for help.
Remy stepped in close, cupped her chin in his hand, and pressed his lips full on hers. She stood quietly, passively, until he whispered to her, "Like you like it, p'tite, or we all in trouble." She opened her lips and let him plunder her mouth with utter abandon. Her eyelids fluttered closed as the feel of his tongue in her mouth woke a wonderful sensation in her mind, a need for more.
Remy felt like he was drowning. A part of him screamed at him to stop, that this was a little girl, but his other senses were full of the sight, smell, and taste of her. He hadn't kissed a woman like this in so long…and after all, girls younger than her were becoming pregnant each day…he broke off the kiss.
The bailiff studied Remy's face, Jubilee's slightly parted lips, then tapped her lip with a finger. She opened her mouth obediently, and he checked her carefully. "All teeth there," he wrote on the paper. "Sir, have you given her any other scars that might help identify her if she happens to run away from you?"
"No," Logan ground out through gritted teeth. He was going to shatter them soon if this kept up. How dare this man feel over her with no regard to her modesty or gender? And Remy…he was going to have a talk with the Cajun after the bailiff left.
The bailiff stepped back. "Get on with your work," he said, and she ducked tranquilly back between the fence rails and headed for Thunder again, mounting him bareback with ease. "How else does she occupy her time, besides helping you with the horses?" the bailiff asked.
"She sews shirts, makes her own clothes, stitches bridle and saddle leathers, works on the garden, feeds and waters the livestock, cooks and does dishes and housework," Logan bit off his words sharply.
The bailiff said, "We have had an anonymous report that she was also seen to ride on horseback to the west," The bailiff continued. "Can you tell me why she was doing so? The report simply said that she had showed a pass and had your permission."
Logan blinked, startled. Jubilee had never told him she was accosted and asked for her pass. Why hadn't she told him? "I do some tradin' with the Indians," he said. "One o' the braves had traded fer a horse o' mine, and I had ta send her over ta the camp with a blanket an' the horse's tack."
The bailiff nodded. "Just make sure she has a pass every time you send her on an errand."
Logan nodded. He always did. As if he'd forget. If he forgot, even once, she could be seriously hurt, or killed, if someone caught her without it and decided to give her a flogging.
The bailiff tipped his hat. "All seems to be in order, Mister Logan. Be sure you keep it that way. The soldiers'll stop in every now and then to make sure she's behaving. After all, out here, it would be easy for a slave to knife a master in the back and run." He mounted his horse and left, trotting back in the direction of town.
Logan waited until the man was out of earshot, then turned and caught the Cajun with a stiff right hook that laid the taller man out in the dust. "Damn yer hide, Cajun, I want ya offa my property in an hour! How dare ya touch my girl like that!"
Remy lay on the ground, dazed, rubbing his jaw. Damn. For all the older man's small stature, Remy was willing to bet there wasn't an ounce of body fat on him, the way that punch had felt. "Look, mon ami," he said, sitting up and gingerly rubbing his aching jaw, "Dat gendarme was tryin' to get us to prove we usin' her for what she a slave for. You know what happen if he t'ink we not using her at night? He tell you to hire her out to de whorehouse."
"Remy!" Jubilee shrieked, having just come around the corner of the cabin and seen Logan standing over Remy. She ran to him. "Remy? Are you all right? Papa, what did you do that for?"
"He grabbed ya an' kissed ya 'gainst yer will," Logan snapped. "Ain't gonna let nobody touch you 'thout you wantin' it."
"It took me by surprise, Papa, but if he hadn't I'd be under Mr. Hunter tomorrow in the whorehouse," she said angrily to him. "He felt me over. I tried to relax but he wasn't satisfied."
"He…just …put his…" Logan was speechless with shock.
"I'm just property, Papa. They can touch me and feel me and do anything they want to me. Any free person can order me to do anything, and I have to do it."
Logan's eyes narrowed. "That 'minds me, the Bailiff said someone'd delivered a report that said they'd stopped ya on yer way ta the Indian camp and asked fer yer pass. Why didn't ya tell me?"
Jubilee lowered her eyes. "I didn't want you to know," she said softly. "I was afraid you'd be upset if you found out." She looked at him sorrowfully, and said. "It was a group of soldiers. They stopped me and asked my business, and I gave them the pass. They told me to get down and kneel while they read it." Her eyes filled with tears. "They asked me to undress for them. They spent a while just touching me all over. I was afraid you'd be upset that I let them but I had to. If I didn't obey they'd beat me."
Logan growled. "Answer me truthfully, girl. You been stopped by anyone else? And has anyone…well.." he couldn't say the ugly word.
She shook her head no. "It was really close once. A passing lone soldier on his way back to the fort told me to get on my hands and knees and crawl for him, and then he asked me to remove my drawers so he could look at me. He didn't touch me, he just stood there and looked at me for a long time. Then he told me to get dressed and get on my way."
Logan felt his heart lurch. Dear God, she wasn't safe. He would have to go with her from now on. "No more solitary trips, okay?" he said. "They won't try anything if I'm there." He hugged her tightly, never seeing the look she gave Remy.
"You didn' tell him de trut'."
Jubilee looked up as the barn door closed behind Remy. "No, I didn't. It would tear him apart if he knew. I don't want to hurt Papa like that." She peered past him, as if to check and see if Logan was coming.
"He asleep, chere." She nodded as he sat down on the hay pile beside her. "So you still eating dem leaves I told you to eat so you don't get pregnant?"
She nodded. "Every day. I never know which day the soldiers will be passing by, and I don't want Papa to know. He'll get mad, and he'll go try to get them, and he'll get in trouble. I don't want him to get in trouble."
Remy shook his head. "He goin' to fin' out eventually, chere."
"If I'm careful, he won't." She caressed the silent, alert wolf at her side. "I always do what they tell me to. Always. Even if I hate it. They call me good girl, and they don't hurt me. If I resist they said they'd strap me. They hit me once, just so I'd know what it feels like to be strapped. I told Papa a saddle girth strap had come free and hit my leg." Remy nodded. He'd seen that stripe, and he knew what it was from, even if Logan hadn't. But he'd kept his silence.
"T'ank God dat he know about dem black slaves who used you," Remy said. He didn't use the word 'rape'; they both knew since she wasn't legally a person, it wasn't rape. "Ot'erwise your secret would be out by now. All dem times you wake up screaming in your sleep."
She swallowed hard. "I don't even have nightmares about it anymore. Just…once in a while, when they want me to…" she trailed off. Remy winced and shifted uncomfortably. "That hurts. I know when they want to do that too; they catch me a little further away from the ranch and 'escort' me part of the way so you and Papa won't hear me crying."
Remy sighed. "You can't continue to do dis, chere," he said softly as she lay down and pillowed her head on his lap. He stroked her hair. "It goin' to kill you. Please, chere--"
She sat up and pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't say it, Remy," she said. "Please. I want to come with you, I really do, but I can't, Papa needs me. If I leave, he won't know what to do. He was so lonely, Remy, before I came. I can't leave him."
"You rat'er stay here and be used like dis den come wit' me to freedom?" he said. "De only reason I stay here dese past t'ree weeks is b'cause Remy hoping you tell your Papa you coming wit' me. He would understan', p'tite. He not going to stop you. An' you know he not going to hurt you or punish you for wantin' your freedom."
"You can go, Remy," Jubilee said softly. "I won't keep you here. There are other slaves out there who need you to help them. I can handle it here."
Remy looked at her face, silvered with moonlight. "Don' tell me you not going to miss me."
"I will," and a tear made a sparkling track down her face. "I'll miss you terribly. But Papa needs me. I can't leave him. I won't leave him." She pulled the blanket up over her chest. "You should go in."
"I be leavin' tomorrow, den, if you don' need me," Remy said softly. "But, chere…give Remy a goodbye kiss?"
She leaned over the sleeping wolf and pressed her lips full against his. They kissed for a long time in the moonlight, then Remy pushed himself off the pile of hay and left, without a word, breathing hard.
The next day he was gone.
