Fifteen
She carried the blood of a Mississippi gambler in her veins. No one could play the game of poker better than Kitty Russell. Long ago, she had learned to cover up shock and surprise at the hand dealt her, with the use of a benign expression and air of composure. Still, she felt the tips of her ears flame and was glad for the soft auburn tendrils that hid them from view.
"Please, sit down my dear, it is too warm today to do more than sip tea and converse on pleasantries." A black maid exited the back door of the home, and approached them. She was carrying a tray holding a large lead crystal carafe filled with green liquid and ice and tall glasses garnished by lemon slices.
"Ahhh … Miss Effie, you read my mind, just what my spirit was craving." To Kitty he said, "Madam, your choice, Grandmother's tea or mine?"
Regina Louisa Barger smiled, "Beau, even I no longer desire my tea, when you present such an agreeable alternative."
Looking at her hostess, it was hard to imagine Mrs. Barger, as anything other than the charming picture she presented. The thought came to her that perhaps the old woman, was of no relation to the notorious Colonel Barger. After all Barger wasn't an uncommon name. Kitty relaxed a bit. The drink was cool and refreshing, the breeze balmy but pleasant, and the elderly woman slightly, but charmingly senile.
When they had all been served and had taken several sips of the spiked tea, Mrs. Barger said, "Beau tells me your people come from Wethersfield, Georgia. Our home is near Macon, but I had a dear friend who married a gentleman from Spaulding, perhaps you know of his family, I do believe they were prominent citizens of Telfair County, settling near Adams, or was it Alberton? Their name is Yates, Harland is his name and Evangeline was hers, she passed on several years before the war…" she lowered her voice in a confidential tone,"Bright's Disease …" Her voice returned to normal, "they had a daughter, Constance who married a young man from Abbesville, I recollect he was a lawyer and entered into politics, they were blessed with a son and I do believe the boy would be about your age, of course he fought valiantly in the war, and thankfully survived the conflict. I wonder dear, do you know him?"
"Grandmother", Beau laughed, "What was the son's name?"
Regina Louisa giggled, and it was like the tinkling of wind chimes,"That would help, wouldn't it?" She thought for a moment, "It escapes me at present, that's how it is when you are old, ideas and memories fly in and out like bats in a belfry." She put her spectacles up to her eyes again and studied Kitty's tea gown, "Such a sweet dress, I've always admired a shepherd's check … your gown reminds me of something, I feel as if I have seen it before." A very slight frown changed the contour of her features. "I know … I believe I had a similar gown when I was a girl, such a pretty frock…" She was lost in that thought for a moment.
Beau exchanged an indulgent smile with Kitty. "She's right you know,`bats in the bell tower."
Mrs. Barger reached out and swatted Beaumont on the arm. "It's acceptable when I say it, it is disrespectful when you do, young man."
"Yes, Grandmother." He replied with deferential humor.
Mrs. Barger stared for a moment in space, and then asked abruptly,"What do you think of Beau's cottage? He built it for me, you know, although he would never admit it. He has long tried to tempt me from the old family homestead. Two springs ago, he wrote me a long letter, telling me about his new home, `Sumerhaven' he called it. I don't mind saying it is a little too modern for my tastes, the old ways suit me fine, just as the new ways suit Beau."
The old woman's thoughts were flighty and it took some effort to keep up with the conversation and eventually Kitty found it easiest to just smile and nod in agreement every so often. The first pitcher of iced tea was consumed and they were working on a second. It was as Regina Louisa was talking about another girlhood friend of hers named, Bethesheba Shortbody, that the well-spoken black man emerged from the house and approached Beaumont. From the corner of her eye, Kitty saw the handsome man's features turn grim. He replied to the servant in an angry hiss, "I've told them not to come here, if they want to talk business they knows where my offices are."
Sebastian leaned in closer saying something to Davis that Kitty couldn't hear.
"I won't have it!" Beaumont replied, jumping to his feet.
"Sir, he isn't going to leave until he's talked with you."
"There is nothing either of them could say that would be of interest to me."
"Sir, I was told, it concerns a change in certain political interests you are involved with."
Beaumont's body tensed, he clenched and unclenched his fists and then finally agreed, "Very well." He turned to Kitty and lifted the shadows from his face. "My dear, I'm sorry we will have to draw this visit to a close. A business matter has come up, one, try as I might, I am unable to avoid." He nodded at the servant. "Sebastian will see you home. Again, I sincerely apologize my dear." He bowed and then turned to enter his house.
"Beaumont Davis!" His grandmother called, and pounded the wooden porch with her cane to add emphasis to her words. "I won't hear of such rudeness." She gave Kitty a smile; "Mrs. Kent is welcomed to stay as long as she wishes." But, Beaumont, was already in the house and the door had closed.
She rose to her feet, "Mrs. Barger, I don't want to overstay my welcome, perhaps we can continue our visit another time." Kitty was more than ready to return to the hot little house and Matt's side.
Sebastian moved to the forefront, "Madam, the carriage is waiting." His tone implied a command, one Kitty was happy to obey. She followed him along the wrap around porch to the front of the house and couldn't help but notice two handsome horses, tied to the fancy cast iron hitching rail. The animals had been ridden hard, for their coats were lathered, and their breathing was heavy. She noted the leather tact they wore, was richly appointed and vaguely military in style. She wondered silently, who the riders of such steeds might be, and the speculation added substance to her suspicions.
Perhaps seeing the direction of her gaze and her unspoken questions added haste to Sebastian's cause. For he hurried her into the carriage and before she knew it they were leaving the Davis estate. Her head was a little foggy from the spiked tea, but she was certain of one thing. For her own best interests and Matt Dillon's, it would be unwise to plan a return visit to Beaumont's Summerhaven.
GS GS GS GS
The little house on Lincoln Street was still warm. Lilly had soup cooking on the stove, adding steam to the already muggy kitchen. A loaf of sliced bread sat on the table and the places were set for supper. "Is he up yet?" Kitty asked as she entered the room.
"I was just gettin' ready to roust him." Lilly replied, making a move toward Dillon's bedroom.
Kitty put up a hand to stop her, "I'll take care of Matt."
GS GS GS GS
Where reality and dreams come together, was where Matt Dillon found himself. The woman with the red hair was with him, laughing into his face with such warmth, that it filled his soul. His mind was again whole. Between he and the woman, thoughts were exchanged, devoted promises were shared and they held tight together in a loving embrace. The pull to linger there was intense, and he would have fought to stay, had not reality provided him with the living source of his yearnings. Her voice, dearer than in his dreams, her touch gentle and affectionate, true and tender, "Time to wake up, Cowboy."
He felt the slight shift of her weight, sitting beside him on the bed. Her hand touched his neck and her finger tickled his ear. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, she smiled, and the warmth intensified,"Kit-ttyy." He said, but the free flowing words of his dream were gone and frustration at his condition replaced the warmth, but not for long.
"Hello." She said and his mind flashed memories too fleeting to grasp. "Time to get up sleepy-head." He stared into her face, eyes wide, heart open, and it was the true beginning to the healing of his broken mind.
She felt it too. The energy was electric, the connection as real as it had ever been. "Matt." She said and her voice was a whisper for the necessity of the spoken word was lost.
The connection drew her closer and closer until their lips met in a kiss so light it might not have been, for she pulled back, afraid it was too soon to add these emotions to his fragile state. Still their eyes held tight, and there was no doubting, the meaning of the bond.
They may have remained like that, each drawing energy, the one from the other, for a long time, had not the shrill voice of Lilly interrupted their shared reverie. "I gots supper on the table, best you come eat it now, afore it aint no good no more."
FYI - (1800's - English and American cookbooks show us that tea has been served cold at least since the early nineteenth century, when cold green tea punches, that were heavily spiked with liquor, were popularized. The oldest recipes in print are made with green tea and not black tea and were called punches. The tea punches went by names such as Regent's Punch, named after George IV, the English prince regent between 1811 until 1820, and king from 1820 to 1830.)