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“I did, but my love for her and hers for me mattered more in my mind.”
“But not in Hazel’s mind?”
“No. She was willing to marry anyone to give her children a future and I understood her decision, I just didn’t agree. I’d grown up enslaved, barefoot, and hungry. For many years, running away only changed the enslaved parts of my life. However, I was convinced that given the chance, I’d be able to provide for her, but the Creole had what she needed at the time—wealth, agood name, a home, access to education for her future children.”
“No wonder her menfolk ran you out of town.”
“I was just grateful they let me leave with my life. The Moreau family was furious with me, especially her mother.” He added, “Hazel wasn’t supposed to tell me about the plan, so don’t let on that I told you.”
Brax nodded and mulled over his father’s story. It provided some answers to his questions, but there was still more to unravel. How long would the plan continue? Were Raven and the cousins being forced to participate, or were they willingly contributing? “The family is talking about taking revenge on the Pinkerton. Do you agree with them?”
“As a churchgoing man, no. But as a formerly enslaved Black man whose freedom may be taken away by Welch’s lying, I hope they send her to hell.”
Brax understood his father’s stance and admitted he agreed. “And for her to send us into South Carolina, of all places. Is she aware of what’s happening there?”
“Why should she care?” his father asked. “It’s not as if the supremacists are killing her kind.”
Dusk had given way to night, and the moon and stars were out.
His father stood. “It’s late and been an awfully long day. I’m going to bed.”
Brax understood. “Good night, Da. I’ll be in shortly.”
His father went inside and Brax sat in the darkness thinking about all he’d heard, and about Raven Moreau. He thought he better understood the source of her challenging personality. She and her family hadn’t been handed the soft, uneventful life his family had provided him. There’d been no servants, balls, or tutors, just a day-to-day struggle to carve out a place in a world designed to ensure they failed. Yet Miss Fanny had waded into the mire and brought into being a plan that circumvented that design. Although he and Raven were unevenly yoked and probably would never see each other again after this was all over, his fascination with her continued to grow.
Upstairs in Hazel’s bedroom, Raven sat in one of the chairs while her mother sat on the bench of her mirrored vanity table and prepared her hair for sleeping. As she brushed and braided the oiled strands, the sight brought back to Raven memories of her and her sister, Avery, watching their mother going through the same ritual when they were small. Her mother had been younger back then, and in Raven’s eyes the most beautiful woman in the world. She remembered how they’d used the time together to talk about their day, share laughter and family gossip. There’d been life lessons, too, andher mother’s dreams for their future. In those days, Raven had no idea that future would include Welch or the Steele men. She wanted to ask about her mother’s relationship with Harrison Steele, but didn’t want to be chastised for sticking her nose in her mother’s business, so she waited for a way to start the conversation.
“So did all the extra drawings of Detective Welch go out?” Raven asked.
“Yes. Hopefully, it won’t take long for one of them to bear fruit. I sent one along to my web as well.”
Her web, formed before and after the war, consisted of women from all walks of life who’d met each other via churches, hairdressers, and other places women gathered, such as business associations and the various markets in the city. They secretly passed vital information, both political and personal, impacting the well-being of the communities of color. Some were prominent women, while others operated in New Orleans’s shadowy underworld. “Do you think that copy of the Declaration would be worth something if we could duplicate it and arrange a sale?”
“I’m not sure, but it is something I’m wondering about also. We do know a couple of excellent forgers. I’m not sure how long making a copy of it might take though, or how long we’d have to turn the original over to Welch. Let’s wait until we see how this unfolds first. So, how did the dinner go with Braxton?”
“Let’s call it interesting.” It would be some time before she got over the dessert comment, and the lust she’d been left with. Thinking back on the moment made the heat rise all over again. “He’s quite different from the men I know. He has servants and owns ships.”
Her mother eyed her in the mirror. “Harrison said his wife had wealthy parents.”
“And they left everything to his son.”
“I suppose you want to know about me and Harrison?”
Her mother had always been able to read the minds of her children. “I do, but I didn’t want to get smacked for being nosy.”
That earned her a smile. “Okay, this is what happened.” And she told Raven the story.
When she finished, Raven asked, “How angry were you?”
“Angry enough to want him tossed into the Mississippi with boulders tied to his ankles. He messed up everything. I don’t ever remember Mama being so upset.” She paused for a moment, as if thinking back. “I did love him though. So much. But love won’t pay the grocer, or help establish a business, or put a family member who’s passing through Harvard Medical School.”
Raven agreed. Fanny’s Plan had provided so much for Moreaux on both sides of the color divide, and the sacrifices had been many. Her mother and Harrison were just one example.And Lacie and Renay’s youngest sibling, Antoine, was another example. Fair enough to pass as White, he was currently a student at Harvard Medical School, and on a path to success that would probably have him marrying outside the race in order to keep the ruse going. In doing so, he might never be able to interact publicly with his family again. His mother, Eden, while bereft at the idea of possibly losing her son, had come to grips with that reality, and as Antoine pointed out through his tears on the morning he left New Orleans for Cambridge last year, no matter whom he married, his children and their children would always carry the Moreau blood in their veins.
“And now?” Raven asked. “How do you feel about him?”
“At first, seeing him after all these years made me angry all over again, but obviously things happen the way they were supposed to. Had I married that day, I wouldn’t have met the man responsible for the most precious gifts life’s ever given me—you and Avery.”
That filled Raven’s heart.
