Promise of Yesterday Read Free Page B

she’d set free a wagon full of slaves captured in Gettysburg. Even on the run he’d heard the stories. Among blacks, stories of heroism were transferred from one wagging tongue to another, faster than any mail service.
    He had delayed heading west to Mercersburg, where his mama and sister lived, in order to meet Marylu Biloxi. Chance had brought him face-to-face with Cooper the day he’d gotten off the train. It had taken Chester a week to discover that the man knew Marylu. He even lived in a little house out back of the one Marylu lived in with her friend and employer, Jenny McGreary. As soon as Cooper discovered his passion for building furniture and such, the old man had taken him straight to the owner of Antrim House and got him a job. Mr. Shillito’s recent purchase of the hotel, and his plans to renovate, meant job security.
    Chester shifted his weight and squinted out the window of his little room on the first floor of Antrim House. He reviewed his meeting with Marylu. He had been surprised at her beauty. High cheekbones. Moonlit-night skin that set off the glow in her eyes, the color of a golden pancake. But her sass had brought his smile out of hiding, and once he felt the grin on his lips, it seemed he couldn’t stop smiling. His spirits had lifted and soared. A feeling he’d not felt for a long time.
    He blinked and reached for his worn shirt, buttoning it on as he crossed the room. He needed to get started on the tables and chairs Mr. Shillito had requested. He finished the last buttonhole and swung the door wide.
    A woman stood in the hallway, her back to him, but Chester’s heart slammed against his chest as Marylu Biloxi threw a questioning glance over her shoulder. When their eyes met, she turned and put a hand to her chest. “What you doing here?”

three
    Marylu dropped her hand. “You ‘bout made my heart stop.”
    Chester took note of her bright blue dress and crisp white apron, not to mention the curves filling out the clothing in all the right places. He wondered if her statement meant his presence stirred something in her or if he’d spooked her. He donned an imaginary hat and gave her a deep bow.
    “Mr. Shillito didn’t tell me you were the one he’d hired.”
    Chester pressed his lips together and let the sparkle shine in his eyes, then punctuated the moment with a quick shrug.
    “You best be knowing how to work real hard.”
    His mind drifted to the many scars across his back, not that he’d been afraid of work or ever caught shirking the rows in the fields down south. No, the lashes had been a matter of pleasing a very unpleasable master. He must have let the melancholy slip into his expression, because Marylu’s eyes grew softer.
    “I’m right sure you know all there is to know about hard work.”
    To this he bobbed his head. He knew about running, too. Running hard and long and trying to outpace howling dogs on four legs. He knew the racing heart and the prickle of cold sweat and the twist of dread that clinched the gut tighter as each howl got closer and the voices of his pursuers louder.
    She put a hand on his arm, and he gave himself a mental shake.
    “Make a list of what you need to make room five right again. Drunk man smashed it up pretty bad, and Mr. Shillito wants it put right.”
    Chester stood straight as a stick, stuck out his chest, and saluted.
    She frowned and mocked anger. “Don’t you be forgettin’ it either, or I’ll have your hide.”
    He watched her go, aware of her in a way that was sure to bring him trouble. How could he think for a minute to pin his hopes of settling down on a woman whose soul showed more bravery and courage than he could ever hope to muster?
    The man was haunted, to be sure. Marylu knew the interpretation of the expression on Chester’s face. She’d seen it a thousand times as she’d helped Miss Jenny’s father feed the slaves that came to them on those dark nights, long ago. Pain and suffering. Fear so deep it cut her to