Chapter Eleven: I'm so tired of the monsters
April 1887
Charlotte cringed when she heard the gunshots outside her window. She quickly left her bed and walked to the window, peeking out through the shutters to see Silas standing in the sun with his shot gun clutched in his hands and the bright sunshine shining on the muscles of his arms. He had ripped the sleeves off of his chambray shirt because they had been tattered and stained with blood and Charlotte found herself staring quite often at those hard muscles beneath that dark skin.
Silas had been working outside, trying to gather what few eggs he could from the chicken coop for their breakfast, though they weren't laying well because food was scarce. Clearly his egg fetching mission had been interrupted by the two rabid lying dead.
Charlotte glanced over at Grace sound asleep in her cradle. How sad it was when a newborn babe could sleep through gunfire. Grace's short life had already been filled with gunfire. Charlotte smiled lovingly at her angel and then left the bedroom to go check on Silas, locking the bedroom door behind her. As far as she knew the rabid could not open doors but it made her feel better to know her daughter was safely locked away. She slipped the iron key into her pocket and made her way down the stairs.
They had been here together at the house for nearly two weeks and in that time Silas had been doing everything to keep she and Grace safe and fed. Charlotte longed to talk to Silas, to really get to know him, but the man seemed to have been working hard to keep a wall between them. Charlotte didn't know why that was and she didn't like it. Silas was so different than any other person she had ever known and she wasn't referring to his skin color. He was kind, gentle and soft spoken. There was a true tenderness and goodness to him that intrigued Charlotte. She had only ever known men to be harsh and cruel. They'd always been heavy handed and temperamental.
Charlotte stepped into the foyer just in time to meet Silas walking in the door. "Well hello there, Miss Charlotte." Silas said as he handed her the basket of eggs. Charlotte felt her heart sink when she realized there were only three. Three tiny eggs to feed them both.
"It ain't much I'm afraid." Silas admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck. Charlotte had had a lot of practice in making the best of a bad situation and she smiled brightly at Silas and propped the basket of eggs on her hip.
"They'll go wonderfully with the biscuits from last night and I do believe there may be a jar of canned apples in the back of the cellar."
Silas smiled back at her. A handsome, gentle smile that made Charlotte's heart beat just a little faster. Which was absurd of course. This man would never fall for a woman like her. Her husband had not even been dead for two full weeks and she had a sleeping newborn upstairs. She simply hoped that she and Silas could remain friends and help each other survive this terrible tragedy going on around them.
"Sounds like a real good meal to me, ma'am. Where's Little Grace?"
"Sleeping soundly." Charlotte replied with a smile, marveling at how Silas always seemed to be genuinely concerned about she and her daughter. A smile tugged at his full lips and he nodded,
"I'll go get those apples..." Charlotte shook her head and laid her hand on his bare forearm. She saw his deep brown eyes instantly go to her touch and his nostrils flared. Charlotte marveled at how pale her skin seemed against the brownness of his.
Quickly she pulled her hand away, embarrassed that she'd touched him. She quickly pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "I'll get the apples." She managed to somehow mumble out, avoiding meeting Silas's eyes.
"You be careful down there, ma'am." Silas warned and Charlotte thought she heard a tension in his voice. Though when she tried to look into his eyes he quickly turned away and grabbed a rifle that was beside the door. He placed the rifle in Charlotte's hand and Charlotte looked up into his eyes.
Something passed between them that Charlotte could not name. She saw the flicker in the brown depths of his gentle eyes. "I'll be careful." Charlotte assured him.
Silas nodded and took a step back away from her. "I'll go take care of that mess outside." With that he walked back out the door and was gone.
Charlotte sighed with frustration and confusion. What was it that she was feeling toward Silas? Was it simple gratitude because he had saved the life of she and her daughter? Was it simply desperation for human affection since he was the only other person around? Or was it something more?
Deciding that her mind was dwelling on things that were pointless, Charlotte made her way to the kitchen, feeling that familiar fear and unease work its way down her spine when she remembered Jackson and the way he had looked when she'd walked into this kitchen that night....... Silas had cleaned all the blood from the house and he had boarded up all the windows and all the doors to the outside, except the front door, but nothing was going to erase the memories of desperation and terror from Charlotte's mind. Those were permanently etched and she saw them all every time she closed her eyes.
Charlotte sat the basket of eggs on the counter before walking to her oven and lighting the coals. She would need the top burner to be hot in order to scramble up their eggs for breakfast. Once that was heating, Charlotte made her way back to the front door and stepped out into the sunshine.
Silas was nowhere to be seen and neither were the bodies of the rabid he had killed. She knew he was dragging them away from the house and would set fire to them to try to get rid of their smell. They had learned after Jackson and Britton that the other rabid could smell death and blood and it drew them in like vultures.
Charlotte clutched the rifle tight in her hand, though she honestly had no real idea how to use it... She hadn't told Silas that she didn't know and she knew she would have to. He would probably be more than happy to teach her how to shoot. She made her way to the side of the house and looked at the closed cellar door. She hadn't been down here since Jackson had turned into one of those rabid. There wasn't much down in the cellar ever since the money had begun to run out and they'd been running out of food but Charlotte remembered seeing a jar of canned apples the last time she'd been down there. She remembered because she had planned to make a pie for Jackson to celebrate the tobacco buyer's good news....
God that seemed like it had been a lifetime ago instead of only two weeks.
Charlotte grabbed the metal handle, slicked with dew, and pulled open the heavy cellar door. The rusted hinges let out a long mournful creaking in the quiet morning air. Charlotte shivered at the sound and then descended the rickety staircase into the dark. Her senses were on high alert listening for any of those horrible moaning sounds the rabid made and watching for any sign of movement in the dark.
She lit a kerosene lamp hanging by a hook on the wall at the bottom of the staircase and it illuminated the wide damp cellar. Charlotte made her way past the empty crates that used to be full of food and to the shelves that contained a variety of empty jars and tools.
She reached through the dust and cobwebs to the back of the shelves and smiled when she found that jar of canned apples she had remembered being back here. She picked them up and felt her mouth watering at the thought of biting in to their sweetness.
She had always loved cooking and eating and watching others enjoy what she cooked. Jackson had always praised her cooking skills. That had always been the one and only thing she had ever done right in his harsh eyes.
Charlotte was about to turn and make her way back out the cellar when she heard a chuckle behind her and the rickety staircase squeaked.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
Charlotte felt her heart begin to pound at the sound of the man's voice. Her legs were heavy as she forced herself to turn. Standing there at the bottom of the staircase was a man. A dirty, bearded man and he was leering at her. His pale blue eyes were narrow and full of an evil light as he leered at her. A sneer bulled back his lips to reveal his rotten, broken teeth.
"Who are you?" Charlotte whispered, her voice shaking.
"That aint' important." The man replied with a shrug as he took steps across the muddy ground toward her. "I heard gunshots and came to join the party, never thought I'd find me a pretty woman all alone...."
Charlotte raised the rifle, hating the way it shook in her trembling hands. "Stop right there!" she warned. "I'll shoot you."
"I don't think you will." The man said without fear as he grabbed the barrel of the rifle and then jerked it from Charlotte's hands. "Are you as lonely as I am?" he asked as he stepped closer and his foul breath washed over Charlotte's face. She took quick steps backward but soon she was pressed against the shelves and could move no further.
The man closed in on her. "Stop!" she ordered as tears filled her eyes. Charlotte's blood froze as he chuckled. She had been so worried about rabid monsters that she had forgotten about this kind. He grabbed her arm and jerked her to him, throwing her body against his and pressing his arousal into her stomach.
Charlotte gagged as she fought in vain against him. He was big and strong and she had never been a fighter. This is what men did. This is what they really were. They took what they wanted without asking and with no concern for who they hurt to get it. Men were rough, mean and controlling.
He lowered his mouth to hers and Charlotte screamed against his lips as his hand closed around her breast and squeezed roughly, her swollen, milk filled breasts filling with pain.
The man shoved her to the ground, covering her body with his as his foul tasting tongue was thrust into her mouth. Charlotte punched him in the temple and he roared with anger and swung his fist, connecting hard with her mouth, causing her head to explode with pain and stars to fill her eyes. Charlotte could taste the blood filling her mouth as the man shoved her skirts up and ripped down her underclothes.
She found her voice then, while she was helpless to stop him she could scream and pray that maybe, just maybe, Silas would hear her and come.
"Help! Silas! Help me!!" she screamed and the man growled and covered her bloody mouth with his dirty hand.
It became hard to breathe as his hand was large and also covered her nose. Charlotte fought against him, fighting to get even one good breath as the man free his arousal from his stained trousers and then stuck his hand against the curls between her legs.
Charlotte's struggles were in vain but she struggled anyway, only wanting this to end. To close her eyes and open them again to find herself back in her room with her sleeping daughter.
Suddenly a roar of rage that Charlotte was certain hadn't come from her attacker filled the cellar and the man on top of her was suddenly gone. Charlotte saw him fly through the air, landing with a thud against the wall, knocking down the shelves that had been there.
Silas had come. He had his gun trained on the chest of her attacker as he stood protectively over her, shielding her trembling body.
"Who the hell are you?" the man demanded, his fists clenching.
"I'm the man that's only gonna ask you one time to get out of here."
"Now dammit, it's getting harder and harder to find a pretty woman that ain't one of those monsters and I'm gonna have her. Ain't no nigger gonna tell me I can't."
Charlotte sat up and pushed herself to her feet, staying behind Silas and the comfort that knowing he was here provided, though she was still terrified. Sure he had his shotgun but that man had a pistol on his side. And Silas was a kind and gentle man...this man was not.
"I said I would ask you one time to leave. Now I'm telling you to leave and not ever come back here again."
"Dammit!" the man said angrily, his ugly face contorting with rage. "I won't have some nigger standing between me and what I want." The man lunged them, grabbing the barrel of the shotgun and causing the shot to go wild and spray across the ceiling. He stepped in close and hit Silas hard in the side of the head and then shoved him backward.
Silas fell to the ground, the man falling with him as they wrestled over the gun. Charlotte's heart was frozen with fear as she watched them. Each time the man punched Silas, Charlotte felt the pain herself.
After several tense minutes of struggling it was the other man that rose up, the ten gauge held tight in his hands. He grinned as he pressed the weapon tight against Silas's chest.
"Say goodbye to your little nigger, darling, because I'm fixin' to send him straight to hell." The man growled. Charlotte didn't even think about what she did next, it seemed the only time she could find bravery was when she didn't think about it.
She grabbed a metal drill press that had fallen onto the floor when Silas's body had knocked over the shelves and she leapt for the man, swinging that heavy hunk of iron as hard as she could and feeling it connect with a resounding thudding crack against his skull.
With a grunt the man's legs crumbled and he collapsed to the ground. Silas quickly shoved him away and grabbed the shot gun, firing a quick shot into the man's back as he lay there on the dirty ground.
Charlotte's bravery was gone. Her body hurt from the man's abuse, her head was pounding, her mouth was still bleeding and she felt move violated and vulnerable than she had ever felt before. She dropped the drill press to the ground and wrapped her arms tight around herself, squeezing her eyes tight and willing the horror of the world to just go away.
***
Silas stared down at the dead man and felt his stomach turn. He'd just taken a human life. Silas had never done that before. While Charlotte's hit to his head might have been enough to kill the man it hadn't been enough to satisfy Silas. He'd wanted to kill the man himself.
Silas said a quick prayer to God for forgiveness and then turned his attention to Charlotte. He was about to speak when he saw the way she was holding herself tight and mumbling with her eyes squeezed shut and his words died on his tongue.
Damn this world they were living in to the fiery pits of hell. No woman as soft and good as this one should have to endure what she'd had to endure in the last few weeks. From rabid monsters to men who thought they could do as they pleased to her body simply because she was a woman. It made Silas's blood boil.
He slid the sling on his shotgun over his shoulder and gently reached out his hands for her, caressing her arms gently with his fingertips. She jumped and her light green eyes widened with fear as she looked up at him, but then her eyes filled with tears and she flung herself into Silas's arms, clinging to him with what could only be described as desperation.
Silas lifted her up, cradling her against his chest the way a husband would his new bride and he kissed her dark hair tenderly as she wrapped herself against him.
"It's okay now, Miss Charlotte. I'm here. As long as I live and breathe I won't let anything else bad happen to you."
It was a promise he meant with all his heart even if it wasn't one he knew for sure he'd be able to keep. His heart had been lost to this woman the first time he'd laid eyes on her and while he knew they couldn't be together, that wouldn't stop him from taking care of her and that angel Grace.
Charlotte said nothing, simply buried her face in his chest and Silas carried her up and out of the cellar. He used his foot to kick the cellar door closed, hoping that would keep the smell of blood down until he had time to dispose of the man's body.
Silas carried Charlotte into the house, hating the way she was trembling against him. He stepped into the house, closing and locking the door behind him. Silas carried her up the grand staircase to her bedroom and realized the door was locked.
"Miss Charlotte, ma'am, I need the key." Without saying a word and without pulling her face away from his chest, she slid her hand into her pocket and deposited the key into his waiting hand. Silas opened the door and stepped into the room, glancing at Grace who was still sound asleep in her cradle, swaddled in a soft blanket.
"Grace?" Charlotte whispered, her voice muffled against him. Silas gave her a squeeze and kissed her hair gently.
"She still sleeping soundly just the way you left her." He assured her. Silas carried Charlotte to the bed and tried to lay her down but she clung to him and whimpered.
"Please! Please I need to feel you holding me...."
Silas felt that little voice clear down in his soul. God how he longed he could be her man. He would keep her safe. He would never hurt her the way she'd been hurt in her life. He didn't know the details but he knew an abused woman when he saw one. He would make sure that she and Little Grace knew only the good a man could bring for the rest of his life.... But he couldn't.
He was a black man, Charlotte was a white woman, that alone was an immense barrier between them. He was a poor man, a former slave, and she was the widow of a rich man.... Silas knew that the desires of his heart could never be made real and that made him incredibly sad.
"Miss Charlotte, I can't.. It wouldn't be proper."
"I don't care about proper." She whispered, her face pulling back and her eyes looking into his, pleading with him. "I want you to hold me, Silas, please.... You are so different from what I've always known before... Just hold me."
Silas knew he couldn't refuse her. Not with those pale green eyes looking into his so deeply. He kept her body pulled against him as he got into the bed and slid beneath the covers. Charlotte laid her body long against his, her arm wrapped around her waist and her head resting on his chest. He knew she'd be able to hear the way his heart thundered and he wondered if she would understand why.
"I'm so tired of monsters..." Charlotte whispered in a broken voice. Silas stroked her long brown hair and swallowed hard.
"I won't never let another monster hurt you, Miss Charlotte. You or Little Grace. Now get you some rest."
"Will you stay while I sleep?"
"I'll be here."