Chapter 47
Columbia
August 1854
Every bone in Isabelle’s body ached, but her heart was full. Alden had somehow acquired a dozen pillows, and he’d propped her up on all of them so she could rest while they talked. Then he brought over her lockbox and papers and the clothing left in the hotel room across the street.
Victor had assaulted her body, but it was the oddest thing. All the fear she’d had pent up inside her had dissipated earlier that day. As an adult, in the light of truth, she finally saw Victor Duvall for what he really was—a bitter, troubled, controlling man who would never be happy, no matter how many slaves he acquired for his kingdom.
A man who no longer held any power over her.
After Alden left to retrieve the last of her things, Isaac hopped onto the end of the bed. “Can we talk now?”
“Certainly.” She smiled. “If you’ll do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
“Somewhere in the stack of things Alden brought over is a special blanket.”
He searched through the pile until he found it, and she held her memories on her lap, stitched together with teal and ivory.
“Isaac,”—she took a deep breath—“I’m afraid your mother wasn’t a princess. Nor did she run away with another slave.”
He eyed her curiously. “How do you know?”
Tears began filling her eyes again. She prayed he wouldn’t reject her when he discovered the truth. “Because I’m your mother. I birthed you when I was fourteen.”
He inched closer to her, studying her face in confusion. “You’re my mother?”
Isabelle braced herself for his disappointment. “I’m so sorry.”
He swung his arms around her neck, hugging her. “I’m not sorry.” Then he stepped away, concern draining away his grin. “Did I hurt you?”
“You haven’t hurt me at all.” Instead, joy washed over her pain, flooding the channels of grief carved inside her. “I never meant to leave you. Mrs. Duvall told me you were dead.”
Isaac shook his head. “She’s a wicked woman.”
“I believe you’re right.” She held out the blanket. “I made this for you, before you were born.”
He reached out his hand slowly. Reverently. “You made it for me?”
When she nodded, he clutched it to his chest. “No one’s ever made anything just for me before.”
“I’d like to make you lots of things in the future.”
“You don’t have to make me anything else.” He looked down at the blanket as if it were crocheted with strands of gold. “I always wanted to have a mother just like you.”
She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “And I could not be prouder to have you as my son.”
When she pulled him close to her again, all the years lost between them seemed to disappear into tears and laughter.
Minutes later, Alden stepped back into the room, carrying her valise filled with sundries. He glanced at the two of them. “You’re both smiling.”
“We’ve been talking,” Isaac said, scooting away.
She wanted to reach for him, as if he might vanish again, but he knew the truth now and wanted to stay with her.
Alden searched her face. “I see.”
Isaac hopped off the bed. “Miss Labrie is my mother.”
Alden smiled with them. “I know.”
“How did you know?” Isabelle asked.
“Your eyes.”
Isabelle clasped her hands together. “I have a proposition to make.”
Alden set the bag on the dressing table and collapsed into a chair. “I don’t know if I can handle any more propositions.”
“It’s an important one,” she said. “Instead of going back to Sacramento, I’ve decided to go to Vancouver Island with the other freed slaves. And I—I would like to take Isaac with me.”
Alden leaned toward her. “You don’t have to worry about Victor. Judah will make sure he’s on that ship going east.”
“But he might return one day, and if he did—I can’t bear to think of him taking back my son.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “I think the three of us need to stick together. Here in California.”
Alden nodded. “I agree.”
But Alden didn’t meant it. One day he would meet a woman whom he’d want to marry. He wouldn’t want to be burdened with her too. “In Victor’s eyes—and others here—Isaac and I will always be slaves.”
“I don’t see a slave when I look at either of you,” Alden said, glancing at both of them. “In Isaac, I see a boy who is smart and kind and funny. He’s one of the hardest-working fellows I know and a faithful friend.”
Her heart pounded as his gaze settled on her again. “When I look at you, Isabelle, I see a beautiful, genteel woman who is capable and strong. A woman I’d be deeply honored to have as my wife.”
She drank in Alden’s words, savoring every one, but she couldn’t allow him to give up his future for her. “You don’t have to be a martyr, Alden.”
“A martyr?” His eyebrows climbed with his question, and then he left his chair, sitting on the bed beside her. “I don’t think you understand.”
“But I do—”
He turned back toward Isaac. “Do you mind if we have a moment?”
Isaac groaned. “You never let me stay around for the important things.”
“I actually need your help.” He leaned down beside him, whispering as if she couldn’t hear. “Right now, I need a moment to convince your mother to marry me.”
Isaac eyed Alden. Then he picked up his book. “I suppose I can read a few more pages in the parlor, but don’t take all night. She and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
He closed the door behind him, and Alden took her hand.
“Isabelle.” He knelt before her. “My love for you is stronger than the quartz threaded through these mountains, and it’s as endless as the gold embedded in them. If you don’t feel the same about me, I understand, but if you do, it would be the greatest privilege for me to be your husband.”
“I have Negro blood running through me,” she reminded him, as if he’d forgotten. She might be proud of her ancestry, but every child they had, if they had any children, could have Isaac’s brown skin.
“I love you and every ounce of blood flowing through your veins.” He took her hand. “I will care for Isaac as my son and any other children that God may bless us with.”
As she pulled his hand close to her heart, she smiled. “Then I would be honored to be your wife as well.”
Her face warmed as he leaned closer to her, whispering. “I don’t want either of us to hide in the shadows anymore.”
When he kissed her, the storm raging through her began to settle, her heart finding calm in the safety of his affection. Even the pain from her wounds was soothed in his love.
Isaac cleared his throat by the door. “Are you two done yet?”
“Not exactly.” Alden stepped away, but his gaze was still locked on her.
“I’m hungry for oysters.”
They all laughed. “I suppose we could find some in this town,” Alden said.
Isaac’s nose crinkled. “I sure hope you don’t keep kissing like that.”
Alden put his arm around Isaac’s shoulders. Then he glanced back over his shoulder like a kid, conspiring with her in his wink.
She closed her eye again as she rested back against the pillows.
Mother. Wife. Guardian of truth and light. She would step boldly into this new life, embracing the love of her family and these beautiful new names.
No longer was she alone.