Read Online Diann Ducharme by The Outer Banks House (v5) - Free Book Online

throat.
    “Can’t exactly tell you that,” he said.
    I looked off to the Croatan Sound, through the line of old barracks that lined the shore. The water shone so bright through the dark patches that I had to turn away. I closed my eyes for a second so I could think a bit more. It sounded like he was mixed up in one of those secret clans of men that were cropping up around the South. Bunch of sore losers, banded together in fear.
    I swallowed a hunk of spit that had some trouble going down the pipe. “Well, if I get your meaning right, the freedmen on this island have riled you all in some way?”
    “I guess I need to explain it all to you,” he huffed, and shook his head. “After the war, the native white folks here needed our help. They wanted their land back, because the good-for-nothing runaways just wouldn’t leave. Thought the land was theirs, fair and square. But it never was.
It never was, Ben.”
He leaned in so close to me I could see his red nosehairs. “The natives want the island to be like it used to be, without so many blue-blasted Negroes all over the place, taking what few jobs are out here and planting land meant for them, for their children. It’s time for them all to go.”
    I fought down the urge to just ride away, leave him in the dust. Yet on he went, and with a smile on his face, too. “Our interest in this colony paid off. A real uppity darkie has come to our attention.” He started snickering, then lowered his voice, even though not a soul was about. “Friends of mine have been looking out for this man for years now, and there he sat, in plain view. But here’s the best part—fromwhat I’ve gathered, all the runaways follow him around like he’s made of chitlins and corn pone. If he goes, they all go. The so-called Freedmen’s Colony will be done for good, and things will be turning in the right direction.”
    “But where will they go? What will they do?” I asked, my brain mired in a fog that wouldn’t rise.
    He snorted. “I don’t give two handfuls of horse shit where they end up, as long as they’re back on the state’s plantations doing work that needs doing. This is a small island. A
family
island. It’s about justice for North Carolina.”
    “And the man you’re after? What of him?”
    His eyes took in the little rows of houses through the dust from the horses’ hooves. “We’ll get
our
justice, too. It’s been a long time coming now.” He spit out a hunk of tobacky juice and stared at me with squinty eyes, not answering me. “If you tell anyone about this little talk, white folks included, I won’t be pleased—and I don’t have to tell you that my friends are not a group of men to disappoint. But if you help me out when I need your services this summer, and keep real quiet, I’ll put in a word for you with Dexter Stetson. He’s the lighthouse construction supervisor. Choosing his crew as we speak, no doubt.”
    I started to sweat bad, but not from the heat. I already knew that a crew was getting raised—word travels fast around here—but just the mention of his knowing Mister Stetson raised my interest. I had a gnawing feeling this was how things got done in the big world, knowing folks that mattered.
    He watched me careful as he said, “I heard they need a crew to start building their own barracks and blacksmith shop, to get the site ready for work in the fall. And they’ll need good local men to build the crane, and the lightering boats and wharf. I thought of you right away.”
    It was bad business, but the scenario sounded good to me, even so. Government paychecks steady in the mail. Two solid years of nonstop work, easy. They were laboring jobs, but still. I could work my way up to the better ones.
    I gripped the reins so hard the leather almost cut my skin. “What sort of ’services’ would you have me do, to get me such a job? I ain’t a man-napper, if that’s what you’re after.”
    He wiped his brow with a crisp hankie, then looked down