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she’s caught a bad chill and must rest for a week or so. If not, she’s welcome to stay here with me and my wife.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Doctor. I do appreciate your kindness. I’m traveling to San Antonio, but I shall stay at the hotel until Gincie is well.”
    From the cot Gincie’s voice came strong and clear. “No, you go on ahead without me. I’ll manage fine. Besides, old Gincie ain’t too happy to be goin’ to San Antonio anyway.”
    Laurel knelt by the cot, aware of Duvalier’s eyes upon her. “I can’t leave you here. I won’t. When you’re better, you’re coming with me or we’ll make arrangements to send you back to New Orleans.”
    Gincie shook her head tiredly. “I’m too sick. You have to go and you know it. Time to make peace.”
    Laurel realized the truth in Gincie’s words. She must see her uncle before he died. It was up to her to put things right. She felt the doctor would care for Gincie, but she wasn’t ready to leave at that moment. She had to know Gincie would be all right. Lavinia was really the one who needed to reach San Antonio.
    Patting Gincie’s hand, she said to the woman, “I’ll stop by in the morning to see how you’re doing.”
    On the return trip to town Duvalier sat with a perplexed look on his face while Lavinia twisted a kerchief in her hands. “You treat your slave very well,” he said to Laurel, sounding surprised.
    “Gincie isn’t my slave. She’s free and has been since I freed her last year. I personally don’t believe in slavery. Gincie stays with me because she loves me, and I love her.”
    Duvalier cocked an eyebrow. “Such liberal thinking might get you into trouble in the South.”
    Laurel shrugged her blue-satin-clad shoulders. “My ideas about slavery are Northern in concept, probably because I was schooled in the East, but love and kindness are universal.”
    He shot her another surprised but appraising glance.
    Lavinia fidgeted. “Can we go any faster?” she asked. “I should like to rest.”
    “We’ll be at the hotel soon, Miss Malone.”
    Laurel didn’t miss the assessing glance he threw at Lavinia. Soon the carriage stopped in front of the red-brick Garland Hotel. Lavinia left the carriage in a flurry of skirts and hurried inside. Laurel started to follow but stopped and lingered on the street, still holding Duvalier’s proffered hand.
    “Thank you for taking Gincie to the doctor. That was kind of you. Doctor Gaston seems a competent man.”
    Tony nodded. “Gaston was one of my father’s slaves. He took care of all the sick on Petit Coteau. My father realized Gaston had a gift for healing. He freed him and sent Gaston north to medical school. We thought Gaston would stay and practice up there, but he didn’t. Instead he returned home, a free man, and practices among his own people. Do believe me when I say that he is the best physician I’ve ever known.”
    Now it was Laurel’s turn to be surprised. She had assumed Tony Duvalier had no heart, but she was now learning that he did. She wasn’t so sure she liked knowing this fact. It made her much more vulnerable to him.
    She felt the warmth of his hand, then the pressure of his lips on her flesh.
    “I will see you soon,” he said confidently, almost as if he knew something she didn’t. Then he entered the carriage. She watched as he drove away, her heart tripping to the beat of the carriage wheels. She would have stayed staring at the street except Lavinia came out of the hotel and glared at her.
    “Come on, Laurel. I can’t register without you, and I don’t want to be in public for too long a time. Remember this is St. Julian territory.”
    “Yes, yes,” Laurel said and reluctantly went inside with her cousin. She had forgotten that.
    ~ ~ ~

    “Then I suppose I shall have to return home without you.”
    Laurel noticed that Lavinia sounded very relieved the next morning when she told her that she would have to travel to Texas alone. As Lavinia sipped her tea,