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“That will be fine, thank you. I want to shave first though.”

Harrison asked, “You want me to cut your hair?”

Brax nodded.

“Then let’s go get started. There’s a lamp in the room Hazel and I are using.”

Raven wondered what he would look like with a clean-shaven face. His rakish beard and mustache were as much a part of him as his kindness. She looked forward to seeing the altered Braxton.

Maisie’s voice interrupted her speculation.“Raven, you can stretch out here on the sofa. I’ll get you some bedding.”

Harrison said, “Come, son. Let’s see about that shave.”

A short while later, Harrison removed the sheet draped over Brax’s shoulders. Before taking it outside to shake out the hair covering it, he handed Brax a long-handled mirror borrowed from Maisie so he could see the results. “How’s that?” he asked, watching Brax study his new face.

Brax smiled. “I like it, and even if I didn’t, the shave is necessary. I’m bald as an apple.”

Harrison chuckled. “That you are.”

Brax eyed the very close-cropped version of his beard and the bit of hair that remained to accent his chin. The new face would take some getting used to. He was almost unrecognizable to himself and most certainly would be to Stipe. Brax hadn’t had a hairless face since his eighteenth birthday. “I wonder what Raven will think of this?” he asked running his hand over his smooth head.

“Will it matter?” his father asked.

“Not really since it had to be done, but I do value her opinion.”

“Care about her, do you?”

He met his father’s kind eyes. “I do. Very much. Probably in love with her if the truth be told. Not something I planned.”

“Moreau women will do that to a man. Have you told her?”

He shook his head. “She doesn’t believe we’re compatible, socially or economically.”

“Sounds like me and her mother a few decades ago, but we’re together now, and if the fates are kind, and you truly love Raven, you two will be, too.”

Brax smiled. “Promise?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“No, Da. Never. And thanks for the shave and haircut.”

“You’re welcome.”

Leaving the room, he walked into the small parlor where the women were seated.

“Oh my!” Raven gasped in response to his new appearance.

“Very handsome,” Hazel voiced, smiling. “You look very kingly. All you need is a length of cloth draped over your shoulder and a royal staff in your hand.”

“And maybe a leopard or two posed beside you,” Raven added, grinning. “Stipe will never recognize you.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” He only had eyes for Raven. He’d grown accustomed to just the two of them being together at the end of the day, but tonight they’d be separated and that was disappointing. He consoled himself knowing she’d be traveling with him to Boston, and itgave him something to look forward to. “Good night, ladies.”

“Sleep well, Brax,” Raven said quietly.

“You, too.”

The next morning, they arrived at the Charleston train station to find a gang of armed men bullying their way through the sparse crowd. Stipe appeared to be their leader. He was stopping couples to study their faces before allowing them to move on. Dressed in her nun’s habit and wimple and wearing her mother’s false blue spectacles to disguise her eyes, Raven felt guilt rise over being the reason he was targeting and harassing innocent people. She then realized she wasn’t at fault. The guilt lay with Detective Welch for setting the events in motion. The scene was tense, however. No one knew who Stipe and his men were after or why, and more importantly, what might happen if the persons were or were not found. As a result, people were keeping their heads and eyes down, and doing their best to stay out of the way. No one wanted to lose their life.


Tags: Beverly Jenkins Women Who Dare Historical