The pattern of her heart, p.23
The Pattern of Her Heart, page 23
Although the notion gave her comfort, her hope was dashed when the small group entered the front door. Cousin Levi stood at the bottom of the stairway with his hand resting upon the oak balustrade, looking as though he expected royalty to enter his presence.
The old man adjusted his spectacles and peered at the group, his eyes traveling from head to toe as he examined each one. “A bit overdressed for a morning call, aren’t you?” he inquired as his gaze finally settled upon Jasmine, who was still attired in her ball gown.
Jasmine glanced at her mauve satin gown with its puffed trim across the bodice and hem. The silk roses and fichu adornment further served to make the gown appear completely inappropriate for morning wear. “Yes, we are. However, my family attended a gala at Rosewood Plantation last night, and we now find ourselves in quite a quandary. I’m hopeful you’ll be willing to help. If I might have a few moments of your time, I can explain.”
“Since the children are still in their party wear, may I assume they’ve not eaten breakfast, either?” he inquired.
“No, they haven’t,” Jasmine replied.
“Maude!”
The beak-nosed servant rushed into the foyer with her cap askew. “Yes, sir?”
“Take the children and servants and feed them breakfast.”
“At the dining table?” she asked, her gaze clearly fixed upon Prissy.
“Yes, at the dining table, and quit staring. I’m certain the colored girl knows how to use a fork as well as you and I. Off with you now, and take them along.”
“I’s willin’ to eat in da kitchen or even help prepare da food,” Prissy offered.
“Nonsense. Go and eat,” Levi ordered.
“You’re very kind,” Jasmine said.
“I’m a grumpy old man. Now come into the parlor and let me hear your tale of woe.” He slowly edged himself into one of the overstuffed chairs. “My rheumatism kicks up from time to time. Probably a storm moving in,” he explained as he scratched his thinning white hair. “I’m trying to remember what it was your father told me about you. Ah, yes. Your first husband died and you married his brother, isn’t that it?”
“Yes. And I live in Massachusetts,” she added.
“Right . . . an abolitionist. Your father mentioned that too. I was surprised he’d come to accept the fact that you and McKinley had turned against the South.”
Jasmine cringed at his characterization of her beliefs. “We didn’t turn against the South, cousin. We are abolitionists, but we continue to love the South and many of the people who live here. However, we find it impossible to embrace slavery—which is what brings me here.”
A startled look crossed his face. “I don’t own any slaves, so you have no argument with me.”
Jasmine smiled and leaned over to pat his hand. “This has nothing to do with whether you own slaves, Cousin Levi.” Clearly and concisely, she explained their dilemma, leaving few details to the imagination. Levi gave her his full attention without once interrupting her explanation. She had nearly completed reciting the facts when Nolan entered the front door.
“Do permit me to introduce you to my husband, Nolan Houston.”
“You’re a fellow artist, I understand,” Nolan said.
“Ah, you paint?” Levi inquired.
“In my early years I spent a great deal of my time writing and sketching. My passion, however, was poetry. Now, I no longer have time to indulge myself. Perhaps when the children are grown and life has settled a bit.”
Levi laughed as he shook Nolan’s hand. “Don’t wait too long, my boy, or you’ll never return at all. I know many people frown upon artists. They think us lazy and unwilling to adhere to their idea of honorable work. Little do they realize how difficult it is to place paintbrush to canvas or pen to paper and deliver a work of beauty. But those of us who are blessed with creative gifts have an obligation to God and mankind to use that ability. Don’t waste your talents! From what your wife tells me, you have been given much that you could write about.”
“Unfortunately, none of it heartening,” Nolan replied.
“True. Nonetheless, much art is communicated through pain and suffering. Remember that when you return to your home. However, the problem at hand is of greater import than your artistic endeavors. Jasmine says you need protection until you can formulate a plan for you and your family to flee back to the North.”
“Are you willing to assist us? I’d like to say we won’t be placing you in danger, but such a statement may not be truthful. Men who would threaten the lives of young children will care little if they injure you also. I want you to be fully aware of the possible harm that may befall you.”
“I’m an old man, Nolan. Death does not frighten me. As for the slavery issue, I was born and raised in Mississippi, but unlike most folks around here, I’ve lived in other places. Certainly, some of my neighbors have traveled abroad or gone north for short periods of time, but they’ve never actually immersed themselves in other cultures and social settings. As I told your wife, I own no slaves. In fact, I never have. I hire servants to assist me as needed—white folks. There aren’t many freed men around these parts or I’d be willing to hire them.”
“Then you agree with our stand against slavery?” Nolan inquired.
“I don’t participate in slavery, but I do believe in the right to make a choice. Not quite the same thing you folks believe. Let me add, however, that I strongly oppose the tactics being used by Rupert and his cronies. I stand willing to assist your family, though, if you believe Rupert’s threats to be real. I suggest we reason together and develop a well-thought-out plan—after breakfast,” he said with a broad grin. “Man cannot work on an empty stomach. Let’s join the rest of your family in the dining room.”
Once breakfast had been completed, Henrietta and Prissy were shown to a room where they could tend the children, and Levi escorted Nolan and Jasmine to his library.
“Why don’t you specify your priorities and what you need from me so that we may begin to formulate a plan,” Levi said, taking up his pen.
Jasmine sat opposite Nolan, grateful that the older man was taking charge. “We had given all of my father’s slaves their freedom, cousin. They are now freed men and women. We told them we would divide the money we received for the crop they were harvesting so they would have enough to begin their lives and become established in the North.”
“Mighty generous of you,” Levi remarked.
“Perhaps, but none of that is now going to occur. The Willows has been stolen from me. Rupert has some forged documents that everyone for miles around will attest to being bona fide. The cotton, ready for shipping, has been burned, and worst of all, all of our former slaves have been hauled off by Rupert and his men and are being sold back into slavery. Do you think there’s any way we can help them regain their freedom before we depart?” Jasmine asked as she attempted to hold her emotions in check.
“Now, it’s not going to serve us well if you become distressed. We need to keep our wits about us if we’re to accomplish our mission. Concerning the slaves . . . I don’t know how your husband feels about this issue, but I believe our first priority should be getting all seven of you to safety,” Levi said.
“But I fear if we leave the field hands, they’ll never escape bondage,” Jasmine said, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I know we don’t have the law on our side, nor the sympathy of our neighbors, but it seems we should at least try.”
Levi leaned back in his leather desk chair and clipped off the end of a cigar. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you I think you’re going to have much success with such a venture either now or in the future. Frankly, your first responsibility is to those three children. Once they’re safely returned home, use your own judgment about coming back and helping the others gain their freedom,” he said while puffing on the cigar.
“Your cousin is absolutely correct, Jasmine. I abhor these ghastly happenings, but the children cannot remain in Mississippi while we go searching about the countryside. You know as well as I do that our chance of finding any of the former slaves is miniscule.”
“And if you find them,” Levi added, “your attempts to regain their freedom will be thwarted at every turn. These men are shrewd, and they’ll quickly assist one another in their scheme.”
“Yet our former slaves are depending upon us—I know they are,” she lamented. “We’ll be like all the rest: we’ll leave them disappointed and reinforce their belief there are no whites who care for them.”
Nolan leaned forward and grasped her by the shoulders. “Jasmine, we cannot remain here. You would never forgive yourself if something were to happen to our children.”
“I know, I know,” she finally conceded in a hoarse whisper. “Yet I feel as though I’ve betrayed all those people.”
“No, my dear. You haven’t betrayed them—it’s Rupert and his cronies who have made a mockery of the law and justice. And one day he will pay dearly for his actions,” Nolan assured her.
Levi leaned forward and rested his arms upon the massive desk, ocher spots showing prominently on his aging skin. “Now that we’ve settled the issue of the slaves, let’s move on. Have you booked passage for your transportation home?”
“Yes. We should be able to exchange Martha’s passage for Prissy’s use. However, Rupert knows our plans. When he came to visit, he asked about our journey and then inquired if we would take the same route home. We told him that we had made arrangements with Captain Harmon to sail home on the Mary Benjamin,” Nolan replied. “Knowing Rupert, he’ll surely be on the lookout at the docks in Rodney. He and the rest of the men realize it’s the ideal place for us to board a steamboat to New Orleans. And he did say he’d be watching us.”
“I realize the journey would be difficult, but I think you’d be wise to travel north by foot for a time—get yourselves to Vicksburg, then take a steamboat north and make train connections for the remainder of your journey. If Rupert believes you’re going to sail out of New Orleans, he’ll have his men stationed in Rodney and Natchez.”
“True,” Nolan agreed. “And he’ll be expecting us to sail south toward New Orleans rather than north. We can make our way along the river until it appears safe.”
“Rupert is clever. He may send men in both directions, so your journey is going to be treacherous until you’re safely beyond Vicksburg. I doubt they’ll search any farther north than that,” Levi said thoughtfully. “I can furnish you with food, and I’ll have Maude see if she has something you can wear other than that . . . that . . .” He flitted his hand toward Jasmine’s gown.
“Ball gown,” she said, completing his sentence.
“Yes. You’ll need something more substantial—and shoes made of something other than cloth, I suspect.”
“Maude!” he shouted while ringing a small brass bell that had been resting on his desk.
“Yes, sir?” She edged into the room like a frightened bird.
“Mrs. Houston is going to need clothes in which to travel. This, of course, will not do.” He once again waved his hand up and down. “Do you think you can be of assistance?”
The older woman’s eyes traveled up and down Jasmine’s body as though she were taking measurements. “My clothing would not fit her, sir. She has more meat on her bones than I, but I suppose I could go into town and make some purchases if you like.”
“Would such purchases arouse suspicion, do you think?” Jasmine inquired.
“Why would anyone care if I was purchasing a traveling suit for Master Levi’s relative?” she asked.
Jasmine flinched. “That’s the point, Maude. We don’t want anyone to know I’m here or that I’m leaving.”
Maude stared at her as though she’d taken leave of her senses.
“It’s private information, Maude. Not a word to anyone. Understand?”
“Indeed, sir.”
“But will it cause suspicion?” Jasmine insisted.
“I sometimes make clothing purchases to send to my family. Should anyone inquire, I’ll say my sister is in need of a traveling suit and there’s nary a decent shop to be found near her home. ’Tis the truth anyway.”
“Your sister is traveling?” Levi inquired.
“No! The part about having no decent shops in Kenwick,” Maude said in an exasperated tone.
“I see,” Levi said. “I want you to hasten off as soon as possible. Don’t dally, but find both shoes and a dress, along with a change of clothes for the children, if possible. Put it on my account,” he added.
Jasmine stood and motioned to Maude. “I’ll go to the other room and give you some measurements, Maude. If you gentlemen will excuse me for a short time?”
“Of course,” Nolan replied. “We’ll work on the additional arrangements. We should likely plan to leave at first light, don’t you agree?” he asked Levi.
“You may want to leave under cover of darkness. I’d suggest you leave well before daylight so you can be away from this area before sunrise. I’m concerned Rupert may come here searching for you—I want you to be well on your way if that should occur.”
“Rupert calls on you?” Jasmine inquired as she and Maude reached the doorway.
“Not on a regular basis, but we see each other from time to time. And now that there is so little family remaining, he’s bound to wonder if you thought to come here.”
Jasmine frowned. “I suppose you’re correct. I hadn’t thought of Rupert considering we might come here, though I don’t know where else we could have gone. Maude and I will see to the clothing while you assess our other needs— and I think we should travel to Vicksburg by wagon, not on foot.”
Levi gave a brief laugh as he stubbed out his cigar. “I’m sure you do. However, you won’t be safe traveling on any roads that will accommodate a wagon. You’re going to need to keep to the woods if you’re to stay out of sight. You may be able take a coach once you’re twenty or thirty miles north, but remember—each person who sees you is one who may betray your whereabouts.”
“There’s one more thing,” Nolan told Levi. “Our hired woman was killed in the fire. She still lies near the back door of the house. Can you see to her proper burial?”
He nodded. “Be assured of it.”
Jasmine sighed. It would have to be enough. They had no other choice.
That night, with Clara hoisted into a sling on Nolan’s back and each of them carrying provisions to sustain them until they reached Vicksburg, they stepped out into the crisp air.
“Thank you for everything! I pray we haven’t placed you in any danger,” Nolan said. “Make some arrangement to rid yourself of the carriage and horses; I’m afraid Rupert would recognize them.”
Levi nodded. “Don’t worry about me—you’ve got more than enough to concern yourself with. You’ll all be in my prayers.” Levi’s eyes shone with emotion as he picked up his worn leather Bible and tucked it into Jasmine’s satchel. “I want you to have my Bible as well as the money I placed inside the front cover. Don’t refuse me; you’ll need both the money and God’s Word to sustain you throughout your journey.”
Jasmine leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cousin’s cheek. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll write once we’ve arrived home.”
“Remember to keep to the woods. So long as you can hear the river and you’re headed due north, you’ll remain on course.” Levi took hold of Jasmine’s arm. “And don’t fret about The Willows. I, too, have friends in these parts. I may not be able to get your slaves back, but I feel confident between my friends and what I know of Rupert Hesston, we’ll secure The Willows for you and McKinley. Now hurry on.”
Jasmine felt only moderately relieved at this thought. “Thank you so much.”
Nolan waved, and their small band walked away from the house with Alice Ann holding tightly to Jasmine’s hand. Henrietta and Prissy walked side by side. Spencer brought up the rear, listening for anyone advancing from that direction.
“I don’t like this,” Alice Ann whined as she tripped on a fallen branch.
“You’re fine. You didn’t fall. So long as you hold my hand, nothing will happen to you,” Jasmine said in a reassuring voice. “We’re on a great adventure, Alice Ann. One you can tell all your friends about once we get home.”
“I’m going to tell Winnie first thing,” she said.
“A horse can’t understand you,” Spencer told her.
“Shh!” Nolan warned. “Let’s keep our voices down. We’re close to Rodney, and there may be rowdies out and about in these woods.”
Alice squeezed Jasmine’s hand more tightly. “Is somebody going to hurt us?”
“No. Your papa won’t let anything happen to you, Alice Ann, but you must do as you’re told. Try to keep quiet unless it’s very important.”
They moved slowly, silently picking their way through the stand of woods that flourished not far from the banks of the Mississippi. The raw, fishy stench of the river mingled with the lapping sound of the water as it licked the dry riverbank—sounds and smells that directed their path when vision failed them. For a short time they floundered in the darkness, but their eyes quickly adjusted to the shadowy surroundings and they picked up their pace. All but Alice Ann, who was shifted to Nolan’s back while Henrietta and Jasmine took turns carrying Clara. There was little doubt this would be a grueling journey.
The night was filled with the sounds of croaking frogs and hooting owls while the distant moon cast eerie shadows in all directions. Giant tangles of Spanish moss hung from the trees like thick spider webs waiting to lure their prey. Jasmine swallowed her fear and followed closely behind Nolan as she wondered about the terror of all those runaway slaves who had stumbled through these woods before them. Runaways with dogs sniffing and yelping in the distance and then growing closer and closer, nipping at their heels until surely the bile of fear would rise in the throats of those slaves and nearly choke them. How did they manage to stop breathing and listen for the snap of a twig or the sound of a footstep on the forest floor when everything within them ached to run like the wind? How did they withstand the pure terror of being at the mercy of both the elements and their cruel captors? Though she feared for her family, her terror could be nothing compared to those brave slaves who dared to run for freedom.
