The pattern of her heart, p.6
The Pattern of Her Heart, page 6
“What?” he asked, forcing himself back to the present.
Reggie plopped down in the one remaining chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Spencer is leaving. His grandpa and uncles died, and now his family has to go somewhere down south to pick and hoe cotton. Isn’t that terrible? I wouldn’t want to hoe cotton. Do you think Spencer could come and live with us? I don’t want him to leave. He and Moses are the only friends I have in Lowell.” She sat up straighter. “I told him we’d come and talk to his mother and see if she’d let him stay with us. What do you think? He wouldn’t eat too much, and he doesn’t get into trouble very often. Do you think we could?” she asked, her questions tumbling out in rapid succession.
“No, Reggie, we couldn’t do such a thing. First of all, Spencer’s parents are not going to leave him in Lowell if they’re moving down south; second, I don’t think Spencer or any other member of their family will be hoeing cotton; and third, we aren’t going to go and talk to Mr. and Mrs. Houston. I am truly sorry your friend must leave, but this is none of our business.”
“But, Father, I promised.”
“You should have come and talked to me prior to making such promises,” he admonished quietly.
She tucked one leg beneath her and wrinkled her nose. “Won’t you at least talk to his mother?”
“Put your leg down, Reggie. That’s a very unladylike position,” he instructed. “If Mrs. Houston wishes to discuss Spencer’s future with me, I’m quite sure she’ll stop by the house.”
“Why does it matter if I sit like a lady? You never cared before.”
“Well, I should have. I’ve gone far too long without correcting your behavior.”
She frowned and jumped up from the chair. “I’m going home,” she announced, darting from the room and headlong into Mrs. Sanders, who was standing directly outside Justin’s office with the other members of the Ladies’ Aid Society.
“Why, Regina, how pleasant to see you. Have you been enjoying the cake Rachel baked for you and your father?”
Reggie hesitated for only a moment. “We didn’t eat it. I sold it instead.”
Mrs. Sanders gasped, obviously taken aback by the girl’s forthright reply.
“I got twenty-five cents,” she proudly announced. “Mr. Parker was going to give me only ten cents until I told him it was for the church benevolence fund, so he decided to give me an extra fifteen cents.”
“You lied to him?” Mrs. Sanders directed a condemnatory glare into the preacher’s office.
“No, Mrs. Sanders, she did not lie. She has donated all of the money toward the benevolence fund. Quite frankly, I thought it a better idea than letting the desserts go uneaten,” Justin said. “After all, we are only two people and you all had been so very generous with your gifts.”
With a downward glance, Mrs. Sanders sputtered an apology to the preacher and then busied herself searching her reticule for some unknown object.
“I thank you for your words of regret, Mrs. Sanders, but I believe it’s Regina, not I, that you’ve affronted,” Justin said as he took hold of his daughter and gently moved her until she was standing directly in front of him. With his hands resting upon Reggie’s shoulders, Justin met Mrs. Sanders’s embarrassed gaze. “I’m certain you’d like to offer Reggie your apology.”
CHAPTER • 4
MCKINLEY WAINWRIGHT paced back and forth in front of the Lowell railroad depot, straining to his full height as he peered down Merrimack Street before turning his attention to Dutton Street.
His lips curved into an unconvincing smile as he stopped beside Mr. Forbes. “Mr. Cheever should be arriving at any moment.”
Jarrod Forbes removed his spectacles and wiped them with his handkerchief. “So you’ve told me—twice now. The sun is much too bright for my liking. I’ll wait for you and Mr. Cheever inside the depot,” he said before glancing toward the sound of a shrill whistle in the distance. “Sounds as though the train should be arriving soon also.”
Mr. Forbes leaned heavily upon his cane and hobbled off to the doorway of the depot. Matthew was seldom late, and McKinley began to worry that an emergency had occurred at one of the mills. He hesitated, attempting to decide if he should send one of the boys running to the mills. The train shrieked an earsplitting whistle, and McKinley motioned to a young lad. He’d just completed his instructions to the boy when he saw Matthew’s carriage round the corner.
“I won’t need your assistance after all. Mr. Cheever is approaching,” he said, tossing the boy a coin.
“Thank you, sir,” the boy said as he caught the coin and then tucked it into his pocket.
“I was growing concerned,” McKinley said as his father-in-law stepped down from the carriage with his case in hand.
Matthew waved his driver on and then strode alongside McKinley. “I thought I had all of the contracts assembled, but after reviewing them this morning, I realized several were missing. I was required to stop at the mill on my way. Finding the remaining documents proved more time-consuming than I had anticipated. Where’s Forbes?”
“He’s waiting inside the depot. He was determined to be on the train, even if neither of us accompanied him,” McKinley replied.
Matthew laughed. “Likely he’s concerned about all that shopping he must accomplish in Boston before his departure.”
“How wonderful it must be to have nothing more pressing than the purchase of a few trinkets weighing upon one’s mind,” McKinley said as they entered the depot.
“Pleased to see you made it in time for our departure,” Mr. Forbes said as Matthew stepped forward and grasped the older man’s hand. “I began to fear you wouldn’t make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss an important meeting with the Association. As I told McKinley, I was delayed by a few misplaced contracts but have managed to set everything right.”
“Then let us board,” Forbes declared, suddenly seeming to have gained new momentum.
The three men boarded the train and settled into their seats. The train had barely pulled away from the station when Jarrod Forbes nodded off to sleep.
“Doesn’t appear as though we’ll be having much discussion with Mr. Forbes on the way to Boston,” Matthew commented while giving the older man a sidelong glance.
McKinley grinned and nodded in agreement.
“How has my daughter reacted to all this news regarding the plantation?” Matthew asked. “Her mother tells me Violet appeared somewhat withdrawn when they visited yesterday. Yet when Lilly questioned her, she wasn’t forthcoming.”
“She’s distraught. I’ve attempted to reassure Violet that I will not go to Mississippi, but I think she fears I’ll relent if Jasmine becomes more forceful.”
Matthew leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. “Quite frankly, I don’t believe this entire ordeal should rest upon Jasmine’s shoulders, especially if you want to share in the proceeds of your father’s estate,” he said rather sternly.
“What? You think I should leave Violet—in her condition and after her difficulty? I question whether your daughter would ever fully recover if she lost another child. And there’s my position with the Corporation to consider. Besides, I know nothing about harvesting a cotton crop.”
Matthew rubbed his fingertips across the deep creases that lined his forehead. “It’s entirely your decision. I’m pleased that you’ve put your love for Violet and the unborn child first. However, Violet mentioned the fact that you expect to receive your full share from your father’s estate. Jasmine and Nolan have much at stake in this matter also, and I’m surprised they would agree to take on full responsibility. Leaving their horses and business to the care of others could prove very risky for them—and you can be sure they question their own ability to harvest a crop.”
“Then you think I should go?”
“I find more fault with your ultimatum regarding the inheritance than in your decision to remain in Lowell. You might find spending some time in prayer to be beneficial . . . and you might want to say a word of thanks for your sister while you’re at it.”
McKinley stared out the train window and contemplated Matthew’s words. Perhaps his decision had been hastily made. Yet the thought of going to Mississippi was out of the question. Instead, he would offer to assist Paddy and the other folks whom Nolan would leave in charge of his holdings. To make this issue a matter of prayer, however, would be impossible. Though he knew his stance regarding the inheritance was selfish, he would not accept less than the share allotted him in the terms of his father’s will. After all, as the only remaining son, he could have contested Jasmine’s inheritance. Besides, he needed the additional funds! The downward turn in the economy during the past few years had taken a heavy toll on his investments, which was a fact he did not wish to discuss with his father-in-law.
McKinley tried not to linger long on the topic. Thinking about the plantation made him remember his father and the conflicts they’d had over his own decision to remain in the North. He knew his father never fully agreed with his decision. Nor could Malcolm Wainwright ever fully understand McKinley’s hatred of slavery. He could almost hear his father’s protests, even now.
“But you benefited every day of your life from the work of our slaves,” his father had once argued. “How can you turn away from all that I offer? How can you turn away from your home?”
And indeed McKinley had struggled at times with that decision. There were moments when he remembered the sweet smell of honeysuckle as it drifted on the evening air. He remembered the parties and family gatherings. He had, when young, imagined himself quite happily settled with his own plantation and slaves.
I’m sorry, Father. How could I explain to you what I never quite fully understood myself?
The train came to a jerking halt at the Boston railroad station and ended his musings, at least for the moment. Nathan Appleton’s carriage awaited them outside the depot, and within a short time, the three men were delivered to the front door of the Appleton home, where Nathan personally greeted them.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Forbes. I do wish it were under different circumstances,” Nathan said as he led them into his library. “Many of the Associates are traveling abroad for the summer, but most of them will return to America in the next two weeks. Let me introduce you to the members who are able to be in attendance.”
Nathan quickly made the introductions and invited the men to be seated. “I trust you’ve heard the latest financial news,” he said with a worried look in his eyes.
“I’ve heard nothing of interest. Is something amiss with the Corporation?” Matthew inquired.
“We received word yesterday that the New York branch of the Ohio Life Insurance and Trust Company has failed. It appears the insolvency was caused by a massive embezzlement of railroad bonds, which will, of course, leave enormous debts,” Nathan explained.
Wilson Harper mopped the perspiration from his forehead. “New York bankers restricted all routine transactions immediately. We’ve heard that investors who held stock and commercial paper immediately rushed to make deals with their brokers. The telegraph we received this morning says that stocks fell ten percent in one day. Fortunes are being lost overnight. Terrible! Terrible!” Harper said, shaking his head back and forth.
“The banks wouldn’t honor routine transactions? Why?” McKinley asked, his fear mounting at this turn of events.
“All their depositors wanted payment in gold; however, the bankers knew they couldn’t meet the demand until the expected gold shipment arrived from San Francisco. They announced their gold shipment is due by mid-September. I believe they gave the anticipated date in order to allay the fears of their depositors, but I’m not certain it’s been successful. I’m hoping panic doesn’t spread to Boston, yet we likely need to withdraw some of the Corporation’s funds in the event there’s a nationwide collapse.”
“I doubt that’s going to occur. This country is economically sound, don’t you think?” McKinley inquired in a hopeful voice.
Josiah Baines glanced around the room. “You were but a child when the economic crisis hit in 1839, but those of us who struggled through that time haven’t forgotten. I learned many a lesson then, which is the only good thing I can say about that period in my life.”
“True! I think the most important thing I discovered was to diversify my holdings and always retain a fair sum of gold,” Thomas Clayborn commented.
“So long as you don’t put your gold in the bank,” Wilson said with a hearty laugh.
Josiah and the other men nodded in agreement before Nathan once again took control of the group. “Mr. Forbes, why don’t you tell us some good news? I think we would all appreciate an encouraging word.”
Jarrod Forbes glanced toward McKinley and Matthew before addressing the men. “I doubt you’ll consider what I have to say good news. However, it could be much worse,” he began.
The Associates listened attentively. However, McKinley noted that each of them had paled a bit by the time Mr. Forbes finished his report.
“We are truly sorry for your loss, McKinley. I know this must be a terrible blow for you,” Nathan said. “Please be assured that if you are needed in Mississippi, we will make every attempt to accommodate you. We would be willing to secure your position on an unpaid basis for as long as necessary to close the estate.”
“Thank you, but arrangements have already been made. My sister and her husband will soon depart in order to oversee the cotton harvest and sell the plantation,” McKinley replied, careful to avoid eye contact with his father-in-law.
“I don’t want to appear insensitive to your loss, McKinley, but I’m wondering if the plantation can be sold with an assignation of the contract we had with Malcolm?” Wilson Harper inquired.
Jarrod Forbes cleared his throat. “I believe I can answer that question. Malcolm placed a proviso in his will that if his heirs made a decision to sell the plantation—and he was confident they would—they were instructed to use due diligence in seeking a buyer who would enthusiastically embrace the fulfillment of his contractual obligation with the Boston Associates.”
“I might add that any buyer would be foolish to look elsewhere,” McKinley said. “The Associates have always been generous in dealing with the cotton growers.”
Wilson nodded. “However, some may view the purchase as an opportunity to renegotiate. Such a possibility could eventually lead to a breakdown with the other growers. I’m not attempting to create problems, merely hoping we won’t be blindsided by a sale.”
“Of course, you understand that Mr. and Mrs. Houston are going to The Willows at great hardship to themselves and their young family,” Matthew Cheever said. “I don’t think anyone can expect them to be overly concerned about the ongoing contracts. They are, after all, in the horse business. The sale of cotton to the Associates in no way affects their future, and I don’t believe we can have any expectation in that regard.”
“Yes, of course,” Josiah agreed. “However, if Malcolm made mention in his will, I believe his daughter will want to respect her father’s dying wishes. Coupled with the news regarding the embezzlement scandal, this turn of events comes as a double blow. Do we know how many of our contracts were affected by the epidemic?”
Jarrod Forbes raised his eyebrows. “To some extent, all of them. However, the Louisiana plantations didn’t suffer much damage. Most of them lost only a few slaves or possibly a family member, while the Mississippi plantations lost entire families and large numbers of their slaves.” He leaned forward. “As you know, the cotton harvest will soon begin in earnest. Once I return home, I’ll be able to supply you with a better estimate of what you may expect.”
“In the meantime, since we already have a meeting scheduled for the third week in September, I believe there’s little we can accomplish at the moment,” Nathan said. “Matthew, if you would spend some time reviewing the contracts and prepare a report as to the amount of cotton we have on hand, I believe it would be helpful. And Mr. Forbes, once you return home, any additional information you can supply will be appreciated. Please assure the plantation owners we are aware of their circumstances and will make adjustments as necessary. We can always look to foreign markets if necessary.”
“Please don’t move in that direction too quickly,” Forbes said. “After all, with the news I’ve heard today, it appears that if we’re to keep this country from another depression, we must conduct business within our own borders.”
Nathan shifted in his chair. “I agree—whenever possible.”
“And profitable,” Wilson muttered.
McKinley watched Jarrod Forbes for a reaction. It didn’t appear as if he’d heard Wilson Harper’s rejoinder, yet McKinley knew that the remark was the mantra of the Associates. As long as the ledger was showing a marked profit, they would continue doing business with the Southern growers. But if the foreign markets could compete by producing cotton at a lower price and of equal quality, the Associates would have no loyalty to their Southern brothers. And that argument would be McKinley’s defense should his father-in-law attempt to convince him he should go to the South to assist in protecting the cotton contract with the sale of The Willows.
Jasmine opened the top center drawer of Nolan’s desk and retrieved the letter Jarrod Forbes had given her on the day of his arrival in Lowell. The edging of her lilac print day dress caught on the drawer and snagged a small hole in the fine lace. She would mend it this evening. But for now she wanted once again to read the missive. Although she had already examined the contents of the letter many times, reading her father’s message soothed her. The neatly scripted words connected her to those last days before his death, providing her with a window into his final thoughts and concerns.
After carefully unfolding the letter and pressing the creases flat, Jasmine permitted herself to focus upon the final words from her father.
My dear daughter Jasmine,
It is with a sad heart that I commit to paper my final thoughts. You have been my heart’s delight—a daughter any man would be proud to call his own. I don’t discount that we’ve had our disagreements from time to time, but such is to be expected in the course of rearing a child. Now my life on this earth is drawing to an end, and I find it difficult to say the many things I wish I had said to you throughout the years. Please know that I am proud of the woman you have become and the strength you have exhibited in difficult times. It grieves me that I must now place yet another burden upon you, but you will have Nolan and McKinley at your side as you accomplish the task of settling my estate.
