The Pattern of Her Heart (13 page)

“Things are going as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Mr. Draper is trying his best to meet my expectations.”

Rupert nodded and stood up. “I didn’t plan to stay long this evening but wanted to come by and see if there was anything I could do to help.”

“That’s kind of you. I’ll be certain to send word if we need assistance,” Nolan said as he grasped Jasmine by the arm and walked to the foyer.

“Thank you for calling on us, and please tell Lydia to send word when she arrives home,” Jasmine said as they bid her cousin good-bye.

The twosome remained on the front porch until Rupert was well out of sight and they could no longer hear the sound of galloping hooves.

“There’s something about him,” Jasmine told her husband. “Something that sets my teeth on edge.”

“Are you sure it’s not the setting you’ve been forced to deal with?” he questioned sympathetically.

She shook her head, her focus still fixed to the road. “No, it’s not just that. Rupert embodies an attitude that we shall be forced to face head-on before long. Once the community gives us time to settle in and mourn, they will descend upon us with their comments and reprimands,” she said sadly. She drew a deep breath and blew it out again. “Mark my words. We shall soon reap their judgment.”

Jasmine leaned down and pulled several weeds from the mound of dry dirt covering her father’s grave before she placed a bouquet of wild flowers near the joint headstone. The marker had been carved and set in place at the time of her mother’s death and forced her to accept the reality that both of her parents were now gone from this world.

“We’ll need to have the engraver carve the date of death,” Jasmine told her family in a trembling voice as she wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Why are you crying, Mama?” Alice Ann’s lips quivered as she asked the question.

“I’m sad because your grandpa Wainwright died and I won’t see him again,” she said, feeling the sting of her words.

“But we’ll see him in heaven, won’t we?”

“Yes, dear. My sadness is that I must wait until then to see him again.”

“But you always tell me that I’ll be more grateful when I must wait for something.”

Nolan and Jasmine exchanged a smile. “You are exactly right,” Jasmine said. “Enough of this sadness. Let’s go back to the house.”

“Can I go fishing?” Spencer asked.

The journey to Mississippi had been exhausting, and Spencer’s attitude since their arrival had improved little. He refused to be happy, except when he was at the small pond with his fishing pole. Thus far, school in Lorman was a fiasco. The school term had started nearly two weeks earlier than it would in Lowell. As if to punctuate his unhappiness, Spencer had become a constant source of trouble for the schoolmaster, and Jasmine and Nolan were daily receiving reports of his mischievous behavior.

“Be sure you return in time to wash up for supper,” Jasmine instructed, thankful it was Saturday and she wasn’t forced to deny his request.

He ran off without a reply, his feet pounding through the grassy meadow that surrounded the family cemetery. Jasmine took Alice Ann’s hand and strode alongside her husband, who had hoisted Clara into his arms.

“I’m concerned about Spencer,” she said to her husband. “He seems to be intent upon remaining unhappy.”

“And making the rest of us unhappy in the process,” Nolan agreed. “Yet I must admit, with all of the problems we’ve encountered here at the plantation, I’ve had little time to listen to his woes, which I fear only adds to his anger. It seems the little time I have with him is spent chastising him about his unpleasant behavior and poor performance in school.”

“I’m hoping that once we’ve finalized arrangements for the additional workers and actually begun the harvest, things will slow down somewhat.”

Nolan gave her a feeble smile and nodded. “I’ve asked the overseer to assemble the slaves Monday morning to tell them of our decision. I think it would be good if you were with me so they know that we are in agreement.”

“Yes, of course. Martha can look after Alice Ann and Clara, and I’ll have Henrietta make sure Spencer gets off to school on time. Have you advised Mr. Draper of our plans?”

Clara struggled to free herself from Nolan’s arms and he soon stooped down and set her on her feet. She toddled alongside him while holding tightly to his finger. “No. I haven’t decided if I can trust him to keep a confidence, and it’s best the slaves hear the plans from us first.”

“No doubt Mr. Draper will be as surprised as the slaves.”

“Probably more so,” Nolan said. “While Mr. Draper realizes we don’t believe in slavery, I’m sure he has no idea we would actually free all of them.”

“I only hope they’ll agree to what we’re offering. Otherwise, there’s no way we’ll be able to get the cotton harvested.”

Clara released her father’s finger, plopped down on the grass, and then raised her outstretched arms. “Tired of walking, are you?” he asked, lifting her high in the air and circling around until she giggled before setting her back on the grass. Nolan turned toward Jasmine, his countenance now more serious. “And what is the worst thing that could happen if we failed to bring in the crop?”

“I’d feel as though I’d failed to carry out my father’s last wish,” she ruefully admitted.

Nolan wrapped her in an embrace. “I don’t believe your father would be supportive of our plans to free the slaves, so it’s time you ceased being so hard on yourself. Nothing in our lives is dependent upon this crop.”

Jasmine leaned back and looked into her husband’s eyes. “Perhaps not, but if we are to carry out our plan and give the slaves their freedom, they’ll need the money to establish themselves up north. Giving them freedom without any means to support themselves as they attempt to begin a new life is tantamount to setting them up for failure. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of course. However, worrying is not going to change one thing. I believe the slaves will quickly realize that they are actually working as freed men to bring in this crop. I don’t think there will be many who will choose to immediately leave the plantation. If they do, we can point out the difficulties they’ll face and wish them well. And there may even be some who will be afraid to leave, especially the house servants.”

She knew her husband was correct. Worry would serve no purpose but to render her useless. They were, after all, doing the proper thing by freeing their slaves. Surely God would see them through any difficulties that might lie ahead.

Alice Ann skipped off toward the house, and her younger sister raced on her chubby legs to catch up.

“After the announcement is made tomorrow, I’ll talk to Prissy,” Jasmine said as the two followed their children. “Since the day we arrived in Mississippi, she’s talked openly with me. Perhaps she’ll be willing to tell me what the reaction is in the slave quarters—especially if there’s any backlash from the other plantations. By the way, did I tell you she and Toby plan to marry?”

“No. Somehow, it doesn’t seem possible Toby should be old enough to wed.”

“He was small for his age when he was young,” she said, “but he’s come into his own as a young man. He’s eighteen now.”

“Interestingly, Toby made a deep impression upon me when I visited Mississippi for the very first time. More than anyone other than you, I remember the first time I saw Toby here at The Willows.”

“Truly? Tell me,” Jasmine said.

“At supper the evening my brother and I arrived at the plantation, Toby was—”

“On the swing above the table stirring a breeze and fanning away the flies.”

“Exactly. And I recall how he waved to you and flashed his big toothy grin from his perch.”

“And how he’d fall asleep on that swing. Yet I recall only one time when he dropped his fan. Thinking back on his young life saddens me. How irresponsible and unfeeling to have a young child performing such a task. Can you imagine one of our children relegated to such a duty?”

“I truly cannot. However, we can’t change what’s happened in the past. All we can do is hope to change the future. It pleases me to know Toby has found someone to love, and Prissy seems a fine choice. If our decision to free the slaves should cause problems among the slaves on other plantations, I believe we can rely upon both Toby and Prissy to advise us.”

As they rode side-by-side to the slave quarters on Monday morning, Nolan gave his wife a sidelong glance. She rode with a beauty and grace that made any horse appear stately.

“Not quite like riding one of our own horses,” he said, hoping she would relax if he talked about horses rather than the announcement they would shortly make to the slaves.

“No, but she’s a good animal with fine lines,” Jasmine replied. “Father always bought good horseflesh—not Arabians like ours, but good stock all the same.”

They rode on in silence until they reached the overseer’s home, where the slaves stood congregated in one giant huddle. Most—especially the women—appeared frightened. A few angry faces peered at them as they dismounted, and the remainder seemed completely indifferent.

Nolan and Jasmine walked up the steps of the overseer’s house and stood on the porch in order to be more easily seen and heard.

“Are you certain you want me to speak?” Nolan asked as they moved to the railing along the porch.

“Yes. If I speak, they’ll still wonder if you are truly in agreement with my decision. There would be fear you might convince me to change my mind.”

“Then stand beside me as I speak so they know we are united,” Nolan said before turning to look into the sea of dark faces. “Thank you for coming out here this morning.”

The overseer leaned toward Nolan. “They wasn’t given no choice ’bout where they’d be this morning or any other morning,” he said before spitting a stream of tobacco juice over the railing.

Nolan ignored the remark. “We asked Mr. Draper to have you assemble here this morning because we have an announcement to make. We know you’ve been concerned about what will happen to The Willows and to you and your families since Mr. Wainwright’s death.”

He scanned the assembled group but saw nothing except wary eyes staring back in return. No one said a word—they simply watched him and waited.

“As you may or may not know, neither Mrs. Houston nor I believe in slavery. In addition, her brother, McKinley Wainwright, who is the joint heir to The Willows, does not believe in owning slaves either. It’s for that reason we’ve asked you to assemble here today. First, we want you to know that we are going to sign your papers, and all of you will become freed men, women, and children.”

There was a gasp and a low rumbling among the group, but when Nolan motioned with one hand, the group again fell silent.

“You also realize there is a cotton crop that needs to be harvested. This leaves us in something of a dilemma, but we hope we’ve found a solution that will be acceptable to you. Each person who chooses to remain at The Willows and help pick the cotton will receive payment for his work so that when you leave here, you can travel north and have enough money to sustain you until you find some form of employment. Please understand that you are not required to remain. You will be freed whether you choose to stay or leave, but we hope you will see it is in your best interest to remain until the crop is harvested. Do you have any questions?”

No one spoke.

“Surely you must have some questions. Please don’t be afraid to ask—there will be no more whips or dogs on this plantation. You have the right to inquire about your future.”

“If we don’ wanna stay and help with da cotton, when you gonna give us dis here freedom?” one of the men shouted from among the crowd.

“Miss Jasmine has already signed your papers. We will be giving them to you before you walk away from this gathering. What you decide to do about your future is then in your own hands,” Nolan replied.

Jasmine motioned for the overseer to move a wooden table off the porch. Nolan carried a bench, and Jasmine followed the two men as they situated the table in front of the crowd. Nolan pulled a sheaf of papers from his satchel and handed them to his wife.

“As I call your name,” she told them, “please come forward and I’ll hand you your papers. I apologize if I call the names of the deceased, but I do not have a list of those who were struck by the epidemic. However, a family member is entitled to the papers of any deceased relative.”