The Pattern of Her Heart (9 page)

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.
   I trust you will be judicious in handling the bequest you will receive upon my death. It has taken our family a lifetime to amass these holdings. Therefore, I pray you and your brother will be good stewards of this bounty. Obviously, it will be imperative that you and McKinley come to The Willows and oversee the final harvest. I am not disillusioned by any thoughts that you or McKinley will return and make your home within these walls, but I trust you will both make every effort to secure a good price for the cotton and exercise due diligence in locating a purchaser who will cherish this land as I have.

Jasmine refolded the page. There was no need to read further—she’d nearly committed the letter to memory. Had her father truly believed McKinley would leave his position with the Corporation and travel to The Willows?

“So here you are, my dear,” Nolan said as he took three giant strides across the expanse from the doorway to her chair and kissed the top of her head. “I thought perhaps you’d gone off to town without telling anyone.”

She laughed at his comment. “I think Alice Ann or Clara would fuss loudly enough to alert the entire household if I attempted to leave.”

He glanced at the folded letter. “Rereading your father’s missive again?”

She nodded and gave him a feeble smile. “I read his words and feel compelled to do as he’s requested, yet my anger toward McKinley won’t subside. I understand his concerns over Violet and his position at the Corporation, but he acts as though none of this poses any imposition upon our family.”

Nolan sat down, giving her his undivided attention. “Your brother may project that attitude, but he knows how difficult leaving Lowell will be for us. He realizes the responsibilities we have.”

“If so, he hasn’t indicated as much to me.”

“I imagine he’s dealing with a hefty portion of guilt. After all, I’m certain your father’s words to McKinley were very explicit—just as they were to you. We must accept his choice.”

“I’ve accepted his decision, but I don’t respect it.”

Nolan reached forward and with one finger tipped Jasmine’s chin upward until he was looking into her eyes. “As long as you continue to respect your brother, you need not like his decision. Don’t judge him too harshly, my love, for if I were forced to decide between my wife and my father’s estate, I’d most definitely choose you. Remember, I did not always have anything to do with my family business. I disappointed my father at every turn. My brother was the one he depended on.”

“And Bradley could see nothing but business,” she murmured. “There ought to be a balance. Must a man choose only one or the other?”

Before he could respond, Spencer walked into the room. His lips were tightened into an angry pout, and there was a stubborn look in his eyes. “What if I live with Reggie and her father?” he asked.

A moment passed before Jasmine could completely digest what her son was requesting. “You want your father and me to leave you in the care of Pastor Chamberlain while we travel to Mississippi?”

Apparently Spencer interpreted her calm response to mean she might actually acquiesce, for the sullen look in his eyes was now replaced by a hopeful glimmer.

“Your father and I could list a host of reasons why such an idea is completely out of the question. However, suffice it to say that you may not remain in the care of Pastor Chamberlain. You, Alice Ann, and Clara will accompany us to The Willows.”

The sparkle disappeared from his eyes. “If I can’t stay with them, then let me stay here at the house. The servants can look after me,” he countered.

“I’ve already told you we will not leave you here. Besides, the only servants who don’t go to their own homes every night are Martha and Henrietta, and they’ll be traveling with us. Please don’t make any other suggestions, Spencer—you’ll only be further disappointed by our answer.”

“Poppa,” he said, turning his pleading face to his father.

Jasmine could see the wavering look in Nolan’s eyes. They had discussed this matter at length. She knew Nolan wanted to concede—tell the boy he could remain in Simon and Maisie’s care, where he and Moses could begin the school year as scheduled. But he had finally agreed they ought not divide their family. Spencer belonged with them. If need be, she argued, they could hire a tutor or Spencer could attend school in Lorman. They both knew he’d be unhappy, but they were family and Jasmine was determined they remain together.

“I’m afraid we can’t grant your request this time, son,” Nolan said. “Try to view this as a grand adventure. You’ll have opportunities to see new things and meet new people. Moreover, this may be the final time you’ll have an opportunity to visit The Willows.”

Spencer turned and marched from the room without another word.

“You see!” she said, jumping up from her chair and slapping the letter onto her husband’s desk. “This situation is going to destroy our family while McKinley will continue with life as usual. Yesterday Spencer hid in the woods behind the barns and sent Moses to tell me he’d run away; today he’s plotting to live with Pastor Chamberlain and his daughter at the Congregational parsonage! Who can guess what tomorrow will bring.”

Nolan raked his fingers through his thick hair. “I believe if we’re to survive this, it’s going to take a lot of prayer and a sense of humor. I’m planning to spend time with Paddy regarding the contracts that must be fulfilled while we’re gone.”

Jasmine sighed. “We have much to lose if anything goes amiss with our West Point contracts.”

“And the new ones with the Virginia Institute. I’m thankful I insisted Paddy be involved throughout the negotiations with both schools. He knows many of the details, and although he’s young, he’s become an astute businessman. I don’t believe anyone will take advantage of him,” he added before moving to the far side of his desk.

“You remain convinced that we must travel by train?” she inquired while watching her husband unlock the bottom drawer of his desk.

Nolan pulled a thick folder from the drawer and dropped it with a gentle thud. “If we’re going to arrive in time to oversee the harvest, traveling by train will be the most expeditious. Of course, we’ll be required to travel the portion into Lorman by boat,” he explained.

“I was thinking it would be much more comfortable for the children if we traveled by ship rather than train, but you’re correct—time must control our decisions.”

Nolan’s fingers rippled through the pages, his attention on the folder of papers, and Jasmine knew his thoughts were now fixed upon the vital contracts they must fulfill during the next year.