Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (35 page)

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Authors: Roxane Tepfer Sanford

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BOOK: Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy
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With my heart racing and a sudden feeling of
panic, I sped back to the cemetery, calling for Jacob.

“Jacob Thomas, where are you?”

It wasn’t easy to run anymore, and I held my
belly with my hands as cramps and sharp pains began.

“Jacob, where have you gone!”

I stopped to catch my breath, then moved on
and scoured the area. I went into the woods and to our water hole
and searched high and low throughout the forest.

“Jacob, Jacob!” I called over and over.

Exhausted, I fell to my knees and began to
shake out of fear. Something terrible must have happened. I felt it
in every part of my being. My hands began to shake; my stomach
turned queasy.

I closed my eyes and composed myself and took
a long breath. Then, as if in a dream turned into a nightmare, on
impulse I walked to the river, somehow intuitively sensing the
dreadful occurrence I was about to discover. I would never forgive
myself for what had happened.

 

~ ~ ~

 

~
Thirty-two
~

 

Once again the heartrending weeping of a
grieving mother who’d lost her child echoed throughout the mansion.
Jacob’s untimely death, his drowning, stunned us all and left me so
guilty I couldn’t face Mammy.

Eugenia was, surprisingly, considerate enough
to allow Mammy to grieve with the family, as I suspected Eugenia
had empathy for her. Regardless of how Eugenia felt about Jacob
Thomas’s conception and the fact that he was the illegitimate son
of her husband, he was an innocent little boy and didn’t deserve to
die, just as Beatrice and Violet ought not to have died as
children.

Eugenia of course learned of our antics, and
I expected to be locked away once again. I welcomed the punishment.
I hoped while I was locked away I would give birth early and die;
even that wouldn’t be enough punishment for my negligence. I felt
it was purely my fault that Jacob Thomas was dead.

Eugenia knew I would suffer more by having to
face Mammy . . . face her grief and suffer along through it.

“She is out there crying over the boy’s
grave. You go to her and stand beside her and recite the Lord’s
Prayer,” Eugenia said. “Then come inside and write to your father.
Write him and tell him of the drowning.”

I began to cry.

“You stop your pathetic crying this instant.
It is your selfish ways that have that boy dead and buried. You
only think of yourself!” she snapped.

“It’s not true!” I sobbed. “He was my
brother. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him!”

We stood in the foyer. Hamilton had just come
in inside out of the rain, along with Hattie. Hattie still had her
gash bandaged, and her face was stricken and ailing from grief, not
from her concussion.

“You have the devil in you, Amelia Arrington.
All around should beware. No one is safe near the likes of you,”
she said aloud and gave them a look of warning.

I ran past them. My heart ached so badly that
I thought I could never feel whole again. And when I came upon
Mammy lying on the freshly-dug muddy grave sobbing uncontrollably,
I fell apart.

I landed beside her on my knees, allowing the
rain to saturate me. I covered my face with my hands and wailed,
then sobbed to Mammy how sorry I was.

“It ain’t no one’s fault, Miss Amelia,” she
said, not lifting her head or opening her weary eyes. “God see to
it that my boy came to him.”

“No, Mammy. It was the devil that made Jacob
die. I carry the devil with me!”

Mammy sighed and dug her hands down into the
mud and began to moan. Her anguish was unbearable. I crawled away
to a spot beside a tree, bowed my head above my clasped hands, and
began the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed
be thy name, thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is
in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread and forgive us our
trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us
not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the
kingdom and the power and the glory, forever. Amen.”

 

Within a few weeks, Mammy’s external grief
ended. Her loss had aged her many years, and she no longer
maintained a natural smile. It was forever gone. All I could do was
beg for her forgiveness, and all she would tell me is that it
wasn’t my doing. It was God’s plan was all.

Hattie and I spent ours days separate. Just
as when Beatrice and Violet were buried, endless gloomy days of
rain and fog besieged Sutton Hall, leaving the mansion cold, dark,
dreary, and depressed. No one could keep warm, and there was little
desire to take care of anything but the bare necessities of life.
Even Eugenia fell into another bout of depression. She kept herself
locked away, and I often believed I heard her crying. Especially
after receiving Daddy’s letter, which she made me read aloud to
all. His heavyhearted words were intended for Mammy exclusively,
though he didn’t address it so.

“Amelia’s letter came, and I read it with
great sorrow,” he wrote. “I pray that God keeps young Jacob in the
arms of the angels.”

Hamilton did all he could to console Mammy.
His large eyes revealed only sympathy and love for her, and his
huge arms held her ever so gently as she sobbed onto his shoulder.
Hattie was left in a state of shock. Without her little brother to
care for, she wandered the plantation aimlessly, lost without
him.

The burden of my anguish lay deep within me,
and I cursed my existence every day. I forgot about the things in
life that had once made me happy. I hadn’t thought of Patrick or
Perry in some time.

I retreated to reading my Bible - as always,
it was a safe refuge for me. It was what I turned to when all else
failed me. All I could do was pray and pray, for when I strayed
from my prayers, that was when terrible things happened around
me.

After Jacob’s passing we all gathered for
supper, and we prayed together and asked for God to see us through
these troubled days. We prayed for Jacob, Beatrice, and Violet. We
prayed that God would keep them safe in heaven. We prayed for God
to watch over Patrick, and we prayed for Daddy to come home
soon.

“Dear God, we need Thomas’s safe return. We
are suffering without his judicious presence,” Eugenia prayed. “We
are suffering without him. And with all your mighty powers, save
all of us, and save Amelia from herself. Amen.”

Eugenia continually reminded me that the hunt
was on for Warren.

“Plans have not changed. I want you gone. I
pray every day for your disappearance.”

Her words always came at me like a knife
straight to the heart. It hurt badly to be hated so much. I was
left battered and bruised beyond belief, and I wished for my life
to end, even before the baby’s birth. Three months more was too
long to wait. However, time moves at its own pace, and a slow pace
it was, especially when we received some unexpected visitors that
turned our stale existence into a volatile situation. All thanks to
Eugenia and her steadfast quest to find Warren Stone, all so he
would take me away.

I returned from visiting with Jacob, reading
at his gravesite his favorite stories, when up the road on
horseback came three Confederate soldiers. I went up to the gallery
and called for Eugenia.

“What is it?” she snapped, and as soon as she
laid eyes on the gentlemen, she gave them a stilted greeting. “What
brings you to Sutton Hall?”

The soldiers dismounted and approached
Eugenia.

“Mrs. Thomas Arrington?” The older soldier
asked. The other two stood by his side. The sight reminded me too
much of my encounter with Confederate soldiers in Savannah the day
Perry saved me from a terrible ordeal.

“Yes. What is it you want?”

The men gruffly pushed her aside and looked
around. One man went to the right of the mansion and the other to
the left.

“What is this all about?” Eugenia barked.
“What business do you men have here?”

The older soldier, who I later learned was a
Colonel Abner Smith, gave Eugenia a challenging stare.

“We got word that Colonel Warren Stone
resides here.”

The other two men came back empty-handed and
stood glaring at us.

“No, I don’t have a Warren Stone residing
here at Sutton Hall!”

“Shall we go inside, Mrs. Arrington, so we
can have a look for ourselves?”

Colonel Smith towered over Eugenia. He was
very tall and stout, with a bushy moustache above his red lips. He
was about Daddy’s age, I supposed, while the other two Confederates
were no older than Warren. One of them had sandy blond hair with
pale blue eyes, and the other was dark-haired and his eyes were
kept hidden kept under his cap.

“You may not enter my home. I told you Warren
Stone is not here!”

“Step aside, ma’am,” Colonel Smith
insisted.

Hamilton heard the commotion and came around
from the barn to see what the matter was. The one soldier continued
to stare up at me. His blue eyes refused to move from my bosom. I
became nervous and eased back inside to where Mammy was watching
from the doorway.

“What they want?” she asked.

“They’re looking for Warren.”

“You keep that Negro back from us,” the
dark-haired soldier called out and pointed his musket at
Hamilton.

“Now, Corporal Byron, I’m sure Mrs. Arrington
can control her Negroes. Isn’t that correct, Mrs. Arrington?” he
asked disdainfully.

“Of course,” she snapped.

The man nodded. “The word about Savannah is
you have been harboring Colonel Warren Stone here on your
plantation.”

“I’m not harboring anyone. And if the colonel
were here, what matter is it of yours?” Eugenia folded her arms
defiantly over her large chest and scowled at him.

“The matter is that Colonel Stone is a
deserter. And the Army of the Confederate States don’t allow no
deserters to go unpunished.”

Eugenia didn’t know what to say. She appeared
stunned.

“Now step aside and let us in so we can look
for ourselves.”

Eugenia followed his orders and allowed the
men in. I stayed in the foyer with Mammy, hoping they would
expedite their search and leave.

“Corporal, you take the upstairs. I’ll look
down here. Sergeant Barrows, stay on the gallery. Make certain no
one leaves.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eugenia was practically hyperventilating.
“Get me a cup of tea, Abigail,” she commanded.

Mammy went off to the kitchen with the
colonel on her trail.

“Can it be true what they’re saying?” Eugenia
asked me.

“I believe so.” I replied.

She looked down at me in disbelief. “You mean
to tell me you knew all along he was a deserter?”

“Not exactly. Before he left, his memory had
returned.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“Tell you about what?” Colonel Smith asked as
he came back from the kitchen with Mammy.

His eyes darted from mine to Eugenia’s, and
he called for his soldiers.

“Well, is he here?”

“No, sir. No sign of him,” Corporal Byron
answered.

“I see. Hummm,” he said while scratching his
chin with the tips of his fingers. “I believe we have reason to
call you all liars. And in that case, we ain’t leaving this
plantation until he returns.”

“You can’t do this!” Eugenia cried.

“Oh, can’t I?” He sneered and moved in to
lock eyes with her. “Rumor has it that that pretty little thing is
his bride-to-be, that she is carrying his child. So the way I see
it, Mrs. Arrington, is that Colonel Stone will be coming back to
claim her, and when he does, we will be here to take him in.”

The colonel turned to me. “You must be
Amelia. Sure are a pretty thing. Can’t believe he’s stayed away so
long.”

“She is not carrying his child. Yes, they had
planned to marry, but since she tragically miscarried the baby, he
ran off,” Eugenia quickly divulged, certainly not mentioning that
it was my half-brother’s child she believed I miscarried and not
Warren‘s.

“Oh…I see,” he said, closely looking me over.
I felt my face flush, and I tried to suck in my belly so it would
not to be any too obvious.

“She lost the baby, did she?”

“Months ago. That’s when Warren took off. She
was no good to him since she couldn’t carry his child. No woman
would be!”

Without warning, the man took hold of me and
pressed his hands on my stomach. I gasped and flew back into the
corporal’s arms. I fought him and screamed as he forcefully ripped
off the buttons from my dress.

Eugenia demanded that they stop. “Take your
hands off her this instant!” she ordered and pushed the colonel
aside to get to me. Then she stopped and sucked in her breath.

“She ain’t carrying Warren’s baby?” he hissed
pointing to my exposed, very pregnant abdomen. “No one leaves
Sutton Hall until Colonel Warren Stone returns,” Colonel Smith
hollered for all to hear. “He will come for her, and we will be
here waiting. No matter how long it takes!”

 

~ ~ ~

 

~
Thirty-three
~

 

As expected, Eugenia blamed me for all the
suffering we all had to endure. Though she could no longer lash out
at me as she was forced to control her rage in the presence of the
three uninvited soldiers, she did manage to throw me icy stares
when we were in the same room together. Her face was stone cold and
covered with a hate for me that would never fade.

I believed everyone in the mansion hated me.
I was responsible for death and destruction, for invasion and loss,
which could only be explained by the evil I carried. Eugenia never
failed to remind me during the holdout for Warren Stone’s
return.

“You are the devil in disguise,” she would
mumble when she passed me in the halls.

We carried on our affairs as normally as
possible, yet it was difficult to ignore the men’s presence. Their
eyes followed us everywhere, and they knew where any one of us was
at any given time.

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