The Pattern of Her Heart (22 page)

“A letter from home or a business matter?” Jasmine inquired as she drew near his chair and gently grasped his shoulder.

Nolan started at her touch. “I didn’t hear you approach,” he said, placing the letter on his desk. “The letter is from Albert Cameron at the Lowell Savings Bank, along with a note from Paddy that he included.”

“Is Paddy having problems with the farm?” she asked, taking a seat opposite her husband.

“No, nothing like that. Paddy could care for the farm and horses without a second thought. However, it seems the economy is much worse in the North—at least for the present time. Albert explains problems that have occurred and his prospects for the future. . . . It’s rather dim, I fear. He says he recently reviewed a number of Southern newspapers and was surprised at the lack of coverage regarding what he describes as a full-blown panic that has now thrown large portions of the country into a recession.”

“I’ve not heard or read anything that indicated the country was in a recession. Are we so far removed from the rest of the country that we have no idea what is transpiring at home? Surely Albert is exaggerating,” she said.

“He isn’t one to overstate his concerns, so I seriously doubt he would write unless he perceived this as a genuine problem. He says predictions of a quick recovery aren’t forthcoming, and he also states that President Buchanan referred to the country’s monetary interests as being in deplorable condition, though he does believe we’ll make a complete recovery.”

Jasmine stood up and moved to Nolan’s side. “This makes no sense. Why would this information not be important to the Southern community? For the life of me, I cannot understand why such matters would be hidden beneath a cloak of silence.”

Nolan smiled and patted her hand. “I don’t imagine anyone is making a concerted effort to hide these issues. The newspaper editors have likely decided that since the Southern economy has not yet been affected, there is no reason to create panic among the gentry.”

“So they’re going to bury their heads until disaster swoops down upon them rather than preparing when they have the opportunity?”

“I believe they prefer to think the problem will not filter into the Deep South. And though I have serious doubts, they may be correct in their thinking.”

“Oh, pshaw! There must be more to this than meets the eye. I’d guess someone in power made a decision to withhold the information from the South for as long as possible and for whatever reason. I would speculate that favors are being exchanged among the powerful and at the expense of the citizens.”

Nolan gave a hearty laugh. “I believe your analysis of the situation may be more dramatic than the actual truth—whatever that may be.”

Jasmine removed a small watch from the tiny pocket set in the seam of her violet day dress. “I didn’t realize it was getting so late. I had best check on Spencer. I told Henrietta I would see that he completed his sums.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’d like to discuss this matter further when I’ve finished. I haven’t yet heard what Paddy had to say in his note to you, and I want to read Albert’s letter,” she called over her shoulder.

The violet and gray silk fringe that edged the bodice and sleeves of the wool dress swayed in time with her steps as Jasmine hurried up the steps to the small room she had converted into a schoolroom for her son.

Spencer was leaning out the single window in the tiny room with only his lower body remaining inside the framework.

“That’s a dangerous position, Spencer. Come back inside before you fall and hurt yourself,” Jasmine warned. “Have you finished your lessons?”

“On the table,” he replied as he wriggled his upper torso back inside. “Can I go fishing if they’re all correct?”

“Do you never tire of fishing?” she inquired with a soft smile.

“It’s the only good thing about being in Mississippi. It remains warm enough to fish nearly all year long, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes nature will play a trick upon us and we’ll have unpleasant weather for a good deal of the winter,” she said absently as she checked his figures.

“Will we be home for Christmas?” he asked.

“You know that’s impossible, Spencer. I don’t know why you’d even entertain such a notion. Even if all of the cotton had been picked, we couldn’t possibly prepare to return to Massachusetts by year’s end.”

His head drooped until it nearly rested upon his narrow chest. “I know, but I want to go home.”

His plea wrenched Jasmine’s heart. She knew her son was unhappy, and she couldn’t blame him. Since the incident at school he’d become reluctant to leave The Willows. Even attending church had become a battle. Forcing him to sit in the same pew with some of those same boys who had raised their fists against him seemed cruel.

She tousled his brown waves and pulled him close. “I want to go home too. This is a difficult time for all of us, but we must complete what we came here to do. Once we return home, all of this will soon be forgotten.”

The look in Spencer’s eyes revealed he wouldn’t soon forget the beating he’d taken, yet Jasmine knew both prayer and time could heal his internal wounds and make him an even stronger person. Suffering at Bradley’s hands had made her stronger, and now she seldom thought of those frightful years when she was his wife. The same transformation could happen to Spencer.

“I miss Moses. I tried making friends with some of the slave boys, but they don’t want to be my friend.”

“They are no longer slaves,” Jasmine corrected. “Most likely they are skeptical of your motives. Don’t take it to heart. They will come around in time.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. Jasmine ached for her son’s misery. She went to the table and quickly scanned his arithmetic.

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed as she wiped the slate clean. “If time at the pond is what you want, then off with you. But promise me you’ll be home in time for supper.”

His face brightened. “I promise. And maybe I’ll bring some fish home with me.”

The two of them walked downstairs together. Jasmine watched as Spencer ran off to fetch his fishing pole, and once he was out of sight, she returned to the library.

Nolan glanced up as she walked into the room. “That was a quick lesson.”

“I was merely checking his work, not giving him a lesson. His answers were all correct, so now he’s off to the pond to catch some fish. He’s terribly unhappy and longs to go home,” she said, sitting down opposite the mahogany desk that had belonged to her father.

Nolan tilted his head to one side. “I believe that’s true for all of us.”

“That’s what I told him, but that fact doesn’t lessen his own misery. He misses Moses and being in school with his other friends, not to mention being in familiar surroundings. He’s been isolated since the episode at school. Even the former slave children want nothing to do with him.”

“I realize that, my dear, but we can’t change what is in the past or force friendships. Like most children, Spencer is resilient.”

“He deeply resents that we brought him here,” she said in a faint whisper.

“And you’re now feeling blameworthy for what happened at school. We made the proper decision, Jasmine. The event at school does not change the fact that Spencer belongs with us. Please promise me that you won’t continue down this path of self-recrimination.”

“I promise—but it won’t be easy.” Her gaze fell upon the missive lying open upon the desk.

“What did Paddy have to say? Any good news?”

Nolan laughed. “It seems he’s met a girl. He says she fancies herself quite the expert on horses. From the sound of things, he may have met his match, though he says she’s a bit too high and mighty for his liking. Apparently she lives at Elinor’s boardinghouse instead of in the Acre. When he offered to help her find a place in the Acre, she told him she’d live where she pleased and it wasn’t in the Acre.”

“Dear me! I can’t imagine Paddy taking it upon himself to tell a young lady where she should live. No wonder the girl spoke her mind.”

Nolan laughed. “That’s not the worst of it. Seems he was having difficulty with one of the horses, and she told him how to correct the problem using Baucher’s method. He had never heard of the technique, and she quickly put him in his place.”

“And did he take her advice?”

“He did. And it worked! However, it seems she may have taken a liking to Timothy Rourke. Who knows? Our Paddy may be wed by the time we return to Lowell.”

Jasmine clasped the fringed bodice of her dress. “Don’t even think such a thing! We’ll be home much too soon for any weddings to occur. In fact, given the tenor of Albert Cameron’s letter, I think we should truly consider leaving at the earliest opportunity. I’m afraid we are going to be dramatically impacted by the events occurring at home. There are likely matters that need our attention even as we speak.”

“What would you have me do? I see no alternative other than to complete the task at hand. Once the cotton is ready for shipment, we’ll leave—even if we haven’t sold The Willows. I know McKinley will object, but if selling the plantation is the only thing that prohibits our return home, we’ll place it in the hands of someone we trust. Someone who will bargain for the best possible price.”

“I am in complete agreement. And should McKinley find fault with our decision, then he may handle the sale himself. My hope is that we can return by spring. Poor Alice Ann believes her pony will be all grown up before she returns home to ride the animal again.”

“Yes. She’s mentioned her concern to me on several occasions. But I told her she was going to have many years to ride her horse.” Nolan walked around the desk and gently pulled Jasmine from her seat and into his arms. “Please don’t fret about the children. Once we return home, their bad memories will fade. We’ve done the proper thing by coming here. Giving your father’s slaves their freedom and enough money to begin a new life is worth the few sacrifices we’ve been forced to make.”

Jasmine lifted her face and looked into Nolan’s deep blue eyes. “Who could ever ask for a better man than you? No wonder I love you so much.”

She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of his arms as they tightened around her waist. He captured her lips in a long, lingering kiss, and she knew she could never love another.

Elinor poured two cups of tea—one for herself and one for Justin Chamberlain. Since his return from Maine, he had begun stopping by the boardinghouse regularly—once or twice a week—generally seeking advice regarding Reggie’s behavior or requesting Elinor’s assistance with a church function.

Through the weeks, they had formed a comfortable companionship, and Elinor now looked forward to his visits, particularly when they were discussing an idea for one of his sermons. Justin’s visits helped provide balance to her life, an escape from her routine housework and meal preparation.

“You appear preoccupied,” Elinor remarked after Justin had failed to answer her question.

“What? I’m sorry . . . my mind was elsewhere.”

She laughed. “That’s what I said—you appear preoccupied. Is it something you’d care to discuss?”

Justin appeared rather sheepish as he looked up from his cup of tea. “Actually, I’ve come to ask another favor of you, and I’ve been searching for some way to broach the topic.”

“There’s no need for such tactics between friends. You merely need ask. If I can help, I will be pleased to do so,” she said in her no-nonsense manner.

He gave a nervous laugh. “I need a place for Reggie to stay all next week.”

“Why would you hesitate to ask? You know I’m fond of Reggie. If we didn’t enjoy one another’s company, she wouldn’t stop here on her way home from school each day,” Elinor said. “You need only tell me when she’ll arrive.”

“You are very kind. I must leave for Boston early Monday morning and hope to return Friday evening.”

“In that event, it would be best if she stayed with me Sunday night. That way you can leave on the early train. In fact, why don’t you and Reggie join me for supper Sunday evening—if you have no other plans,” she added hastily.

“I fear your kindness causes me to impose upon you,” he said sheepishly. “However, joining you for supper is very appealing. Are you certain you’ll go to no trouble on our account?”

“I promise,” she replied. “May I tell Reggie of our plan when she stops to see me after school today, or would you prefer to tell her yourself?”

Justin gave her a feeble smile. “She knows I must go to Boston. She said that if I didn’t come and ask you today, she would do so herself. There was little doubt in my mind she would carry through with her promise.”

“Then I will tell her the arrangements have been completed.”