The Pattern of Her Heart (30 page)

Jasmine leaned heavily against Nolan’s chest, clutching his arm, as they surveyed the plantation, unable to believe the devastation that surrounded them. Fires burned in varying degrees throughout the plantation. Unremitting flames snaked across the acreage, licking and scorching every vestige of habitation lying in their destructive path. Smoke curled upward and spread across the sky like a giant blanket that had been unfolded to hide the starlit heavens. The heavy stench seeped downward and filled their nostrils—a continuous reminder of the fire’s catastrophic obliteration.

Fear swelled through Jasmine, clawing at her with an unrelenting insistence. “We must see if anyone has survived. All of the servants were in the house, even Martha and Henrietta.” Her voice was shrill and cut through the February air. “There doesn’t appear to be anyone attempting to put out the fires.”

Nolan wrapped her in a protective embrace. “We can’t possibly contain these fires. It’s much too late for that. The most we can hope for is to find the servants alive.”

“Look over dere, Miz Jasmine,” Pr issy exclaimed. “Someone’s wavin’ a white cloth from behind da tree.”

Nolan cupped his hands to his mouth. “Who’s there? This is Nolan Houston—come out and show yourself.”

Jasmine squinted as she attempted to make out the figure running toward them. “I believe it’s . . . Yes! It’s Henrietta. Henrietta!” she called. “Praise God, you are safe! Where are the others? Martha? The house servants? All of the former slaves that were down in the quarters? Can you tell us anything?”

Henrietta dropped to the ground and began to weep in deep inconsolable sobs, her body heaving up and down as she clung to the hem of Jasmine’s gown.

Nolan hurried to where she sat and helped her to her feet. “Let me assist you into the carriage, where you and Jasmine may sit and talk,” he urged.

“You’re safe now, Henrietta,” Jasmine whispered as she pulled the woman close and patted her back. “Please tell us what happened. You’re the only person we’ve been able to locate.”

Henrietta nodded her head up and down as she appeared to choke back her sobs. “It was terrible, Miss Jasmine, just terrible. Martha was overcome by the smoke. I pulled her out of the house, but I don’t know if she’s alive. I’m ashamed to say I was afraid to remain. After all, what could one woman do against all that? I ran out here to hide,” she cried, beginning to weep once again.

“It’s all right. You did the right thing, Henrietta. What about the others? Did any of them survive?”

“The men took all the colored folks from the house and the quarters. I heard a gunshot, and then someone yelled that they’d shot Mr. Draper. I don’t know if it’s true—I’ve been afraid to show myself for fear they would kill me too.”

“What do you mean the men took all the colored folks?” Jasmine asked. “What men?”

“The men that started the fire,” she gasped.

Jasmine and Nolan exchanged a worried look, but it was Nolan who spoke. “You say they took the coloreds—did they not put up a fight?”

“Those men had guns, Mr. Houston, and I heard them yelling back and forth. They put all of them in chains so they couldn’t run off. I kept praying you would return or that one of the neighbors would come down the road on their way home. I kept praying someone, anyone, would come and help.”

“What did these men look like, Henrietta. Did you know them?”

“They were white, riding horses—a few carriages too, but mostly on horseback. They were dressed in fine clothes, but I don’t know folks from around these parts. I heard one of them laugh and say something about paying a neighborly visit.”

Nolan slapped his top hat on his leg. “This is an outrage! There’s no doubt these fires were set by the very men who were at that party this evening. I’d venture to guess they weren’t in John Woodson’s library at all—they were out setting fire to our plantation while they knew Woodson would keep us occupied at his party. Every one of them took part in this travesty.”

Prissy leaned forward from the rear seat of the carriage, tears lining her cheeks. “D’ya know what happened to my Toby, Miz Henrietta?”

“They took him—they took all the house servants first and put them in chains. Some of the riders had gone to the slave quarters, and that’s when I heard the gunshot. Soon after they brought all the others back to the main house, where they chained and put them in the wagons. I was still hidden near the house and knew I had to get away from there before they spotted me.” A look of terror sparked in her eyes and she hesitated a moment. “Do you think they took Martha?”

Nolan slowly shook his head back and forth. “No. I don’t think they would take a white woman. They came with shackles and chains in order to steal the coloreds and force them back into slavery. I’ll go and see if I can find Martha. You say she was outside the rear of the house?”

“Yes, sir. Behind the big trees along the path to the water troughs.”

Jasmine grasped Nolan’s arm. “Wait a moment, please. It sounds as though a rider’s approaching—or is it my imagination?”

“You’re right; someone is coming down the road. I’d best wait and see who it is. I’d like to think it’s someone coming to lend a hand, but I don’t know who that would be since it appears as if all of our neighbors took part in this devastation.”

“Looks like it might be Rupert—and I’d guess that he smells like smoke.” Jasmine climbed out of the carriage at the same time that Prissy grabbed a blanket from off the front carriage seat and scooted into the far corner beside the children, being careful to pull the cover over herself. Fortunately, the girls were sound asleep, and Spencer was watching in wide-eyed silence.

“Are you cold, Prissy?” Jasmine asked.

“No, ma’am, just wantin’ to stay out of the way,” the girl meekly replied only moments before Rupert reined his horse to a halt beside the carriage.

He tipped his hat and directed a wide grin at Jasmine. “Cousin,” he greeted. “Appears you’ve been forced out of this place.”

“These fires were intentionally set, and we know that you and your friends are responsible,” she accused, “and to think you call yourselves gentlemen. You’re all a disgrace to mankind.”

“Careful, Jasmine. You’ve already made enough enemies in these parts with your judgmental attitude and quick tongue. Just as these fires were meant to deliver a message, I’m here to enlighten you. You and your kind are not wanted in the South—it’s best you realize that before it’s too late.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out some folded papers.

She emitted a wounded laugh. “Too late for
what
? There is nothing remaining,
cousin
. You and your legion of pathetic followers have already destroyed or taken everything we own, so you may feel free to tell your cohorts we will leave when we are ready and not a moment before. And merely as a matter of curiosity, what does Lydia think of your behavior? Even through the most difficult times, the Wainwrights have protected and defended one another. Does she know of your involvement in this unspeakable affair?”

“Indeed, Lydia
is
a Wainwright, and though both Lydia and I hold familial ties to you, our Southern heritage and beliefs go beyond a loyalty to family bloodlines—especially when the family members involved have pledged their allegiance to the abolitionist North. And you, my dear cousin, are no longer a Southern Wainwright—you are a Yankee Houston,” Rupert retorted, his face now contorted with anger. “So far as we’re concerned, you need to take your family and abolitionist ideas and return to where you came from.”

Nolan stepped forward and positioned himself between Rupert and Jasmine. “You need to remember whom you’re talking to, Rupert. I’ll not tolerate any more of your abusive behavior. I demand the immediate return of the people you kidnapped from this plantation.”

“
People? Kidnapped?
You mean those slaves? They’ve been taken to other plantations where they belong
and
where their labor is needed.”

“They are
not
slaves. Jasmine has signed their papers— every one of them is free, and you have no more right to hold them than you would me.”

“Don’t tempt me, Nolan,” Rupert sneered.

“If they are not immediately returned, I shall take this matter to the law. I intend to see each person who participated in this heinous deed prosecuted to the fullest extent possible.”

Rupert’s laughed was filled with a sadistic ring. “Do you now? Well, before you go and make a fool of yourself, let me tell you that it was the law that helped plan and carry out our strategy. You can rest assured you’ll receive no help from any lawman in these parts.”

“You’ve delivered your message. Now I’m telling you to leave our property.”

“Well, that is another matter entirely. You see, I have papers here that show you’ve agreed to turn the property over to me. After all, the fire destroyed everything of value and you have no reason to hold the property any longer.” Rupert grinned as he threw the papers at Nolan’s feet.

“We’ve agreed to no such thing,” Jasmine protested. “I’ll not give you The Willows. Not now—not ever!”

“But my dear, you already have. I have witnesses who will vouch for that fact—testify under oath—that they saw you willingly sign those papers.”

Nolan picked the papers up. It was impossible to read them, but Jasmine quickly went to see what they might say. “You won’t get away with this. I’ll go to town and tell the judge everything that has happened.”

“You do that, cousin. You’ll find, however, if you look those papers over, Judge Weston is one of the people who witnessed our transfer of ownership.” Rupert gave a maniacal laugh.

“You’ve said what you wanted to say. Now leave,” Nolan commanded.

“Not without Prissy. Come on out of there, girl,” Rupert called. “I see you hiding under the cover. Don’t be making me wait—get on out here.”

“Prissy isn’t going anywhere with you. Get out of here,” Jasmine ordered, her fists balled in anger.

“Why don’t you let Prissy answer for herself? Come on out, Prissy, and I’ll take you to that fellow you’re so fond of—Toby, isn’t it? I know you don’t want to see him take a lashing, so why don’t you hurry out of there,” Rupert said with a cruel smile curling his lips.

Jasmine rushed to the carriage as Prissy dropped the blanket and stepped out. “You’re not thinking of going with him, are you?” she whispered while grasping the girl by her thin shoulders.

Tears streaked Prissy’s cheeks. “I don’ want Toby gettin’ no lashing on my account,” she murmured.

“Don’t you see he’s lying to you, Prissy? He’s not going to take you to Toby. He’s not going to do what any of us want. He’ll either keep you or sell you to the highest bidder, but he’s not going to reunite you with Toby. Rupert Hesston isn’t going to do anything that would please anyone except himself. Have I ever lied to you, Prissy?”

“No, ma’am, but iffen I can help Toby . . .”

“That’s just it, Prissy. You can’t help Toby. None of us can. Think of your baby,” she whispered. “Toby wouldn’t want his baby to grow up in slavery. Would he?”

“No. But I don’ care nothing ’bout this child right now; I care ’bout Toby,” Prissy insisted.

“There, you see—she wants to come with me. Let her be, Jasmine. You say she’s free, yet you attempt to hold her against her will,” Rupert said. “Apparently you haven’t truly freed your slaves.”

“We’s free,” Prissy hissed. “She’s jest tryin’ to make me see what’s best.”

“You know what’s best, Prissy,” Rupert said with an evil look in his eye. “Now get over here.”

She stiffened. “No, suh, I ain’t going, and you can’t make me.” Her voice was trembling with fear as she took cover behind Jasmine. “He can’t, can he?” she whispered.

“I want you off this property immediately!” Nolan commanded. “Get out and don’t ever return.”

“Prissy belongs to me. I won’t leave without her.”

“You’ll leave now.” Nolan stepped forward, his hand going to the inside pocket of his coat. Jasmine wondered at his actions. Nolan never carried a gun, but it appeared he was about to draw one now.

“Very well. I’ll leave, but I’ll be back. And when I return, I’ll have help with me. You think you have nothing left? Remember, you still have your children—but perhaps not for long. You have your lives as well. You’re going to be sorry for your actions here tonight,” he threatened. “You have my word. We’ll be watching you. When you come to town, I’ll get Prissy then and no threat of yours will stop me. You’ll be lucky if you even make it as far as town.”

He mounted the bay gelding, jerked on the reins, and kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks. They stood watching as the horse carried him down the road at breakneck speed.

“Why is he so insistent upon having Prissy?” Jasmine asked. They both looked to the girl who was now backing up toward the carriage.

Jasmine realized there would be no answer from her and turned her gaze once again to her husband. “He’s taken The Willows and everyone else. Nolan, he surely means to see us in complete defeat.”

“No, I believe he very well means to see us dead,” Nolan said in a whisper only Jasmine could hear.