Secret Way to the Heart

by Camille Regholec

  They use the word confederate as if it is a new term that explains their reason for separating. In reality, it means nations that have formed an alliance for a common purpose, which is the same thing as the word united and makes a mockery of all our country has stood for.

  Not a day goes by without a rally cry in the streets for volunteer soldiers. Oh, Clara, how I wish the world would be a place of peace and unity for our child to be born into! I miss you so much, my darling. I miss the touch of your hand, the smile that lights your eyes, and the scent of the rose water you use to rinse your hair. I grow morose knowing I am missing the sight of our child growing inside you.

  Mother, your last letter reached me, and I was encouraged at the news that my darling is bearing up well during this time. Jayne also sounds as chipper as ever. I pray, Mother, that your influenza has cleared up and Father Marc is getting stronger.

  As a doctor, I feel frustrated that I cannot be with you at this time, and as every day brings us closer to spring and the birth of my first child and your first grandchild, I am sure you can understand, Mother, my concern for my family’s well-being. But I know that Clara and the child are in the best earthly hands heaven could provide.

  Know my love grows stronger with each passing day, and I will pray for a miracle that I may be able to be there for the birth. Nothing is impossible with God.

  Love with all my heart, Jim

  Chapter 10

  “Is that a letter for me?” Clara entered the room, her left hand pressed on her bulging abdomen.

  “It must be becoming harder to send mail from the South because this is a letter to the family, instead of just to you, my dear.” Jayne's mother smiled as she held up the correspondence from Jim. No one had written Jim the whole truth about Clara’s condition or attitude. Her parents and Jayne prayed nightly that the pregnancy would be a trouble free one and that both mother and child would thrive.

  Jayne, sitting beside the writing table, could not help the concern that filled her heart as she watched the young mother-to-be cross the room. This was not an easy time for Clara. She had gained much weight in the last several weeks and now seemed to be suffering from almost daily headaches and swollen ankles.

  Clara grabbed the foolscap from Jayne's mother and, without a word of thanks, turned to leave. “Let me see what your dear son and brother has to say to his abandoned wife.”

  “Sarcasm,” Jayne's mother mumbled as she watched the young woman leave.

  As time went on, Clara became more and more inactive. Jayne, entering the house, would see Clara lying awkwardly on the chaise lounge, the young woman’s pouting lips evidence of her complete disdain for where she was and who she must be with.

  Jayne knew her mother desperately wanted her to try to like Clara, but Jayne found it hard to locate anything to like. Clara had clearly been spoiled by her parents as a child, and Jim had continued in the same manner.

  The problem was, Jayne was becoming uncomfortably aware of some similarities between herself and her sister-in-law. Jayne’s failings were clearly apparent to others as well when she overheard a conversation between her mother and Hannah.

  “Oh, Hannah,” Jayne's mother said as she was folding linen one afternoon, “My daughter is as helpless as I was at that age! I doubt if she would have fared any better in the circumstances that have occurred in my past. I pray she never experiences them, but even so, Jayne does not have the qualifications to be a good wife and housekeeper.”

  “It seems Clara’s influence might be swayin’ enough to cause a change to Jayne’s manners.” Hannah frowned as she folded a napkin. “One spoiled person who is polite like Jayne can be handled, but two snippy ones under the same roof is almost more than I can bear. But God is in control.”

  “I agree. Even Marc is getting irritated, snapping at the bad behavior rather than laughing about it as he had in the past.”

  “I believe Jayne may surprise you on what she will do if the need arises. She’s always maintained a sweet demeanor,” Hannah murmured. “Unlike some others.”

  “True. But we cannot judge Clara based on our observations of her behavior during her condition, nor compare her to Jayne.”

  “No, but you do see certain things be the same.”

  “Yes, clearly both young ladies see helping with chores as an unpleasant task and must be forced or coerced into doing anything,” Jayne's mother admitted. “I must ask God’s forgiveness, for I see how I raised Jayne to be dependent on her family rather than on God and her own abilities.”

  For a moment, all was silent before her mother spoke up, and Jayne was horrified to hear such distress in her mother’s voice. “What have I done?”

  “Don’t you worry none, my dear. Jayne is smart enough to know right from wrong. If I was a betting woman, which I’m not, I’d say you’ll be seeing a change in attitude before long.”

  “I hope so.” Jayne's mother sighed. “I really do.”

  As Jayne slipped back to her room, Hannah’s comments made Jayne wonder. Could she see me standing behind the door? Was her mother and Hannah correct in their evaluation of her? A deep sorrow filled her. Mother was right. Both she and Clara were incapable, or unwilling, of doing the simplest of things. Clara undoubtedly had servants who did the chores, while Jayne just let her mother, Hannah, and Mary take care of everything. Oh, Lord, I am so sorry for taking everything for granted!

  But the distress in her mother’s voice pierced Jayne’s heart with remorse. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Help me to become the daughter my parents deserve. Jayne vowed that her mother would see a change immediately. She would begin to take her duties seriously.

  Jayne began to help with the most tiresome of tasks such as dusting, and even the ones that she found surprisingly quite enjoyable such as baking. Jayne discovered she had a touch for creating beautiful pies and cakes. So flaky were the crusts and fluffy the cakes that Mary offered her the job of baking for the eatery.

  “I have a job!” Jayne shouted as she hugged her mother gleefully. “I have a job!”

  “God has clearly given you a talent, my dear,” her mother agreed. “Now you must be prepared to use that talent responsibly.”

  “Oh, I will!” Jayne nodded. She let go of her mother and twirled in a circle in the parlor. “Just think, I can help you and father with our daily expenses.”

  “My dear.” her mother grabbed her handkerchief and wiped her wet eyes. “That you think of others before yourself is an answer to a prayer.”

  “Well, it’s only right,” Jayne mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, embarrassed at her mother’s praise. To lighten their mood, she laughed as she gave her mother a nudge. “But don’t stop praying for me. My first paycheck is going toward buying me a new pair of Sunday shoes!”

  Jayne’s sudden change in attitude toward the household chores had her mother teasing her one washday. “Is it possible Clara, this Southern child of God’s, was sent to us to help you, Jayne, draw closer to Him?”

  As the crocuses died and the daffodils began to unfurl, all the women in the van Hoyton house were sewing, crocheting, or knitting a wardrobe for the soon-to-be-delivered child. Jayne found such needlework tedious, but when she received praise from Clara for a beautiful little sweater and booty set she’d made, Jayne wondered if God was using all the women in the house to try and reach this lost Southern child of His.

  Unexpectedly, Jayne's father’s nephew, Joel, sent a letter requesting them to pay him a visit, but her mother wrote back, extending an invitation in return. She explained her husband's fragile state and Clara’s swiftly approaching time of delivery. Jayne was thrilled at the news that she would finally be able to show off her cousin to the neighbors.

  “Your cousin Joel is still a very handsome man,” Clara said one evening as Jayne helped her prepare for bed. “It is a shame he may arrive before
I have recovered from this condition.”

  “Why is it a shame?” Jayne asked as she finished brushing her sister-in-law’s long, golden hair. “I am sure he has observed many of his friends’ wives while they were pregnant. I am sure he will be thrilled to know there will be an addition to the family.”

  “This is not an addition to his family, my dear. This child carries no van Hoyton blood nor carries the name,” Clara stated as if her meaning was clear. “This child is only a McTierney.”

  “Well, this baby is part of my family, no matter his or her last name,” Jayne retorted as she placed the hairbrush onto the dresser top with a bang. She quickly twisted Clara’s locks into a braid and tied it together with a ribbon. “And you should be happy to carry a McTierney, as it is your husband’s name.”

  “Hopefully, the baby, whatever his or her name, will amount to something one day,” Clara responded as she climbed into bed and turned her face away from Jayne, clearly dismissing her. “But it will take several lifetimes before it carries the power of my family name or the influence of the name of the van Hoyton’s.”

  That conversation with Clara caused Jayne many a sleepless night. Jayne looked upon her cousin as elderly since he was closer in age to her father, but ever since Joel’s arrival, it became clear Clara did not see him that way.

  Jayne unhappily watched the very pregnant woman openly flirt with him. His attention to Clara shocked Jayne even more as it seemed blatantly indecent.

  They would take short walks away from the house, deep in conversation. If Jayne happened to come upon them, the two would immediately stop their whispering and Clara would let out a tinkling laugh as she greeted Jayne. Clearly, whatever they were discussing was not to be shared with anyone else.

  Jayne wanted to say something to her father, but he was so overjoyed at seeing his nephew after years of separation. Jayne was not sure he would believe Joel was causing problems in Jim’s marriage.

  Jayne, sickened by the woman’s obvious infatuation with Joel, blurted out her feelings to her mother on the porch one night when they unexpectedly were alone. Apparently, her mother was aware of something going on, but also kept silent because of her husband.

  “I cannot stand it!” Jayne muttered in disgust. “Has she forgotten she is a married woman? A married woman who is expecting?”

  “Women sometimes act strangely when it is close to the time of the birth. Some become nesters, preparing the home for the child’s arrival,” her mother tried to explain. “But Clara is not in her home, so she behaves another way. She wants to know that when a man sees her, he will find her desirable. She may fear Jim will not find her so.”

  “Jim? I do not think Clara is thinking of my brother at all! Jim would find her behavior detestable!” Jayne commented, the memory of that conversation over family names haunting her. “Are you sure she is not trying to catch a new husband?”

  “I don’t believe Clara would stoop so low.” her mother gave a small laugh as she patted her daughter’s hand. Jayne was not as confident as her mother.

  Jayne reluctantly followed her mother’s example, but one night at dinner, listening as Joel talked about New York City and their need to stay connected to the South caused her almost as much worry as Clara’s behavior.

  The Reverend Jeremiah had also been invited to sup with them that day, and the conversation had taken a turn that was disturbing. Apparently before dinner, Joel had read in the newspaper of a captain on trial for slave trading, who now faced the death penalty.

  Joel spoke angrily. “They should leave the ship captains alone. Why arrest a man for doing business with the Southern plantation owners? His being taken into custody for having brought slaves into the New York harbor is unfair. They have to dock because of the currents, and no one should care about the cargo he carries. That is his business.”

  “Someone has to care for those poor souls chained below deck, lying among the dead and dying, in their own feces, and being taken who knows where to be slaves,” Jeremiah replied as red spots of color appeared on his cheeks. Jayne was amazed at the depth of feeling that was in his voice. “I agree the death sentence is severe, but some would consider it the captain’s just desserts.”

  “No ‘just desserts’ will be forthcoming,” Joel snarled back, “so long as James J. Roosevelt is the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York. He has been a member of the state assembly, a congressman, and a justice of the New York Supreme Court. He may now be old and facing retirement, but he’s not about to undertake the prosecution in a capital trial of an accused slave trader. He also shared President James Buchanan’s avowed refusal to hang a man for slave trading, despite the law.”

  “That may be true, my dear nephew,” Jayne's father answered. “But we have a new president. And Lincoln has much different views on the subject and on people who think they can get away with breaking the laws.”

  “We will see, won’t we?” There was a smugness to Joel that worried Jayne. Her elder cousin seemed to have secrets he was not willing to share, because it gave him the upper hand. “And remember, uncle, if this talk of war does not cease, your business with the South, and everywhere else, will end.”

  Several days passed, and Jayne, in a desire to get away from the house, went to lend a hand to Mary at the eatery. When the baking was done for the week, Jayne decided to wash the mountain of dirty dishes that seemed never to end.

  “Never criticize dirty dishes, Jayne,” Mary remarked as she dumped another batch down into the hot, sudsy water. “It means our business is a success!”

  Lost in thought, Jayne scrubbed away, trying to imagine being married and caring for a family. That mounds of dirty dishes would be part of the future didn’t bother her for she pictured children with curly, brown hair clamoring for her attention.

  As if her daydreams had come to life, Jayne suddenly recognized the Southern drawl of Jeremiah Bronson’s voice above the chatter of the many customers enjoying their meals. It amazed her that her ears could distinguish his voice among so many! The day suddenly felt brighter, and for a moment, Jayne struggled with the temptation to take a quick look. Giving in, Jayne found herself drawn to the warm tones of the man’s voice as a puppy was to table scraps. She tiptoed over to the curtain that separated the kitchen from the main room. Just one quick glance at him, and I’ll get back to work. She had to be careful not to let him see her as she was once again wearing her oldest dress and her hair was falling out of a sloppy knot on her head. She drank in the sight of his broad shoulders and curly hair for a moment or two before she became aware of the companions he was dining with.

  Jayne was surprised to see two barge captains sitting with him, talking in low whispers. As the dining tables were long narrow planks on sawhorses, one did not necessarily have a choice of who to sit beside, but it was apparent this was a planned meeting. The talk was about some shipments being waylaid and the Southern helpers having to stop for now. What that was about she did not know, but what she heard next shocked her almost as much as the fact the men were telling this to the pastor.

  She slipped out the back door and ran home, her mind in turmoil at what sort of connection Jeremiah could have with such men. Why were they telling him the news in such hushed tones?

  “Have you heard?” Jayne burst into the room, shattering the peaceful quiet her parents seemed to have been enjoying together. Jayne glanced around, fully expecting Clara to be close by. The puzzled look on her parents’ faces had Jayne asking again, “Have you heard?”

  “What, my dear?” Jayne's mother glanced behind her . “Is Clara with you?”

  “No. I just came from the eatery.” Jayne also looked behind to see if Clara would appear. When she did not, Jayne heard her mother let out a deep sigh of relief. Even in her excitement, Jayne marveled at how powerful the lack of Clara’s presence was. But Jayne had more important thin
gs to think about.

  “I believe Jeremiah is a spy! I heard him talking about rounding up slaves.”

  “I am sure you are mistaken, my dear,” her father replied, glancing at his wife, who nodded. “Jeremiah is—”

  “He also was speaking about how Fort Sumter was going to be attacked,” Jayne continued.

  “I knew the South would keep their word!” Clara exclaimed as she entered the room. “You’ll see. Fort Sumter won’t be the last fort taken, and more states will leave this corrupt union.”

  “I’m sure this will be a short takeover, Clara,” Jayne's father remarked. “Surely no other state would do such a foolish thing as leave the United States.”

  “It’s not foolishness nor will it be just South Carolina. It will be all the Southern states!” Clara declared hotly. “No one is going to tell us how to run our states or who can have slaves or not!”

  “Ladies, please! Let not the war enter this house!” Jayne's mother interjected.

  “Oh it already has, Mother dear,” Clara said smugly as she sat down across from her, defiance in her eyes. “The minute secession was declared in my home state, war was declared in my heart.”

  “I pray your heart softens to the truth.”

  “What is truth?”

  “Why, God’s truth, my dear.”

  “Your truth may not be God’s truth!” Clara spat out. “Throughout the Bible, there are accounts of slavery. Even Israel’s son Joseph was a slave!”

  “Yes, he was,” Jayne's mother acceded. “Betrayed and sold by his own family, but he was also freed and became second-in-command to Pharaoh. Generations later, God sent Moses to free the Israelites from their slavery and lead them to the Promised Land. Does that not show that God wants people free?”