“It can be done, sir,” Cage said mildly. “The question is whether you are willing to do it.”
Morgan’s head snapped toward the attorney, and he saw the kindness and understanding on his face. Resignedly Morgan sat back down. “I don’t suppose I have much time to consider it, do I?”
“It would be hard for Jolie. Mr. DeForge is to be sent to Baltimore tomorrow, and Box and Cleo are returning with him. He brought them from Baltimore when he moved, you know, and to them it’s still home because they have family there. So Jolie would be at DeForge House alone.”
“Tomorrow?” Morgan passed his hand across his forehead. “Of course, he died three days ago. It’s just all happened so fast, to me. Yes, I see what you mean, Mr. Cage. I’ll go get Jolie tomorrow. First thing in the morning. I apologize, sir, but I’m extremely tired now, and I’d like to go home. May I make an appointment with you later to discuss the details?”
“Certainly, Mr. Tremayne. I’ll be happy to see you at any time,” he said courteously. They rose, and Morgan started toward the door, but Cage said, “Mr. Tremayne? There is one more thing I should tell you now.”
“Yes? What is that?”
“In my last conversation with Mr. DeForge, he told me to tell you this: that he knew he had never been able to show it, and he could certainly never say it, but he loved you. He loved you as if you were his own son.”
The next day was a dreary, depressing day indeed. It had snowed throughout the night, and Morgan had slept very little. He was awake for most of the night worrying. A darkened dawn brought more lowering gray clouds, a portent of more snow to come.
He called Amon and the family together after he picked at his breakfast. “I don’t know how to say this, except just to say it. When Mr. DeForge died, he named me as Jolie’s guardian. She’s coming to live here. Today.”
None of them were surprised. Evetta nodded and said, “Lawyers might be tight-mouthed, but servants ain’t. Cleo and Box knew, and they told us.”
“Guess I must have been the last to know then,” Morgan said dryly. “So I’m sure you see that it’s put me in a bad position. I didn’t even realize until yesterday that Jolie is almost fifteen. To me she’s just a little girl. Anyway, I can’t possibly have her living here with me alone. Evetta, Amon, would it be all right with you if Ketura moves in, and she can serve as our maid? I guess it might seem silly to you, since you just live right out the back door, but to me it makes a difference who’s under my roof.”
“We allus knew something like that, Mr. Tremayne,” Amon said. “Ketura, here, she’s already volunteered to be Miss Jolie’s maid. It ain’t silly, neither. It might only look more proper, but there you are. It looks more proper.”
“Good,” Morgan said with relief. “That’s one problem overcome. Now for the big thing. How are we going to get Jolie and her things moved here? You know I’ll have to bring her bedroom furniture. None of the three spare bedrooms have anything. Oh—Ketura, do you have a bed?”
“Sure I do, Mr. Tremayne,” she said, smiling. “My daddy made me a nice bed and my very own chiffarobe. It even has a long mirror on the door. Don’t you ’member? You bought the mirror for me, a long time ago when I was little.”
Vaguely Morgan recalled helping Amon, Rosh, and little Santo build furniture to furnish their two cottages, though he couldn’t recall about the mirror. “Okay, Amon, can you and the boys go ahead and quick-quick get Ketura’s things moved in here? I’m going to put Jolie in the bedroom just across from me, and Ketura’s will be next to hers. The reason I’m hurrying you is because I’m afraid it’s going to start snowing again,” he said, casting a cautious look out the window. “I can’t figure out how to get Jolie and her things moved here.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “It’s hard for me to think straight.”
“Mr. Tremayne, we’ll git that little girl here today. Don’t you worry. And her furnishings and stuff. Me and the boys’ll get Ketura moved in, and then we’ll bring the wagon over to DeForge’s and load her up.”
“How? There’s already six inches of snow on the ground. You know, Amon, that the only path over there is a bridle path. How can we get the wagon over there and back with a heavy load of furniture?”
“Muscle it through,” Amon said. “Me and Rosh know that we can double-team Ace and Calliope, and they can do it.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Morgan admitted. “Yes, you’re probably right. But still, what about Jolie? She can’t ride, and it might take us hours to get the wagon through.”
“It might. You’re just going to have to go fetch her,” Amon said. “She can ride back with you. But you better take Philemon, sir. You know that Vulcan devil ain’t gonna allow no two human bein’s on his back.”
Morgan managed a small smile. “I’m glad you’re thinking, Amon, because I’m sure not. I worried all night about this and just couldn’t reason it out. Never been so muddle-headed in my life,” he added in an undertone. Rising, he said, “Then I’m going right over to get Jolie. Seems like all of you are ready, even if I’m not.”
Evetta said, “Me and Ketura are cooking up some good solid food for dinner, Mr. Tremayne. You bring that child straight on home. She don’t need to be rattling around in that dead house by herself not one minute longer than she has to.”
Morgan got his heavy overcoat and wool slouch hat. When he went out the back door, he saw that Amon apparently had already saddled Philemon, which was his own horse, a big gentle chestnut gelding. Morgan marveled again at how much his servants knew and how clear-headed they were thinking, while he felt like he was wandering around in a stupor. “Thanks, Amon. See you shortly.”
Morgan was much preoccupied during the short ride. The Wilderness bordered both his and DeForge’s properties, and the ride between the farms skirted the northern edge of the forest. Normally he would be enchanted by the snow scene, but on this day he barely looked around.
When he reached DeForge House, he noted that there was not one slave out anywhere. All of the slave cabins’ chimneys had threads of smoke coming out of them, so Morgan figured they must all still be there. No one came to take his horse.
He made his way to the house and knocked hesitantly. Immediately the door flew open, and Jolie stood there. “Oh, you’ve come,” she cried. “I–I’ve been afraid—afraid.”
Morgan came in and shed his overcoat, hat, and gloves.
Jolie took them and carried them as they went into the parlor. Absently she sat down on the sofa, still holding them.
Morgan went to the fireplace, glad to see a healthy, glowing fire built. “I’m so sorry, Jolie. Sorry about Mr. DeForge, sorry that I wasn’t here, and I’m sorry you’ve been afraid. Don’t be. You do know about the arrangements Mr. DeForge made for you?”
She nodded, but her eyes were filled with uncertainty. “Mr. Cage told me that you are going to take care of me now. Is—is that true?”
“Yes, that’s true. You’re going to come live at my house, at Rapidan Run. Ketura is going to be your maid.”
“My maid? Ketura? But she’s my friend, the only friend I have that’s my own age. I don’t need a maid, anyway,” she said fretfully.
“Oh, but you do,” Morgan said with an attempt at lightness. “You’re a very wealthy young lady now, you know. Mr. Cage told you about the money Mr. DeForge left you, didn’t he? Of course he did. And wealthy young ladies must have a lady’s maid.”
“Oh. Then I suppose I will, if that’s what you want.”
“It’s not what I—oh, never mind. We can talk all about everything later. Right now I think I’d better go ahead and take you to my house, Jolie. I’m afraid it’s going to start snowing any minute, and I don’t want you to have to ride in a freezing snowstorm.”
“I’m ready,” she said eagerly. “Just let me get my cloak. I already have my winter boots on.” She practically ran out of the room.
It struck Morgan that Jolie might have been sitting there for days, in her winter boots, waitin
g for him or someone, anyone, to come help her. He determined he would be more welcoming, warmer toward her. He was still in a state of disbelief that his life had been turned upside down in this way, and he realized that he had a distracted air.
She came running back in, practically breathless, pulling on a long, luxurious wool mantle in a deep shade of pine green. It had a hood lined with dark gold satin, and when she pulled it up, it framed her face perfectly. Looking up at him, she seemed very young and innocent, with her wide tragic eyes and cupid’s bow of a mouth. “I didn’t take too long, did I?”
On impulse, Morgan bent and gently hugged her. He noted that she grew stiff, and so it was a very brief light caress, and then Morgan stepped back again. “Here I am, having to apologize again, Jolie. I’m hurrying you, and it’s not really necessary. We’ll make it home just fine. Amon and the boys are on their way with the wagon, and I’d like it very much if you would show me your bedroom and whatever else in the house you would like to take.”
Vast relief washed over her face, and she slowly pushed back her hood and took off her cloak. “Thank you, Mr. Tremayne. I did wonder about my things, but I didn’t like to ask.”
Morgan ventured to touch her again. He reached out, and with his forefinger gently pushed Jolie’s chin so that she would look up at him. “Jolie, I want to tell you right now, you never have to be afraid to ask me anything at all. I made a promise to Mr. DeForge that I would take very good care of you, and I will. I want you to know that.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she stared up at him. It made her enormous, dramatically dark eyes positively luminous. “Oh, Mr. Tremayne, I’m so glad you’ve come. Now I know I won’t have to be afraid.”
“Never again,” Morgan said firmly.
“Never again.”
CHAPTER NINE
On December 20, 1860, South Carolina had seceded from the United States of America. Morgan had given it very little thought, because he was at home in the peaceful, quiet Shenandoah Valley. The heated politics of northern Virginia and Washington, DC seemed far away.
On January 9, 1861, Mississippi seceded from the union. Morgan didn’t notice. On that day, Jolie had been at his home for exactly three days.
Early that morning Evetta had told him in a most accusatory manner that Jolie had no clothes. About halfway through the diatribe, Morgan managed to grasp that it wasn’t that Jolie actually had no clothes, but that the clothes she had were unsuitable. Apparently Henry DeForge could see Jolie no better than Morgan could, for she was still wearing little-girl outfits—one-piece dresses that came about halfway down her shin, with lacy pantalettes underneath.
According to Evetta, this was outrageous. “There she is, that poor chile’s got no idea that she’s walking around a-showing her ankles! And there’s her hair, all down with baby ribbons in it! She shoulda started putting her hair up already! Shame on you, Mr. Tremayne!”
On January 10, 1861, Florida seceded from the United States. Morgan didn’t notice because he spent the entire day in Fredericksburg, frantically searching for a dressmaker that could make Jolie some new clothes. Quickly.
On January 11, 1861, Alabama seceded from the union. It escaped Morgan’s attention because that was the day that he found out that Wade Kimbrel had bought Henry DeForge’s property. Wade Kimbrel came by Rapidan Run early in the morning to crow over Morgan.
Just after noon, two of DeForge’s field slaves, the boy Howie and his brother Eli, came running up to the farmhouse. They pleaded for Morgan to buy them.
He was still trying to explain to them that he couldn’t do such a thing when Kimbrel’s overseer rode up. He was an ugly great brute named Gus Ramsey. He told the boys they were going to be beaten within an inch of their lives, and if they ran again, he’d kill them. When Morgan protested, the man threatened to have him arrested for harboring runaway slaves. He could do it, too. It was the law of the land. Morgan was depressed all day long.
On January 19, 1861, Georgia seceded; on January 26th, Louisiana seceded; and on February 1st, Texas seceded. Morgan did at last begin to take note of what was happening outside the borders of Rapidan Run.
But it wasn’t until February 4th that he fully realized how deeply he was involved in these events. On that day, the Confederate States of America was formed. Jefferson Davis was elected president by the representatives of the states that had seceded, and Montgomery, Alabama, was named its capital.
The following morning, February 5, 1861, Morgan was sitting in his study after breakfast reading the newspaper, poring over the details of the events from the day before. The joining together of the seceded states, naming the association, electing a president, all of these things made it become jarringly real to Morgan. He realized that war was surely coming.
No, Virginia had not seceded—yet—but he knew she would. And like thousands of other men throughout all the states, he wrestled with making the choice of what he would do. Fight? Fight against the United States, his homeland? It was unthinkable. But the alternative was also inconceivable. Fight against Virginia? To Morgan, as to others, Virginia was more of a home to him than the rather intangible union of states that had been formed almost a hundred years ago. Virginia was much more than the simple geographic location of his house. Virginia was his motherland.
Abruptly Henry DeForge’s voice invaded his thoughts. “If I knew that I was going to be caught in a war, I would start hoarding. I would hoard gold, first of all, because it is truly a universal currency. Then I would hoard all of the necessaries I could gather. Foodstuffs, wood, coal, tools, nails, fabrics such as wool and cotton, soap, candles, anything and everything I could think of that I would need to run my homestead.”
With another jolt, Morgan realized that he had responsibilities now. He was no longer a single man who could make any decision he wanted and it would not affect anyone else. Everything he did now would deeply affect another person, besides his family. He was solely responsible for Jolie DeForge.
Whatever I do, I have to make sure she’s safe, that she’s secure. I promised…
The promise was made posthumously, of course. Once Morgan decided to take Jolie, he swore a solemn oath in his heart to God, and to the memory of Henry DeForge, that he would take care of her to his utmost for as long as he lived. Morgan was that kind of man. Once he gave his loyalty to someone or something, he would brave any evil to defend that bond.
And that’s exactly how I feel about Virginia, about my home, he realized with sinking heart, for then he knew that he would, he must, fight for his home. Then he thought, But I need time…time to make sure Jolie is well provided for, that her future is secure. Do I have enough time? Please, God, grant me the time….
Just then Jolie came in, interrupting his dark reverie. He looked up and managed a smile. “Hello, Mouse. Had breakfast yet?” “Mouse” was a joke between them. After Jolie had been with them a couple of weeks, Morgan had told her that she looked like a kitten, but she was as quiet as a mouse. Sometimes he called her “Kitten” and sometimes, as when she came unexpectedly into the room, he called her “Mouse.”
Morgan realized she was wearing one of the new dresses he had bought her, a simple brown wool dress trimmed with coral-colored satin ribbon. The dress had puffed sleeves and wide skirts. Ketura had dressed her hair. It was parted modestly down the middle and made into a simple bun at the nape of her neck. But to Morgan these things didn’t make her look any more mature. He thought they just made her look like a little girl playing dress-up.
“Yes, sir,” she answered. “Are you ready to help me with my geometry?” Morgan had continued teaching her in the mornings, as Henry DeForge had done since Jolie was five years old. Morgan had been pleasantly surprised at how educated Jolie was. She knew American history, English history, European history, she was conversant in French, she read many novels and nonfiction such as biographies, letters of note, and prominent men’s journals that were very much beyond the normal comprehension of a fourteen-year-old. She was ski
lled in arithmetic, and DeForge had even taught her the basics of bookkeeping.
But she was weak in geometry, because Henry DeForge had been weak in the higher mathematics, and he had no interest in trying to school himself. Also, Jolie was not at all “accomplished” in the sense that was usually meant to describe young ladies. She had no musical talent at all, aside from a clear, sweet soprano voice, and she couldn’t draw. Also, she couldn’t seem to learn the very basics of cooking. She was a passable seamstress and seemed to be determined to better her skills. Much to Morgan’s surprise, he had found that she was a formidable chess opponent. It took all his concentration to keep her from beating him.
Now he said vaguely, “Sorry? Oh yes, you said geometry.” He folded the paper and slid it across his desk to her. “I think that today we’ll put off geometry. There are some serious things I need to talk to you about, Jolie.”
She scanned the banner headline: CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA IS BORN! PRESIDENT ELECTED—VICE PRESIDENT ELECTED—MEMBER STATES DESIGNATE MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA, AS THE CAPITAL.
She sighed deeply. “This means there will be a war, doesn’t it?”
“I guess so,” Morgan said quietly. “I’ve tried to ignore the whole thing, but it’s just not going away like I want. So there are some things we need to settle.”
She bit her lower lip, and Morgan hurriedly added, “No, Jolie, don’t be afraid. We just have to talk about your future, that’s all. Remember, I promised you that you’ll never have to be afraid again. And that’s what I need to make sure of now. How best to take care of you.”
“But I can stay here, can’t I?” she pleaded. “You aren’t going to try to send me away again, are you?”
When she first moved in, Morgan had suggested that she might like to go to boarding school. After all, she could afford the very best. But the thought had so obviously terrified her that Morgan had told her to forget it and had never mentioned it again. It had taken him a while to see it from her point of view. Of course she would be frightened out of her wits, to be sent to a strange place, with strange people, when her entire life had been spent with a loving, indulgent father. No wonder she had been terrified.
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