A Love Woven True

by Judith Miller

  ‘‘David is going to remain at The Willows. I’m certain he intends to live there once he marries. And Samuel will return eventually, Father. Remember it was your suggestion for Samuel to replace Bradley. You knew his work would require him to spend a great deal of time away from The Willows, and McKinley. . .’’

  ‘‘Yes, McKinley. I’ve lost him to the North, just as I lost you. Did your grandmother tell you he hopes to remain in Lowell?’’

  ‘‘Grandmother said the two of you had a disagreement regarding the antislavery movement and you told McKinley he should seek other employment if he was unhappy with your beliefs.’’

  ‘‘He condemns my way of life, yet he has never refused the benefits. My words were spoken in anger—my feeble attempt to bring him to his senses.’’

  ‘‘Instead of anger, perhaps he needs your affirmation,’’ Alice said as she neared the bench.

  ‘‘Please sit down, Grandmother. I must go inside and check on Spencer—I’m certain he’s a handful for Martha.’’

  Malcolm watched as Jasmine made her way toward the house before he turned to meet his mother’s gaze. ‘‘So you think my son needs affirmation? Of what? His belief in the antislavery movement? I’m sorry, Mother, but you know I will never side with you and your Northern allies on this subject, nor will I give McKinley my blessing to embrace such principles. I don’t want him to remain in Lowell. He needs to return to The Willows with me. Once he’s back in Mississippi, he will see things more clearly.’’

  ‘‘Surely you don’t think his beliefs suddenly materialized on your voyage to Boston. It’s obvious to me that McKinley has harbored antislavery sentiments all of his life. Can’t you see that he has feared losing his relationship with you if he truly declared his views? He’s a grown man, Malcolm. Permit him the privilege of making his own decisions.’’

  ‘‘You argue on his behalf because he has embraced your views. Have you swayed Samuel to your side also?’’

  Alice jerked away. ‘‘I’ve not attempted to influence my grandchildren. I have always answered their questions truthfully, nothing more. And as for Samuel, I see him rarely and have no idea whether his views regarding slavery have changed since he’s been working closely with the Associates. However, I seriously doubt you’ll lose his alliance. Samuel has always been pro-slavery. Had you taken note as the children were growing into adulthood, I think you would have seen evidence that neither Jasmine nor McKinley ever held to your sentiments.’’

  ‘‘And David?’’

  ‘‘You won’t lose David—he hopes to permanently win Samuel’s former position at The Willows. From the time he was a little boy, David was insecure in his rank as the second son. With Samuel’s departure, David views himself as your rightful heir. You can be certain he will remain firmly aligned with any opinion you adopt. And now that he is considering marriage, his sights will be firmly set upon The Willows.’’

  Malcolm sat up and looked deep into his mother’s eyes. ‘‘You judge David harshly.’’

  ‘‘I don’t judge him at all. David holds values and opinions that differ from those of McKinley and Jasmine. You and I have differing views, but that fact doesn’t change my love for you, and I hope your love for Jasmine and McKinley won’t change. I know you have made great strides toward healing your relationship with Jasmine after forcing an abominable marriage upon her. I do not see that she holds that against you any longer. So I have to believe that the love between you has also given you the power to heal the hurts. It’s my prayer you’ll continue down that path with McKinley. Your harsh words have caused him great pain.’’

  ‘‘And what of his remarks? They were harsh as well.’’

  Alice held his eyes with a slight smile tugging at her lips.

  ‘‘Oh, I know I should be the one to make the first gesture toward forgiveness, but it seems all I hold sacred is slipping away. First Jasmine, then Madelaine, and now McKinley. I’ll apologize to McKinley, but I’ll let him know I expect him to return home with me.’’

  His mother’s face was filled with a profound sadness he hadn’t seen since the day they’d buried his father. ‘‘Have you heard nothing I’ve said to you?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Mother, but—’’

  ‘‘Malcolm, I’ve not forced my beliefs upon any member of this family, and perhaps you should consider doing the same. Your children are now adults, quite capable of forming their own opinions, and you should permit them to do so. You and Madelaine gave your children a solid foundation; now permit them to put their training to use. They can, and should, make their own decisions.’’

  ‘‘They still need my guidance and influence.’’

  ‘‘That may be true, but the final decision is theirs, and you should honor their right to choose. Free choice, Malcolm—let them apply it in their daily lives and trust you’ve taught them well.

  Of course, continued prayer is helpful also,’’ she concluded with a sweet smile.

  He managed a sheepish smile. ‘‘I don’t believe I’m as confident they’ll make the choices I’d prefer.’’

  Alice’s laughter rose upward and mingled with the soft afternoon breeze. ‘‘Your decisions didn’t always concur with my preferences, but it didn’t change my love for you. We can dislike choices that are made, but our love must always remain constant— wouldn’t you agree?’’

  Malcolm rose from the bench and helped Alice to her feet. ‘‘It’s impossible to disagree with anything you’ve said, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll still be doing everything in my power to influence McKinley to return to The Willows.’’

  You seem rather sad today,’’ Violet Cheever said as McKinley smoothed out their picnic blanket.

  ‘‘Perhaps introspective is a better word,’’ he said as he picked up the picnic basket. ‘‘Where do want this?’’

  She sank gracefully to the blanket and patted the center. ‘‘Right here. This shall give us easy access to all of Cook’s culinary delights.’’

  McKinley smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it. Joining Violet on the blanket, he let out a heavy sigh.

  ‘‘Perhaps such heavy introspection would be more easily borne if shared with a friend?’’

  ‘‘Perhaps, but I would hate to burden such a new and generous friend as you.’’

  ‘‘Pshaw, as Mother would say.’’ She laughed, and the sound caused McKinley to relax.

  ‘‘Grandmother would agree,’’ he said, smiling.

  Violet began pulling food from the basket. She never looked up but asked in a very serious tone, ‘‘Does this have something to do with your father?’’

  He startled. ‘‘Why do you ask that?’’

  ‘‘I recognized some tension between the two of you last night. Forgive me, but I asked Jasmine if something was amiss. She, of course, refused to betray any details but said I should pray for you. So I did.’’

  McKinley eased back on one elbow and stretched his legs out across the blanket. ‘‘Father and I have grown distant—perhaps we were never all that close to begin with. We don’t share the same ideals.’’

  Violet worked to fix a plate of food for each of them. ‘‘Regarding your future? Most fathers seem quite set upon the path their sons should take, while it’s been my experience that most sons have entirely different ideas.’’

  He laughed. ‘‘Your experience, eh? You are all of what, sixteen?’’

  Violet looked up in absolute astonishment. ‘‘I beg your pardon!’’

  McKinley shot to his feet and took several paces back. He waved his hands in protest. ‘‘I was only joking. I know you’re much older.’’

  ‘‘You think I’m old?’’ she said, her voice changing from astonishment to irritation.

  McKinley suddenly realized this wasn’t at all going the way he wanted it to. ‘‘I do not think you’re old. You are just the right age.’’

  Violet lowered her face for a moment, then lifted it to reveal her huge smile. ‘‘The right age for what?’’

&
nbsp; McKinley suddenly realized she wasn’t at all upset with him, she’d merely been giving him back some of his own medicine.

  He dropped back down by her side and grabbed a cookie from one of the plates before she could stop him. He took a bite and grinned. ‘‘Why, the right age for a picnic by the river. What else could I mean?’’

  ‘‘Hmm, I cannot imagine, Mr. Wainwright, but I shall endeavor to thoroughly explore the possibilities.’’ She gave him a most alluring simper before turning back to the food.

  ‘‘Why, Miss Cheever,’’ he said, trying not to sound too surprised, when in truth he was quite taken aback. ‘‘I do believe you’re flirting with me.’’

  Violet handed him a plate. ‘‘I believe you are correct, Mr. Wainwright. How very astute.’’

  CHAPTER• 12

  Late August

  ROGAN SHEEHAN and Liam Donohue propped themselves against the log-hewn railing that surrounded Jasmine Houston’s neatly manicured lawn and separated it from the remainder of her acreage. Rogan lifted the cap from his head and waved it high in the air until Obadiah noticed him and waved in return.

  ‘‘Can ya spare us a minute of yar time?’’ Rogan called out before tucking his black curls back beneath the flat, billed cap.

  Rogan watched as Obadiah hesitated just long enough to wipe the sweat from his walnut brown face before heading in their direction. Taking giant strides, he made crossing the distance appear nearly effortless. ‘‘Fine-lookin’ vegetable garden ya’ve got for yarself,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘I admire a man that can make the land produce.’’

  ‘‘Dirt, rain, and sunshine is all provided by the good Lord. I jes’ add da toil. We had us some fine eatin’ outta dat garden, and what we couldn’t eat, Naomi got stored for da winter. I was jes’ hoeing down some weeds. What can I do fer ya?’’

  ‘‘We’re needin’ yar help, if ya’re willin’. Rogan got word there’s a movement of slaves headed our way, and we’re gonna need to take three wagons to get ’em back to the farm.’’

  Obadiah’s lips tightened and deep creases formed along his jaw. ‘‘Three full loads comin’ at one time? Hard to believe a group dat size could make it dis far north wibout being spotted. You sho’ you ain’ got some bad information? Sounds to me like maybe dis could be a trap. You don’ think someone’s gotten wind of what’s goin’ on and dey’s baitin’ us, do you?’’

  ‘‘Well, now, anything is possible, but Rogan misspoke a wee bit,’’ Liam said. ‘‘Fer sure we need to be usin’ three wagons, but they’ll be loaded with stone ta make it appear like it’s a normal day of work fer me. I’m thinkin’ we can get far fewer in each wagon, but doin’ it this way will permit us to work in the daylight, which is somethin’ no one will be expectin’. The only dangerous time will be loadin’ ’em in and out of the wagons. With three of us to keep watch, I’m thinkin’ we’ll ’ave no problem. Can we count on ya to help us?’’

  ‘‘I done tol’ you I’d help any time you needed me. When you thinkin’ dis is gonna take place?’’

  ‘‘In the mornin’,’’ Liam replied.

  ‘‘Tomorrow mornin’? That sho’ ain’ much time to be makin’ my excuses for being gone.’’

  Liam dug the toe of his boot into the dirt. ‘‘Wiser to keep people in the dark until there’s a reason for passin’ on the information. Less chance of word slippin’ out to the wrong ears. Might be best to just tell the mistress ya’re helpin’ us with the runaways. She’s always been willin’ to aid in the cause.’’

  ‘‘It ain’t the mistress I got a problem with—I know Miz Jasmine wouldn’t hesitate for a minute. It’s my wife, Naomi. She’s afeared somethin’ bad’s gonna happen to me. That woman do worry all da time. She says she don’ want me helpin’ no more. I tol’ her dat ain’ right, but she’s scared.’’

  ‘‘I find thar’s times it’s better to remain silent about what I might be doin’. Kiara can na worry about what she does na know.’’

  ‘‘Naomi asks lots of questions. If I start ta sidesteppin’, she’s gonna know for sho’ I’m hidin’ somepin’.’’

  ‘‘If ya’re sure ya want to help, I’ll go to Mrs. Houston and tell her I need yar help with the runaways. I do na think she’ll turn me down. I’ll tell her ya do na want your wife ta worry and ask that she na say anything. Ya can tell yar wife ya’re going to help me haul rock and, best of all, ya’ll na be telling a lie. Do ya think that would solve the problem ya’re havin’?’’

  ‘‘If it be alright with Miz Jasmine, I think we got us a plan,’’ Obadiah said, shaking hands with Liam.

  ‘‘I’ll be goin’ to talk to the missus right now, and unless thar’s a problem, one of us will come by to fetch ya in the mornin’. Are ya comin’ with me, Rogan, or are ya planning to grow old leanin’ on that fence railin’?’’ Liam asked with a glint in his eye.

  Rogan gave a hearty laugh and pushed away from the railing. ‘‘Just catchin’ me rest where I can.’’

  ‘‘Then let’s be on our way. It’s gettin’ dark, and I do na want to be late for supper,’’ Liam said.

  Giving Liam a hearty slap on the back, Rogan called back to Obadiah, ‘‘Ya can see that his woman has ’im well in hand also!’’

  ‘‘ ’Tis na me woman that worries me but me stomach,’’ Liam corrected in a loud voice as they walked toward the Houston home.

  Rogan waited until he was certain Obadiah could no longer hear their voices. ‘‘Do ya think he’ll have a change of heart afore mornin’?’’

  ‘‘He’s a good man—a man of his word. If he was na goin’ ta help, he would have told us. Obadiah would na want to take a chance on havin’ runaways captured on his account.’’

  ‘‘Ya’re right. I hope he’s able to keep his senses about him this evenin’. Otherwise his wife will get the idea somethin’ is wrong and keep at ’im until he tells her. If that happens, ya can be sure we’ll be needin’ someone else to help us come mornin’.’’

  ‘‘Ya worry too much, Rogan. Do ya want to be the one to talk to the missus, or do ya want me ta speak ta her?’’ ‘‘I’ll talk to her, but if she begins askin’ a lot of details, ya’ll have to fill her in,’’ Rogan said as he rapped on the front door.

  Moments later the front door swung open, and the two Irishmen were rendered temporarily speechless.

  ‘‘May I help you?’’ McKinley Wainwright inquired.

  Rogan strained on tiptoe, hoping to see Jasmine Houston approaching. ‘‘We was hopin’ to have a word with Missus Houston.’’ McKinley’s eyes narrowed. ‘‘Was she expecting you?’’

  ‘‘We’re na the type to be makin’ appointments nor havin’ cal-lin’ cards, but the lady of the house knows us,’’ Rogan replied. ‘‘If ya’d tell her Rogan Sheehan and Liam Donohue would like a word with her, I think ya’ll find she’s willin’ to see us. We’ll wait here on the porch while ya fetch her.’’

  McKinley nodded and closed the door. ‘‘I’m hopin’ that means he’s gone to fetch her,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘Do ya know who he is?’’

  ‘‘I’ve never seen him before in me life,’’ Liam said. ‘‘And here I been thinkin’ the missus was goin’ to marry Mr. Houston’s brother. Looks as though she’s found herself another suitor.’’

  ‘‘I do na think he’s a suitor. Fer sure I’m thinkin’ she’s goin’ to marry Nolan Houston. Kiara has told me as much, but I do na think they’ve set a date.’’

  ‘‘Kiara might be assumin’ too much. Maybe he hasn’t even proposed and the lass has grown weary of waitin’ on him and found her someone else.’’

  Before Rogan could reply, the door reopened, and Rogan quickly pulled the flat cap from his head. Jasmine Houston stood in the doorway with the gentleman at her side. ‘‘Rogan! Liam! Do come in,’’ she said, stepping aside to permit them entry. ‘‘I’d like you both to meet my brother, McKinley Wainwright,’’ she continued as they walked into the foyer.

  Rogan grinned. ‘‘Yar brother, is he? Liam here was thinkin’ perhaps yo
u’d found a new suitor.’’

  A hint of crimson darkened Jasmine’s pale cheeks. ‘‘And you corrected his ill-conceived notion?’’

  ‘‘Aye—quick as a wink I told him ya had yar cap set fer Mr. Houston’s brother.’’

  McKinley burst into laughter. ‘‘Now will you believe me when I tell you that you wear your feelings on your sleeve, dear sister?’’

  ‘‘Oh, shush! Come sit down and tell me what’s on your mind.’’

  The men followed Jasmine into the library that also served as her business office.

  ‘‘It’s a private matter we need to be discussin’ with ya,’’ Rogan said, his gaze shifting toward her brother.

  ‘‘If you would excuse us, McKinley? I’m certain we won’t be long.’’ There was a ring of authority in her voice that would not be denied.

  McKinley nodded. ‘‘Nice to have made your acquaintance.’’

  ‘‘Please close the door,’’ Jasmine requested as McKinley made his exit. The moment the latch clicked, she turned her attention to Rogan. ‘‘Runaways?’’ she asked, keeping her voice low.

  ‘‘Aye. And we need yar help.’’

  She listened carefully to his request. ‘‘If Obadiah has given his consent to help you, then I have no objection. Paddy and Mr. Fisher can handle the horses without him for one morning. Is there nothing more I can do to help?’’

  ‘‘Ya can keep this information to yarself,’’ Rogan told her.

  She jumped up from her chair, her back rigid. ‘‘What do you mean? If it’s my brother that concerns you, he’s sympathetic to the cause. In fact, McKinley stood against my father and has remained in Massachusetts because of his opposition to slavery. He was willing to alienate himself from our father and lose any chance of an inheritance for his beliefs. He can be trusted. And I sincerely hope you do not question my loyalty.’’

  ‘‘Sorry I am to have offended ya, ma’am,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘I did na mean ya could na be trusted, but we do na want Obadiah’s wife ta know he’ll be helpin’ with the runaways. He said she does na want him puttin’ himself in danger, and he does na want to tell her a lie. He’ll be tellin’ her nothin’ but that he’s helping haul rock. So if ya could find it in yar heart to tell her nothin’ more, we’d be obliged.’’