A Love Woven True

by Judith Miller

  Jasmine’s face softened, and she lowered herself onto the settee. ‘‘You may be certain I’ll divulge nothing to Naomi—or anyone else. I only wish there were more I could do.’’

  ‘‘We know we can always be dependin’ on ya fer aid, ma’am,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘ ’Tis thankful we are, knowin’ that when there’s a need ya’re always willin’ to help.’’

  Before the sun had ascended the next day, Jasmine hurried down the back stairway into the kitchen. She tightened her silk robe and strained to peek out the window for any sign of Liam’s wagon. For nearly half an hour she raised herself on tiptoe and braced her body against the coarse wood shelving beneath the window. Her legs trembled from the strain until she thought the ache in her legs would become unbearable. Moving to adjust her position, a barbed splinter broke loose from the wood shelving and penetrated the slick, silky fabric of her nightclothes. With a jerk, she pulled away from the window and paced the room until the plodding of horses’ hooves and rumble of the wagons could be heard in the distance. Pulling the door closed behind her, Jasmine crept outside into the diffused shadows of daybreak and watched as Obadiah clambered up into one of the wagons.

  Long after the wagons were out of sight, she continued her vigil, wishing she could join the men. Instead, she returned to her bedroom and prepared for the day. Nolan would be arriving this morning, and there was much to accomplish before his visit. She had promised Spencer they would have a picnic, and she didn’t want to burden Naomi with the preparations. Perhaps she should ask Naomi and Moses to join them. Peeking into Spencer’s adjoining bedroom, she stared at the boy with his rosy cheeks and bow-shaped smile.

  Leaning down, she placed a kiss upon her son’s warm cheek. He wriggled and his eyelids fluttered before finally opening to reveal his deep brown eyes. ‘‘Mama,’’ he said sleepily, extending his arms for a hug.

  Jasmine lifted him into her arms and kissed him soundly. ‘‘Are you ready to begin a new day?’’

  Spencer giggled and squirmed until she placed him on the woven rug beside his bed. ‘‘I wanna play now!’’ he commanded.

  ‘‘First you must get dressed and eat your breakfast. Then we’ll talk about playing,’’ she said as she unbuttoned his nightshirt and tugged it over his head. ‘‘Such a big boy,’’ she cooed. He was growing up so fast. Almost overnight his speech had taken on a decided improvement toward clarity. ‘‘I can’t believe you have grown so much in just the last few months.’’

  In a blink, he was running toward the door, off to discover the pleasures of a new day. ‘‘Not without your clothes,’’ Jasmine admonished, quickly grasping his arm and shaking her reflective thoughts away. With Spencer around, there were only rare occasions that could be given to introspection.

  When she had finally cajoled him into a shirt and tiny breeches, she took his hand and led him to the stairs, carrying his shoes and stockings in her hand. She would struggle through that battle while her son ate his breakfast. Spencer hurried through his breakfast and was wriggling from his chair when a knock sounded at the front door.

  ‘‘Hurry, Spencer. Let’s see who has come to visit,’’ she said, following her son as he ran down the hallway.

  He stretched until one chubby hand was on the doorknob before looking up to his mother. ‘‘Open, Mama.’’

  Heeding his request, Jasmine turned the knob and pulled back.

  ‘‘Look who has come to visit,’’ she said while gazing into Nolan Houston’s sparkling blue eyes.

  ‘‘Good morning to my two favorite people,’’ he greeted them.

  ‘‘Unca Nolan,’’ Spencer screeched, throwing himself into Nolan’s legs.

  ‘‘Now there’s a welcome that makes a man happy to be alive,’’ Nolan said while scooping Spencer into his arms. ‘‘And what of you, Jasmine? Are you as happy to see me as my nephew?’’

  Above Spencer’s brown curls, their eyes locked. ‘‘I believe that would be a true statement,’’ she said. ‘‘Why don’t you join us in the parlor?’’

  After only a short time of being contained in the parlor, Spencer began tugging at his uncle’s hand. ‘‘Play with me,’’ he said, pointing toward the door.

  ‘‘You want to go outside? I agree. It’s much too beautiful to remain indoors. Why don’t we all go outdoors?’’

  ‘‘If you’re willing to oversee him for a short time, I’ll go into the kitchen and begin preparations for our picnic.’’

  Nolan took Spencer by the hand. ‘‘I think I should be able to handle him for a while. Any objections if he should want to play with Moses?’’

  ‘‘Of course not. In fact, I’m certain your job will be much more manageable with Moses to keep him company. The two boys have become accustomed to spending most of their waking hours together,’’ Jasmine said as the three of them walked down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Jasmine watched Spencer and Nolan as they laughed and ran across the yard, Nolan pretending he was unable to keep pace with the small boy. The sight caused a smile to cross her lips, and she watched until the two of them crossed through the gated fence and stood in front of the small cottage that had been constructed for Obadiah and Naomi. Seeing Naomi’s thin form as she walked into the yard with Moses in tow caused Jasmine’s thoughts to quickly change direction. Were Obadiah, Rogan, and Liam encountering any difficulty on this day?

  ‘‘Keep them safe, Father God, both those who lend their help and the runaways who need them,’’ she whispered. Danger remained at the forefront of her mind as Jasmine absently retrieved a basket from the pantry and lined it with a white linen cloth.

  Moving about the kitchen with her thoughts focused upon the three men and their mission, she started at the sound of Naomi’s voice. ‘‘Mister Nolan said you was busy fixing a picnic. Why don’ you let me finish up in here? Seems if a man come all dis way to visit, you should be spendin’ some time wib him. I know he likes da chile, but it’s you he’s wantin’ to see. ’Sides, I don’ know when Obadiah gonna be home. He tol’ me not to be plannin’ on him for noonday meal ’cause he was helpin’ cut stone—said you tol’ him it was alright. How come you havin’ him help with dat work, Missus? Ain’t as though dere’s nothing needin’ done ’round this place.’’

  Jasmine tightened her hold on the silverware she was placing in the basket and hesitated briefly as she met Naomi’s questioning gaze. ‘‘Mr. Donohue and Mr. Sheehan came to the house last night and asked if they could hire Obadiah to help them for the day. Obadiah is strong and can handle the heavy rock more easily than either of them.’’

  ‘‘Seems odd they ain’ never needed no help from Obadiah afore. They say who been movin’ dat heavy rock in da past?’’

  ‘‘No, I didn’t inquire,’’ Jasmine said, moving around Naomi. ‘‘I believe I will take you up on your offer and join Mr. Houston—if you’re certain it won’t be an imposition.’’

  ‘‘ ’Course not. You go on out there, and if dem boys start to givin’ you trouble, tell ’em you’ll make ’em come in da kitchen with me if they don’ behave.’’

  Jasmine gathered her skirts in one hand as she crossed the threshold. ‘‘Please pack enough for you and Moses too. I want you to join us.’’

  ‘‘Yessum.’’

  The sound of Naomi’s soulful tune followed Jasmine through the open door, the words muted as the early afternoon breeze lifted them off toward heaven. Jasmine slowed her pace and listened, hoping she would hear the returning rumble of Liam Donohue’s wagons. Yet she knew it was much too early to expect the men. After all, Obadiah had told his wife he wouldn’t be home for the noonday meal. But if the runaways had already arrived and had been waiting, they could already be loaded and on their way.

  ‘‘Enough!’’ she muttered while continuing across the lawn, knowing she must cease her incessant worrying. After all, weren’t they all entrusted into God’s tender care? Would He not protect them?

  ‘‘Mama!’’ Spencer shouted as he came running toward her and bu
ried his face in her skirts.

  Jasmine ruffled his dark brown curls with her fingers. ‘‘Are you having fun?’’ she asked, taking his small hand in her own and walking back to where Moses sat on the grass playing with some wooden figures Obadiah had carved for him. ‘‘You boys play nicely,’’ she said before sitting down on the woolen blanket Nolan had spread under one of the leafy oak trees.

  ‘‘Where’s Naomi?’’ Nolan inquired.

  ‘‘She insisted I come and spend time with you while she completed the lunch preparations on her own,’’ Jasmine explained.

  ‘‘She’s a thoughtful woman. Do remind me to thank her,’’ he said with a grin.

  Jasmine smiled in return while she arranged her skirt. ‘‘Have the boys been behaving?’’

  ‘‘Absolutely. In fact, I find it amazing how well they get on together,’’ Nolan commented, glancing toward Spencer and Moses. ‘‘There were so many years between Bradley and me, we both grew up as though we were only children. You likely experienced the same feelings having been the only girl in your family.’’

  ‘‘Not exactly. I don’t recall experiencing feelings of loneliness, but then, I was always privileged to have a tutor who filled her time by either teaching or entertaining me.’’

  Nolan smiled and nodded before continuing to regale her with tales of his childhood.

  Jasmine endeavored to listen, but her mind soon wandered back to the runaways and the three men who were attempting to provide them with food and safe haven before directing them farther north into Canada. She longed to know if the runaways had arrived, how many there were, and if the trackers had followed them into Massachusetts or given up the chase farther south. She hoped for the sake of the poor runaways the pursuers had given up long ago.

  ‘‘Jasmine! Will you not answer me?’’

  ‘‘What? Oh yes, whatever you think will be fine with me,’’ she absently replied.

  Nolan’s face filled with amusement. ‘‘That is likely the most offhanded reply to a marriage proposal in the annals of history.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ Jasmine cried, now giving Nolan her undivided attention.

  ‘‘Now I understand how this works. Once you’ve actually heard the word marriage, you’re interested,’’ he said with a wide grin. ‘‘Several minutes ago, I poured out my heart—telling you of my love and adoration. I don’t want to take the chance of once again losing you to your own reflections, so I will merely repeat that I would consider myself the most fortunate man alive if you would consent to become my wife. Will you marry me, Jasmine?’’

  ‘‘Oh, Nolan,’’ she whispered, her body melting into his embrace while she momentarily enjoyed the warmth of his strong arms. Finally, she was able to experience the complete love she had never had with Bradley. ‘‘Of course I’ll marry you. I was beginning to think you would never ask,’’ she said with a soft laugh.

  ‘‘I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to question the propriety of our union. I had intended to wait until three years after Bradley’s death, but I now know I can wait no longer to take you as my wife,’’ he said, lowering his head and covering her lips with a gentle kiss that slowly grew more urgent. ‘‘Tell me we can soon wed,’’ he whispered, his gaze filled with passion.

  ‘‘I am in complete agreement. However, Grandmother Wainwright may not be so easily convinced.’’

  ‘‘She’ll object to our marriage?’’ A note of panic laced his words.

  Jasmine laughed and shook her head. ‘‘No, not to the marriage itself. In fact, she was so anxious for you to propose she’d begun harassing me. She thought I should help you along and said perhaps you were too shy to propose. However, knowing Grandmother, she’ll want to have parties and plan a large wedding.’’

  ‘‘And is that what you desire?’’

  ‘‘I had all of those things when I married Bradley. I have no desire for a long engagement, but Grandmother can be unrelenting.’’ ‘‘We’ll remain steadfast. I believe six weeks is more than enough time, and October would be a lovely time of year for a wedding, don’t you think?’’

  ‘‘Absolutely,’’ Jasmine replied, tilting her head to accept another kiss.

  The fresh air and hearty picnic lunch caused Spencer to finally succumb. He crawled onto Nolan’s lap and was asleep within minutes of nestling himself into his uncle’s strong arms. Jasmine watched the two of them for a moment, obviously enjoying the picture of serenity they created.

  ‘‘Shall I carry him inside?’’ Nolan asked.

  She gave him a grateful smile. ‘‘Please. Once he’s down for his nap, perhaps we can discuss our wedding plans.’’

  ‘‘I’d like that very much.’’

  Nolan felt an overwhelming rush of pride. She had said yes to his proposal. Not that he had truly been worried that she would refuse him. Well, perhaps there had been some concern. He chuckled as he carried his nephew to bed. Truth be told, he had done a great deal of fretting, practicing his lines over and over the night before . . . wanting to ask in just the right way.

  ‘‘And then she didn’t even hear me.’’

  Spender stirred in his arms. Nolan bent to place a kiss on the boy’s forehead. ‘‘Soon you’ll be my son—as I’ve always felt you should be.’’

  The early evening sun had begun its descent, and Nolan was enjoying a final cup of coffee when Jasmine stood and began pacing in front of the fireplace. Spencer had long since risen from his nap and was happily playing at Nolan’s feet. Yet Jasmine couldn’t contain her growing concern about the runaways.

  ‘‘Why don’t we return to the back lawn for a little longer?’’ she suggested.

  Nolan swallowed a final sip of coffee and returned the cup to its matching gold-rimmed saucer. ‘‘Why so restless, my dear? Have you not had enough fresh air for one day?’’

  Warmed by his playful grin and sparkling eyes, Jasmine stood and grasped his hand. ‘‘If we are very fortunate, there may be a few fireflies on the prowl that we can capture for Spencer.’’

  He laughed and pushed his chair away from the table with his free hand. ‘‘I think it’s a little early in the evening to see any fireflies, much less capture them!’’

  ‘‘Play! Outside!’’ Spencer chimed. ‘‘I go now, Mama,’’ he said, tugging at Jasmine’s fingers.

  ‘‘You’re outnumbered,’’ she said, giggling.

  Much to Spencer’s amusement, Nolan paraded about the yard, pretending to seek out fireflies. The young boy followed his every move while Jasmine delightedly enjoyed their antics. Bradley would never have considered such playfulness appropriate; perhaps that fact alone made their liveliness today all the more precious.

  ‘‘How is your brother faring since your father’s departure? I’m certain McKinley would have preferred staying with you rather than your grandmother,’’ Nolan said as he inspected the leaves of a rosebush for possible fireflies.

  ‘‘Such would have been my preference also. However, Father was quite serious about their agreement. He will expect McKinley to honor his word and return to The Willows if he doesn’t find a suitable position, and that task will be more easily accomplished if McKinley is living in Lowell rather than out here on the farm.’’

  Nolan continued to examine the thorny rosebush. ‘‘Once he begins his search in earnest, McKinley will have no problem. With the variety of businesses in Lowell and the number of men leaving for California in search of gold, there are a multitude of opportunities.’’ ‘‘Still, he must avail himself of such opportunities, and he can’t do that if he’s busy escorting Grandmother around town. He tells me she expects him to act as her escort to all of her social functions. And you know what a full calendar she keeps!’’

  Nolan laughed and turned in her direction. ‘‘You, my dear, are not your brother’s keeper. I’m certain McKinley can hold his own with your grandmother. If he has an appointment, I know that he’ll ask her to make other arrangements for an escort to her soirees,’’ he said before cupping one hand t
o shade his eyes and peering into the distance. ‘‘Wonder who that could be?’’

  Jasmine moved to where he stood, though the sun blinded her vision. ‘‘Is it wagons?’’ she asked, still unable to identify anything nearing the farm.

  Nolan moved to the left. ‘‘Yes. In fact, there appear to be three,’’ he said while squinting and drawing nearer to the fence line. ‘‘Looks like Obadiah is driving one, but I can’t make out the other two men.’’

  ‘‘Liam and Rogan?’’

  He lowered his hand and looked at her suspiciously. ‘‘I believe you’re correct. How did you know?’’

  ‘‘Liam and Rogan asked if Obadiah could accompany them today and help quarry stone.’’

  ‘‘Truly? Why would they suddenly need Obadiah’s assistance?’’

  ‘‘They said they would need to use three wagons, and since there are only the two of them available to drive the wagons . . .’’

  Her voice trailed off as she watched the billowing clouds of dust rising from beneath the wagon wheels.

  ‘‘Odd they’d ask for Obadiah’s help. You’d think they’d hire one of the Irishmen from down in the Acre. There are always Irish laborers hoping to find work.’’

  Was Nolan looking askance at her explanation, or was it her own guilt that caused her to think he didn’t entirely believe her weak explanation? Certainly Nolan could be trusted with such information—he’d supported the antislavery movement long before she had. Yet she had given Liam and Rogan her word she’d say nothing. She didn’t want to break her promise, so she walked away and stood by the fence.

  Obadiah waved as the wagons drew closer. ‘‘Evenin’, suh, Miz Jasmine.’’