The Pattern of Her Heart (40 page)

“Good morning, Prissy! It’s a beautiful day outside. I’ve brought you some tea and thought we might visit for a spell. In fact, it would be nice to go outdoors with you after a bit—the sunshine is glorious. I think it’s warm enough we could take Emily with us if she’s wrapped in her blanket.”

Prissy scooted up in the bed and rested her back and shoulders against the wall.

“Shall I pour?”

“I’ll drink me a cup of tea, but I don’ think I’ll be gettin’ out of dis bed.”

Jasmine poured the tea and added cream and sugar before she offered the cup to Prissy. “I do hope you like cream and sugar,” she said with a bright smile.

“Um, hum, that’s fine. I’m sure you got better things to do than come over here an’ serve me tea,” she said, slowly lifting the cup to her lips.

“There are certainly other things I
could
be doing, but nothing I’d
rather
do,” she replied. “I went up to the attic this morning and found some of Clara’s clothing. She outgrew these things long ago, and I thought they would be perfect for our little Emily.”

Prissy glanced at the clothes but showed little interest even as Jasmine began to unfold the items for her inspection. “Them’s real nice. Thank you. You can give ’em to Maisie. She sees to washing and dressing the baby,” she said in a monotone voice.

“Yes, I know, but I think it’s time you began to care for Emily yourself, Prissy. And you need to get out of this bed,” she said as she walked to the windows and pulled open the curtains.

Prissy blinked against the sunlight and quickly covered her eyes with one arm. “I like dem curtains closed. Don’ like it bright in here.”

Jasmine shook her head back and forth. “Darkness breeds depression and sadness.”

“What
you
know ’bout depression and sadness?” she rebutted bitterly.

“I’ve had my share of heartache, Prissy, and I also had a mother who suffered from severe headaches and phobias that sent her into the depths of depression. Don’t make the mistake of imprisoning yourself with a desire to withdraw from the world, Prissy. There is nothing so great that God won’t see you through. You do believe that, don’t you?”

“I ain’t so sure ’bout God helping me. I been calling on the name of Jesus ever since I was a youngun, but it ain’t done me much good.”

Jasmine pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. “I would guess you’ve had a very difficult life, Prissy, but if you will take your mind off the bad for a moment, you will see that you have been blessed with good things too. You fell in love with and married Toby, and although he’s not with you now, we’re still praying he’ll join you one day. You are freed from slavery and you enjoy earning wages as a seamstress . . . at least you told me that was true.”

“That’s true; I do like sewing in dat little shop Massa Nolan fixed up for us. I feel more at home there than anyplace.”

“And you have a beautiful, healthy little girl.”

“That child ain’t no blessing—she’s a
curse,
” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Jasmine recoiled at the venomous response. “She is
not
a curse. She’s an innocent baby who had no say in her birth.”

“Well, neither did I, ’cause if I’d had any say, she wouldn’t be here, an’ you can believe dat for sho’.”

“Toby isn’t Emily’s father, is he?”

Prissy shook her head. “That’s easy enough to see. Just look at her—she’s as white as dem clouds floatin’ out dere in the sky. She’s too white to be my chile.”

“Prissy, that’s not true. Emily
is
your child. Will you tell me who fathered her?”

“No, ma’am, I’ll not be telling that, but we best all hope da child don’ turn out nothin’ like the man who be her true pappy.”

“Do I know him?”

“I ain’t sayin’ no more, Miz Jasmine. Toby knew the baby wasn’t his ’cause he never touched me afore we was married. He asked if I was forced against my will, an’ I told him I was. He didn’t ask me if it was one of da other slaves or if it was a white man. He jest nodded, and we never talked ’bout it again.”

“I’ve known Toby since he was very young, Prissy, and I believe that since he willingly married you, he was also willing to accept your baby no matter who had fathered her. I don’t understand your reluctance to even feed her.”

Prissy’s face contorted in pain. “I hate that man and what he done to me. I can’t love no baby that comes from his seed.”

Jasmine poured a cup of tea for herself, then settled back in the chair. “Do you believe Jesus saved you?”

There was a look of surprise on Prissy’s young face. “ ’Course I do. I took Jesus into my heart when I was thirteen years old. Ol’ Samuel took me to the big pond and baptized me—I thought I was gonna drown he held me under there so long. Never liked the water much after that. You know I didn’t like traveling on those river boats coming back here,” she added.

“Yes, I remember,” Jasmine replied with a smile. “When Samuel talked to you about taking Jesus into your heart, did he explain that Jesus’ death wiped the slate clean and our sins were forgiven?”

“Um-hmm. He told me dat. I told all them folks standing ’round the pond that I was asking Jesus into my heart and wanted Him to forgive me of my sins. After that, Ol’ Samuel dunked me in da water.”

Jasmine hesitated a moment. “You know, Prissy, when we accept Jesus as our Savior, He adopts us into His family and we become one of His children.”

“Um-hmm, I know dat.”

“And even though we’re soiled and stained from our sins, He wipes us all clean and pulls us close and loves us because we’re part of His family. He treats us as though we were spotless and perfect all of our lives.”

Prissy eyed her warily, obviously wondering where this conversation was leading. “I s’pose dat’s true enough,” she agreed slowly.

Jasmine grasped Prissy’s hand in her own. “You and I were sinners, yet Jesus died so we could be adopted into His family. And now here you are with this purely innocent little baby who has done nothing to deserve your disdain,” she said as the baby started whimpering in the other room. “I believe it would be most pleasing to God if you accepted this blameless child and adopted her into your heart. There is no doubt He loves little Emily as much as He loves you and me.”

A single tear rolled down Prissy’s cheek, and Jasmine reached to wipe it away. “Think about what I’ve said, Prissy. I can’t make you love Emily, but she
is
your child. Reject her and you’ll dwell in self-pity and despair; love her and you’ll reap untold blessings.”

The baby’s whimpers soon gave way to a lusty cry, and Jasmine rose from the chair. “Shall I bring her to you?”

Prissy nodded. “Guess so. She be hungry—I can tell her cry when she wants to nurse.” She turned her sad eyes to Jasmine. “Don’ know that I can be a good mama to her, Miz Jasmine.”

“But you will try, won’t you? At least think about what I’ve said? After all, Emily didn’t choose to come into the world this way. She’s as innocent of this mess as you are. Perhaps thinking of it that way will help you to love her.”

“Guess that’s so.” Emily’s cries increased and Prissy drew a deep breath. “I’s ready for her now.”

Jasmine left the room uttering a silent prayer that God would continue to melt the ice that had formed around Prissy’s heart.

McKinley removed his pocket watch and clicked open the gold case. He’d best leave for the depot in the unlikely event the train arrived early. He didn’t want to chance Rupert’s being seen in Lowell. Not many folks in town would know him, yet there was always the possibility that Henrietta or Prissy might be in town on errands. And the thought that Jasmine or Nolan could be in Lowell conducting business was worrisome indeed.

“I must remember to be particularly careful. I can’t afford for anything to go wrong,” he muttered as he drove the buggy through town.

He heard the train whistle in the distance as he pulled back on the reins and jumped down from the buggy. The train would be arriving on schedule. With what he hoped was a casual gait, he walked into the station and mingled with the crowd, some of them awaiting arrivals and some of them departing. He surveyed the depot and sighed with relief when he didn’t spot anyone who might know Jasmine or Nolan.

McKinley relaxed and walked to the platform as the train screeched and panted to a halt. He was straining to see above the crowd, hoping to catch sight of Rupert’s familiar face when he felt a friendly slap on his shoulder. He turned and was face-to-face with Paddy.

“A fine day, is it not?” Paddy asked as he gazed toward the blue sky lined with filmy threads of pristine white.

“In-indeed . . . yes, yes it is,” McKinley stammered, the words sticking in his throat.

“Are ya na working today?” Paddy inquired.

McKinley struggled to organize his thoughts. “Yes, yes I am. I came to escort a gentleman to the Appleton—he’s interested in conducting business with the Associates and is meeting with Mr. Cheever.”

“I’m doin’ the same. The gentlemen from the Virginia Military Institute are arriving on this train, and I’ve the privilege of escorting them back to the farm.”

McKinley nodded and then moved a few steps away, hoping to distance himself from the young man.

“And there they are, looking distinguished in their military garb.” Paddy grinned at McKinley before waving to the uniformed men. “I best be off.”

“Yes, you don’t want to keep them waiting,” he said as he caught sight of Rupert walking toward him. Relief washed over McKinley as Paddy hurried off to meet his guests. He was still watching after the young man as Rupert approached.

The two men quickly exchanged greetings. “I think it best we leave for my home as soon as possible. It wouldn’t be wise for Jasmine or Nolan to learn you’ve come here. I still do not understand why you wouldn’t agree to meet elsewhere. This is dangerous,” he said as the two men neared the buggy.

“What’s life without a bit of danger, McKinley? I don’t remember your being so anxious—you need to relax.”

“Appears our buggies are side-by-side,” Paddy said as he and the three uniformed men drew near. Paddy looked directly at Rupert before turning his gaze to McKinley. “I hope yar business dealings go well.”

“Thank you. Give my regards to Jasmine and Nolan,” McKinley replied.

“Aye, I’ll be sure ta tell them.”

“Irish?” Rupert asked.

“How could you possibly guess?” McKinley asked sarcastically. “Nolan has placed him in a position of authority at the horse farm. In fact, Paddy capably operated the business during the months Jasmine and Nolan were in Mississippi.”

Rupert laughed as he settled himself in the buggy. “Then it appears we have come face-to-face with the danger you anticipated.”

McKinley stared at him in utter disbelief. “Do you
want
them to know you’re here?”

“Not particularly. However, I’m not going to tremble in fear. Besides, the boy has no idea who I am. What harm is done? None!”

McKinley shook his head. “Quite frankly, I have too much at stake in this matter. I’ve told you in my letters that I must secure funds in order to repay loans. I’ve taken a beating during this economic downturn. My wife is beginning to question me, and before long, her father will also be inquiring into our affairs. Therefore, it is my sincere hope you came here to conduct business.”

“Rest easy, good man. We do, after all, have
nearly
the same goals.”

E
LINOR READ
the precisely penned notice one final time, then tucked it into her skirt pocket. She should have known this would come. After all, it was the way of things with her. God had granted her a brief respite—time to believe she might enjoy an ordinary life. But now her normal life would be snatched away.

Though deep in the recesses of her mind she had known this would happen, Elinor hadn’t remained alert enough to protect herself. She had let down her guard and permitted Reggie and Justin Chamberlain into her heart. Throughout the summer, she had taken delight in their company, enjoying the picnics and fishing, long walks, enlightening conversation, and laughter—joyful laughter. Brick by brick, her inner protective wall had crumbled and had slowly been replaced by an abiding fondness for both Justin Chamberlain and his daughter.