Southern Legacy: Completed Version Page 4

  “Jo, we’ll fix everything. Grandfather sent for me to prepare you for the wedding on Saturday…”

  “Oh, Grace Ann, I can’t. I couldn’t. I won’t.”

  “You must. Mr. Whitney agrees with Grandfather. Though, I thought Mr. Whitney was going to have a heart attack when Grandfather said he was going to give permission to Wade’s cousin…what’s his name, Lieutenant Smythe…for your hand. Mr. Whitney put a stop to that.”

  There was a long pause. “Cullen…Cullen asked for my hand?”

  “Lord help me! You didn’t know. What did you think Lieutenant Smythe did when Harry Lee caught you two in the garden? He done it all proper like.”

  Jo eyed her cousin, confused, but she shouldn’t have been. For as long as she had lived under this roof, it had seemed others knew more about her life than she did herself. She shook her head. “He shouldn’t have. I told him not to…we met by accident.”

  “Well, Grandfather told him he would give it consideration, but Mr. Whitney said your papa would be fit to be tied. A Yankee. Never.”

  Jo pictured the Navy lieutenant in her grandfather’s study, explaining his position. Lieutenant Smythe had a manner about him that few would question, but she did. Why would he do so? It only magnified her problem.

  Seeing him again, she realized time had not eased his manner. Solemn and serious, smiling did not appear to be one of his natural qualities. Unlike Wade, Cullen would not be considered good-looking. Tall and lean, he had acquired a slight scar under his left eye since she had last seen him, but in a way it added to his appearance. No, she thought him ruggedly handsome.

  His eyes…brooding dark eyes stared into hers as he had her in his grasp in the garden. Something when he held her mesmerized her being.

  It touched her that he had offered for her hand, but it was quite out of the question. She could never marry someone out of obligation. Though, she feared that a husband would be found for her quickly after this incident…if one could be found for her.

  She fumbled with her wrap and hugged it close to her. “I would not suppose it was a true proposal…he is a gentleman whether he is a Yankee or not. He felt it was his duty. Nothing more.”

  “I will say that it is what a Southern gentleman would do.” Grace Ann shrugged and gave Jo her sad eyes. “But I’m afraid it will never do. Now where is your Gillie? We don’t have time to have a gown made. So I have brought a trunk of my gowns that we need to sort through…I have a green silk I believe would be most becoming, but it will have to be altered.”

  Jo nodded silently. It mattered little what she said or felt. Her course had been set.

  Chapter Four

  A hazy sun shone in the early morning sky. Jo rode onward, determined on her path. She didn’t look back. She didn’t dare.

  She chose the path that ran straight to Miss Hazel’s house. Most times when she called on her old mammy, she would take a roundabout way to disguise her visits. It had been another place Wade and she had met each other.

  Oh, how she longed for Miss Hazel’s arms about her. When her father had left her with Grandpa Henry, it had been the only comfort she had for such a long time.

  Her father had left the older black woman in Charleston when he departed the city. He had no need for her with Jo firmly set within the Buchanans’ household. Since her grandfather had emphatically refused to take Miss Hazel within his home, her father had set up his old servant not far from Jo…close enough for Jo to visit.

  Little less than three miles down the road toward Charleston, Miss Hazel lived in a log cabin. It sat a stretch from the road’s edge. On her right, woods crowded the view filled with oak, maple, and walnut trees, covered with Spanish moss. On her left, there were unawakened fields. Within the next few weeks, slaves would litter the area and plant for the new harvest.

  A little farther on, the dirt road opened to a small clearing. The sight of Miss Hazel’s home bought her to a halt. Not much to look at: just a whitewashed wooden house with chickens running wild in the front yard. A water barrel sat out by the porch and clothes hung on a line out back, far from the outhouse.

  This was Miss Hazel’s home, of which she took great pride. The elderly lady had grown up in a small slave hut on her master’s property. Like most slaves, the cabins had been shared with others. Crowded and filthy, it had only one room with a dirt floor and open windows…a miserable place in both the winter and summer.

  Miss Hazel now lived in a house with glass panes and wooden floor. An iron stove and a dry sink comprised the kitchen. A brick chimney in each room warmed the cabin during the winter. A quilt she made with her own hand covered her bedstead. A table with two straight back chairs and a semblance of an old settee filled the living area.

  Most Sundays found Miss Hazel fixing fried chicken dinners for her company, mostly visiting slaves from the neighboring estates, which included the Montgomerys’. There was a reason Miss Hazel lived here. It was near her son, Heyward.

  Her master sold him when he was only ten to the Montgomerys. Miss Hazel never talked about that time in her life, except her heart soared when Papa bought her this place to be close to Hayward.

  “Life’s been good to me…I get to watch my family. Most don’t get that.”

  Jo knew that Miss Hazel considered her family, too. Jo found solace with that fact.

  Jo dismounted and walked up the three planked steps. Most days Jo would find Miss Hazel rocking on her rickety old rocking chair. She wasn’t there this morning. Too early.

  “Miss Jo, think. You still have time to get back to the house before anyone misses you.”

  Jo glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ve quite made up my mind. I won’t be humiliated in that manner. To…go to Wade’s wedding! It is something I could not bear…”

  Her voice faded as she choked back tears. The sudden sharp memory of her loss swept back upon her. The hurt Wade had inflicted in her was a fresh wound that only time would heal, if ever. She knew only she had to leave…no matter the cost.

  “Miss Jo, I helped you in this madness. I helped you deceive Mr. Temple, but this has to stop. I had Eudgo deliver your message about withdrawing your money…never did I imagine the wild scheme would work. I liked to have died when Eudgo brought back the satchel filled with what you requested.”

  There was more than a hint of reproach in Gillie’s words, but Jo ignored it. She had been desperate for money. For what she had planned, she would have need of it…at least until she found her papa.

  Moreover, it had been a calculated risk. Hadn’t Charlotte teased her so, going on that she was too clever by half?

  “Momma says gentlemen don’t like clever women and Jo, you act too clever most of the time. Momma says a girl should be ignorant and act more ignorant than she is.”

  At Madame Tamline’s French School for Young Ladies in Charleston, she had excelled in the schoolroom. She had heard, at times, one would wonder who was teaching the class. Why, it was the reason Charlotte Montgomery had become her best friend. Charlotte hadn’t the aptitude in the classroom. Jo offered to help Charlotte. They had been friends ever since…until now.

  Gillie had been with her at school, also. Gillie had been at her side since that awful day she had almost drowned. Papa had been outraged at the stunt Harry Lee pulled. So livid, he bought the small imp outright and gave her to Jo.

  Gillie was an orphan slave of her grandfather’s at the time she had almost drowned. Her mother had been a house servant in the Charleston household. From rumors, Jo gathered Gillie’s mother had been disturbed for a time before she walked in front of a carriage. Grace Ann whispered it hadn’t been an accident.

  Having only been a toddler, Gillie had been an outcast in the house. She hadn’t talked for years. When Jo had met her, she spoke sparingly and only when spoken to…the poor thing. She had been a tiny mite, but such a lovely, sweet child.

  The day Harry Lee held Gillie over the railing at the Battery was etched into her memory. Her heart froze at the sight.
It had been the first day she had met her cousins. She remembered the excitement playing on the Battery until that moment…when Gillie’s scream ripped through her when Harry Lee dropped her…

  Moreover, Harry Lee made no apologies for his behavior.

  “She’s Grandfather’s. One day she’ll be mine. I can do what I want with her.”

  Jo had been sickened. Gillie had been nothing more than a piece of property. But her papa had remedied the situation by giving Gillie to her…not as a slave. Papa had such strong feelings against slavery. He would never have given her a slave. She remembered clearly her father’s words.

  “She is your companion,” Papa said.

  “As a friend to be with me always,” Jo reasoned at the thought.

  “Yes, Jo. So you may never be alone.”

  Then he had left. She may not have been alone, but she felt so lonely, if not for Gillie and Miss Hazel. It was the reason she couldn’t leave without seeing Miss Hazel…the reason she was taking Gillie with her.

  Jo reached back and squeezed Gillie’s hand. “Gillie, I told you that Mr. Temple wouldn’t question the note. All I had to say was that I was certain he would understand the need to be discreet and the rush of the matter.”

  Gillie looked at Jo. Gillie didn’t have to say she was worried. It illuminated from her large, telling eyes. “You’re going to find yourself in trouble. That you are.”

  “I have it planned out. I just…I just need time away from here...”

  “Child, child, what have you gone and done now?”

  Jo turned to see Miss Hazel emerged in the open doorway. Jo didn’t hesitate. She ran into her old mammy’s arms.

  The weight of the world lifted and Jo lost control of her emotions. She sobbed, uncontrollably. Miss Hazel held Jo for a piece until she took Jo by the shoulders.

  Miss Hazel wasn’t a small woman, but rather tall and big boned with huge, shrewd eyes. Time had whitened her hair, which she kept pulled back tightly in a bun. Despite her years, her dry wrinkled hands held Jo strong and firm in her grasp. She shook her head sadly.

  “Tell Miss Hazel about it. What has happened?” Miss Hazel looked around Jo at Gillie, who held a wicket valise in her hand.

  “I’m going away…to Papa…I can’t stay here…” Jo swallowed back her tears. “Oh, Miss Hazel, Wade left me…he lied to me…he told me he was going to marry me…but he’s not…he’s…he’s marrying Clarissa Wragg tomorrow!”

  Again, Jo burst into tears. This time Miss Hazel would have none of it.

  “Dry those tears, child. Ain’t gonna bring him back. He’s not the first lying, deceitful man and he won’t be the last. Now sit down here and tell Miss Hazel all about it. From the look of ya, you haven’t eaten a thing. You must be hungry. I’ll make some breakfast while you talk.”

  Jo helped Miss Hazel fixed biscuits and gravy. Miss Hazel made the best biscuits for miles around. As she took the biscuits out of the stove, Jo wiped beading sweat from her brow. It was going to be a hot one today.

  All her instincts told her she needed to leave promptly to make the train to Atlanta, but she hesitated. It was so hard to leave Miss Hazel.

  “Honey child, sit down. There’s ain’t no need to rush. I smell a storm coming. You don’t wanna be out in the middle of it. So sit right down there. Won’t hurt nothin’.”

  “I have to go soon, Miss Hazel.” Jo eased down into the chair. “I have to make the afternoon train. I’ll eat and then I’ll have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I find Papa. He’ll fix everything for me when he hears what happened.”

  The old lady’s sharp eyes looked directly at Jo. “Ya only fooling yourself if you think your Papa is going to be happy. He wanted only one thing when he left you with your grandfather and that was to see that you were married all proper.”

  “Gracious, Miss Hazel, what did you expect me to do?” Jo defended herself. “Everyone hates me. Clarissa Wragg is telling lies about me to excuse Wade. Grace Ann says she has called me a trollop…”

  Jo found her voice shaking, and then faded to nothingness.

  “Oh, honey child, you have made a mess of things, but it happens. If ya run now, it will only get worse. Everything that lady is saying will be believed. Ya won’t be coming back.”

  Jo found she was unable to speak. Miss Hazel’s words sunk deep within her. She lowered her head and whispered, “I can’t. I can’t take their accusing eyes on me.”

  “If ya go, ya’ll never be able to show your face in these parts again. Ya know how it is. Besides, child, I ain’t raised no coward.”

  Oh, Jo wanted to say, but you have. I’m a coward.

  Suddenly, Jo heard horses riding up. She glanced around. Where was Gillie? Where was Miss Hazel’s boy, Lark?

  “Miss Hazel, what have you done?”

  Miss Hazel didn’t answer. She didn’t have to…the door swung open.

  Startled, she watched Lieutenant Smythe walk into the room. He wore no uniform, but fitted trousers and a blousy shirt. He ran his hand through his disheveled hair. His dark eyes flared his anger…at her. In that instant, he seemed unnaturally big, as he had years before…

  Jo took a step back. Her hand covered her mouth in disbelief. She didn’t know why but her every instinct screamed to run. This man was a danger to her.

  She forced herself to breathe. Her focus was so intent on Cullen, she barely saw the other who walked in with him. His companion was shorter and walked with a slight limp. His face had a semblance of a smile, which softened his gray eyes. He wore a hat, which he took off when he entered into the home, exposing his much lighter hair, almost white.

  Jo knew him well enough: Wade’s younger brother, Andrew Montgomery.

  “Miss Jo, I couldn’t let you leave.” Miss Hazel’s irritation flared. “It ain’t right. It ain’t!” Directing her attention on Gillie, who silently eased back into the cabin, Miss Hazel snapped, “I told you, girl, we needed Master Wade!”

  Oh, Good Lord, Miss Hazel had sent for Wade! Wade, who had deserted her! Oh, she had disappointed Miss Hazel! Her mammy wanted her to marry the man who would be master of Magnolia Bluff.

  Jo pressed her lips tightly together and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her. Voices surrounded her, but she couldn’t make out who said what… Her chest heaved heavily…

  Noises blended all together. For a moment, she was back in time…on the Battery the first day with her cousins. There had been a parade. Drums beat in rhythm; the excited rambling of people around her; the horses’ hooves clicking over the stone streets; the barking of orders from the man who led his regiment sitting tall upon his white horse. The soldiers rode in sync with each other. Nary a head of a horse hung down, as if they themselves served in the regiment.

  After it passed, Papa let her play with the other children…strangers who were her kin and their friends…laughing, giggling, and singing at the top of their voices. Grace Ann was there with her pretty set curls, sitting in a wooden railed wagon pushed by a couple of young blackies. Charlotte joined in along with a bunch of happy, fun-loving children, made of black and white.

  It was the first time Jo laid eyes on Gillie. Smaller than the rest, she ran behind everyone, but the little one laughed…Jo remembered her laugh. Then the clouds darkened, threatening rain…and Harry Lee appeared.

  The tallest in the group of boys who walked down the Battery toward them, his thick auburn hair escaped out from the bottom of his hat. His mouth frowned with the subtle evidence of facial stubble, as if he attempted to grow out a mustache. His eyes glared at Josephine, cold and dry.

  Jo sensed the stirring of anxiety with his presence. She had no memory of how or why Harry Lee grabbed hold of Gillie and hung her over the railing. Cruelty…nastiness…downright meanness…some kind of sport to impress his friends. He seemed to take great joy in Gillie’s screams.

  No one attempted to stop him. No one seemed to dare. She would never forget the look on his face…pure evil
…he laughed and then released the defenseless girl.

  “Miss Hazel, it wasn’t my fault. I went to Heyward like you said…”

  Gillie’s voice brought Jo back to the present. She watched Gillie edge back behind the men to be by her side.

  “He refused to get Master Wade…”

  “Well he should,” Cullen said bitingly. There was a cold glitter in his eyes as he glanced around the small room. His eyes lit upon the valise, and then back at her. “I had thought you innocent in this whole mess. Only now to discover, you are a vixen. This is what you had planned? Enticing Wade to leave with you?”

  There was a long pause before she uttered, “Vixen?”

  Vixen! Jo suppressed the flash of anger that went through her. It would do no good to explain to this man what she had intended.

  “You had me, Miss Wright. I believed you had been wronged. You must have thought me a fool for defending your honor in the manner I did.”

  “I had thought you a gentleman. It shows how wrong one can be.” Her tone was steady and cold. She glanced over at Andrew, who had remained silent.

  Andrew’s gaze lowered at her glare. He seemed disturbed. She wasn’t surprised. Charlotte had told her that Andrew blamed her for his limp. It had been her fault. He would never have broken his ankle if she hadn’t insisted someone jump over to save Gillie.

  Andrew had been with Harry Lee that day. He had watched Harry Lee without a word. Jo screamed, cried and rushed to the railing. Irritated, Andrew pushed Jo aside. He crawled under the rail and jumped down onto the beach. He had fallen on a rock and collapsed down in excruciating pain. He rolled on his side and clutched his ankle.

  His ankle had been broken. It had been a bad break. Even after it healed, Andrew walked with a limp. He had never forgiven her.