Godsend (Hell Yeah! Heritage), page 12
“Jolie, please stop!”
Across the creek, Jolie heard him. She stopped in her tracks. Frozen. The water had been cold and the air felt even colder. Her breath was coming in hard pants. Part of her wanted to turn and run back to his arms, but a more logical part reminded her that there was no way he would keep her, he couldn’t let her stay.
Austin McCoy was a law-abiding man. He would consider it his duty to take her to the settlement, turn her in, relinquishing her to her rightful owners.
Owners.
The fact that she was owned by another human being was still unfathomable to her. And what was worse? She was guilty. She was guilty of turning a blind eye, of accepting the unthinkable as normal, of walking by other people who were bound in chains and considering it to be acceptable.
And now she was doomed to the same fate.
The noise of Austin’s footsteps sounded through the brush. He was getting closer. A surge of terror spiked through her chest, giving her the strength to press on, to run farther.
As Jolie placed one foot ahead of the other, dodging logs, crashing through underbrush, she knew there was no hope. She wasn’t running toward anything; she was running from her broken dreams. There was no one else to turn to. No safe place to be. Night would fall and she would be alone. At some point, somewhere, she would succumb to something that would take her life.
No matter. Dying would be better than the man she loved surrendering her to a fate she could not face.
A few yards away, Austin spotted Jolie. She was as nimble as a small deer, but she was showing no discretion about her path. If he didn’t stop her, she was heading straight for a steep bluff, one that would come up out of nowhere for her and if she stepped off…would hurl her small body down a craggy cliff. “Jolie! Stop! Please!”
Brambles tore her arms, limbs whipped her in the face, trunks of fallen trees with sharp stubs tore the flesh of her legs. Jolie wasn’t aware of this pain, all she could process was her heart breaking because the future she’d envisioned had just turned to ash.
Austin didn’t stop, he was almost to her. The way she mindlessly ran with no care for where she placed her feet was scaring him to death. She could step through a rotten log into a snake den, fall on a sharp stick…anything. “Jolie! Honey, wait!” he yelled, just as he caught up, snatching her up and clutching her to his heart.
“No!” Jolie struggled to get down, to get away. “Let me go!” She wouldn’t look, wouldn’t turn her head, wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t stay. Please, just let me go! Don’t give me away, please.”
Austin’s heart felt like it had been crushed beneath someone’s boot heel. “I’m not going to give you away. Let’s go back. We need to talk.”
It killed her soul to admit it, but she didn’t believe him. How could she? There was no way he could overlook her crime. “Please, if you ever cared anything about me at all, let me go.” Her struggles were weakening and his arms were like bands of steel.
Austin didn’t know what to do except to clasp her closer and walk. Sobs racked her body. She didn’t even react when he held her aloft as he waded across Polly Gotch. “Where were you going?” he asked in an even tone that belied the hammering of his heart.
Jolie hiccupped a sob. “Away. Nowhere.”
Austin felt her go limp in his arms. It was as if all the life had gone out of her.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Austin begged to differ. “Yes. You do.”
She had no idea what he meant, but she had no strength to argue.
For the rest of the journey, she did not fight.
She’d given up.
Sandy bayed, as if he were on the trail of something. Jolie shut her eyes, she knew that noise. If she left again, she would soon hear it as the dogs came after her. Her owner, Garrett Thomas, would be notified and he’d come for her.
Her life was over.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Upon reaching his cabin, Austin shifted her in his arms so he’d have one hand free to open the door. Once inside, he brought her to the fire, undressed her tenderly and dried her off. Without a word, he wrapped her in a blanket and sat down on the bed with her in his arms. The covers were still askew from where he’d lifted the mattress to find the deed. Both sets of papers now lay in disarray on the floor.
The whole time, Jolie had not said one word.
“Are you going to try and run again?” he asked.
“No.” Not right now. Later…she would make no promises. Why was he asking? “Are you going to tie me up?”
Austin felt like someone had just driven a spike into his chest.
“No, I’m not going to tie you up.”
To Jolie’s surprise, he lifted her from his lap to place her on the bed. Rising, he walked to the water barrel and filled a mug, bringing it back to her. “Drink. You’re exhausted.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the water and drank it thirstily.
Austin put his hands on his hips and watched her. He was still trying to understand what had happened. “Is your name Juliette Dumas?”
Holding the mug, her shoulders slumped. She gazed at Austin’s shoes, still damp from crossing the bayou. Defeated, she began to speak. “My name is Juliette Jolie Dumas. My mother and father, John Belmont, were not legally married. She was his placee, not his wife. My mother was a quadroon.”
Austin was familiar with the term. He’d made trips to New Orleans, while he still lived in luxury in Tennessee. He’d seen the beautiful mulatto women who were valued so highly by their white benefactors. He’d been to one of the quadroon balls where rich Creole men came to, in essence, shop for a woman to see their needs beyond what they desired from their wives. He also knew that some great love matches came from these unions. Some men cared for two families and some never married anyone else, preferring to build their life with the woman of color who’d captured their attention, and many times their heart.
He wasn’t unaware of such things.
He wasn’t so closed off and patrician that such things offended him.
But this wasn’t New Orleans.
Things were different there, the rest of the country wasn’t so broad-minded or modern thinking. His father always said New Orleans was a city that should’ve been located in Europe, not on the American continent.
And even in New Orleans, there were many who did not fall under the protection of a white benefactor. Many were enslaved, living lives of servitude.
When Austin said nothing, Jolie raised her face and saw how troubled he looked, how conflicted. “I have no desire to cause you worry.” She stood. “If you’ll just let me leave, I’ll go. Please don’t have me arrested.”
To her shock, right before her eyes, Austin crumpled. He went to his knees in front of her, laid his head against her middle, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m not going to turn you in. How could I? My life and heart is so wrapped up in you, I wouldn’t survive if you went away.”
Relief swamped Jolie, her own knees began to buckle. In the next heartbeat, Austin caught her, rose to his feet, and held her close.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. I tried not to lie, I tried to tell you as much truth as I could.” She buried her face in his neck. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted to live.”
Needing to kiss her as much as he needed to breathe, Austin covered her mouth with his. Not a passionate kiss, not a chaste one. This was a kiss of promise, a seal of devotion. He poured every bit of his heart into the act, needing to convey what he was feeling.
When his lips finally released hers, he pressed his forehead to her face. “I need to understand everything. I want to know every detail. But before we begin, know this.” He looked into her eyes. “Nothing you could say, nothing you could reveal will make one whit of difference to me. I love you, Jolie Belmont.”
She gave him a small smile. “Not Belmont, while my father loved me to distraction, I’m still a bastard.”
Austin shut her mouth with another kiss. “Don’t say that. You are precious to me. I don’t care about the details of your birth, they aren’t important to me at all.”
Jolie wrapped her arms around his neck, marveling at her good fortune. She’d found a man among men. A hero. “I love you so much, Austin.”
“Good.” He walked to the table with her in his arms, placing her gently in a chair. He prepared them both a plate from the bacon and hoe cakes she’d cooked earlier. “This is cold, but let’s eat while we talk.”
Jolie sat primly, knowing the next few minutes would be difficult. Austin deserved the truth and she would tell him. When he placed the food in front of her, she gave him a grateful smile, then took a few bites. “Where do you want me to begin?”
Austin drank her up with his eyes. He never wanted to go back to the days when no one sat across from him but shadows. “At the beginning, where else?”
After taking one bite of the hoe cake and a sip of water, she began. “My grandmere came to this country on a slave ship from Martinique. She brought with her all of her beliefs and customs, many of which she passed on to me. A free man of color, part white, fell in love with her and they jumped the broom. After her husband saved the life of Grandmere’s owner, she gained her release from slavery. My mother was born of that union and she grew up much like I did – protected, spoiled, shielded from the harsh realities of life. She met John Belmont one day when he came upon her buggy, which had lost a wheel. He stopped to help her and they said it was love at first sight. They had an…” she coughed, self-consciously, “arrangement, but never said vows in front of a priest, of course.” She locked gazes with Austin. “My father loved me, I never doubted it for a moment.”
“I have no doubt either, my darling. You are easy to love.”
His kind words gave her strength to keep going. “My father provided a bungalow for my mother and me near the homestead Grandmere owned. A cousin of mine, Abraham, also resided close by. My childhood was idyllic.” She smiled, remembering. “The stories I told you earlier were all true. I ran free in the swamp, playing games and catching fireflies, surrounded by a lush paradise filled with flowers and wildlife. I had no care, whatsoever. My mother and grandmere educated me, and my father provided books and taught me himself sometimes. I learned things about the world, literature, and history. Nothing was withheld from me. I even learned to be a healer from my grandmother. She taught me many things, she was very powerful.”
“I can picture you in my mind, laughing and playing, I am jealous of those who knew you then.”
Jolie’s face fell. “They are all dead. All except Abraham and I’ll never see him again.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what happened.” He reached across the table and touched her hand.
“One day, my father came to see us. He did that often, he’d either come spend the day with us or take us for a drive. Sometimes we went on trips together.” She picked up her spoon, rubbing her thumb up and down the handle absentmindedly. “I often wondered why we couldn’t live with my father at Oak Hill. Other children lived with their fathers, like Abraham.” She shrugged. “I didn’t dwell on it. I was happy. But one day…one day he came and told my mother they would be taking a trip together by steamboat to New Orleans. I wanted to go, but he said this was a trip just for the two of them.” Her face grew very sad. “They went, leaving me with Grandmere. I was playing outside when I heard Grandmere scream. I ran to her and she standing in the yard wailing, she’d had a vision that the vessel had blown up, burned, and that my family was dead.”
“A vision?” Austin frowned, listening.
“Yes, she…knew things. Things from the past and things from the future. She had the sight.”
Pausing for a moment, Jolie seemed to be collecting her thoughts. Austin waited patiently.
“She said I’d have it too, that it would grow stronger as I became a woman.” She gripped the spoon tightly, holding it upright. “I don’t think I have it, only a few snatches of knowledge, nothing that would help me or I wouldn’t be in the predicament that I’m in.”
“Are you sure? You’re here with me. The safest place in the world you could possibly be. Are you sure it didn’t lead your footsteps to me?”
Jolie looked up at him, her face breaking into a smile. “Maybe. I’d like to think so.”
“What happened next? Was your grandmother’s vision correct?”
She sighed. “Yes. My parents had been killed when the steamboat’s boiler burst. The boat caught fire. Some were killed in the initial explosion, some burned and some drowned. My parent’s bodies were recovered, but I never saw them. My uncle Felix, father’s brother, went to claim them. My father was buried at Oak Hill, my mother’s body was brought back to our home and buried beneath a big oak where I used to swing and be happy. After that…”
“Go ahead, darling, tell me everything.” He hated how unhappy she looked. The faster she purged this sorrow, the faster he could assure her that he’d move heaven and earth to insure she’d never be hurt again.
“I lived with Grandmere for a few months. I missed my parents, but she was good to me. Abraham and I became inseparable, even more so than before. I was so lonely. We had such plans.” She looked wistful. “We were going to move to Paris someday where he would seek a career on stage. Abraham loves to sing.” Her face clouded. “But Grandmere died. My father’s brother heard about my situation and felt obligated to come for me.” Jolie looked down. “I moved to my family’s home, the plantation, Oak Hill – and everything changed.”
“How?” He could imagine, but he needed to hear the words from her lips.
“In every way. I saw things I didn’t understand. People were in chains, or working in fields guarded by overseers with whips and dogs. They were treated like cattle, lived where they were told, ate what they were given. No freedom. Unable to make decisions for themselves. Their families could be torn apart at a moment’s notice.” Her voice faded away. “And me?”
Austin ceased to eat, just staring at her as he watched myriad emotions flit across her face.
“I met family I’d never met before. My father’s mother, my uncles’ wife and his daughter. Charlotte.” She smiled, her face lighting up for the first time. “I loved Charlotte and she loved me. She never saw me as anything but an equal.”
Austin hated what he was about to hear.
“My grandmother and aunt felt differently. For the first time I was introduced to the fact that I was less. I was different. Even though we looked alike to the eye, I was not like them. They were very clear as to my station, my status. I wasn’t allowed to be part of the family, nor was I exactly relegated to the role of a servant. My room was off the kitchen. I never ate meals with the family.” She began to tear her remaining hoe cake in small pieces. “Charlotte and I played together, many times discussing the reasons behind my lot in life. Uncle Felix wouldn’t allow me to be mistreated when he was around, but…he wasn’t always around. When the family had company, I was to remain hidden. When rumors got out to their friends that I was there, it brought shame to the family. Charlotte wanted to include me in things, but she wasn’t allowed. Suitors would come to call, but I never had one.”
“Thank God.” Austin stated, making Jolie laugh and causing him to explain. “I wasn’t being thankful for your treatment, only that you weren’t courted by some buffoon.”
“No, I wasn’t wooed.” She gave him a smile, which didn’t last long as her thoughts went back to Oak Hill. “My uncle was killed fighting a duel. My grandmother and aunt told me that the duel was fought over me, defending the family’s honor. They said I wasn’t worth defending and they hated me for being the cause of his death.”
Austin found himself clenching his fists, anger rising at the people who mistreated an innocent such as Jolie.
“One day they called me to the parlor. A man was there, a man I’d never seen before. They told me I had to leave with him.” She stopped speaking, staring down at the table. “They told me I’d been sold. My price would help the family survive after the loss of my uncle.” She frowned. “I went from being my father’s daughter to being a slave. I became like the people in the fields. Jolie glanced up at Austin, a blush rising on her face. “My life changed drastically. I was taken to New Orleans and put in a holding pen. I was paraded across an auction block naked and bought by a representative of a man named Thomas Garrett. He was on his way to Atlanta, so the man named Coffi, who’d bought me originally agreed to bring me to Texas for a price. I was herded, walked, paraded in chains through towns and field. For weeks. Until, finally…”
“You came to me.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I wasn’t alone. There were two other women, Sally and Margarete. Coffi treated us so roughly, he raped them.” At Austin’s tightened jaw, she went on. “The only reason I escaped that fate was the promise he’d made my buyer. My price had been high because I was a virgin.”
“And beautiful.”
Austin’s observation didn’t make her feel any better. “He treated us like dogs. We had to beg for food and water. My clothes were rags, as you remember.”
He remembered seeing her for the first time. “How did you get away?”
“We stopped for him to use the bathroom. I saw an opportunity and tried to get the key from the saddlebag. He came back and started flailing us with a whip. He accidentally hit the horse, and when he did, the horse bolted, dragging us behind it. Margarete was killed, her neck broke when she was slammed against a tree.” She could see this was bothering Austin. His concern touched her heart.
“What happened then, how did you get free?”
