Southern Heart

By Joan Lee

An epic love story! This is the saga of the Oldstrum family of Virginia. Four sisters fight to keep their loved ones in their lives as the Civil War threatens to sweep them away on a swift current of blood and danger. By a sudden twist of Fate, Marjorie, the eldest daughter, is handed the reins of the family fortune. Setting aside their sibling rivalry, the sisters leave the plantation and begin an exciting adventure as they trek into the Virginia mountains to save the best equine bloodlines in the country from obliteration! This is a story of passions and fortunes won and lost-- the metamorphosis of the Oldstrum family, awash in a sea of romance, action and adventure! If you liked "Gone With the Wind," you'll love "Southern Heart!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312391574

Book preview

Southern Heart

Southern Heart

Copyright © 2013 by Joan Lee

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

ISBN# 978-1-312-39157-4

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, place and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design and illustration by Wallace F. Trust

Chapter 1: Southern Heart

Thundering hooves grew louder as the men in black gained ground. Father had warned her not to cut through the woods alone. The deafening racket increased vociferously, drowning out all other sound. My God, is it my heart that bangs so loudly?

Loathsome figures loomed out of the shadows. All wore masks, as if off to a ball. Marjorie would have laughed, had she not been startled; every fiber in her being screamed danger! The hairs on her neck stood up as she urged her horse forward into a gallop.

Inconceivably, the men pursued her. How dare they! Trespassing upon her family’s land, lurking in the woods, and now they had the audacity to give chase! The horse Marjorie rode upon was a solid steed with good heart, giving her confidence she could outrun this band of scallywags. Perspiration beaded upon her forehead as she dug her heels into the animal's sides. "Fly, boy, fly!"

A great burst of speed came from her mount as he too seemed to sense the urgency of the situation. An icy vein ran down her spine as the men in pursuit kept up. "Faster!" Her command was barely audible as the sound of racing hooves filled the air.

Suddenly Marjorie was airborne-- her horse had stumbled! Father’s words of warning rang in her mind as she flew through the air. No good will come from all this riding. You are a lady. Act like one!

The impact surprisingly did not hurt, but now the men were upon her! Terror seized her with an icy grip. One of them leaned over her, an odd sneer upon his greasy lips. So you thought you could outrun us, little girl?

The man’s laugh was ugly, repulsive, his rotten teeth disgusting. We’ll teach you not to run. You think you’s better'n us! Spittle ran down the side of his mouth. An angry, hideous scar protruded across his face. A more grotesque figure of a man Marjorie had never seen. Reaching down, he easily picked her up. Now the scream that had been lurking within her chest began to give way. He dared to touch her!

*  *  *

Marjorie startled awake, out of the deep dark depths of the hideous dream into the comfort of her own room. Relief flooded through her. Life as she knew it was hers again! Glad to be back in her own world. The nightmare had seemed all too real.

Birdsong and honeysuckle filled the air, greeting her to another perfect Virginia day. Quickly dressing into her riding attire, she quietly crept downstairs and out to the stables before Father caught her. Timothy Huntford, a longtime friend of the family, was to arrive this morning-- exactly why she wanted to go riding. She was hoping to catch him on horseback before he reached the house.

A stately cypress stood on top of a hill of the thousand-acre estate, offering shade and an excellent view of incoming visitors. Arriving at the tree, she dismounted and tied her reins to a branch.

Politics the last couple years had kept Father and Timothy so busy that she rarely saw Father, and it was politics again bringing Timothy to Wind Haven. The upcoming Presidential election was, for some reason, causing a fervor amongst the Southerners. In the past when Timothy had visited, there had been picnics, dances, musical recitals. Even jousting had been a venue of the day. Now, it was all discussions of politics behind closed doors.

Having learned of Timothy’s impending arrival, she had devised a plan to capture a few minutes of frivolity with her longtime friend. In fact, Timothy Huntford was the party responsible for her scandalous riding outfit. Wearing breeches and riding astride was simply not done by a lady-- except Marjorie did. At least on their own estate and at Cloveroke, out of the way of prying eyes and wagging tongues.

It had started at Cloveroke, Timothy Huntford’s estate, after the death of Mrs. Huntford. Timothy would take Marjorie, then a small child, with him upon his magnificent steed Midnight. Thus, she had learned how to ride. Father often would join them on his large horse Prancer, and together they would ride to the bluffs by the sea.

Pounding waves beckoned and it had seemed she could feel Timothy’s broken heart through his jacket as he held her in his arms. Somehow she sensed her being with him eased his pain; as he had lost his wife and baby in childbirth.

Her favorite play fantasy in those days had been pretending Timothy was a pirate; carrying her away to sea on Father’s ship, the Virginia Heart, with Father in hot pursuit and the townspeople not far behind. Timothy was extremely handsome, and if a pirate was going to steal you, it would be most fortunate if he looked like him.

Those grand rides still burned brightly in her memory. Before long, she was able to ride Midnight by herself, though secretly missing riding double with Timothy-- having developed a crush, as young girls often do. Growing older, she had come to appreciate the freeness of riding single, and now here she was, a grown woman, waiting for her knight in shining armor, so she could challenge him to a race. Times had become boring of late, and she was looking forward to this meeting. It smacked of the old days.

The snap of a branch and sounds of approaching hooves brought her out of her reverie. Mounted on his horse, Timothy smiled down upon her. Good day, Ma'am. I was on my way to Wind Haven to see a young girl named Marjorie Oldstrum. You have not seen her, have you? I would say she dresses like you-- something of a rogue.

Marjorie laughed at his silliness. "Very funny, Timothy! How dare you mention my clothes! After all, you are the one who started it."

You have me there! I just was... not quite prepared to see you all grown up. What are you doing here? Timothy asked as he dismounted.

I suppose I could ask the same thing of you, Mr. Huntford, Marjorie quipped in return.

Taking hold of her hands, he held them at arms' length. "Let me look at you. I believe you have grown a foot since I saw you last. When I spotted your horse, I knew it must be you, and I could not resist. You are like a breath of fresh air-- honeysuckle in winter to an old man."

Marjorie’s eyes became wide with disbelief-- he was not old. In fact, he looked exceedingly handsome, especially for a man of forty! Timothy Huntford, you are not old! It's just the way you think sometimes. I am sure you can outride and out-dance men half your age, and that is why I am here. Let’s race to the stables! she challenged with an impish grin.

"So, I get the benefit of a tired horse. You are much too kind, Marjorie." Timothy replied with a laugh.

Then let him rest awhile. This moment will not come again so easily-- let us take advantage of it. You have the rest of the day to talk politics, Marjorie said while taking his horse and tying it near hers.

"When did you become so wise?… No, actually, I think you were born wise, as too few are. But now you are big enough to get my horse from me!" he said, tweaking her nose.

Smiling, Marjorie answered coyly, I did not notice a struggle-- tweaking his nose in return; making them both laugh.

Let’s watch the clouds, as we used to do, she suggested, knowing full well she was detaining Father’s guest. He’s probably bored out of his mind with all this political business, she thought to herself. Finding a nice soft grassy spot, they sat down, quietly enjoying each other’s company. The weather was superb-- the sky a magnificent blue.

Pointing at a cloud, Marjorie said, There’s a horse!

Timothy smiled. I should have known you would see a horse. There’s a bear, he said, indicating a particularly puffy cloud.

Looks more like a powder puff to me, Marjorie commented.

"If that cloud is a horse, then this one is a bear," Timothy insisted.

Well, I suppose; if you insist.

I do.

What wonderful fun! Just like old times. Marjorie lay back on the grass. It was something she would never do in the company of another man; particularly unescorted, but Timothy had always seemed like a big brother to her, and this was a game they had played together since she was a little girl. They lay quietly, observing the clouds.

Timothy took hold of her hand. Thank you, Marjorie. I really needed this and did not know it. I have kept myself on such a tight schedule that I forgot to take time out for myself. Softly he kissed her hand. I wish I could make time stand still. I could lay here forever, with you.

That last sentence made Marjorie take note. Timothy had never remarried, but she had come to grips a long time ago with the fact that he would never think of her in any other way than a young girl. Could he be changing his mind?

Picking up a lock of her hair, Timothy stared at it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the universe. Looking into his eyes, she saw they did not lie; he loved her as always, but now there was something else in them, something she had never seen before--A yearning for something more. Marjorie felt her breath catch and her whole body had a heightened awareness. Sitting up, she felt oddly peculiar. 

Marjorie, your father will be coming soon to Cloveroke. Will you come with him? I have missed you, and besides, I have something special to give to you.

All right, I will come. But first tell me what it is that you want to give me.

Timothy smiled and stood, offering her a hand up. No, I will not tell. You must come and find out for yourself. Now let us go to the house, before we get caught at our frivolities.

Marjorie could not help but wonder what it was that he wanted to give her. Darn the man! This was going to niggle at her until she found out. Very clever; Timothy knew she would come. He knew her well, as if they had been married for years. Interesting thought.

Untying their horses, they led them down the hill in silence. All right. You ready for that race? Timothy asked.

Looking at him quizzically, she replied If I win, you have to tell me what it is that you want to give me.

Laughing, Timothy shook his head. No, this is just for fun. If you want to know, you will have to come to Cloveroke. And if you do not want to get left behind, let me suggest you mount your horse, Timothy spoke as he mounted and took off at a run.

Quickly Marjorie swung herself up and madly dashed up from behind. This particular stretch of road, the main entrance to Wind Haven, went through an old walnut grove. Large trees lined either side of the lane, making for a wonderful cool ride in the shade. The road was kept rut-free. Perfect for a race.

Encouraging her horse to go faster, she promptly caught up with Timothy, laughing and calling,Hi-Ho! as she thundered past.

The horse he rode was a beautiful animal; had he not been riding it all day he would have easily beaten her. Even so, he was not pressing his mount.

The stables were quiet, with no one in sight. Marjorie quickly rode her horse directly inside, knowing Father would not like the fact she was racing gentlemen in her breeches-- even if it was just Timothy.

Arriving close on her heels, Timothy remarked, I see you have been keeping up on your riding, Marjorie. Do you outrun all the other gentry in the area?

"As if Father would allow it! You are the only man father has ever allowed to see me in my breeches; of course, you are the one who started my riding career. It’s all your fault! Remember how Nanny Mae grumbled at having to make a new pair of riding pants for me every year, so Mother would not find out?"

Timothy looked surprised, Nanny Mae grumbled about sewing for you?

Honestly, you men never listen to women. If you had, you would have heard her. She grumbled quite loudly, but I did not mind. She went to a lot of trouble making me my lovely little pants with matching vests and jackets. How I loved those riding outfits!

I am glad her grumbling did not bother you. It is not fitting to have a servant grumbling at a little girl, Timothy replied. He stood looking intently at her for a few moments. You must have a string of beaus, now you have turned into such a beautiful lady.

That is a funny thing to say while I am standing here in my breeches. Actually, I find most of the eligible men boorish. Of course, I have been comparing them all to you, and they have not measured up. Goodness, they do not even dance as well as you! Marjorie replied with a grin.

That will not do. Perhaps we should offer dance lessons to the offending gentry, Timothy teasingly replied.

Oh Timothy, you have not changed at all, Marjorie said, giving him a hug. I'd better go change before Father sees me. He no longer approves.

Timothy picked up her hand. I cannot stay long, but perhaps we could find time for some piano before I leave. I have missed your singing, and there are a couple tunes I have written that I would like you to hear.

Of course, I would love to. Say after lunch?

Sounds perfect. Until then, Mistress Marjorie, Timothy lifted her hand to his lips, all the while looking into her eyes.

Feeling herself start to blush, Marjorie turned and started walking away. See you later, she called over her shoulder. 

Brinks, the head stableman, appeared with perfect timing. See to the horses, Brinks. Take special care of Mr. Huntford’s. He will be leaving again today.

Yes, Miss, right away, he replied, hurrying over to the horses. Brinks took impeccable care of the animals. There was no one she trusted more with the horses than Brinks, even if he was a slave.

*  *  *

Sitting in the library, Henry Oldstrum waited for Timothy Huntford, having heard him and Marjorie thunder up on their horses. Secretly he approved of Marjorie’s independent nature, even though it was not an accepted norm of society. He liked her strength of character and sharpness of wit. Too bad she was a girl. Things would be a lot simpler if she were a man.

There was a soft tap on the library door. Come in, Henry called, not bothering to get up. He felt so tired these days.

A servant opened the door and Timothy entered the room, looking extremely good for a man who had just been traveling on horseback. Perhaps he had better news than expected.

Timothy walked over and shook hands. How are you, Henry? You do not look like you have been getting any sleep.

"You are right there. The Presidential election has been on my mind-- and what it might mean if Lincoln wins. The split ticket could possibly give the Republicans a victory, even with a nobody like Lincoln. Slumping further into his chair, Henry mumbled Damn it all. I have warned and warned those fools… But will they listen? Hell no. They're letting themselves get sucked into this slave controversy and they could get sideswiped. Now we’re in for it. Those Republicans will be stirring up trouble sure as I'm sitting here."

"Well, Henry, let us hope that Lincoln, if elected, will not be as bad as you think. He has gone on record as being neither an advocate of slavery nor an abolitionist. Claiming abolitionists do more harm than good. And while he is against slavery spreading to the new territories, I find it hard to believe he would abolish slavery altogether. He must be aware of what a hornets’ nest it would stir up. All of the South would secede from the Union! And what in the world would they do with four million unemployed, homeless Negroes? Truly a logistical nightmare. The poor houses are full already with white people. Legally, the government has no right to seize the slaves, and I am sure they do not have the money to compensate owners for them. It is inconceivable that even the Republicans could be that stupid."

"Never underestimate the stupidity of man, or the promises of politicians before they are elected. You know I'm not for slavery anymore, it's become outdated and frankly somewhat of an embarrassment but Lincoln is pro-Federal government, and for developing the West. He will hamstring the South, mark my words. Sure, his family was originally from Virginia---poor dirt farmers. Bet he’s got a grudge towards us big Southern boys. He was smart enough to marry into a prominent Kentucky family, throwing our Southern brethren off by making them think he will treat the South fairly. He took to politics to keep from manual labor, not out of love for his country or a sense of duty. A Thomas Jefferson he is not. He is a little fish in a big pond. Those Republicans are using him for bait--appealing to the common man. They will play him like a puppet on a string. Don’t you ever wonder why they dropped their favorite candidate and went with Lincoln instead? There is a reason for it. If he gets elected, I am afraid we will be heading for stormy waters."

Looking out the bay window at the lovely view of Wind Haven, Timothy reflected upon Henry’s words before he spoke. "If Lincoln tries to abolish slavery altogether, then we are indeed in for some stormy weather. Here in Virginia we are well out of it, with the ordinance going into effect that frees our slaves for compensation. It is becoming less lucrative to own slaves, unless you have large cotton crops. We are headed into a new modern age in which machines will soon outdate manual labor in the fields.--- You may be onto something about the Federal government; perhaps they are afraid the other states will follow suit, and want to be compensated for freeing their slaves. Now that would be a mighty big chunk of money, and I know for a fact they do not have it."

South Carolina already wants to disentangle themselves from the Union.-- They are an independent lot. If Lincoln wins, it will send them over the edge, Henry flatly stated. "The Carolinas do not take kindly to the idea of the Federal government telling them what to do and how to run their lives; it sounds too much like British rule. It's the very issue Benjamin Franklin was talking about when he said there was a flaw in the make-up of government-- being at the mercy of the men who control it. He was concerned Federal government would get too large, and take away the rights of the very people it was formed to protect! The men that wrote the Constitution were of the highest integrity, but they were well aware that there is always someone waiting around the corner to grab what is not theirs. That is why Thomas Jefferson went on record for being pro-revolutionary… To keep the men in office honest. I pray it comes not to that, but slavery keeps getting in the way of the real issue, which is Federal government taking away state’s rights to govern themselves. The North in general perceives the issue as slavery, and the South sees it as the taking away of their rights.--- That damn book, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, has got everyone fired up. Now the Northerners think any-one with a slave is morally corrupt. Preposterous! There will always be some malfeasant to point a finger at but black slaves are, at least for the most part, some of the best cared-for workers I have seen. All eat on a regular basis, and have clean housing. What do they expect? They ought to have a look into their own factories up North. I have heard of abominable working conditions there, not to mention some of the filthy living quarters. People always like to point their fingers at someone else, and right now it is popular to point at slave owners!"

Timothy sighed, and turning around said,  Slave importation has already been legally stopped; as well it should. That thrashing machine of McCormick’s is going to make cotton pickers obsolete. It can do the work of ten men. I do not see slavery surviving much longer. It will rectify itself in another ten years or so, but to do it all at once would cause great chaos. I do not believe Northerners have any idea of how many black slaves there actually are in the South. It would certainly terrify the ladies to suddenly let loose a huge population of slaves-- especially where their numbers are larger than the whites.

Henry grunted in agreement, "The better informed are aware of this, but the abolitionists are seizing this opportunity to create hysteria, and the Republicans are fanning the fires of the self-righteous. It may be they do not want slavery to rectify itself when they can use it as a tool to gain power in Washington. I can see no good coming from this slavery issue. What is to be done?---I can see no logical answer," Henry spoke with great consternation.

"A proposal could be thought up and drafted. Perhaps, every slave holder could free a small percentage of slaves a year. A time frame could be given   to change over. That way funds could be found to compensate the owners or machinery given to replace the workers. Timothy felt quite pleased with himself coming up with such an agreeable solution.

The world will still want their cotton underwear. Except, perhaps, the religious zealots who would not mind holy undergarments, Timothy spoke with a wry smile upon his lips.

A knock at the door ended the conversation. Marjorie entered, carrying a tray and wearing a simple dress of white cotton lace with a yellow satin sash, looking fresh as a spring daisy. Good morning Father, Mr. Huntford. I brought you some refreshments. Perhaps you are thirsty from your trip, Mr. Huntford?

Henry’s eyebrows shot up, My, aren’t we the formal one-- especially since you were racing our guest a few minutes ago.

"Father, you must have been in the sun too long. You know I would never do such a thing."

Piffle and nonsense! Do not hand me a line, because I am not taking it.

Clearing his throat, Timothy spoke up, I am sorry, Henry. It was a thoughtless thing for me to do.

Henry waved his hand, It is all right, Timothy. I just want her to stand accountable for her actions, and not lie about them. We have politicians in Washington for that. Now, how about pouring us some drinks? I could use a stiff one.

Marjorie handed her father his drink and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Timothy has agreed to have a small musical after lunch. You should join us. You stay in this library too much.

Henry was so preoccupied he did not notice the way Timothy and his daughter were staring at each other. There is some food on the tray, if you are hungry, she told Timothy as she handed him his drink. Not replying, he continued to stare into her eyes.

The intense exchange in front of her father made her uncomfortable. I will see you later, she said, swiftly leaving the room and shutting the heavy library door behind her. Marjorie felt jittery, her nerves playing havoc with her normally calm disposition. Was she only imagining Timothy’s attention? Or had he come to see at last, the woman she had become? Feeling both excited and frightened-- she was scared to let herself hope again. It had taken many years to get over the crush she had on him for so long, but her focus on Wind Haven and raising horses had helped her to gradually let go. Now he was stirring up those old feelings again. Only this time she was a full-grown woman, and he seemed to be looking at her in totally different way.

Running up the stairs, she called to her sisters Get up, you lazy creatures! We have company! Timothy Huntford is here! Music in the ballroom!

Several shrieks ensued.

Good grief! Lizzy said,