From These Ashes Part I: A Friend Loveth at All Times...Proverbs 17:17

By T.E. Reynolds

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• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 30, 2009
• ISBN: 9781463464509

T.E. Reynolds

In 1859 South Carolina stood on the threshold of war. The end to an era boldly knocked on every Southern door until even the peacemakers had no recourse but to allow its entrance. Without mercy, the war changed Southern lives forever. No amount of blood sacrifice shed during those tragic four years would atone for errors of past generations or gain empathy for those who so bravely fought for Southern independence. Reynolds considers himself a 21st century freedom fighter. Being a student of the War Between the States for the past forty years he felt called to tell this tale. Believing he has heard the voices of countless, honorable good men in gray, who served for a cause they believed in, crying out to be heard and not forgotten, he has written the story because he believes it is time the truth be told. So much history of the South’s struggle for independence has been written by the victor. Reynolds realizes his writing is no great literary accomplishment — just an interesting story that reveals a valuable truth to all Americans. He hopes his story will draw a reader, with no interest in this era, into the daily conflicts faced by those who lived during that time and provide them with an insight into the events that dramatically shaped 20th century America.

Book preview

From These Ashes

Part I

A Friend Loveth At All Times...Proverbs 17:17

by

T.E. Reynolds

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© 2009 T.E. Reynolds. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/26/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4343-7006-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4343-7007-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4634-6450-9 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009900012

The cover image has been used with Permission of Documenting the American South, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Libraries.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter One

Somewhere between the child of yesterday and the man of tomorrow, a restless James Travis impatiently waited for his father to join him on the veranda. Pacing back and forth, the young man sighed deeply when he heard his father grumbling inside the Big House. The bull-headed old man, bred from the sturdy stock of Virginians who had settled South Carolina’s mid country, was as different from his son as the 1857 political views held by Americans north and south of the Mason Dixon Line.

Without mercy, Beau imposed his treasured traditions on his only heir. And from all outward appearances, his son had learned well all the necessary protocol befitting a Southern aristocrat. However, if you could look into the young man’s heart, you would find a bit of a homespun rebel longing to be free of his father’s rigid training.

As the early morning sun crept over the treetops, James positioned his wide-brimmed hat on top of his dark hair. Reaching down, he adjusted his cravat over the white crispness of his shirt. Cravat tying was indeed an art, one requiring a great deal of patience, and as anyone at White Oaks would tell you, James frequently lacked that virtue.

When the black, brass-trimmed carriage came to a halt in front of the Big House, James smiled at the coachman. Knowing how much his childhood friend hated that black top hat nestled on his coarse, dark hair, James’ voice held a soft mocking laughter when he said, I must say, that hat seems to suit you well!

Why ain’t dat mighty kind of yo’ to notice, Massa James. Tinker grimaced and nodded appreciation with false sincerity. James laughed softly watching Tinker jumped down from his perch.

Tugging his waistcoat back into place, Tinker sighed, thinking about his ride into Blackville. They weren’t on the road yet, and he already was impatient to be back into his comfortable stable clothes. He had always enjoyed caring for the thoroughbreds, an interest he and his young master shared, but the idea of being coachman for White Oaks had never appealed to him. How he hated driving his masters from here to there in the hot summer’s sun, while he cooked to a crisp in the black oven white folks called proper attire.

The front door to the Big House made a creaking sound before Beauford Travis stepped on to the veranda. From where he stood, Beauford bellowed to Tinker, Why haven’t you gotten the blasted bags from inside the house yet? What’s wrong with you, boy? Do I have to spell everything out for you in painful detail?

Beau mopped his brow while he walked down the staircase. Behind his father’s back, James caught Tinker’s attention. Laughing quietly, he mimicked Beau’s displeasure. Tinker sighed and rolled his eyes.

After Beau was seated, James announced, I’m going to ride up front with Tink. James nodded his head in Tinker’s direction.

Nonsense! Get in here immediately. Beau looked disapprovingly at him. Now it was Tinker’s face that held the slightest indication of a smirk before he closed the door behind James.

James sank back into his seat thinking about what a long, long ride it would be to the train station with the man he called ‘Father’. The young man had lived all his life without Beau’s approval. For a long time, James had known the only commonality he and his father shared was the love for the soil over which the carriage wheels moved. Yet, even in their love for White Oaks there was a difference.

This will all be yours someday, Son, Beau had said proudly to him when he was a child accompanying his father on rounds.

Even then, with his child-like understanding, James already knew White Oaks was his, but not for the same reason it belonged to his father. To Beau, it meant prestige and pride in knowing it was through his own resourcefulness that he had built the Travis fortune. But to James, it meant a kinship to the rolling hills and the lush, green meadows sparkling with morning dew and the brilliant summer sunsets that would illuminate the evening sky with iridescent pinks and lavenders. It was his for the magical fields of cotton with their pink and white blossoms fluttering above waxy, green leaves. He had always known White Oaks was his to treasure, but it was only lately that James was beginning to realize he too must leave behind a heir for its preservation.

The cumbersome carriage slowly bumped and churned its way down the drive leading away from the Big House. Giant white oak trees lining the approach stood like silent sentries guarding the Travis tradition — a tradition whose roots, like the great white oaks, grew deeply in the soil. Under the shelter of the arching branches, the sun’s rays cast a patchwork pattern of light and shadow, which constantly changed with the fluttering leaves.

At the end of the towering trees, the carriage turned onto the road to Blackville. Glancing out the window, James gazed at the brilliant blue sky, speckled with sparrows swooping from one tree to another. From the road, the Travis plantation could be seen in its entirety. Clusters of small buildings around the Big House gave White Oaks the appearance of a small village.

In the first cotton field the carriage passed on its way to the Blackville Station, James saw a work-gang of their people hoeing weeds. Arched over their work, the naked backs of the men glistened with perspiration under the blazing sun. Women with brightly colored kerchiefs tied around their heads in a turban fastened with a tiny knot leaned forward. Their breasts unconfined under their loose blouses swayed freely with the movement of their hoeing. Steadily, the men and women inched down the long, monotonous rows that stretched endlessly into the horizon.

James, do you recall Claude DuBois? Beau’s voice broke the silence in the carriage. He reached into his frock coat pocket and removed a letter.

No, I can’t say as I do.

He came in from Charleston for your mother’s funeral. Don’t you remember? Beau looked annoyed at James.

Is he related to the DuBois that owned June Hill? James removed a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his forehead and the leather band inside his hat. James decided not to remind Beau he had been only eight and devastated when his mother died. The suffocating heat was enough to make the ride unpleasant without also having to endure an argument.

Yes. That was Claude’s brother. Since his brother’s death, he’s the sole owner. He wants to sell us this five hundred acre tract of prime cotton land here. Beau pointed out the window at the land belonging to June Hill that bordered White Oaks. We’ll be seeing him today when we arrive in Charleston. I want that purchase out of the way before we find some field hands at the auction tomorrow. Claude and I used to be the best of chums. Why, it seems like only yesterday. Beau recalled his youthful days when Claude and he were competing for Claire’s hand in marriage.

After Claire and Beau’s engagement, Claude left to study law at the University of South Carolina. Then, after graduation, he had moved to Charleston to set up his practice. Beau and he had drifted apart, with only an occasional letter now and then. It was good news to Beau that his old friend was moving back to June Hill. And besides that, the additional five hundred acres was quite the business deal. As long as he lived, Beau would pursue every opportunity to expand his empire. White Oaks was his life.

•

The train arrived in Charleston that afternoon. Charleston was the Athens of the South, just like its founding father, Lord Ashley Cooper, had intended it to be. It was a place where culture and aristocracy had blended and flourished. James and his father walked down the wide road that separated the homes and business establishments of Charleston’s merchants from the elevated promenade along the Cooper River. The sun’s rays made the muted pastel colors of the buildings sing with the music of life around them. Graceful porticos with wrought-iron railings embraced the buildings. Along the promenade, men and women strolled casually. The white sails of the ships on the Cooper River fluttered in the breeze. The smell of the sea teased at the senses, while off in the distance the sound of seagulls could be heard paying tribute to the day.

Beau directed James to a three-story, cream-colored structure with black shutters. He followed his father through a wrought iron gate with a sign that said, ‘Claude DuBois, Attorney-at-Law’. After walking down a short, brick path lined with flowers, they knocked on the front door. A young black girl answered and led them through a maze of wooden crates cluttering the hallway floor.

When the door to the law office opened, James could see Claude DuBois struggling to get up from his chair. Leaning heavily upon a cane, he walked slowly across the wooden floor to greet them. His full lips held a friendly smile of welcome. He had thick, bushy, gray sideburns and eyebrows that were just as wild and untamed. When he extended his gnarled and twisted fingers to Beau, James understood why Claude had difficulty walking across the room.

James was afraid to give Claude his usual firm handshake. By God! If he doesn’t favor Claire! Much too good-looking to take after you, you old dog. Claude held James’ hand and smiled, Your mother was an extraordinary woman.

Yes, Sir, she certainly was. James recalled the woman who had loved him unconditionally. He still missed her a great deal.

Claude motioned for them to sit down. Then he asked Molly, the young servant who had answered the door, to fetch lemonade for his visitors. Claude’s vacant law office told his story. Dust outlined the places where books once stood on the shelves. Wooden crates filled to capacity waited to be nailed shut.

I guess you can tell by the look of things I’m closing shop. I can’t keep up this demanding pace any longer. I’m in a great deal of pain most of the time. Claude rubbed his hands together. I sold out to my son-in-law. He’s young and ambitious. More able than I am to manage the clientele. They’ll be moving in next week. I’m taking my wife, Vanessa, and my younger daughter back to June Hill. It will be a real pleasure to be home again. I’m not a planter, never liked it. Claude lied, for that had not been the real reason he had left June Hill so long ago. It was in my brother’s blood and yours, not mine. That’s why I want to sell the land I wrote you about. So, I take it you’ve reached a decision.

Indeed. James watched his father’s face. It held the look of shrewdness that always accompanied his business deals. How can I turn down such an offer? Isn’t that so, James?

James looked surprised, then quickly nodded his head in agreement. Beau hadn’t mentioned anything about the deal until today and then hadn’t discussed price. When Beau had given him a gold pocket watch on his twenty-first birthday, two months before, he had told James they would be partners. However, decisions were still made exclusively by Beau. He wondered why his father pretended he was part of this decision.

Well, then, I took the liberty of drawing up the papers hoping you would be agreeable. Claude reached into the top drawer of his desk. He laid the contract of sale in front of Beau. After Beau read the papers, he handed them to James.

My son’s a lawyer. Attended Princeton.

Very impressive. Claude smiled at James.

James smiled back weakly, wishing his father had gotten his money’s worth by sending him to Princeton. Just when James began to read the document, the sound of breaking china and a shrill cry came from the second-story living quarters.

Upstairs, Claude’s eldest daughter, Melinda, watched her mother and younger sister hover over Molly, who was picking up pieces of the china tea service. They had Molly in tears with their continual nagging over her clumsiness. Melinda knelt down beside the lanky girl to assist with the clean up.

Honestly, Melinda, Jessica sighed. How on earth will she ever learn if you come to her aid every time?

Melinda lightly shook her head, Oh, I don’t know. How do you think she will learn? You and mother treat her like a worm, ready to gobble her up like two cackling hens, any time she does anything wrong. You all make her so nervous! Vanessa and Jessica gasped to hear such words coming from Melinda’s mouth.

Humph! Jessica pouted and put her hands on her hips. You’re so disrespectful to Mother. I’m telling Papa on you. Papa! Papa!! She raced towards the staircase leading downstairs. Claude hobbled to the outer chamber, followed by James and Beau. The three men looked up the stairs.

James stared wide-eyed in disbelief. His eyes never left Jessica while she ran down the stairs. The six yards of her pale green afternoon frock filled the stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs, she stood in front of the window. The setting sun danced on her auburn hair making it glow like burning embers. Her features were exquisite, as though a skilled sculptor had chiseled them out of fine alabaster. She was the most angelic-looking creature James had ever seen in his entire life. His heart pounded wildly when her sparkling emerald eyes met his. It seemed as though, for a split second, his heart stood perfectly still.

Oh, Papa, there you are. I didn’t know you were still seeing clients, she said in a soft voice, not willing to say what she had planned to tell her father in front of strangers.

Yes, dear, what is it? Claude noticed she still held James’ stare. Jessica, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Beauford Travis and his son James. They are the proprietors of White Oaks, the plantation next to June Hill.

Charmed, I’m sure, gentlemen, she said with the reassuring look of a woman who knows what response her beauty summons in men. She raised her hand, first to Beau then to James.

Now, what on earth is it, my dear? Claude was amused by the look on James’ face.

Mother wants you in the dining room. Molly’s had a tragic accident with the china. When she sighed deeply, James struggled not to watch her breasts rising and falling within her bodice.

Tell your mother we’ll join her momentarily. I’m sure Molly can clean up broken dishes without my encouragement. One more thing, tell your mother we’ll be having guests tonight for dinner and have Molly ready two rooms. I won’t have my old friend and his son staying in a hotel.

Until later, gentlemen. Jessica smiled sweetly. James watched her climb the stairs. He lingered there for a moment until he heard Claude say, Shall we get back to business?

James followed his father and Claude into the office. He picked up the papers from where he had tossed them on the desk. Although his eyes skimmed the words of the agreement of sale, the mental image he saw was that of Claude DuBois’ lovely daughter. When he was done reading, he realized he hadn’t retained a thing and forced himself to read it again, keeping his mind on business. When he was done, he handed the papers back to his father. While Beau and Claude discussed the sale, James leaned back in his chair, thinking how incredibly lucky he had become. By this time next week, Jessica would be within his reach, just a mile and a half away. A smile came to his face when he thought how envious his chums would be when they saw her on his arm.

What do you say, James?

Excuse me? James looked up, Beau’s words rudely interrupting his daydream.

I said, Beau paused and glared at him, thinking about what a waste of time it was to pretend his son would have anything of value to offer. How does it look to you?

Most equitable indeed, James replied hoping his father had been talking about the agreement of sale and not some other issue. While Beau and Claude talked business, James’ mind trailed back to Jessica until Claude took the bank note from Beau and said, Excellent, now shall we go upstairs?

When they moved from Claude’s office into the outer chamber, they found a thin, young man in the doorway struggling with a crate of books. James walked over to hold the door. When the young man nodded his appreciation to James, it was only after a stare glided down a pointy nose a bit too small for his face. His icy, green eyes reminded James of the frigid waters of Princeton University’s Stoney Brook on a January morning.

Claude introduced the young man as his son-in-law, Jefferson Benet. When he limply shook James’ hand, it seemed like someone had just flopped a dead catfish in his palm.

Where’s my daughter? You did bring her, didn’t you? I should like for her to meet my old friend and his son.

Yes, Melinda’s been here for quite some time. I told her to go upstairs when we first arrived. You appeared busy. I told her not to bother you. Then I went to fetch these books.

May I be of some assistance? James inquired, trying to be friendly.

Don’t you think I can manage them myself? Jefferson snapped indignantly.

James looked at his slight build. No. I mean, yes. I mean, I just thought you might like some help. Once he was inside the office, James turned to Claude and whispered, Must have got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

He does every morning, Claude whispered back to James and winked as if they had been friends forever.

The upstairs living quarters were spacious and elegant. In the drawing room, Jessica and two other women stood by the piano arranging flowers in a vase. Jessica whispered to her sister, Papa says you need to apologize to me.

My apologies to you both. I don’t know what has come over me lately.

It’s your condition. Melinda’s mother was certain. I was quite the bear when I was with child.

How does it feel to be with child? Jessica inquired with a disapproving glance at Melinda’s belly.

For the first time in a long while, Melinda smiled effortlessly. If there was anything which eased her tiresome existence with Jefferson, it was the wonderment of the life growing within her. Despite the fact that I tire easily, I’ve never felt so wonderful in my entire life. Actually, it is quite lovely. Melinda beamed. There was truly something serene about the experience of life renewing itself.

Pish posh! Impossible! Jessica raised her chin with an air of arrogance. How could you possibly feel wonderful? You’re as big as a barn.

Melinda stared at Jessica’s narrow waist then looked to her mother for support. However, Vanessa agreed, I don’t know either. When I was with child it had to be the most miserable ordeal of my life. Vanessa looked towards Melinda and said, Especially with you, dear. My, how you kicked. It was absolutely painful. Vanessa clasped her hands to her chest, Speaking of pain, the labor of bringing you into this world was horrendous. Vanessa went on for another two minutes in vivid detail, describing the struggle of giving birth. Melinda noticed Jessica looking peaked. Not to mention the fact I still haven’t regained my figure.

Jessica’s face blanched. Melinda rolled her eyes. God forbid her Mother would admit it was the pastries she fancied so much that kept her plump. Melinda considered being a little larger would be well worth the chance to experience the purest love life has to offer. She had seen that love shining in the eyes of many new mothers, even if her own mother’s eyes lacked such a luster for her.

When the men entered the room, James tried hard to keep his mind on the conversation his father and Claude were having, but couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to where Jessica stood arranging flowers in the vase. At the far end of the room, James could see a portrait of a beautiful young woman hanging above the fireplace. He decided it must be a portrait of Mrs. DuBois when she was younger. There was no doubt in his mind where Jessica had gotten her exquisite looks.

When Claude and Beau were done talking, Claude brought them over to the piano to meet his family. During the introductions, Vanessa smiled flirtatiously at Beau. She was still very much like the young girl whose image was captured in the portrait hanging over the fireplace. It was obvious to James that she enjoyed his father’s attention. Beau was still a very dashingly handsome man.

Although James thought Melinda was attractive in a wholesome way, she didn’t posses the same flamboyant beauty as her sister and mother. At the same time, Melinda saw that James was a sturdily built young man of medium height about her age. He had friendly brown eyes and a catching smile. She also noticed James’ interest in her sister during the introductions.

The sound of Jefferson’s footsteps climbing the stairs caught Melinda’s attention. Jefferson strolled into the drawing room, seemingly more upset than he had been that morning during their carriage ride to her parent’s home. His eyes squinted in disgust while he stared across the room. When Melinda saw that Jefferson was not looking at her, she traced his stare to the young, handsome stranger, who was intently watching her sister’s every move.

Excuse me, Papa, Jessica interrupted their conversation. I told Molly to bring up some wine from the cellar. I hope that will be all right.

Jessica, not with Jefferson here, Melinda pleaded quietly.

Now, Melinda, You’re husband is not the only guest here tonight, Claude whispered. Jessica secretly smiled defiantly at her sister. A frown appeared on Melinda’s face.

Jessica moved over to James’ side when Jefferson joined the group. She stood very close to him and whispered, I’m so glad you’re able to join us tonight, Mr. Travis.

James bent down to whisper back to her, It is truly my pleasure, Miss Jessica. In all his life, he had never been so taken by any female as he was with the girl who rested her hand ever so lightly on his arm. Jefferson’s eyes fell to Jessica’s hand. He darted another disapproving look at James.

Vanessa invited everyone to sit down by the fireplace. When they were seated, Molly entered, carrying wine and glasses on a tray. The glasses clanked together while she lowered the heavy tray to the table. While Molly fumbled wildly with the bottle and corkscrew, several glasses tipped over, fortunately for Molly, not breaking.

James, seeing Molly’s dilemma, walked across the room. Taking the bottle out of Molly’s hand, James smiled. Let me get this for you.

By the time Molly’s trembling hands set the glasses upright, the sound of the popping cork filled the room. When James returned to his seat, Jessica said, with a flirtatious smile, That certainly was quick, Mr. Travis.

Indubitably you’ve had a lot of practice, Jefferson commented to James, loud enough for him and the sisters to hear. Melinda frowned again.

James darted a puzzled look at him. Actually, if the truth be known, consuming alcohol may have been the only thing he had become accomplished at while attending Princeton University. With a smirk of irony, he quietly replied, You’re quite right, Mr. Benet, a great deal. Jessica giggled. Melinda’s nervous look grew more intense.

Please, Jefferson, Melinda’s eyes seemed to plead.

Across the room, Claude stood and cleared his throat. I’d like to propose a toast to old friends. He raised his glass. May the miles not keep us apart any longer.

During the conversation that followed, James sat quietly. His eyes wandered from person to person, but lingered on Jessica, who returned his gaze. The relaxing effect of the wine was beginning to take hold. He hadn’t been drinking very much since his return from Princeton. When the dinner was announced, Vanessa seated Jessica next to James. When he looked at her, he thought she looked even more beautiful in the flickering candlelight.

Jefferson, dear, will you say the blessing? Vanessa inquired.

Certainly, I’d be glad to oblige. When Jefferson closed his eyes to pray, a pious look swept over his face and his eyelids began to flutter slightly. His prayer grew into a short sermon, covering everything from original sin to redemption. James looked up at him and sighed quietly. He shook his head in disbelief, wondering if Jefferson’s prayer was intended for his benefit. Before he bowed his head again, he stole a look at Jessica. When he did, he noticed she had been looking at him, too. They smiled at each other and then bowed their heads just before Jefferson breathed Amen.

Shrimp cooked in a spicy sauce served over rice was a pleasant change from the ham and chicken served so frequently at White Oaks. The bread was hot and fresh and the wine excellent. His father and Claude continued to speak of old times in Barnwell County, until Beau said, Are you going to miss Charleston, Mrs. DuBois?

I wish you hadn’t brought that up. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned against Beau’s arm. A little wine always left her feeling a bit more of a seductress than usual. I have been disheartened just thinking about it, ever since Claude told me we were leaving. I just can’t imagine life way out there in total isolation. After all, I was born and raised in Charleston.

I’m sure you’ll get used to it, darling, Claude sighed, remembering the battle it had been to get Vanessa to agree to such a move.

Perhaps I will, but what about our daughter? Jessica’s life is just beginning and you’ve exiled her from everything Charleston has to offer a young lady.

I’m sure Barnwell County isn’t completely void of social life, Mother. Isn’t that so, James? Melinda asked in a weary voice, gathering another mouthful on her fork.

That’s very true. Someone is always having a barbecue or a ball. When my mother was alive, our ballroom was always busy.

You have a ballroom? Jessica’s eyes lit up. I just love to dance.

James recalled how the north wing of the big house had always hummed with activity. His mother had loved to dance, also. He could remember the grand balls that had taken place there. It seemed like a million years ago when the planters from Barnwell County and beyond would line the drive with their carriages. Now the room remained very still, haunted only by memories of her.

Tell me, James, what else is there to do out there? Jessica asked.

Do you enjoy horseback riding? James looked into her sparkling green eyes.

Why, I’ve never ridden before, not in my entire life. I am a city girl, you know. But, perhaps I would. That is, if I had someone to teach me. Her words hung like a worm on a hook.

With your father’s permission, I’d be happy to give you as many lessons as it takes. James swallowed the worm, hook, line and sinker.

Oh, Papa, please say yes. Say yes, please. Her words tumbled out with the carelessness of a child. I thought I’d miss Charleston, but the more I hear about Barnwell County, the more anxious I am to get there. Oh, please, please say yes.

Well, I don’t know why not, Claude said, freed from the guilt of isolating his daughter from society.

Do you have many horses at White Oaks? Jessica leaned enthusiastically towards James. Jefferson’s fork clanked loudly on his plate, his lips pressed tightly together.

We breed thoroughbreds for racing. That’s something else we have near Barnwell County. Did I say there’s a track at Aiken? Actually, we have several excellent animals. There’s one mare in particular that would be perfect for you to ride. Her name is Lady Shane. I’ve just bred her to The Baron. She’s a real gentle sorrel.

What’s The Baron? Jessica picked the right question to ask.

He’s my preference in mounts, James said excitedly. I’ve trained him myself. I guess that’s why he’s a one-man horse. Most folks who go near him think he’s too high-spirited.

He is too high-spirited. You ought to geld him before he hurts someone.

James looked at his father as though Beau had requested James be gelded himself. I’ve always found him to be trustworthy. James replied, in The Baron’s defense. We understand and respect each other. He just doesn’t give his allegiance away freely. You have to earn it.

You speak as though this beast were human, Jefferson said dully.

If loyalty and allegiance are only human qualities, then I suppose The Baron is more human than a lot of people I know. I’ve clocked him, and he can do one and a half miles in just two minutes and fifty seconds. And that’s carrying about sixty pounds more than he would at the track in Aiken.

If you can find a jockey to ride him, Beau added.

The track? Jefferson challenged, lowering his water glass to the table. Don’t you think horse racing is a sin?

A sin? James made a hissing sound through his teeth and laughed, Only if you lose. Jessica giggled and Jefferson darted a disapproving look at her.

What about the sanctuary? Where do you go to church in Barnwell County, Mr. Travis?

I don’t go to church. James watched Jefferson’s reaction over the wineglass he held to his mouth to conceal a smile. Jefferson gasped and looked as though he had just received a sharp blow.

Please, dear, Melinda pleaded quietly.

You mean you don’t believe in the saving grace of Christ?

No, actually, Christianity is an excellent concept. It’s just its followers that make it a paradox. I have met very few whose actions didn’t contradict their philosophy. Beau nudged James under the table.

Vanessa cleared her throat, Would anyone care for anything else?

No, Beau said. I think we’re quite finished, aren’t we, James?

Well, then, if we’re all done, shall we retire to the drawing room so the gentlemen can enjoy some brandy?

James pulled back Jessica’s chair. She thanked him sweetly and took his arm. James escorted her to a loveseat in the drawing room. Jefferson quickly sat Melinda next to her.

It had been a long day, and James was tired. However, his father and Claude were still engaged in conversation. He convinced himself