Secrets of Windwood by Jack Reese

Author:Jack Reese
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cayelle Publishing LLC

CHAPTER 23

Origins

A few hours later, after they’d finished with the attic, Donna took the diary up to her room so she could be alone. She sat at the desk, flipped the lamp on, and placed a piping-hot cup of coffee in front of her.

She was afraid to open the book, for fear that the pages would fall apart. With a careful touch, she opened the diary and saw that it was written in her mother’s hand. She took a sip of coffee, then leaned back into the chair to learn all she could about the mother she adored.

***

In 1794, the day began like any other day at Windwood. The slaves were in the fields, the house slaves were buzzing about the mansion and Caleb Lord went for his ride at 6:45, as he had every day since he was old enough to ride. A pregnant Flora, and Solomon, as well as his sister Regina, had just sat down to breakfast in the dining room when one of the field slaves called Toby, came flying up the front flagstones, all flustered and out of breath, screaming for Solomon.

“Massa Solomon, it’s Mister Caleb. He’s been hurt real bad.” Toby bolted into the dining room.

Solomon pushed out his chair and stormed outside. Flora sobbed in her chair as Nessy and Porter fanned her, while Regina put a cold compress on her head.

“What happened?” Solomon said from the porch, when he saw overseer Burton carrying the limp body of his boy.

Blood poured out of the wound on the side of his head.

“I’m not quite sure, sir,” Burton replied. “I found him in the field after he had been thrown from his horse. He struck his head on a tree.”

Burton was an older man with a large scar down his face, and hands the size of cinder blocks, which he would use from time to time on the slaves. He was tall, dark, mean, and would take a bullet for Solomon.

“Hurry up and get him upstairs and into his bed.” Flora came up beside Solomon.

“He’s going to be fine, my dear,” Solomon said, to convince her, as well as himself.

Flora squeezed Solomon’s hand as she followed the men into the house. Then she doubled over and watched as her water broke all over the entrance hall floor.

“Solomon, the baby’s coming. Something’s wrong. It’s too early.” Flora wailed as she doubled over again.

This time, blood dripped from between her legs.

“Regina, help Nessy take Flora upstairs.”

Solomon took a deep breath and closed his eyes while trying hard to fight back the tears.

***

Flora’s screams echoed from the second-floor bedroom. Outside the master bedroom, Solomon paced as he waited for news on his wife’s condition. Regina sat patiently in a chair outside the door.

“Calm yourself, brother. I don’t know what’s getting to me more—Flora’s screaming, or your pacing.”

Minutes turned into hours, and by eight o’clock that night, Solomon’s grief overwhelmed him. Nessy brought out some jambalaya, cornbread, and mint julep on a tray. Solomon jumped up, yelled, and sent the tray flying into the wall before storming off.

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