World of de Wolfe Pack: Reflections of Love (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Autumn Sand

Author:Autumn Sand [Sand, Autumn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2018-01-23T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I whip the car into park in the municipal garage so fast that Dawn holds on to the handle above the door in order not to fall over. I’m out of the car and marching toward the exit before she has a chance to unbuckle her seatbelt. The soft pads of her footsteps quickly follow behind me.

“Evan, what’s the rush?” she pants as she tries to keep pace with me. Willa stayed behind at the house to keep “sageing.”

“I want to do some research before I speak to her again.” The words tumble out of my mouth, without much thought or reason to them. I’m a man with a dogged determination at the moment, and conversation doesn’t fit into what I need to do.

“But.” Pant. “I thought.” Pant. “She said.” Pant. “It might be.” Pant. “A few days or something.” Pant.

I stop suddenly and spin around to face her. “That’s it!” I grab her arm and run toward the South Carolina Historical Society’s building.

“That’s what?” she screams, as we dodge oncoming traffic.

“It. That’s it!” I yank the doors open with Dawn in tow, startling the woman sitting behind the reception desk. Dawn yanks her arm from my clasp; I release easily because I have already moved on in my thoughts.

“May I help you?” The woman takes in our appearance, and I’m pretty sure we look the sight to be seen at the moment. Me, with red-rimmed, sleep-deprived eyes and a day-old beard; Dawn, disheveled from me dragging her around Charleston.

I open my mouth to ask her about information on the De Wolfe Plantation when my eyes settle on the portrait behind her. She turns her head to the portrait, then back to me.

“Lovely painting, isn’t it?”

My mouth is agape as I stare at it, being sandblasted back to my conversation with a woman from one-hundred and fifty-eight years ago. “Who, ummm…”

“That is Franny. She was once a slave at the De Wolfe Plantation. “

She’s wearing the exact outfit I saw her in; the eyes, the birthmark on her cheek, everything. Her breasts are fuller than her image in the mirror, but I’m sure that is just artist interpretation.

Dawn gasps. “She’s beautiful.”

“Why yes, she was. We hear tell that she was one of the loveliest creatures in these here parts.” She smiles. “I’m Jenn, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Jenn. I’m Evan, and this is my sister-in-law, Dawn. Do you know the story behind the painting?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off the image in front of me.

“Why yes. The painting was done by one of America’s most renowned artists, Henri LaSalle. His foundation donated the work to us,” she says proudly.

“Yes, but normally slaves wouldn’t have portraits done of them. How did this come to be?”

She nods her understanding. “Well, this is strictly folklore, but the story goes that he fell in love with her from the moment he saw her. He was a permanent guest of the De Wolfes, and rumored to have been Enid De Wolfe’s lover.

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