Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01]

by A Tapestry of Hope

  Bradley watched as the two men walked out of the room.

  There was little doubt they had intentionally escaped his presence.

  Each time he approached a group of members, they stepped aside.

  His walk through the room resembled Moses parting the Red Sea.

  When the meeting was called to order, Bradley found himself sitting alone. Although he was surrounded by empty chairs, several men stood in the back of the room rather than take a seat beside him. It was abundantly clear that he had committed an offense.

  When Nathan took charge of the meeting, Bradley knew his behavior would be the topic of this evening’s meeting. Matthew never handled matters dealing directly with an individual Associate. ‘‘We need to have some important questions answered this evening—questions that are affecting the business and our profits.

  I believe you’re the person to give us the answers we need, Bradley.’’ Bradley’s muscles tightened into a knot. He gave what he hoped was a nonchalant nod.

  ‘‘Cotton deliveries have diminished considerably. You’ve given no explanation for the reduction, though you surely must have realized this decrease would be of grave concern to all of us. I am at a loss as to why you’ve not brought this matter to someone’s attention.’’ Nathan paused for a moment. ‘‘Would you care to explain?’’

  The hairs on the back of Bradley’s neck stiffened as the members directed their attention to him. He needed time to formulate an answer. He didn’t even realize shipments had decreased. Why hadn’t Malcolm notified him if there was a problem? His mind was racing. He thought of the letters that lay unopened on his desk, letters from his father-in-law that he’d pushed aside because his thoughts were centered upon Jasmine and Kiara—not upon business. Jasmine! She would be his explanation.

  ‘‘I don’t know if you are aware, but my wife has experienced great difficulty with her health over the last several months. She’s been confined to her bed, and my time has been devoted to her care. Although I’ve had hired help with her, it’s me whom she desires by her bedside. And what husband can turn away from his wife in her time of need? I pray your indulgence, gentlemen. If you had come to me previously, I would have forced myself back to work. I didn’t realize the shipments had slowed and will check my latest correspondence for any answer I can find from our Southern growers.’’

  ‘‘You can hardly fault a man for taking time to care for his ill wife,’’ Henry Thorne said. ‘‘Bradley is correct that none of us spoke to him. We had an obligation to call this matter to his attention before it spiraled into such a severe decline. Communication is the key, gentlemen, and it must go both directions.’’

  Bradley wanted to jump up from his chair and shout his thanks to Henry. Instead, he was the model of restraint and self-deprecation. ‘‘Thank you, Henry, but even with the heartrending circumstances that have created a pall of sadness over my household, I should have been alert to my business obligations. What I’ve done is inexcusable, and I can’t expect your forgiveness when my ineffectiveness has adversely impacted the business.’’

  ‘‘None of us is immune from such events occurring in our own lives,’’ another member agreed. ‘‘I can’t fault a man for unbearable worry over his wife and unborn child.’’

  Since the winds were blowing favorably in Bradley’s direction, he decided it might bode well for him to add a few morsels of information in order to redirect the conversation away from himself. ‘‘I can share that shortly before my wife was forced to take to her bed, my father-in-law had reported many of the plantations were beginning to experience difficulties with their slaves due to the increasing abolition movement. However, he thought the problem would soon be under control.’’

  ‘‘We must hold fast to our beliefs, gentlemen,’’ another member admonished. ‘‘We can quietly assume a position against the expansion of slavery into other states, but we must be careful not to alienate our Southern suppliers. We need their cotton, and if it takes slave labor to meet our needs, so be it.’’

  The men argued the issues of tariffs, slaves, and strikes within the mills while Bradley’s mind skittered back to the unopened letters from Malcolm Wainwright. He wondered if those letters would reveal the answers his fellow Associates were seeking. After several hours had passed, he could abide the suspense no longer.

  When a brief pause in the discussion occurred, he stood. ‘‘If I could be so bold as to beg your indulgence one more time, gentlemen, I have several matters of business that I wish to complete this evening. If I am able to do so, I will return to Lowell tomorrow morning to be at my wife’s bedside.’’

  ‘‘Of course, Bradley,’’ Nathan responded. The remainder of the assembled group murmured their assent, while several men offered words of encouragement for his wife’s speedy recovery as he was making his way out of the room. He took a deep breath of fresh air, momentarily marveling he’d been able to survive the meeting without receiving threats of an ouster from his position within the prestigious group. No doubt he would have to set matters aright in short order. He hurried back to the hotel. Malcolm’s letters were in his satchel of business papers and would likely shed light on the decreased shipments.

  ‘‘Bradley!’’

  Scanning the hotel foyer, Bradley saw his brother striding toward him. ‘‘Nolan. How are you?’’ he asked, continuing to move toward the hotel staircase.

  ‘‘I’m fine. What an unexpected surprise to see you. Come join me for a glass of port.’’

  ‘‘I’d like to, but I’ve several matters needing my immediate attention. Perhaps some other time.’’

  ‘‘Is Jasmine faring any better? I’m hoping to visit within the week. From the tone of her last letter, she seemed to be enjoying the little Irish girl’s company.’’

  Bradley stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother.

  ‘‘Jasmine has written you?’’

  ‘‘We correspond on occasion. Why does that surprise you?

  After all, I spent a great deal of time with Jasmine and

  Mrs.Wainwright when we journeyed to Mississippi. Jasmine even sends me an occasional poetic offering for evaluation. At the same time, she usually informs me of what’s happening in Lowell and adds a bit of personal information regarding the two of you. Why, if I had to depend upon you, I wouldn’t even know of the impending birth of your child.’’

  ‘‘You know I’ve never been one to discuss personal matters.’’

  Nolan laughed and slapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘‘I don’t think you’d be considered too much the gossipmonger if you revealed to your own brother that he was going to become an uncle. With your consuming desire for an heir, I didn’t expect there would be anything that could entice you away from Lowell until after the baby’s birth.’’

  Bradley continued edging toward the stairway. ‘‘Urgent meeting of the Associates. I have some matters to conclude yet this evening, then I’ll be returning to Lowell first thing in the morning— which is exactly why I cannot join you for a glass of port and further conversation.’’

  ‘‘Of course. I don’t want to detain you. Give my regards to Jasmine and tell her I hope to see her soon.’’

  ‘‘Yes, of course,’’ he said, taking the steps two at a time. He slipped his key in the lock, and by the flickering light of an oil lamp, slit open the first of two letters from Malcolm. Thumbing through the pages, he scanned the letter until his gaze settled upon words that sent a chill rippling down his spine. He began to read aloud: ‘‘We have received devastating rains in this part of Mississippi, and they could not have come at a worse time. Just as we were preparing to begin our first harvest, the rains came. Consequently we are suffering from boll rot, and our shipments will be reduced throughout the next month. Please advise how we may assist you with this problem. The possibility exists to seek help from other growers in Louisiana and Alabama, as their crops did not suffer from the heavy rains. We anticipate our crop will return to normal for our later shipments, as
the remainder of our crop was planted at a later date.’’

  Bradley threw aside the missive and opened the second. His breath caught in his throat. When he thought the news could be no worse, he read Malcolm’s final paragraph: ‘‘I will be in Lowell for a visit and hope to lend assistance wherever needed and of whatever nature upon my arrival.’’

  Bradley read the paragraph more slowly and began mentally calculating the length of Malcolm’s voyage. His father-in-law would arrive within the week, and it appeared he was planning a somewhat extended visit. This unexpected intrusion was yet another vexing tribulation he must resolve. Not that Bradley feared his ability to handle his father-in-law, but he preferred such matters be on his own terms. However, Malcolm had taken matters into his own hands, and now Bradley had little time to prepare. He folded the letter and placed it in his satchel. ‘‘You may be coming for a visit, Malcolm, but you’ll be returning home quickly,’’ he muttered.

  CHAPTER • 26

  JASMINE HEARD the heavy footsteps on the stairway and knew Bradley had returned home. His eyes burned with expectation as he searched her face for a clue. She hadn’t seen him appear so excited since their vows had been sealed. ‘‘Our son has arrived!’’ Her voice bubbled with delight as she expectantly awaited his reaction.

  ‘‘A boy!’’ Bradley exclaimed. ‘‘But of course I knew I would have a son.’’

  ‘‘Of course. The wee babe would be feared of comin’ into the world any other way,’’ Kiara muttered.

  ‘‘Did you say something, Kiara?’’ Jasmine inquired.

  ‘‘Just commentin’ on the beauty of the child, ma’am. Lucky he is to be lookin’ like you.’’

  Bradley shot a glowering look in Kiara’s direction. ‘‘Bring my son to me.’’

  Kiara did as she was ordered and lifted the infant from where he slept. Bradley formed his arm into a large semicircle to receive the child. She looked heavenward and shook her head back and forth. ‘‘Push yar arm in. The babe will fall to the floor if ya keep yar arm spread open like that.’’ She pushed Bradley’s arm closer to his body, forcing it into a cradling position before settling the baby into his arm.

  Bradley stared down at the child and then looked back and forth between the two women in the room. ‘‘His name is Spencer, and I believe he looks like me.’’ His gaze settled on Kiara. ‘‘I’m certain Jasmine no longer needs your continued assistance. I’ll have your cot removed from her room later today.’’

  ‘‘I don’t believe that’s a good idea just yet,’’ Alice said as she entered the bedroom. ‘‘Jasmine remains quite weak, and it won’t hurt to have Kiara close at hand to help with the baby.’’

  ‘‘Grandmother Wainwright. I didn’t know you had arrived,’’ Bradley said.

  ‘‘I wouldn’t have missed this event for anything. I left home only moments after the doctor arrived to deliver the baby and haven’t departed since. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here for the birth, Bradley. It would have been comforting to Jasmine had you been home for the birth of your first child.’’

  Bradley handed the infant back to Kiara and turned his attention toward his wife. ‘‘The baby was not expected for another two weeks, and Jasmine completely understands the rigors of my business. I hurried home as quickly as I could. You understand, don’t you, my dear?’’ Without waiting for an answer, he continued. ‘‘I have a bit of good news to share with both of you, one you will both be pleased to receive. Malcolm will be arriving within the week, and I’m certain he’ll be surprised to learn of his grandson’s birth.’’

  ‘‘Really? How wonderful! When did you learn of Father’s arrival? He didn’t mention it when he last wrote—of course, that’s been some time ago.’’

  ‘‘I must admit he wrote some time ago and I mislaid the letter.

  Thankfully, I found it in my desk at the shipping office while I was in Boston, or his arrival would have taken us all by surprise.’’

  His laugh sounded hollow, and Jasmine thought she had noted a strain in Bradley’s voice when he announced her father was arriving. But perhaps it was the excitement of the baby’s early arrival. She wanted this to be a time of happiness and healing. A time when they could come together and form a closer union—if not for themselves, then for the baby.

  She smiled up at her husband. ‘‘Having Father here to see the baby will be joyous. I only wish Mother could make the voyage.’’

  Alice patted Jasmine’s arm and smiled. ‘‘Be thankful for at least this much, dear. I’m certain Bradley will be anxious to take you and the baby to Mississippi once Spencer is a little older.’’

  Jasmine clapped her hands. ‘‘Oh, Bradley, do you think we might do that? The baby might be just the thing to bring Mother out of her sad reverie.’’

  ‘‘I think it will take more than seeing a baby to bring your mother back to a state of reality,’’ Bradley absently replied.

  ‘‘That was uncalled for, Bradley,’’ voiced Alice. ‘‘Your wife is recuperating from childbirth, and she needs your encouragement, not a callous rejoinder.’’

  ‘‘We’ll consider a visit when Spencer is older.’’ He leaned down and brushed a kiss upon Jasmine’s cheek. ‘‘I must go downstairs and attend to business matters. I’ll come back up to see you later in the day.’’

  ‘‘Of course. I don’t expect you to spend all your time sitting here with us. I understand you must tend to business.’’

  The three women were silent until Bradley’s footsteps could be heard crossing the downstairs foyer. Alice closed the bedroom door and sat down beside Jasmine’s bed. ‘‘It appears your father saw the seriousness of matters and is finally going to make an appearance.

  I couldn’t be more pleased. His visit will be doubly blessed when he sees little Spencer.’’

  Jasmine smiled and squeezed her grandmother’s vein-lined hand. ‘‘You don’t think Father will make mention that you’ve written and requested he visit?’’

  ‘‘No, I warned him Bradley must not know we’ve interfered.

  And your father obviously has concerns of his own. I don’t think the plantation owners have been receiving prompt payments for their cotton.’’

  Kiara moved closer to Jasmine’s bedside and pointed back and forth between the two women. ‘‘Ya wrote to Mr. Wainwright and told ’im to come here to question Mr. Houston?’’

  Jasmine observed the disbelief—or was it fear?—in Kiara’s eyes.

  ‘‘Don’t worry. Having Father visit will be a good thing. Bradley has been terribly overworked throughout our marriage, and the stress appears to be taking its toll on him. Grandmother and I thought Father might be able to advise Bradley on how to relieve himself of some of his duties.’’

  ‘‘I do na think yar husband will be pleased if he should find out ya’ve interfered. He’s a proud man.’’

  ‘‘Don’t look so worried, Kiara. Father will be discreet in handling Bradley.’’

  ‘‘I hope so, ma’am. I do na want to see anyone suffer should Mr. Houston lose his temper.’’

  Alice gave Kiara an endearing smile. ‘‘You worry overly, my dear. I think what you need is some time to relax and enjoy yourself. You’ve been in this room around the clock for weeks. Why don’t you go and visit your friend Bregetta and—’’ ‘‘Bridgett,’’ Jasmine corrected.

  ‘‘Oh yes. Why don’t you visit your friend Bridgett, and I’ll look after Jasmine?’’

  Kiara checked the time. ‘‘She gets off work a little earlier on Saturdays.’’ There was a hesitation in her voice.

  ‘‘She should be home soon. If you leave now, the two of you could arrive at the Acre around the same time. Do go and have a time of relaxation,’’ Jasmine encouraged. ‘‘You’ve been with me constantly, and you need to get outside. A change of scenery will do you good.’’

  ‘‘I do na think Mr. Houston will be pleased should he find out I’ve gone.’’

  ‘‘No need for us to tell him. If he comes to the room, I’ll tell him I’
ve sent you on an errand.’’ Alice pulled several coins from her reticule. ‘‘Please stop by Paxton’s and pick up some additional thread. I don’t want you to have any excuse to quit making your lace.’’

  Kiara smiled and took the coins. ‘‘Ya’re also not wantin’ to tell a lie.’’

  Alice returned the smile. ‘‘That’s true. Now off with you and have a good time.’’

  Kiara peeked over the railing before tiptoeing down the stairs and could see the illumination of light beneath Bradley’s library door. She flattened herself against the wall and edged down the side of the hallway where the floorboards didn’t creak. Without a sound, she made her way into the kitchen.

  Before Sarah could offer a greeting, Kiara placed a finger to her lips and shook her head. She made her way to the table and whispered, ‘‘I do na want Mr. Houston to know I’m leavin’. Mrs.

  Houston and Mrs. Wainwright gave me permission to go into town, but ’tis better if he does na know.’’

  Sarah smiled. ‘‘Have a nice time,’’ she whispered back. ‘‘What should I tell Paddy if he comes looking for you?’’

  ‘‘Tell him I’ll come to the barn later but to say nothin’ to Mr. Houston.’’

  Kiara slipped out the door and was thankful for the cover of darkness. She half walked, half ran into town, deciding to stop at Paxton’s before going to the Acre. The final bell hadn’t rung and Bridgett wouldn’t yet be home. Besides, stopping now would save time on her return. She hastened down the aisle, picked up a bobbin, and walked to the counter at the front of the store.

  ‘‘I hear tell the Houstons have a fine baby boy.’’

  ‘‘Aye, that they do,’’ Kiara replied. ‘‘Both mother and babe doin’ fine.’’ The clanging of the final bell could be heard, announcing the day’s end for the mill workers.

  Mrs. Paxton greeted two customers as they entered the store, taking time to tell them of the store’s latest arrival of bonnets and gloves. Kiara wished she would hurry, for Bridgett would be home any minute.