Saving Grace (The Grace Series Book 2) (28 page)

“Jonny cares too much to do this type of work,” Ditter interjected. “He was very good at it, but it wasn’t easy for him.”

“There are few better men alive,” Ruth remarked. “There is no other I admire as much.”

“Remember when I dropped the plates?” Martha asked. “I did that on purpose. And he didn’t bruise my arm, Miss Jessica. He is such a wonderful, wonderful man.”

“He saved my life many times,” Herlin murmured. “He protected me when I did foolish things. I will never forget him.”

Jessica listened to Herlin’s fading voice, and she watched him blink rapidly to control the mist in his eyes. She said, “You were always defending him and I never understood why.”

Because Herlin was too choked up to reply, Martha spoke for him. “None of us wanted to see your relationship fall apart.” Poignantly, she added, “Miss Jessica, he loves you so.”

One by one Jessica looked at them. “Do you think it would be alright for me to visit with him? Do you think the general will allow it?”

“Don’t worry about the general,” Ditter said. “I think Jonny would be very pleased to have your company. If you don’t mind going to him, I think it would be the best thing for him.”

 

* * *

 

The major slept often. When he was awake it was for a few hours at a time at most. While she was with him, Jessica tried to be conscious of endurance. If his stuttering increased or his breathing became heavier, or if he suffered through a particularly difficult episode of choking, she suggested he rest. Usually he agreed and she left him to seek out Herlin, Ditter or the general to help him to his bed. Over the next two days, an hour here and an hour there, became their pattern.

During her first visit, right after learning what she had from Martha, Herlin, Ruth and Ditter, very little was said other than Jessica thanking him repeatedly. She played the piano for him because he asked her to. That evening she played for him again, and afterwards what little conversation they had was stilted.

The next morning, however, was much better. He asked about her father, Trent and Emily and seemed generally concerned for their wellbeing. His questions prompted her own, and Jessica found herself captivated as she listened to him speak of his family.

He described his brothers to her. Etienne was two years younger than he. Adrien was next, four years behind Etienne, and Leon was the baby of the family. As he went on, Jessica discovered most of the things he’d divulged to her about himself previously were true, just twisted somewhat, such as the horse farm he described as a place he spent much of his childhood, belonged to his family, not to a neighbor. He told her his family had a comfortable living, their farm did well, but they never considered themselves wealthy, and they never owned slaves. From the time they were old enough, the major and his brothers helped their parents with the work.

On another visit, he spoke of his mother—his beloved
Maman
. With the exception of the lie about her passing, everything he’d told Jessica about her was true. He also talked about his brilliant father, who died during the war. Jessica was deeply touched and awed by the high regard in which he held both of his parents. It felt good, and somehow comforting, to know these things about him.

But, no matter how often or how long she stayed with him, he never once mentioned what happened between them. He didn’t speak of his role, the spook, Sebastian, or anything else related to what he came to Tennessee to do. Jessica didn’t bring it up either, not because she didn’t want to. She did want to, but she was afraid. This was primarily because she didn’t want to upset him. She didn’t want to incite the general’s anger either.

That intimidating man seemed to always be hovering. While he was never really rude, he wasn’t amiable either. When she was with the major, he stopped in regularly to check on them. When she meandered through the grounds and through the house, he followed at a distance. It was at meals, however, that he seemed to scrutinize her the most. He insisted on joining her for every one, even when she tried to avoid him by eating in the kitchen.

Regardless of where they were, his cold, black-eyed stare made her so uncomfortable she couldn’t look at him. The only time she did was when they were together in the parlor with the major. It was then, while his attention was on the major, that it was her turn to study him. To say that the unfeeling, stoic general didn’t have any soft spots in his heart would have been a lie. He had one. It was for ‘Jonny.’

Jessica’s only other problem with respect to the major was that she couldn’t bring herself to say his name. ‘Jonny’ was the general’s name for him. Others called him Jonny, too, but the moniker felt wrong to her. She didn’t think the major would care if she called him Julien, but she couldn’t say that name either. When she tried to make sense of her awkward sentiments, the only explanation she could come up with was, if she used his given name, he would be more real to her. For some reason, one she couldn’t define, she wasn’t ready for that.

By the afternoon of the second day, Ditter had reinstated the servants. The stable at Grace Manor was still under construction, and the pasture fencing wasn’t completed, but with all of them there to help, it wouldn’t take long to get everything in order. Jessica spoke with each of them, telling them how pleased she was to see them. There were plenty of hugs with the children, too, and she promised they would begin school again soon.

While speaking with Wally, she asked him how much he’d been paid at Bent Oak Manor. His answer confirmed what she’d already surmised. The paper she’d found in the study with salary figures meant nothing.

That same afternoon, when Herlin informed Jessica the major was ready for company, she didn’t go into the parlor alone. Willy and Jacob came with her. Willy wanted to play the piano for him and Jacob brought a book along. Despite the discomfort it caused him, the major made valiant efforts to clap after each piece Willy played. When Jacob stumbled over the difficult words in his book, the major patiently and suggestively whispered the correct pronunciation for him. Watching him with the boys, listening to his praise and encouragement, thrilled Jessica in ways she couldn’t describe. And the boys appeared as enthralled as she was. When it was time for them to leave, Ruth and Martha had to practically drag them from the room.

Just before dinner, that same day, Jessica wandered out to the front porch and sat on the step. The guards were there, as always, but rather than being right by the stairs they were farther down the drive. It was a beautiful day with only a few clouds in the sky. As she sat there, taking it in, she was reminded of the silly guessing game the major made up to ease her nervousness when he began courting her.

He was supposed to come up with the reason she was thinking of the color blue. “You wish there were less clouds in the sky?” he guessed. He went on from there saying all sorts of outlandish things. “You wish your cow would turn blue? You wish I was wearing bright blue boots? You wish butterflies had blue bodies?” Oh, how he’d made her laugh! His last guess was, “You wish a bluebird would land on my head?”

Jessica closed her eyes. It was hard not to weep.

The sound of an approaching horse made her look up. The animal was a huge, chestnut mare. Its rider, a dark-haired man, was in military dress. Jessica’s breath caught. From the distance, he looked identical to the major!

She stood up, and watched as the soldiers moved to intercept him. He kept coming, although he slowed his horse considerably. Even so, the closer he drew, the better Jessica could see he was not the major. He dismounted, said something to the soldiers and then handed them identification papers from his pocket. It didn’t take long for the soldier who examined them to return them to him. He tucked them away, left his horse in their care and strode toward the house. His slow gait gave Jessica the impression he was reluctant to be there. She knew too, that he noticed her, but he didn’t say anything until he was at the foot of the porch steps.

Squinting into the sun, he looked up and nodded. “Ma’am. I am looking for General Seth McLean. I understand he is inside?”

He had a deep southern drawl with a hint of French in the accent. When Jessica first met the major she’d thought he sounded like he was from Louisiana. This man did, too. And it occurred to her, if her eyes had been closed, she could have easily mistaken their voices.

“Yes, the general is here. Please come in,” she said.

He came up the steps. With him beside her, she realized he was quite tall, at least an inch or more over the major’s height. His eyes were a warm brown, his nose long and straight, and his lips were full. His hair, although much darker in color, was almost as long as Trent’s. With the exception of a strand falling carelessly over his brow, it was brushed neatly back. The shape of his face and the line of his jaw could have replaced the major’s in a heartbeat. He was an incredibly handsome man, but that wasn’t what affected Jessica. There was anxiety hovering about him. It was so evident, she could feel it.

As soon as they were inside, she went in search of the general. It wasn’t difficult to find him. Whenever he wasn’t with the major or following her around, he was in the library. She found him there, slouched in a chair by the window, reading. “There is an officer here to see you,” she told him.

The general slammed his book closed and Jessica jolted. He rolled his eyes as he uncurled himself from the chair. She had to sidestep quickly so he wouldn’t run her down on his way out of the room.

The officer, Jessica saw, was still where she left him. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was staring down at the toes of his boots.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” the general said to him.

“Seth.” The visitor grinned and said lightly, “I had a devil of a time trying to find this place. The directions were terrible! I should have been here hours ago.”

The general held his hand out for the officer to shake, and said earnestly, “I am very sorry.” He wasn’t talking about poor directions.

The smile on the man’s face disappeared. He blinked slowly, and then he blinked again. When he opened his eyes the second time, even from where she was, several yards away, Jessica could see the moisture in them. He cleared his throat and said, “The arrangements have been made. I thought I would find you first before directing the hearse here.”

“Etienne,” the general said, “Jonny is still alive.”

“What?” The word came out of him in a breathless whisper. He inhaled sharply, turned his head to the side and closed his eyes tightly.

Between the resemblance and the name, Jessica knew who he was.

He took another breath and expelled it slowly. “Where is he?”

“He’s sleeping. But I know he will want to see you. Come with me.”

The general led him to the parlor. As they passed Jessica, the general raised an eyebrow. She knew exactly what that haughty expression meant. It was a dare for her to interrupt them.

Before he opened the door, the general said to Etienne, “I don’t want you to be alarmed. Breathing is difficult and the laudanum makes him groggy. He doesn’t look well.”

Jessica knew it was wrong to eavesdrop. It was wrong to stand there spying on them, too, but the general left the door wide open. From the angle, she couldn’t see the major’s face, but she could see he was on the bed. He’d been propped so high on pillows, he was almost sitting up.

The general lightly shook his shoulder. “Jonny, wake up. You have a visitor. Come on, wake up and see who’s here.” It took a second shake to rouse him.

Etienne sat down on the edge of the bed. His tone was tender as he said, “Julien… hey, it’s me.”

Afraid they would notice her, Jessica stepped away and leaned against the wall. From there she couldn’t see. She could only hear. The major said something, but his gravelly whisper was too low for her to make out the words. Whatever he said must have been funny, however, because Etienne chuckled and he said, “Julien, you’re crazy!”

The general’s footsteps alerted her to his movement through the room. Apparently he realized he forgot to close the door. Jessica felt the wind as he shut her out.

Not long thereafter, she saw Etienne from her bedroom window. He was striding swiftly away from the house, heading toward a copse of trees. When he reached it, he leaned his back against a thick trunk, lowered himself to his haunches, crossed his arms over his knees, buried his face in them and visibly sobbed.

TWENTY-ONE

For dinner that evening Jessica came to the dining room and took her seat. She didn’t bother looking for the general and she didn’t know whether Etienne had returned to the house. She wasn’t surprised, however, when the two of them walked in together. They were in the middle of a conversation. She heard the general say, “…it happens sometimes when he’s sleeping.”

Jessica rose politely and forced herself to make eye contact briefly with the general.

“Mrs. Grace,” he said, “this is Etienne Grace, Major Grace’s brother.”

She took Etienne’s outstretched hand. His eyes were bloodshot. “Please call me Jessica,” she said.

Etienne smiled. “It is good to meet you. Julien speaks very highly of you.”

Modestly and bashfully, Jessica looked away. “I hope you will consider staying here at the manor. There is plenty of room.”

“Thank you,” Etienne said. “I appreciate that. The hotel in town is not quite so convenient.”

All conversation at dinner was between the general and Etienne. Jessica listened as they spoke of different military operations, the government, and of how the major had commissioned construction of the house they were in. The general asked after Etienne’s mother, Elise, and then they discussed the major’s assignment. They spoke of the man who started the Sovereign Sons of the South, referring to him only as Stonington, or Stoney. Jessica knew, through Trent, that his full name was Nathanial Stonington, but she didn’t say anything. She supposed it didn’t much matter. The general told Etienne the Sons were completely and permanently disbanded. He went on to talk about the trial. They had to rush the trial date because the major’s testimony was so critical. One thing Jessica noted was that whenever the general spoke of the major, he referred to him as Jonny. Etienne, however, used the name Julien.

At one point, the general remarked, “Jonny was opposed to this whole plan. He only did it because I ordered him to. Don’t get me wrong. He wanted to stop the Klan. He believed in the goal, but he argued with me that we could do it without involving
innocent
people. I refused to listen to him.”

Jessica stopped chewing. The general glanced at her with narrowed eyes, and she knew she was the innocent person he was referring to, and further that he didn’t consider her innocent at all.

Etienne finished eating, dropped his napkin on his plate and said he wanted to spend more time with his brother. The general agreed he should. At the same time, he threw an evil smirk toward Jessica that seemed to say, ‘Too bad, Mrs. Grace, no piano playing or visit with Jonny for you this evening.’

But then, before Etienne stood up, he turned to Jessica and said, “Julien says you are a fabulous pianist and you’ve been serenading him in the evenings. I hope you will play again tonight, and not mind too badly if I infringe upon your time with him.”

Jessica shook her head.

“I look forward to hearing you.” Etienne smiled wryly. “But I will admit I don’t share Julien’s love of music, at least not to that extent.”

Jessica raised one eyebrow and glowered briefly at the general. Pleased with her boldness, she said to Etienne, “He does seem to enjoy listening.”

“He’s quite insatiable over music,” Etienne remarked casually. “Always has been, ever since we were boys. I’ll bet he never told you on Sundays he used to run from one church to the next, attending several different services, just so he could listen to the different organs and pianos.”

Jessica had a difficult time hiding her smile. “No, I didn’t know that.”

 

* * *

 

The following day, during the major’s frequent respites, Jessica spent time talking with Etienne. Mostly, however, Etienne did the talking, relaying story after story of his brother’s childhood adventures. He was quite witty, and Jessica thought, gifted, in the way he presented the tales. Much of the time she was laughing, and she quickly developed an easy comfort level with him. She was finding too, that the more she heard, the more she craved. It was as if she just couldn’t get enough details of the major’s life.

But this wasn’t the only reason to listen to Etienne. The telling of his tales seemed to be cathartic for him, and for this Jessica was grateful. He was grieving. She could see it in the way he often stared off at nothing, in the occasional shudders that passed through him, and in how he excused himself and disappeared for a while.

Of course, when the major was awake, she and Etienne spent their time with him. Shortly before dinner, while the three of them were together, Etienne began speaking of a time the major stole horses. Somehow this didn’t surprise Jessica, especially when Etienne explained the reason for the theft. The major did this because the man training the horses was beating them.

“So we had a horse thief in the family,” Etienne went on. “
Maman
and Dad were beside themselves. They had to make the decision to send Julien to the military academy. It was a good thing they did. He would never have straightened up otherwise.”

Jessica grinned and held the major’s gaze. She was remembering the nearly identical comments they’d shared while he courted her. “I think you straightened up perfectly,” she said.

Almost immediately thereafter, the major succumbed to one of his choking fits. Etienne was up and out of his seat. He bent over his brother, pressed a hand to his chest and the other against his back. “It’s alright,” he murmured. “Cough it up. You can do it. I’ve got you.” This wasn’t the first time Jessica had seen Etienne do this.

It was painful to watch, but between the choking and gasps for air, the major managed to emit two real-sounding coughs. Jessica wasn’t completely sure, but her instincts told her this was a good thing. Etienne didn’t let go until it was clear the episode was over. The major weakly sat back, resting against the chair with his eyes tightly closed.

Noticing a spot of blood smeared near the corner of his mouth, Jessica took her handkerchief, leaned close to him and tenderly wiped it away. She brushed his brow with her fingertips and whispered, “It’s okay, Julien.” It was the first time she’d spoken his name aloud, and she was glad she did.

He opened his eyes, looked at her and breathed, “Thank you.”

His gratitude, she realized, had nothing to do with what she had just done for him. Memories of all the notes he’d written her, and the way he’d signed them with just his initial, came to mind. Understanding dawned, and she smiled. “You’re welcome, Julien.” It warmed her heart when he returned her smile.

After dinner that evening, Jessica and Etienne went out to the porch and sat on the steps. An unusual silence lingered and Jessica looked at Etienne curiously. He was bowed forward with his elbows on his knees, fiddling with an errant thread from his coat sleeve.

As if he suddenly noticed her regard, he glanced at her and said, “Our mother is devastated. And I…I don’t know what to do for her. Adrien is with her now, but he’s as dense as I am. Julien is the only one of us who can comfort
Maman
. Ironic, isn’t it? But he’s like that, you know. He has that way about him, that gift which the rest of us are sadly lacking.”

“I disagree,” Jessica said. “Look at all you’ve done for him today. No one has been able to help him the way you have.”

Etienne shook his head. “A couple years ago, I got myself in a bit of a pickle, and he traveled all the way to the Dakota Territory, in the middle of winter, to be with me. I am only emulating now what he did for me then.”

“You were wounded?” Jessica asked.

He nodded. “But not seriously. Not like he is.” Then he said, “Julien is closer to
Maman
than the rest of us. He is her favorite.”

His despair was so blatant Jessica didn’t know what to do. Gently, she asked, “Why do you say that? Why do you think she’s closer to him?”

“I know that sounds bad,” he said. “It sounds like I’m envious, but I’m not. Believe me when I tell you, none of us are. I don’t know how to explain it, except to say Julien and
Maman
have a special bond. They see things the same way. They communicate better. Even our father was aware of it. He used to say it’s because Julien is her firstborn.”

Jessica was instantly reminded of Evan—her own firstborn. Shaking the painful memories away, she reached for Etienne’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m sure your mother loves you all the same.”

“You’re right,” he said dismally. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. I apologize. It’s just… it’s just… I’m going to miss him so much.”

“Please don’t apologize. I know you are very close to him.” There was only one thing she could think of to help allay his increasing despondency. “Will you tell me more about him? Tell me more stories?”

Etienne grinned and relief poured through Jessica. Steering him worked.

“Did I tell you about our woodshop yet?” he said.

In the dialogue that ensued, Jessica learned that, like his father, Julien had a penchant for wood crafting. It was a hobby he’d spent a lot of time cultivating, and according to Etienne he was quite good at it. There were several pieces made by Julien remaining in their homestead in South Carolina, and more that their mother took with her to Florida. One of these was the first table Julien made, which Etienne described with a chuckle as being rather rustic.

“Julien hates it with a passion,” he said. “He thinks it’s awful, and it is, but
Maman
will never part with it. She keeps it in her parlor and tells everyone how Julien made it when he was only eight years old.

“He gets so embarrassed,” Etienne went on. “Once, years ago, he got so mad, he told her she’d better hide it away in her attic, or he would burn the stupid thing. You have to know our
Maman
. She has this look. It happens rarely, but when she gets you with it, you know not to say another word. Julien got the look that day. That ugly little table is still in her parlor and she still brags about it constantly.”

Etienne couldn’t seem to contain his laughter and Jessica found herself giggling, too. He continued on telling her about a piece of furniture Julien made for a neighboring farm, and he said, “That’s when he was so enamored over Sarah.”

“Sarah?” Jessica asked.

“His first love.” Etienne grimaced. “I suppose you would rather not hear about that.”

“No, I want to know. Please tell me.”

Etienne chuckled. “He was fifteen or sixteen, I think. Sarah was the daughter of the man he built the cabinet for. Julien was completely smitten with her. He used to write her love letters. I found one of them and Adrien and I teased him ruthlessly about it. He was so mad he came after us with a horse whip. Of course he never would have used it, but the threat was enough.”

“What happened to her?” Jessica asked.

“Her daddy married her off to some old man. He was from another state, I can’t remember which any more. But one day she was gone. Julien never saw her again, at least not that I know of.”

“Poor Julien. He must have been crushed.”

Etienne smirked. “He was so angry, he threatened to go after them and rescue her. Our father took him out to the barn, and they were in there for a long time. I think Julien got the worst end of that talking to.”

“Did he have any other loves in his life?” Jessica asked curiously.

“Well, let’s see,” Etienne said impishly, “there was Joan, Cheryl, Frances and Cynthia… I know I’m forgetting some… oh yes, there was Angela and Becky and Karen… um, and what was that other one’s name… Darla, yes, Darla, and there was the other Cindy…”

Upon seeing Jessica’s wide eyes, he burst out laughing. It rolled out of him and grew louder when Jessica’s astonishment turned stricken.

“I’m just teasing,” he tittered. It took another moment for his snickers to fade. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“You’re awful!” Jessica chided playfully. But she couldn’t contain her amusement either and they both ended up laughing.

Afterwards, he said seriously, “There are only two I can remember. Pauline and the one
Maman
couldn’t stand. Oh, what was her name? I’m terrible with names. Madeline. Yes, that’s it, Madeline.”

“Are you sure there were no others?” Jessica asked with a feigned frown.

Etienne chuckled heartily. “No, that’s all. Not that he didn’t do his share of tramping…” Sheepishly, he murmured, “Oops.”

Jessica giggled. “Don’t all young men do that?”

Etienne laughed again and Jessica grinned. “Tell me about Pauline and Madeline.”

“Madeline, hmm, she was a piece of work. If you were to ask
Maman
she would say she was trashy. Julien brought her home once and
Maman
told him to never bring her into our house again. She wore too much perfume and too much rouge. She was pretty enough, I guess, but she whined incessantly. None of us really liked her. He courted her for about a year. I’m not sure what happened, but I think Julien just got tired of her, much to
Maman’s
relief.”

“And Pauline?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, Pauline.” Etienne sighed and the humor that had suffused him earlier disappeared. “Pauline was married to Julien’s best friend, Martin. He and Julien met at the military school and were pretty inseparable for a while. Martin came to visit our home many times. He was a good friend to Julien, and Julien was the best man at his wedding.

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