Even in history's darkest times, enlightened men looked to the heart when choosing a friend. From These Ashes, is about a young man from Barnwell County, South Carolina who inherits 150 of his fellow human-beings. Part I, A Friend Loveth at All Times, speaks of the close relationships that existed on plantations between master and slave and the unrecognized struggle for freedom complicated by loyalty to a fair master.
Part II, A Brother Offended, continues the story through the war. The characters serve with the 2nd South Carolina Cavalry under Edgefield's M.C. Butler - sharing in such adventures as Brandy Station, Hampton's cattle raid and the bitter return to South Carolina to fight against Kilpatrick's Army, who gloried in burning a path from the low country to Columbia with more vengeance than Sherman dealt Georgia.
After the war, the main character returns home to find another challenge. Following true accounts of the Reconstruction, Part III, Through Wisdom is a House Built, places the characters into this agonizing time. In Part III, the main character does what he must to build a safe future for those he loves from the ashes left by Kilpatrick's invasion.
From These Ashes celebrates positive qualities in men of both colors. Reynolds believes what we give our power over to will manifest. With this story he has chosen to celebrate the good in mankind - the good that was present then and is now. President Lincoln once said when meeting Harriet Beecher Stowe, "So you're the little lady who wrote the book that started this great war!" Reynolds shares a veiled history with a new generation of Americans. Knowledge brings understanding and understanding empathy. So with this tale his prayer is set free... Let the South be free to celebrate her Confederate heritage.
From These Ashes Part III
Through Wisdom is a House Built ... Proverbs 24:3By T.E. ReynoldsAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 T.E. Reynolds
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4567-0116-1 Chapter One
The early morning songbirds woke James up on his first morning at White Oaks. For a moment he was content to just lie there — taking in everything his senses would allow. The smell of the fresh linens and the feel of the soft feather bed beneath him reminded him of how good it was to be home again. The sight of the dimly lit room with the old familiar furnishings made it seem as if a miracle had spared White Oaks from the evil that had changed so many things throughout the South. Then he thought of Melinda and her direct "telegraph line" to her Heavenly Father and smiled.
Pushing back the sheets, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched his arms over his head. He sat there deep in thought, until the north window beckoned him. At the window, he pushed back the draperies and looked towards the graveyard where Cassy lie. With no one stirring in the upstairs bedchambers, James dressed for the day then quietly left the Big House. On the path leading to the garden, he could see the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. He stopped there to gather the few remaining flowers not trampled underfoot by Kilpatrick's men, then walked across the lawn in the direction of the family cemetery. Dew sparkled on the green grass, giving the toes of his well-worn boots a polished appearance. At the gate, he paused for a moment to reflect on his past. His mind scanned a lifetime of memories laid to rest behind that fence. For several moments more, he clung to those precious moments he had spent with Cassy, moments that were gone forever.
When he placed his hand on the wrought iron gate, it felt as cold as the last goodbye kiss he had placed on her lips the day they put her to rest beneath the red earth of White Oaks. At the grave where she and their child rested, the mound of soil once heaped high was now flat with the passing of time. Knelling by the grave, he placed two flowers there — one for her and one for their child. Lingering for a moment, he thought of the irreplaceable time they had shared. Knowing the time was drawing close when he would be giving his heart away again, he whispered the words almost apologetically, "I will always love you both, no matter who else I let into my life. I want you to know that."
Then a simple question filled his thoughts. "How can I be at peace knowing you're so sad?" A tear gathered in the corner of his eye when he realized that was exactly what love was all about. And there was no doubt in his mind that was the experience they had shared. It seemed as though Cassy's words of love from the grave were giving him permission to live again. Loving her had been a good thing, no matter what the world thought of it. He would never regret those moments. She had shown him that love — sweet and pure was within his reach. Cassy and the boy would always be a part of his soul. He knew if there was such a place as Heaven, they surely were there.
While James knelt on the hillside, Willie and Leah walked towards woodpile behind the kitchen for kindling to start the morning's fire. It was there she noticed him in the growing light of day, kneeling by her daughter's grave. She sucked in a deep breath and laid a hand on Willie's arm. When she looked up at her husband, a tear rolled down her cheek. Willie smiled tenderly and wiped it away. What she saw had touched her heart. The same four years that had not diminished her love for Cassy appeared to have left James' love intact as well. It was then that Leah realized the man kneeling on the hill deserved her friendship.
Quietly Leah loaded Willie's arms with the wood, making sure she didn't disturb the young man. James stood up and walked towards the graves of the other two important women in his life. After placing a single flower on both his mother's and Mammy's graves, he walked towards the gate and swung it open. He paused with his back still to the headstones. Old insecurities, magnified by his failure of the last four years, dominated his thoughts. Then he heard the words he hated. "Worthless! You're worthless!" He turned around to look at the place where his father rested. "God help White Oaks!" The sound of Beau's voice echoed over and over in his mind.
Then James thought about how he had been told by so many that he was one of the "lucky" ones. True – he had been spared the deadly consequences of the fray, returning home with nothing more than a slight limp on rainy days. And for that he was thankful. But being one of the "lucky" ones brought its own burden. The consequences of those four years haunted him day and night in his waking thoughts and dreams. The failures he had experienced on his four-year journey back to White Oaks only served to support Beau's opinion of him. Had he not given his very best, and at times more than he had to give, during these past four years? Yet, he still had ridden home with nothing to show for his sacrifices. He had suffered the weather, wounds, near starvation, loss of his best friend and so many other good men. And once back on their native soil, in their last desperate struggle, Hampton's men had been unable to prevent Kilpatrick from laying waste to South Carolina. Had it not been enough for the damn Federals to defeat the Confederate Army without destroying so many homes and farms? Perhaps if he had fought a little harder, a little longer — ridiculous! He had given all he had and would have given more, if Hampton had ordered them to Texas.
Their bitter defeat only reinforced in his mind that perhaps Beau had been right all along. He was worthless. How could his father have been so sure he was going to be a failure? He must have seen something. Perhaps all who looked at him saw the same thing. Why did he ever think Beau had been wrong?
Then from nowhere came the redeeming voice of a child, sparing him from the hell his thoughts had created. Sighing deeply, he turned his head to little Jeffy, who was calling his name. James let the gate close behind him and walked towards the child running to greet him. When he knelt down, Jeffy flung himself into his arms. Giving his uncle a big hug, he said, "I'm so glad you're still here, Uncle James."
"So am I, Jeffy. So am I." The child had no idea just how much he really meant those words. 'Home, Sweet Home'. He must hang up such a sign as soon as he could.
"Will you sit with Jenny and me in the kitchen while we eat our breakfast? Auntie Leah has it ready."
"Certainly." James stood and took the boy's hand.
James could feel Jeffy staring at him. Finally the boy said, "You look funny in that beard."
"Oh, do I now?"
"Yes, you do. Mama said she hardly knew who you were with all that hair on your face."
"Do you think your Mama would like me to shave it off after breakfast?"
"Yes, and I should like that too. Then I'll know for sure my Uncle James is home. Are you staying forever now?"
"Yes. The war is over."
"Mama said my Papa's not coming home. She said he's in heaven."
"It must make you sad that you won't see your father again."
"Yes, but when she told me Papa wasn't coming home, I was really afraid you wouldn't come home either. When I asked her if you would be coming home, she said I must pray every night and ask God to keep you safe. So I did that. And here you are."
"You certainly are your mother's son." James smiled and tousled the boy's dark curls. Kneeling down to look the boy in the eye, he promised, "You need not worry or be afraid anymore. I'll always be here for you." Jeffy gave James a big hug just before Leah came to the kitchen door and called him to the table.
"Sit down der, child, and eat yo'r breakfast before it gets cold." Leah pulled the long wooden bench away from her kitchen table, then went to the wood stove and removed the cast iron frying pan. She placed fried cornbread and scrambled eggs on Jenny's plate. James walked over to the little girl and bent down to give her a hug. She immediately pulled away and stared at him with a puzzled look on her face. Scurrying towards Leah, she clung tightly to her.
"She's just goin' to take a while to warm up to yo'. Dat's all."
"You think so? She certainly does favor her Aunt Jessica." James smiled, watching Leah soothe Jenny's auburn curls. When he felt the child's icy cold stare, so reminiscent of Jessica's, he shook a little.
Leah, picking up on the unspoken words, chuckled along with him. "Don't I know? But her Auntie Leah loves her anyways."
While James kept the children company during their breakfast, Leah poured him a cup of the brew she was substituting for coffee these days. During the meal, James sipped at his 'coffee' and caught up on the past four years with Willie and Cato.
While James visited with Willie in the kitchen, Melinda set the dining room table in the Big House and then went upstairs to dress for breakfast. Looking at herself in the full length mirror, she thought about how tired she was of wearing black. She had worn it sincerely when her father died. But it seemed like a mockery to wear it for Jefferson. Waiting in the pantry for Leah to bring the food from the outdoor kitchen, her heart beat a little faster when she heard James' footsteps in the dining room. She wondered why the prospect of seeing her old friend had her as nervous as a mouse within the reach of a hungry cat. Hearing Leah at the outside pantry door, she opened it to let her enter.
"Is James out there?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Melinda smiled at her. Tucking a stray hair nervously into her mourning cap, she leaned close to Leah's ear and whispered, "How do I look? Do I look alright?"
Leah grabbed both of her hands and nodded. "Yo' look fine — just fine." Smiling to herself, Leah thought how nice it would be if Miss Lindy and Massa James could make a life together. They would be so good for each other.
When Melinda breezed through the pantry door, James looked at the beautiful young woman, who was also his best friend. He walked over to her place at the table and pulled back the chair. "You are the best sight of home I've seen so far. Just look at you. You look even more beautiful than I remembered." After pushing her chair in, he sat at the head of the table. Melinda rang the china bell and the door to the pantry opened.
After Leah served them breakfast, they said in unison, "Thank you." Looking at each other, they smiled.
"I's goin' to close des doors so yo' all can eat without dem children botherin' yo'." Leah walked to the big double doors separating the dining room from the drawing room and pulled them shut.
Melinda passed a bowl of scrambled eggs to James. "It's so good to have you home."
"I can't tell you how good it is to be home."
"What are your plans for today?"
"Shaving off my beard so Jeffy's Mama will recognize me without all this hair on my face," James teased.
"That little rascal! There's not a thing you can say in front of him that he doesn't repeat."
"It must keep you honest."
"You'd think I would learn." Melinda smiled. Looking at James, she thought how wonderful it was to have her old friend home again. She had missed him so.
"I think once I'm recognizable, I'm going to talk to my people about their freedom and what it means to them. I want them to understand that this will be a lean year. I'll give them my word that if they stay and help raise the food crops, they'll get an equal share. We can talk about next year's cash crop and how they'll be paid for the work they do."
"I already told them they were free to go if they wished, when Kilpatrick's troops crossed over into South Carolina. At that time, several families left. One family has already come back."
"How many remain?"
"About ninety-seven. Nineteen families in all."
"This year, my main concern is keeping a roof over our heads and feeding everyone at White Oaks. We're already behind in our planting, but as long as we can get our food crops in, I'll be satisfied. We have time enough to worry about a cash crop next year — especially since you told me about the contents of your secret hiding place in the root cellar."
"It was a clever idea Willie had, wasn't it?"
"Clever is an understatement!" James looked up from his plate and smiled at Melinda. "Both of you are brilliant. Your insistence upon payment in gold for last year's cotton crop was pure genius. Why, Melinda, it was you who saved White Oaks for us."
'For us' ... Melinda's heart beat a little faster with those words.
"It will buy us the time we need and allow for any emergencies. Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
"And what about the perfect hiding place?"
"Last night when Willie showed me the root cellar and explained what he'd done, I had to laugh at his cleverness in fooling the blasted Yankees."
"Let me tell you about the first night he started digging." Melinda could not contain her laughter thinking about it. Once able to proceed, she told James the story about sneaking in the dark of night to see where the noise of Willie's digging was coming from, her blood-curdling scream, and Willie hitting his head. James and Melinda laughed together at her story, just like old times.
When they finally recovered, James asked, "What livestock do we have left?"
"We have a cow. She's in season right now and needs to be bred soon. The Smith family – you know those dreadfully poor folks just outside of Blackville with all those little boys and the new baby girl, have a bull. I'm sure they wouldn't mind making some money by breeding our cow. We also have about six laying hens, a rooster, and two pigs that managed to wedge themselves between the fence and the shed when the Yankees were here. Willie had the devil of a time getting them out. I sure don't know what I would have done without Willie and Leah."
"They certainly have been good friends, haven't they? That day in Charleston when I bought Willie and his family, he made a promise to me. A promise he has never broken. When Willie saw how angry my father got, he told me he was never going to make me sorry that I saved his family. He truly is a man of his word." James thought how wrong Beau had been about his decision to buy Willie's family. He had done the right thing that day at the Vendue Range. Willie's loyalty was proof of it.
"I don't think you ever told me about that day. What happened?"
Listening to James' story, she thought of how much she appreciated everything about him. James was the kind of man she had always wished to marry. When the story was over, she said, "How kind of you to do that for them." James looked at her and smiled. She was so unlike her sister. Melinda was just the kind of woman with whom he had always hoped to share his life.
"It was a miracle the troops didn't burn down the Big House." James changed the subject. "Is that more of your praying saving the day?" James teased, and smiled at his friend.
"You rascal! Truthfully, if it wasn't for the fact God placed Jefferson's cousin in the right place at the right time, both White Oaks and June Hill might not have fared as well as they did. However, they did burn the barn before he could stop them. And they took off most of our livestock, as well."
"I noticed the carriage house and stable are still standing. Is Lady Shane's colt still here?"
"Yes, believe it or not, he's still with us. We have one draft horse left. All but one of the cotton wagons are gone."
"What about the buggy and carriage?"
"The Yankees, led by your old overseer, Earl Coombs, shoveled manure in the carriage. We tried to clean it out the best ..."
"Earl Coombs dressed in blue! What could be worst than that?"
"Nothing! He's a horrid man. He frightened me so. I hope we've seen the last of him. If it hadn't been for the captain, we would have fared much worse." After a few moments of silence, curiosity prompted Melinda to ask, "What were the events surrounding Jefferson's death?"
James related the story of her husband's demise. Listening to the tale, Melinda thought it was a befitting end to such a unkind man. Realizing what she had just thought, she quickly prayed for forgiveness. When James finished the story, he asked, "How are you doing now that Jefferson is gone?"
Melinda sighed. She knew she could speak the truth to James without fear of reprisal. "I would be a liar if I said I grieved. I feel only relief. It's a mockery to wear black. He never really got to know the children. And if he had, that would have been the only tragedy in it."
"I understand perfectly." James remembered how he had felt after Jessica's death.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from From These Ashes Part IIIby T.E. Reynolds Copyright © 2011 by T.E. Reynolds. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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