The Widow of Rose Hill (The Women of Rose Hill Book 2), стр. 51

Finding her door closed, she turned the glass knob, entered, and headed toward the bathing room.

Jezro, the field worker with the branded cheeks, stood next to her bureau. Martha Ellis’ pearl-drop necklace dangled from his hand.

She gasped.

Fear flashed across Jezro’s face, but it quickly vanished, replaced with a steely-eyed glare. “Don’t you make a sound. I don’t want to have to hurt nobody.”

Natalie swallowed, her mouth gone dry. “What are you doing in here?” The answer was terrifyingly obvious, but her mind could not seem to grasp the scene before her. A Negro man stood in her bedroom, rifling through her belongings. Was this part of the new world Colonel Maish and the northern abolitionists wanted her to accept?

“I’s gettin’ me a little extra pay for all my years o’ service to you white folks.” His sneer made the scars more pronounced.

“You were not a Rose Hill slave.” What should she do? The open door was only two steps away, but she feared if she tried to escape, he’d be upon her before she could get away. Thank goodness Samuel and Isaac were outside.

“Don’t matter if I weren’t your slave, Miz Natalie. Your kind thought they could own me, mark me up with a hot iron, an’ make me bend to them.” He spat on the carpet. “I done with white people tellin’ me what to do.”

“I’m sorry for what you endured,” she said, working to keep her voice calm. Surely if she reasoned with him, the man could see the error of his ways. “Things are different now. You’re free. Free to make your own choices.” She glanced at the open drawers of her bureau. “Stealing is not the way to begin your new life. The Bible says it’s wrong.”

He laughed coldly. “What does some uppity white woman know about right an’ wrong? You ain’t never gone hungry because yo’ white massa won’t give you food. You ain’t never had an iron fresh outta the fire pressed against your face, the smell of yo’ own burnin’ flesh making you sick. You ain’t never been strapped to a tree and had yo’ white massa take the skin off your bones with a whip, cursin’ you with every swing ’cuz you done tried to get that freedom you white people give and take away whenever you please.”

His voice and his eyes hardened with each horrible description.

Trying to reason with the angry man was foolishness. His hatred went too deep. He blamed her for all the sins imparted upon him by his masters. And though she was guilty for keeping Rose Hill slaves in bondage the past four years, she had done nothing to this man.

She took a step backward, her eyes wide with fear. “Take the necklace and go.”

Run! a voice in her mind commanded.

A silent, tense moment passed before they both sprang into action.

Natalie whirled to flee the room. Jezro lunged to keep her inside. A struggle ensued. His sweaty body odor filled her nostrils as he pressed her against the wall. She fought and struggled, but her tired muscles were no match for his powerful arms. Terror washed over her. Would she be violated in her own bedroom by a newly freed slave?

Voices sounded from below stairs.

“Help!” she cried. “Help me!”

Jezro stilled, listening.

“Miz Natalie? That you makin’ all that ruckus?”

She had never been so happy to hear Carolina’s voice.

Footfalls on the stairs forced Jezro to release his grip on her. With a curse, he flung her from him and sprinted through the adjoining sitting room then into the hallway. The back stairway would allow him to escape, but she didn’t care. She wanted him gone.

Tears clouded her vision as Carolina and Corporal Banks entered the room.

“Miz Natalie!” Carolina rushed to her. “What happened?”

Natalie trembled and her breath came in such hard gulps, she couldn’t speak.

Carolina shot the corporal a concerned look.

“Jezro,” Natalie finally gasped, wrapping her arms around her body. “He was here … in my room.”

“Just now?” Carolina shrieked, horror widening her eyes. She turned to the corporal. “He must’ve gone out the back.”

Corporal Banks tore from the chamber.

Carolina took Natalie by the arm. “Come sit down, Miz Natalie. You safe now.” She led Natalie to a chair near the cold fireplace. When Natalie was settled, Carolina knelt beside her. “You want some tea to calm yo’ nerves?”

Natalie shook her head and closed her eyes. “I just need to know that man is long gone.” Her eyes flew open again. “Samuel!” She moved to stand, but Carolina gently pushed her back into the chair.

“He fine, Miz Natalie. He and Isaac are with Harriet up in her room over the kitchen. They lookin’ at that picture book you give Isaac.”

Relief washed through her, but her body would not stop trembling.

“I get some water heated for yo’ bath.” Carolina stood. “A nice soak do you good. I tell Harriet and Moses to be on the lookout for that no-good Jezro, but I ’spect he hightail it outta here and won’t never come back. Not with Yankee so’diers lookin’ for him.” A hint of pride sounded in her voice.

Carolina left, closing the door behind her. Natalie rose on shaky legs and turned the key in the lock. She went into the sitting room and locked the door that led to the hallway. With her forehead pressed against the wood and tears slipping down her cheeks, she let out a sob. Surely God had sent Carolina and Corporal Banks at just the right time. Had it also been His voice in her mind, telling her to run?

“Thank you,” she whispered, weak with gratitude.

Only then did the tremors in her body begin to subside.