Concealing Grace (The Grace Series Book 1) (35 page)

From him she found out the rebuilding of Reverend Amos’s church would be complete by the end of the week. Reverend Amos’s parishioners would no longer be coming to his church, but he hoped to convince Reverend Amos to speak every now and again. This turn in the conversation prompted Jessica to tell him she didn’t think Jon would come back to church, regardless of who would be attending the services.

Reverend Nash’s sympathy for her plight, and his forthright concern, persuaded her to speak more openly about the situation at the manor. She told him of her improving relationships with the servants, and about going to buy lumber to repair their cabins. She told him of the arguments she had with Jon, and how she tried, but failed, to convince him to stay away from the Klan. She told the reverend she and Jon were no longer on speaking terms, and she shared with him Jon’s dismissive reaction when he found out about her condition.

Even though Reverend Nash didn’t say anything specifically negative about Jon, it became evident that his opinion of her husband was not good. It wasn’t surprising either, to learn he already knew Jon was a member of the Klan. What touched Jessica the most, however, was his heartfelt congratulations upon hearing she was going to have a child.

Jessica didn’t quite know how to define it, but there was something about Reverend Nash that was incredibly special. It was there in the way he looked at her while she spoke. He made her believe she was the most important person in the world to him. It was there in the way he applauded her bravery and encouraged her to remain strong. She could feel, moment by moment, every bit of her conviction being revitalized. She was thankful she came to see him. She was thankful he moved to Mount Joy, and that she could think of him, not only as the minister of her church, but also as her friend.

Again, she was tempted to ask if he was the spook, but she didn’t. What she did ask was whether he received any more threats from the Klan. He didn’t exactly deny it. Instead he said flippantly, “I don’t worry about the clowns. And you, honey, don’t need to worry about me either. I’m used to taking punches.”

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Taking punches?”

He chuckled, and told her about his past. His father, who was a minister, wanted Sebastian to follow in his footsteps, but Sebastian was adamantly opposed to the idea, and he resented the constant pressure from his parent. At seventeen he ran off, met a man who managed boxers, and the next thing he knew, he was a moderately successful pugilist.

He went on to tell her that his boxing career carried him up until the war, at which time he enlisted in the army. The two years he spent on the battlefields severely tested his faith, and he said during them, he grew up a lot. As soon as he could, he returned home to reconcile with his father. About a year later, encouraged by his wife, he applied to seminary.

These weren’t the only things Jessica learned about his personal life. The community gossip, for the most part, turned out to be accurate. Margaret, his wife, died in late February, 1870, just days after their twelfth wedding anniversary. She’d become ill a few months before, and despite all the doctors and hospitals Sebastian took her to, daily she grew worse. He said the last days of her life were very difficult. He stayed with her through them, and he held her in his arms when she drew her last breath. Even though his wife had been gone for nearly two years, a day didn’t go by that Sebastian didn’t think of her. Jessica could almost feel his pain as he shared this traumatic time in his life with her.

He told her more about his wife after that. He spoke of how they met and how they fell in love. They were only sixteen at the time. It was quite endearing to Jessica that he only referred to her by the pet name he’d given her—Meggie. Except for the years he was away during the war, they were never apart. He was entertaining too in telling about a trip they took to New York City, where one afternoon, they became inexorably lost. And he spoke of his first ministerial assignment, of how the people were skeptical of him. Meggie was the one who won the congregation over.

It was highly evident Sebastian had cared deeply for his late wife. More than once, while listening to him, Jessica was so moved, she was almost brought to tears.

By then, their tea was long gone and so were the cookies. With the exception of the fireplace, the room had grown dark. Time had simply flown by.

“Oh my goodness,” Sebastian said. “I didn’t realize how late it’s become.”

“I didn’t either.” Jessica giggled.

She watched him as he went about lighting lamps. He was so big and strong and such an extraordinary man. Not only because he was a minister, but because of his care for, and fearless dedication, to others. These attributes, along with his skills as a fighter and a soldier, were further proof her suspicions about him were correct.

As he sat down again, he said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your recommendations for my school. I wouldn’t have thought of half of the things I’ll need to do on my own.” His expression grew solemn as he went on, “And I also want to say thank you. Thank you for being here and listening to me. I’m sorry I carried on so long, but it’s been a while since I’ve been able to speak of Meggie with someone who cares.”

Jessica could have said exactly the same to him with regard to her own troubles. “Please don’t be sorry,” she said. “I’m glad I came.”

“Perhaps you’ll come again?” he asked.

“I would like that,” she said.

He smiled. “I may not want to, but I should let you go. If you’ll give me a moment to saddle Apostle, I’ll ride with you. I can’t allow you to travel alone in the dark.” His eyes flashed. “And this will give me the perfect opportunity to try out my new scarf.”

Later that night, while lying in bed, Jessica thought once again of Sebastian’s devotion to his Meggie. Just remembering the things he said and the stories he shared caused her eyes to burn. She couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to be so genuinely cherished and so profoundly loved. While picturing the handsome reverend in her mind, she came to several realizations.

The first: His big black horse was the confirmation she needed. There was no longer any question in her mind. Sebastian Nash
had to be
the spook.

The second: From now on, she would do anything and everything in her power to help and protect him, even if it meant she had to lower herself to speak with her horrid husband and his friends.

And the third: Sebastian and his Meggie were a perfect example of what love should look like. For years Jessica had been obsessed with Harry Simpson. For a time she’d been besotted by Jon, too. What she felt for both of those men, however, was not real. She’d simply been too immature and naïve to understand her feelings. Now, because of her own uninformed, hasty choices, she was trapped in marriage to a man who was a drunk and a cruel, perverted bigot. There was nothing she could do about it. But…

Of course she could never expect Sebastian to return her feelings, and God forbid that she ever reveal them to him, but… maybe, just maybe, for the first time in her life, from her side alone, she would be able to know what it felt like to truly be in love.

For General Seth McLean being in Nashville was almost like being home again. Coming back to this part of the country wasn’t something he ever thought he would do, and at first, expecting bad memories to haunt him, he didn’t want to. But now that he was here, he was quite content. It was especially good to be around people who, upon hearing his accent, didn’t instantly form the opinion that he was inferior simply because he was from the South. The meeting that would take place momentarily, however, would tell him how much longer it would be before he had to return to Washington. He didn’t like that swamp of a city, but he had long ago resigned himself to the idea that he would probably live there for the rest of his life.

Fortunately the other two men waiting at the conference table with him were only in Nashville temporarily. The squirrel, General Walter Reading and sunshine-headed Frederick Washington rode in on the train the day before, and would be leaving on the next. Seth had tried to convince them not to come at all. Forwarding reports, as he’d been doing for the last six months, was much less of a headache. Nevertheless, for this particular meeting, they insisted upon coming in person.

Absently, as he listened to their casual conversation, he thought to himself that his life in the Nation’s capital would be much better if he could change his accent to sound like they did.

Why he was thinking about accents, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was because until the squirrel and the darkie showed up, he hadn’t had to listen to any Yankees. For the last five years, Yankees were all he’d been listening to. In Washington he was surrounded by them. He’d thought, too, that over time, he might pick up the northern slur, but he hadn’t. He still sounded like the deeply rooted southerner he was.

There was only one man he knew who could speak using any accent he wanted, and keep it going, seemingly without effort. It was one of the reasons Seth chose him for this particular mission.

A light tapping at the door interrupted Seth’s musings. As he, the squirrel and the darkie rose to their feet, Seth called out, “Come.”

They were expecting two men, but only one of them entered the room.

* * *

Herlin stepped into the meeting room in the office building in Nashville and closed the door behind him quietly. The three men he expected to see were present. His boss, Frederick Washington was the first to come forward and shake his hand.

“Herlin, it’s good to see you,” Mr. Washington said.

“Yes, sir.”

General Reading came to him next, remarking, “Happy New Year.”

“Same to you, sir.”

“Where’s the major?” General Seth McLean cut in coldly.

“Midnight went lame on the ride up,” Herlin explained. “The major is seeing to him. He said to send his apology for the delay. He’ll be along as soon as he can.”

General McLean raised an irritated brow, but said nothing more.

General Reading commented, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so attached to an animal as he is to that one. I hope Midnight is okay.”

Herlin chuckled as they took their seats around the large table. He set his cap down. “You can say that again. I’m sure Midnight will be fine.”

“McLean, should we go ahead and get started?” General Reading asked.

General McLean’s black eyes narrowed. “I would prefer to wait.”

Silence overwhelmed the room until it grew decidedly uncomfortable. With a somewhat defiant glance toward General McLean, General Reading said, “Herlin, I wouldn’t mind hearing the report from your perspective.”

Herlin looked into the intimidating eyes of General McLean and had to repress a shiver. There were certain aspects of this whole scheme that neither General Reading, nor Frederick Washington were aware of. This was ultimately why General McLean wanted the report to come from the major. Lying to his boss wasn’t something Herlin ever expected to do, but for the last six months he had been. He understood why it was necessary, and he was too dedicated to this project to foil it by saying something he shouldn’t.

Carefully contemplating his remarks before speaking, he said, “We believe membership totals have increased since our last report to two hundred eighty-six. The breakdown is one hundred fourteen in the northeast sector, with the remaining in the other three sectors. Since our last report, we have confirmed the southwest sector is headquartered in Pulaski. We believe Stone lives in or near Pulaski, but we have not confirmed it.”

“What about the leadership?” General Reading asked.

“There have been no changes since our last report. To date we know the names of five in the northeast, and two in the southeast,” Herlin replied.

“But you’re closer with Stone?” Frederick Washington asked.

Herlin shook his head. “Unfortunately no, sir.”

“You believe he resides near Pulaski. This is new information,” General Reading said.

“It is pure speculation. Stone has yet to make an appearance in Mount Joy. His identity remains unknown.”

“What about Klan activity?” General Reading asked next.

This was not a question Herlin wanted to answer. Slowly he admitted, “In the northeast, it has increased.” But then he added quickly, “The other sectors remain passive.”

Frederick Washington looked pointedly at General Reading. The unspoken message between them was clear, and it was not good.

General Reading said, “McLean, perhaps alternative plans need to be considered.”

“We’re getting closer every day,” Herlin interjected. “Give us more time. We just need a little more time. The major wants this to end as badly as you do.”

“How much more time?” General Reading asked.

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” Herlin tittered.

General McLean broke in, “If you will recall, gentlemen, we slated a year. I think we’re on track at this juncture.”

“The violence is escalating!” General Reading said firmly.

General McLean scowled. “Was there ever any question it wouldn’t?”

The animosity between them was tangible. Herlin had been present at enough meetings to know General Reading disagreed with the whole set up of this plan. He’d been outvoted by the committee in Washington. Herlin was also present when General Reading met the major for the first time. It was a meeting he preferred to forget.

General Reading didn’t take his eyes from General McLean while he asked Herlin, “In your opinion is the major doing everything he should be to accomplish this assignment?”

Herlin nodded vigorously. “He is the right man for the job, sir.”

“How comfortable are you with his cover? Is it secure?” Mr. Washington asked.

“It’s alright,” Herlin said, and then he wanted to kick himself for hesitating.

“You don’t seem certain of that,” General Reading said.

“No, I’m sure. It is secure.”

“Herlin, what about your position. Is it secure?” Mr. Washington said.

“It is.”

“How are you and your family handling everything?”

“It’s certainly not ideal, but we’ve adjusted. We’ll be alright.”

“How is your son?” General Reading asked.

Herlin smiled. “Willy is fine, sir.”

“Doesn’t his being subjected to the prejudice trouble you?”

Herlin couldn’t deny that it did. Slowly he nodded. “In our society, no matter where he goes, Willy will suffer because of his race. It is a fact of life. I don’t like seeing him treated as he is at Bent Oak Manor, but I also see the value of the lesson he is learning through it.”

“You’re a very wise man, Herlin,” General Reading said. “I can understand why Frederick trusts you as he does. Regardless of the major’s performance, I want you to know we all agree yours has been superior. You are to be commended for all you have done. It is well recognized by the entire committee and by the President.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence,” Herlin said. “But I must give credit where credit is due. The major deserves the commendation, not me.”

“You have a lot of respect for him?” Mr. Washington said. He seemed surprised.

Before Herlin had a chance to say more, the major knocked on the door.

Much to Herlin’s dismay, both General Reading and Mr. Washington grilled the major from the moment he walked into the room. General Reading all but accused him of being responsible for the increasing violence. Whether it was because of the major’s background or because General Reading doubted his ability, Herlin wasn’t sure, but it was obvious the general didn’t like the major at all. And Mr. Washington, it seemed, shared the general’s view.

Herlin watched the man he’d come to admire so highly, silently listening while General Reading berated everything he’d achieved thus far as unsatisfactory, and Herlin could barely control his own rage. Several times he was on the verge of speaking out in the major’s defense. Knowing the major as he did, however, his calm wasn’t surprising. The only thing Herlin could do was try to emulate it.

Eventually—
thankfully!
—everything that needed to be said was said. The major rose, saluted his superiors, and said casually, “Good day.”

Herlin followed him out into the hallway and closed the conference room door behind him. “I’m so sorry, Major,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” the major said. “There’s no reason for you to apologize.”

“I forgot my cap. I’ll catch up to you.” Herlin waited a moment, watching the major stride down the hallway. He seemed unaffected, but Herlin knew better. Without bothering to knock he went back into the room.

General McLean was speaking. Herlin only caught the tail end of what the daunting man was saying, but there was no mistaking the fury in his tone, or to whom his words were directed. “…if this mission fails, the fault will not be his! It will be yours!”

With a cool, “Excuse me,” Herlin retrieved his cap and started for the door. Before going through it, he turned and said pointedly to General Reading, “I apologize if I am speaking out of turn, but I think you’ve made a grave mistake. There is no man I know more determined to
save
lives than Major Grace.”

~ FINIS ~