She could feel the tears running down her face as she handed him the bracelet and let him slip it on her wrist. She then let herself be enfolded in his arms. Just as Mahti’s prophecy had come true about Morse, so had Araminta’s dream about the sea chest and the bracelet. In her dream the sun had come out when Raimond placed the bracelet on her wrist, and Sable did feel as if she were being bathed by its warm rays. Feeling the Old Queens smiling down, she whispered, “I love you so.”
“I love you more,” he said thickly. “After Morse took you, I realized I’d never told you how much I love you or how much I enjoy waking up and seeing your smile. I love you, Sable LeVeq.”
He drew back and held her eyes. “I also never asked your forgiveness for not believing your story about Baker.”
“You couldn’t be sure, I know.”
“I know this—I will love you for an eternity.”
Sable basked in his strong, loving embrace and vowed, “I will love you for an eternity as well.”
Author’s Note
The story of Sable and Raimond grew from three sources of inspiration, the first being my desire to highlight the triumphs and tragedies of the tumultuous years immediately following the Civil War. The second inspiration rose from reading a book by William D. Pierson titled, Black Legacy: America’s Hidden Heritage. One chapter highlighted enslaved African royals. Although there were only a few snippets on queens, they were more than enough to get my imagination running. The third inspiration came from my fans. If you wrote to me and requested, or in some cases demanded, a story featuring Raymond LeVeq from Indigo as the hero, raise your hand. Out of the hundreds of letters I received after the publication of Indigo, nine out of ten wanted Raymond to have his own book. I changed the spelling of his name from the Americanized Raymond to the proper French Raimond. I hope you don’t mind.
Although I featured only one verse of “The Song of the Black Republicans,” the other five verses can be found in The Black Press, 1827-1890, edited by Martin E. Dann. According to Mr. Dann, the “song” was printed only in The Black Republican, another of New Orleans’s Black newspapers. He could not determine how widely it was sung.
Below is a list of books I suggest you try for further reading.
Cornish, Dudley Taylor. The Sable Arm: Negro Troops in the Union Army, 1861-1865. W.W. Norton. New York. 1966.
Foner, Eric. Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution. 1863-1877. Harper and Row. New York. 1988.
Gehman, Mary. Free People of Color of New Orleans. Margaret Media. New Orleans. 1994.
Glatthaar, Joseph T. Forged in Battle: The Civil War Alliance of Black Soldiers and White Officers. Free Press. New York. 1990.
Hollandsworth, James G. The Louisiana Native Guards: The Black Military Experience During the Civil War. Louisiana State University Press. Baton Rouge. 1995.
McPherson, James M. Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era. Oxford University Press. New York. 1988.
Pierson, William D. Black Legacy: America’s Hidden Heritage. University of Massachusetts Press. Amherst. 1993.
Quarles, Benjamin. The Negro in the Civil War. Da Capo Press. New York. 1953.
Stampp, Kenneth. The Era of Reconstruction, 1865-1877. Vintage Books. New York. 1965.
Sterling, Dorothy A., ed. The Trouble They Seen: The Story of Reconstruction in the Words of African-Americans. Da Capo Press. New York. 1994.
Sterling, Dorothy A., ed. We Are Your Sisters: Black Women in the Nineteenth Century. W.W. Norton. New York. 1984.
I want to thank the following individuals for their help and support:
Cecilia Oh, my new editor—welcome aboard. Ellen E. and Nancy Y., thanks so very much. Darcy and James Barker not only took me into their home on a book-signing trip to Cleveland, but fed me and treated me like family. Bless you both for your big hearts. Special thanks to Kelly Ferjutz for her TLC; Sandra Z. Harris of Birmingham, Alabama, for the great phone calls; Ladies in Line for the fan club and their unflagging faith; Catina Colston, who reads my books at a U.S. base in Turkey; and Leontyne Thomas, my number one fan in Trinidad-Tobago.
For anyone interested in joining the only official fan club, please contact: Beverly Jenkins Fan Club, c/o Ladies in Line Productions, P.O. Box 252862, West Bloomfield, Michigan 48325 for more information. Everyone else may continue to write to me in care of my post office box: P.O. Box 1893, Belleville, Michigan 48112.
In closing, let me give a shout out to all of the hundreds upon hundreds of you who’ve taken the time to drop me a line. I do appreciate it.
Stay strong and keep reading. Until next time.
Peace,
About the Author
BEVERLY JENKINS grew up in Detroit. Her passion for romance and African-American history have her hard at work on her sixth novel for Avon Books. She enjoys hearing from fans. Please send your letters to:
Beverly Jenkins
P.O. Box 1893
Belleville, MI 48112
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Avon Books by Beverly Jenkins
ALWAYS AND FOREVER
BEFORE THE DAWN
A CHANCE AT LOVE
NIGHT SONG
THE TAMING OF JESSI ROSE
THROUGH THE STORM
TOPAZ
Coming Soon
THE EDGE OF MIDNIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THROUGH THE STORM. Copyright © 1998 by Beverly Jenkins. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
ePub edition February 2007 ISBN 9780061754098
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Georgia, 1864 When house slave Sable Fontaine was growing up in the mansion that was her home, it had taken fifteen male slaves to care for the rolling green lawns surrounding the estate. Under the watchful eye of the head gardener, an equal number of young slaves had trimmed the trees and sculpted the shrubs. They’d planted lush, fragrant flowers every spring, adding color and beauty to the genteel, pastoral surroundings, and every year the sprawling white house had been freshly painted so that its stately columns anchoring the wide front porch stood like monuments gleaming in the Georgia sun. Now the Fontaine lawns and gardens were overgrown with weeds. No one had trimmed
the shrubs or trees in three seasons, and the lush flowers hadn’t been planted for years. The house hadn’t been painted either, and it gleamed no more. Because of Mr. Lincoln’s war, no slaves could be spared to perform such inconsequential tasks. Everyone was too bent upon survival. When the conflict began
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Staying off the road, Sable used the trees and thick underbrush lining the roadway to shield her passage. Thigh-high weeds snagged her skirts, and in some places she had to push aside low-hanging branches. The ground proved to be rocky and uneven as she crossed streams and followed the hilly terrain of the vast Fontaine land, but she kept pace, intent upon placing as much distance between herself and her past as possible. Grief accompanied her like a companion, and on long, lonely stretches of the trek she let it have its head. At times she cried so hard, she couldn’t see, and her heart ached as it never had before. By the time the sun climbed directly overhead, she’d been walking for hours. Hot and weary, she finally surrendered, admitting the need for rest. She took a seat against the trunk of a sheltering tree, ate part of a yam she found wrapped in the canvas bag, then spent a moment surveying the other contents. There was a skin from which she took a small sip of water,
Chapter 2
Chapter 3 Major Raimond LeVeq put down his pen and stretched wearily. He’d been doing paperwork for most of the day and was tired. Because no one in the local Union command had the time, or in some cases the desire, to deal with the ever increasing numbers of contrabands arriving daily, it had been left to him. He was in charge of what the army had loosely dubbed contraband liaison. General Benjamin Butler had recommended him for the post, and he now reported to Colonel John Eaton, tapped by Grant in 1862 to be superintendent of contraband for the Mississippi Valley. Raimond had joined the fight as a member of the famed First Louisiana Native Guard, whose ranks were successors of the highly decorated regiment of free Blacks who had helped Andrew Jackson repel the British during the War of 1812. He’d been transferred to this Georgia camp less than a month ago. Helping contrabands bridge the transition to freedom had not been his reason for going to war, but he knew conditions here would
Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Mrs. Reese and the other laundresses greeted Sable’s return warmly. Everyone was happy to hear Patrick had been reunited with his family, and once Sable finished the story, she dove back into her share of the work. That evening, much to Sable’s surprise, Avery Cole showed up to pay her a visit. With him were his wife Salome and his year-old son Avery the Younger. Salome had tears in her eyes. “I’m so grateful to you, I can’t find the words. If you hadn’t been there to read my words to Avery…” She gave Sable a long hug while Avery, holding the baby, looked on approvingly. Sable had tears in her own eyes too. The woman’s sincerity touched her heart. Avery said, “You know, I’ve been telling folks about you writing that letter for Edward and they all want to know if you’ll do the same for them. There are a lot of people who’d write home if they had somebody to pen the letter. Do you think you could find the time?” Sable thought it over. “I can, but it will have to be after I’m do
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 As she entered the tent, Sable heard, “You’re back awfully late.” The voice belonged to Bridget McKinney. The sight of her sitting up on one of the pallets took Sable by surprise. The tiny stub of a candle burning on a large rock barely illuminated the tent’s interior. “What are you doing here?” “Mrs. Reese found replacements for Sookie and Paige. I asked if I could move in here with you. Dorothy snores like a train. Do you mind?” Sable and Bridget had gotten along fairly well since Sable’s initial arrival, so she replied truthfully, “No, I don’t mind. Paige and Sookie snored something fierce too.” Bridget smiled in the darkness, then asked, “Where do you think those two disappeared to?” Sable shrugged. “So far, the army’s not been able to find out anything. I doubt the theft’s a priority though. It isn’t as if General Sherman can call a halt to the war just to search them out. How well did you know them?” “Not as well as I thought, I guess. I never pegged them as thieves.” “
Chapter 5
Chapter 6 After the yard cleared and Borden stormed away, Sable walked over to the tall, bearded major. “Thank you. I’ve never had a champion before.” “Glad to be of service. Was there a murder?” Put so directly, the question made her wonder for a moment if he’d believed Morse’s claims. “Yes.” “Your father?” She nodded. “Were you involved?” “I was present, but I didn’t cause his death.” “If those two go to my superior officers, I want to be able to argue the truth so I’ll need to hear your side of the story.” “Then ask me to eat dinner with you.” Raimond’s face showed his surprise. “You’re asking to dine with me?” “I thought it might be nice to share your company and to tell you the story too. Is that too forward?” “No, no,” he reassured her. “I find it amazing, is all. I don’t have to beg or slay a dragon in exchange?” “You already have,” she replied softly. “And you were very timely.” “I was already on my way over to see you when I ran into Mrs. Tubman. She was very upset and said yo
Chapter 6
Chapter 7 “How many more?” Raimond asked Andre as he scribbled his signature on yet another camp document. It seemed as if he’d been signing duty rosters, supply requisitions, and field reports all day. “Only five more.” Raimond growled. He detested paperwork. Andre placed another sheaf under Raimond’s pen and waited for him to sign it before giving him another. “I’d’ve thought you’d be in a better mood after your evening with Miss Fontaine.” Raimond did not comment. “You didn’t have a good time?” “Yes, I had a good time.” “Then why the growling?” “Let’s just say I’d hoped for a better time, but my conscience reared its head.” “Your conscience? You have a conscience?” “Evidently I do, and I’m still trying to decide whether I’m proud of it or not.” “Galeno is going to laugh himself sick.” Raimond glared. “He is, you know.” “Don’t talk to me about Galeno. If he hadn’t wished this on me, none of it would be happening.” “Wished what?” “That one day a woman would come along and put me throu
Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Boston, 1865 Sable looked out at the gray March day and yearned for the balmy winters of Georgia. Boston’s frigid temperatures made her wonder if she would ever be warm again. Her employer, Mrs. Jackson, assured her spring would come, but the knee-high snow presently blanketing the street made Sable seriously doubt the claim. She’d been in Massachusetts since late November. The hasty flight she’d taken from Georgia with Bridget and Randolph Baker had culminated here after nearly a month of walking, taking trains, and hitching rides with others fleeing the war. More than once, to her absolute surprise, Baker had donned a Confederate uniform to cross disputed territory, and Bridget and Sable had posed as his slaves. At the time Sable wouldn’t have cared if he’d posed as Mr. Lincoln himself if it helped her escape reenslavement. Raimond LeVeq still weighed heavily on her mind. Every time she thought back, the memory of him lying prone and still on the tent’s dirt floor tore at h
Chapter 8
Chapter 9 By week’s end, Sable had disposed of the last of Verena’s affairs, sold the little house, and decided to accept Juliana’s offer of a place to stay. “This is only temporary,” Sable vowed. Juliana nodded her understanding and led Sable up the wrought-iron staircase to the second floor. “I thought I’d put you in here.” She opened the door and ushered Sable into a large suite. The verandah doors stood open, letting the sun stream in. There was a large canopied bed in the otherwise empty room, but the sense of the previous owner remained strong. “This was Raimond’s room, wasn’t it?” Sable said. Juliana nodded, then stepped in further. “He has his own apartments across town now. I doubt he’ll mind if you stay here.” Sable looked at the woman who wanted to be her mother-in-law and asked, “Juliana LeVeq, what are you about?” Juliana pointed to herself. “Me? Absolutely nothing. I just want you to be comfortable while you’re here.” Sable didn’t believe her for a moment. As Sable walked
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Chapter 9
Chapter 10 The next morning, Sable awakened still close to Raimond’s side. She looked up to find him watching her. Innocent though she’d been, she knew last night had been extraordinary. She sensed that he too had been touched by their passion. “Well?” she offered. She had no idea how to approach him in the fresh light of a new day. “Well, what?” he responded, all the while wanting to pull her atop him so he could kiss her lips and fill his hands with her sunburst bottom. He resisted the urge, telling himself he had no plan to become entrapped by his thieving wife. “What happens now, is what I’m asking,” she explained quietly. Unable to resist touching her any longer, Raimond ran his finger gently down the curve of her spine. “You’ll return to my mother’s home until this house is ready, and I will go back to my own world.” He cupped her bottom and traced the small raised sunbursts. “How old were you when this was done?” Sable forced herself to move away from his too tempting touch. Sit
Chapter 10
Chapter 11 That evening, Drake and Beau came to dine with Juliana and Sable. Everyone had just sat down at the gleaming table when Raimond walked in. “Good evening.” A surprised Juliana said, “Good evening to you too. Have you come to join us?” “I thought I might.” Sable too was surprised by his unprecedented appearance. He’d never dined with them before. She moved her chair to make room for a place beside her. Juliana fetched him a plate from the new china cabinet. Sable was unsure how to act with him so near. The tender and passionate man in her bedroom seemed to bear little resemblance to the formal, unapproachable man she encountered elsewhere. She decided she would simply follow his lead. Over the course of the meal, they discussed the ongoing restoration of the house and its furnishings, and Juliana’s desire to hire a new staff of servants. “I’ve been doing my own cooking since ’63, and truthfully, I’m tired of it,” she confessed. “Mama, I hear Little Reba’s back in the city,” Dr