Because of Rebecca - By Leanne Tyler Page 0,13

the bed and standing up as quickly as she could.

The sudden movements made her sway, and she found herself clutching at the doctor’s arms as he steadied her.

“Miss Josephine!” Charlotte rushed to her side.

“Hush girl,” Josephine snapped, staring into the doctor’s amber-colored eyes. The room seemed to spin, and her breathing became shallow as he slowly eased her to a sitting position on the bedside.

“I’d suggest you refrain from sudden movements until you loosen your corset.”

“Yes, doctor.” She swallowed hard and took a closer look at him. Despite his salt and pepper hair around the temples, he wasn’t as old as she’d first thought when he entered the suite.

“I’ll leave you a few packets of powders you can take if the headaches become too unbearable. But I’d recommend my other suggestions first.”

“Yes.” She slowly nodded. “I’ll consider your suggestion.”

“You do that. I’ll check on you later in the week.” He closed his bag.

Josephine watched him leave and then fell back on the pillows, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Heavens above!

Chapter Four

Heat from the summer sun beat down upon their heads as the open Victorian carriage pulled up outside the manor house at Oak Hill. Rebecca stared in awe from beneath the shade of her parasol at the splendor of the large two-story home before her.

“Amazing,” she breathed, counting the windows on the upper floor. The house had two circular verandahs, one on each level.

“Did you say something?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked.

“I thought the Calhoun’s home was the most elaborate I’d seen, but Oak Hill is astounding,” she explained as the carriage slowed to a stop.

“Is that a fact?” He grinned. “Bigger isn’t always better, but the extra room is helpful when holding a ball or barbeque.”

“I can imagine the elegance of a ball given at Oak Hill.”

He descended the carriage step and helped her down. “Yes. When my mother was alive, she was the best hostess around Jackson. Let’s have a bit of refreshment and get Master Lucas out of the sun.”

“That sounds divine.” Rebecca slipped her arm through his as they walked to the verandah. “Perhaps Charlotte can use your swing to rock Lucas to sleep?”

“Certainly,” he agreed. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll go see about something to quench our thirst.”

While he was gone, Rebecca explored the perimeter of the house as she walked along the portico. Studying the large baskets of ferns hanging from the eaves and the inviting, yet protective, foliage planted close to the porches’ edge, she wondered how many gardeners it took to keep the grounds looking so perfect. She knew Mr. Hollingsworth used hired labor on his land, which did not come as cheap as purchasing laborers at auction. If appearances meant anything, Mr. Hollingsworth was a wealthy man. Yet he risked it all to help those in bondage by the color of their skin. That fact alone held her in awe of him.

With all the excitement over Josephine’s ailment she’d almost forgotten to discuss Ruth’s plight further with him. She had to keep her head about her and mention it to him again at the first opportune moment.

Walking back to the front of the house, she smiled at her maid who held a sleeping Lucas in her arms.

“Couldn’t you imagine living here, Charlotte?” she asked, stopping about a yard away.

“That I could, miss.” The young maid looked relaxed as the swing moved back and forth. “The cottage is nice, but living on a plantation would be a world different for us.”

Rebecca nodded. “Lucas could run and play to his heart’s content during the summers.”

“That he could.”

She sighed, leaning her back against the stoop post. “A place like this comes with much responsibility. I suppose that is why I have a small place in Memphis. It’s enough to keep a body from being weary.”

“Being weary from what?” Jared asked, coming up behind where she stood staring out over his land. Tightness formed in his chest at the memory of his late wife doing the same on many occasions. He suddenly missed her desperately. And he wondered what he’d been thinking bringing Miss Davis and her son to Oak Hill. Was he really ready to forge forward and put his past behind him?

“Goodness, Mr. Hollingsworth, you startled me,” Miss Davis said, her cheeks flushed. “I was being wistful. Speaking my thoughts aloud and no doubt, boring poor Charlotte with my prattle.”

“Ah, I see,” Jared replied, smiling. “My housekeeper will be out shortly with lemonade.”

He pushed his previous thoughts away as he offered