Jubal Leatherbury: Book II

by Charlotte Thomas March

Overview

In Book I, young Jubal was found hanging in a woodshed near death, the victim of ongoing and horrific abuse at the hands of his mother. Taken from his home in Mobile, Alabama, and given into the care of his grandmother by a panicked father, Jubal grew up in New Orleans, losing all memory of the shocking events of his life before his fifth birthday. As a young adult, he returned to Mobile and met with his mother for the first time. This resulted only in grief for Jubal and for those who loved him.

In 1914, only tax revenue provided more income for the state of Alabama than that provided by the lease of convicts to railroads and to the coal and timber industries. Leased convicts became the property of the leasing company. There were fewer safeguards in place for these prisoners than there had been for former slaves which, in fact, some of them were. They were routinely beaten, starved, and often worked until they died from exhaustion and disease. Their deaths may or may not have been reported along with the request for another prisoner.

As Book II opens, Jubal leaves Mobile, pursuing a business opportunity in the heavily forested hill country of north Alabama. There he encounters the practice of using convict labor in private industry. In his tender, wounded heart, a passion to relieve the suffering of these men is ignited, a passion that would consume and govern him, no matter where it led or what it cost him.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781504339520
Publisher:	Balboa Press
Publication date:	09/30/2015
Pages:	800
Product dimensions:	5.90(w) x 8.80(h) x 2.00(d)

Read an Excerpt

Jubal Leatherbury Book II

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By Charlotte Thomas March

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2015 Charlotte Thomas March
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5043-3952-0

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CHAPTER 1

Esther wrote January 1, 1913, at the top of a letter to her dear friend, Sarah, in Birmingham. She had lined through December 31, 1912, evidence of an earlier beginning. She then continued.

I started writing to you yesterday with an idea of reviewing the events of the past year. I was interrupted by a welcome visit from Maggie and Sally, and this is the first opportunity I've had to begin again. Now I've abandoned the idea of a review — you already know all about 1912. So I'm going for news.

I told you in my last letter that I was almost certain that I'm pregnant. The doctor said he thinks I'm almost three months along, which means that I got pregnant on my honeymoon. I love it! There's a tiny bulge visible without clothes but nothing at all when I'm dressed. Gabriel is trying to contain his joy, but he spends most of the time we're together either touching my tummy or looking at it! Grandmother is sewing, Mama is sewing, and Mother (that's what I've taken to calling Gabriel's mother — she is much too dear to be called Miss Hazel) is sewing. All neutral, of course. Gabriel refuses to say whether he wants a boy or a girl, but I will tell you in secret that I long for a girl.

January 2,

News and more news, my dear Sarah. I didn't even get finished with yesterday's when more and bigger news occurred. I think I'll start with the smaller — good, but smaller. Maggie is dating Harry Palmer! That's what she came to tell me yesterday. I think it's wonderful. I want to say they're so much alike, but it may just be that they have the same joyful spirit. She didn't indicate that it's a serious relationship, but I don't think she would have driven out to tell me about a date or two. I'll keep you posted!

Now, at your request, I haven't been writing about Jubal, but you must have this news. His dear aunt died in November, as you know, and Jubal was her only heir. I don't imagine that she had much money to leave him, but he sold her house to the Catholic Diocese in New Orleans. Now he has invested in a business similar to the Landry operation, in partnership with Barre Johnson, the foreman of the work crew at Landry. Gabriel has told me that they are good friends. Gabriel thinks this is a wonderful chance for Jubal. It's a lumber mill (sawmill?) located near a place called Elizabethtown, a German settlement named for the wife of one of the first immigrants. It's called "Ehren Lumber Company." Ehren apparently means "place of honor" in German. I like that so much. It seems like a good omen. (Forgive me, Dr. Stackhouse.) Elizabethtown is located in the northern part of the state — about a hundred miles north of Birmingham. (I'm not certain about the exact distance.) That means he will be lost to us, Sarah, and to his father, for all practical purposes. I know how much Gabriel will miss him, but he's too happy for him right now to foresee the sadness to come.

I know that you're interested to hear about him, but I have also understood that it's easier for you not to have a constant mention. He knows that you're in Birmingham and something about what you're doing. He and Mr. Johnson will be going back up there after they've completed a notice to the mill here, which I believe will be finished in two more weeks. This is a double loss for Mr. Clyde McGee, who is getting up in years, but Jubal said that both Mr. McGee and the mill owners in New Orleans have been supportive of their bid for the northern Alabama company. Anyway, my dear Sarah, he will be coming through Birmingham and I have suggested that he try to look you up. I can feel you boxing my ears, but I'm going to tolerate the pain. I thought it would be even stranger not to mention that you were in the vicinity — for sure the vicinity he would be passing through. I await your chastisement, but please remember that I'm pregnant.

Love, Esther

PS: Mister gets bigger and naughtier every day. I keep wondering what he'll think another baby!

PPS: I'm sorry to hear about Sharlene's girth. I'll try to let it encourage me to keep my appetite within bounds. Does she seem happy about the baby? My heart breaks for the way her marriage began, but I'm guessing that a baby must bring some measure of happiness and contentment.

She folded the letter and addressed the envelope. She could put it in the box at the road, but she decided to ask Gabriel to mail it tomorrow. She had been curled up in front of a low fire in her room. Mister was lying beside her with as much of his back against her as he could manage.

"Let's go lazy dog," she said. "You're supposed to be playful and full of energy." As if on command, the silky red ball leapt to its feet and began running about the room excitedly. Esther laughed. "Oh, you think we're going out, don't you? Come on then, just for a little while." As she passed the kitchen she called out to Hazel that she was going to the mailbox.

"Because of you, Sarah's letter will be a day later," she chided, but the dog ran happily ahead, showing his unconcern. She let him play fifteen or twenty minutes, and then hurried back inside to help get supper ready.

Hazel smiled at her when she came in. "You are absolutely aglow, girl."

Esther laughed. "I feel wonderful," she said and on an impulse hugged her mother-in-law and kissed her cheek.

"Another month, you think, and I'll feel him moving?"

Hazel smiled at the 'him.' "Is that what the doctor said?" she asked. "The truth is, Esther, I can't remember that sort of thing — what happened when, I mean. What I remember most vividly is when I saw his face. It made up for everything." Hazel realized that she had broken her own rule not to allow anyone to tell Esther scary childbirth stories. They did no good and only served to frighten. Even a girl as brave as Esther wouldn't be immune to it.

"I'm sorry, my dear," she said. "To tell you the truth, Esther, seeing his face is all I remember."

"Don't worry, Mother. You know I'm not afraid."

* * *

In bed that night, Esther snuggled down close to her husband and laid her arm across him. She pulled the bedclothes up closer around them and then replaced her arm.

"Is it too cold in here?" he asked.

"Uh-uh," she murmured and put her hand on his chest inside his pajama shirt.

He knew that she wanted him, but Gabriel was getting uneasy — uneasy enough that he had visited the doctor providing her pre-natal care for advice. "I wondered if there's any particular thing I should do to take care of my wife and the baby. I mean, should I limit, or even avoid sexual activity at any point in the pregnancy?"

"I doubt that many men put much of a brake on their appetites during pregnancy," the doctor answered, "and generally things seem to work out satisfactorily. Is she showing some disinclination?"

"Oh, no," Gabriel said. "No, it isn't that. I know you said before that we could have normal relations as long as it wasn't uncomfortable for her, but ..."

"But you want to know if limiting sex might give the pregnancy a better chance. To that, I think I would have to say yes; however, it might not be the best thing for the marriage."

Gabriel told him that he understood and thanked him. He was going to tell her tonight about the visit and about the possible benefit of some limits, but he should have told her before they came to bed. Saying anything now might feel like rejection, and it was still early. He didn't say anything. He kissed her, held her, loved her and they went to sleep in each other's arms.

Around midnight he was jarred from a deep sleep by a cry. "Gabriel, Gabriel," Esther's voice. "Something is wrong, very wrong. Get your mother, Gabriel. Hurry."

"Esther?"

"Please," she said. "Call your mother."

Gabriel sped down the stairs and knocked loudly at Hazel's door. "Come quickly, Mama," he called. Hazel came to the door pulling on her robe. "It's Esther — something's wrong and she wants you." Hazel hurried up the stairs in front of him, her heart already racing in fear. Esther was rolling about on the bed. Hazel sat down beside her and put her hand on Esther's abdomen. It felt rock hard.

"Gabriel, we need the doctor. Tell him that she's threatening miscarriage but it hasn't happened yet." Esther cried out and wrapped her arms around her abdomen.

"Esther!" Gabriel said, falling on his knees beside the bed. He put his face against hers. "I'm going for the doctor, my love."

She raised her arms and pulled his mouth onto hers. She kissed him quickly two or three times and then said, "Hurry."

He started down the stairs without changing his clothes. Hazel met him coming back up, and handed them to him. She walked quickly back to the bed.

"Am I losing the baby, Mother?" she asked in a whisper.

"I think so, Esther, but I don't know for sure. Are you bleeding?"

"I don't feel anything — just pain, pain, unbearable pain. I thought labor pains came and went. This is constant." She broke off in another long, loud cry.

"Relax as much as you can, my dear," Hazel said, when she thought Esther was able to hear. "Think 'endure,' Esther. Speak the word into the pain — not aloud, into the pain. Endure ... say it slowly ... stretch it out. I remember doing that."

She was quiet for a minute or so and Hazel knew that she was trying. However, the effort seemed to fail and for the next hour Hazel comforted her as much as she knew how, keeping a cool cloth on her forehead and speaking gently when panic seemed to grip the girl writhing on the bed. At last she tensed and cried out, a long wail, at the end of which she said, "I feel something now, wetness ..." Hazel drew the covers back and folded one sheet beneath her. She hurried to the bathroom and came back with an armload of towels, one of which she also put beneath her. Esther was cooperative, moving as requested. She was crying, but she wasn't screaming anymore.

"It's done, my love," Hazel said. "The baby is lost."

Esther was shaking violently and Hazel knew that she had to get her warm. She pulled the bedclothes free from the bottom of the bed and covered her from the waist up. "Keep your arms inside the covers," she said softly. Then she stoked up the last of the embers in the fireplace and added a log. She returned to Esther and began a gentle massage of her abdomen. She was crying quietly now.

"I'm going to change the towel under you, Esther. I need to see how much bleeding there is." She blotted up as much as she could — enough to determine that the bleeding was slowing. She folded a clean towel lengthwise and put it between her legs as she pulled the blood soaked bedding from beneath her. She replaced that with a double fold of clean towels. Then she pulled the bedclothes down to cover the lower half of her body.

"Esther, I'm going to massage your abdomen some more. It can help stop the bleeding. The worst is past. Now we'll just have to deal with our grief."

"Oh, Mother," Esther said. She spoke through flowing tears. "He's going to think it's his fault."

"His fault?" Hazel asked. "You mean Gabriel?"

Esther nodded. "He's been afraid that making love to me might not be good for the baby. He hasn't said anything but he's been ... cautious. I knew he was afraid, but I couldn't leave him alone. Now he's going to think that he caused it."

Hazel handed her a small towel to wipe her face.

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be saying that to you."

"Our guards are down right now," Hazel said. "I'll speak with the doctor and see that he forcefully manages that misunderstanding. You don't need to say any more about it — to me or to anyone else. Let me have one more look." She pulled down the towel to find that it needed changing but that the blood flow was not excessive.

"They're here, my dear," she said. "I'm going to meet them downstairs."

Gabriel met her on the staircase, the disheveled looking doctor behind him. "Let me pass, Gabriel. You go to her and I'll speak with the doctor down here first." He stepped back to let her pass, and then hurried on up the stairs.

The doctor followed Hazel into the kitchen, where she showed him the blood stained towels. They both turned when they heard a loud cry, but it was a cry of grief not of pain.

"It's done then," he said. Hazel nodded in agreement. "And the bleeding is slowing?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I'll have a look at her, but you know there isn't really much I can do."

"There is one other thing, before you go up." Hazel told him her entire conversation with Esther, using her words as far as she remembered them.

"She was right that he was afraid. He was in my office today asking me about it. I'll do what's needed to see that there's no unnecessary guilt over this loss and no unnecessary deprivation in the future."

Hazel did not accompany him upstairs. She set to work to remove all visual evidence of the night's suffering and loss.

* * *

That was Wednesday. On Saturday, Jubal came to see her. She was still in bed but Gabriel had fashioned a bolster that allowed her to maintain a sitting position comfortably.

"You look fine," Jubal said. "Maybe a little peaked around the eyes." He smiled to say 'not really.'

"I am fine," she said, "but I'm being a good obedient girl and staying in bed."

"Whom are you obeying?" he asked.

"The doctor, my husband, and my mother-in-law," she answered.

He moved his chair a little closer and picked up her hand. "I'm so sorry, Esther," he said. "I know how much you both wanted the baby." Tears started to trickle down her cheeks.

He didn't speak and after a minute she said, "You must have been warned about this." She indicated her tears by wiping them away.

"I was," he answered. "But I decided I wouldn't let it keep me from speaking to you sincerely."

She held his hand tightly. "I'm glad of it — glad they don't scare you off."

"No," he said. "I don't scare that easily."

"The doctor has said there's no explanation for why it happened this time and no reason to be afraid it will happen again."

"Good," he said.

"Miss Hazel has been wonderful. She took care of me; she's a very strong person. Gabriel is suffering deeply, but he may have hidden it from you."

"I've seen his suffering, Esther, but I think it's more for you than over his lost child."

"I believe that," she said. "Miss Hazel sent him at once for the doctor. I was so glad he wasn't here. I wasn't very brave. If he'd been here, I'm afraid he might not have allowed me another chance."

Jubal laughed. "So you think banning fathers from the birthing chamber is a good practice?"

"Oh, I do," she said. "They can't do anything, hovering about, and the poor mother has to bear their suffering, too. No, completely out of earshot is best." She was smiling but he knew that she was serious.

"I was coming today anyway, to hear your thoughts on my adventure," he said. "Shall we speak of it, or have you had enough time to think about it at all?"

"I've certainly thought about it, but I'm guided totally by what Gabriel and your father say, and by your own opinion, of course. My personal view is of our loss, but I'm completely in support of whatever you do and wish you the greatest success."

Gabriel came into the room carrying a tray with a coffee pot, some cups, and an assortment of goodies. Jubal squeezed her hand and laid it beside her to take the cup Gabriel offered.

"I've worked myself into being excited about it," he told her. "The personal loss is real to me, too, but it isn't across the ocean or anything. And train service is better and better."

"Sarah writes me that Birmingham is beautiful — green like Mobile, but with a different kind of woods," Esther told him.

"It's more industrialized," he said, "with some of the dinginess that comes with that."

"Tell me something about Elizabethtown. I like the name." She smiled.

"I do, too," Jubal said. "It's actually quite mountainous. It seems odd to find such different terrain in the same state. I think you would call it picturesque."

"Sarah says there are distinct seasons — snow in winter, color in fall."

"Yes, but the snow in winter may not be the best thing for our business. Pretty, though," he added. There had been a dusting of snow when he and Barre were there last, with the promise of more to come.

"Have you noticed, Esther," he said, looking around, "how much this room is like my cabin?"

She smiled widely. "Of course I have," she said. "Influence of the same designer and artisan."

"That's true," he agreed. "You may not know that I finished out that cedar closet, practically single handed."

"He did," Gabriel agreed. "He also helped with the flooring and all the finish work."

"I'm glad I got to see it in use, although the occasion for it grieves me." Tears welled up in Esther's eyes, unremarked but not unseen.

"When will you go? Do you have any sort of schedule yet?"

"Actually, I leave on Wednesday. Barre will follow in a week or maybe two. I'll have my things shipped when I have a place to stay."

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Jubal Leatherbury Book II by Charlotte Thomas March. Copyright © 2015 Charlotte Thomas March. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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