Chapter 36:
Jean smiled as she watched Bobby trying to drag her reluctant mare around the side of the house toward the front door, where she and Scott were waiting. "See, I told you Angel doesn't like riding either," she told Scott smugly. "Please, instead of riding, could we go out in the carriage instead?"
Scott grinned down at her and shook his head. "You need the fresh air," he said. "And Angel's been sitting out in the back paddock for almost a week now. She needs the exercise." Jean pouted. He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips.
Bobby gave Angel's reins a last yank, pulling the unwilling horse up to the steps. "I don't know what's wrong with her, Jean!" he exclaimed, his little face puffy with exertion. "She's not usually this stubborn!"
Jean ruffled Bobby's hair. "I'm sorry she's not behaving for you," she said. She brandished her riding crop in the horse's face. 'Now come on, you're supposed to behave for Bobby!" The horse swished her tail irritably and shifted her weight to her other hind foot.
"Hey, Jean, hold it," Scott said slowly. His eyes fixed intently on Angel's middle, he walked around to the front of the horse, and squinted. Was that a slight, barely-noticeable bulge in her sides? He reached out to her flank when he got close to her hindquarters, and instead of the usual soft organs, he felt a small lump, a hardness, in Angel's belly. His eyes widened, and he stood, scratching his head. "Well, looks like you're not going to be doing any riding on her for a while," he said. "Angel's pregnant."
"She's what?" Jean yelped. "She's pregnant? How? I thought all the male horses in the riding stables were gelded."
"Except that devil horse Remy rides," Scott reminded her grumpily. "He's the only possible suspect. Guess we'll forestall the riding today, Jean. You're reprieved. Bobby, let's take the horses back to the stables and get them untacked, and then I want to take Angel down to the breeding stable and pick out another mare for Jean. She's not going to get over her fear of horses if she does nothing but avoid them."
"Yes sir," Bobby said, taking Scott's horse's reins and leading him off. Scott took Angel's reins, and together they got the horses back to the riding stables.
Scott led Angel into the mares' barn. "Hey!" he called. It seemed deserted, no one was there, but a grizzled, gray head poked out of the tack room. "Mister Scott, sir!" John got up off the tack bench quickly and came out to meet him. "What be wrong with Missy Jean's horse now, then?"
Scott grinned at the older man. "Remy's devil horse got Angel in foal," he said cheerily. 'I figured I'd bring Angel to the breeding stables and take a look at what else we might have that's suitable for Jean to ride." He looked around the stable. "Where's the new mare and yearling manager?"
John looked grave as he took Angel's halter rope from Scott. 'I was going to head for the big house to talk to you about that, sir," he said. "Walk with me while I turn Angel out in the breeding pasture, if you will?"
"Certainly," Scott said. As the two men started for the pasture, Scott said worriedly, 'Charles and Remy both have a lot of confidence in her ability to handle the horses. Was that confidence misplaced?"
John threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Misplaced? I'd say not! That boy Andrew's been trying to train the black filly to bridle and saddle for weeks, and hain't managed the trick yet! Then little Missy Jubilee come in yesterday, and by sunset she had the filly walking, trotting, and galloping on command in full tack!" He chuckled once, and subsided. "There you go," he said, taking the lead rein off the halter and patting the horse. "A few months of rest for you while that there baby gets big." Looking considerably happier, Angel trotted off into the paddock to join the other broodmares.
"So what is the problem?" Scott asked as the mare started to graze.
"Andrew's the problem," John said, all levity gone from his voice. "He plays the little lord with the maids and the other girl hands, but it ain't usually my problem. This time, though, he's getting heavy-handed with Missy Jubilee, and I don't like that. He give her a switching last night."
"WHAT!" Several of the mares shied sideways in the paddock as Scott's enraged yell drifted downwind to them. He lowered his voice as several of the stable hands turned to look at him. "He did what?"
"Andrew told Missy Jubilee he was a freeman, and she was still a slave till her papers come in, and she should fix her attitude before Master Charles has her whipped. She got angry with him and sassed him back, and he took a riding crop and switched her legs like some naughty schoolgirl. Then he told her not to tell anyone. Said he'll let her attitude go this time with just his correction, but if she does it again he'll have Master Charles order her whipping."
"We don't whip the former slaves here, and Andrew knows that," Scott snapped angrily. "She was free as soon as she crossed the border with Remy, and he knows that too. Just because she doesn't have papers yet doesn't mean she's still a slave."
"Andrew knows that, for sure," John said amiably. "But Missy Jubilee hasn't been here long enough to know that."
"She did seem a little quiet at the dinner table last night," Scott said thoughtfully. "Why didn't she tell one of us what happened, or tell Remy?"
"Because if she tells anyone they'll know she done something wrong, and when you're a slave, the free man's word is always taken for truth. She can say she was just minding her own business, but if we was back in the states, and a Master found out that she'd received a switching from a free overseer, he'd order her a whipping to enforce her belief that what she did was wrong. Missy Jubilee terrified of whips, I could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes."
Scott shook his head grimly. "All right. Thanks for telling me, John. I'll talk to Remy, and we'll talk to Jubilee about it. Then Charles and I will decide what to do with Andrew." He studied the mares in the field. "Now, which one would be suitable for Jean to ride?"
"Hello!" came a cheerful call from behind them. Scott and John both turned, and saw Jubilee coming up with Shadowcat on a lead rein behind her. "I took her out for some lunge line training. What's going on?"
Scott put a cheerful smile on his face and told her, "Remy's devil horse got Jean's mare pregnant. I have to find Jean another horse."
Jubilee thought quickly. "Most of the mares we have are in foal already, or nursing. We don't have many available…" She snapped her fingers suddenly. "Betsy."
"Huh?"
"My horse…or rather, the horse Remy bought for me at the New York horse fair. Papa was the one who bred my horse Thunder to one of his mares, and we got Betsy. She's a mare. She's got a smooth gait, she's fast, and she's very smart. She'll know Jean's afraid of her, and she'll do her best not to make that fear worse. She's perfect for Jean."
"But if she was on your papa's ranch, won't you want to keep her?" Scott asked.
Jubilee shook her head firmly. "I'm a slave. Slaves don't own property. She's not my horse, any more than this is my home. Besides," she patted the Arabian filly, "Shadowcat's going to be my preferred mount from now on, till Remy decides he wants me to give her back." She opened the gate to the paddock, oblivious to Scott's sharp-eyed stare, and took the lead rein off the halter. Shadow went flying off across the paddock, and Jubilee gave a piercing whistle.
Scott was still trying to clear his ears of that high-pitched sound when a lovely mare came running in answer to that whistle. She skidded to a stop in front of the fence, nuzzled Jubilee's hand, then her apron pockets. Jubilee laughed. "No carrots today, Betts," she said, running her fingers through the tangled forelock. "Betts, Jean doesn't have a mount because her mare got pregnant. Will you carry Jean?" The horse whuffed, an uncertain sound. Jubilee patted the velvety nose. "She's just like me, but she's scared of horses. You can make her forget that fear, can't you? Sure you can." She rested her forehead against the horse's nose, silently saying goodbye to her favorite mare, and the last link to her Papa, then clipped the lead rein to the halter and took Betsy through the gate.
"Here you go," she said to Scott. "She and Angel are about the same size, maybe a little thinner in girth, but the tack should still fit. If it doesn't, send Bobby down with Jean's tack and I'll replace it with Betsy's tack." She smiled. "Jean told me we're starting the apple picking this afternoon, after dinner. I have some things I have to do here, so I may not be in for dinner, but I will be in the orchard picking with everyone else." She hopped the fence and took off across the field. Scott thought he saw the red tracery of a welt across the back of her leg, but he wasn't sure.
"We need to talk."
Remy frowned as he looked up from the bag he was finally getting around to unpacking. Setting the little paper-wrapped package he'd brought all the way north from Missouri on his dressing-table top, he turned to face Scott. "Oui, homme?"
Scott leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. "It's about Jubilee."
The frown lines between Remy's eyebrows deepened as he said, "What wrong?"
Scott told him, briefly, about what John had told him Andrew had done the previous night. Remy sat on the bed hard, anger clouding his vision. How dare Andrew do that? To his Jubilee, no less? "I'm going to go find that--"
Scott grabbed Remy's sleeve as the other man went past him. "Easy there, brother. Let's find out what actually happened, okay? She said she was coming apple picking with us this afternoon; she should be by soon."
Sure enough, moments later they heard Jubilee's footsteps in the hall. Scott waited until she was almost at Remy's door, then said, 'Jubilee, come here for a minute."
She stuck her head in, and saw Remy and Scott standing there. "What's wrong?" she asked, puzzled.
"Did Andrew give you a switching last night?" Remy said, anger at Andrew making his voice sound harsher than he intended it to. Jubilee dropped her eyes, and fell to her knees.
"I'm sorry, please, please don't tell Charles, he'll have me given a whipping! I just…I didn't agree with something Andrew did, and I told him so, and he pointed out that I'm still a slave until those papers come in and I have to remember that. I'm not a free woman, and I shouldn't behave like one." She dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap, and Remy, unable to stand seeing her mental anguish any longer, pulled her upright to a standing position and hugged her tightly.
"Chere," he whispered into her dark hair, "Please, Remy not mad at you. Remy mad at Andrew. He don't have no right to do dat to you. Don' cry, please, darling, don' cry." He went to one knee, reached for the hem of her dress, and pulled it up.
If she had been wearing the frothy petticoats he wouldn't have seen it, but she was still dressed for stable work, and the five red welts on the sensitive skin behind her knees were clear. Remy sucked in a breath. "Chere…"
"It's all right. It doesn't hurt," she said quietly. 'They stung right after he hit me, but now I'm okay."
"Listen to me, Jubilee," Scott said, catching her eye. "As soon as you crossed the border with Remy, you were free. It does not matter that you don't have papers to prove it. You're free. You don't need to kneel to anyone. And Charles has never allowed the use of a whip on his property on any person. He doesn't believe in slavery. Andrew had no right to do what he did, no right to say what he did to you. I'll have a talk with Charles about him. I don't like him, John doesn't like him, Charles doesn't like him, but we don't have anyone else qualified to work with the horses. In the meantime, while we decide what to do, ignore him. Do what you need to do with the horses, train the yearlings the way you feel they should be handled, and don't obey any commands from him. If he threatens you, tell one of us. Please?"
She nodded slowly.
