Chapter 5

Later that afternoon, as they were walking their horses through the woods, Rebecca pulled her mount up beside Phileas, who was acting as back guard. The others were far enough ahead of them to not be able to hear their conversation. "Isn't it poor of you to goad the man like that? He is acting as our guide, after all."

Phileas sighed. What have I done to make her believe I would condone hen-pecking from a fiancé?

"He gave as good as he got," Phileas said. "I don't like his manner toward us–or you."

Rebecca did not answer right away. She had noticed that her exhibition had commended her more than intended. "You might consider not introducing me as your cousin to strangers if my attracting admiration bothers you. A widower in this remote place likely looks at all women as prospects. Calling me cousin might have given him the wrong idea of our relationship."

Phileas's sense of fairness allowed that she might be right. He made a mental note not to call her cousin anymore.

This damned jealous streak cropping up at the wrong times. Rebecca is a beautiful woman. She has always garnered admiration. While I don't and have never liked it, I had best learn to control my reaction to it. At least until I can announce our engagement and discourage it.

Rebecca sensed Phileas's subdued mood. Had their engagement been announced, this would never have come up. She reached across the distance and touched his sleeve for a moment. He looked over to her and all tension and jealousy fled as he drank in the promises on her face.

It was not until the next day, late afternoon, that they found the trail by the railroad tracks. Skirting it to the left, the riders moved slowly through the woods with a screen of thick brush between themselves and the trail. Phileas did not like the terrain. It reminded him too much of riding through another forest trail west of Matagorda. The bugs were just as vicious, but nothing yet felt like the attack of chiggers he had suffered.

Phileas saw the brothers ahead of him stop, bend over, and pull leaves from a bush.

"Jules, over here," Matt called. He removed more leaves and handed them to Jules.

Phileas rode up to see what they were doing.

"Mr. Fogg, here. Take these and some for Miss Fogg." Matt said. "Crush the leaves in your hands and get the oil on your skin and wipe it over your clothes. It keeps mosquitoes and other bugs away."

"Thank you." Phileas took the handful of leaves, catching the scent of the oils. He backtracked, handing some to Rebecca, who rubbed herself down as he did.

Jason watched, grinning. "Nice of the boys to share that."

After several hours of riding, the gate the twins had seen on their first visit came into view. Oddly, there was no guard at it.

Instead of walking up to the front door, Phileas led a quiet review of the perimeter. He, Jason, and Jules went to the left, while Rebecca and the twins went right. Rebecca's group found no guards for several minutes. Keeping to the brush, they passed the ruins of a burned-out building. Matthew told her it might have been used for cotton storage in the past. The fire looked to have been recent.

Rebecca didn't try to investigate. The area was too open.

They continued, passing by the old cotton fields. Presently, the only cotton plants in evidence were along the perimeter growing wild. In the field, to the other side of a split-rail fence, was nothing but tall weeds.

"What are those weeds, Matt?" Rebecca said. "I've seen it before."

"Weeds?" Mark questioned. "Whatever it is, isn't native. It looks tropical."

"Really?" Rebecca commented in surprise. "Are you saying you think it was deliberately planted?"

"If this field were fallow," Matt explained, "there would be little hard woods springing up all over. That and so many berry vines you couldn't walk through it. Those things must have been planted."

With her curiosity aroused, Rebecca, Matt, and Mark scouted the field for a closer look while the others stayed back. To her, everything looked like weeds. Or perhaps something a relative in England had planted for decoration but decided against later. The plants were ten to twelve feet tall with wide, fanned leaves similar to the plants around the kitchen building in France.

They left their horses to walk into the jungle of foliage, accepting its cover while making their inspection. Once under the dense plants, they could tell they were planted in rows like corn or cotton. Most all the plants looked mature. The deep shadows under the foliage gave way to sunshine as Matt, who was ahead, broke through to the over side. Looking out, he found new plantings that were only two feet tall. Those did not look to be well tended.

"If they are trying to keep these things alive, the workers are doing a poor job of it," Mark said. "I don't know what they are, but a plant short on water looks like this. Ma would have killed us when we were kids, if we let her garden get this dry." Rebecca knew very little about gardening, but she agreed that the smaller plants didn't look healthy.

She led the twins back out of the field, continuing around the plantation edge. A large barn obscured from sight by trees came into view as they came around the far corner. Here, there was more activity. Black laborers were carrying bags from the barn to a wagon. There were six wagons to be loaded. Only two had been loaded.

"Want to know what's in there?" Mark said to Rebecca.

Accepting an affirmative, Mark snuck in closer, under the cover of brush and a woodpile, to one of the two loaded wagons. He reached into a bag and came back quickly. Once safe again, he dropped a handful of large, dark, mottled seeds into Rebecca's hand. They were all a size, but none had markings exactly alike.

"Does this look like anything you two know?" Rebecca said.

Both boys shook their heads negatively.