Captured (In Love) Ch. 02

A/N: This dialogue is used to reflect the time period and make it as realistic as possible. It is not to offend people the wrong way. If you still feel offended after reading it, please don't write me about it because I'm warning you before reading the passage. Thanks!

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-Light Heart-

Light Heart had been captured in that snowy forest about two weeks ago. It was hard for her to keep track of the days or the time. She ached for her mother and wondered how her sister had fared. She was almost certain Walking Light would have made it home but unfortunately, the medicine had been on her person and she didn't know if Song Jay's condition had gotten better or worse.

After being pawned from one buyer to the next, she had ended up somewhere down south. It was the place her father would rarely speak of and she figured it was probably too horrific for him to relive. All she knew was that she feared everything and everyone. It was all so foreign to her.

So many pale skinned people. It frightened her. Most of them looked at her with disdain and hatred and the few that didn't, didn't seem to notice her all together. She had been grouped with her father's people in cramped cages with very little to eat and even less to bathe with.

It had only been today that she was given water to bathe... if one would call it that. She was stripped of all her deerskins along with the other girls who had been captured and had to stand there while a man threw river cold water on them. She waited for someone to give them something to wear but they never received anything except for a large block of metal that fastened around their necks. Each collar linked with a chain that could be used to pull at will by the pale skinned man.

Light Heart tried to be strong and not let her fear cause her to fall into hysteria. Other girls were silently crying and some were speaking in a language in hushed tones that she couldn't decipher. Her father had learned English and later the language of her mother's tribe. Light Heart had learned both from respective parents.

"Come on girl. Move," a man snarled, yanking at her chain. She felt vulnerable in her nakedness and tried to hide her body but the tug at her neck led her out of the makeshift tent that housed the girl slaves. The sun shone brightly and the birds chirped happily belying a pleasant day. It was unusually warm for this time of year and it made her wonder exactly how far away she was from home.

She followed the man up the wooden stairs, feeling her face heat up from embarrassment from the dozens of eyes gazing at her. Her head hung down, too ashamed to raise it until her father and mother came to mind. Her tribe. Her family. She would never be ashamed of who she was. She was her father's daughter. A man, who had been a slave, paid for his freedom and became his own man.

Light Heart raised her head just has she came to the middle of the platform and looked straight on into the distance, ignoring the leers and jeers from the crowd. The sun beamed on her naked form and the humidity caused a small sheen to form on her caramel skin. The collar made her neck itch and a pesky fly was buzzing incessantly around her ear but she remained still as a stone, looking straight ahead in all her naked splendor.

"Now right hea, I've got a fine chickadee," a voice to her right stated, his voice dripping in some accent she hadn't heard before. "I've got a half injin beauty that's never been plucked that's right for the pickin. She'd be good for some fun and I guarantee you, if my name ain't Jimmy Jones, she'll give you some good chil'lin to help with them crops if you pair her with a strong buck. Them hips are made for child bearin', I guarantee it."

Light Heart continued to look ahead, trying to ignore the stammer of her heart in her chest. Child bearing? And what kind of fun was he talking about? She struggled to stay calm and wished she could fly away like birds were off in the horizon.

"Let's start this biddin' at $500. Can I get $500?" he started.

"$500," a man's voice to her right called out.

"$550," another called. The crowd murmured with the sounds of light talk of the "injin beauty" before them and the fluttering of southern ladies fans to ward off the heat.

"$575," one competed.

"$600," another man wagered.

The bidding had a pregnant pause and the seller stepped up closer to her right and gestured down at her body.

"Come on folks," he tried to persuade, while mopping his brow with the soiled handkerchief in his hand. "This gal has no markings on her, nice set of teeth, and no signs of sickness. She'd be good as a lady's maid or help in them kitchens. Don't let this catch go by now."

"$650," the first voice countered.

"$800," another man fired.

Women twittered and fluttered their fans harder. "$1000," the first man called easily.

"$1000," the seller repeated happily. "Well Tom, I reckon that boss of yours needs a new wench huh?"

Light Heart couldn't help but turn her eyes to the man named Tom who had just offered $1000 for her. He wasn't much to look at with a wide rimmed black hat, a white loose shirt and dark pants. He lazily had a cigar hanging from his mouth and glanced around to see if anyone else would counter his offer.

No one objected and after all the necessities were out the way, she soon found herself in the possession of Tom, bought and paid for in the sum of $1000. The cost of her freedom.

Light Heart had been given a brown burlap oversized shirt to wear but her collar was left on. She was now at a huge estate that she could only gaze at in wonder. She was left standing at the front of a massive house on the steps while Tom went inside to fetch someone. Moments later, she stood face to face with an attractive pale faced woman in a concoction of laces and silks and a fan attached to her hand.

"Is this her then Tom?" she asked, eyeing her up and down.

"Yes ma'am," he answered, holding his hat in his hands.

The mistress of the house stepped outside from the see-through door and stepped closer to her. She circled around her until she was facing her again.

"How old are you?" she demanded to know.

Light Heart debated whether to answer or not. She was undecided if she should cooperate or refuse to do anything but thinking that refusing would only cause her more pain and heartache and interfere with her plans of escaping, she decided to make the most of what she was given and worry about escape when the moment presented itself.

"Nineteen seasons," she answered.

The woman stared at her some more. "You could've gotten someone uglier," she told Tom.

"My apologies Mrs. Carlton," Tom said, bowing his head.

"What do they call you?" she asked her.

"Light Heart."

The woman tsked. "No no no. We won't be having you walking about without a good sound Christian name, will we?" Light Heart knew that wasn't a question directed to her, so she kept quiet. "Of course not," Mrs. Carlton answered herself.

She was quiet for a few moments and then smiled the most insincere smile Light Heart had ever seen. "We shall call you Ruth, because wherever I go, you will go."

Light Heart had no idea what that meant but she hated the name. She hated everything it stood for. It meant even more that she wasn't home. That this was not her land or her people.

"Come Ruth. You are to be my maid. I'll take you to Ms. Patricia so she can see to your things."

Light Heart followed her and was taken aback when Mrs. Carlton's hand struck her cheek.

"When I address you, you will always say 'Yes Ma'am.' Do I make myself clear?"

Dazed, Light Heart nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"That goes for my daughter, my son or my husband."

"Yes ma'am," Light Heart acknowledged, following her again down a hall and ending up at a kitchen where a tall older woman stood near a counter kneading what appeared to be dough. Silver streaks ran through her hair that was tied neatly in a bun and hinted at her maturity. Her black clothes were starched underneath an apron that was riddled with flour and some other stain that Light Heart couldn't distinguish.

"Ms. Patricia, this is Ruth. She'll be my new maid. See to it that she gets the proper clothing as well as all of her duties explained to her," Mrs. Carlton told her. Light Heart noted that when she spoke to Ms. Patricia, the coldness wasn't in her voice anymore.

"Yes ma'am," the older woman said, wiping her hands on her apron and eyeing Light Heart.

"Alright then. Dinner at six," Mrs. Carlton reminded her before making her leave.

Light Heart stood in the kitchen alone with Ms. Patricia, who looked her up and down and then gave her a warm hearted smile.

"Have you been a personal maid before child?" she asked gently.

"No ma'am," Light Heart answered, relaxing under Ms. Patricia's warm friendly gaze.

"I would've been Mrs. Carlton's maid but working here in the kitchen and following her around all day was too much for these bones to take. She finally didn't want to see me working so hard, so she persuaded Mr. Carlton to come out his pockets and get her a new girl."

Ms. Patricia motioned for her to follow as she made her way through the house and fetched Light Heart her clothes.

"Have you been here long?" Light Heart asked.

"Most of my life. I was Mrs. Carlton's nanny when I was twenty and she was five. When she got older, her mama passed away and she didn't want me leavin' too so her daddy let me stay on. After she got married to Mr. Carlton, she had me come here with her in this big house to run things."

That explained why Mrs. Carlton's tone changed when she talked to Ms. Patricia.

"Ms. Patricia-"

"Pat," she interrupted. "The rest of the folks call me Pat when she's not around. You best do the same."

"Pat," she started again, "Don't you ever want to leave?"

Pat stopped walking and sighed heavily. Light Heart noticed the fine lines on her otherwise smooth rich brown skin. "Child, I've been on this earth for sixty years. If the good Lord didn't see fit me for to leave all that time, I don't recon I'm supposed to."

She started walking up a long flight of stairs. "Besides," she continued, "my Samuel is here with me and I'm better off than most. We were promised never to be separated. He's Mr. Carlton's driver."

Pat stopped at the top of the stairs and pulled down a ladder that led to an attic. "You'll be staying up there."

"But where will you be?"

"Most of us stay outside in the shacks you might've seen out yonder on your way here. You have to stay here if'in Mrs. Carlton needs you."

"Oh," she said, disappointed to be away from her only friend so far.

"Don't worry. I'm here before the sun comes up every mornin' to make breakfast," Pat assured her.

Light Heart started up the stairs to put her clothes on and dreaded being alone with Mrs. Carlton.

--Jack--

Jack lay in bed with his eyes closed listening to the sounds of the south outside his bedroom window. He has been in New York the past few months and missed the quietness from time to time. He also missed not having his ears and nose frozen from the bitter cold.

He had come home for his last break before graduation from college. Two more months and he could call himself a lawyer. The day couldn't come soon enough. In the meantime, he spent his days working at a prestigious law firm gaining incredible insight and soaking up as much as he could from the more seasoned lawyers.

Now he lay in bed awaiting a gathering his stepmother was throwing to welcome him and his father home who was returning from Washington DC. His father was heavily into politics and with the talk of slaves becoming free; it became the subject matter in most conversations. His father was at the forefront trying to preserve the way of life for the south. After living in New York for so long, Jack wasn't certain his father was on the right side on this one.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts and before he could answer, his half sister Sophia opened the door, her blond curls bouncing as she bounded into his room. "Papas home," she said gleefully. Jack knew the glee was moreso aimed at the gift that she undoubtedly would receive from their father than actually seeing him. "Hurry. You know he's been dying to see you."

With a heavy sigh, knowing that she wouldn't be that easy to get rid of, he followed her down the hall and the flight of stares to greet their father. On his way down, he observed how his younger sister, seventeen years old and nine years his junior, was growing into a lovely young lady and he realized that before long, she would be off married and starting her own family. It suddenly made him feel older than his twenty-six years and wondered how and when the time flew by.

"There's my son! Come on now and give your ol' man a hug," Derrick Carlton boomed jovially, embracing his only boy. He was tall and sturdy with dark blond hair the color of wheat that had shocks of gray at the temples. He had gained a few extra pounds around the midsection, thanks to Ms. Patricia's pound cakes and sugar cookies, but he was still a handsome man and he knew it.

"Goodness Derrick, you'll startle the horses with all that noise," his stepmother chided.

"Nonsense woman. It's not everyday a man sees his son on the threshold of his career into the law. I'll startle the horses if I want to and I'll have no word out of you about it," he said, smiling at his son.

"It's good to see you too father," Jack said, after his old man released him from his embrace. He honestly meant it too. Before his mother died from influenza, he had a close relationship with his father and after her death; it was just the two of them, which made their bond grow even stronger.

After hugs were given and Sophia squealed over new bauble their father had purchased in Washington, they all headed to the dining room to have dinner.

Ms. Patricia came out of the kitchens with a ham topped prettily with pineapples on the good china. "Now this looks like food fit for a king. You outdid yourself Ms. Patricia," his father praised, tucking a napkin under his chin.

"Thank you Masta," Ms. Patricia said with a smile.

"Mighty fine indeed," Derrick Carlton went on, as she sliced a chunk of ham and laid it carefully onto his plate. She went around to do the same for the others while another slave girl came out with a tray of biscuits.

Jack was pouring more gravy onto his mashed potatoes when his father spoke again. "What's youre name girl?"

He was asking the slave girl who had brought the biscuits to everyone's plate. She stood by his father with her head down.

"Speak up," his stepmother snapped.

"Ruth," she said quietly, not raising her face.

"Let's have a look at you Ruth," he said. Jack didn't miss the way his father's eyes trailed along the curves she had underneath the black maids uniform she wore. It was common knowledge that his father admired the opposite sex and fulfilled his sexual lusts outside his marriage. If his stepmother knew, he wasn't sure but if she did, she turned the other cheek and didn't speak of it.

The slave girl who called herself "Ruth" looked up and Jack could feel her embarrassment from where he sat. She was nothing short from beautiful. Her eyes were almost as black as night matching the color of her silken hair that was braided down her back with soft curls framing her face. He couldn't get over her lips, the second best feature on her besides her raven hair. They were full and soft looking and he marveled that he had never seen lips such as hers on anyone before.

"Mighty fine indeed," his father murmured for the second time that evening, gazing her up and down.

"Derrick, please say grace," his wife cut in, clearly breaking his trance.

"Yes, yes, of course."

Ruth made her escape back to the kitchen while his father led grace over their meal.

"How many slaves do we need Loretta?" Derrick asked after prayer.

"You said I could get a personal maid, remember dear," she reminded, slicing her ham into smaller pieces.

"I guess I did, didn't I... Well, anything for my Lovely Loretta," he said, trying to appease her with a winsome smile. At that, she blushed and continued to eat, basking in his attention.

The meal continued uneventful with no sign of the pretty slave girl from before. In a way, Jack was a little sorry she didn't come back out.