“It seems many of their family members were. We believe they might be haunted by the spirits of those they killed,” said Trak.
“I can’t say I blame the spirits,” frowned Martha. “I didn’t know those on the plantation early on, but there could be records or stories in the library. My mother and grandmother often visited other homes to deliver baskets. As much as they disliked those people, they still would have been kind to a wife or daughter.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” said Trak. “Thank you both.” Martha watched as he ran toward the big house, entering through the library doors.
“This evil spell is powerful,” said Nathan. “I couldn’t see who put it in place.”
“The spell is nothing compared to the evil of that land,” said Martha. “I hated going there and eventually refused to set foot on the property. You could see it in the faces of those poor people. Abused, starved, and beaten.”
“Why starve them if you wanted them to work for you?”
“Because hate-filled people know nothing else, Nathan,” said Martha with a sad tone. “Archie visited the site after the war. He said the house was burned to the ground, and the slaves were dead. They’d left the home when they knew that the Union soldiers were coming but didn’t free the slaves. They chained them to the buildings, leaving them to starve.”
“We must help this young man to be free of his chains,” said Nathan. Martha nodded, squeezing his hand.
“Then let us help him.”
Trak rifled through dozens of family bibles, diaries, and logs to try and find the information that could help them free Grover. Marcel came in, happy to help, and began rifling through the same.
“Have you reviewed the store logs?” he asked.
“The stores? Why would it be there?” asked Trak.
“The store logs would include medicines or herbs purchased for illnesses on the property. It’s possible that myfamily consulted with someone, perhaps someone with magical gifts, to know what was needed.”
Trak turned and walked along the shelves filled with books. He climbed the steps to the second level and found the row of books that held the logs for goods purchased.
“1771 through 1798,” he whispered. He pulled the log from the shelf along with the next one that covered through 1827. “This will take a while.”
Marcel grinned at him.
“Not if you know what you’re looking for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Trak didn’t lift his head for food, drink, or even a kiss from his wife. His head was down, engrossed in the logs before him. Marcel would interpret things, and soon he was lost in the history of Belle Fleur.
“What was this used for?” he asked Marcel.
“Willow bark? It was used to help with pain or inflammation. Sometimes, we would make a tea to help with diarrhea or even headaches.”
“Did it work?” he frowned. Marcel laughed, shaking his head.
“About half the time.” Trak pointed to another name. “Digitalis purpurea. That’s foxglove. The leaves helped with heart conditions. Chamomile.”
“I know chamomile,” said Trak. “My grandfather used to give me a tea with chamomile to help me sleep after my mother beat me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Marcel. Trak only nodded, then quieted, staring off into space.
“Our situations were different and yet similar. I was not a slave, yet I was a prisoner in my mother’s home until I could take care of myself. I was beaten, and no one cared except my grandfather. I feel for this young man.”
“I do as well,” said Marcel. Trak pointed to another name. “Lavender was used for many things. It has such a wonderful smell and a calming ability. Yarrow was used for wound healing. Horehound could reduce coughing.”
“Look at this entry.”
I am assured that the spell will protect the gardens and the property. Our gates will hold no matter the enemy.
“Sounds like someone had a visitor,” said Marcel.
