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After her parents had died, she had found solace in the piano until the debtors came and took not only her piano, but everything else that had mattered to her.
And then when her husband had died, she had found solace in the piano at the church until the new minister took over and she felt awkward using it.
When she came to the music room, she stopped just outside the door, for she knew she was about to enter a place that was absolutely forbidden to her unless Reginald was giving a party.
And even then, the piano was forbidden to everyone there—especially, it seemed, Jessie. She would never forget his scolding look when some of the women asked her to play.
But he wasn’t there now to stop her, or forbid her anything! Yet she still went cautiously into the room.
She stopped and listened for any sound of a horse approaching, just in case Reginald had returned sooner than she had thought.
He had not been gone for long, yet one could never guess what he might do next.
Yes, he was a most unpredictable man!
Hearing nothing but an occasional whinny from the corralled horses, Jessie slowly circled the grand piano, running her hands over its smooth surface, and then reverently touching the keys.
Surely if Reginald did happen to return and heard her, he would do nothing drastic.
It was only a piano, for heaven’s sake—not a precious stack of silver coins like the ones she had seen him playing with more than once when she had gone past his study.
Determined to play, and casting all doubts and fears aside, Jessie sat down on the bench and placed her fingers on the keys. A feeling of peace came over her as she began playing.
The room . . . the entire house . . . was filled with the passion of the music.
She soon lost track of time, or concern about what she was doing. She didn’t even hear Reginald enter the room.
She didn’t know he was there until he came and slammed the lid over the piano keys, capturing her hands between the lid and the keys. She screamed in pain as he raised the lid and allowed her to pull her fingers free.
“I warned you never to play this instrument!” he screamed. “You were warned never to play my wife Sara’s piano! Never! No one but Sara ever played it!”
Her fingers throbbing unmercifully, Jessie rose from the bench.
She glared at Reginald through her tears. “I’ve never truly known you!” she cried. “You’re . . . you’re . . . a monster!”
Sobbing, she ran from the house into the moonlit night and didn’t stop until she reached the creek at the back of Reginald’s property.
She fell to her knees and sank her hands into the cold water, momentarily numbing the pain.
“You get back here!” Reginald shouted as he came stamping toward her.
He began wheezing, almost uncontrollably.
“You get back inside that house,” he gasped out. “Go to your room!”
When he came and stood over her, like some crazed animal in the night, Jessie stumbled to her feet. She gazed at him with a loathing she had never known she could feel for anyone . . . except the outlaw who had claimed her mother’s and father’s lives.
She knew now that she must flee this man. Somehow, she would.
She winced, then cried out with pain when he grabbed her by the wrist and half dragged her to the house. He marched her to her room and shoved her inside, slamming the door as he left.
Her hands were swollen now, the fingers throbbing even worse than before.
After a while, once Reginald was in bed, Jade came into Jessie’s bedroom, carrying a bag, and closed the door behind her.
“I saw and heard it all,” Jade murmured, setting the bag aside. “I’ve brought something to help you.”
“I doubt anything can,” Jessie sobbed out as Jade urged her down onto her bed.
