White Doves At Morning: A Dave Robicheaux Novel - Plot & Excerpts
The weather turned wet and blustery, the temperature dipping below freezing at night, and the wounds in his side festered. From his bedroom window on the second story of his home he saw his fruit trees wither, his fields lie fallow, and many of the slave cabins remain empty. In order to sleep he placed a lump of opium in his cheek. The smell of the infection in his wounds filled his dreams.Even before his wife had died in childbirth, his life had been one of solitude. But solitude should not mean loneliness, his father had always said. A real man planted his feet solidly in the world, chose his own friends, male and female, in his own time, and was never alone except when he wanted to be, his father had said.But when Ira Jamison's possessions were in jeopardy, he experienced a form of soul sickness that did not seem connected to the loss of the material items themselves. His fireplaces seemed to give no heat, a tryst with an octoroon girl no solace. He wandered his house in his bathrobe, voices out of his childhood echoing from the coldness in the walls.
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