Legacy of Love by Donna Hill Page B

were to totally buy into the family lore, and what was expected of her, she could believe that he was the one who’d been sent to her. On the other hand it could be something as simple as good, old-fashioned lust.
    Sharlene sipped her drink then put it down on the table. She leaned forward. “Tell me the story again.”
    â€œSharl…” Zoe shook her head and smiled. “How many times have you heard the legend?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she said with a grin. “Come on. It’s girl’s night. If we were guys we’d been telling ghost stories or fish tales or trying to one-up each other’s bedpost notches.”
    They both burst out laughing.
    â€œAll right, all right.”
    Sharlene settled back. She’d been hearing bits and pieces of the Beaumont legacy since she was a little girl. On more occasions than she could count, she would sit at the Beaumont kitchen table listening to Aunt Fern or Aunt Flo tell stories about their many loves, failed marriages and the reasons why. Or she’d become enthralled by Zoe’s fabulous mother when she dressed up in all her fancy clothes to sing at a nightclub or hurry out to a waiting car that took her who knows where for months on end. But she never grew tired of the stories, the magic and mystery of it all.
    â€œMy great-great grandmother and grandfather were captured during a raid on their village in the ancient city of Djenne in Mali, West Africa,” Zoe began in that sultry storytelling voice that Sharlene loved. “My great-great grandmother, Zinzi, was the conjure woman of the village. Everyone came to her with their problems. After she and my great-great-grandfather were taken and enslaved, the village slowly died off.” She drew in a breath. “At least that’s what Nana said. The village was wiped out. When they were brought to Louisiana, they were separated and sold off at auction. Nana said Zinzi’s wails could be heard up and down the Mississippi. She was sold to Ezekiel Beaumont and she never saw her husband, Etu, again. The way the story goes, Ezekiel became so consumed by Zinzi that he put her up to live in his house, with his wife.He even bought her freedom. Zinzi had three children by him—all girls. Nana said that Zinzi put a spell on him. And when he died, he didn’t leave his wife a thing. He left it all to Zinzi and her daughters—the land, the house, all his money and even the servants who still remained after the Civil War.
    â€œShe was a wealthy woman. But she never got over losing Etu. She still cried for him and some nights she could be seen at the top of the hill just wandering around looking for her husband. One morning, her oldest daughter, Willa, found her up on the hill, slumped against the tree. She had a piece of cloth clutched in her hand. She’d often told her daughters it was the only thing she had left of her husband.”
    Zoe drew in a long breath and gave her head a quick shake, coming back to the here and now. She turned her faraway gaze toward Sharlene, who was entranced.
    â€œSo sad and beautiful,” Sharlene murmured.
    â€œHmm. And every Beaumont woman since then has had nothing but heartache. All of their loves end in tragedy.”
    â€œIt’s like you all are being punished over and over again. But why? I never understood that.”
    â€œNeither did I until Nana told me on my last visit.”
    Sharlene leaned forward. “Well…what is it?”
    â€œZinzi and Etu’s marriage was a sacred one. Their marriage brought together two of the mostimportant tribes in Mali with all their riches and their powers. When they were taken from the village, what had been joined spiritually was broken. And until they found each other and were reunited as man and wife, happiness would remain elusive in their household. Zinzi and Etu never found each other.”
    â€œAnd heartache has continued to follow your