Courage, commitment, and control are no match for~
The Weight of Flowers
Kentucky, 1923. Green rolling pastures studded with thoroughbreds, the hypnotic chorus of crickets singing their promise of good luck—all so seemingly bucolic on the surface. Deceit hangs in the air like poorly kept secrets. That’s where Jamison Jones Davenport grew up. Where she learned her existence had less value than hired field hands. That’s why she chose to never return.
Jamison’s father, the Colonel, was adept at subtle reconstruction. Reality on the stud farm was a manifestation of his will, regardless of merit or truth. He expected everyone to fall in line like no one was capable of thinking for themselves, or recognizing when most of it was a boondoggle. But Jamison wouldn’t do it. Even from a young age, she tried to work around it, first by being a tomboy, believing there was no reason she couldn’t be the son he’d always wanted. Her effort made little difference to him, and nature put an end to that naive deception. As she became a young woman, Jamison realized that her options were less than she had hoped. Being a woman wasn’t the trouble; being a woman in a man’s world was hobbling her.
It was tolerable when the Colonel ignored her, but his own plans destroyed her path to being a free woman. She thought maybe her mother would help, but it was certainly beyond her mother’s artful ruse for survival. In a case like this, any intelligent girl would use the same wiles taught from her father against him.