Abigail frowned at the older children. “Miss Deborah’s bracelet is the thing we need to worry about. I want each of you to keep a sharp eye out for it. As for the other matter, when we find out what is making all the odd noises, some of you are going to feel quite foolish that you let yourselves be tricked into believing such nonsense.”
Sheba had not said anything during the meeting, but as the scolded children began to file out of the room, she came to where Abigail stood. “I don’t hear those sounds on account of I go home at night, Miss Abigail, but the children sure do talk about it a lot. And I’m wondering now if it’s not some homeless varmint hiding out up there and coming down when he thinks it is safe.”
Abigail rested her chin on one finger as she considered the maid’s words. “Do you think it’s a runaway?”
Sheba shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but it wouldn’t surprise me none.”
“Perhaps I need to have Papa and some of the men from the plantation come over here and check it out. If it is a runaway, they’ll help the poor soul get away safely.”
“And if it’s not?” Sheba’s eyes grew wide as she voiced the question.
Abigail dropped her hand to her hip. “No matter who it is, I’m sure Papa can take care of it.” She infused her voice with all the confidence she could muster. It would not help anyone to see how doubtful she really felt.
“Squirrels?” Abigail could not keep the disbelief out of her voice.
Her father had gone to town this morning to check on the orphanage while she and her mother stayed home to wash linens. She would have much preferred to go with him, but she had not been able to desert her mother. After hours stirring heavy sheets with a long stick, she was more than willing to take a break and listen to her father’s report.
“That’s right.” Her father nodded his head for emphasis. “We found two nests in the attic, so I can understand why the children heard noises.”
“How did they get inside the orphanage?”
“They’re crafty animals.” He frowned. “It doesn’t take much of an opening. And they can do a great deal of damage once they manage to get inside.”
“How will you make certain they don’t come back?”
“That’s easy. Susannah Hughes told me last week that her cat has weaned a litter of kittens. I sent her a message to send one over to the orphanage.” His chuckle drew an answering smile from her. “I think that will be one well-groomed cat if the children have anything to say about it.”
Her mother came back from the clothesline with an empty basket. “What are you two laughing about?”
“Cats and squirrels.” Her father caught his wife up in a hug and swung her around. The basket slipped out of her hands and bounced toward the back porch. He explained about his morning discoveries as he dropped a series of quick kisses from her ear to her mouth.
Abigail rolled her eyes at her parents’ antics. “You two act more like newlyweds than a staid, married couple.”
“It’s your papa’s fault.” Her mother giggled as the man holding her pressed one last kiss on the back of her neck. “He shouldn’t be such a romantic man.”
“And your mama shouldn’t be so beautiful.”
“Okay, okay.” Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Papa, can you quit nuzzling my mother long enough to tell me if you found Deborah’s bracelet?”
Mama’s cheeks were flushed. When Papa released her, she rescued the laundry basket and turned to face him.
He sighed and shook his head. “No, we didn’t. And I must say squirrels don’t usually show interest in shiny objects. That would be more like a bird, although I can’t imagine a bird strong enough to fly off with a piece as large as a bracelet.”
“That’s too bad.” Her mother pulled a sheet from the rinse water and wrung it out. “Maybe we can find one like it to give to Deborah.”
“I don’t know.” Abigail returned to her stirring. “It belonged to her mother. We’ll have to keep praying it will turn up. I cannot believe anyone at the orphanage would take it.”
“It’s beginning to look like that’s the only reasonable explanation.” Her father leaned against a tree and watched them work. “But perhaps it will show up yet.”
Mama dropped the sheet into her basket and grabbed another one. “You could help us instead of watching.”
“I believe that’s my cue to check on the stables.” Papa pushed himself away from the tree and sauntered away. “You two seem to have the wash well in hand.”
Abigail didn’t even try to hide her snort. “So much for togetherness.”
She and her mother continued working with Jemma until all the wash was hanging on the clothesline. They would have to come back out before dusk to bring the dry linens in for ironing tomorrow. At least that job wouldn’t make her eyes water like the lye fumes had this morning. And climbing into a bed of fresh linens tomorrow night would be worth all of their hard work.
Chapter 9
Coming back to the cottage at Magnolia already felt like coming home. Nathan knew how lucky he was to have such a luxurious place to live in. Most traveling pastors had little besides a bedroll and a Bible.
Early morning sunlight cascaded onto the marble floor as he walked through the foyer. After a week on the road, he should have been able to stay abed this morning, but the birdsong outside his window had called to him.
He rubbed his chin as he walked along the shaded path toward the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. Perhaps he should have taken the time to shave, but he had wanted to enjoy the morning before anyone else was up. His destination this morning was a large wooden bench on the LeGrands’ front lawn that commanded a wide view of the river. Mr. and Mrs. LeGrand talked about enjoying the sunset from the bench, but he wanted to enjoy the vista as the day awoke. Following the pathway, he caught a glimpse of a yearling picking its way through the undergrowth some distance away.
He emerged from the pathway onto the grounds and took a moment to study the plantation home. It was a graceful building with tall white columns and a deep porch that faced the river. In front of the house, old oak trees stood watch over a small pond, whose surface rippled under the invisible brush of a spring breeze. He wondered if Abigail had ever waded at the water’s edge or attempted to climb the gnarled limbs of the overhanging trees. It wasn’t hard to imagine her being so daring.
Turning to the bench, he was surprised to see it was already occupied. Who else had been called out so early? His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the person’s identity. He did not want to bother anyone, but his curiosity took him several steps closer. A woman. Abigail. Something was wrong. She sat hunched forward, her shoulders shaking and her head in her hands. Was she crying? Concern propelled Nathan forward. “Are you okay?”
Her head jerked upward and that’s when he realized her hair was loose as it flew around her. “What are you doing here?” A white towel fluttered to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Abigail.” He realized his mistake when he searched her face for signs of tears. “I saw you sitting here and I thought you might be in distress and need someone to talk to.”
“Distress?” She reached back with both hands and grabbed her hair, struggling to keep it under control. “You frightened me out of my wits. Yes, I’m stressed. You’ve caught me practically undressed.”
At first he thought she was really upset, and his chest tightened in response. He opened his mouth to apologize yet again, but then he saw the gleam in her midnight black eyes. She was teasing him. His chest eased and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Don’t put it up on my account.”
She stopped trying to twist the damp strands into a bun. “I suppose you will think I am some kind of wanton female, but I washed it this morning and decided to sit out here and let the wind blow it dry.” As soon as she let go of the bundle, it fell down again around her shoulders. “I cannot abide the fragrance of lye soap, so I always wash my hair after Mama and I launder t
he linens.”
Nathan took a deep breath to still the sudden pounding of his heart. She looked so vulnerable standing on the far side of the bench. He pushed aside the longing that crept into him. He had no business thinking about running his fingers through her soft tresses. Only her husband would have that right.
Abigail did not seem aware of the effect she was having on him. She beckoned him forward and sat down once more facing the bluff. “I didn’t realize you had returned.”
Instead of sitting next to her, he leaned against the trunk of a pine tree that stood next to her bench. “I came in yesterday evening.”
“I trust your trip was successful.” She turned her dark gaze on him. “Did you win more hearts for the Lord?”
He shook his head. “I cannot take credit. I am only a laborer in the field. Jesus is the one who harvests.”
“Well said, Nathan. All of us should share your humility.” She glanced up at him. “It is one of your most admirable traits.”
She thought he had admirable traits? Nathan wanted to ask her to list them, but he supposed that would contradict the humility she attributed to him. He glanced to the river, watching as a flatboat cut an angle across the wide bend below them. Perhaps he would do better to focus on her. “What has been going on here since my departure?”
“Much the same as what was happening while you were here.” She brushed at a pine straw that had landed on the bench next to her. “Although we have solved the mystery of the odd sounds at the orphanage.”
“Is that so?” Nathan looked back toward her. As she explained about squirrels and kittens he watched the expressions cross her face. The more he was around Abigail LeGrand, the more he found to admire about her. Strong and courageous, she was the type of woman who would meet all of life’s challenges with a resolute spirit.
He wondered about the source of her strength. Was it because she had grown up in the lap of luxury? That did not make sense to him. Most people who grew up that way became self-absorbed boors with no idea that they should work on behalf of others.
Which led him back to his question—from where did she draw her strength? Her values? One thing was for certain—her contradictions intrigued him. He had never met anyone like Abigail LeGrand.
Abigail straightened and looked across the strawberry patch, where she and her mother were working once again. They had already gathered some of the succulent fruits a few weeks earlier, and this would likely be their last harvest for this year. “You’re supposed to pick the berries, not eat all of them, Mama.”
Her mother’s guilty look made Abigail laugh out loud. “Did you think I wouldn’t see you?”
“They’re too sweet for me to resist.” Mama pulled her bonnet forward and bent to gather more of the red fruit.
Abigail dropped another handful into her basket, palming one to pop into her mouth. “You make an excellent point.”
Laughter filled the air.
“I think we have enough for now.” Mama started for the kitchen, her basket piled high.
Abigail grabbed her basket with both hands and followed. “I saw a new recipe in the Natchez Free Trader last week.”
“Was it a cake recipe?” The older woman emptied her basket into a vat of water that had been drawn earlier. “I think I remember seeing it.”
“We also need to make some preserves. I love strawberry preserves on your fresh bread.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, daughter. We’ll take it with us on our trip.”
Abigail removed her bonnet. “What trip?”
“A big church conference is going to be held in Jackson in two weeks, and your papa and I have decided to go.”
“I thought we were going to Gatlin’s Camp Ground like last year.” Abigail was shocked at her mother’s pronouncement. Her parents usually consulted her before making their plans. It wasn’t that she had anything against traveling to the capital city. She had never visited Jackson before.
“We’ll probably go there, too.” Mama swirled the strawberries vigorously enough to wash them clean. “But we thought it would be nice to visit with the elders in Jackson. We were also thinking about asking Brother Pierce to travel with us.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “Why would you want to do that? We never took Brother Harris with us to Gatlin’s Camp Ground when he was the pastor, much less to Jackson.”
A secret smile teased her mother’s lips. “But this is a different situation.”
“Mamaaa.” She drew out the last syllable to indicate her objection to the idea. “You have got to stop interfering in my life. I am not interested in Nath—Brother Pierce. And he’s not interested in me.”
Her mother put down the spoon and rested her hands on her hips. “Abigail, I love you dearly, but you have got to realize that not everything going on in this household revolves around you.”
The words struck home. She sat down hard in a convenient rocking chair. “I didn’t…”
Mama leaned over her and put a hand on Abigail’s cheek. “I’m sorry, dear. But you are jumping to the wrong conclusion. We were thinking about Brother Pierce. He’s all alone and new to the area. If he doesn’t go with us, he’d likely have to go by horseback and sleep out in the open. This way, he can go with us on the steamship to Vicksburg and then overland on the stagecoach to Jackson.”
“Have you talked to Brother Pierce about your plans?” Abigail got up from the rocker and started pulling strawberries from the water and capping them with a sharp knife.
“Now when would I have talked to Brother Pierce? Your pa and I only decided that we’d make the trip a few days ago, and he hasn’t returned from his circuit.” Her mother glanced at her for a moment. “Or has he?”
Abigail’s cheeks turned as red as the fruit in her hand. “I believe so. He…I saw him early this morning on the bluff.”
“I see.” Her mother took the topped fruits from Abigail and began cutting them into slices to go into preserves and marmalades. Others would be crushed to add to strawberry cakes and pies, while still others would be left whole and served as a dessert with fresh cream from their dairy cows. “What did he have to say about his travels?”
“Not much.” Abigail shrugged and concentrated on her work. “He is very humble and credited his successes to God’s abilities rather than his talents.”
“He is a good man.”
Abigail didn’t feel like her mother’s statement needed confirmation. Anyone could see Nathan Pierce was a good man. Why wouldn’t he be? He was a preacher, after all. And preachers had to be good to be effective. Didn’t they?
She continued pondering that question until they had all the strawberries ready to go to the kitchen. All the preachers she’d ever met were good men, some more humble than others, some more commanding behind the pulpit. But it did not necessarily follow that she should marry him—them.
She tied a cloth around her head and poured sliced strawberries into a pot on the hot stove. Mama and the cook discussed recipes and preparations, but Abigail let her thoughts wander back to her discussion with Nathan that morning.
He had been so considerate when he thought she was upset, and she had been unable to resist teasing him a little. But she would have to be careful to be more circumspect with him for two reasons. The first had to do with raising false hopes in her parents’ minds. No matter what Mama said, she would like to see Abigail married with a house full of children. The second reason was that she did not want to mislead Nathan himself. She was not going to get married and try to make herself into some man’s idea of the perfect spouse. The very idea was abhorrent to her.
Her mind made up, Abigail decided she would avoid Nathan Pierce. She nodded. While that might not be particularly easy to do if they were traveling by carriage, on a steamboat cruiser it ought to be a snap.
Chapter 10
I don’t think I can fit even one more item into this trunk.” Abigail’s mother tried to force the lid down over the stack of clothing. “Come over here and see if
you can close the latches.”
Abigail complied, tugging and grunting as she tried to get the leather straps cinched. “You lack at least an inch.”
“Oof.” Mama sat down on the lid and bounced. “How about now?”
Abigail pulled so hard on the straps that she worried they might break. “I’m sorry, but this is not going to work.” She sat back on her heels. “I can probably squeeze a few things into my trunk.”
“Could you?” Her mother looked at her over one shoulder. “I don’t know why it takes so many outfits. Your father would chastise me for my excess if he knew what trouble I’m having with this trunk.”
“That’s only because he’s a man. Women require more space. It’s a wonder we don’t need two or three trunks each. We have to have outfits for the morning and different ones for evening wear”—Abigail ticked off each category of clothing on a different finger—“walking dresses and riding habits, sleepwear and toiletries.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go to Jackson, after all. It seemed much simpler when we were going to the campground.” Mama stood up, and the lid of the trunk popped back open. “Let’s see what I can store in your trunk.”
Soon they had the excess items neatly stowed away in Abigail’s trunk.
“Are you two done?” Papa called to them from the base of the stairs. “Nathan is here, and we’re ready to load everything onto the wagon.”
Abigail picked up her yellow bonnet and tied its wide white ribbon under her chin as her mother walked to the head of the stairs. She glanced in the mirror and sighed. Part of her wished to be considered beautiful, but that description had always been out of reach. She grimaced at her reflection. At least her hair was neat today, not blowing loose in the wind.
Mississippi Brides Page 23
