From This Day Forward

by Margaret Daley

  “This is the very reason I stay in the country.”

  “You mean hide away.” Sarah sent him a sharp look then turned her attention to Rachel. “I’m sorry my big brother can be so boorish. I hope you all will stay for dinner before you go shopping.”

  “I would love to. Is it possible Maddy can stay here with Faith while we are out? I don’t want to expose Faith to the crowds.”

  “I would have it no other way. Come, Maddy, I will show you to the nursery then let Cook know you are staying for dinner. John should be home by then.” Sarah headed for the door while Maddy took Faith and followed her from the parlor.

  The moment Rachel was alone with Nathan she said, “When a woman is with child it is a happy time, but your sour expression puts a damper on the festive mood. What is the matter?”

  Nathan prowled the room, glancing out the front window that overlooked the street. When he shifted around and peered at her, his expression revealed nothing of his inner thoughts. He was good at that, and Rachel wished she could do the same.

  “Childbirth can be dangerous for a woman.” He finally broke the silence, the flexing of his hands the only indication they were talking about a serious subject.

  “Life is dangerous. Look at what happened to my husband on the voyage over here.”

  “There were complications with the birth of Sean.”

  “That does not mean there will be complications with this next one. If women lived in fear of giving birth, there would be no people to populate this world.”

  He rotated back toward the window, his posture rigid, his hand clutching the velvet draperies. “That does not mean someone I care about has to be the one to populate the world.”

  “So you never want children?” The moment she uttered the question she clamped her hand over her mouth. Where was this boldness coming from?

  “Like you, I don’t want to get married.”

  “You can marry and not have children. As I asked earlier, what is the matter? Sarah is fine now.”

  “How about what happened to you when Faith was coming?” He kept his back to her, his whitened knuckles clasping the drapery.

  “I’m fine too. You were there to help me.”

  “What if I hadn’t been?”

  “The Lord was watching over me. It does no good to speculate over what could have happened. It does not matter because it didn’t occur.”

  A heavy sigh sounded, and his shoulders slumped. Dropping his head, he murmured, “I could not help Eliza when her time came to deliver her child. Both died in the field.”

  Rachel came to her feet and cut the distance between them. “Died in the field? Why was she there? Who is Eliza?”

  “A slave I grew up with. She was the housekeeper’s child. We were close. Friends. I could tell her anything. Then one day my grandfather decided we were growing too close and sent Eliza to work in the cotton fields and live in the slave quarters. Nothing I said would change the old man’s mind. Eliza married another slave, and I was happy for her. I begged Grandfather to let her come back to the house at least as long as she was with child, but he refused the request. Eliza went into labor early while she was working in the field farthest from her cabin. Patrick summoned me, but there was little I could do to save Eliza or her child. That was the final incident that caused the complete rift between Grandfather and me. I left Pinecrest later that day for good.”

  “I’m sorry about Eliza. Surely your grandfather understood you were upset.”

  “Don’t you understand? I’m the reason Eliza went to the fields in the first place. He didn’t like my friendship with Eliza. He didn’t understand that Eliza and I were only friends, not lovers. She was like a little sister to me. I didn’t recognize my grandfather after my father died. He changed. Before, he would have listened to reason. I never felt so helpless. So not in control.”

  She tugged him around and his face was contorted in pain. “Do you think we can control our lives?”

  “No…yes. I will control my life because I will not accept the alternative.”

  “Then you are in for a disappointment. Any sense of control you think you might have is fleeting.” She snapped her fingers. “Gone in an instant. Relying only on yourself will not work. Rely on the Lord. He is our strength.”

  “Is that why you think you can live on the farm and be successful? A woman alone in a new country?”

  “Yes. I cannot do it without Him. That does not mean it will be easy. Anything worthwhile does not come easily.”

  He pivoted away, resuming his survey out the window. “That might work for you, but not me.”

  His pain became hers, as though a hand squeezed her heart. He had done so much for her, and yet he would not accept her help. She searched for the right words to soothe his anguish, but the sound of the door opening and Sarah returning snatched the opportunity from Rachel.

  “I tell you, Rachel, you have such an adorable little daughter. I hope my next child is a girl. Why don’t you all stay overnight or even a few days here with me?”

  Afraid her voice wouldn’t work right, Rachel cleared her throat. “Perhaps another time. There is so much to do at the farm, with spring planting and getting the place livable.”

  “I was afraid you would say that. But know the invitation is always open for you and Faith.” Sarah stared at her brother, who remained with his back to them. “Did I interrupt something? Should I have another talk with the cook?”

  Nathan turned and moved away from the window, an unreadable expression on his face. “No. It was nothing important.”

  His words burdened her heart. Nothing important? His welfare was important to her even if it wasn’t to him. Just going through the motions of living wasn’t living.

  “I will meet you at the mercantile as soon as I talk with the constable.” Nathan pointed to the building not far from the dress shop.

  When Rachel entered Mrs. Bridges’ establishment, Nathan drove the cart away. The moment he was gone, the tension melted away from Rachel. During dinner, he had said little to her or Sarah and had continued the moody silence on the ride to the shop.

  Two ladies came from the back, said their farewells to Mrs. Bridges, and left.

  The older woman smiled and headed straight for Rachel. “I’m so glad you are here, Mrs. Gordon.” She swept her hand across her plump front. “Please have a look around. I have some new hats and gloves that came from abroad recently.”

  Rachel strolled around the large room with displays of Mrs. Bridges’ merchandise. “Very nice. Your shop reminds me of the one I used to frequent in Devonshire. The proprietor always had the latest fashions from London.”

  “What are some of the trends you saw?”

  “Rich colors. Outer garments that are transparent are not as popular. Gowns that fit to the bust then fall loosely are being worn. Paisley patterns for shawls are popular. A few women are wearing drawers.”

  “I like the dress you have on. I was admiring it at Mrs. McNeal’s house. Did you buy it at that shop in Devonshire?”

  Rachel fingered her dark green silk morning gown beneath her pelisse. This was one of the garments she had made herself because she couldn’t afford to go to a dressmaker after she had married Tom. “I made this.”

  “The workmanship is beautiful. I love the lace and trim around the bottom. I didn’t realize you sewed your own clothes.”

  “Only recently.”

  “Come, let us share a cup of tea.” Mrs. Bridges gestured toward a sofa with a table nearby.

  “I cannot stay long. I still need to shop for supplies.”

  “I have water heating in back. It will not take me long. I have a proposition I would like to make to you.”

  As Rachel eased onto the sofa, putting her reticule on her lap, the older woman scurried toward the back of the store. Rachel scanned the quaint shop and sighed. When she had lived at home in Devonshire, she had taken for granted that having beautiful gowns would always be part of her life. Not anymore. What she brou
ght from England would have to do.

  Mrs. Bridges came back into the front room, carrying a tray with a teapot and two china cups and saucers. After she poured the tea and passed Rachel hers, the older woman said, “Would you be interested in working for me?”

  Rachel took a sip of her tea to give her time to come up with an answer. “What do you have in mind? As Sarah mentioned, I live at Dalton Farm, not here in Charleston.”

  “I heard a rumor about the demise of your husband on the voyage over here.”

  “You did?”

  “Charleston is a big town, but whenever a lady of breeding arrives, the word spreads quickly. I understand your circumstances are less than ideal. I haven’t been to Dalton Farm, but I have heard it is not a desirable place for a widow.”

  The thought she was the object of gossip coiled Rachel’s stomach. She gripped the cup and drank some more tea. “But it is my place.” She straightened her back, lifting her chin slightly.

  “I understand, Mrs. Gordon. Ever since my husband passed away, I have been on my own and like it that way. It has not always been easy, so I know what you are going through. I only want to offer to help you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was in the same place you are, so to speak, ten years ago when I came to America. My husband succumbed to consumption not long after our arrival.” She offered Rachel a smile. “My business is thriving. I am in need of a good seamstress. While I was at Mrs. McNeal’s house, I asked her about you. I heard that she as well as Dr. Stuart has befriended you. She mentioned you know how to sew and are making some clothes for your daughter.”

  “Yes, but I’m not leaving the farm.” At the moment that was her only security. Land and a house were better than some people had. She had seen the tenements as they drove through parts of Charleston earlier.

  “Is it possible for you to travel once a week to town? You can sew at your house and deliver the gowns to me when you finish them. If you do work as good as you did on that dress you are wearing, then we will have a profitable relationship. I will pay you for each gown you complete.”

  The farm and Faith required so much of her time. Rachel was going to decline the offer until Mrs. Bridges named her wage for each completed article of clothing. With the money she could purchase a cow for milk, cheese, and butter months before she could if she had to wait and see if her crops would bring in enough for one. “I accept.”

  Mrs. Bridges clapped her hands. “Wonderful. The first few dresses I will need you to sew are for Mrs. McNeal. Since you live near her, you will not have to come into town for any fittings that may be needed. Come, I will show you the material and sketch of the morning gown she wants done right away. Then there is a ball gown after that.”

  Rachel sipped some tea then placed her saucer and cup on the table and rose. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  Twenty minutes later she had a bundle of cloth and accessories for both gowns that Sarah had ordered as well as some black crepe to make her a mourning dress for when she appeared in public, at least for a few more months. Rachel asked Mrs. Bridges if she could leave it at the shop until she had finished at the mercantile and had the cart to load the items she would use for the two dresses. Mrs. Bridges readily agreed, and Rachel set out for the general store to meet Nathan, a spring in her step. The Lord was providing well for her.

  A commotion in the street caught Rachel’s attention as she strolled toward her destination. A wagon nearly ran down an elderly gentleman, who then took his cane to the driver. Someone jostled her on the walkway, throwing her into a large man with blond hair tied back with a leather strap. The stranger reeked of alcohol, and he nearly toppled over. He latched onto her arm to steady himself.

  She tried to yank herself free, but his fingers strengthened about her. “Sir, let me go.”

  He spat out the juice from his chewing tobacco. “Sir, is it? I like that, little lady. How about joining me?”

  Disgusted at his improper behavior, she drew herself up as tall as she could and pinned him with a frosty look—at least she hoped so. “I have no intention of going anywhere with you.”

  Thunder descended on his features, and suddenly he seemed very sober as his gaze zeroed in on her. “You English are all alike. You think you are too good for us.” He thrust his face into hers, his foul breath accosting her and arousing nausea in her stomach. “Well let me tell you, we defeated you twice in the past forty years.” He stabbed his finger into her chest, his body trapping her against a post.

  In the middle of a crowd transfixed by the older man railing at the driver of the wagon, fear seized Rachel as though she wore a corset pulled so tight she couldn’t breathe properly.

  “I was hoping you would find out who the dead man was at the Daltons’ place. It might have helped us figure out why he was at the farm and who killed him.” Nathan strode out of the courthouse with the constable, the warmth of the sun doing nothing to ward off the chill that had encased him ever since Rachel and he had talked at his sister’s house.

  “ ’Tis possible the man is part of that gang that has been plaguing travelers between here and Georgetown. I spoke to a man who had been robbed yesterday. They cover their faces and hold people up at gunpoint. There were two of them that stopped the family. They threatened to shoot the man’s wife if he didn’t hand over his money.”

  “I heard there were three of them.”

  “That’s what I heard too. I know it is a ways from here. But if they are smart, they will not stay in one place for long. Which may mean trouble for me.”

  An elderly gentleman wearing a white powdered wig approached them. “Constable, Mr. Cochran is beating up Mr. Hawkins in the street. I think he is going to kill him.” Then he strolled away.

  “I had better go break up the fight.” The constable started forward then stopped and looked back. “I will send you a message if I find out anything about the man. Keep your eye out for trouble. I feel it is coming.”

  That is what I was afraid of. Nathan stared at the constable until he disappeared into a crowd gathering at the end of the street near the mercantile. Rachel should be in the general store by now and out of harm’s way.

  Nathan closed the distance between the mercantile and the courthouse quickly and entered to search for Rachel. She was nowhere to be seen. He stepped back outside and scanned the area, his gaze pausing a moment on the constable in the middle of the brawl that had broken out between Mr. Cochran and his two sons and Mr. Hawkins and a couple of his friends. Pulling his attention away from the latest form of entertainment for the townspeople, Nathan headed for the dressmaker, passing Rachel’s cart where he had left it in the alley at the side of the general store.

  Above the ruckus from the street, Nathan heard a scream—a woman’s scream. He halted and tried to focus on where the sound had come from. Another scream pierced the air and several people nearby turned toward the sound. He looked behind him and saw Rachel scuffling with a large, heavyset man, who was dragging her down an alley. Heated anger replaced his earlier chill. He ran toward her, noticing as he got closer the long scar on the man’s left cheek.

  Halfway to her, Nathan shouted, “Let her go.”

  Her attacker glanced up at him. Their gazes locked across the expanse.

  At that moment Rachel bit her assailant’s hand that covered her mouth. He howled and struck her across the face then spun on his heel and raced away. Rachel crumpled to the dirt.

  Nine

  Rachel hit the ground, jarring her senses. Her eyes fluttered then closed. Suddenly arms trapped her against a muscular torso. No! She fisted her hands and started swinging. As she focused on the threat, Nathan’s surprised face came into view. Gasping, she stopped pummeling him and threw herself against his chest, hugging him.

  For a brief moment the feel of their embrace chased everything from her thoughts but Nathan. Then she realized he was hovering over her on the ground, clasped against her as though they were lovers. Heat scorched her cheeks, and sh
e scrambled to the side. The warmth coursing through her turned to ice when she recalled what had happened in the alley.

  “He—he wanted—wanted me to come with him. He told me an Englishwoman was only good for one thing.” A shudder passed through Rachel’s body, her gaze falling away from Nathan’s darkening one. “I didn’t. I was only trying to get—”

  “Shh, Rachel. When I find that man, I will teach him some manners.”

  She looked up at him. “Don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

  A steel glint entered his eyes. “You need not worry about me.” He pushed to his feet and offered her his hand.

  She grasped it and relished the strong fingers as they wrapped around hers. What if he had not come when he did? She could have been… No, she would not think about it. Thank You, Lord, for sending Nathan when You did.

  When she stood, she dusted off her coat and gown to keep her hands busy so Nathan wouldn’t see how much she was shaking. If he did, he would start expounding on why she needed to return to England. But what had happened here could occur anywhere.

  After she made herself as presentable as possible, she clutched her reticule and said, “We have some supplies to purchase, then I want to leave this town.” The quiet of her farm beckoned to her as never before.

  Nathan gave her his arm. “I agree. I still have some chores to do at home…at your farm before dark.”

  “At least the days are getting longer.” She walked beside him toward the street and the mercantile. “Mrs. Bridges has hired me to sew gowns for her. I will be able to make some extra money.”

  Nathan paused and raised an eyebrow. “When do you propose to do that extra work?”

  “At night. I need a cow. A supply of milk, cheese, and butter sounds wonderful.”

  “Do you know how to make butter and cheese?”

  Studying his expression with a hint of amusement in it, she tilted her head and smiled. “No, but I am sure someone can teach me how.”

  “Like baking bread?”

  “I’m getting better. At least the last loaves were edible.”