“Father, the Negroes just want food and shelter. They’re not asking for a lot, but you’ve got to care for them properly. They’re people. The Bible says there was neither slave nor freeman in Christ. The men are not getting enough to eat, Father, and they’re having to steal from each other to get enough food for the day’s work.”
“If they don’t like it, they can leave.” He looked to the ground. “Until the codes are official of course.”
Eleanor thinned her eyes. “It’s a new day, Father. You’ve got to learn to adapt, or the Yankees will be back. We must find a new way of running Rosamond. The way Mother ran it. Lincoln said the Union must reunite for charity’s sake.”
“And Lincoln is dead for charity’s sake.”
Eleanor decided it best to drop the subject. Seeing the pain the war had caused, all its death and destruction, it was no wonder her father felt as he did. Although Natchez had been spared the worst kind of ruin, the town had still lost many of its sons. No one could forget that. It was impossible to think of Yankees without thinking of loss.
“Andrew is coming for dinner tonight, Eleanor. You shall not let your beau down. You look as if you’ve been in the fields all day.”
Eleanor smiled nervously. There was a reason she looked that way. “Yes, Father.”
She excused herself to go into the house and climbed the familiar stairs, but she stopped on the landing, gazing into an old portrait. Her mother looked back, and Eleanor choked back tears at the sight of her. “You would forgive him, Mother. I know you would.” She let her eyes close in reverie. Oh Lord, give me the strength to marry Andrew.
Chapter 2
Dinner proved to be an odd little affair, and Eleanor tapped her feet incessantly to endure the drawn-out evening. Nathaniel was there in spirit, though unwelcome by all, his invisible presence interrupting Eleanor’s every attempt at conversation. She could think of no one else.
“Ellie,” Andrew said.
He’d taken to calling her Ellie when Nathaniel returned, and Eleanor didn’t like it one bit. It was a childish name, not worthy of a woman who would soon be mistress of Woodacre, and it only called attention to the closeness she and Nathaniel once shared.
“I hear the ladies are organizing a quilting circle again. Will you be a part of it?”
Eleanor pushed the food about on her plate. “I shouldn’t think so, Andrew. I’ll have much to do preparing the rooms after our wedding.”
“It’s been a time since Mother was there to add a lady’s touch. Father and—” He halted, clearly stumbling over the name of Nathaniel. “Father and his sons are looking forward to having the niceties of life brought back to Woodacre. I daresay the housekeeper has been driven to insanity seeing to us. You may dismiss her if need be.”
“That shan’t be necessary, I’m sure.” Eleanor forced a smile.
An eternity of idle, pointless conversation followed before the men retired to the study. Eleanor promptly excused herself and flew down the back steps, stopping outside the kitchen house. She gasped for breath, grateful for the cold air rather than the stagnant feel of the dining room. She sniffed the crisp air, thankful for the smell of fall leaves in the night breeze.
“Ellie,” his voice came to her in a whisper, and for a moment she thought she dreamed it. But Nathaniel stepped from the shadows, and her heart pounded faster. “Do you remember how we’d meet here when we were younger?” His tall frame sent her mind soaring, and she recalled the way his hazel eyes caused flutters in her stomach. Just as it felt now. Nathaniel has grown into a stunningly handsome man, she admitted to herself. “Do you remember, Ellie? We’d wait until the men retired, when we were supposed to be tucked away for the night, and we’d come here to the kitchen and play jacks.”
She turned away to avoid his warm gaze in the moonlight. “You shouldn’t be here. Father would have your head if he knew you were bothering me.”
“Am I bothering you?” The self-assuredness in his voice hadn’t changed a bit. Nathaniel understood his power over her, and it was all the more reason to squelch it now.
“Of course you’re bothering me. If you hadn’t noticed, I was having a fine dinner party with my fiancé. A dinner party which you were not invited to, or didn’t you notice?”
Nathaniel clicked his tongue. “When has your father ever willingly invited me? I’m going to prove myself, Ellie. I may not be any type of Confederate hero; but I was wrong, and I intend to make up for it.”
“I shall be the first to congratulate you when you do. If you’ll excuse me.”
Eleanor hiked up her skirt and turned to leave, but Nathaniel grasped her shoulders, stopping her.
“Eleanor, I know you believe in me. I know you understand I didn’t know a thing about the war.”
“You knew when it was happening. Don’t tell me you didn’t know your country was in a war. California is not that far away. Many men returned from the West to fight, and even Europe, but you didn’t, Nathaniel.”
“I wasn’t saved, Ellie. Would you rather I’d died in battle than meet you for all eternity? God had His plan. My selfishness was great, but He has used it to bring me back to Him.”
“Nathaniel, do you expect me to believe that God ordained your flight?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant if I had died in the war, I would not meet you in heaven.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been attending church since you were a boy. What is this talk of not being saved before?”
“I’ve been fidgeting in the pew since I was a boy. I never knew eternal life rested in Him. Not until a spicy old prospector told me the Gospel, and I grasped it in my heart by confessing my sins.”
Eleanor looked into his eyes and knew he spoke the truth. Nathaniel wasn’t the dramatic type, especially not about religious conversation. If he said he’d found grace, he had.
All at once a fearful cry stopped their conversation, and her breath caught in her throat. Could it be what it seemed? A tiny baby’s wail? Raccoons made similar noises, but something about the insistence of this cry told her it was no animal. Eleanor walked toward the edge of the woods, and the cries became louder and more discernible. It was definitely a baby. She drew closer, but Nathaniel held her back.
“Stop, Ellie. It could be some kind of trick. Let me check first.”
Eleanor pulled free. “You’ll only scare the baby. Let me go.”
She went to the edge of the woods, and Nathaniel held her back again. Wiggling from his grasp, she stepped gingerly into the trees. The light from the kitchen barely lit her path.
On the soft ground, rustling in the leaves, she found a black infant. The baby had been swaddled in a rough blanket. Probably the very blanket given to the child’s mother by her master when she was a child.
Eleanor picked up the baby and searched its dark brown eyes in the dim light. “Oh Nathaniel, look.” The baby blinked wildly to avoid the light, but upon seeing Eleanor’s face, smiled a heartwarming grin, then promptly began crying again. “His mother must be here somewhere. Hello!” she called out. “If the baby’s mother is about, please show yourself. I mean you no harm.”
“She won’t come with me here,” Nathaniel informed her.
“Then leave,” Eleanor said curtly. Seeing the hurt in Nathaniel’s face, she softened her tone. “I’m sorry, Nathaniel, but this baby is so young. I want to help the mother, if possible.”
“I’m not leaving you alone in the dark of night without anyone to see to your safety.”
His sudden interest in her safety sent her reeling. “I’ve been fine for six years without you, Nathaniel. Or should I say Master Pemberton? Do you think I cannot do for myself now? Please leave—your presence is only scaring the mother.” She cuddled the baby close to her, and the loud wails turned to soft, smacking whimpers. Little sniffles followed, and soon the smile returned—a precious, innocent smile that only a baby could offer.
“I’ll be close by,” Nathaniel announced before turning awa
y.
Soon after, another rustling in the leaves gave way to a young girl, certainly younger than Eleanor. She had big, round eyes and clearly knew her life was in danger by showing herself at the house. Eleanor approached the girl with the baby. “Is she yours?”
The girl nodded. “He. I got nothin’ to eat, ma’am. I can’t nurse him with nothin’ in my belly. The men, they need food for the work, but my baby, he need it, too. I wasn’t going to steal nothin’. I was goin’ to see if there was scraps from dinner.”
Eleanor cringed at the girl’s thin frame. She needed more than scraps. “What’s your name?”
“Ceviche,” she answered softly.
“I’ll get you some food, Ceviche, on the promise that you’ll come here every night. I’ll leave a basket for you. You eat it here, and don’t tell any of the men where you go. Do you understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Stay here. I’m going to get you and the baby a warmer blanket.”
“No ma’am.” Her eyes grew wider. “They’ll know where I was if’n I come back with a blanket. The masser at Woodacre, he’ll kill me for certain.”
Eleanor looked at the baby and then at her mother. Of course, the girl was right about the blanket, but Eleanor feared for the cold fall nights. Whatever the plantation owners had suffered, it was nothing next to the slaves. Looking into the depths of the mother’s eyes, Eleanor could see that now. This girl had no way to protect her baby, and desperation had brought her to the edge of Eleanor’s grand home in the dark of night. Could there be a more hopeless feeling? It was the first thing she would change as mistress of Woodacre.
“You’re probably right about the blanket. Stay here. I’ll get you some food.”
Eleanor plundered through the kitchen house, avoiding the strange stares she received from the house servants. She packed the goods in a picnic basket reserved for outings on spring horse days and left without a word of explanation.
“Don’t eat it too fast.” She warned as she handed the basket to the girl. “And come back tomorrow for more.”
The young girl held out a trembling hand but took another look at her baby and grabbed the basket. Curtseying, she ran into the dark night.
“You still feel as I do then.” Nathaniel came behind her and touched Eleanor’s shoulder. It sent shivers through her spine, and she unconsciously rubbed her arms to stop the feeling.
“I don’t know what you mean, Nathaniel. I saw one of God’s children hungry, and I fed her. There’s nothing more to it than that. She wouldn’t be in such a position if it weren’t for our fathers and this war.”
“What will you say to my father and your future husband Andrew when they employ the black codes, Ellie? Will you sit by and watch them go against the law?”
“I shall help them write the codes if need be. They’ll allow for enough food and the ability for a worker to leave should they like.” Eleanor squared her shoulders, confident in her words.
But Nathaniel laughed aloud, cutting her off. “And a plot of land to call their own in the corner of the plantation.
“Tell me you aren’t still so naive, Ellie. Our fathers blame the Yankees for everything that’s befallen them, and punishing the slaves is just what they’ve done their entire lives. Certainly your father tried to help them when your mother was alive, but what’s he done for them since?”
“Freedom is the law, Nathaniel. At some point, our fathers will have to adapt. I have. I’ve lost everything that meant anything to me. All that’s left in this house is the walls. We sold all the silver for the war effort. We even sold Mother’s jewels that were sewn into my gown for protection.”
“Your father let you sell your mother’s things?”
“We had no choice, Nathaniel. The South gave up as much as we could to ward off the Yankees. We burned all our cotton and anything that could be considered transport so the Union wouldn’t get it. We didn’t want to make it any easier for them to kill Confederate soldiers.”
“Eleanor, marrying my brother will not help your cause. You will only succumb to their way, their ideas.”
“I haven’t yet,” she answered defiantly. “I’ve managed to stay quite grounded in my opinions, and I’ve helped to make the plantation workers’ quarters much more livable. Imagine all I could do if mistress of both plantations. Our fathers don’t understand that their method won’t work anymore. They don’t understand that the method to continue their way of life is to treat the men well. They don’t want money. They have no use for it. They want land; they want—”
Nathaniel knelt before her, grasping her hand. “Ellie, come away with me. We’ll be married in Vicksburg by morning.”
Eleanor yanked her hand from his touch, though it took all her strength. “You said you came home to be forgiven. Do you think anyone would offer forgiveness if you stole your brother’s betrothed?” She looked deep into the hazel eyes, and she saw remorse there for his words. Eleanor reached out and touched his cheek. “I know you want to please your father, and the way to do that is to let things be. Andrew and I shall be happy, somehow. Since you’ve squandered your inheritance, I cannot help the slaves as your wife.”
Nathaniel flinched, and Eleanor realized he understood the truth in her words. “I need Andrew as much as he needs me. It is the way of life, I suppose. Needs and desires are very different things.”
“You don’t want to marry my brother, Ellie. You’re marrying him because you feel sorry for him. But there’s nothing to pity about Andrew, Ellie. He’s wanted you from the day you were born on Rosamond. He meant to make the plantations one, and he’ll succeed if you give him the honor. If you think your position will help the slaves as your mother’s did, you underestimate my brother.”
“How dare you, Nathaniel! How dare you accuse your brother of such vile things! He loves me.” But deep down she questioned her own words. How could she help but do anything less? Andrew had never whispered words of love to her. He’d never placed gentle touches upon her arm as Nathaniel did so naturally. But that isn’t love, she told herself. Love was commitment and being there—not a passing emotion. Andrew had been there while Nathaniel flitted about the country.
“He’s trained himself to love you, Ellie. Can’t you see that?”
“Stop calling me that childish name. I’m not a child, Nathaniel! I’m sorry you feel your brother must be trained to love me, like a circus performer. Is it such a chore? Then why should you want to plow through life with such a dreary task?” Eleanor turned her shoulder to the man she had once loved. Every time he whispered her name she withered a bit. Did Andrew love her? Could anyone after she’d been the object of so much conjecture following Nathaniel’s departure?
“I didn’t mean—”
“The Nathaniel I knew would never be so cruel. I thought I knew everything about you. I agonized when you left. You showing up before my wedding is hard enough. Don’t make me endure more.” Eleanor wiped away a tear and tried to still her trembling frame.
Nathaniel reached for her, but she maintained her distance, trying to think of the baby she’d cradled and other more comforting thoughts of the people her marriage would help, but to no avail. She swallowed hard and looked directly into the eyes of the man she had once loved with her whole heart. As much as she feared the answer, she needed to know why Nathaniel had left.
“The town remembers how you departed. They remember me as the jilted bride, and they were right, weren’t they?” She waited for the words to sink in, but he didn’t answer her. “They said you escaped to avoid marrying me. They said your father had ordered it, and you wouldn’t be told how to live your life. I was a laughingstock, Nathaniel, at only seventeen years of age.”
Nathaniel’s eyes clouded over, and Eleanor felt as though she had been struck. “It’s true then? I am why you left.”
Nathaniel looked away into the night’s sky, and Eleanor had her answer. She marched toward the steps.
“Ellie!” Andrew’s voice beckoned her.
“I must go. My fiancé calls.” She blinked madly to keep the tears away. Only a few steps, she told herself.
As she hiked up the stairs, Nathaniel stood alone at the kitchen house, but it was she who was truly alone. Her heart ached. Nathaniel had never really loved her. He’d never loved anyone more than himself.
Chapter 3
Nathaniel stood on the back stoop of Rosamond until total darkness enveloped him. One by one, the candles and the fire were extinguished in the cookhouse, and the night became blacker. Only the great house remained lit. Eleanor came into sight, and Andrew gathered her close. Pain clenched Nathaniel’s heart. You don’t love her, Andrew. Let her go.
Nathaniel closed his eyes, unable to witness his brother and Ellie together. Andrew deserved her, he supposed, but the thought caused a sour feeling in Nathaniel’s stomach. Andrew stayed and fought, Andrew cared for the plantation, and Andrew stood up to be a groom, while fear sent Nathaniel bolting like a frightened catfish.
Where was he when Ellie had grown into a beautiful young woman? Had California offered him anything so special?
“Won’t do you no good to stand there feeling sorry for yourself.” Eleanor’s childhood maid, Hattie, stood at the back step, beating a rug. She focused on her project and spoke of the decorated textile. “Surprised we got anything left after them Yankees stormed through here. A painting here and there, a rug, a few plates. We done hid the silver; they didn’t get that.” Hattie smiled with what appeared satisfaction.
“You think I feel sorry for myself?” Nathaniel walked toward her.
“Who wouldn’t? We done all had a time of it, but thinking about it don’t help none.” Hattie took a stick to the rug. “Why you men can’t wipe your feet outside, I never will understand.”
“She’s going to marry my brother.”
Hattie shrugged. “You’re just lucky she didn’t do it six years ago. Consider it your penance you should watch the wedding.” Hattie placed the beaten rug over the stair rail and came toward him. “Let her be, Master Pemberton. Your brother will make her happy, and the sooner things return to normal, the better. Life’s been too hard for too long. A wedding will help things heal.”
The Prodigal's Welcome Page 2
