The Courageous Brides Collection
Page 32
Joseph let William and the slave family out at the end of the alley leading to the Peck house then drove the buggy back to its owner.
After hiding the others under the willow tree, William skirted the bushes until he reached the house. Dottie opened the door before he could tap on it, then drew him inside. “Where are they?”
“Under the willow tree.”
“Shug will go fetch them.”
“But I—”
“Don’t argue.” She nodded at her daughter then bowed her head in prayer. “We need to pray them in.”
He joined her in heartfelt prayer for Shug and the others. They didn’t stop praying until the family slipped into the cellar.
Dottie examined the newcomers. “You all follow my daughter through that low door over there.” She pointed then handed the male slave some food and water in a basket.
They followed Shug. William heard muted voices from the small room.
Dottie leaned in and warned them to be very quiet, especially from sunup to sundown, and to open the door only if they heard a special knock. She demonstrated the knock, then Shug closed the door on her way out.
William studied the wall but could no longer see the outline of a door.
A faint cry sounded through the wall. Dottie coughed for a minute then spoke: “If the baby cries again, we need to come up with some other sounds—drop a heavy lid or laugh or sing or something.”
William nodded. “Hiding a baby does complicate things, so we need to act fast. Do you all know anyone who moves slaves in town?” Their eyes studied the floor. “I don’t need to know names, just enough to help. Send word to me at the hotel. I mailed a letter to my parents to expect a package soon. If we can get them to Ripley, my dad will take care of the rest.”
A smile of hope crossed Dottie’s face as she pointed heavenward. “My Father will, too.”
William departed, wishing he could have seen Elinor, but he knew their relationship would have to wait a little longer.
Elinor lay in bed Thursday night, wondering what the morrow would bring. She hadn’t heard anything from William. Her parents told her the lawyer would be visiting again for supper on Friday, and they expected her to take a walk with him afterward.
She fell asleep praying for God’s leading in all the decisions she had to make.
The next morning when Shug came upstairs to help her dress, Elinor whispered, “Have you seen William? What about the slaves?”
Shug spoke against her ear. “Too dangerous to talk inside. Maybe we can walk outside later.”
Elinor fumed but knew Shug was right.
After breakfast, she went to find Mother. “I need some pink thread for Shug to mend a dress. Can we walk downtown while it’s not too hot?”
“No, I need you to stay around here today. Send Shug with a piece of thread to match then meet me in the parlor. We need to plan a party.”
“What kind of party?”
“We’ll discuss it after you send Shug.”
After sending Shug on her errand, Elinor entered the parlor.
Mother turned, eyes beaming. “Your father told me Mr. Humphries has asked for your hand in marriage. We must plan an engagement party.”
Elinor sank down onto the sofa. She drew in a fortifying breath. “But I hardly know the man.”
Her mother walked over and touched her shoulder. “Most brides and grooms don’t know each other very well. That will come with time, my dear.”
She had to make her understand. “I don’t even like the man. I can’t marry him.”
Mother stood and drew herself up straight. “You can learn to like him, and you will marry him if your father and I deem it best for you. Now—”
Elinor ran from the room and up the stairs. The rustle of silk told her Mother followed. She closed the door then threw herself on the bed.
Her mother opened the door. “We only want what is best for you, dear. You will be downstairs before six, ready for dinner, or I will send your father up after you.” She left the room. God, please give me the courage to do what needs to be done.
Elinor penned a letter to William then watched out the window for Shug’s return. When Shug appeared, Elinor sped down two flights of stairs into the cellar. “Let’s walk outside.”
Shug glanced at her mother, who nodded. Once outside, she handed over the thread.
Elinor pushed the package back toward her. “I want you to exchange it for a lighter shade then take another letter to William.”
Her friend rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
Elinor strode down the path.
Shug asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Father’s new assistant wants to marry me, and my parents approve. I refused. You must take this letter to William.” She let the paper and her handkerchief fall.
Shug bent, pocketed the note, and then handed the handkerchief back to Elinor. “Then what?”
“Wait to see what he tells you, exchange the thread, then return. Bring me word as soon as you can. I’ll be in my room.”
As Shug left, Elinor prayed for God to work this out. She had done all she knew to do.
William was planing boards so didn’t see anyone until Shug appeared beside the tree. He inched his way over so she could hear him, then turned his back on her. “Is something wrong with one of our new friends?”
“No. Miss Elinor sent me with a letter.” She dropped the note then moved away. “I have to go to the mercantile, but I’ll return soon for your answer.”
He lifted his water from the ground and sat in the shade of the tree for a drink. After opening the paper, he held it close to his chest.
W,
I am so upset. Father’s new apprentice has asked for my hand in marriage. I refused to consider it, but he’s coming over for supper tonight. I do not want to do anything to put your friends in jeopardy, but if not for them, I wish we could run away now. The only thing I can think to do is refuse him and hope my parents will send me to my aunt’s again. I trust you’ll be able to find me after our friends are safe.
His heart raced at her signature—Your Elinor. He longed to go find her right now and steal her away. She understood he had to honor his commitment to the slaves first, but later he would find her no matter where they sent her.
He entered the back of the hotel and asked the cook for a pencil and paper.
“No paper, just a pencil stub.”
He took it. “Be right back.” Behind the tree, he flipped her letter over and wrote his answer.
My dearest E,
I am so sorry this is happening and that we might be separated again. I appreciate your unselfishness inputting others before yourself. Be assured I will find you wherever you may be. I pray it won’t be long.
Your W
He left the note behind the tree, praying Elinor would be bolstered by his letter as much as he was by hers.
“Elinor, come down here now.” She jumped at her father’s penetrating voice, then stood and straightened her skirts and her back. He could not force her to marry someone she did not like or respect.
As she descended the stairs, she noticed her mother in tears beside him. Mother’s tears would not persuade her, either.
“Terrible news, dear,” Mother sobbed. “That scoundrel has been sent packing.”
Looking from Mother to Father, Elinor waited for more explanation before saying anything. Scoundrel? Who?
Father pointed toward the parlor. “Let’s sit down, and I’ll explain.”
She followed them then sat beside Mother, who continued to sob.
“I stepped out of the office this afternoon but had to return when I realized I’d left some important papers on my desk. I could hear Mr. Humphries speaking. He was telling the man his plan was working to marry you, move out to the farm, then take your pretty slave girl as his own. He would beat you and her both if needed to keep you in line.”
Mother wailed again. “Our poor baby. How could she have sent word to us?”
; A stunned Elinor couldn’t speak. She’d heard of babies born to slaves who were lighter brown, but it was a hushed topic. She remembered the women in Washington telling her a wife had no rights—their property belonged to their husband upon marriage.
Father stood and paced. “I told him if he wasn’t out of town within the hour, I would tell Sheriff Jones of his plans. If he ever returned to our area, I would prosecute him myself.” He took Elinor’s hand and drew her into his arms. “I’m so sorry I let myself be fooled by his smooth talk and money. I’m happy you were able to see his true character. I promise I’ll never bid you marry anyone you don’t choose for yourself.”
She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Father, for your confidence in me. I’ll let you know when I find the man I want to marry—someone honorable like you.” Soon, very soon.
Two weeks later
Elinor awaited the arrival of William for dinner. He’d returned from the successful week-long journey taking the slaves to his parents’ farm. Then Elinor sent word to her uncle, and he’d invited Father to the hotel for lunch a couple of days ago so he could see for himself what a hard worker William was. Father told Mother last night they would be entertaining William Chandler for dinner the following evening. He liked what he had seen and heard of the man and planned to give him another chance. He’d instructed his brother to reinstate William as his apprentice.
William arrived with two rosebuds. He bowed and handed one to her mother. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Peck.”
Mother smiled and nodded.
As William placed the flower in Elinor’s palm, heat flowed from his hand to hers. “Thank you, Mr. Chandler.”
“Two roses for two beautiful ladies.”
Father nodded at William. “Would you do the honor of escorting my daughter to dinner while I escort my wife?”
With a grin, William crooked his elbow while turning toward her. “May I have the privilege, Miss Peck?”
“Certainly.” More heat radiated between them as their arms connected.
Dinner went as usual, with small talk and several furtive glances between her and William, and some looks from Mother to Father. Once when Mother turned her head toward Dottie, Father sent Elinor a wink.
After dessert had been served, Father stood. “I have an announcement to make.” Looking first at William and Elinor, then at his wife, he continued. “William has asked for Elinor’s hand in marriage, and I have given my consent.”
Mother gasped then covered her mouth with her napkin and coughed. She looked at William then toward her husband. “I hope I will have time to prepare the wedding we’ve always dreamed of.” She sought Elinor’s eyes. “We couldn’t be ready for months.”
Elinor smiled. “I’ve always wanted a Christmas wedding.”
Father raised his glass in a toast. “A December wedding it is. Congratulations to my daughter and the man who will make her happy.”
William’s gaze held hers. “I promise I always will.”
Epilogue
December 1854
As Elinor Chandler climbed the steps of the modest house her parents had given her and William when they married twenty-one years ago, she remembered each addition they had added as their family grew and William’s practice increased with the size of their town. She loved Cynthiana but worried about the divisions she saw growing between slaveholders and non–slave owners.
Shug was still her best friend and now served Elinor as a freewoman with her own house and family on the back of the property. William had agreed to her plans before their wedding. Today they would be giving the first of their five children away in marriage.
Elinor tapped on Elizabeth’s door.
“Come in.”
She held the package behind her as she entered. Her breath whooshed out at the lovely sight of her firstborn daughter in the mirror. When had she grown from the toddler to this tall, beautiful woman? “You know the saying, ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“A present arrived yesterday in the post.” She handed her daughter the package.
Elizabeth stood and drew her into a hug. “You and Father have already given me too much.”
“It’s a special gift from a special person. Remember the woman I took you to visit in Cincinnati? You named her Aunt Harriet.”
“Of course, you called her the small woman with the big ideas.”
Elinor laughed. “She still has big ideas and has written her second book, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. It’s causing quite a stir across the country. I wrote and asked her to send me an autographed copy and one for you as a wedding present.”
Her daughter tore off the paper and read the inscription above the signature. “To Elizabeth, may you find the hidden courage inside you as your mother did when she was your age. Aunt Harriet.” She wiped a tear from her eye.
“No tears on the happiest day of your life.”
“I love you, Mother, and I so admire your and Father’s courage. I will cherish this book and all you and he have taught me. I want to teach my own children to be as courageous as you both in standing up for what is right even when it is unpopular or even dangerous.”
Elinor hugged her daughter again. “With God’s help, I know you will.”
Old-Fashioned Molasses Cookies Recipe
½ cup butter, softened
½ cup lard (or substitute additional butter or margarine)
1½ cups sugar, plus extra for dipping
½ cup molasses
2 eggs
4 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon cloves
1½ teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cream butter and lard (or substitute) with sugar. Beat in molasses and eggs. In separate bowl, combine dry ingredients. Add to creamed sugar mixture and blend. Dough will be stiff. Shape dough into small balls. Dip into small bowl of sugar. Place sugar side up on greased cookie sheet and bake for 8 to 9 minutes. Cool and store. Makes about 4 dozen.
Rose Allen McCauley has been writing for over a decade and has four books published. She is thrilled for this to be her second novella collection with Barbour. A retired schoolteacher who has been happily married to her college sweetheart for over forty years, she enjoys their growing family of three children and their spouses and five lovely, lively grandkids! She loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her through her website www.rosemccauley.com or twitter @RoseAMcCauley and Facebook.
The Encumbered Bride
by Donita Kathleen Paul
Chapter One
Colorado
Giggles? Giggles did not fit with the pounding headache.
Girly giggles. His nieces? No, he wasn’t at home. Horses. He’d been on a buying trip. Girly giggles did not fit with horses. Nor with the throbbing ache in his leg.
One side of Grant’s chest felt heavy. On two points in that mass of searing pain, it felt like someone deliberately pushed fists into his sore ribs.
Did he fall? Yes! Off his horse. Yes, but something else. A cliff. He fell off a cliff? Was he even alive? Giggles and pain weren’t a part of any heaven he’d heard described.
Not quite a cliff. He’d rolled.
“Get off him!” A bossy voice. A little girl, but not one of his nieces.
The heaviness lifted along with the points of added pressure.
“I’m suppose to watch for him to wake up. Lucy said he’d wake up.” Younger, sweeter, still girly.
“Come back. Your baby doll woke up. Don’t you hear her crying? She needs supper.”
Grant tried to open his eyes. Leaden. Weighted down by pain and exhaustion. Never been so tired. Where were the little girls? Were they even real? He strained his ears. Rustling, whispers, giggles. Giggles didn’t belong in a room full of heat and sweat and pain. Lots of pain. Dark pain.
Cool water brought him out of the shifting tide
s of unconsciousness. His head swam. Dribbles ran down his chin and around his neck. Water. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like cotton to a dung heap. A drink. One drink.
Why couldn’t he open his eyes?
“He is smelly.” That voice again. Bossy.
“Lucy said he’s gonna die if he doesn’t ever wake up.” A loud sniff and a choked sob.
“He’s not going to die.”
“Lucy said.”
“Deacon said he wouldn’t.”
“Lucy said.”
“No more Lucy. Wipe up your spills.”
A wet cloth dragged up his arm and down again.
Through sniffles, the younger voice spoke again. “Lucy said she won’t have nothin’ to do with him if he’s dirty and stinky and gonna die anyway.”
“Deacon won’t let him die.”
“Deacon’s not here.”
“Stop washing his face.” Bossy again.
“This stuff won’t come off.” A rag dabbed at his cheeks. Water dribbled into his ear.
“That’s whiskers. Man hair. Whiskers don’t wash off.”
Whiskers? How long had he been in this bed? Where was he? Deacon? Lucy? Were they the adults? Where were they?
“Minnie Sue, you not the boss of me.”
“I am. You see anyone else here to be the boss?”
Big sniff. No answer. A rag plopped over his forehead, eyes, nose, and to his neck. Water dribbled with each swipe.
“Dip your washcloth in the bowl, and wring it out good this time. Do his chest around the bandages.”
“That’s hairy, too.” A whine strained each word. “More whiskers?”
“No. Stop complaining.”
The wet cloth swabbed at his collarbone.
“I’m gonna be four, and you can’t boss me when I’m four.”
“Wring that out more. I can always boss you, because I’m five. I will always be older than you.”
“I’ll catch up.”
“Don’t be silly.”
The water actually felt good. His little angels might be sloppy at their job, but the cool cloth, the dribbling water, and the slight shifting of his arm relieved some of his discomfort. And if he relaxed, he might enjoy their gentle bickering. He liked spending time with his nieces and nephews.