by Denney, Hope
“It’s a thrilling way to meet the girl you’re going to marry, Joseph, but how did it take so long to meet Fairlee when the Buchanans are such close neighbors?” asked Victoria.
“Evelyn Buchanan is Mr. Buchanan’s second wife. He was a widower when they married, and Fairlee spent most of her young years in school,” said Joseph. “She has opinions about everything. She’s splendid to talk with.”
“They argue a good bit, too,” said Somerset, “but I can’t deny that seems to be a large part of the attraction. Do you think she’ll stay this time, Joseph? Did she hint in any of your correspondences?”
“I intend to convince her to stay this time. I’d like to be settled.”
“So would I,” added Victoria.
“There aren’t many men left to marry,” acknowledged Joseph. “Those who made it home aren’t healthy either, so you wouldn’t want to marry them. I think girls do well to take their time and be picky choosing because you don’t know what you’re getting in a man who came from the army.”
Somerset studied Victoria’s youthful features. She was pretty with her clear white skin and long dark curls. She had inherited their mother’s red full lips and high cheekbones. She was slender but round. She had become quieter and more sensitive since the war, particularly after the violence of Wilson’s raid, but she was eager to make more friends and find her place in life. Warren was her child, although few in Century Grove acknowledged it, and it handicapped her chances of finding a husband. Somerset hoped that Sawyer would be willing to let Victoria and Warren live with them when married. He played big brother to Victoria, chatting with her while he waited for Somerset most evenings, and took Warren on frequent horseback rides and carved toys for him, so she felt optimistic. Somerset believed getting them both away from Blanche’s overreaching style of motherhood would help them grow the most.
Joseph clapped his hands.
“Buchanan’s Loft is just ahead and Fairlee is only minutes away from me.”
Buchanan’s Loft sat at the top of the hill they were ascending. It was the oldest house in Century Grove and one of the smallest. Somerset, completely entranced with the unique touches of her own home, felt that the Greek revival plantation lacked a good deal of charm. It was in need of repairs. Mr. Buchanan had lost more money during the war than any of their neighbors during the war. She knew Joseph hoped to help turn things around for them after he and Fairlee married.
She pulled up to the house. There were only two hired servants left at the Loft so Somerset climbed down over the wheel of the wagon and secured Hector to the hitching post. She gave a hand to Victoria and helped her down. Then they reached up and grabbed Joseph on each side as he managed to clumsily slide on his bottom out of the wagon and land hard on his good leg. Somerset supported him on his weak side while Victoria retrieved his cane from the seat. Joseph panted from the exertion but his eyes were free of pain as they followed close behind him up the front steps.
They paused outside the door.
“Fairlee hasn’t had time to get a proper meal much less bathe and change after traveling,” whispered Somerset. “We’ll keep this visit brief, and maybe everyone will be open to us returning again.”
Victoria nodded in agreement, but Joseph turned his back and clunked the door knocker loud enough that it echoed.
Sounds of shuffling and much rearranging within the house met their ears. Joseph knocked again, louder. The door inched open, and Evelyn Buchanan’s hard features greeted them.
“Good afternoon,” said Somerset.
“Yes?”
Evelyn smiled as only a lady would as she took in the sight of three unannounced adults crowding her front porch. Her aquiline face prevented her from looking neighborly, so no matter how she felt, she seemed to be suppressing a bit of a sneer.
“Mother has been meaning to send you some of her preserves and she also sent some of Bess’s liniment because she knows how Mr. Buchanan likes it,” said Somerset.
“Thank Mrs. Forrest for me,” Evelyn said. “Mr. Buchanan’s back has been in a frightful state since the spring, and I know he’ll appreciate it. Mr. Forrest, are you almost recovered?”
The door didn’t open any wider, although Somerset held the heavy basket out.
She could hear the underlying message in the words as they were spoken: that Evelyn wasn’t going to mention Fairlee to them and give them excuse to come in, that she was prepared to stand at the door and play cordial all day without inviting them in or telling them to leave, that she was still showing more manners than any of them because times are busy and one can’t just show up uninvited to someone’s home and expect the world to stop.
Somerset forced the basket into the opening of the door so that Evelyn would have to take it from her.
“My leg is improving,” said Joseph. “I didn’t know you knew of my accident. It hurts a good deal to stand on it as you can see, but I’m out of danger now. I’m not allowed to work yet, but it is such a nice day I thought I’d accompany my sisters out to drop their parcel off.”
A shower of footsteps scattered down the staircase like buckshot.
“I hear voices! We have visitors. Do I hear Joseph? Oh, it can’t be!”
With that the door flung wide open and Fairlee’s beaming face greeted them all.
“Somerset, it isn’t fair that you’ve grown better looking. You brought Victoria, too! Hello, dear. I don’t believe my eyes. Joseph Forrest, oh my word. You and that cane!”
Fairlee’s large curls bounced as she embraced each girl. Then she looked up at Joseph with eyes far mistier than Somerset could believe, given her jovial tone, and, mindless of his cane, she hugged him despite Evelyn’s presence.
“Come in. Come in!”
She ushered them into the house. The victory wasn’t hers, but Somerset couldn’t help but feel smug as she nodded at Mrs. Buchanan on her way in.
Fairlee looked well, as Sawyer had said. Her hair was buttery and her eyes were full of mirth. She was almost as tall as Joseph and her figure was still buxom. She wore the sapphire ring Joseph presented her with as an engagement ring, which Thomas gave to Blanche on her sixteenth birthday. Somerset felt blatant relief that Fairlee wasn’t dressed to the nines. She was in a pink gingham work dress that made her peachy complexion glow, but she was bedraggled from the train ride. Joseph was looking at her the way Somerset imagined a hanging man might survey the ground.
“Sit down,” said Fairlee. “I’d hoped you might stop in, but I didn’t actually believe you would. Titus just took my trunk upstairs. Were you afraid I wouldn’t come visit you, Joseph?”
Joseph, too stunned for words for the second time in life, stumbled over some witty rejoinder and chewed his tongue.
Somerset took a seat on the davenport and accepted a cup of coffee from a tray that Mrs. Buchanan summoned for them. The good lady disappeared from the room, checking to see what food was in the house in case her guests stayed for dinner.
“He thought we should meet you at the depot,” she said as she sipped. “I hope you’ll forgive us for stumbling in like this when you’re undoubtedly tired, hungry, and at loose ends. It wasn’t the most civilized behavior for all of us to pile in on you like this, we admit, but Joseph felt compelled to come here and see you today.”
Fairlee sat down on the settee facing Somerset and patted the seat next to her with a beckoning look at Joseph.
“Don’t tell me you came all this way on a lame leg just to stand across the room and gape at me,” she laughed. “I’ve missed you, Joseph! Come sit beside me!”
Fairlee’s laughter crawled across the room, making Somerset think of dripping honey.
Joseph bounded across the room—if a crippled man could be said to bound—and sat down beside Fairlee with a groan. She reached out to take his cane from him, and he took her hand, kissed it, and then laid it for a moment on his cheek with such a lack of inhibition that Somerset and Victoria looked at the braided rugs on the floor.
“C
ouldn’t you have come home sooner?” he asked. His voice was husky.
“No, I couldn’t have,” said Fairlee. She sounded unapologetic. “Grandmother Faulks is terribly sick, and with Aunt Rowena still in Atlanta, there was nothing else to do. If my mother were living it would be different, of course, but there aren’t many remedies for lack of family, are there? Aunt Rowena should sell everything in Atlanta by the end of fall if we’re lucky and be completely settled at Grandmother’s by winter.”
“You’ll be back and forth until then?” asked Joseph.
“I’ll be here for two weeks, and then I won’t be home again until winter.”
“How is your grandmother?” asked Victoria.
“She has a weak heart. The doctors say she shouldn’t be alive, but the Faulks are all long-lived. She’s bed bound now.”
“I can sympathize,” winced Joseph.
“You poor thing! I felt relieved when I first saw you. The reports were so dreadful I didn’t know what I’d come home to, but you look like yourself, only with a cane. Do you hurt much?”
“I thought I’d tell you it doesn’t trouble me much at all, but now that you’re here, I have to say it hurts all the time. It hurts worse than any injury I had during the war.”
“You’re up. You’re walking. It’s more than I expected. When Somerset wrote that you were battling a terrible infection, I was sure you’d lose the leg. It took every drop of self-restraint I had not to jump on the train and come down here.”
“I won’t always have the cane,” Joseph assured her. “They tell me I’ll limp for the rest of my life. I can’t stand it, the idea of anyone looking at me with pity.”
“Better some stranger to look at you with pity than for your family to look at your headstone with regret,” said Fairlee. “Maybe you’ll reconsider law after all this?”
“I don’t believe so. The idea of sitting at a desk reading and writing all day seems remarkably unlike anything I want to do.”
Fairlee’s mouth tipped down in disappointment, but she was quick to smile again.
“I want to know every little old thing that happened while I was gone. I want to hear all about who married and had babies and who quarreled and broke up.”
“You may have been gone for two years,” said Victoria, “but I don’t think you missed anything.”
“Things don’t happen in Century Grove,” agreed Joseph.
“Nonsense,” scoffed Fairlee. “You were nearly killed. I doubt you were the only person something happened to while I was gone.”
“Helen had another baby last week,” supplied Somerset. “It was a little boy. They named him after George. He looks just like George, too, minus the mutton chop whiskers.”
“Which is to say, better looking than Helen,” whispered Joseph near Fairlee’s smooth neck.
She giggled and snorted.
Helen was a disappointment in a family full of attractive children. Thomas said she looked like a second edition of his mother, but that was not true, in that Mrs. Forrest had been pretty. Helen didn’t possess a single remarkable feature. Her hair was drab brown as were her eyes, and her mouth was small and pale set in a colorless face. Her figure was thick and graceless. Somerset agreed with Joseph’s assessment of “stodgy,” and sadly, her personality matched her appearance. Her looks came as a double blow to the family having been born after Theodore, who showcased every attractive feature the Marshalls were known for.
Victoria pretended not to hear and Somerset continued.
“Amelia and Mother are still fighting. This is the second summer Amelia hasn’t wanted to visit Orchard Rest. Mother frets that Theodore Junior and Elizabeth will love Amelia’s parents more than they love her and Papa. I can’t console her because they all live with Amelia’s parents and Charleston is a long way off. It isn’t as though she can force them to abandon life at the indigo foundry and come here.”
“Let’s see. Theodore inherited the foundry when Amelia’s father passed away. Is that right?” asked Fairlee.
“Yes, Mr. Winfree took ill not long after the war ended. Theodore arrived home less than a year before Mr. Winfree passed away,” remarked Joseph.
“Amelia and Blanche never got along,” remembered Fairlee. “Blanche was proud to have a son who took after her family and to name him after the brother she lost. She wasn’t going to like any woman Teddie brought home, but the deck was stacked against Amelia from the moment Teddie noticed her because Blanche Forrest wasn’t going to like some wealthy indigo baroness from Charleston taking her boy away. Certainly not a widow. Now those two are locked in an endless battle over who loves him more.”
“It’s a pointless, superficial battle that only women could engage in,” Somerset confessed. “I’m sick of it.”
Joseph stood and tried to stretch his wounded leg.
“You’ll never guess who the biggest profit turner at Stone Gardens has been for two years running,” he said, after settling back down beside Fairlee.
“Somerset?” asked Fairlee.
“Even less likely than Somerset,” scoffed Joseph. “Mother! Mother brings in most of the money.”
“Does she take in sewing or bake?” faltered Fairlee.
Somerset laughed.
“Neither. Think poultry. She has an uncanny knack with birds. The McKennasaws’ chickens wandered out to Orchard Rest when they evacuated to Tuscaloosa, and she fed them and tended them. There were only three birds. Now we have over three hundred. She knows everything there is to know about chickens now. She sells birds, breeds birds, and sells eggs.”
“It does sound unlikely,” said Victoria, “but she can diagnose all their ailments. She’s very particular about their feed and she culls like any other farmer. We probably would have starved to death if she hadn’t taken up with those runaway chickens. It gave us plenty to do while waiting for the boys to come home.”
“Proverbially speaking, you can’t put all of your eggs in one basket at Orchard Rest,” continued Joseph. “It does irk me that a little society woman makes more money than I’m bringing in by the sweat of my brow, but food on the table is food in my stomach.”
“And you said there was nothing going on,” winked Fairlee. “I’m certain there’s more still.”
“You and I have so much to talk about that I don’t know where to begin,” Joseph said. “I’ve missed you so.”
“I’m here now. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company before I have to go away again.”
“I want you here with me. If we were married I could go with you, and you could nurse me and your grandmother at the same time.”
“I’d rather wait until Rowena comes home,” said Fairlee. “I don’t want to have my attention divided between a sick old woman and you. Marriages should be happy at the start.”
Somerset cast a worried eye at the grandfather clock in the corner.
“Would you like to come home with us, Fairlee? I promised to bring everyone back in time for supper. Mother would be glad to see you, of course. Papa should be home from Tuscaloosa tonight, too. We’ll have a party.”
“I’m afraid Daddy and Evelyn wouldn’t be very forgiving if I went away on my first evening home,” professed Fairlee. “I’ve already visited more than I meant to.”
“I’ll come see you tomorrow,” said Joseph. “Somerset will bring me every day this week.”
“She will not. I’ll come to you tomorrow.”
Somerset and Victoria rose from their seats and began to make their way back to the foyer, giving the pair some scant privacy before their departure.
“I’ve only just laid eyes on you,” Joseph could be heard murmuring through the doorway.
“You’ll have a whole lifetime to lay eyes on me,” retorted Fairlee. “Come, are you really going to play the lovesick schoolboy, Joseph?”
“I hear the sarcasm in your voice, but it isn’t in your face. I can sneak out later and have Tuck bring me.”
“I can see the strain this visit has brought
on you. You’ll go to bed tonight and get a sound sleep in before I arrive tomorrow so that I don’t feel guilty visiting.”
“Fairlee, I don’t want to leave.”
A heavy pause sat on the air that could have only been a kiss. Then:
“We have two weeks of paradise ahead of us, Joseph. We have two whole weeks of eating on the porch together and arguing agriculture on the lake. The horseback rides and dances seem to be on hold, but I can sacrifice anything and see our time together as perfect. I missed you.”
The ride home was a contemplative one. Somerset discarded the memory of visiting with Fairlee in order to relive the happiness she felt upon seeing Sawyer in the road. He said he would come for her. In her mind all romances were inferior to her own. She witnessed the shades of tenderness and love between Fairlee and Joseph and still managed to feel pity for them because they couldn’t love as she loved.
***
Blanche threw them a smile of approval when they arrived early for the evening meal. Somerset noticed the empty glass of wine at her mother’s elbow but saw her narrow shoulders relax when they walked into the dining room. Joseph excused himself for not feeling well, and Franklin helped him up to his room to lie down. Victoria wanted to freshen up before eating.
“Was it a pleasant outing?” she asked as Warren brandished a peacock feather with a mighty yell.
“It was,” said Somerset, pulling out a chair. “Sometimes I forget that there are women other than in our family and Ivy in the world.”
“I suppose Evelyn was furious at us?”
“She will have told everyone in the county by sundown,” admitted Somerset. “It felt satisfying to make her angry somehow. I must have inherited the family contrariness, Mother.”
Blanche refilled her glass.
“How did Joseph and Fairlee do?”
“I don’t know. It was clear that they missed each other deeply. Either they are learning wisdom or they won’t make it.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Blanche.
“They didn’t argue once.”
***
Chapter 4
