Mississippi Brides

by Diane T. Ashley,Aaron McCarver

  Nathan bowed to Abigail and held out his arm. “Miss LeGrand?”

  She put her hand on his arm. The contact, even through the material of his coat, made her fingers tremble.

  “You are cold.” He placed his hand over hers.

  Abigail could feel her mother’s concerned gaze. “I’m fine.” The words were for both of them.

  Nathan led her to a chair and pulled it out for her.

  She sat down with a sigh of relief. How foolish to have worn the heavy woolen shawl. She could even feel a prickle of heat where it covered her back. Feeling trapped, she squirmed in the chair and tried to ease the shawl away from her arms so she could cool off a little.

  He sat opposite her and spoke easily to both her parents. Abigail offered little to the conversation, but she enjoyed watching the expressions cross the new pastor’s face. He was not as rustic as one might have thought for a man raised in an untamed corner of Tennessee. She learned that he’d sold all his worldly goods before leaving to work under an itinerant pastor for a year. She admired his ability to walk away from all that was familiar to him and put his faith in God. Abigail wished she had that much courage.

  “Don’t you agree, Abigail?” Papa’s voice garnered her attention.

  What was the question? She glanced from one of the faces to the other. “I…uh…yes, I agree.”

  From the shocked look on her mother’s face, her answer was wrong. Papa coughed and hid his mouth behind his napkin for a moment, apparently laughing at her. When he put it back down in his lap, his expression was matter of fact. “Well, since that’s settled, we’ll see you the first thing in the morning, Nathan. I know you and Abigail will have a good time on your outing.”

  Her mother pushed back her chair. “Why don’t we retire to the parlor, Abigail, and leave the men to join us in a few minutes.”

  Abigail nodded and pushed back her own chair, relieved the meal was over but concerned about what she had gotten herself into by not attending the conversation more closely. The material of her dress tautened at the waist, squeezing her stomach as she rose from the table. Then she felt a pop and the material loosened. With a gasp, she grabbed her shawl and pulled it back up to her shoulders. Would the evening never end?

  “I am pleased you agreed to take Nathan to town tomorrow. He’ll probably want to visit his new church, and I’m sure he’ll be interested in seeing the orphanage. He has such a good heart. I know he’ll want to work with them like Pastor Ogden used to do.” Her mother took her usual place on the horsehair sofa and patted the space next to her. “Is something wrong, dear? You didn’t seem your usual self at dinner. Are you feeling poorly?” She laid her hand on Abigail’s forehead. “You’re burning up!”

  Abigail stopped her mother from raising an alarm by grabbing her hand. “I’m fine. I just had a little trouble getting dressed.”

  Her mother sat back against the sofa. “I thought Jemma helped you. I know she did your hair.”

  “Yes, but I was so…so wrapped up in daydreams that I sent her away too soon.” Abigail bit her lip. She’d almost admitted her distraction. Where was her mind tonight? She needed to pull herself together. “I…I must not have gotten the back buttoned up properly.”

  Her mother choked back a laugh. “So that’s why you are wearing your winter shawl.”

  Abigail’s face flushed. “Yes, ma’am. I feel like such an idiot, but I couldn’t explain.”

  “I can see you were in a quandary.” Mama’s eyes danced, increasing Abigail’s misery. “Let me see if I can fix it before the men come in.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “When I got up from the table, I’m pretty sure one of the buttons broke off and rolled under the table. I only hope Na—Brother Pierce—doesn’t find it.”

  This time her mother could not control her laughter. She giggled, snorted, and hooted.

  At first Abigail wanted to be offended, but then the humor of the situation got through to her. She joined her mother, and soon they were holding onto each other, tears streaming down their faces.

  Nathan wondered what could possibly be so hilarious to Mrs. LeGrand and her daughter. Had they been laughing at him? He shrugged off the thought. They surely had more interesting topics of conversation than the habits of a newcomer.

  “What are the two of you laughing about?” His host asked the question he would have liked to ask.

  “It’s nothing.” Mrs. LeGrand took out a handkerchief and dried her eyes. “Only a discussion about la–ladies’ fashions.” A giggle threatened to choke her words. “I’m sure it would bore you men.”

  Nathan followed Mrs. LeGrand’s gaze to Abigail’s face, which had turned bright red. He felt like an interloper within this intimate family gathering. The closeness of the LeGrand family set off a feeling of loneliness inside him. He had no idea why.

  Wait. Hadn’t he decided to devote his time and energy to the Lord? Wasn’t it essential for him to do so because of his past actions? His future did not include a family, so he’d better get his mind focused on what really mattered.

  A silver service dominated the table in front of the sofa, and the rich aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. He took one of the two chairs facing the sofa on the far side of the table while Mr. LeGrand seated himself in the other. Mrs. LeGrand poured a cup of the dark brew and handed it to him. He waited to sample the coffee until she had finished serving everyone.

  Mr. LeGrand swallowed a mouthful of his coffee and sat back with a sigh. “Excellent, Alexandra.”

  “Thank you, dear.” She turned her dark gaze on Nathan. “Why don’t you tell us what things are like in Chattanooga. I know it must have been awful to witness the trials of the Cherokee.”

  “Yes.” His cup rattled as he put it back in its saucer. “The loss of life was most unfortunate.”

  Abigail’s eyes opened wide. “Unfortunate?”

  He could feel his cheeks burning. Apparently he had not been forceful enough in his description. While he had never condoned the removal, he had understood President Jackson’s reason for doing so.

  Mr. LeGrand cleared his throat and shook his head at Abigail as soon as she looked in his direction. “Yes, it was terrible. Forcing people to leave their homes is a harsh solution.”

  Mrs. LeGrand nodded her agreement before turning to him. “Do you keep in touch with your relatives, Brother Pierce?”

  “I’m afraid I have no relatives left. My parents died when I was a young boy. I was raised by my aunt and uncle and inherited their store after they passed away.” Although he was grateful for the change of subject, Nathan didn’t want to go into any detail about Uncle Richard’s demise. His death in prison after the conviction of kidnapping was not something the LeGrands needed to know. “Why don’t you tell me more about Magnolia Plantation? Has it been in your family for generations?”

  Mr. LeGrand laughed. “Actually I purchased Magnolia about twenty-five years ago, after I arrived in Natchez.”

  “Is that right? I cannot imagine anyone wanting to leave such a beautiful home.”

  “It’s a long story, but the short version is that Judah Hughes and I came to a mutually beneficial agreement. You’ll meet him before long. He and his wife, Susannah, manage a very successful shipping business in town.”

  “My husband is being modest, as usual.” Mrs. LeGrand tossed a fond look at her spouse. “He brought Magnolia Plantation back from the edge of ruin after Judah was wounded in the Battle of New Orleans. If not for him, Judah might not have made it back to Natchez. When they did arrive, my husband rolled up his sleeves and joined the slaves out in the fields.”

  “In the Lord’s eyes, I’m no better than any other man.”

  “Papa set all of our slaves free as soon as he bought the plantation.” Abigail’s face showed her pride.

  “That’s interesting.” Nathan’s brows furrowed. “I thought all the planters here depended on slave labor to harvest their crops.”

  “Yes, bu
t I felt setting the slaves free and paying them for their services was a better and more humane way to run this plantation,” Mr. LeGrand said. “And you can see for yourself that we have a comfortable lifestyle.”

  “You supply the land?”

  Mr. LeGrand nodded. “And comfortable housing, as well as some of the seed.”

  “Jeremiah is careful to make sure all of our tenants have everything they need, and then he takes a very small percentage of the proceeds from them,” Mrs. LeGrand added.

  “What do your neighbors think of your system?”

  Abigail leaned forward and put her cup and saucer on the table. “They don’t much like it, but it’s hard to argue with success. Everyone in Natchez knows about our sharecroppers. They’d like nothing better than for Magnolia Plantation to fail, but every year we do better than before.”

  “The Lord has blessed us.” Mrs. LeGrand dropped a lump of sugar into her coffee and stirred. “So how can we hold a grudge against those who do not agree with us?”

  Nathan sensed the LeGrands were not telling the whole story. Slavery was an issue many people felt strongly about. This family had probably had to endure snubs and slurs for their stance, if not worse. They were to be admired.

  He wondered if that was why Abigail was unmarried. She certainly had a keen mind. He found himself watching her as she spoke to her parents. Except for a tendency to fidget, she seemed an excellent choice for some lucky suitor. And she would obviously inherit this beautiful estate. She probably had a multitude of young men pursuing her and her family’s wealth. Perhaps she even enjoyed their attention and encouraged them to vie against each other. He ran a finger under the collar of his shirt and wondered why the idea of her flirting with a string of hopeful beaus made him feel uncomfortable.

  He shook off the feeling and smiled at Mr. and Mrs. LeGrand. “This has been a pleasant evening, but I believe it’s time for me to return to my new home. Thank you for inviting me for dinner.” He pushed himself up with an effort. The long wearisome trip had apparently caught up with him. Every muscle in his body ached, and he felt like he was at least one hundred years old.

  “We are so excited to have you here.” Mrs. LeGrand’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “I hope you will join us for meals whenever you are here. Even though the cottage has a kitchen, you’ll probably find it easier to simply show up here. There’s always plenty to go around.”

  Mr. LeGrand stood up. “Yes, there is.” He patted his flat stomach. “And I need help to keep from getting so heavy I can’t work out in the fields.”

  Nathan laughed. “I’m sure you can outwork me any day of the week.”

  “Get a good night’s sleep, Pastor.” Abigail folded her hands in her lap. “We can leave right after breakfast.”

  He bowed to her and her mother. “Thank you for your warm welcome, ladies. I never dreamed I would enjoy such luxury as all of this. And thank you, especially, Miss LeGrand, for making time for me tomorrow. Good night.”

  Nathan left the plantation home and walked across the manicured lawn to his new home, enjoying the serenade of the crickets. What a peaceful place this was. He glanced up at the twinkling stars in the velvety sky above. “Thank You, God.”

  Weariness settled on his shoulders as he opened the front door and lit a lamp with the tinder box he found on the mantel. He made his way to a bedroom, stripped off his clothing, and fell into the feathery softness of his bed. His eyes were nearly shut by the time his head settled on the pillow, and as Nathan drifted into slumber, he thought life as an itinerant pastor was far easier than he’d ever dreamed it could be.

  Chapter 4

  Birdsong awoke Abigail the next morning. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. A feeling of euphoria filled her for no apparent reason. Why did she feel so…expectant? As though something wonderful was about to happen. Was it the birds outside her window? Although her mother had often told her night air was bad for her constitution, Abigail often raised her window after everyone else had retired. She breathed deeply of the early morning air that was cool with a bare hint of the warmth that would come later.

  She did love springtime. She enjoyed watching the bees buzz from one bloom to another before using their tiny wings to lift their cumbersome, fuzzy bodies into the air. As a young girl, she had often followed the bees across the plantation grounds and into the woods, amazed to watch them enter a hive and deposit their load of nectar before heading out once more on their never-ending search.

  Rolling over to prop herself on her elbows, Abigail breathed a prayer of appreciation for the natural beauty God had created. The large oak tree outside her window seemed to have leafed out overnight. It never ceased to amaze her how everything seemed to turn green at once. Movement drew her attention, and she watched a pair of gray squirrels chase each other around the upper trunk of the tree. They disappeared after a moment or two, and her gaze traveled farther across the lawn to the roof of the guest cottage.

  Brother Pierce…Nathan. Her breath caught. Her heart skipped a beat. She was supposed to take him to town this morning and show him the sights. She jumped out of bed with a renewed sense of energy. Not that she was looking forward to seeing him. She was excited to be able to share the town she loved with someone new, someone who didn’t yet know all the nooks and crannies of her home.

  As she dressed in her riding habit, this time waiting for Jemma’s help to get her buttons properly fastened, Abigail wondered where they should start. Should she introduce him to the waterfront missionaries? As a minister, she felt sure he would want to be involved with those who offered food, blankets, and the Word of God to the immigrants and dockworkers. Or maybe she should take him by the church where he would soon be preaching.

  Walking into the dining room, she found her mother still breaking her fast. “Has Papa already gone outside?”

  Her mother put down her cup and nodded. “You just missed him.”

  Abigail bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I admit I spent some time admiring nature from my bedroom window instead of getting dressed and coming downstairs right away.”

  “You look very nice this morning.” Mama picked up a piece of toast and lavished it with blackberry jelly as Abigail moved to her chair. “But why are you wearing your riding habit? I thought you would take the pastor to town in the buggy so you could tell him all about Natchez during the ride.”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather gallop across the fields on a day like today. It’s too pretty to be confined to the roadways.”

  “And that’s why you are still single, my dear.” Her mother handed Abigail a plate of scrambled eggs. “You cannot engage a gentleman’s attention unless you are close enough to converse with him. Besides, I get the feeling our new pastor is quite refined. He reminds me of the young men I used to know in New Orleans. He would probably rather not be on horseback since he is going to have such a beautiful companion.”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “Only you would call me beautiful, Mama. Some might have considered me attractive when I was younger, but I am far too old for any man to be interested in courting me.”

  “I’ll admit you’re not a simpering debutante, but you have many admirable qualities.” Mama frowned at her. “And at twenty-three years of age, I don’t think you are quite at your last prayers.”

  “I will be twenty-four next month, and then next year I will be a quarter of a century old.” Abigail unfolded the linen napkin next to her plate and placed it in her lap. “Far too old for marriage and children. Not that I am complaining. I am very content with my work at the orphanage in town. God has given me so many opportunities to care for those in need. He knows I do not need a man to be happy with my life.”

  The words came easily to Abigail. She had said them many times before. And they were true. She leaned on the Lord’s strength and had no desire to submit to the will of a husband.

  The frown on her mother’s face deepened. “Sometimes I think your father and I raised you wrong. We wan
ted to make sure you had the freedom to wait for the right man to marry, but we may have made you too independent.” She reached across the table.

  Abigail put down her fork and placed her hand in her mother’s. “How can you say such things, Mama? Are you so unhappy with my living here?”

  “Not at all.” Her mother’s grip tightened around Abigail’s hand. “But I want you to experience the joys of marriage and motherhood.”

  Surprised to see a sheen of tears in her mother’s eyes, Abigail pulled her hand away and stood up. She rushed to the other side of the table and put her arms around her mother’s shoulders. “Do not worry so, Mama. I love you very much, and I’m grateful for the upbringing you and Papa gave me. Perhaps one of these days God will send a special man I can marry, but isn’t it better to wait on His provision than to rush into marriage with the wrong spouse?”

  “Of course you are right.” Her mother put her arms around Abigail’s waist and squeezed her tightly. “I want you to have as fulfilling a marriage as your father and I have.”

  “I don’t know how I could be any happier than I am living here with you and Papa.” Abigail stood next to her mother for several minutes before moving back to her side of the table. “But if the right man comes along, don’t worry. I’ll snap him up faster than a hungry alligator could.”

  Mama’s face relaxed as she laughed at Abigail’s words. “I do believe you would.”

  They went on to talk about plans for the day. Soon her mother excused herself and left Abigail to finish her breakfast. She considered her mother’s suggestion to take a carriage to town but rejected it. The day was far too glorious. Besides, she wasn’t interested in making a match with the new pastor.

  Would there ever be a man she would feel comfortable enough with to marry? Abigail didn’t know, but she did know one thing—Pastor Nathan Pierce might be attractive, but he was not the man for her. She would never marry an itinerant pastor. The thought of being separated from her home and family was too unbearable.