Nathan felt he had entered a foreign country. Never in his life had he heard so many dialects being spoken. It reminded him of the story in Genesis. Was this what Babel had sounded like when God confounded the speech of the tower builders?
“And this is our new pastor, Nathan Pierce.” Miss LeGrand glanced in his direction after introducing him to the ladies working in the soup line.
What was he supposed to say to them? He let his glance move from one expectant face to another. Black and white, young and old, they were waiting to hear what he had to say. “I commend you for your work here.”
Smiles answered his first statement. Buoyed by their approval, Nathan breathed more easily. “In the Good Book, the Lamb of God gave us instructions to clothe and feed those in need. You are following His guidance, and I know He is smiling down on all of you. When the time of winnowing comes, you can be confident you will receive His thanks and the richest rewards of heaven.”
Miss LeGrand touched his elbow. “We should let them get back to work.”
“Yes, of course.” He glanced down at her face and wondered if she approved of his words to the ladies. Then he wondered why he cared. He followed her through the rows of cots on which the immigrants sat or lay and watched as she greeted them with warmth and concern. She must come often judging by the way these people responded to her questions about their health and families.
Nathan was impressed by the waterfront facility. He hadn’t known what to expect, but after walking through the mean streets of Natchez Under-the-Hill, he had been pleasantly surprised by the large building that was used as dining room by day and dormitory at night. Several windows in the square room allowed natural sunlight in and provided a commanding view of the busy waterfront outside. In a far corner of the room, he could see a man talking to a group of young people. “Who is that?”
Abigail looked in that direction. “That is my uncle John. His wife is my grandmother’s sister. They are the ones who started the mission.” She walked toward the older gentleman as she explained.
Uncle John stood up and hugged her before turning his gaze on Nathan. “Are you our new preacher?” He held out his right hand.
“Nathan Pierce, at your service, sir.” Nathan immediately liked the man whose hand he was shaking. Tall, with a head full of snowy white hair, he was the type of man one knew immediately could be counted on.
“John Bass.” The older man’s blue eyes twinkled. “My wife and I are eager to hear your sermons, Pastor.”
“I pray they will meet your expectations, sir.”
Mr. Bass nodded. “I’m sure they will. What brings the two of you down to the waterfront today?”
“Papa wanted me to show the pastor around town,” said Abigail. “But we need to get going, Uncle John. We have several other stops to make.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bass.”
“I’m sure we’ll see each other often, Pastor. We welcome your guidance as we try to do our Christian duty.”
As they left the mission, Nathan wondered if he would be able to offer the guidance Abigail’s uncle spoke of. Suddenly he felt unworthy of the position he’d been given. He didn’t know enough to lead others. What had he been thinking? Panic seized his throat, and fear nearly brought him to his knees. He stumbled a bit before catching himself.
You have no other choice. Not if you want to wash away your sins. Not if you want to earn God’s forgiveness. And what other option is there? Do you want to burn in hell for your misdeeds? Of course not. So you will go forward.
He felt slightly better after giving himself the mental lecture. He was a grown man, and he had studied under one of the best itinerant pastors. He was ready. He had to be ready. Taking a deep breath and shading his eyes from the bright sunlight, he followed Abigail back through the warren of streets.
A man lay facedown in the middle of the road ahead of them, and Nathan reached out a hand to capture Abigail’s elbow. He might not be certain of his ability to shepherd others, but he did know how to handle this situation. “Please stand behind me while I check on him.”
He could see the surprise in her glance, but she did not pull away from him. “You should not bother the man. He’s probably sleeping off a night of excessive alcohol consumption.”
Nathan ignored her advice as he bent over the unconscious man. A snore from the prostrate form proved Abigail’s advice was sound. He flipped the man over with careful hands. “I don’t want someone to run over him.”
“Not likely. Not here. There’s probably a drunk asleep on nearly every corner of Natchez Under-the-Hill. The saloons fill them with cheap alcohol before robbing them of their money and kicking them out to make room for the next target.”
He dragged the man out of the street and into the shade of the livery stable. “Maybe he’ll be safe here until he wakes.” He reached inside his pants pocket and withdrew the pouch that held his money. It was much slenderer than when he’d started his journey, but he still had enough to help this poor fellow. He withdrew a couple of coins and stuck them inside the pocket of the man’s waistcoat. “Maybe you can afford better accommodations with this.”
When he straightened it was to find her looking at him with a quizzical expression in her intelligent dark eyes. Nathan wondered if he had broken some local taboo. But hadn’t she brought him down here to show him the mission work being done on the riverfront? Or did her sympathy only lie with those who sought shelter in the facility behind them?
“I admire your kindness, Pastor. Your instincts may need some work, but the desire to help others is the first mark of a worthy minister.” She waited until he reached her side before moving on.
All morning she had been leading the way, but now she allowed him to tuck her hand under his elbow. Nathan felt taller as she looked up at him. Had he finally won her approval? Ever since meeting Miss Abigail LeGrand, he had felt he was being carefully measured and tested. Her current approving attitude was a distinct change and one he welcomed. He would need all the support he could muster to succeed. “What all do your aunt and uncle do at the mission?”
She nodded to the riverbank where a hodgepodge of boats, from multi-storied steamboats to flat-bottom keelboats and narrow dugout canoes, vied for space. “Those boats bring immigrants streaming into the area. People who have nothing but the clothes they are wearing. They get here so hungry and frightened, so unsure of what the future holds. All we do is offer them a hot meal, a couple of blankets, and a safe place to spend the night.”
“That sounds like a lot to me.” Nathan compared this waterfront to his home in Tennessee. The people who had been traveling on those boats generally had possessions. Except for the Indians who had been removed from their homelands. “We had a similar group back in Chattanooga. They gave food and blankets to the Indians who were being moved out West.”
He saw Abigail’s shoulders rise and heard her sigh. “What a sad time for them.”
“Yes, but I find myself agreeing with the actual relocation.”
She pulled away from him. “How can you say such a thing?” Now he sighed. “I don’t know what it’s been like for the Indians and the white people in this part of the country, but where I’m from, there has always been a great deal of friction. Friction that caused pain and death on both sides. There was simply not enough room for both peoples to coexist. I cannot say I agree with the forced march that killed so many of the Indians—”
“How progressive of you.”
He ignored her interruption. Miss LeGrand was very outspoken, but she seemed to be very intelligent. Perhaps if he explained the real situation she would understand. “But I do think President Jackson was right giving them their own land west of the river.”
Abigail faced him, her fists resting on her hips. “And I suppose you also think it is a good idea to enslave Africans and force them to work their whole lives to provide luxuries for planters.”
“Of course not.”
“That’s a relief.”
/> Nathan ran a finger between his collar and his throat. “No one could condone tearing innocent people from their homes and families and bringing them across the world to work for uncaring landowners.”
“Do I hear a hesitation in your voice?”
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Once they have been brought here, without money or training, how can they be expected to stand on their own feet and make a living for themselves? They need kind, considerate landowners to provide for them.” He could see her eyebrows drawing together. “In exchange, they provide the labor the landowners need to produce crops. As long as they aren’t abused, I don’t see anything particularly wrong with the system.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped open. Her eyes had grown as large as saucers. “You don’t see anything wrong with one human being owning another?”
He shook his head. “I take it you disagree with my opinion.”
“Brother Pierce, that is a gross understatement.” She marched off in a huff, leaving him standing alone on the sidewalk.
Passersby looked at him curiously, but no one stopped. Nathan wondered whether he should catch up with her and apologize for expressing his honest opinion. But she had asked, after all. He took a deep breath and followed her. If she could not abide an opposing viewpoint, perhaps she was not as intelligent as she first appeared.
Chapter 5
Abigail could not wait to tell her mama their new pastor’s position on slavery. How could he even call himself a pastor? How could he read the Bible, see the love that Jesus held for His fellow men, and look favorably on the enslavement of human beings? So deep was her disgust that she marched all the way up the hill to Natchez On-the-Hill without slowing.
When she reached the hitching post where they’d tethered their horses, she finally thought to look back to see if he had followed her. She was almost disappointed to see his tall figure marching toward her, his blond hair blown by a fresh breeze from the river’s currents. She would have liked to abandon him here, but she supposed she would have to wait.
“Abigail!” A voice drew her attention back to the park. She recognized the Thorntons’ carriage and Charlotte’s brown curls bobbing as she waved enthusiastically. “Abigail!”
“Hi, Charlotte.” She did not have to force the smile raising her lips as the carriage drew near. “Where are Eli and Sarah?”
“I left them at the shop with my parents. Mama insisted, although I’m not sure Papa was as pleased.”
“If I know Uncle Judah, he is as happy as a new puppy. He’s probably showing little Eli all the secrets of the shipping business.”
Charlotte giggled. “You’re right. But since Mama is most likely spoiling my daughter with cookies and fresh-baked cake, it only seems fair.”
Both of them laughed. Having grown up spending nearly as much time in the Hugheses’ home as she had at Magnolia Plantation, Abigail knew her friend was right. “I may have to go and visit your mother.”
“She would love to see you. She was saying the other day that you do not come by as often as you used to.”
“I know, but my children take so much of my time.” Abigail stopped speaking as she felt a presence behind her. She turned around and looked up into the pastor’s face. The pastor’s shocked face. “I didn’t mean—”
“Who is your companion?” Charlotte’s query interrupted her explanation.
Reminded of her manners, Abigail decided to drop the matter. Let the silly man believe what he wanted. She performed the introductions and stood silently while Charlotte and the pastor spoke briefly.
“I suppose I’d better get back to my shopping.” Charlotte smiled at both of them. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you to Natchez. You are in very good hands. Abigail knows everyone.”
Brother Pierce bowed and nodded his head. “I’m sure you are right.”
Abigail wondered why she didn’t believe him. She glanced toward the carriage, surprised to see the lack of understanding in her friend’s expression. How could Charlotte miss the irony in his voice? She unhitched her horse and walked toward a nearby mounting block. She swung herself up and looked back at him. “Shall we continue?”
“Am I keeping you from other duties, Miss LeGrand?”
Her cheeks burned. She lifted her chin. “My children? Not at all. I’m about to take you to meet them.”
He swung onto his horse and turned its head toward her mount. “I really don’t—”
She touched her heels to the horse’s flanks and cantered off. Judgmental boor. How dare he take that condescending tone with her?
She fumed as they traveled through the bustling streets of town. Several people hailed her, but she waved at them without slowing down. She was much too irritated to make polite conversation. Besides, she could hardly wait to see what the arrogant pastor would think when he saw her children. Stopping in front of a two-story home that was separated from the traffic by a whitewashed fence, she dismounted and tied her horse to a ring in one of a pair of cast-iron hitching posts shaped like the heads of eagles.
“Miss Abigail.” A chorus of voices greeted her entrance into the yard. In only a few seconds, she was surrounded by a group of eager children.
She laughed at them and pulled pieces of hard candy from her reticule. She never came here without treats for them. Her ire melted away as she watched their faces. These children were so thrilled by small things.
“So these are your children?” His voice was not as cold as it had been when they left the park. “I thought—”
“You don’t have to tell me what you thought.” She frowned at him and indicated the youngsters who still encircled her. “I could hear it in your voice.”
One of the younger boys tugged on her skirt. “We have company, Miss Abigail.”
She ruffled the boy’s hair, aware that he thought himself too old for hugs or kisses. “This is Pastor Nathan Pierce, Joseph.”
“No.” He looked solemnly at the tall man beside her. “We have more company.”
She could hear a choked sound behind her. Was Brother Pierce laughing at Joseph? If he had seen the frightened little tyke when he was first delivered here by one of the boat captains he would not laugh so hard. Joseph’s parents died on the journey upriver. Abigail turned around to give the man a piece of her mind and found that he was not even paying any attention to her conversation with Joseph.
He had acquired an admirer. Mia Carpenter had wrapped her arms around one of his legs and was holding on with all her might. “Did you come to get me?”
“No.” The man looked like he thought he was about to be skinned. His cheeks had flushed, and he was trying to pry the child’s hands away from his pants. “I came with Miss Abigail.”
Abigail felt Mia’s questioning glance and nodded. “We need to go inside, dear. Let go of him.”
Although the young girl’s lower lip trembled, she complied. Satisfied, Abigail turned and led the way onto the shaded porch. A breeze lifted the corners of her hat, and she raised one hand to hold it secure while she opened the front door.
“Deborah, it’s Abigail and the new pastor,” she called out to the woman who was the matron of the orphanage as she stepped into the entry hall. The parlor was the first door to the left, but she waited for Brother Pierce to join her before entering.
His shoulders filled the doorway, and for a moment Abigail forgot her aggravation. Who would have thought a preacher could be so…handsome? The word popped into her head unbidden.
“Hello there.”
Abigail told herself the thumping of her heart was because Deborah had surprised her. It had nothing to do with the pastor. He was a man. No different from dozens she had met in the past. And no different from dozens more she would meet in the future. She shook off the thoughts and turned to her friend.
A wide smile and sparkling brown gaze belied the austerity of Deborah’s coiffure. Pulled back tightly from her face and twisted into a bun at the base of her neck, the red-gold strands had begun to dull with age. She w
as dressed in her usual uniform—a serviceable black skirt and matching waist.
“Where’s your apron?” Abigail gave her a hug.
Deborah smoothed a hand over her collar. “I took it off because we have a guest, a new benefactor I’d like you to meet.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.” Abigail’s eyebrows rose. “And I’ve brought another guest with me.”
She turned back to the tall, blond minister. “Brother Pierce, this is one of the hardest working women in Natchez, Deborah Trent. She is older sister, mother, and caretaker of all the children here. Deborah, meet Nathan Pierce, our new minister.”
They greeted each other as one of the older boys dashed into the house, waved at them, and rushed up the staircase.
Deborah turned from Brother Pierce and frowned toward the young man. “Slow down, Micah. Unless there’s a fire upstairs, you need to demonstrate more decorum for the younger children.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy slowed his headlong progress to a trot as he disappeared from sight.
With a smile and a shrug, Deborah led the way into the parlor. “Please excuse me for deserting you, Mr. Ward.”
A swarthy stranger stood as they filed into the parlor. The first thing Abigail noticed about him was the mustache he stroked with one long finger. He was well dressed and well groomed, from the careful styling of his dark hair and starched perfection of his shirt collar to the gloss on his black, square-toed boots. All the matrons in town would be pushing their marriageable daughters in his direction.
As Deborah introduced them, Abigail dropped into a reflexive curtsy. He bowed over her hand and pressed a warm kiss on it. The hairs on her arm prickled and she jerked her hand away. She was more accustomed to men kissing the air above her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Pastor.” Mr. Ward’s statement made Abigail’s jaw drop.
The two men shook hands.
“You two have already met?” Deborah asked the question uppermost in Abigail’s mind as she took her place on the horsehair sofa.
Abigail sat on the other end of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap.
Mississippi Brides Page 20