Graham looked away, breaking the moment, and glanced at the mantle clock. “And as much as I would love to stay and visit, we need to get my father home.”
They all stood, and Maria touched his arm. “Couldn’t you stay tonight? You could all get a good night’s sleep, go to church with us and leave in the afternoon.”
“You’re kind to ask, but we need to get the doctor for Father. Besides, he might come to himself in his own home. Ellie needs to check on her uncle too.”
All true, but Ellie also needed to get home and put distance between herself and that look in Graham’s eyes. And so she could make sure Leonard Fitzwald kept his distance from everything that still belonged to her and her uncle.
Chapter Ten
This was not the homecoming Graham had envisioned for his father.
The rain having let up an hour earlier, he stopped the carriage in front of his home that evening and bounded out. Part of him wished to drive on, keeping the truth from Noreen. After the shock of Francine’s death and the responsibility of raising Betsy, he dreaded seeing what this latest tragedy would do to his stepmother.
Noreen stepped onto the gallery, Betsy in her arms. Dear Noreen, always the Southern lady. She would die before she’d call out to someone in the street, even to find out if Graham had found her long-missing husband.
He opened Ellie’s door and helped her out, then grabbed the end of Sugar’s leash and let her scramble down the carriage steps, white tail wagging. He turned the dog over to its pretty owner as Father climbed down to the street.
Ellie moved in close to Graham. “Maybe it would be best if I take the carriage home and leave you two alone with Miss Noreen,” she whispered. “Some people just want family at a time like this.”
“If we’re courting, then you’re almost family. Better come ahead in.”
Her smile and brightened eyes made Graham question his decision. But it was the first time she’d asked his opinion about anything, so he’d hate to tell her he’d changed his mind. Besides, Father seemed to take to her and her dog, so she might be a help, for a change.
But that thought was unfair. She’d been quite helpful today. He wouldn’t have looked for his father in the cemetery without her suggestion.
When they reached the gallery, Ellie slid the leash’s looped end over her wrist and took the baby from Noreen.
“James, you’re home.” In her own refined way, Noreen dropped a demure kiss on her husband’s cheek, but tears ran down her face. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone—”
“Do you know where my Daisy is?” Father pulled back from her and gave her that empty stare that chilled Graham to his bones. Then he peered into Betsy’s small face. “This isn’t Daisy.”
Noreen covered her mouth with her hand. Her wide-eyed gaze shot to Graham, full of questions he had no answers for.
“I need to go for the doctor,” Graham said. “Father doesn’t recognize me or Ellie, and when we stopped at Ambrose and Maria’s on the way home, he didn’t know them either.”
“I’ll get Doctor Pritchert.” Ellie gave the baby back to Noreen. “Mister Talbot will need something hot to eat. He had some grits at the Coopers’ house, but he didn’t eat much.”
“Ellie, dear, you shouldn’t drive about the city at this hour.” Noreen’s voice carried into the hall.
“Nonsense, Miss Noreen...”
Excusing himself from the conversation, and the decision he could tell he wouldn’t be a part of, Graham guided his father into the house. Headstrong Ellie would win this confrontation and, truth be told, Graham was glad. Ellie was right; things had changed since the war started. He needed her tonight, and he didn’t mind admitting it.
Noreen came inside, holding the baby and leading the dog. “Perhaps you two could rest in the parlor while I get some leftover ham for James. Will you mind the baby and the dog for me?”
Graham unhooked the leash and took Betsy from his stepmother’s arms. They’d not addressed the fact that Father didn’t recognize Noreen, and although it would be painful to talk about it, it somehow seemed worse not to. “I’m disappointed that the only person he remembers is my deceased sister. I was hoping he’d know you.”
“This is harder than if he’d never come home at all.” Noreen let a tear roll down her face, then turned and started toward the dining room and, presumably, the kitchen. “Sugar, you take care of Betsy. And James too.”
Now, that was ridiculous. What could a dog do? Ellie must have put Noreen up to that. Although it would be nice if it worked. They could use the help.
In the parlor, Graham set Betsy on the blanket Noreen always used as a sort of rug for her. Then he seated his father on the gold settee beside the baby. Sugar ambled over and sniffed her. The dog lay down in front of her and licked her bare toes.
Betsy laughed and grabbed the dog’s ear. Again.
Graham sat beside his father to watch the two on the floor. It felt awkward, sitting with Father and yet seemingly not relating to him in any meaningful way. As minutes ticked by, the silence grew more uncomfortable, and finally Graham said the first thing that came to his mind. “We have a good dog, Father.”
Graham’s father petted Sugar’s head. “You’re a good dog.”
Those were the first sensible words Graham had heard him say. He shook his head. Ellie and that dog of hers.
Soon they heard a carriage pull up. The tinkling of those little bells told him it was Ellie and, he hoped, the doctor.
The front door opened, and Ellie’s dainty footsteps, along with a heavier set, sounded in the hall as she called out to Graham.
She felt comfortable enough in his home to let herself in and bring the doctor with her. The fact warmed his heart in a way it hadn’t when she’d let herself in after Aunt Ophelia’s party. When they reached the parlor, he took her hand and started toward the door. “Let’s sit in the library while the doctor examines Father. I’ll meet you there in a moment.”
“I’ll take Betsy along.” She crossed the room and picked up the baby. “Come, Sugar.”
As the dog got up, Father followed her with his gaze. “You’re a good dog.”
Graham hastened to Doctor Pritchert’s side as Ellie left the room. “I assume Ellie described his affliction to you. That’s the second time he’s spoken to the dog. It’s the only thing he’s said today that made sense,” he whispered.
“Well then,” Doctor Pritchert said in his drawn-out voice, “you’d better let the dog stay with him.”
What kind of nonsense was that? “Surely having a dog in the room won’t make a difference.”
“This is a disease of the mind. I’ll be honest with you—I could tell what was wrong as soon as I entered the room. Actually, as soon as Ellie told me about him. I’ve seen case after case like this since the soldiers started coming home.”
“Anyone can see his mind is affected. But what caused it?”
“Some traumatic event of the war must have done it. Many doctors think that seeing the horrors of battle affects the nerves in the body. The mind no longer knows what to do, even in ordinary circumstances.”
Could it be that simple? If so, there should logically be a simple cure. “What can we do about it?”
“Every case is different. Some patients respond to rest, wholesome food and, eventually, some form of meaningful work. If a particular activity or person—or even a dog—seems to make him think and speak normally, it’s usually good to encourage it.”
As Doctor Pritchert sat next to Father and began talking with him, Graham left them to their privacy and started toward the library. Rest, food, work—Graham could understand how those could help. But a dog? Perhaps he should find a different doctor. This one had ideas as crazy as Ellie’s. At least Ellie’s ideas were more fun.
The thought shocked him as muc
h as any of Ellie’s schemes ever had. Was it true? Did he think Ellie was fun?
Of course he did. He always had. That was one of the things that had drawn him to her all those years ago. That, and those beautiful blue eyes, the ones that always saw him for who he was inside rather than who he tried to be.
Since he’d been home, he merely hadn’t wanted to admit it. And he still didn’t. But now it was getting harder to ignore.
The library, where he assumed he’d find Ellie, was empty. She also wasn’t on the front gallery or in the kitchen dependency, where Noreen fixed a tray for Father.
Then Graham realized where she’d be—the backyard garden, her favorite spot. Arriving there, he found her seated under the crape myrtles, the baby in her lap. He crossed the yard and joined her on the grass, the dew beginning to fall and freshen the lawn.
He sat with her for a moment, not sure how to say what he felt. But it had to be said. “Ellie, I want to thank you. You’re the one who found Father, but you did more than that. Without you there to help and encourage me, it would have been a much more difficult day—and evening.” He took her hand and squeezed it for a moment—just a friendly squeeze.
“I didn’t annoy you?” Her teasing tone comforted him somehow, tempered his seriousness.
He couldn’t help the smile that came from his heart. “I’m getting kind of used to it.”
* * *
Ellie, sweetheart...
That night, Graham’s words during their encounter with Leonard floated back into Ellie’s mind as softly as her white bed canopy fluttered in the breeze. She kicked off her sheet and gazed out the window at Graham’s house bathed in moonlight. When he’d spoken those words, she’d been so distressed that they simply must not have registered. But now she heard them as if they came from Graham’s mouth rather than her memory.
Ellie, sweetheart...
She knew he’d said that just to make Leonard and Joseph believe he was in love with her. But those words sure had a way of convincing a girl that he wasn’t pretending.
Lying here was useless, since sleep wouldn’t come to her as long as those two words kept swirling around in her mind. And as long as her stomach ached as it did. She got up and donned her dressing gown, then made for the stairs and the dining room.
There, she lifted one of Mother’s blue Baccarat glasses from the sideboard, left at Magnolia Grove when her parents moved from that house to New Orleans before Ellie was born. Or so the family story went. She measured a teaspoon of sugar as if it were the most potent of medicines, then sprinkled it in the glass. She filled the glass with fresh water Lilah May kept in the matching pitcher for her, in case Ellie needed it in the night.
She stirred the water with a long-handled silver spoon. Then she sat at the mahogany table and took a long drink of the sweet water, her stomach settling a bit.
Yesterday, Graham had said he wanted to intensify the courtship. What he didn’t know was how his eyes had turned a stormy green when he said it. Was it wise to make their courtship look even more serious? Was there a chance he’d fall in love with her again?
Or that she would fall in love with him?
Nonsense. Their supposed courtship was a business arrangement—two old friends helping each other. It held no danger for either of them. Besides, he was right in saying they needed to make the courtship more authentic. She took another sip of her sweet water. It had to be past midnight. She closed her eyes.
Dear God, it’s true, isn’t it? We’re in no danger?
* * *
The next morning, Graham knelt beside his bed, still in the nightshirt he’d borrowed from his father. Since he’d returned to Natchez, each day had brought new crises. First the girls scouting him like Yankees, then Ellie and her crazy courtship plan, then baby Betsy’s appearance, then Leonard Fitzwald, now Father...
It would take a bigger man than Graham to deal with all this plus find a way to support them all. He needed work, needed an income, especially since Father would be no help anytime soon, if ever.
Holding his head in his hands, Graham forced his fear from his mind—fear that his prayer would again bounce off the ceiling as it had yesterday. By faith he began his prayer.
God, the only work I know how to do is soldiering. I probably could have succeeded as a planter, but I have no ground. I need Your help. What should I—
The crash of a metal object against his windowpane brought his head up. The sound was strangely familiar, one from long ago. He rose from the floor and hastened to the window.
It couldn’t be.
Tied to a piece of twine strung twenty feet above the lawn, between his window and Ellie’s, was the barrel of the old, broken fountain pen he’d scavenged from the trash heap twelve years prior. He looked up to the top sash. The twine was threaded around the small wooden pulley he’d nailed to the sash back then, identical to the one above Ellie’s window. Graham reached through the open bottom half of the window and grabbed the barrel.
Their old secret-message vessel.
Although his fingers were bigger and clumsier than they’d been in his childhood, he managed to extract the slip of paper folded up inside the cylinder. Unlike in earlier years, this paper was a light plum color and smelled of sweet flowers. He unfolded it with a sense of trepidation.
Rise and shine, sleepyhead! Get up and spiff yourself up and get ready to beau me to church this morning. We need to get there in time to let everybody, especially Leonard and Susanna, see us courting. Try hard to leave your frown behind. You could be a lot of fun if you tried. And you’re invited to dinner at our house, and don’t forget the sunset picnic at the river bluff tonight.
“Sis.”
Sis. So she remembered his old nickname for her—the one he’d grown to hate when she’d laughed at his proposal and told him she was his sis, not his girl.
The old pain reared up in him again. How could she have missed the change in their relationship back then? Or had she missed it? Whatever had happened in her heart and mind years ago, it was plain to see she had no more desire for a romance with him now than ever.
And that was fine with him. He snatched a piece of writing paper from his old desk and began a note of his own.
You may be just my Sis, but you have a role to play in this too. You’d better outshine Aunt Ophelia with fluff and feathers this morning. And don’t make me wait on you to put them on.
If Ellie could keep up this charade, so could Graham. He’d figure it out somehow. She didn’t know it yet, but she was about to get the courting of her life.
He hurried through his morning routine and dressed in his uniform again. Tomorrow, as soon as the stores opened in Natchez, he had to buy some new clothes—
What was he thinking? For the first time in his life, he didn’t have the money to buy something he needed.
As he sat in his desk chair, pulling on his boots, Ellie’s giant bell rang. Looked as if Noreen had finally embraced the idea of using bells to call people in the house. Funny how quickly some people took Ellie’s ideas and ran with them. What was it about Ellie that made people want to please her?
Everybody but Graham. At least, up to now. This morning, and every day until this mess was straightened out, he’d show her that he could court with the best of them.
Her note still bothered him. Signing it “Sis.” Telling him not to frown. Hoping he’d be more fun. What made her think he would frown, wouldn’t be any fun?
Then it hit him. He’d been frowning for the past three days.
He’d hardly remembered how to smile when he came home. And yesterday, he’d laughed—hard—for the first time he could remember. He got up and went to the mirror.
What he saw looked awful. He hadn’t taken a good look at himself, other than to shave and comb his hair, for months. Maybe longer. Had he become the man Ellie thou
ght he was? Had he allowed the war to make him hard? Judging by that scowl in the mirror, probably so.
Was that why God allowed him to have Ellie and that ridiculous dog of hers in his life again? Maybe, maybe not. But whatever the reason for the changes, he needed them.
What would it be like to enjoy life again? He needed to find out. Now he wished he hadn’t sent Ellie that sarcastic note through the pen barrel.
He looked in the mirror again and tried for a smile. Pathetic. This was going to take some time.
Graham sprinted down the stairs as Noreen rang the bell again.
“Good morning, dear.” His stepmother kissed his cheek and set down the bell. “I thought you might want to help your father dress for church. Doctor Pritchert thinks he should go. I brushed and freshened his uniform last night. Breakfast in ten minutes.”
Noreen made for the kitchen as Graham started back upstairs to assist his father. Then, on impulse, he stopped. “Noreen.”
She turned to him. “Yes?”
Graham took a deep breath and smiled the best he could. “Good morning.”
He thought he saw a tear in her eye. Then she gave him the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face since Betsy had come to their house.
“Good morning, Graham.”
Half an hour later, those bells tinkled, signaling Ellie’s carriage at their door. He stepped onto the gallery and saw her sticking her head out the carriage window, waving at him and pointing at the ostrich feathers on her hat. “Fluff and feathers—just as you requested.”
She’d taken him literally? That was the gaudiest hat he’d ever seen. “You can’t wear that. It looks awful.”
“That’s no way to win a woman’s heart.”
She was right. He’d already forgotten his resolve to court her for all he was worth.
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