She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against the throbbing that was starting in her temples.
“Your father won that railroad from Robert Fitzwald in a card game.”
Ellie lifted her head. She’d been right. Leonard wanted that railroad back for spite.
“You said you wanted me to tell you the bad news all at once, so I’m going to do that now. The worst news is that Leonard Fitzwald has instructed me to tell you that, if you refuse his offer of marriage, he plans to make that knowledge public and claim that the game was rigged.”
The cooing of a mourning dove wafted through the window, and Ellie felt like crying along with it. “Let him do it. I’m going to pay that loan and get out from under his threats. Once I’m out of his debt, he can’t do anything more to me.”
“That’s not exactly true. First, the chances of paying the loan are as slim as they get.”
But he didn’t know about her secret stash of cotton.
“And if he spreads the rumors about your father, it will damage not only your reputation, but Graham’s as well. I don’t know his plans for the future, but both Ashland Place and his father’s plantation, Ammadelle, are gone. He needs a livelihood, and he needs a good reputation if he’s going to continue to live and to work in Natchez.”
It couldn’t be. “He’s going to be a cotton broker.” Her voice sounded small, even to her ears.
“Not in Natchez. Not if this happens,” he said more forcefully. “That is why I asked you to come alone. You need to evaluate your courtship with him and determine whether it will stand this test before he finds out about it.”
Joseph had no idea how unnecessary that was. But Miss Ophelia had said something to the same effect about gossip. Except that she had referenced something much more benign than this. “Leonard served a confiscation notice to Miss Ophelia.”
“I know.” Joseph scowled as she’d never seen before. “He pulled some of his late father’s strings in Washington and got a Freedmen’s Bureau appointment. There’s no limit to his malice.”
A sinking feeling came to Ellie’s middle. “What should I do, Joseph?”
“Find a way to pay that loan, although I don’t know anybody in Natchez with the money to help you out, other than Fitzwald. I’d pay it for you myself if I could. Then marry Graham as fast as you can arrange it.”
“Joseph, no...”
“Don’t argue. You know how Natchez is. Rumors such as this carry twice the weight if their subject is unmarried. Four times the weight if both parties are unmarried. A quick wedding and the protection of Graham’s name are your best defenses.”
Marry Graham. No, she was going to deal with this on her own. Her father may have been a gambler, and her mother may have had to beg for their food, but Ellie was going to take care of herself and prosper in the process.
“I’ll be back here in two weeks, Joseph.” She stood, and her attorney followed suit. By no means would she let Graham or anybody know that her father was a gambler and a cheat. She’d close Leonard’s mouth by giving him the money. If she could, she’d give him the railroad too. “The next time I come into this office, I am going to hand you thirty thousand dollars to give to Leonard Fitzwald, and then I’m going to Magnolia Grove to throw the biggest party Natchez has seen, before or since the war.”
“As your mother used to say, you can do anything you set your mind to,” he said in his fatherly tone. “I advise you to go home and plan what you’re going to wear.”
* * *
That had to have been the longest hour of Graham’s life.
As the landau pulled up to the carriage house, Graham sprinted out the door toward it. Honoring both Joseph’s and Ellie’s wishes and staying home this morning had been almost more than he could take. Now he couldn’t wait another minute to find out what the attorney said and why Graham wasn’t welcome for the saying of it. Whatever it was, he had to know now, so they could plan their next step.
Ellie bounded out of the landau the moment it stopped moving. She caught sight of him and waved. “Come into the parlor. I’ll change clothes and meet you there. We need to get to Magnolia Grove and see how many new workers we have.”
“Aunt Ophelia will be along in a moment. If we need to discuss your meeting with Joseph in private, this is our only chance.”
A cloud passed over her eyes, and she nodded. “Most of our business will be the mundane, but we can’t say anything in front of her that we wouldn’t say in front of the entire town—the county.”
They hastened to the house and the parlor. “I do own the railroad, but my uncle has it in trust.” Twisting her mother’s pearl ring, she whispered so Uncle Amos wouldn’t hear. “Leonard is determined to have my land and the railroad, and he’ll do everything he can to get them. I have to ship the first load of cotton as soon as I can. When will you start working on selling it?”
“I’ll go uptown and send some wires as soon as you give me the buyers’ names and addresses.”
She started for the stairs. “We’ll do it this afternoon when we get back from Magnolia Grove, so we can be home in the heat of the day.”
“I’ll go outside and help Aunt Ophelia into the carriage when she gets here.”
“You can put Sugar in too.”
A half hour later, Graham stopped the carriage in front of the big house and took in the sight of about two hundred men, women and children on the lawn. “I knew you’d get a lot of workers, but I never dreamed of this.”
Ellie bounded out of the carriage, again without Graham’s help, and reached back in for the giant ledger she’d brought from home. As soon as he had the back door open for Aunt Ophelia, Sugar jumped out and took off after her mistress.
“Come up to the house, everyone, and we’ll take care of business.” Ellie and Sugar hastened to the house, the curving arch of the centuries-old oak framing its front gallery.
Graham stayed behind to help his aunt across the uneven lawn and toward the cistern house. There she said she intended to draw some cool water to serve the children in the gathering while Ellie worked. Within minutes, the crowd formed a line out the front door and across the yard.
Inside the great hall, Ellie sat at her small rococo entry table with her book and pen, Sugar lying at her feet. Ellie took down each name, explained the terms, and shook each hand.
Amazing. It wasn’t enough people to pick twenty-five hundred acres of cotton, but it would help. Because of Ellie’s crazy plan.
He greeted each potential worker and introduced himself as the planter’s broker and fiancé. He had to admit, it sounded good, even though it was a ruse. And even though, as a child, he’d dreamed of being the planter. Certainly never the planter’s intended.
He stopped that thought cold. The dream of planting died years ago, and he had refused to let himself think about it. Too bad it had to pop up now.
By noon, Ellie had the workers catalogued and was closing her book when one more man strode through the door. His gait was the familiar limp of a man with an artificial leg, and he steadied himself with a sturdy cane. He removed his well-brushed hat and smoothed down his strawberry-blond hair. “Miss Anderson, thank you for helping my family last night. Have you need of an overseer?”
“What a pleasant surprise.” She offered her hand, and he took it like a gentleman. “Colonel Graham Talbot, this is Mister Myron Sutton, Lydia’s husband.”
Graham shook his hand, noting a strong grip. That was a good sign. He pulled up two chairs from the row against the wall. “Please be seated. You don’t seem like the kind of man to work outdoors.”
“No, sir, but war changes things. I was the manager of Rosemount Plantation before the war. The owner lived near Beaufort, South Carolina, and inherited the property. I was in charge of everything—supervised the planting and harvesting, bookkeeping, upkeep, the help—e
very aspect of running a cotton plantation.” Myron took his seat next to Graham, across the table from Ellie. “I understand you manage your own land, ma’am. But I have a wife and child to support. I know the job of the overseer, and I’m not too good to do the work.”
“I already have a competent overseer.” Ellie tapped her pen on the table for a moment, her gaze far-off.
Mister Sutton’s jaw clenched like steel. “In that case, I’m not too good to pick cotton.”
“Let me think a moment...”
As usual, Graham could tell when her idea came to her. Her eyes brightened as always, and he braced himself for the plan.
She bounded to her feet. “Mister Sutton, would you excuse Colonel Talbot and me for a minute?”
Mister Sutton hastened to rise as well, clearly surprised by Ellie’s sudden movement. Graham, on the other hand, was used to it, and got up more slowly.
In her uncle’s library, Ellie closed the door and pulled Graham to the other side of the room. “We would be fools to let a man with his knowledge and experience pick cotton.”
It was coming. He simply had to wait and let her get to her point.
“Last night, I had another idea. Until you get more clients, you’ll have a lot of time on your hands.”
“True.”
“So let’s plant some ground for you to manage and for Mister Sutton to oversee.”
He struggled and failed to keep up with her. “All of your ground is planted in cotton.”
“Not my ground. Yours.”
Had the strain been too much for her? “Ellie. I have no ground.”
“Yes, you do. I realized it last night. I know your father’s plantation has been sold, but Ashland Place, your ground, has not. It’s lying fallow, overrun with weeds.” Her words came out faster, her eyes shining like the gold she seemed to think he was going to earn from ground he didn’t have. “You don’t understand—I can see it in your face. Think about it. That ground might sit there for a hundred years before anybody buys it. Thousands of acres all around Natchez are lying fallow because they’ve been confiscated but not sold. What’s to keep you from farming it anyway?”
That did make a little sense, but not enough. “The cotton season’s over. We could think about it next year—”
“Plant peas.”
He blinked. Opened his mouth to speak, but he had no words.
Graham closed his mouth and gazed out the window at the men and women still milling around the lawn. Two hundred cotton pickers and a manager—or overseer, or whatever Sutton was. Twenty workers already here before this day. Mouths to feed at both their homes—and she wanted him to plant peas.
He turned to face her. “Honey, I think the pressure has gotten to you. Let’s go on home and—”
“I am not losing my mind. I’ve thought this through, but I didn’t know how to go about it until now.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the desk. There she snatched a book and opened it to a page she had marked with a slip of her plum-colored note paper. “Look at this. I’ve been reading about increasing cotton production. Some agriculture experts think we need to plant a different crop after the cotton harvest and then work those plants back into the soil. It’s supposed to put nutrients back into the ground.”
She hadn’t come up with that on her own? He pulled the book closer and read the lines she indicated. Sure enough, peas were supposed to help the soil. And they would grow in the late summer and early fall, after the cotton was harvested.
He closed the book. “That’s fine for next year, but we don’t have the money to plant peas and then till them under at season’s end.”
“Of course not. We’ll harvest the peas and sell them. That’s what I’m going to do, and we’ll plant them on your thousand acres at Ashland too. We’ll hire Mister Sutton to be overseer out there. Until we plant, he can supervise the movement of cotton from the barns to the river.” A smile of confidence and buoyancy broke out over her face. “You’ll get a good fee for selling the cotton. Use some of it to buy pea seed. Then Mister Sutton can move to Ashland and oversee the field preparation and planting.”
“I’d have to sell the peas—mine and yours. Who’s going to buy thirty-five hundred acres’ worth of peas?”
“You’re the broker. Figure it out.”
Well, if he could sell cotton, he could probably learn how to sell peas too. And it would mean Ashland would be—could be—a working plantation again. Of course, there was always the chance that someone would buy it, even right before the pea harvest.
But until and unless that happened, he would be a planter. Within a matter of days. Could he do it? “I don’t know. This is moving too fast for me.”
“Graham, these are times of change. Nothing will ever again be like before. We have to change too. And sometimes we have to move faster than we want to,” she persisted, not knowing she’d dangled his dream before him.
He’d left that dream behind once, along with Ellie. Two dreams busted in one day was more than he could handle. And he’d run away. Like a coward. Like Leonard Fitzwald had on the battlefield.
Maybe he should have stayed and tried to find out why she’d refused him.
Maybe he should find out why she still refused him now.
That thought hit him hard in the chest.
He hadn’t wanted to know before, hadn’t wanted to endure the added pain of hearing what she despised about him. And that proved all the more that he was a coward.
But maybe it wasn’t him. Perhaps something else was happening to her, something so painful that she couldn’t tell him about it. She hadn’t married in all the years he’d been gone. Why was that? And why had it never occurred to him to find out?
If he hadn’t run off like a scared boy, he might have been able to help her, as a gentleman should. And if he didn’t now, he wasn’t a gentleman.
This idea of planting peas might be the most foolish thing he could do, but it was time to reclaim his dream of planting. And if he could do that, perhaps he could also claim his other, more important dream: Ellie’s heart.
It was time to take the first step.
“Hire Mister Sutton. We are branching out into the pea business.”
Chapter Fifteen
Graham never dreamed he’d share his library with a dog and a baby. Those two created a homey setting that completely took his focus off his work that afternoon, but having them there softened a bit of the hardness that had become a part of him these past years.
In a way, he needed that diversion while he used his father’s library as his own for the first time. Father should be the one to work here, not Graham. But it seemed foolish to rearrange another room to accommodate him when there was every chance that Father would never work here again. As it was, his father sat alone in the myrtle garden, next to the statue of Rachel at the well. When Graham had tried to engage him in conversation that afternoon, the older man had simply muttered something about Daisy and the good dog. If only he were able to come out of this melancholy or whatever it was. Graham could sure use his help.
Betsy crawled off her blanket and chased Sugar on all fours. Her laughter brought a sort of pleasant ache to his chest. God, thank You for letting me be the one to shelter this little girl. Please help me not to fail her. Giving her a happy life would be worth any sacrifice he had to make.
The baby crawled toward Sugar and then sat down. The dog turned and raced to her, licked her toes and ran around the chair. Amidst Betsy’s howl of laughter, Sugar skidded to a stop in front of her and licked the baby’s toes again.
It looked as if the game wasn’t going to end soon. Pleasant as this was, he would never get his work done at this rate. And he had to get these telegrams written so he could send them to the cotton buyers today.
Now Sugar joined in the noisemaking with a sha
rp bark each time she circled the chair. Maybe Ellie’s idea of leaving the dog here to entertain the baby wasn’t such a good one.
Graham glanced at the walnut mantle clock. Noreen and Aunt Ophelia wouldn’t return from the Sutton home for another half hour. He should have known they would head over there, carrying a ham from Noreen’s smokehouse and new potatoes from the garden. But he needed them here now.
He did have one other source of help...
Graham picked up the baby, who screamed her protest against having her game interrupted. Then he carried her upstairs and set her down on the floor of his room. He glanced at the pen barrel outside the window. No time to write a note. Instead, he hung his old white handkerchief, the same one he’d used the day he arrived home, on the wire “flagpole” outside his window.
If anyone at Ellie’s house looked outside, he’d have help within minutes.
Just as he had Betsy downstairs and settled on her blanket again, the back door opened.
“Graham?” Ellie called. “I saw your signal.”
“I’m in the library, held captive by a cute baby and a renegade dog.” He could hear her tinkling laughter and her light footsteps as she crossed the center hall. He pictured every step she took. She’d been here so much, she was part of this home. It was incomplete without her.
The thought both warmed and terrified him. His pardon hadn’t come, and he hadn’t yet earned a dime for his family. He had to keep that in mind and not let his thoughts wander too far where Ellie was concerned.
When she stepped into the office, her honey-colored hair shining in the sun that streamed through the window, she took his breath. She’d changed from her businesslike black dress to a soft gray homey one with narrower hoops and a pretty band of lace at the hem. And when she picked up Betsy and snuggled with her, his heart nearly stopped.
“Is this sweet baby keeping you from your work?”
That baby was no longer his biggest distraction. “I’m trying to get my telegraphs written, but these two are making a commotion. A pleasant commotion, but a commotion nonetheless.”
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