Lilah May came in then with a pitcher and glasses on a tray. But she didn’t use Ellie’s mother’s crystal this time.
As Ellie poured and the maid left the room, Graham prayed for wisdom. More than anything else, he wanted to be the man to step in and save the woman he loved. But there was a good chance that she would veto his whole plan. And it would be a lot harder to put into place without her cooperation.
God, help me to understand more than my eyes can see. He sipped his lemonade, trying to discern the best way to address the rest of the plan. “I also visited the two planters who didn’t owe Fitzwald any money, and they want to hire me as their broker. Then I called on four more planters in the Alliance, and one of them engaged my services. Another said he’d consider it.”
“Three clients and a possible fourth—that’s impressive.” Her bright eyes confirmed her growing enthusiasm.
“I then went to Barkley’s print shop and ordered handbills advertising my new brokerage, and I took out an ad in the Courier. I also ordered a sign to post at our house: Graham Talbot, Cotton Broker.” He didn’t tell her he’d sold his West Point class ring to pay for it all. His thumb brushed the bare third finger of his left hand, where he’d worn the ring for five years, even through the rigors of battle. Never having dreamed of parting with it, he nonetheless gave silent thanks for the sale.
“But the most important thing I did today was to call on Mister Sutton and your overseer. We’re going to camp out at the spots where you hid the cotton, and Moses is going to get as many workers as he can to help. We’re not letting anything happen to the rest of the crop.”
“You thought of everything.” For the first time during this conversation, Ellie’s eyes warmed with a little half smile. A smile of hope, of trust.
“And that’s not all.” Graham leaned close and brushed his fingers along her jaw, her cheek. “Today is the last day that weasel Leonard Fitzwald will control any part of our lives.”
“But what if he—”
Graham held up one hand, stopping her. “He doesn’t matter anymore. I’m going to deal with him.” He paused, moving even closer until her face was so near he could feel her light breath on his skin. “I’m the one with the plan this time, and I’ve put all of what little I have left into it.”
Her wide eyes and reddened cheeks told him he’d made his point clear. Now all he had to do was make the whole thing work. Starting tonight, guarding Ellie’s cotton.
And he would do that if it took his last breath.
* * *
God, did I do the right thing?
Just before dusk that night, Ellie sat propped up in her bed, ready for her nighttime prayers, and watched Graham’s window. He had his gaslight up high, and she could see his silhouette at the window desk where he always sat to read his Bible. He must have decided to take a moment with the Lord before heading out to Magnolia Grove. But having him within her line of vision tonight somehow made this whole day seem even worse.
Lord, I was foolish to get my hopes up after hearing Graham’s plan. Now, alone in her room, it seemed she and Graham had traded roles, with him getting a great idea that probably wasn’t going to work out. She released all her disappointment in a deep sigh. If only Uncle Amos hadn’t borrowed that money. If only Leonard hadn’t come back to town. And Graham—if only they hadn’t shared two perfect kisses...
Those two kisses would be all the romance she’d have for the rest of her life. She certainly wouldn’t have that feeling with Leonard. The peck he gave her hand today was so cold and dry, it could have come from a chicken’s beak. How would she tolerate marriage to him?
Ellie sat straight up in bed. She didn’t have a choice. If Uncle Amos, Noreen, Graham’s father and Betsy were to have roofs over their heads, Ellie had to follow through with the decision she’d made just after Graham left. She had to marry Leonard. She had to leave the past—and her love for Graham—behind.
The night’s heat and stickiness did nothing to help her sleep. She got up and poured water from her pitcher into her bathing bowl and carried it to one of her open windows. Setting the bowl on the windowsill, she hoped it would cool whatever breeze might blow in.
As she stood there in the light of the just-waning moon, she caught sight of the pulley and the twine that stretched between her window and Graham’s. Now that she would soon be engaged to Leonard, this message system was certainly not appropriate. It had to go. On impulse, she grabbed the pulley and tugged on it until it wrenched away from the house. Then she sent it flying across the yard, twine and all.
Only it didn’t bring finality to her romance as she’d hoped it would.
Instead, Ellie should have done what Graham was doing—reading. She lit her own gaslight and flopped onto her bed. Then she pulled out her Bible and opened it to a random page.
She read Joshua 8:1 out loud: “‘Fear not, neither be thou dismayed.’”
The problem was that she was both dismayed and afraid, and those feelings probably would not go away anytime in the near future. Neither would her love for Graham.
Maybe a different verse would give her a new perspective. She picked up her Bible and started to open it to another page by chance. But then she heard her mother’s voice in her mind, warning her against using that method exclusively when seeking an answer from God.
Do You have a special verse for me tonight, Father?
Mother’s favorite Bible verse came to mind, and she turned to Philippians 4:13 and read it aloud. “‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’”
Ellie twisted Mother’s pearl ring on her right hand. You can do anything you set your mind to.
Had Mother done what she’d set her mind to? Ellie had been her one concern in life, and Mother had certainly raised her to love God, as she’d set out to do.
And, come to think of it, Ellie had set her mind to holding on to Magnolia Grove, as well as this house, throughout this entire war. And she’d done it, against all odds. So why back down now, just because things looked impossible?
She cast her gaze toward Graham’s window again. He’d spent everything he had, believing God would help him. He’d prayed, gotten direction from God and put a plan to work.
So why didn’t Ellie do the same? Would she turn coward now, when they might win this battle with Leonard—when she and Graham might soon be free to love? Perhaps God was giving her a chance to trust Him with all that was dearest to her.
Leonard was the coward. Her father was the gambler. Ellie was neither. She was a woman in love, a woman who trusted God.
Lord, I’ll keep trying. If I fail, then at least I’ll know I did my best. I’m counting on You to guide us through these next days.
Ellie looked up and saw that Graham’s room was dark. She closed her Bible just as Dixie’s hooves sounded on the packed dirt of Commerce Street.
* * *
Just after dawn the next morning, Graham sneaked in the back door of his home, hoping not to raise the family. As soon as he’d cracked open the door, he smelled ham and biscuits.
Aunt Ophelia. That woman had made herself a blessing in their home. He headed to the dining room and found her in a bright pink dress, pouring coffee for Father.
“You’re both up early.”
“And you’re slipping in at first light for one of my biscuits.” Aunt Ophelia made for the sideboard, where she poured another cup and handed it to Graham.
He reached for the steaming cup and sipped the brew. “I just stopped in to borrow Father’s old boots, but I don’t mind having a bite before I head back out. About two o’clock this morning, I heard something in Magnolia Grove’s cypress bog, and when I went out there to investigate, I slid into the water. My feet have been wet ever since.”
“Ellie’s light was on late last night.” Father looked up from his plate and, for the
first time since he came home, made firm eye contact with Graham.
“Father...are you well?”
Aunt Ophelia pulled Graham to the side as his father turned his attention back to his plate. “He’s coming and going this morning,” she whispered. “But he’s better than he was. He keeps talking about Ellie’s light, but at least he hasn’t mentioned Daisy during breakfast.”
Did his father sense Graham’s turmoil, and had he somehow rallied himself to help? Time would tell, but for now, Graham would take any good news that came his way. Maybe if he continued discussing the topic of Father’s interest, the older man would progress even more. “I saw it too, Father. She’s struggling. I prayed for her through the midnight hour.”
“As did I, son. Do you have the mind of the Lord in the matter?”
Graham swallowed hard, the lump in his throat barely allowing him to breathe. How many times had he heard his father say those words? And now he was coherent enough to say them again and, best of all, to recognize Graham as his son. He glanced at Aunt Ophelia, who also caught the significance of the statement, judging from the tears she suddenly wiped from her eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, Father. I believe I do.”
“Then act on it quickly.”
“I intend to.” Graham seated himself and, after silently thanking God for the food, he ate his breakfast more hurriedly than the fare deserved.
A quiet tapping sounded at the back door.
“Who would call at quarter past six in the morning? Whoever it is, it must not be an emergency. He didn’t knock loudly enough for that.” Aunt Ophelia stopped fussing at the sideboard, which again contained a little gold, thanks to the sale of Graham’s ring, and hastened to the door.
Moments later, Ellie crept into the room, her light blue skirts rustling less than usual with her careful gait. Her blue eyes shone in the morning light, making him catch his breath. Was she always this lovely so early in the morning? It was a look he would never tire of waking up to—every day of his life.
“Is Betsy up? I don’t want to awaken her.”
Graham and his father stood, then Graham seated her next to himself.
“Betsy has been mercifully sound asleep since four o’clock, and so is Noreen.” Aunt Ophelia hastened toward the butler’s pantry and returned with a plate and silver service.
Ellie accepted it with thanks and helped herself to a ham biscuit, her face alight. “I have an idea.”
Graham should have known. That’s what that look always meant.
“Your light was on late last night,” Father said, no hint of expression on his face.
Ellie’s bright smile made up for it. “You’re right, Colonel. You must be feeling better.”
“But your light was on late last night,” he said again in an insistent tone.
“I’m all right now. I had things to think about.”
“Including your new idea, no doubt.” How crazy would it be? But she was here, and she was making plans. That meant she hadn’t given up.
God, You’ve been good to us. And Graham’s renewed prayer life was not the least of His blessings. No longer did his prayers seem to vanish as soon as they left his mouth.
“Miss Ophelia, there’s going to be a whole passel of men out at Magnolia Grove guarding my cotton for the next three days. They need a woman on hand to cook for them.” Ellie sipped the coffee his aunt set before her. “I need Lilah May to stay here to help take care of Uncle Amos. Would you be interested in the job? I’m running low on provisions, so we’ll serve ham from my storage room and vegetables from my garden. That should hold us over until my payment for the first cotton shipment comes in.”
“I’ve replenished our coffee, sugar and flour with the little money I came home with, so we can contribute some of that, as well,” Graham said.
Aunt Ophelia gave her a saucy grin. “I’ll start getting things together right away.”
For a change, Ellie’s plan wasn’t bad.
He stopped the thought cold. In the past, he’d grown accustomed to her ideas bringing nothing but chaos. But her recent schemes had worked out for their good. Mostly. Perhaps he needed to change his attitude toward them.
But something told him he would always groan a little when hearing her announce a new plan.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ellie, I’ve never seen anything quite so unconventional.” Miss Ophelia’s stage whisper surely carried all the way across Magnolia Grove’s backyard as she and Ellie stood on the gallery just before dusk that night.
Ellie cast her gaze over the twenty or so workers striding from the cabins toward the house after a hard day of hoeing cotton. They propped their hoes against the side of the house, stepped onto the back gallery and entered the great hall. Sugar followed and flopped down in the middle of them.
“I agree, but these men are risking their own safety to help me. I wanted to have prayer here in my house, in the home where I spent much of my childhood and made some of my best memories.”
They went inside, where the workers, Moses, Mister Sutton and Graham doffed their hats and bowed the knee. As Graham began his prayer, Ellie also dropped to her knees, her gratitude for this moment clouding her vision. Each man here had volunteered his help, refusing pay. Such loyalty was worth more than piles of gold or barns full of cotton.
Graham ended his prayer for protection, wisdom and insight by opening his Bible. “Remember Philippians 4:13: ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’”
After the final “amen,” the workers filed out the front door, Miss Ophelia following. Graham hung behind with Ellie.
“Sutton and Moses are in charge of guarding the abandoned house and outbuildings. I’ll be just up the road at the chapel, close to you. As I hope always to be.” His voice was now barely a whisper. “I know what you said and I know what you meant, but that’s not the way this will end. I’m going to defend your property, I’m going to see your cotton onto the ship, and then I’m going to come back and say a few things to you that have been on my mind. No matter what.”
This man—this warrior—kindled her hope in ways she hadn’t dreamed. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”
Graham leaned down and dropped the lightest of kisses onto her lips—a kiss of anticipation, of promise, like a vow. She brought her fingers to his cheek, brushing them against the evening stubble there. His lips tasted of coffee and cream as he kissed her again, stealing her breath. Then he broke away, gazing at her with those beautiful green-gray eyes.
“I have my mind set on one thing.” Graham touched his finger to her lips for an instant. Then he set out, looking every inch the colonel.
If Leonard came here tonight, he’d face a fiery opponent.
As Ellie took a moment to catch her breath, Miss Ophelia sailed into the great hall. “I take it the courtship is resumed.”
Now, how did she know what had been going on? “Perhaps, in time.”
The older woman’s laughter rang out like the dinner bell. “If that’s what you want me to think, then that’s what I’ll think. But it’s a good thing I came along to chaperone.”
It was past time to change the subject. “There’s a breeze tonight. Would you like to sit on the widow’s walk and cool off? This room is sweltering.”
They extinguished the gaslights and headed upstairs to the second-floor great hall, Sugar trailing behind them.
“This is my favorite place in the house,” Ellie said as they reached the homey room at the top of the stairs. “Since all the bedrooms open into it, Uncle Amos, Lilah May and I used to sit here in the evenings, talking and reading. I miss those days.”
They coaxed Sugar up the narrow, enclosed stairs that led to the roof, then settled into comfortable rockers. The moon hid behind a heavy bank of clouds and did not
reveal even the privy or the two cistern houses twenty yards from the back gallery.
“I have good memories in this house too,” Miss Ophelia said, rocking gently. “Your uncle and I have always been dear friends, you know.”
How well she knew of the courtship this woman and Uncle Amos had fabricated long before Ellie was born. Too much of Miss Ophelia’s life paralleled Ellie’s own, a fact that still frightened her if she allowed herself to think about it.
“I visited Amos before we left for Magnolia Grove. I think much of his illness is caused by his anguish over the war, and I told him so.”
Ellie wasn’t alone in her opinion? The fact brought a measure of comfort.
“The stroke of apoplexy certainly caused his paralysis, but he could still be productive, still live, if he’d exert himself a bit. Before I left, he asked Lilah May to send for Roman to help him downstairs. He wants to move his bedroom down there.”
Uncle Amos—going down the stairs? “Is that wise? The doctor hasn’t said to move him.”
“He’ll die in that bed if he doesn’t get out of it. That’s what I told Amos.”
Ellie could hardly argue with that.
The light breeze and gentle humming of cicadas enticed Ellie into laying her head against the back of the rocker and closing her eyes.
She drifted in and out of sleep until Sugar’s low growl raised her from a light doze. Sitting up slowly, she looked in the direction the dog faced and heard the four-beat gait of a horse walking up the lane. Graham?
“Miss Ophelia, someone’s riding toward the house.” She touched her shoulder.
The older lady roused and leaned forward in her rocker, peering over the railing. “Can’t be important. He’s riding too slowly for that.”
The sound of hooves came closer to the house, and the shadowy figure of man and horse appeared. The man dismounted, and Sugar growled again, louder this time.
Ellie sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s Leonard. He’s the only person Sugar has ever growled at,” she whispered.
Miss Ophelia shaded her eyes as if that would help her see him better. “A dog’s growl isn’t the most reliable way to identify a man.”
Counterfeit Courtship Page 22