Counterfeit Courtship

by Christina Miller

  “But you helped save my home, my cotton.”

  “I did, but you helped save my daughter. That’s not even close to a fair trade.” He tipped his hat as he mounted his horse. “We’ll always be in your debt.”

  As he rode down the drive, Ellie took in all Mister Sutton had said. He was right. A plantation was nothing compared to a child.

  “Forgive me for speaking the obvious, Ellie,” Graham said, “but you gave Mrs. Sutton your last gold dollar in order to provide for her child. If you can do that, you’ll always be able to provide for your own child. Even if you have to rely on others, as Mrs. Sutton did.”

  He was right. She’d provided for little Annie—maybe even saved her life.

  “You did it for love, and you received love in return. The Suttons would do anything for you now.”

  Then the nearly full moon peeked out from the clouds, and its cool light cast a grim reality on the gallery and what could have happened that night. Graham extinguished the torch and they strolled into the backyard, away from the charred wood and heavy smell of smoke.

  They stopped to sit on a bench under a crape myrtle, the moonlight now spilling out around them. Ellie arranged her skirts, then realized how silly that was, considering their wet, dirty condition.

  “You’re the most generous, loving person I know.” Graham took her hand and brushed his fingers over her wrist, his eyes a deeper green in the moonbeams. “That tender heart of yours is what made me fall in love with you.”

  And she still loved him after all this time. Not merely with the love of her former days, a young love that longed for a life of fun and adventure with him. No, the years and hardships had aged and matured her feelings for Graham into a lasting devotion. A sweet blend of the joy of youth and the stability of years. “I’ve loved you since we met. Since long before that night. But...”

  “What is it, Ellie?” He met her gaze, his heart in his eyes as she’d seen it all those years ago. “We’ve always been right for each other. We belong together.”

  They did—he was right. “But what if I rely on you and something happens and I lose you—just as I did when my parents died?”

  “Then you’ll go back to the way you live now. You’ll hold things together as you always have. And you’ll have the memory of a happy life filled with love.”

  He made it sound so simple. “If things turned out that way and we were together, I could still take care of the plantation?”

  “Honey, it wouldn’t work if you didn’t. It doesn’t have to be you providing or me providing. Why can’t we be partners instead? Look how well we worked together tonight. Without both of us, this place would have burned to the ground. What’s wrong with each of us doing what we do best?”

  That made more sense than anything she’d ever imagined. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s a great plan.”

  “I never thought I would find love again. How could I when I never stopped loving you?” She wasn’t prepared for the emotion, the vulnerability, dawning in his eyes. “Maybe I’m fooling myself now, but I thought you might want to...”

  “I do, Graham.” She laid her hand over his heart. “I always have.”

  His heart pounded under her hand. “We complete each other, Ellie. You give me lightheartedness and fun. As long as we’ve been apart, I haven’t had that.”

  “And you bring me stability, solidness. I’m not as flighty as I used to be.”

  “You’re still flighty enough to be interesting.” He stood and plucked a white myrtle blossom from the tree. A full smile dimpled his cheeks as he handed the flower to her. “Will you marry me, Ellie? Right away?”

  She took in his stunning eyes, his strong jaw. And now the dimples. He’d changed, as had she—and she found she liked it. Liked it a lot. She breathed in the bloom’s scent. “I will. Right away.”

  “Ellie, I’m a gentleman, and I’ve never broken a promise to a lady. But I’m breaking one now.”

  Breathless, she slipped her hand onto his arm. “What promise?”

  And then, with his tender touch sweeping away a tiny bit of her fear, he drew nearer. “To keep this courtship a counterfeit.”

  Then she kissed him, but not a light, gentle kiss like he gave her in the great hall that evening. No, this was a kiss of commitment, of a deeper promise than she’d thought possible. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and felt him pull her closer. A man like Graham, needing her to complete him—the thought brought tears to her eyes. And she needed him too, more than she’d known before this moment.

  Finally, she broke away. Her cotton payment would come tomorrow, and they’d have enough money to have the reception she’d always wanted—at Magnolia Grove. “I’ll marry you, Graham. The day after tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days later, Ellie awakened to a thunking sound against her windowpane.

  She sprang from her bed and drew the pen barrel inside. Graham must have affixed the secret-message pulley to her window frame yesterday while she delivered her wedding invitations. She untied the crape myrtle blossom from the vessel and held the white flower to her nose. A faint, sweet scent, subtle yet enduring.

  When she had extracted the message, she returned to her bed to read it.

  Wake up, sleepyhead! In two hours, I’ll be at your house to beau you to church. And this time, you’d better have your bridal veil, not your grandmother’s old hat.

  Your soon-to-be husband,

  Graham

  Smiling at his little references to the note she’d sent him just days ago, she grabbed a sheet of her plum-colored stationery and jotted a note in return.

  I’ll be ready before you are. The race is on!

  Your loving, faithful, devoted intended. And this time, that’s no joke!

  She hastened to the window, then caught her breath. At least a dozen blue handkerchiefs flew like flags from the windows of his house.

  Blue flags—an invitation to an adventure.

  She grabbed the twine and sent the missile sailing above their lawns. “I’m pleased to accept your invitation, Colonel Talbot!”

  * * *

  Later that morning, Colonel and Mrs. Graham Talbot exited the crowded church amid a flurry of rice. Even Father joined in the custom, a smile in his eyes for the first time since he returned from war.

  As the two families drove to Magnolia Grove, Ellie’s face shone bright as the morning sun. “I don’t care if Miss Ophelia sees me kiss you now, husband.” She edged closer and did just that, a warm, gentle kiss that made all their struggles worth it.

  Graham laughed, his tone as light as his heart. “She’s in the carriage that went north to your house to get Lilah May’s pies—and Sugar—and we’re going south to Magnolia Grove. So if you meant to shock her with that kiss, it didn’t work.”

  “However, your stepmother is in the backseat of this buggy,” Noreen said amidst Betsy’s chatter. “But she isn’t shocked. In fact, she approves.”

  “So does your father.”

  Graham felt his eyes fill, his heart nearly bursting with the blessed changes in his life and family.

  When they drove down Magnolia Grove’s dirt drive, past the cypress bog and then under the canopy of live oaks, Ellie kept her gaze straight ahead as if memorizing each detail. “Pretty soon, the whole yard will be full of carriages and wagons. Miss Ophelia will love that.”

  “The gallery looks lovely, Ellie,” Noreen said as they drew closer to the house. “I didn’t expect you to get it fixed in time.”

  “Graham did that. He gave all the workers the option of either hoeing cotton or cleaning, painting, mowing, weeding, repairing the gallery and helping him install a new door. They all chose to work here.”

  The house didn’t look as festive as it would have, had they married be
fore the war and the hardships it brought. But the vases of crape myrtle blossoms on the outdoor tables looked more beautiful to Graham than bushels of orchids.

  When they stopped in front of the house, Graham got out to help Ellie. Father also hastened around to the other side to assist Noreen and Betsy.

  Yes, change had come to the Talbot and Anderson families.

  Noreen headed straight for the kitchen dependency to check on the food and help the women Graham had hired to cook. She had barely left his sight around the house when the first carriages started down the lane.

  Susanna Martin and a Confederate lieutenant she’d found somewhere greeted them first. “I declare, Colonel, I can’t keep up with you two. Just days ago, Ellie told me herself that your courtship was over.”

  Her petulant tone grated against Graham’s nerves, but it didn’t seem to bother her escort, who turned a haughty smile on her. “You know how these affairs of the heart are, dear,” the lieutenant said. “Here today and gone tomorrow.”

  At the man’s words, Susanna looked so disappointed that Graham almost felt sorry for her. Nevertheless, he couldn’t allow the soldier to cast a shadow on Ellie’s day—and his. “Not all romances are that way, Lieutenant. It depends solely on the hearts behind them.”

  Guests continued to arrive and mingle, and just as Noreen whispered to him that the meal was ready, a carriage came racing down the drive.

  It looked like Ellie’s landau. Was Ellie’s household not here yet? He glanced around for them. “What on earth—”

  Some calamity had to have happened for Roman to drive in such a manner. Graham ran to meet the carriage as it ground to a stop amid a whirl of dust.

  “Graham!” Joseph bounded from the carriage as if he were thirty years younger. “A letter—from President Johnson—”

  If he said more, Graham didn’t hear it. He gave only a glance to the envelope’s return address: 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington City...

  He ripped it open and pulled out a huge sheet of paper, folded in fourths.

  * * *

  “ANDREW JOHNSON

  PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  TO ALL TO WHOM THESE PRESENTS SHALL COME, GREETING:

  Whereas, Graham P. Talbot of Adams County, Mississippi, by taking part in the late rebellion against the Government of the United States, has made himself liable to heavy pains and penalties...”

  * * *

  His voice cracked, and he realized he’d been reading it aloud. He tried to keep reading, but his throat tightened and nothing came out but a croak. No. It couldn’t be. Was this a warrant for his arrest? That seemed ridiculous, but what else could the document mean? “My pardon has been denied...”

  Ellie took the paper from his trembling hands and scanned down the page until she let out a cry. “You didn’t read far enough. Listen—

  “Now, therefore, be it known that I, Andrew Johnson, President of the United States of America, in consideration of the premises, diverse other good and sufficient reasons me thereunto moving, do hereby grant to the said Graham P. Talbot a full pardon and amnesty for all offenses by him committed, arising from participation...”

  She shoved the paper back into his hands. “It’s your pardon!”

  Pardon. It couldn’t be. He skimmed the words that now blurred on the paper in his hand. “Where does it say that? I want to see the word pardon.”

  Ellie poked the paper. “Right below the spot where you stopped reading.” She eyed the page again. “You’ll have to read the whole thing later, because it has instructions about taking the oath of loyalty and responding to the pardon.”

  And there it was. His pardon. Thank You, God.

  He pulled Ellie—his wife—close as the gathered crowd clapped and shouted their congratulations. Then he had to take a moment to wipe his soggy eyes before he could continue. He looked around at the family standing about him—Noreen, Father, little Betsy and Aunt Ophelia, who looked a bit disheveled but pink-cheeked after the whirlwind buggy ride. His new family, Ellie and Amos, who looked dapper with Aunt Ophelia at his side. Roman and Lilah May, who muttered about her pies being ruined during that wild ride. The tables laden with food. His neighbors and friends. Joseph, who brought the good news. Even a string orchestra to entertain them.

  He didn’t deserve this. How had his life turned out so good? He’d never know, but he intended to give thanks to the One who’d orchestrated it all.

  He turned to their minister, standing beside him, no doubt waiting to be called upon to ask the blessing for the food. “Reverend Gifford, I hope you’ll forgive me for the unconventional deed I’m about to do. According to tradition, the minister should pray over this meal, but I have much to thank God for, and I can’t let another man do that for me.”

  With Reverend Gifford’s blessing, Graham glanced around the lawn at their guests, each bowing the head or knee. “Father, you’ve overwhelmed me with Your goodness. I did nothing to deserve all this, so I give You thanks. Your hand brought all this blessing to me, and I thank You in the name of Your Son, Jesus. Amen.”

  “Meh-men!” Betsy’s little voice rang out next to him, and he kissed her soft hair.

  “Ellie, you said you would throw the biggest party Natchez has ever seen, before or after the war.” Joseph held up his cup of icy Chatham Artillery punch—without the liquor, of course. “And you’ve done just that. Congratulations on outfoxing a weasel, and best wishes on your marriage.”

  Amid shouts and well-wishes, Miss Ophelia insisted Graham and Ellie serve themselves first, and to appease her, they did. Their plates loaded with turkey, étouffée, ham and just about every vegetable he could name, they settled in at the table nearest the house.

  “Before we eat, I want to give this to you.” Ellie held out a small box.

  Oh, no. A wedding gift. “Ellie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think to get you anything.”

  “You did. Your mother’s ring. It’s precious to me and I love it, so just open the box.”

  Graham lifted the lid, and his class ring glittered inside the case. How had she done that? He slid it onto the third finger of his left hand, where all West Point men wore them. Then he gave her a quick hug. “That’s the most perfect gift you could have given me. How’d you know where to get it?”

  “Joseph told me who you sold it to.”

  Graham had a feeling his wife would be one step ahead of him for the rest of his life. And to be honest, that felt pretty good.

  As they began their first meal together as a married couple, the orchestra played the opening notes of “Aura Lea.”

  “Aura Lea—the maid with golden hair.” He touched one of her curls.

  “I don’t know what Aura Lea did, but this golden-haired maid couldn’t be any happier.” She paused and frowned. “Except for one thing.”

  Then she got that look in her eye. She was thinking again...

  “I want to live here, Graham. This is my favorite spot in the world, much homier than our house in town.”

  “That’s the only thing I haven’t figured out yet—where everybody is going to live,” he said. “We have six adults, one baby, one maid, one groom and four houses between us. How is this going to work?”

  Her smile glistened in the afternoon sunlight. “Don’t worry. I have a plan...”

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from STAND-IN RANCHER DADDY by Renee Ryan.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading my first book with Love Inspired Historical!

  Finishing the first draft, I didn’t know how Ellie would overcome her greatest fear. Then I remembered my father always telling me, “You can do anything you set your mind to.” These words helped me through RN training, Bible college and twenty-seven years of marriage and ministry. Thinking of this, I knew Ellie’s
mother had encouraged her the same way. This early teaching, coupled with Philippians 4:13—“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me”—helped Ellie achieve her goal.

  I hope that, like Ellie and me, you have someone who encourages your dreams. If not, Jesus promises to be that strength for you.

  I’d love to hear from you! Please contact me through Love Inspired, at https://www.facebook.com/christinalinstrotmiller, or on Twitter @CLMauthor. See my Sugar, on whom Ellie’s dog is based, at https://www.facebook.com/SugarDogMiller.

  Christina Miller

  Chapter One

  Little Horn, Texas, June 1895

  A full hour before the sun peeked over the horizon, Molly Carson Langley slid out of bed. Ranch work started early in Texas Hill Country. If she wished to make her morning journey before the sun rose, she must hurry.

  With fast, measured steps, she padded through the room. The hardwood floor was polished to a smooth patina and felt warm beneath her bare feet. A muffled sigh slipped past her lips. After three years of marriage and successfully managing her own household, she didn’t belong in her childhood home anymore.

  She wasn’t sure where she belonged. Until she figured it out, a pair of motherless four-year-olds needed her. That mattered. It had to matter. Of course it mattered.

  Jaw set at a determined angle, Molly stuffed her feet inside a pair of ankle boots and put on her favorite calico dress with the lavender floral print. She wound her blond hair in a loose braid down her back, then packed a small bag with personal items from her dresser. A hairbrush, a rack of pins, several ribbons in colors she hoped the girls would like, and her worn Bible with the pages crinkled at the edges.

  One glance out the window told her the morning sky was shifting from black to deep purple. Dawn was drawing near.

  Hurry, Molly.

  She made her way toward the door. The other occupant in the room slept peacefully, her soft, feminine snoring the only sound cutting through the still, humid air.

  Without breaking stride, Molly smiled down at her sister. At sixteen, the dreams of youth were still fresh and untarnished in Daisy’s young mind. Seven years older, Molly could hardly relate to the girl. The death of her husband eleven months ago made it all the more difficult.