“I. . .you. . .I’ll have it ready for you in a week,” Margaret stammered. She would stay up nights if she had to in order to finish the order in time. When word of this got around town, Margaret was sure to be deluged with work.
Just imagine! I, Margaret Porter, will be making a bonnet for the famous diva of the opera!
fifteen
On a cold afternoon in January, Mikal walked unannounced into Margaret’s Millinery Shoppe with an armload of boxes. He dropped them on the counter and said, “Happy New Year! I’m back!”
When she saw him, Margaret squealed with delight and ran around the counter, where he stood with his arms outstretched. “Mikal!”
He lifted her like a rag doll, twirling her around and around. When he finally let her feet touch the floor, she was so dizzy that she fell against him and lingered a moment longer than necessary when she felt the warmth of his strong embrace. “Oh, Mikal, I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve so much to tell you!”
“And I have things to tell you, too.” Pointing to the boxes on the counter, he said, “These are some of the books I brought from New England to stock our shelves, and there’s more to be brought in from the Windsong later today. They’ll be delivered by one of the deckhands.”
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I hope you’ve brought more fabrics, too. I’m running low on several things, and I’m completely out of red velvet. The holidays, you know.”
He let his eyes roam over the store. “I can see you’ve been busy. You’ve done wonders here, Margaret.”
Their conversation was cut short by three customers who came in together, each wanting to place an order for Easter.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Mikal offered. “You take care of your customers while I open these boxes and begin to put the books on the shelves.”
“Books?” one of the ladies asked. “What kind of books do you have?”
“Why, we have several kinds, ma’am. I’ll have some of them unpacked by the time you place your orders with Miss Porter, and you’ll be welcome to look them over.”
“You mean they’re for sale?” another of the ladies asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Miss Porter will soon be selling books as well as bonnets.” He smiled politely before he turned his back to them and began to open his boxes.
“My, isn’t our city becoming progressive?” the customer remarked. “Just think, 1837 has barely begun, and already we’re getting a new bookstore! We don’t have to send all the way to New Orleans for the latest millinery fashions anymore, and soon we’ll be able to buy all the newest books and magazines, too. It’s so exciting to be living in this modern age!”
Mikal smiled to himself as the ladies behind him continued to expound on the wonders of the modern world. He could not disagree that these were indeed exciting times. He and Margaret were standing on the threshold of opportunity. If only he felt as confident about his personal life as he did about his business, he would be the happiest man on earth.
He had wrestled with decisions all the way from New York to Apalachicola, and still he did not know what he should do about Margaret. He had grown to love her more than he had ever thought it possible to love any living creature, but because he loved her so much, he would not risk hurting her by declaring it. He knew that for him, marriage was out of the question, and he wanted desperately to be fair to Margaret. He also knew that she was attracted to him, for whatever reason. Perhaps he should discourage this friendship that threatened to develop into something more. Margaret was a young and attractive woman. She needed a chance to broaden her acquaintances to include men who were eligible for a lasting relationship that Mikal could never offer.
He had asked God to lead him in the paths he should follow, but those paths had not yet been revealed to him. He would continue to pray, and he would seek John Gorrie’s advice when the opportunity presented itself. John was the smartest and most sensible man he knew, and even more important, John was a dedicated Christian. This would not be the first matter on which Mikal had sought his advice.
Between customers, Mikal asked Margaret, “What time do you close the shop?”
“Six o’clock,” she told him. “But that’s when my real work here begins. I do most of my cutting and sewing at night now, because that’s the only free time I have.”
“Well, you must make an exception tonight. At six o’clock, we’re locking up, and we’re going to the dining room of the Mansion House. After we enjoy a good meal, we’ll sit in the lobby and talk. We have a lot of things to catch up on, so we might as well find a comfortable place where we won’t be interrupted.”
Margaret did not even have time to answer him before the next customer walked in. “Good afternoon, miss. May I help you?”
❧
For dining in the Mansion House Hotel, Margaret wore her green satin gown. With its puffy leg-o’-mutton sleeves, it was the more elegant of the only two dressy outfits she had left. She longed for some of the trousseau gowns that she cut up to make bonnets for the ladies from Fort Brooke, but there was no need to look back on that now. They had served a good purpose when she had needed them most.
Across the table, Mikal appeared very debonair in his closely fitted waistcoat. His dark blue eyes sparkled in the flickering candlelight. Margaret’s heart was so full of love for him that she could hardly swallow. But she valued his friendship too much to risk spoiling it by letting him know of her feelings. She tried to nibble at her food and carry on a sensible conversation.
“I have missed you, Margaret.”
“And I you, Mikal.” Trying to maintain a steady voice, she moved to a less personal subject. “How was the trip this time? Was the weather pleasant?”
“It was pleasant enough.”
Margaret thought that Mikal seemed moody tonight, not at all like his usual lighthearted self. Was he disappointed in the way she was handling the business, or did he have something else on his mind?
The first course, a delicate clam chowder, was served in thin, porcelain cups. Margaret’s stomach felt just as it had when she rode the high seas, but tonight her nerves and not ocean waves were the cause.
“How long will you be able to stay in Apalachicola this time?” she asked. If the past was any indication, he would be sailing away in just a few short days.
“I’m not sure; it’ll depend on what we can contract to haul north on the Windsong. There’s a lot of cotton coming in at this time of the year, and I’m working on an arrangement to fill the schooner on the return trips from New York. I need to talk to John tomorrow. He’s asked me to help him on a very big project.”
“Something to do with his cooling machine?”
“Not this time. This has to do with his church. He has an idea of putting up a very large and elaborate structure for Trinity. He has his heart set on something he saw in New York, a Greek Revival church. The trouble is, he’d have to get most of the work done in New York and then have it shipped here by schooner. I’m not even sure that’s possible, but if he’s able to bring his plans to fruition, Apalachicola will have a church like no other in the south.”
“You’d bring a whole church down on the Windsong? Could you do that?”
“It would have to be shipped in pieces. Right now we’re just in the talking stage, but if he can pull together the finances, I’d sure like to give it a try. It would work in well with the cotton trade, because I never have trouble filling my cargo going north. If this thing works out, he’d pretty much tie up the space for a while on return trips.”
Margaret’s face clouded. “Then you wouldn’t be able to bring down millinery supplies or books?”
Mikal laughed and reached across the table to cover her hand. “Margaret, don’t worry your pretty head about that. You just keep making your bonnets, and I’ll make sure that you don’t run out of supplies. As for the books, we’ll see how these first ones move before I bring in any more.”
The feel of his warm hand covering hers sent tingles up Marga
ret’s arm that coursed through her whole body. She willed her trembling hand not to betray her emotions. “I’ve sold two books already, Mikal. As soon as word gets around, I’m sure we’ll need more.” She slid her hand from under his. “We’d better eat our soup before it gets cold.”
After a deliciously satisfying meal, Margaret led the way into the plush hotel lobby. Mikal, following close behind, resisted the urge to hold her hand. He wanted a clear head when he talked to her tonight.
She sat on the sofa and saved room for him beside her, but he chose a chair that faced her.
Just one more indication that his feelings for me are based on nothing more than friendship, Margaret thought, adjusting her green skirts over the couch.
“Margaret,” he began, “it concerns me that you are spending all your time in the shop. I know that your work is very demanding, but I’d like you to find time to get out and meet people, socialize more.”
Margaret’s lips curved in a smile. “And where would you like for me to do this socializing? In the tavern down the street?”
“You know me better than that. I just thought perhaps you might get involved with a church group. You could meet nice people and get out and have some fun once in a while.” He did not add that she might also have the spiritual awakening he continued to pray for.
“I’ll give the matter some thought,” she promised. “How about you? Are you finding time to ‘socialize,’ as you put it?” She could not help but wonder if someone in New York watched for his return there with the same eagerness that she waited for him here.
“It’s different for me. The sea is my life, Margaret.” He looked deep into her eyes and spoke those words with a severity that frightened her. What was he trying to tell her?
“I do get out of the store sometimes on Sundays,” she said, wanting to shift the conversation to safer ground. “In fact, I had quite an adventure on Sunday before last. Let me tell you about that.”
Margaret began to tell him of her trip to the walnut grove and her fall into the creek. Then she told him about the Indian who had come to her rescue. She did not fill in all the details of how her terrified flight had caused her to fall or of the ups and downs of her emotions that followed. She simply ended her story by saying that she could not swim, and the man had pulled her from the current and carried her safely to dry land. “So you see, I don’t spend all of my time in the shop!”
Mikal’s heart stood still as he listened to her story. “Mar-garet, you should not have wandered off into the woods alone. It’s much too dangerous. Renegade Indians and outlaws roam freely through the territory. Things here are not as they are in the States, where you have laws and people to enforce them. Please promise me that you won’t do anything like that again.”
Having been scared out of her wits that frightening Sunday afternoon, Margaret had long since resolved not to repeat her adventure, but what right did Mikal have to tell her what she could and could not do? If he were so concerned about her welfare, why didn’t he stay around and take care of her?
“I’m well able to take care of myself, Mikal. Please don’t concern yourself about my safety.”
“Listen to me, Margaret. . .”
“It’s getting late, Mikal. I think we should start walking back now. I open my shop at eight in the morning, and it’s already half past nine.”
Without further words, Mikal rose and escorted her out the door to the street. When he tried to hail a hackney, she stopped him. “It’s so pleasant out tonight. Let’s just walk.”
They walked along the street in silence, each engrossed in serious thoughts, but they did not hold hands, although a lover’s moon beamed down on them from the starry night sky.
sixteen
Margaret was up at first light, using her morning cup of tea to wash down a piece of stale cornbread. She smoothed her blanket over her mattress and dressed in her work clothes. She had several bonnets to trim before her shop opened at eight.
Downstairs at her cutting table, she worked furiously, letting her scraps of thread and cloth fall on the floor beside her. Alex would soon be in to sweep up before he went to school. How fortunate she was to have found such a dependable lad!
When she heard a rap on her front door, she assumed that it would be Alex, and she rose to let him in.
“Good morning, Margaret! I hope I’m not interrupting your work.” Mikal stepped into the shop with another box of books. “I’ll try not to disturb you. This is my last box of books to shelve, and I wanted to get on with it early, because this is the last you’ll see of me for a while.”
Margaret’s heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat. “Surely you’re not leaving town so soon!”
“No, nothing like that. But I told you about John Gorrie’s idea for the new building for his church. He and I will be in meetings most of today with some of the local bankers, discussing the financial feasibility. Then for the next few days we’ll be looking over his plans to see what all might be involved in shipping such a large structure. He has the idea of getting most of the actual construction done in New York and then having the church building shipped to Apalachicola in four different sections.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing! Is this sort of thing done often?”
Mikal chuckled. “I have to admit this is a first for me, and frankly, we aren’t sure whether the idea will work or not. That’s what we’re going to spend the next several days trying to decide. I hope—”
His sentence was severed when the front door swung open and Alex dashed in waving a piece of paper in his hand. “Miss Margaret, here’s—”
“Alex, say good morning to Mr. Lee. He’s part owner of this shop, and I’ve already told him what a help you’ve been for me.”
Alex murmured a hasty “pleased to meetcha” before he turned back to Margaret. “I’m supposed to give you this note. Mr. Robards gave me a whole dollar to deliver it.”
“A dollar,” Margaret said, amazed at the amount quoted for a simple delivery. “It must be a very important message!”
“Yes’m, an’ he told me to wait for your answer, an’ if I bring it back to him, he’s gonna gimme some more money! So could you please, ma’am, go ahead an’ read it an’ send me back with your answer? I’ll hurry up an’ come back here to do my chores.”
Margaret stepped over to the counter to read her note, but Mikal was right beside her. “Robards? That wouldn’t be Harry Robards, would it?”
Margaret did not answer, but held the message close to her chest as she read so as not to reveal its contents. “Miss Porter, I am humbly requesting the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening at seven. I hope that you will honor my request, as I have some matters of great importance to discuss with you. Your faithful servant, Harry Robards.”
Alex stood impatiently shifting from one foot to the other with obvious visions of wealth dancing in his young head. “So what kin I tell him, Miss Margaret? He said if you tell him you’ll go, he’ll give me another dollar, but if you say no, then I only get fifty cents.”
Mikal’s face was crimson with rage. “Tell him the lady is not interested,” he said to Alex. “You tell him that, and I’ll give you the dollar myself!”
But as Alex turned to go, Margaret grabbed him by the sleeve. “Just a minute, Alex. That message was sent to me, and I believe that I’m the one from whom Mr. Robards is expecting a reply.” How dare Mikal try to make decisions for me! He’s going to spend the next three days running around town without allotting so much as an hour of his time with me, and he thinks I’ll just sit here waiting for his return? Well, he’s got another think coming. “Alex, tell Mr. Robards that I will be expecting him at seven.”
“Yes’m.” The confused child went running out of the store, eager to deliver his message and collect his money from someone—anyone!
“I’ll be back in a minute to do my chores,” he called over his shoulder.
Margaret turned fiery eyes to Mikal. “When it comes
to the business, I don’t mind your suggestions, Mikal, but when it comes to my personal life, that should be none of your concern.”
“Margaret, do you even know who Harry Robards is?” Mikal raked his fingers through his blond hair in frustration. “Have you ever heard of Lewis Robards?” He saw by her expression that she did not recognize the name. “He’s the scoundrel who was married to Rachel Jackson. He treated her shamefully and told her that he had obtained a divorce decree nullifying their marriage. She married Andrew Jack-son, only to find out later that her divorce was not legal. That poor woman lived in shame and embarrassment until Andy took all the steps to put things right. Why, I hear tell the poor lady was so embarrassed that, up until the day she died, she hardly set foot outside her own door.”
As shocking as these facts were, Margaret was determined not to give in to Mikal’s possessive manner. “Well, I don’t see what Lewis’s actions have to do with Harry. I suppose you are telling me that they are related, but surely Harry can’t be held responsible for something Lewis has done. Why, Mikal, you’re the very one who told me not to be prejudiced against one for the actions of another. Don’t you remember?”
Mikal struggled to control his temper. It was not Margaret who caused his anger—it was that scalawag, Harry Robards. “I–I’m sorry, Margaret. I know I came on pretty strong, but the fact is, Harry Robards has a bit of a reputation in this town, one I don’t think you’d want your name linked to.”
“Why, Mikal Lee,” she said with a coquettish grin, “I do believe you’re jealous!”
“Of course I’m not! It’s just that. . .”
“And you’re the one who told me I should get out and socialize more. Well, I think that was a good piece of advice, and I’m going to try to follow it.” Margaret was delighted to watch Mikal’s discomfort. Could it possibly be that he really was jealous?
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