Miss Minnie looked up as she set it down. “How is she feeling?”
“She’s very quiet and doesn’t seem to be sleeping well.”
“She’s still fighting with the dreams. I keep wonderin’ if the time is right. So many have tried.”
Mrs. Chauvin sat down at the table and poured a cup of tea. “Everything has led up to this time. We shall see. We shall see.” They both fell into deep thought for living along the bayou was a place few chose to live but none ever left. The soft breeze blew the strands of moss across the full moon as the fragrance of the magnolia filled the air. The night was alive with ghosts.
Jake pulled his horse up short causing him to dance sideways as he slid off with Sara still in his arms. He ran up the steps two at a time almost crashing into the figure in the doorway. Dr. Ross was silhouetted against the lantern hanging in the foyer dressed only in his breeches and nightshirt. He was an elderly man with snow white hair and a well trimmed beard. His gold rimmed glasses sat on the end of his nose and the finger on his left hand was permanently crooked due to a boat slamming against in when he was young and reckless. Life in Mississippi in the mid-1700s was always challenging but lately the community had dealt with a lot of tragedy.
He looked at Jake and Sara before looking back at the glow coming from Jake’s plantation. “Take her into the back room so I can examine her.” As he passed the staircase he yelled for his wife who appeared on the landing buttoning up her housecoat. She was relieved to see Jake until she realized he was carrying his wife.
“Sara?” She followed them as she yelled orders for the house staff to prepare hot water. “The baby. Is the baby alright?” Her husband tried to work around her but she was leaning over Sara placing her hand on her stomach. “Jake?”
He stood against the wall watching them but said nothing. Dr. Ross talked to her quietly and she left the room heading for the kitchen to get fresh towels and water. The exam only took a few minutes and even though she was breathing shallowly there was nothing they could do except hope that she would be able to expel the smoke. Marbella returned followed by her maid carrying a large bowl of tepid water and they began to undress Sara and wash off the soot. She was aware that Jake was watching but he didn’t invite conversation.
“She should recover but it is going to take a lot of care. I want to keep her here so I can watch her. Do you need to return to the plantation? It looks like most of the fire is out but you might want…”
“I won’t leave her.”
The doctor nodded then pulled a jar off of the shelf and handed it to his wife. She spread it gently on Sara’s chest then pulled up the clean sheet. Sara lay almost lifeless but it would just be a matter of hours before she began to cough up everything she had breathed in. Jake sat down next to the bed and put his head down as though praying. Dr. Ross motioned to his wife and they quietly left the room closing the door part way to give them privacy. They heard the outer door open and they both turned to find Conrad cradling a small bundle in his left arm. Dr. Ross moved the cloth and looked into a tiny pink, wrinkled face. He reached up gently under the bundle to lift it out of Conrad’s arms when his wife reached out taking the baby, turning while talking to the maid to get fresh water and towels. She laid the baby down on the small table in the corner of the examination room and undid the cloth wrapped around her. She was so tiny, still covered in afterbirth and soot but breathing without difficulty.
Marbella examined the baby who had started to whimper then she turned to Conrad. “The baby was birthed when you found her?”
Conrad looked at his brother then back at the baby. “She was wrapped and in Sara’s arms.”
Marbella wrapped the baby in clean clothes then walked up to Jake. “You have a beautiful daughter Jake.” He looked down then away. “Jake, Sara obviously went through a lot tonight to save your daughter.” He blinked as though slapped then put out his arms. When he looked down on the tiny face that was identical to Sara’s, his whole world came crashing down. As he started to fall, Marbella screamed as Conrad grabbed the baby before he collapsed.
They moved him to the front parlor and the doctor used smelling salts to bring him back around. He tried to get up but the doctor pushed him back down and asked Conrad to pour a shot of whisky which had a heavy sedative in it. “I think it is just the shock. It will be best to let him sleep through the night.”
Conrad nodded and walked out onto the front porch looking to the direction of the plantation. He took out a cigar, offered one to Dr. Ross and stood for a moment without speaking.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know. We were all at the docks loading the tobacco crop and decided to have a quick one at the Rouge. When we came out Cecil was riding up the road screaming that the house was on fire.”
“Much damage?”
“The north wing is pretty bad but the structure seems to still be standing.”
“Was Sara caught in the fire?”
“No she had escaped through the cornfields to the river where we found her.”
“But the smoke in her lungs…”
“The cornfields had been deliberately set probably after she fled the house or to prevent her from getting out of the house.”
“I see.” He pondered the implication. “Any idea who would do this? It’s been very peaceful along the river lately but I think it’s time the town seriously discusses hiring a lawman.”
Conrad took the cigar out of his mouth, spit over the railing and put his hat back on. “I think I have things I need to do. Thank you for taking care of them.” He walked down the steps and mounted his horse. The doctor nodded knowing that whoever was responsible would rue the day he crossed paths with a Lanfear.
The smell of smoke was rancid but there was a deep rumbling out over the river and lightening in the distance meant that a large thunderstorm was coming from the south. Conrad loved the smell of the rain as it approached leaving that earthy smell when it first hit and soaked into the ground. His restlessness seemed to be worst since the rest of their family had been attacked and killed while returning home from a trip out east.
Conrad had taken a few men through the mountains looking for his parents who had been weeks overdue. They had finally reached a spot with wagon debris down the side of the mountain about ten miles south of Lookout Mountain. After searching the area, Conrad determined that they had been ambushed probably by robbers but the cliffs were too steep and dangerous to seek either survivors or bodies. He knew giving the news to his brother was going to be hard especially with the upcoming wedding to Sara. 1778 was a very bad year for the family.
Springtime and the wedding seemed to come fast and everyone was grateful to have something good to attend. The wedding was subdued but the bride was more beautiful than a sunrise across an open field of wildflowers. They celebrated late into the night before Jake slipped Sara out of the house and into his carriage. Carrying her up the stairs as though there was no weight to her, Jake set her down as he put the bottle of whisky on the bed stand. She stood in the middle of the room taking in the beauty of the large poster bed and warm fire. He touched her lightly under the chin and brought her mouth up to his. Then he kissed her nose, her eyelids, along the line of her chin then he kissed her so passionately that he actually lifted her off the floor. Her hair started to unravel where he touched it as he slid his hand down her back and undid her gown. He stepped back and allowed the gown to slide slowly to her feet then he attempted to undo her undergarments. She giggled as he cursed in his attempts. “Sara!”
“Jake everything good in life is worth the aggravation to get it.” She looked deep into his eyes with a glean he had become accustomed to from their earliest days of courting. He kissed her again then spun her around as she squealed throwing her hands over her mouth so no one would hear but by then her giggling was uncontrollable.
“Sara…” He finally released the last stay and she was standing before him completely naked. Placing his hands on her shoulder, h
e turned her to face him and stepped back in an attempt to memorize every inch of her body. Jake pulled her toward him while his hands encircled her breasts and slowly moved down to her hips. His kisses became more passionate and fervent when he finally swept her off of her feet and rolled on the bed with her.
“Jake, I love you.” But he was past the point of being able to respond verbally. Love would always be the sweet smell of whiskey and jasmine on the night breeze.
Conrad sat on his horse facing the smoldering house in which he had been born and raised, in which is father had been born and raised and which should be where Jake and Sara’s children should be born and raised. He swept away his thoughts of all the hardships the year had brought, reined his horse and rode south away from the house.
Mirisa felt as though she was being pulled into another time and couldn’t stop it. She climbed out of bed and pulled her journal off the shelf and decided if she couldn’t sleep then she would catch up on her journal. She turned to the last entry then she went back to the beginning. Her grandmother had given her the journal only a year before life changed but the difference in her writing and her feelings were like night and day. This was her 16th year and one in which she would come out in society and yet here she was alone in this strange house. Her numerous trips into town revealed few young men her age and though everyone was polite there was an unspoken whisper as she passed. She picked up her pen but words just didn’t seem to want to come so she decided to write down the night’s dream with as much detail as she could remember. She wrote his name slowly ‘Conrad’ as she tried to bring his image into her mind but it remained elusive. Conrad sat on the windowsill watching her as she would go back and add in little words as details came back to her. He found her mind to not only be interesting but blossoming as fast as her beauty.
She lost all track of time until Mrs. Chauvin knocked on her door then entered with a tray of tea and breakfast scones placing them on the small table in front of the fireplace. “I hope you are feeling better.”
“The elixir seems to be ridding me of the cold but I feel restless.”
“Then maybe it is time for a trip into town. I think a visit to the seamstress will brighten your spirits. I was hoping more of your personal things would follow but you do have an allowance that should suffice a little splurging.”
“Why would I need new dresses when no one inquires of me?”
“Well, Mr. Lanfear will be returning for the holidays and I am sure he will want to introduce you properly. Though our trips into town have at least allowed you to be comfortable with the town’s people, you will need a large wardrobe for the season for the balls are very elegant.”
“I still don’t understand why my father would send me away from everyone when my grandmother’s home was a more practical choice.”
“I am sure your father had his reasons.” She picked up the elixir and handed it to Mirisa. “I think maybe you need to stay to your rooms for you seem to be overly tired probably from the coughing. I will have your lunch brought up.” She closed the door as she left.
Mirisa put down her journal and moved over to the table pouring a cup of steaming tea. The smell was so comforting and her mind began to wander back to the dream when she seemed to be standing alone in a strange room filled with hundreds of books.
… listening to the wind howl as the storm moved up the river. The storms had held off long enough that they were able to bring in most of the crops but there were signs of a brutal winter coming from the northwest. She stood in the doorway sipping on the cup of warm milk and rubbing her stomach. Dr. Ross thought the baby would arrive in the spring but so far she didn’t look to be bearing a child. She was having trouble sleeping at night and was more prone to crying. Jake would frequently walk up behind her, wrap her arms around her waist and bend over and talk softly in her ear. She loved him so much.
Sara sometimes felt so alone especially in the middle of the night when she roamed the house. Simone’ came up behind her and wrapped around her feet mewing for some of the milk she had left in the kettle. She reached down and picked him up letting him drink out of her cup. “Simone’ always the perfect friend and always there when I need company.” He finished the milk and then jumped down walking back to the large hearth where he curled up on the warm bricks. She wondered why he was the only animal ever allowed to roam the house.
Sara put up her cup and returned to the warmth of her husband and bed. Jake pulled her closer to him. “You really need to try to sleep at night.”
Mirisa jumped when Simone’ rubbed up against her. It felt like someone was telling a story but how could Simone' be both there and here. Were these dreams solely her imagination, was it her way of dealing with the loneliness or maybe she had her mother’s illness. Maybe she was sent away because her father thought she was crazy like her mother. She closed the journal for she didn’t want to think anymore.
THE TRIP into town exhausted her but at least she had a new wardrobe that was more grown up then anything she had ever worn. The seamstress was surprised when Mirisa told her that she wanted her gowns slim and comfortable like her day dresses but elegant with very few petticoats. They spent hours designing and picking out material before she headed to the Chemist Shop. She splurged on soaps and oils then bought some new ink for her pen before she shopped for the holidays. As they were heading to the carriage, Mirisa stopped at the Confectioner’s Store and asked if she could make a purchase. Mrs. Chauvin nodded as she put on her gloves and Mirisa stepped into the most delectable smelling little shop. The cases should have been filled with confectioners of every flavor and color but the selection seemed to be very unusual. A little woman shuffled out from behind the curtain carrying a pan of sugar treats and made her way over to Mirisa.
“What shall it be?”
Mirisa smiled and asked for a pound of hard candy in different flavors. She watched the woman slowly fill a little bag made out of folded newsprint. “Do you have any taffy?”
The woman shook her head and handed over the bag. “It’s lean round here because of the war you know. We used to get candy from New Orleans but now most has to be made in the shop. That will be one cent.” Mirisa opened her purse and handed her a penny then thanked her before leaving. She had been sequestered for way too long and she wondered how deeply this war would affect her life and her future.
As they were leaving, Mrs. Chauvin instructed the carriage to pull in front of the large church. She got out carrying the basket of flowers that she had brought from the plantation inviting Mirisa to join her. They walked through the small iron gate into a very well manicured cemetery. She weaved through the headstones before stopping at a small grouping of stones putting her basket on the ground as she took out her handkerchief and dusted off the stones. Mirisa wandered away to give her privacy. It was a very nice cemetery with large statutes and small stones.
She read them wondering who these people were and why they died. Her family cemetery had only two graves that were two of her brothers who died from an epidemic. It was before she was born so she never really had a personal attachment to them or the loss of them. She was about ten rows beyond the gate when she saw her family name on a few stones. The name was spelled different or maybe it was the way it was carved on the sandstone. She walked up and down the row and found generations of people who were related to the Eppes name and then she found the headstone of her grandmother. She took in her breath because her father had never talked about her except she died when he was a baby leaving him to be raised by his grandmother, Lattie Epps. She walked further down and found the headstone of Lattie “Little Flower” Epps, concubine of Edgar Epps, died 1839. Mirisa knelt down and ran her fingers over the faded stone as her heart sank. This was her father’s home; this was why he had sent her to Natchez. The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks dropping on her arm as she struggled to connect with this discovery.
“My, my my child you must not cry for the departed for they are merely in another place.”
>
Mirisa looked up at the elderly lady standing behind the headstone. She was small, white hair braided down her back and dressed in what could only be described as clothing that had long sense gone out of style. She was leaning on a cane that was carved with strange markings and animals.
“I never knew her though my father kept a small portrait of her in his office. I don’t know anything really about his life.”
“I see. So you are crying for yourself?” The woman walked closer as Mirisa stood.
“I am crying because there is so much I don’t know, there is so much I don’t understand but mostly I am lonely.”
“Tisk, tisk. One must never feel sorry for oneself for it is a fruitless emotion.” She smiled as she placed her hand on Mirisa’s arm. “Will you walk me into the church? I am more tired then I realized.” Mirisa looked around for Mrs. Chauvin but she was in conversation with the Pastor. Mirisa nodded then began walking to the church door allowing the woman to steady herself. They stepped into the rectory where Mirisa helped her to the closest bench then she turned around looking at the church.
“There along the wall is the book of baptisms. It is a very old book so handle it carefully.” She pointed and Mirisa watched as her hand shook but the woman didn’t seem to notice. “Bring it here to me, please.”
Mirisa looked at the books then slid out one bringing it over to the bench and sitting next to the woman.
“Turn to page 12 and go down the list.” Mirisa did as she was told and stopped when she came to the family name. “That was the date your grandmother was baptized. It was a beautiful spring day and the church was filled with so many friends. She was an only child but that is only because her father died shortly before her birth. A beautiful baby that one was. She had her mother’s looks but her father’s coloring so fair and beautiful green eyes.”
The Visitor 1862 Page 3