Forever in Love (Book One of the Armstrong Series)

by Rita Hestand

  "Yes, of course, they do. In another country, with different customs and beliefs. And she has her place, it's just not here." He hung his head then looked up at him and smiled. "Good. Glad we cleared that up. Now, do not make plans for the 'morrow', as I want to take you about and let you see what has been done to the land. You must acquaint yourself with every aspect of this place if you are going to take it over for me. I want you to learn everything. It will take some time, but thankfully, we have plenty of that."

  "Why do you insist on stepping down Father? You are still healthy and not so very old." Joe asked, his frown sincere. "And why can't we wait on Sam so he can learn too?"

  George's frown twisted in mild anger. "I am not stepping down. Not yet. However, when I die, I want to know that I have a son that can take care of it, as I would. That's you. I have every faith in you, my son. However, I must train you for the job ahead of you. Therefore, we will work together, and one day, when I'm no longer able, you will take it over for me. You see, you aren't the only person that has changed. This country was torn apart literally, and to put it back together we must all learn from our mistakes. It will take some doing to turn a real profit these days."

  Joe did frown now. "And what of Sam?"

  "Sam, Sam. Why do you worry over your brother? He is carefree and frivolous. I've taken care that he will get his equal share. He is a man. He can take care of himself, I've taught him that. I will provide for him in my will."

  "You offer me the management of this land, you offer him nothing. You show no confidence in him. How can he face you without anger, Father? You must be fair. For both our sakes. For all our sakes. Your attitude alone throws a gap between us. I do not wish to fight my brother over this. I've fought enough."

  His father got up from the table and went to stand in front of him. It was the way he carried himself, the way his face contorted into anger, the way his impatience glared. At one time, he was an overbearing Father, now; he was an old overbearing Father. However, Joe couldn't allow him to realize how intimidated he could be. For once, he had to stand on his feet and face his Father.

  "I would offer Sam the same, but he doesn't have the backbone and the tolerance for cruelties of life. It isn't his fault; he's more like his mother. The cotton grown on this plantation has to be picked by slaves. Sam doesn't believe in slavery. He thinks everyone should be equal. He thinks I should pay the slaves for their work. Well I do, in a way, but Sam wouldn't think it enough. Can you imagine the profits if I did? There would be none. When this war broke out, the north claimed they would free the slaves, thanks to Lincoln. Without slaves, the cotton wouldn't get picked in time to ship to the north. That is fact. A fact that has been purposely overlooked by the north. The south knew its responsibilities and swore to uphold slavery so the work could get done. In the long run, it benefited both sides. But their treatment of the black people has shown that what they said and what was in their hearts were two different things."

  "I thought you said you set them free…"

  "I did. But you see, they've been here so long, they were afraid to leave. Afraid of what the world would do to them for being free. It was the north that set them free, not the south. However, the north took no interest in them after they gathered a few to fight for them. Folks around here hadn't changed their minds about them. It's as if they think they don't deserve the freedom, itself. Therefore, I still take care of them. As long as they give me a day's work, that's fine with me."

  "Take care of them right father. By barely paying them and giving them shacks to live in?" Joe couldn't stop his voice from rising.

  "Now see here, I give them a home, a job and my protection. They don't ask for more. They don't need any more than that. Our Negroes know their place."

  Joe started to protest further, but caught himself. "Of course. You have helped them. And also so it could line your pockets with that profit, father."

  "You dare to speak to me like that! Listen to me Joseph. Your brother fought for the south because I expected him to. Not because his heart was in it. He did it for me, I respect him for that. He's not as stubborn and strong willed as you. But you refused. Some around here didn't take kindly to you fighting for the north. You have your right to your beliefs Joseph. Actually, I applaud them. However, this land cannot be harvested without the slaves. You fought for the north and although I wasn't pleased about it, I saw both my sons as patriots of this country. Despite our differences, we are of like minds. You two are like night and day, you and Sam. You might be twins. You might be closer than most, but you are not alike. Yet, you sound very much like him now. How can that be? When did you soften so?" George went to his desk to get a cigar and came back. "Look son" He twisted the cigar between his fingers, "with you I have a strong right arm, confident, capable. With him, I have a weak Left arm, who suffers for the people. I love Sam, and I will leave him equal money when I die. But he will never run this place…." His father shouted. "Do you understand me? It's my decision and I've made it."

  His father's face had reddened to a dangerous level and his voice had risen to the roof.

  "You've never been fair, you realize that don't you?" Joe found his anger.

  "You've never spoken to me like this Joseph. This war has changed you in ways I hadn't imagined. Be careful. Being fair is no way to run a place this size. The oldest son is usually the one that inherits, and Joseph you are the oldest."

  "Do you love Sam at all, father?" Joe couldn't stop his question from slipping from his lips.

  The old man winced, and then stared at Joe. "Love him!" He shouted. "Love has nothing to do with what we are talking about. Of course, I love him. How dare you question that? It is his very weaknesses I love the most. He believes in equality of people. He believes in being fair. So do I to an extent. However, a businessman has to be strong in his convictions. I was proud when he fought for the south. He listened to me, for once. But I fear it didn't change his opinions. It took me half the war to get over the fact that you joined the union army. And there are some that will give you hell for it, so be ready. Even though neither of you believe in slavery, slaves are a necessity to our success. The entire south knows this. Nothing has changed that, not even the war. This war has ravaged more than just lives, but the hearts of people. And suddenly you come home and sound just like Sam. He's a dreamer. Life is not fair, Joseph. It never has been. Given time, he will accept his place in life, just as you will. Not all were born to lead son. As for the slaves, I have freed each one that puts in a lifetime of service to me. In the meantime, I will continue to feed them, house them and take care of them when they are sick. You know as well as I that I love Ole Jen" He paused when Joe didn't seem to be listening. His eyes rolled. His admission stymied him for a moment. "She's been like a mother to you boys. She fed you from her own breasts. How could I not love her for that? She was the first one to get her papers saying she was a free woman. But she'd never leave here. She's too smart for that. And in her fashion she loves us."

  Joe didn't appear to be paying any attention to that remark. "Father, the war is over. They are free. Whether you give them their freedom or not. They are already free by Mr. Lincoln. Don't you see? He died freeing them. They've chosen to stay with you. They no longer have to remain here. What you have are faithful employees. And you must look at them as such."

  "I realize some of them are. Others are just too scared to leave, and that's the truth. Where would they go? What would they do? They know farm life. Unfortunately that's about all they know, or want to at this point."

  "War changes a lot of things, Father. Up north a lot of the Negroes are well educated.""

  "A moot point. Have you not considered what would have happened to them if I suddenly let them go? They don't know how to take care of themselves. They are a helpless people. We've contributed to that helplessness. By making slaves of them, we have taken away the drive to think for themselves. Therefore, we are partly responsible for them. Perhaps that is our doing, if so; it is our r
esponsibility to take care of them. And I will uphold my responsibility."

  "You make it all sound so caring. But there are other plantation owners who have beaten them, and mistreated them, even raped them. They don't deserve that."

  "Agreed they don't, but I cannot change the world, Joe."

  It was at that moment that Joe realized he would have to change his ways. He would have to exude confidence in himself and project a positive attitude. He still would not change his views; he would merely keep them quiet.

  His true objective was Melanie, not his father or the plantation.

  "I must go…" Joe said, not wanting to say too much to cause suspicion.

  "Invite Melanie for supper. I'll tell Ole Jen." His father instructed.

  "Thank you, I will…and father…In case I haven't said it, it's good to be home."

  "It's good to have you home, son." George said in a whispered voice.

  Joe went to the barn and found Slim, the blacksmith working. "Why Slim, you look well."

  Slim glanced at him but didn't greet him. He was doing the same job he'd always done, and seemed content to do so.

  "Don't you recognize me, it's Joseph?"

  Slim nodded slowly, but he didn't come up to him and shake his hand, he merely nodded.

  "Yes sir, I seen you. You come back from the war. It's good that you are back."

  "Yes thank you. How have things been here?" Joe asked.

  Slim eyed him carefully. "You never used to talk to me, suh. Only, why you actin' as though we are friends now?"

  "Well, we aren't enemies, are we?" Joe smiled.

  "I reckon not. What can I do for you, Mr. Joe?" Slim's voice was indulging.

  That put Joe in his place.

  "I need a carriage. I'm going to pick Miss Melanie up and go into town. Is there anything you need?" Joe asked.

  "Need? If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were Sam. But…no, I don't need nothin'." Slim replied. "Thank you just the same."

  Joe didn't know exactly how to handle his relationships here any longer. He supposed he'd been gone too long. Slim had been Sam's friend long ago.

  Things would never be the same again until Joe could make everyone here understand how much he'd grown as a person during the war. How much he'd learned, and suffered.

  He hoped in the long run he could do an even better job of running things here, than his father. That would be some accomplishment.

  Chapter Five

  Melanie sat in a big rocking chair on her parent's front porch. The constant sound it made relaxed her. She closed her eyes and envisioned Joe kissing her once more and smiled. When she opened her eyes, she saw her mother staring at her.

  The veranda stretched around the entire front end of the old white plantation house. Beautiful white columns supported the porch. Melanie loved sitting out and looking over the well kept yards. She gazed out at the pecan and oak trees dotting their land and the one magnificent willow that overshadowed the creek just beyond the yard. The birds were chirping loudly in the treetops. Her family dog, Swifty a beautiful collie, darted here and there chasing a rabbit. And her mother sat beside her, with a scowl on her face, trying to talk her daughter into not marrying Joe Armstrong.

  Melanie was pulled between her mother's wishes and her heart's desire. However, the extreme change in Joe made her lean toward him instead of her mother. He was the only man she'd ever loved, and not to marry him would mean instant sorrow for her.

  Although the Armstrong's lineage went way back, it would never be as timeworn as the Hamilton name. Minerva Hamilton, her mother, was not happy with her daughter's sudden decision to marry within the month. Even though Melanie understood her loneliness, with her brothers gone to war, she couldn't sacrifice her own happiness for her mother.

  She'd waited patiently for Joe to come home, and now he was home, and getting married right away seemed the only right thing to do, she loved him so.

  Melanie was expecting Joe any moment. In her lap were the letters she'd received from Joe during the war. There were only a handful, but every one of them was signed….Forever in Love. She kept those words dear to her heart.

  She clutched the letters to her breast as her mother stared at her.

  "What are you frowning at, mother?"

  "You, mooning over those letter all these years. And the way you acted when you came home last night. He's only a man, Melanie, not a God."

  Their eyes locked in instant war.

  "I love him mother. I always have. You know that. I've been engaged forever. Now…I love him even more so. He's changed a lot. Like a new man. Exciting. You'll see."

  "You are a child. How would you know of love?" Her mother huffed. She spread her hands over her stomach, smoothing the material. "Besides, you are a lady of breeding. You must never moon over a man, any man. It isn't proper."

  "I can't help what I feel Mother. And I'm certainly not ashamed of it. I've waited a long time for this; I won't have you ruining it. He's changed and for the better. When he holds me, I lose my head. When he kisses me, I want to lose my virginity." She laughed playfully.

  Her mother gasped. "Melanie! See what he brings out in you, child?"

  "Mother, he didn't do that. I did. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm certainly not a child any longer. Why, you should already have grandchildren at your feet. Please, this is a beautiful morning and I so want to enjoy it with you. After all, when I'm married we won't be sitting out here together as much."

  "Are you moving to his father's house?" Her mother sounded worried.

  "We haven't talked about where we will live yet."

  "Maybe you should." The way her mother threw her knitting down and stared at it had Melanie wanting to comfort her.

  "I'll talk to him today about it, if you like. All I'm saying is when a man kisses a woman like that, it leaves no doubt as to how he really feels about you," Melanie said with a sigh.

  "And how is that?" Her mother snapped.

  It was hard to feel so happy when her mother was so upset about the whole thing. She wished she could make them both happy, because she dearly loved her mother and Joe. "I feel consumed with a fire. A fire I want only him to put out. I love him endlessly mother, why can't you accept it? I've been faithful and true to him, despite your efforts to make me break my promise to him. I've waited so long for him to come home, and now he's here. I don't want to waste another minute. I want to be his wife. But I will always be your daughter."

  Her mother's face turned sad, but she said nothing for a while.

  "Perhaps I'm leery because of this Carmen he used to be so fond of. What has happened to that relationship? Or do you even know?" Her mother took up her knitting once more.

  "We've talked about that. He's over her completely. He said the war made him realize what he really wanted from life. And I'm a big part of what he wants, Mother. Not Carmen. He's a grown man now, mother, not a boy. I can tell the differences."

  Her mother leaned back in the other rocking chair, studying her again.

  "And you believe him?" She glanced at her with disgust.

  "Yes, I do."

  There was censure in her mother's tone, but Melanie chose to ignore it. She was just too happy today. She found a perverse pleasure in knowing her mother was oh so wrong about Joe.

  She'd soon see the difference herself.

  A cloud of dust told her that Joe was coming down the lane to fetch her. Swifty darted out to greet him, wagging his tail and following along beside him. Joe called out to the dog and waved at Melanie. She eagerly waited until he drew near, then she ran to greet him, unhindered by shyness.

  She threw her arms around him and he kissed her once more finding a heaven all their own.

  The kiss was long and inviting, and Joe acted as if he didn't want to let go of her. When he pulled away, he looked deep into her eyes.

  "You take my breath away." She whispered. "You've become the man I've always wanted…I've heard that the war is good for men, now I believe it."r />
  Joe's eyes sank to the fullness of her breast. Her dress like most of her others framed her beautifully. But oh, the temptation the dress created.

  "My, my if it isn't Joseph Armstrong." Her mother announced loudly, her sarcasm slurring her words. Melanie frowned at her.

  "You know Mrs. Hamilton, I've sensed through the years that you just don't like me." Joe said good-naturedly, holding on to Melanie all the while as they walked toward the porch.

  "There are others I'd rather see my daughter engaged to." She huffed not bothering to hide her animosity.

  "Mrs. Hamilton, you're looking lovely this morning." Joe came up the porch and took her hand. He kissed the blotched wrinkled skin of her hand and smiled at her. "And believe me, given time, you'll get used to me."

  Swifty came and laid between the rockers on the porch, resting from his morning exercise.

  "So you are going through with the nuptials?" Her mother inquired, the only sign of animosity was in her light blue eyes.

  "Yes, we are, as soon as possible…" Joe smiled at her.

  "What's the rush?" She asked, her brows knitting.

  Joe nearly laughed. "You'll pardon me, Mrs. Hamilton but the war was long and tedious. Then being shanghaied on that pirate ship…well, coming home was like breathing fresh air for the first time. We should have been married before I left. I've waited a long time for this…So has Melanie." He said as gallantly as possible. "She could have found another while I was gone. She didn't. She remained true to me. And I love her even more for doing so. I promise you I will take great care with her, for the rest of my life."

  "Are you sure you are ready for such a step, young man?" Her mother questioned.

  "Mother," Melanie burst through the conversation, her face a wad of mixed emotions. "We've discussed this already this morning. Joe and I are going into town so I can buy some material for my dress. I told you Ole Jen was going to design it for me. She's a wonderful seamstress. Would you like to come along?"

  "I have a seamstress in town; if you want to drop the material off to her, I'm sure she'd make the best of dresses for you to wear. I'm sure you know her, Mrs. Evers at the end of Main Street."