Heir of Hope: Return to Ironwood Plantation (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 2)

by Stephenia H. McGee

  My stomach rumbled, but I ignored its complaints as I pulled up to Mr. Cornwall’s office. The lady at the front desk flashed a friendly smile when I came through the door. “He’s already left for the evening, but I’ll give the key to him for you.”

  “Thanks.” I turned to leave. “Oh, do you know if there’s a motel where I can stay while this is worked out?”

  “Well, closest thing around here’s going to be over in West Point or Columbus. It’ll take you about thirty minutes or so down Highway Forty-Nine.”

  “Oh, okay. Thank you….” I paused. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever actually asked your name.”

  “I’m Dee Bosworth. Nice to meet you, Emily.” Her smile lit up her honey-colored eyes.

  “You, too. I’m sure I’ll probably see you again tomorrow.” I dreaded having to drive thirty minutes to another town. I was getting tired of the car. My fingers had just brushed the doorknob when Dee spoke again.

  “Emily?”

  I turned. She reminded me of a fictional kindly grandmother, pleasantly plump and all smiles.

  “If you don’t want to drive all the way to Columbus tonight, you could always take the room in my house.”

  I stared at her a moment. My unusual mood of loneliness, no doubt fueled by stress and the unexpected desire for family, caused me to halfway-consider such an offer from a stranger. She seemed to sense my hesitation.

  “My husband, bless his soul, and I used to rent out the guest rooms at our house. He had hopes of one day opening a bed and breakfast. There ain’t much need for that type of thing around here, though. But, we did rent out a room a few times to guests passing through and to a couple that came into town to visit family for a few days once. It’s been so long since anyone’s used it, I thought it might be nice to have a guest for a little while. Includes breakfast and homemade dinner.” She grinned. “Although I can’t attest to being the best of cooks.”

  A room that came with homemade meals? It sounded too good to be true. I cocked my head. “What’s the price?”

  “Well, let’s see. Buford said you’d probably be around for about a week or two.”

  I actually planned on much less time, but I nodded.

  “How about a hundred a week? Is that too much?”

  I gaped at her. A hundred would barely cover one night at the Best Western and a drive-through lunch. For that kind of savings, I decided to take my chances. What were the odds this smiling grandma would axe me in my sleep? “That sounds great, actually. Thanks.”

  “No problem, dear. It’s closing time, so if you’ll just give me a second to shut down the computer, you can follow me to the house.”

  “Okay.” Closing time had probably come and gone a while ago, and she’d just had to wait on me to come back with the keys. I plopped down in the chair I’d sat in earlier and picked up the same magazine, but my mind was filled with too many thoughts to concentrate on the pages. Things were very different down here. Nearly everyone I’d met seemed kind and actually looked at me during conversations. How could there be such vast differences? I only lived a few states to the north. It wasn’t as if I’d traveled to another country.

  Dee powered down her computer and then bustled into Buford’s office, shuffling papers and turning off lights. “Well, are you ready to go?” she asked when she stepped out a few seconds later.

  “Sure.” I scooped up my purse and followed her through the door.

  After she locked up, she pointed down the road. “It’s not too far up this way. Just follow me.”

  I obliged, and we wound our way through the tiny town and past the driveway into Ironwood. Maybe I could hint around and see if Dee knew anything about the old plantation name.

  A little farther from Adela’s house, we came into a residential area with several beautiful houses lining the road sporting wide porches, columns, and balconies, just like the houses in A Time To Kill. Dee turned on her blinker, and I followed her into the driveway. After turning off the car, I stepped around to the trunk and grabbed my suitcase. I turned to look up at my new accommodations, impressed by the two-story house that shined with fresh-looking white paint and an inviting front porch curving around one side. Lacy curtains hung in floor-length windows. Rocking chairs, ferns, and a porch swing completed the picturesque setting. I turned to see Dee looking at me. I smiled. “This is very nice.”

  “Thanks, dear. My Douglas worked hard to restore this house.”

  A touch of sadness rested on her features. I followed her past the heady scent of gardenias growing along the bottom of the porch and up the brick steps. She unlocked one of the massive mahogany doors and we stepped into a beautiful entryway.

  “Wow,” I said. “This really would make a great B and B.”

  Dee chuckled. Rich wood floors matched the front doors, with a formal-looking sitting area to my right, a dining area to my left, and a large staircase reaching up in front of me. The banister matched the deep color of the floors, but the spindles and the steps were a lighter, blondish-colored wood. Dee started up the staircase and gestured for me to follow.

  At the top of the stairs, a long hallway ran the length of the house. Dee took a right turn, and we passed an open door to a small bathroom, then stopped at the next door on the right. She opened the door to the guest room, allowing me to pass inside.

  A hundred a week for this? An enormous canopy bed stood against one wall, directly across from a brick fireplace. The wood floors were covered by large, green rugs. On the side wall stood a small writing desk and chair. I dropped my suitcase at the foot of the bed and walked through the narrow double doors leading to the bathroom. Not only did it have a large tile shower, but there was also a huge soaking tub. I stared at it, thinking how good a long, hot soak was going to feel. How had I gotten so lucky?

  I stepped out of the bathroom and noticed Dee smiling at me. “So? Do you like it?”

  “Yes. It’s nice, thank you.”

  Instead of replying, she turned to two large French doors and flung them open. I followed her out onto the balcony. “It’s getting too dark to see much now, but in the morning you’ll be able to see the yard and the gardens. It’s really quite lovely.” We walked back inside. “I’m going to head to the kitchen and start on supper. Why don’t you get settled and come down in a bit?”

  When she left, I plopped down on the huge bed, realizing the potential of Adela’s house. It was much bigger than Dee’s, though not nearly this nice. It could be, though, if someone fixed it up a little. Too bad I didn’t have the time or the money to do it. It sure would be something. I hopped off the bed, hung my clothes in the small closet, and put my other things away in a massive antique dresser. Feeling satisfied I was sufficiently settled in my temporary home, I gathered my things for a hot shower.

  After enjoying the water for as long as I dared, I dried off with a thick white towel and twisted my long hair up into another. I grabbed some sweats out of the drawer. Was it okay to eat in pajamas, or should I put something nice on? In a place like this, it might not be a good idea to look too sloppy. I tossed the sweats back in the drawer and pulled on jeans and a tee-shirt, but didn’t bother trying to dry my hair. I twisted it into a bun at the back of my head, tugged on my shoes and bounded down the stairs. Something sure smelled good….

  Suddenly, I stepped wrong, putting only half my foot securely on the stair, and stumbled forward, just barely catching myself before I would have tumbled headlong onto the floor. I caught the banister and righted myself, breathing a sigh of relief no one had seen….

  I looked up into the startled eyes of a man. An incredibly attractive one. He stood at the bottom of the staircase, looking at me. He wasn’t that tall, probably just under six feet, with square shoulders and muscled arms coming from his gray tee-shirt. I couldn’t help but admire his rugged features and the touch of dark shadow starting to form on his firm jawline. His dark brown hair fell into the most strikingly blue eyes I’d ever seen. We stared at each other for a moment, b
ecause apparently I’d forgotten how to speak English.

  “Are you okay, Ma’am?” I cringed at the old-lady term, but his concern sounded sincere. My hand went to my slicked-back, wet hair. I was a mess. No makeup, either.

  A small smile slid onto his lips, and my pulse quickened. Great. Now I was getting flustered. I clenched my teeth. What difference did it make what I looked like? I didn’t even know this man. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “I’m sorry you stumbled.”

  I brushed at my pants and hoped my face didn’t show the heat I felt creeping up my neck. I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m the klutz, so I should be the one apologizing.”

  “Okay, so then, where is it?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your apology.”

  My eyebrows shot up. What audacity. “I was just going….” I stopped. Humor lit his cobalt eyes, and he smirked at me. The heat in my cheeks fanned into flame, and I found myself laughing. “You’re right. I’m quite sorry, Sir, for my complete lack of balance and the disturbance it caused to your day.”

  He chuckled. “Name’s Luke Hamilton. Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand. I stepped down to the bottom stair and took it, feeling the rough calluses along his palms. Something tingled in me, but I ignored it. I pumped once and then slid my fingers from his grasp.

  “I’m Emily Burns. I’m staying with Dee for a few days.”

  Curiosity pulled at his eyebrows, but he didn’t ask for further information, and I didn’t give it. Walk away! My feet defied my command. We stood there awkwardly for a moment.

  “Well, I think I need to find Dee,” I said, finally stepping around him.

  “Okay. See you later.” He walked up the steps, a tool belt flopping at his side. I turned toward the dining area, figuring the kitchen would be close. I followed my nose down a small hallway between the dining room and the stairs and through an open doorway into a large, modern kitchen to find Dee stirring something on the stove.

  “I see you’ve met Luke,” she said without turning to look at me.

  “Um…yes.” I stepped across the brick floor and stood beside her. “Who is he?”

  “The handyman. Good man, that one. He owns the hardware store in town, but he’s also the best fixer anywhere around. He’s always over here tinkering with something or other. Old houses need a lot of work.” She stirred the ingredients in the stockpot with a wooden spoon. The aroma tickled my senses, and my stomach rumbled in response.

  “What’re you making? It smells wonderful.”

  “Just some homemade soup. I chop up whatever’s ripe in the garden and throw it in the pot. I make it in big batches and then freeze it. It’s handy to pull out on nights like this. Nothing fancy, but filling.”

  She dipped the ladle into the steaming pot and filled two bowls. We sat at a small table in the kitchen, which felt homey and totally out of my element, nothing like my little card table shoved in the corner of my apartment’s kitchenette. I was just about to suck in a spoonful of soup when Dee corrected me.

  “Let’s say the blessing first.” She gave me her grandmotherly smile. I put the spoon back in the bowl and bowed my head.

  “Heavenly Father, we thank you for the day you have given. Thank you for the kindness of your hand and for the food you have provided. Father, thank you for this young lady. I pray your protection over her as she steps into this journey. I pray she will feel your hand and turn to you when the time comes. Bless her time here, and may your will be revealed. Amen.”

  Um, yeah. So much for something like, “Thank you for the food. Amen.” I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about what she’d just asked God to do. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. I stared at Dee, wondering what I should say. She just smiled at me.

  “Eat up, dear.”

  I let it slide. I didn’t want to get into any religious conversations, anyway. I sipped the soup. “This is really good.”

  “Thank you. What did you think about Adela’s house? Did you find anything interesting?”

  I hesitated. What a weird thing to ask. Did she know about the diary I had stashed in my suitcase and slid under the bed? “I found the house very interesting, yes.”

  She didn’t respond. Since she’d brought it up, now was probably a good time to dig a little. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “Oh, sure. That house has been here forever. It used to be a plantation. The only reason they didn’t burn it during the war was because the Union troops used the third floor as a lookout. They kept some of the officers there. The Harper family lived there for a long time.”

  I stirred my soup, trying not to look too interested. “A plantation, huh? I don’t know much about southern history, but don’t they always name plantations? Like in Gone with the Wind?”

  She laughed. “Not everything is like Gone with the Wind. But, I’m sure you’ll find that out soon enough.”

  I was about to ask what she meant by that, but she kept talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt. “Yes, they did have a name for it. It hasn’t been called by its plantation name in a long time, though.”

  She continued eating. I wasn’t sure how to take this woman. It was as if she knew some secret but wasn’t telling me. We ate in silence for a few minutes, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Do you remember what they used to call it?”

  A slight smile played at the corner of her lips, but she didn’t look up from her soup. “Of course. They called it Ironwood.”

  My heart fluttered. The slave auction had happened in Oakville.

  “My, something sure smells good in here.”

  I turned to see the man from the stairwell standing directly behind me.

  “Come on, Luke. Let me get you a bowl.” Dee got up from the table and headed to the stove without waiting for a reply.

  Luke settled into the chair next to me. I flashed a halfhearted smile, then turned back to my dinner. I could still feel his eyes on me. When I finally looked at him he grinned, revealing white, although slightly crooked teeth, one minor flaw on an otherwise perfect face. I kind of liked that. It seemed to fit well with his tanned skin, calloused hands, and his muscled…I stopped myself and turned my thoughts to my food.

  Dee put a large bowl in front of Luke before returning to her seat. He picked up his spoon and filled it, but paused before it reached his lips. “Did you already say grace?”

  “Yes,” Dee and I said at the same time.

  Luke’s brows pulled together. “Okay, then.” He winked at Dee. “I sure love your homemade soup.”

  “Any time, dear. How much do I owe you for that leaky pipe?”

  He shoveled in a mouthful. “Two bowls of soup should cover it.”

  Dee laughed. “It’s a deal.”

  I listened to Luke answer Dee’s questions about his day, enjoying the cadence of his voice. It almost felt like sitting at dinner with a real family, even though we weren’t related. The laid-back feel had me wondering what it would be like to live somewhere like this. My thoughts tumbled to a stop. They were both looking at me. My brain scrambled for a reason. When Luke cocked his head, I figured he must have asked me something. I cleared my throat. “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “I asked where you were from.”

  “New Jersey.”

  “Well, that explains the accent, then.”

  I laughed. “What accent? You’re the one with an accent.”

  “Accent is in the eye of the beholder, I guess.” His eyes twinkled. “Just like beauty.”

  I felt my cheeks growing red. I stood, scooping up my empty bowl. “Dee, what should I do with this?”

  “Just put it in the sink, dear. I’ll get it in a minute.”

  I followed her instructions, placing my bowl and the rest of the glass of sweet tea I couldn’t stomach in the sink, then returned to my hostess and her guest. “If you don’t mind, I’ve had a long day. I think I’ll call it a night.”

  “Of course. If you need anything, my room’s at the other end of th
e hall. Breakfast is at seven-thirty.”

  Seven-thirty? On a Saturday? I opened my mouth to comment but thought better of it. I wasn’t going to dare say anything about what time she was cooking me free breakfast. I looked at Luke. “It was nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. I’ll see you soon.”

  What did he mean? Would he be fixing stuff here in the morning, too? I tried not to let myself hope he would. What was up with that? I pushed the ridiculous thought aside and gave him a genuine smile, then hurried to my room, anxious for a long, hot soak to relax my tense muscles and a good night’s sleep.

  Back upstairs, I made a beeline for the bathroom and slipped out of my jeans. As I dropped them to the floor, something hit with a hard thunk. I picked them up and felt something heavy in my pocket. I wrapped my fingers around the brooch I’d taken from the trunk back at Adela’s house. I turned it over in my hand. The delicate swirled pattern held several small, milky white opals cut and set to form miniature flowers. It might be tarnished, but with a little cleaning it would be a beautiful piece. I watched the hot water cascading into the tub, contemplating what I should do with the brooch. Most likely, no one would know it existed. I could just stash it with the diary and put them both back later. I hurried from the bathroom in my underwear, double-checked that the door was locked, and slid my suitcase from under the bed. I unwrapped the diary from one of my shirts, a long-sleeve I now knew I wasn’t going to need, and wrapped the brooch inside with it. I placed them both back under the bed and went to enjoy my bath, ignoring the nagging feeling of guilt.

  The alarm clock screeched for the third time, and I silenced it with a not-so-gentle slap. Too early. I stretched under the quilted blankets and let myself enjoy the streaming sunshine and twittering birds before I finally glanced at the clock.

  Eight minutes to breakfast.

  I’m fairly low-maintenance, but even I would need every second to make it down in time. I scrambled out from under the comforting softness and threw on some jeans, a fitted tee and my sneakers and called it good. I ran a brush through my tangled hair and pulled it into a low ponytail. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to put on some mascara and a bit of blush, just in case I ran into Luke again. After brushing my teeth, I darted out the door and down the steps precisely on time.