Jonathan stood and extended his hand. “I’m Jonathan Parker, and this is Grace Cunningham.”
“How do you do,” the man shook his hand. “I’m Bob Templeton, and this is my wife, Barbara.”
Grace spoke to her, and they sat back down.
“We just bought a thousand-acre place right outside of Gordo,” Mr. Templeton said, looking at Jonathan.
“Yes sir. And do you plan to grow cotton?”
“I certainly do. The world is demanding cotton,” he said, quite emphatically. “The war reduced cotton production, and now farmers can’t supply it fast enough to meet the demand.”
“Where did you find your workers?” Jonathan asked with interest.
“Well, for this year, I hired hands just for the season. There are plenty of freed blacks looking for work, but they expect to be paid fairly.”
“Of course,” Jonathan agreed. “Miss Cunningham expects to do that.” He looked back at Grace.
“Oh yes,” she agreed.
“Yesterday, I found three Irishmen down at the docks who were looking for work. They’re packing up to come to Gordo next week.” He paused to drain his coffee cup. “Finding men to work the land isn’t a problem if you’re willing to pay the price.”
“Yes sir, I understand,” Jonathan said.
The couple stood up, preparing to leave. “It was nice meeting you,” the woman said to Grace.
“Thank you. And you, too.” She looked at the man. “I wish you good luck with your place at Gordo.”
Grace watched the couple leave the dining room and wondered what their life would be like. She turned back to Jonathan. “No one is being rude to this man because he speaks…” She hesitated, wondering if he would take offense.
“Because he doesn’t speak southern,” Jonathan supplied, grinning.
“Yes. Oh Jonathan, maybe in some areas people are beginning to breach the gap between North and South. We mustn’t believe that everyone is as terrible as Sonny.”
Jonathan shrugged. “I realize that, but remember this man is obviously a man with money, and money talks. It doesn’t seem fair to think of it that way, but it’s true.”
Grace touched his sleeve. “Well, we’re prepared to do a bit of talking ourselves, Jonathan. Remember half of what we found belongs to you.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “Grace, I don’t feel right to take it. You need it more than I do.”
“But you will take it. Otherwise, I have been dishonest in my dealings with you, and that isn’t right. We made a bargain, and I expect to keep it. Now, what do I need to buy with my half of the money?”
“I will check at the livery and buy two horses and two full sets of harness. Also, I’ll find out where I can buy a two-horse wagon. You can go to the store and buy some house supplies and whatever you need. You’ll need another hammer, an ax, at least four hoes, and pounds each of ten-penny and twentypenny nails. I expect you’ll want to have some work done on the buildings.”
“And the house needs repairs,” she added, thinking of what had to be done. For the first time, she could let her mind wander and not feel a whiplash of worry about how she would pay for it. The gold still seemed too good to be true, and she felt like pinching herself several times a day to be sure she was awake, not just dreaming.
“I’ll buy some coffee and sugar; we’ve been out of sugar for more than two years. The first bunch of soldiers took our last sack of sugar. I’ll get some salt and pepper and some spices, too. I hope to find some pretty cloth for Mother so she can make herself a new dress.”
“You should buy yourself some pretty clothes. And some shoes for both of you.”
She reached over to squeeze his hand. “You’ve been so kind and helpful. I could never thank you enough.”
“You already have,” he answered.
They sat staring into each other’s eyes. Again, Grace was certain that Jonathan would stay at Riverwood. She had even allowed herself to dream that they might marry.
“Grace,” Jonathan said seriously. “I have to say something to you now. Your father risked his life so that you and your mother could get a start with your land again. None of this belonged to me. I’m more than happy to help you and your mother. What I suggest is that you keep all the money except for two hundred dollars. That will get me back to Kentucky. I don’t know what kind of situation I will find when I get there, but I will be two hundred dollars richer than I expected to be.”
Grace stared at him, unwilling to believe that he would really leave. How could she persuade him to stay? What could she say? She dropped her gaze to her coffee cup, hoping he wouldn’t see the disappointment in her eyes and think it was over the money.
“We’ll discuss this later,” she said softly.
“We can, but there’s no way I will accept more than what I’ve offered. So, shall we be on our way?”
She looked up and nodded, forcing a smile. As her gaze met his, she wondered if the thought of saying good-bye was as painful to him as to her. There was something in the depths of his blue eyes that had not been there before. As she looked at him, she chose to believe it was sadness at the thought of leaving her.
Squaring her shoulders as they left the dining room, she decided not to accept what he had said as the last word. Somehow she would convince him to stay at Riverwood and help her.
They had decided to stay another day in Tuscaloosa to obtain most of the supplies she would need. For smaller items, she could always go into Whites Creek, but the thought of returning there did not appeal to her.
When Grace and Jonathan finally finished their shopping, she soared with joy and pride. Not only was she riding in a comfortable new wagon, but Jonathan had found her a sorrel mare, four years old. She was fourteen and a half hands high with a white blaze on her forehead and one white stocking on her right front leg. Grace named the mare Lucky for many reasons. Her father had lucked into the gold, buried it, and sent Jonathan into their lives with the good news. Even though she named her horse Lucky, Grace knew the real source of her blessings was God.
The other horse already had the name Banjo, in honor of its former owner. It was fifteen hands high, but together Banjo and Lucky made a matched pair. When Grace bought the horses and knew they were her own, she almost burst into tears. All her life she had wanted a good horse, and now she had two.
Grace and Jonathan stopped in at the livery before leaving town to speak with the owner, Marcus Sawyers. Earlier he had told Jonathan news he had heard about high water from a week’s heavy rain in northwest Alabama and Mississippi. The Sipsey and the Tombigbee Rivers had both flooded. Jonathan wanted to get the latest report before they left Tuscaloosa.
Mr. Sawyers shook his head when Jonathan inquired if he had heard any more news of the Sipsey from travelers stopping by.
“For sure. Some folks here last night said the Sipsey River was all out of its banks and in places looked to be a mile wide. How high the Tombigbee is will determine how fast the Sipsey recedes. Sipsey flows into the Tombigbee, you know; so if the Tombigbee gets high, it backs up the Sipsey. Could take a long time for the big river to get back within its banks—as much as a month.”
“Oh no!” Grace gasped, looking at Jonathan.
“May not take that long,” Mr. Sawyers said, noticing her concern. “What you’d better do is get back on the other side of the Warrior here so you can hit that wagon road going west. It’s a well-traveled road that should be safe, and you can follow it for about six or eight miles, then you’ll fork off to the left. That’ll keep you on high ground. That road will take you to the ferry where you can cross the Sipsey River. But it may be a day or two wait even there; maybe not.”
Jonathan looked at Grace. “That sounds like a good idea. What do you think?”
She nodded in agreement. “If you and Mr. Sawyers think that’s best.”
“Once you get off the ferry and travel that main road, you’ll connect to the main road that you left going through Fayette County o
n your trip north.”
Grace was disappointed to face yet another delay in getting home, but she knew she had to be sensible.
Jonathan thought for a minute. “We’d better go back to the general store and buy some more food, in case we have to wait for the ferry for a few days.”
“I suppose so,” Grace said as Jonathan turned the wagon around.
“Thanks for the information, Mr. Sawyers,” Jonathan called as they rode off.
The news from Mr. Sawyers was the beginning of a bad turn of events for Grace. She found herself sinking into a darker mood for the first time since she and Jonathan had found the gold.
As they turned into the general store, Grace spotted a familiar face, and her heart gave a leap of joy.
“Mrs. Barton,” Grace called, waving to the woman who lived near Whites Creek with her husband and family.
Mrs. Barton, dressed in a nice calico with matching sunbonnet turned and looked over her shoulder. Upon seeing Grace, she began to smile and hurry toward the wagon.
“Grace, how nice to see you!”
Grace was already getting down from the wagon to hug Mrs. Barton. She was one of the kindest people Grace had ever known, and she felt certain her kindness would extend to Jonathan.
“Oh Mrs. Barton. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. Is Mr. Barton with you?”
Grace liked Mr. Barton as well, and since both were friends of her parents and had often visited in previous years, she began to feel a deep sense of relief sweeping over her.
“Yes, Walter Ray is down at the feed store now. We’re here to buy supplies and try and restock some items for the farm.”
“So are we!” Grace noticed that Mrs. Barton was looking past Grace to Jonathan, who had reached her side.
Grace made the introductions, explaining who Jonathan was and exactly why he had come to visit them. She hesitated when she got to the part about her father’s message, quickly deciding not to mention it or the business with the gold.
“So he graciously agreed to bring me here for shopping.”
“How nice,” Mrs. Barton replied, shaking his hand. Unlike some others, Mrs. Barton was appreciative of what Jonathan had done, and she said as much to him. “We’ll find Walter Ray. Of course, he’ll want to see both of you. In fact, why don’t you join us for dinner at the hotel?”
Jonathan hesitated, looking at Grace.
“Actually, we just stopped to buy more food here. We were on our way back to Riverwood when we heard about the river. The man at the livery suggested we take a different route.”
Mrs. Barton nodded in agreement. “That’s right. I heard about the river. You see, we’ve been here for over a week, and I’m in no hurry to leave,” she said, smiling at Grace, then turned back to Jonathan. “If you wish to consider staying on, we would be pleased to have you as part of our group. In fact, we’re planning to visit some relatives just out of Tuscaloosa tomorrow. They have a large home and would welcome both of you.”
She had been looking from Jonathan to Grace as she spoke. Now she reached forward to squeeze Grace’s hand. “Why don’t you stay on a few more days? If your mother is all right, then we could travel back to Whites Creek together.” She looked at Jonathan. “My husband believes there is safety in numbers.”
Jonathan was nodding. “I agree. Grace, this might be the perfect solution. If the Bartons could see you safely back to Riverwood, then I could cut a day off my trip back to Louisville.”
The words were like a blow to Grace, and for a moment she thought she was going to reel back into the dirt of the street. For once in her life she was absolutely speechless.
“Oh, you’re planning to go back soon?” Mrs. Barton asked, sparing Grace the embarrassment of trying to make conversation.
“Yes. I have a farm in Louisville, and I’m very worried about its condition.”
“Are your parents there now?” Mrs. Barton asked with interest.
Grace was conscious of the creak of wagons, the smell of leather, and the clomp-clomp of horses around them, but everything else seemed to be escaping her. The conversation was continuing between Mrs. Barton and Jonathan, who was carefully explaining about his father’s death before the war and the plight of his mother and his sisters.
Grace’s mind seemed to be locked in time. She was too stunned to move forward or backward. All along she had been certain that she could convince Jonathan to stay on at Riverwood; she hadn’t been quite certain how she would do that, but believing that he loved her and knowing she loved him, she had expected their love to find a way.
As she walked beside Mrs. Barton on legs that felt as though they had turned to wood, she wondered if she had been mistaken all along about him. Maybe he didn’t really love her after all; or if he did, maybe his feelings didn’t go as deep as hers. If so, how could he just say good-bye to her here in Tuscaloosa and ride out of her life?
“Don’t you think, Grace?”
Grace turned blank eyes to Jonathan, wondering what he had asked her. “Why don’t we do some shopping and meet Mr. and Mrs. Barton in an hour for lunch at the tea room across the street?”
Grace followed his gaze across the street, and she heard herself agree. “Yes. Of course.”
“Dear, I believe you stood out there in the sun too long. You look a little pale,” Mrs. Barton said.
Grace felt Mrs. Barton’s gloved hand upon hers, squeezing gently. She turned and looked into the kind woman’s face and nodded. “Yes, I think so. We’ll see you in an hour.”
She had avoided looking at Jonathan for fear she would burst into tears. He had said good-bye to Mrs. Barton and placed his hand on her elbow to gently lead her into the coffee shop of the hotel.
She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. It wasn’t until they had taken a seat at a back table for privacy and Jonathan had ordered coffee that she felt the pressure of his hand on hers and forced herself to look at him.
His face was serious, and the blue eyes were bleak as he spoke. “I can see that you’re upset. Is it because I have to leave?”
“Why?” The word sounded more like something she would have said as a child. Her voice was small and weak, and the word seemed lost in the abyss of her pain.
“Grace, you know I have to go back to Kentucky. I told you that from the very beginning, and I’ve done everything I can to help you.” He hesitated.
The dining room was not crowded, and the waiter had quickly filled their coffee cups and was appearing at the table again.
Grace looked down at the white porcelain cup. The clear dark coffee sent a tiny breath of heat toward her. She needed the heat and the coffee to jolt her back to the person she had once been. All life seemed to have been drained from her there in the hot street with the awful announcement that Jonathan had made to Mrs. Barton.
She didn’t respond until she had taken a sip of the coffee and felt the sting on her tongue. She didn’t care that she had burned her tongue because she was too impatient to wait for it to cool down. Desperation pounded through her, and she knew she had to think clearly. With her strong will and sharp mind, she had found the best means of survival for her mother and herself. She had put to work the spirit her father had so often spoken about, and at times it had been the memory of her father’s faith in that spirit, more than her own, that had kept her going.
Leaning back in the chair, she forced herself to look at Jonathan. She knew she had to be calm and not say anything she would regret. A deep, inner wisdom seemed to take over, refilling the void that had settled in her heart when she thought of Jonathan leaving. The panic that had overtaken her in the hot street had frightened her; she did not want to expose herself to that again, so she tried another approach.
“I understand your concern about your farm, Jonathan. And you know how appreciative my mother and I are to you for all that you’ve done. I guess I was just…” She dropped her gaze, watching her thumb nervously trace the rim of the cup handle. “Just surprised,” she began again, “that since
you were able to get a telegraph to your mother about being detained…well, I just thought you would get me safely back to Riverwood and say good-bye to Mother.”
She paused, studying his face for the effect of her words. She had spoken the truth, but she knew as she did, she was also buying more time with him. She had to find a way to convince him to stay, and she felt sure that if he returned to Riverwood with her, he would not want to leave. And she hoped to talk her mother into helping her convince him to stay.
“But Grace, I don’t see the necessity of my returning with you. I mean, since the Bartons are friends of your family, I feel confident that you will be safe with them. And they’re going all the way back to Whites Creek. It seems like a perfectly sensible plan to me. Furthermore,” he said, searching her eyes, “I think if you agree, your mother would understand. After all, she seemed very sympathetic to my situation.”
Grace felt a slight twinge of temper but fought it down. “Just as I am sympathetic to your situation. But there’s another reason.” She paused, taking a sip of coffee, trying to think. She hated to stoop to using money as a means to an end, but she was still willing to share the money with him. After all, if he left with more money than planned, he might think the extra few days were worth his time.
“I don’t feel right about only giving you two hundred dollars. You deserve more, and I can pay it. I intend to delay paying off my loan at Whites Creek until I get the farm in working order. Then Mr. Britton is more likely to advance money for next year if I need it, and I probably will. Jonathan, everything depends on getting a good cotton harvest. You’ve told me that. And I have no one to oversee any labor I hire. I don’t have anyone to work the fields yet—”
“But Mr. Douglas and Reams will help you. And I’m certain Mr. Barton—”
She reached over and touched his arm. “If you will just help me hire some men and get them started, I won’t ask you to stay any longer. And the money I would have used to pay the loan will go toward helping you meet your expenses when you return. Jonathan, for the sake of your family, you have to think of this more in a business manner.”
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