The Prodigal's Welcome

by Billerbeck, Kristin; Darty, Peggy;

  Grace stared at her, saying nothing for a moment. Then she, too, felt the rush of tears, and she let them flow freely down her cheeks. “Mother, I love you,” she said. “You have been so strong in your faith. I’ll never forget the lesson you have taught me.”

  They sat in the kitchen, hugging one another and crying, marveling at all the blessings that had come to them. Then Jonathan’s steps sounded in the hall, and Grace got up to help her mother take the meal to the dining room table.

  They talked as they ate, and once or twice Grace smiled warmly at Jonathan. She had forgotten her anger and the words that had been spoken in haste, and she only hoped that Jonathan had as well.

  It had been a long day, and by the time they finished their meal, darkness had settled over the house. Grace was so tired she almost hadn’t noticed that her mother went about lighting the candles.

  “You look absolutely exhausted,” Jonathan said, his elbow on the table.

  She smiled at him. Dark circles lined his eyes, and the shadow of a beard covered his jaw. “So do you. I think we’ve earned a good night’s sleep.”

  He nodded and got up slowly. “I didn’t realize until now that I’m practically asleep on my feet.” He stretched his arms over his head, then winced.

  “Jonathan, your shoulder,” Grace said, worried again.

  “It’s healing fine. I washed off down at the watering trough when I was seeing to the horses. I checked the cut place then, and I’m strong as ever.” He winked at her. “Get a good night’s rest. First thing in the morning, I want to ride over and see Mr. Douglas and ask about getting you some field hands.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Jonathan.” As she looked across at him, she wanted to say more, so much more, but she knew she was far too tired to make sense. “I’ll see you in the morning. Rest well.”

  He had started to walk around the table to her side when her mother entered the dining room again. Grace suspected that Jonathan wanted to kiss her, but he was still mindful of his promise to her mother.

  Elizabeth looked at Jonathan. “I’ve prepared the guest room for you. I pray you sleep well.”

  “I will,” he said and patted her arm. “Good night.”

  Soon after Jonathan had gone upstairs, Grace left her mother in the parlor and trudged up to her own room. When she settled into her soft bed, she moaned with relief. She was glad to be home; she hoped she never had to leave again.

  Grace was seated on the front porch, enjoying her second cup of coffee, when Jonathan rode back up the drive, returning from a visit to the Douglas place. Her mother had just come to the door to say she had most of the supplies put away.

  Grace only half heard what her mother said as she watched Jonathan walk up to the front porch. She thought about what a handsome man he was, but she knew so many more important things about him now, his kindness, his loyalty, and his honesty. He was every bit as bound to duty and honor as her father had been.

  “Mr. Douglas told me to go down to the dock at Jina and ask for a man named Isaac Banks. He’s working at the docks, but he wants to get back to farming,” Jonathan said as he settled lazily into a chair beside her.

  Watching him, Grace noticed how at ease he seemed to be. Hope sprang in her heart. Maybe now that they were back at Riverwood, he would change his mind. She wasn’t going to try to persuade him not to go to Kentucky; she had learned her lesson about that. But she dared hope that somehow they could work out a plan.

  “Someone told Mr. Douglas that Isaac didn’t like having to live on the docks, that he wants to move back to the country. He is said to be the best worker in the county.”

  Grace tried to follow the conversation, reminding herself that she should be paying closer attention. “Jina is only an hour’s ride,” she answered. “Would you want to go and talk with this man?” she asked, feeling a bit shy about requesting anything more of him.

  Jonathan nodded. “I can, but since you’re the one who’s hiring him, I think you should go along so he understands who the boss is.”

  Grace averted her eyes. She had promised herself that she was not going to argue with Jonathan. She was so happy over all their blessings that she couldn’t stir up any independent feelings.

  “Yes, Grace, why don’t you go with him?” her mother suggested.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Grace realized that her mother had again assumed the responsibility of meals, freeing Grace to think of business. “Okay, I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  She hurried upstairs to change clothes, and when she returned, Jonathan had saddled Banjo and Lucky. She stood for a moment, stroking first one horse, then the other. “Jonathan, I’m so grateful to have a good horse.”

  “I know. I thought I’d try Banjo and give General a rest.”

  As they rode down the drive, Grace continued stroking Lucky and looked over at Banjo. “They make a great pair, don’t they?”

  At his hesitation, Grace looked across and saw that Jonathan was watching her differently. The twinkle had returned to his eyes, and he was smiling at her. “Yep, a good pair.”

  She returned his smile, and as they rode on, Grace thought she had never in her life felt such happiness.

  They reached Jina in less than an hour. The little settlement was nestled on a high bank overlooking the Tombigbee River. It bustled with activity as workers loaded freight from the dock to be shipped downriver to Mobile.

  Securing their horses at the hitching post, they headed toward the small huts where the workers lived. Mr. Douglas had said Isaac lived in the first cabin on the right. As they approached the cabin, a deep bass voice belted out one of Grace’s favorite songs: “Weep no more, my lady…oh, weep no more, I pray…”

  The door of the cabin opened, and a huge black man stepped out. He was dressed in work clothes, a brown felt hat riding low on his broad forehead.

  “Hello,” Jonathan called to him. “We’re looking for Isaac Banks.”

  “Afternoon. I’m Isaac.” He removed his hat, revealing thick gray hair. In a mere half dozen steps, he caught up with them and stood towering over the couple. Grace thought he was the biggest man she had ever seen. She judged him to be at least six feet, five inches, all muscles and brawn, weighing at least 250 pounds. He had large, blunt features and a grim expression in his dark eyes.

  Grace felt Jonathan’s eyes on her, and she cleared her throat. “I’m Grace Cunningham. I understand you’re looking for work.”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Mr. Paul Douglas sent me to see if you’d be willing to come to work for us at Riverwood,” she continued.

  He began to twist the worn brim of his felt hat in his large hands as he looked from Grace to Jonathan, then back again. “Are you goin’ to try and grow cotton again?” he asked. “I ain’t never gonna pick cotton again.”

  Grace heard the bitterness in his voice, and she remembered Mr. Douglas had said that this man had spent his life working cotton. He was a fierce man, she could see that, and she wanted to be sure she made her plan clear to him.

  “I’m not asking you to pick cotton,” she replied gently. “If we grow cotton, I would put you in charge of the other men as my overseer.”

  “She’s interested in clearing off the fields first,” Jonathan explained. “The fields haven’t been farmed in a few years, so they’ll need to be cleaned up and burned over.”

  “I don’t mind doing that,” Isaac answered, “but I won’t pick cotton.”

  “Fair enough,” Grace agreed.

  “I make a dollar a day working at the docks,” he said, still looking doubtful.

  “I’ll pay you that,” Grace offered firmly.

  “But I’d need to stay at the docks a few more days,” he said. “I can’t just up and quit and leave them shorthanded.”

  “I understand. Do you think you could come in about a week?”

  “Yes’m.” He clamped his hat on his head. “I reckon I can do that. You’re the farm next the Mr. Douglas’s place?”

  “That�
��s right. My father was Fred Cunningham.”

  He nodded. “He was a good fair man.”

  “Thank you, Isaac. If you want advance pay—”

  “I don’t take nothing till I’ve earned it.”

  “All right. Then I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Yes’m.” He clapped his felt hat low on his forehead and struck a path toward the docks.

  Grace looked at Jonathan. “I think he’s exactly the kind of man I need to oversee the cotton.”

  Jonathan nodded. “I agree. Well, this was easy enough. Shall we go back now?”

  They talked and laughed all the way back to Riverwood, and Grace was in high spirits as they rode back up the drive. Then she saw the fancy carriage parked in the driveway with its familiar family crest on the side of the carriage door. The driver sat under an oak tree, staring out at the pasture.

  “That’s the Britton carriage,” Grace said, looking at Jonathan. She wondered what its presence could mean. If Mr. Britton had come calling, concerned about the money she owed, then she had some wonderful news for him.

  She smiled to herself and looked over at Jonathan. “Come on inside. I want you to meet Mr. Britton. He’s a very nice man.”

  As soon as they stepped into the hall, Grace realized it was not Mr. Britton who had come to call, but rather his wife, who was considered the town snob.

  “I must say, Elizabeth, I’m shocked that you would allow such a thing.” Her high-pitched voice reached Grace, and she felt as though she had just drawn her fingernails over rusty iron.

  Grace turned to Jonathan. “Maybe you’d better excuse us. If you want to go on to the barn with the horses, I’ll be down in a minute,” she whispered, leaving Jonathan in the hall.

  As Grace hurried into the parlor, Mrs. Britton whirled from the love seat, fluttering the feather in her hat. The little hat slid lower on the woman’s broad silver head, and she turned to Grace with a sharp look that sliced her up and down.

  “Grace, Eva Nell Douglas told me you left your mother all alone and went off with…that man.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that,” Elizabeth said.

  “Mr. Britton and I have been hearing all sorts of things,” the woman continued, gathering momentum with each word. “I understand your houseguest brawled in the streets with some character, and it took Sheriff Whitworth to break it up. Mrs. Primrose says you are quite friendly with this…this Yankee. Really, Grace, what are you thinking of after your father and your brother—”

  Elizabeth rose to her feet, looking with contempt at Mrs. Britton. “Samantha, you have completely misconstrued the facts. Jonathan Parker is here at my invitation because he saved Fred’s life—”

  “Don’t be gullible, Elizabeth. Naturally, he would say that. How else would he weasel his way into Riverwood? They’re after southern land, you know, all of them.”

  Grace was so angry she forced herself to mentally count to ten before she opened her mouth. But she saw that Mrs. Britton was reaching for her purse, ready to run after her insulting little speech.

  “Mrs. Britton, Jonathan Parker has a farm of his own and has no need of ours. He—”

  “You can comfort yourself with that idea, Grace, but no one believes it. Furthermore, you may not have a farm much longer if you don’t repay your debt to the bank. My husband has been concerned about this all along; but in view of your behavior of late, it now appears that you could get swindled out of what Fred worked so hard to give you. We intend to see that such an event doesn’t happen,” she said, pausing at the door to sneer at Grace again.

  Her mother stood beside Grace, her hand on her arm. She could feel her mother’s message: Don’t say anything more.

  So Grace kept her silence. She swallowed back her fury and waited until she heard the sound of the driver calling to the horses and the wheels of the carriage rolling down the lane.

  “Mother, forget what she said,” Grace cried. “I’ll see Mr. Britton first thing in the morning and straighten this out.”

  She turned and headed toward the stairs, venting her anger with quick steps up the stairway. She would rush down to the barn and join Jonathan with the horses. She would forget…

  At the top of the stairs, her eyes widened as she saw Jonathan close the door to the guest room and walk down the hall, his small traveling satchel in his hand.

  She stared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving, Grace.”

  He hurried past her and down the stairs before she could summon a response. She turned and looked after him as he strode down the hall toward the back door.

  She flew down the stairs after him, her mind working. He obviously had not gone to the barn; instead, he had lingered in the hall out of concern, and he had heard every ugly word Mrs. Britton had spoken.

  Well, she would explain. She would persuade him to stay overnight and talk things out.

  He was already out the door, his long legs moving swiftly toward the pasture where General grazed.

  “Jonathan, wait.” She ran after him, catching up at the end of the yard. “Everyone knows Mrs. Britton is an ugly gossip who treats everyone unfairly. You can’t let her words—”

  “Some of the things she said made sense, Grace, even though you may not want to admit it. Those people have no way of knowing who I am or what my motives are. They only have my word—”

  “Which is more than enough. Why, when Mr. Barton gets back—”

  “At this moment, the bank owns Riverwood,” Jonathan continued sternly. “You can’t afford to ruffle Britton’s feathers, Grace. Once you’ve paid him back, you can say what you want to his wife. Which brings up another point. I am still determined not to take any more of your money. You can’t afford not to pay back that loan now, Grace. You have to.”

  Grace stood speechless, knowing deep in her heart that he was right. If she gave him as much money as she had offered, she would have to wait until the cotton harvest to repay the loan. Assuming there was a cotton harvest.

  She swallowed, reaching out to restrain him as he turned to go. She knew she was losing him; it would take more than money or desperate pleas to stop him now. All she had left was the bare truth, and as he turned briefly to face her, she knew she had to give him that.

  “I won’t beg you to stay, but you must know this: I love you, Jonathan. Nothing can change that; nothing ever will.” She looked him straight in the eye and saw his eyes brighten. She even thought he was beginning to smile.

  But the smile faded as he reached for her, pulling her close to his chest. “And I love you, Grace. God only knows how hard I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, but it’s no use. You’ve been honest with me when I know it must have been difficult. What’s even more difficult is that I can’t stay here, Grace. I have to return to Kentucky.”

  He hesitated, glancing over her shoulder as though considering something. Then he pulled her closer to him, hugging her against his chest as though he never wanted to let her go. “Come with me. Please. We can be happy together, I know we can. We both love horses, and we can make our dreams come true in Kentucky. Come with me, and we’ll build a new life together in a different place.”

  “But Mother…” Grace began to protest, amazed that she was even thinking of leaving Riverwood. What did it matter if she spent her life alone? What did anything matter if she hadn’t Jonathan to love?

  “We could take your mother with us, Grace.”

  Grace heard the words, weighed them in her mind, even turned slowly in his arms to look back at the house. Surely her mother would understand, would want her to be happy. Perhaps she could convince her mother to come along.…

  But then she realized that Jonathan was turning her loose, and when she looked around she saw that he had put his hand over his forehead and was backing away from her.

  “What am I saying?” he asked, then looked back at her as though dazed. “Now I have really betrayed your father. Everything we’ve been doing is to carry out his mission for his farm
and his family.” He shook his head and began to walk quickly along the path to the barn.

  Grace stared after him. She couldn’t keep running after him; she couldn’t keep begging. And he was right. If she turned Riverwood over to the bank, she would never forgive herself. Even if her mother would agree to go with them to Kentucky, Grace wouldn’t feel right about it.

  She turned slowly, feeling as though she had aged ten years in an hour. Her feet were leaden as she plodded back to the house, up the porch steps, and through the door. Like one in a trance, she put one foot in front of the other, climbing the stairs to her room. She closed the door, undressed, and went to bed. She didn’t think she had the energy to ever get out of bed again. She rolled over on her stomach and covered her head with the pillow so she wouldn’t hear General’s hoofbeats as Jonathan left her. Forever.

  Chapter 13

  For two days Grace remained in bed. Her mother had wisely said little, bringing her trays of food that she later removed, the food cold and untouched. On the third day, Grace noticed that her mother wore a different look on her face.

  “Grace, Isaac Banks is here. He wants me to tell you that he was laid off at the docks, once his foreman heard he was planning to leave. He’s here to work. You have to get up now and tell him what you want done.”

  For a few minutes Grace lay unmoving, staring at the ceiling. Then slowly, she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The memory of Isaac’s straightforward manner reminded her that she must treat him fairly; she had promised that. She got dressed and went downstairs.

  Within a month, Isaac had rounded up enough men to clear the fields and burn off the old growth. He had done a splendid job of overseeing the men, and they worked from daylight to dark. Grace respected his position as overseer and only went to the fields to take food and water.

  Grace had begun to join her mother on the porch each afternoon, for she felt lonely and sad, and it helped to have her mother to talk to. She was certain she would never feel really happy again, but she was at least beginning to have some satisfaction as she rode Lucky over the farm each day, inspecting the good job the men were doing.