Elinor blushed as they passed the mercantile owner with a nod. After he went into his store, she admonished Shug. “We have to watch what we say. If that got back to Mother, we would both be in big trouble.”
“I know, but it’s true. And you sure liked talking to him, too.”
“He was easy to converse with. He loves herbal cures and books, like I do.” She waited while a couple of women passed them. “What did you think of him?”
“Mama would say he’s pretty easy on the eyes.” Shug giggled.
He was handsome, but she enjoyed his personality even more. “I agree.”
Even strolling, they soon reached her uncle’s office, a mere two blocks from their house.
Shug stood outside the gate while Elinor walked up to the door and knocked.
“Come in,” a deep male voice called out. Not her uncle’s voice. Her heart raced as she waited.
The man from her dream opened the door. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Yes, I’m me.”
Their laughter mingled in a pleasant way.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I can’t invite you in. Your uncle isn’t here.”
“I might sit on the porch if he won’t be long. My mother said to give these bandages to him.”
“I could sit outside with you. Dr. Peck walked to his patient’s house, so it must not be far. And we do have a chaperone.” He nodded toward Shug.
Elinor called to her friend, “We’re going to wait for Uncle John, so why don’t you come sit in the shade under his chestnut tree.”
“Yes, please do.”
Besides being good-looking, the apprentice was also kind and respectful.
“Could I get you both a drink of water?”
Shug shook her head.
Elinor smiled. “No, thank you. It’s not a long walk.” How could she explain the ruckus it might cause if a slave drank from a white person’s cup? She sat down in a porch chair.
“What kind of books do you like most, Elinor?”
She edged forward on her seat. “I love to read all kinds and have read most of the books in our library at least twice, some even a dozen times. Especially the poetry.”
“A fellow poet lover.” William cocked his head. “Have you heard of a poet named Phillis Wheatley?”
“No, and I wonder why. My father has an extensive poetry collection.”
His eyes bore into hers as though he searched her soul. “Phillis was a slave who lived in the eighteenth century.”
“No, what did she write?”
“Various subjects, mostly religious and moral themes.”
“A slave who wrote poetry? Slaves around here can’t read or write.” She couldn’t tell him she’d taught Shug how to write the alphabet and her name for fear it would bring the wrath of others down on them both.
“Phillis came from a country in Africa called Senegal and was raised by a family in Massachusetts. Some of her poetry is quite extraordinary.”
“I’d love to read some of her work.”
He stood. “I have a book I’ll loan you.” When he returned with the slim volume, he handed it to her wrapped in brown paper and whispered, “For your eyes only.”
She nodded and placed it in the folds of her skirt.
Uncle John approached the gate. “My favorite niece come to visit me.”
“I’m your only niece, Uncle John.” She laughed at the familiar game.
He grinned. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”
She pointed to the package she’d brought. “Mother sent you some bandages from old sheets.”
“Tell her I surely appreciate them.”
“I will. We’d better be going.” She walked to the tree where Shug joined her. “Good-bye, Uncle John, and you, too, Mr. Chandler.” With a wave, she departed.
When she left, the gaiety and laughter departed with her. William had never been affected like that before. What was going on?
He followed Dr. Peck into the cabin that served as their living quarters and office. “How is your patient?”
“I had to give him three stitches behind his ear.” He pulled a scrawny chicken out of a feed sack. “He gave me this chicken and some potatoes, so we’ll eat well tonight. A successful visit.”
William grinned at the vision in his mind of Elinor. “Yes, a successful visit.” When could he see her again? “Are we going to church in the morning?”
“Yes, you’re welcome to attend the Methodist Church on the next corner with me if you like.” He winked at William. “It’s where all the Peck family worship.”
William’s face warmed. “What time do services begin?”
“Eleven o’clock for church, and some people go to the new Sunday school my niece and some of the ladies started for the children.”
“Yes, we had Sunday school at my church in Ohio. What do you need me to do now?”
Dr. Peck held up the bird. “How are you at cutting up a chicken?”
“Pretty good, if I do say so. My mom used to let me use them to practice surgery as long as I didn’t take too long.”
Doc chuckled. “Your mom sounds like a special lady. Hope you can find a helpmeet like the Bible called Eve. I never found one who would put up with chickens and turnips as pay for my services.”
William had never thought of a wife before today, but now it struck him as a grand idea. “Where’s your butcher knife? The sooner I operate, the sooner we eat.”
Chapter Two
After supper, Elinor begged off their usual family hour in the parlor by saying she was tired and wanted to read for a while.
Her mother touched her forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever, so a good night’s rest is probably all you need.”
“I agree.” The book Mr. Chandler had loaned her was calling her. She knew her parents loved her, but sometimes all the love and attention suffocated her.
As she walked past the chest in the hallway, she grabbed a couple of candles from its top drawer for her light supply. She wouldn’t stop until she finished the book from William. She whispered his name. It wasn’t proper to call an acquaintance of the opposite sex by his first name, but his seemed so right on her tongue, even though she wouldn’t dare do it in front of him or anyone else.
As the last glimmers of dusk peeked through the tall bedroom windows, Elinor slipped into her nightgown then removed the slim volume from under her mattress. The anticipation of reading a slave girl’s words in a book given to her by William sent tingles up her arm. He’d trusted her with this treasure.
She traced the gold embossed words on the brown leather cover—Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral by Phillis Wheatley. Slipping under the covers, her mind took her back to the last century as she read the words penned by a girl about her age, words of beauty, courage, strength, and insight beyond her years.
Funeral poems and one even written to the king of England. How could this young girl who’d learned English as her second language write such moving, stirring words?
After she finished the whole book in a couple of hours, she reread some of her favorites—“An Hymn to the Morning” and “An Hymn to the Evening.” She fell asleep while committing to memory the words that seeped into her soul:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On every leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feathered race resume,
Dart the bright eye and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant glooms display
To shield your poet from the burning day.
Someone tapped her arm. Her eyes flew open in a bright, sun-filled room and peered into the chocolate-brown eyes of Shug.
“Wake up, missy. Your mother says she’s coming up to check on you if you aren’t down to breakfast in ten minutes.”
Elinor threw back the covers. The small volume hit the floor.
Her friend picked it up and studied it. “What’s this about?”
“A book William, I m
ean Mr. Chandler, loaned me. You can’t tell anyone about it.”
“I won’t.”
“You know I trust you. Help me dress before Mother comes up.”
In a few minutes, she walked down the stairs under the watchful eyes of her mother.
“How are you feeling, dear? Do you need to stay home from church today?”
Elinor loved church and couldn’t wait to talk with William and ask him more about Phillis Wheatley. “No, I’m fine.”
“Sunday breakfast is out on the buffet. Hurry. We need to leave in under an hour.”
“Yes, Mother.” Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation of soon seeing William.
William arrived at the Methodist Church, hoping to spend every possible minute with Elinor. He sat on the back pew to see all the parishioners as they entered.
To his frustration, most mothers, their daughters in tow, stopped by to meet him and have the minister introduce them. The only one he was interested in hadn’t arrived yet.
After the opening prayer, the Peck family came in, and Elinor and her mother walked straight past him to a room in the back.
So much for his plans. He turned his thoughts to the scripture reading and lesson.
Later Dr. Peck came in and sat down in one of the front rows. When the class ended, he beckoned to William to join him. “This is the Peck pew, my boy. I want you to feel like part of the family while you’re here.”
William smiled. Perhaps Elinor would sit by him.
The Pecks entered the row with their daughter ensconced between them. Mrs. Peck sat next to William, then Elinor, then her father. He nodded at them all, but Elinor only nodded once then kept her eyes averted. Was this the same vibrant girl who’d entranced him on the stroll at her house and who showed such interest in the book he loaned her last night?
Father, help me keep my mind on You during this worship service, and help me speak to Elinor again today.
Calm settled over him. God had answered the first part of his prayer. He prayed and trusted Him to answer the second part.
At the last “Amen,” Doc tugged at his sleeve and nodded toward a mother and daughter standing in the aisle next to the doctor.
“Dr. Peck, I cooked plenty this morning. Would you and the young doc come to our home for Sunday dinner?”
The doctor looked at him and quirked a brow. “I didn’t fix anything, so do you want to join me for lunch with Mrs. Obed and her family?”
Following Doc’s lead, William nodded. “I’d be obliged. A woman’s cooking is always better than a man’s.”
Mrs. Obed smiled as she pushed her daughter toward William. “This here’s my Miranda. She helped me do the cooking.”
Miranda fluttered her eyes at him. He wanted to run the other way but couldn’t embarrass his host. “How nice of you both.”
“Come along then, so the roast won’t dry out.” Mrs. Obed linked arms with Miranda and marched up the aisle. He followed them.
Even the promise of a good home-cooked meal couldn’t brighten his mood. When would he see Elinor again?
After their noon meal, Elinor sat in the parlor, embroidering a sampler for a wedding gift for a friend. She’d never thought much about weddings until a couple of months ago when two of the girls she’d attended school with had announced their engagements. The weddings would take place later this summer.
Her mother laid down her stitching to wipe her brow with a handkerchief. “June is already unbearable. I’m going to lie down in hopes a breeze will blow through the windows. How about you?”
“I’m not sleepy. I think I’ll take a walk.”
“Shug will have to accompany you. It’s not proper for a young woman to walk about alone.” She stopped on the bottom step. “Be sure to wear your bonnet.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Anything to get out of the house and maybe run into William.
She checked her hair in the hall mirror then went down the steps to the cellar. Cooler air met her, making her happy for the slaves’ sake. They had such hard jobs.
Shug and Dottie sat peeling apples.
“Dottie, Mother says I have to take Shug if I go for a walk.”
“We just finished up the dishes, so she can go for a bit.”
“Thank you.”
Dottie’s stern face melted into a smile. “Go on with you now.”
Shug joined hands with Elinor. Outside the house, she turned, a twinkle in her eye. “Where do you want to walk this afternoon—maybe down the hill to the doctor’s office?”
“It might be cooler, but then we’d have to climb the hill on the way back.”
“We could walk to the Licking River and dip our toes in like we used to.”
“I’d love to, but Mother would think it very unladylike.”
Shug’s eyes dared her. “Let’s mosey on down to the river to see if any air is stirring. Then we can stop by your uncle’s house to rest on our way back.”
They started down the street, assuming the position her mother always insisted on—Elinor in front, followed by Shug.
Reaching the riverbank, Elinor sent Shug down to the stream to dip her handkerchief in the cool water to wet her neck on the trip back.
Shug handed the wet cloth to Elinor, who placed it on her cheeks then rolled it inside the back of her bonnet.
The coolness afforded some relief. “I think I can make it back now.”
“Without stopping?”
“We’ll see.” Elinor grinned.
They paused when they reached the gate in her uncle’s white picket fence. Elinor turned to see if Shug still followed. As she spun back around, a blur rushed by, almost knocking her off her feet. She stumbled.
Strong arms wrapped around her.
Elinor looked up into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. William.
He released her. “I’m sorry. I need to slow down and look both ways when I come out of the yard. Are you all right?”
“Yes. Thank you for catching me.” Heat burned her cheeks, and she stepped back.
A couple of her mother’s friends stopped in the middle of the street. Their chilled glares pinned her in place. What would they tell Mother?
William offered his arm to her. “I’m on my way to see Mrs. Stephens. Your uncle said she lives near you. May I accompany you home?”
“Certainly.” She took his arm.
“What did you think about Phillis Wheatley’s book?”
The beauty beside him shot him an excited glance. “I loved it so much I tried to memorize some of it.”
His heart beat faster at the news. “I’m happy to hear you liked it.”
“It’s hard to believe she was a slave.”
The earnestness in her tone warmed his heart. “Yes, but the Wheatley family loved her more like a daughter than a slave.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I wonder if more slaves could write poetry if they were treated better.”
“Your slaves seem to be well treated.”
“Father would never let them be ill-treated, but they work hard every day.”
“You’re a compassionate woman, Miss Peck.”
“You’re the one who plans to be a doctor and save lives.”
“I want to save all lives, people of all races.”
“I agree.”
He needed to know more about her. Her thoughts. Her hopes. Her dreams. Everything. “What was your favorite part of the book?”
“I loved the hymns to both morning and evening, and the story of how Phillis Wheatley traveled to America moved me to tears. I wish she were still alive so we could sit down and talk.”
His steps slowed as they approached her house, wanting to savor this time with her. “I wish we had time to talk more, but duty calls. I hope to see you again soon.”
She stared up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes. “Me, too.”
His face heated. “Could I…would it be all right if I called you Elinor in private?”
She nodded. “We’ll keep it our secret…William
.”
He watched as she climbed the steps to her home. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
As soon as she entered the hallway, her father’s voice boomed from the parlor. “Elinor, come in here, please.”
She swallowed as she entered the room. “Yes, Father.” Her eyes roamed from him to Mother.
Her mother squeezed a handkerchief. “How could you let that man hold you in broad daylight in front of the whole town? Mrs. Bishop and Mrs. Florence told us of your shameful behavior.”
Stunned, she tried to defend their actions. “Nothing happened. I fell, and—”
“Go to your room,” her mother pointed toward the stairs.
Elinor glanced at Father, who nodded.
With a clear conscience, Elinor left. She would reason with Father later. She climbed the steps, stroking the inlaid parquets he’d let her design and carve, up and down the length of the staircase. Happy memories.
Inside her room, she dropped to the side of her bed and poured out her prayers to the only One who would listen.
After dark, a soft tap at her door warned her someone was there. “Come in.”
Her weary-looking father set down a tray of food. “I hope you’ll eat something. Your mother insists we send you to Aunt Charlotte’s house in Washington tomorrow morning. Joseph will drive you in my carriage. You should arrive by noon.”
Alarm brought a protest to her lips. “I love Aunt Charlotte, but I don’t see why I have to go away, since I did nothing wrong.” She blinked back tears.
“If you were a boy, I’d bring you to work with me. You’d make a fine lawyer.” Handing her a bag of coins, he smiled. “This should help you pass the time in Washington while your mother cools off. Remember to pick her up something, too. She always likes something from the shops there.” He bent over and hugged her then left.
Shug entered, her sad face mirroring Elinor’s. “I wish I could go with you, but the missus insists I stay here.”
Elinor threw her arms around her best friend, her heart aching for both of them. “I’ll miss you. But they surely won’t expect me to stay long.”
Shug pulled the trunk from the corner of the room toward the closet. “While I pack your undergarments, do you wish to choose your dresses?”
The Courageous Brides Collection Page 27