Brides of Georgia

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by Connie Stevens


  He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I did, but judging by the date, it followed me around awhile.”

  “Followed you around?” Abby frowned. She’d sent it to Fort New Echota. “I don’t understand.”

  “A few days after you left, I was called to Fort Cass and then to Fort Butler.” He took a sip of coffee and continued. “A supply detail came in carrying mail, and there was a note from your aunt.”

  “How did Aunt Charlotte know you were at Fort Butler?”

  “She didn’t. The note was addressed to New Echota. When the mail was sorted, the corporal noticed an envelope addressed to me and delivered it.”

  He sent a stern look to both Abby and Nathaniel. “My sister was obviously distraught when she mailed the note because all it said was that you had not arrived as expected due to an accident.” His tone tightened, and he cleared his throat. “I left the following day for Raleigh.”

  “But I told Aunt Charlotte in my letter that I was fine.”

  Father nodded. “When I arrived in Raleigh, she let me read your letter.” He shifted in his seat. “But I don’t see what this has to do with your refusal to go now.”

  Abby slid her gaze to Nathaniel. If anyone would understand what she was about to say, it was him. She turned to face her father. “You’ve always said a man is only as good as his word. Doesn’t that also apply to a woman?”

  He pursed his lips and gave a short nod.

  She shifted her attention between both men. “I promised Beth I’d stay for as long as she needed me. I intend to keep that promise.” She lowered her eyes for a moment. God, please help Father understand. “Father, we’ve argued for years about where was best for me to live: with you at your post or with Aunt Charlotte in Raleigh. When I was younger, I didn’t have a choice.” She reached over and touched her father’s hand. “But I’m not a little girl anymore. I believe this is where God wants me.”

  A frown worked its way into her father’s brow, but he didn’t reply.

  “Father, there are some things you need to know—things I didn’t write in the letter.” She risked a glance at Nathaniel, and it was nearly her undoing. The look in his eyes took her breath away. He’d proven he had a heart of honor. It was time the erroneous stigma was removed.

  “Nathaniel was wrongly convicted at his court-martial.” She hurried to explain the story Wren had told her and the miscarriage of justice that had occurred. Her father had the power to clear Nathaniel’s name if he would listen to the truth.

  “Who is this Wren woman, and why should I regard her word as valid? As I understand you, this woman is a Cherokee.”

  Nathaniel sat dumbstruck for several moments. He had no idea Abby knew about the circumstances surrounding his court-martial. The growing assurance of his love for her nearly tied his heart in a knot. But he leaned forward in his chair and found his tongue. “Sir, may I speak freely?”

  Colonel Locke eyed him with suspicion but nodded. Nathaniel straightened his shoulders.

  “What your daughter has told you is true. When Alpha Company set out from Fort Reed that day, our orders were to locate and advise those Cherokee who had yet to vacate their homes. When Captain Bane gave the order to open fire, I couldn’t believe it. I tried to stop him, but the other troopers were already shooting.” The recurring nightmare flashed across his mind once more. His stomach rolled. “The Cherokees we encountered weren’t hostile. They protested and asked for more time to gather their belongings, but they showed no aggression. Captain Bane’s actions were in direct violation of General Scott’s orders. I considered it my moral duty to protect unarmed women and children, and given the same circumstances, I’d do it again.”

  “And one of those women was the one named Wren?”

  “Yes, sir. After I was arrested, I never knew what became of her or the others. She must have evaded capture that day. I can’t say I’m sorry.”

  The Colonel stood and paced the length of the porch. “Why weren’t Captain Bane’s actions brought into testimony? If what you say is true, you could have been exonerated, unless you didn’t have anyone who could confirm your story.” Speculation etched lines on Colonel’s Locke’s face.

  How could he give an honest answer without hurting Abby? He looked at her and hesitated. He’d hoped his trek down the ravine would demonstrate what he’d not felt the freedom to speak. After a quick prayer for God to protect her heart, he turned to the colonel who sat waiting for an answer.

  “I was…courting Felicia Bane, Captain Bane’s daughter. When this incident occurred, I knew Felicia and her mother would be devastated—their family shamed, so I declined to implicate Captain Bane.”

  Colonel Locke’s eyebrows furrowed. “You withheld evidence?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No, sir, not exactly. Even though I did not accuse him, I had supposed some of the other men in Alpha Company would. I now suspect, although cannot prove, some bribery took place.

  “Bane’s aide-de-camp, Sergeant Browning, testified falsely that the shooting was in response to the Cherokees’ aggression.” Nathaniel glanced at Abby and found her hanging on his every word. If she was displeased at learning he was once sweet on Felicia Bane, it didn’t show. “Browning is now riding with the Georgia Guard. He was one of the outlaws we met on the trail. I didn’t recognize him at first.”

  The colonel stood with his hands clasped behind him, his face a study in deliberation. For months Nathaniel prayed for God to clear his name. Now, instead of Colonel Locke’s conclusions, all he could focus on was Abby’s reaction to his admission about his former courtship.

  During the past four days he’d held the image of her face in his mind. He imagined the joy of her countenance when she saw her keepsakes and dreamed of the softness of her lips. Now that she sat across from him, his heart throbbed in his chest, and he longed to take her hands in his and share every secret of his heart—how thoughts of her accompanied his waking and lingered in his dreams. The ache in his chest swelled as his eyes traced the plane of her cheekbones and the tip of her nose.

  Colonel Locke halted his pacing and cleared his throat. Nathaniel tore his gaze away from Abby. He stood and faced her father. The colonel pressed his fingertips together and eyed Nathaniel.

  “It appears I owe you my gratitude for the way you’ve protected my daughter.” Locke removed his hat and fingered the cock’s feather before tossing the hat on the chair. “As for the brand of dishonor, what you have told me today bears investigation. If what you say is true, your actions were a reflection of your officer’s oath.” He clasped his hands behind him. “It is an injustice, when a man knows his own rectitude of conduct, to have his loyalty debased and held in contempt.”

  The colonel folded his arms across his chest. “Now I’d like to know more about this Cherokee woman.”

  Nathaniel sent a quick glance toward Abby. “I can honestly tell you that I don’t know where she is. We met her on the trail after the encounter with the outlaws. She doctored me and gave aid to the ladies, and led us to the closest town.” He gestured to the community around them. “Then she disappeared into these mountains.”

  Abby spoke up. “Father, she’s been generous and kind, and I wouldn’t betray her even if I did know where to find her.”

  Her father raised one eyebrow. “Hmph. I suppose one Cherokee woman living in the mountain wilderness isn’t much of a threat.” He looked at Abby then rested his steely eyes on Nathaniel. “As soon as I return to Fort Butler, I will initiate an investigation into the incident regarding Captain Bane. If there was any bribery that took place, it will be uncovered. You stand a very good chance of having your conviction reversed and your commission restored.”

  Nathaniel looked down at Abby who remained in her chair. He wished he knew how she felt about the disclosure regarding Felicia, but her eyes gave nothing away. Her expression offered only a suggestion of peace. Even now, her face brightened with pleasure at her father’s statement. Perhaps his courtship with Felicia didn�
��t matter to her. There was only one way to find out.

  He turned back to the colonel. “I will appreciate anything you can do to clear my name, sir. However, in the past few months I’ve come to love these mountains and wish to settle down here. That is…” He reached for Abby’s hand and drew her to her feet. “If I may have permission to court your daughter.”

  Colonel Locke lifted his chin and cocked one eyebrow. “Judging by the glow on my daughter’s face, isn’t that what you’ve been doing already?”

  “N–not formally, sir. I didn’t have the right as long as my name was sullied.”

  Locke gave him a long, unblinking look. Then he leaned over and took Abby’s face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “You may court my daughter.”

  Epilogue

  Abby glanced shyly up at Nathaniel. He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm as they walked to the edge of the woods. She relished the touch of his hand.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Miss Bane?”

  He shrugged. “There wasn’t much to tell. I had debated whether or not to ask for her hand, but I kept remembering Reverend and Mrs. Danfield and the love I could see between them. It wasn’t there with Felicia, and God never gave me a peace about it. When I was released from the stockade, she wanted nothing to do with me.”

  Disbelief widened her eyes. “After you took the blame so her family wouldn’t be shamed? Why, she doesn’t deserve a fine man like—”

  Heat flooded her face, but Nathaniel’s smile sent ripples of excitement up her spine. After fretting over his whereabouts for four days, she squeezed his fingers to be sure her hand was safely enclosed within his.

  They stood beneath the shade of the oaks, and Nathaniel bent to pluck a buttercup. He spun the flower between his thumb and forefinger and held it out to her.

  “I’m grateful your father is going to see to it my name is cleared. It means I’m finally free to ask if you could consider spending your life with a man like me.”

  A twinge of regret pinched her as she accepted the bright-yellow blossom. She wished she’d shared her heart with him sooner. Her voice became a whisper. “A man like you? I’ve known your heart since the day you kissed me out by the corral.”

  A mischievous grin poked a dimple into his cheek. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he leaned down and cupped her face in both hands, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I never want you to wonder what my heart feels.”

  Her heart danced against her ribs and her breath caught. “Will you tell me every day?”

  He ran the back of his fingers along her cheek. “I promise.”

  The barking orders of the sergeant carried on the wind, and Abby angled her head to look toward Tucker’s.

  “It looks like my father is getting ready to ride out.”

  Nathaniel took her hand, and they walked back to the store. Her father stood next to his mount, adjusting his cinch and stirrups. When he turned to address them, his gruff military demeanor had returned, but Abby smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  He harrumphed and straightened his frock coat, but a pleased smile tweaked his mustache. He extended his hand to Nathaniel. “Take care of my daughter, Lieutenant.”

  “I will, sir.”

  A sheen lit her father’s eyes. He snapped a crisp salute, which Nathaniel returned.

  Nathaniel enclosed Abby’s hand within his as they watched the soldiers disappear around the bend in the road.

  “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart.” The words graced Abby’s mind so gently, she was barely aware she’d spoken them aloud. She looked up into Nathaniel’s eyes. “God is still teaching me that He’ll direct my path if I simply place my circumstances in His hands.”

  Nathaniel cradled her fingers and lifted them to his lips. “That’s something we’ll learn together.”

  Harvest of Hope

  To my prayer team: Ann, Diane, Pam, Chris, Ginger, Tracy, Angela, and of course, The Posse—Kim, Eileen, Margie, Darlene, and Kristian. Thank you for praying me through the writing of this book. We serve an awesome God.

  Chapter 1

  Covington Plantation Near Juniper Springs, Georgia April 1860

  Auralie Covington’s heart pounded within her rib cage as she clutched the letter and dashed up the grand staircase with unladylike haste. The pattern of the ornate carpet swam before her, but not from tears of joy. She closed her bedchamber door and stared at her name penned across the front of the letter. The masculine script sent an involuntary chill through her. Perry had never written to her before. In the past, his communications were always sent to Father who told her what he thought she should know. Judging by the rumpled condition of the paper and the water-stained corner, the missive had experienced an arduous journey before reaching the Covington Plantation in the foothills of the north Georgia mountains. Oh, how she prayed the letter didn’t say what she dreaded. She took a deep breath and broke the wax seal.

  Dear Miss Covington,

  “Miss Covington?” Auralie snorted. “We’re engaged to be wed and he calls me Miss Covington. What am I to call him? Mr. Bolden?” The irony of her own statement pricked her. Was it not a paradox to feel such trepidation upon receiving a letter from the man she was to marry? Perhaps if the man had been one of her choosing, her emotions wouldn’t be in upheaval.

  The moisture that had stained the outside of the carefully folded and sealed document blurred the ink in various places within the message, including the date her intended had written it. She glanced over the penned lines that remained unaffected by the water stain.

  …leaving London sometime in…If destiny smiles on the ship, the voyage ought not to take more than…I trust your father has impressed upon you the importance of our union. Therefore…

  Auralie held the letter closer to the light streaming in the window and squinted, trying to decipher the smeared handwriting. Since she’d been informed four years ago that an agreement joining her in marriage to the son of one of the most powerful landowners in Georgia had been reached, her father had kept her apprised of Perry Bolden’s European travels. As long as Bolden remained an entire ocean away, Auralie’s apprehension of the arranged unholy wedlock stayed tucked away like a postponed sentence of death. Upon receipt of his letter, however, anxiety exploded through her. The letter echoed the words of her father, leaving no room for doubt that her marriage to Perry Bolden was her duty.

  She scanned down the page at the legible parts of the letter. Perry’s expectations of her were spelled out like a list of instructions. Between blotches of smeared ink, he described in detail his demands for their engagement soiree, including the names of certain influential people he considered essential to the guest list. Of course, she was to make herself available upon his return to Georgia, and he went so far as to insist she wear a gown of pink silk upon his arrival.

  “Pink! I hate pink.”

  She tossed the letter on her dressing table and parted the lace curtains at the window. The ancient oaks and sweeping willows outside her window wafting in the spring breeze didn’t lend their usual calming effect as she bit her bottom lip and twisted the sapphire ring on her right hand. She could no longer pretend the marriage wasn’t going to happen. Her destiny was sealed. She now knew how a trapped animal felt.

  Her gaze fastened on to a mockingbird perched in the massive oak tree. After it sang through its repertoire, it took flight, making Auralie long to do the same.

  “‘Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then I would fly away, and be at rest.’”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Mammy’s soft response caused Auralie to jump as she turned and clapped her hand over her heart. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  The creases in the face of the ageless black woman deepened. “Them be mighty comfortin’ words from our Lawd’s Book. Psalm fifty-five, verse six.”

  Auralie instinctively glanced toward the door that stood ajar. Teaching Mammy to read had been a precious secret between them since she was a chi
ld.

  Mammy glanced over her shoulder as well. “Ain’t nobody creepin’ up behind.” She gestured to the letter on the dressing table. “That be from Mistuh Bolden, ain’t it?”

  Auralie picked it up and sighed. “I haven’t laid eyes on him since we were children. I can’t even remember what he looks like. Mammy, what am I going to do?”

  The woman who was more of a loving parent to Auralie than a slave drew her into a tight embrace. “Ah don’ know, chile. We’s gonna pray on it. My God ain’t so weak He be caught by surprise.” She set Auralie away from her and cupped her chin. “But right now, yo’ fathah want to see you in his study.”

  Auralie’s eyes widened and she clasped her hands together, her fingers working the sapphire ring to and fro. “What does he want? Does he know this letter arrived?”

  “Don’ know that either, chile, but iffen you keep twistin’ on that there ring, you gonna wrench yo’ finger off.” Mammy patted Auralie’s shoulder. “You best be goin’, now. Massah Covington don’ like to be kep’ waitin’.”

  A tremor quivered through Auralie. If Father demanded to see the letter, she’d have no choice but to hand it over.

  The morning rays filtered through the trees and sparkled off the dew that still clung to the grass. Auralie gathered her billowing yellow skirt and stepped into the carriage, Mammy close at her heels. After Father had blustered about the illegible, water-stained parts of Perry’s letter yesterday, he’d admonished Auralie to ready herself for the man’s return to the States. If she had to endure one more lecture about Perry’s extensive European education, his family’s money, or the honor he’d bestowed on her by consenting to the marriage arrangement, she’d surely be ill. But a smile tweaked her lips when she recalled how she’d nodded in feigned agreement to everything her father had said and then asked permission to visit the dressmaker in Juniper Springs to commission three new gowns. Father had mumbled something about looking her best and waved her away in dismissal.

 

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