Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga)

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Appomattox Saga Omnibus 2: Three Books In One (Appomatox Saga) Page 34

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Humph!” she echoed, and when the pair came into the parlor, she carefully examined Prudence’s rosy complexion and bright eyes. Then she fixed her sharp gaze on Dortch, noting the pleased look on his face. Though she dared not use a third “humph”—even she recognized this would be overly critical—she did sit straighter, and she nodded only slightly when Dortch said, “Good afternoon, Sister Gatz. Has thee had a good visit with Grace?”

  “We’ve had an edifying time.”

  “Oh, Grace!” Prudence’s dark blue eyes were sparkling, and she looked fresh and pretty in a simple, well-fitted tan dress. “The circus was in town! We saw an elephant, didn’t we, Clyde?”

  “Yes, we did.” He came over and sat down in the oak rocker. He was looking handsome and dapper in a gray suit and his flat-crowned hat, which he left on his head as was the fashion of Quakers. He looked pleased and happy, and there was a satisfied look on his handsome face as he laughed. “Does thee know what I thought when I saw the beast, Grace?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I thought, There is no such animal as that!”

  Prudence giggled suddenly, adding, “The great beast stopped right in front of us and put his—his nose out for something to eat. It was so scary, Grace! But Clyde wasn’t a bit afraid of him. He just laughed and gave the creature the last of my sandwich!”

  Clyde became aware of Sister Gatz’s scowl and said quickly, “I wish thee had been there, Grace. I thought we might go back tomorrow and see the circus.”

  “Oh, can I go?” Prudence demanded. “The sign on the side of one of the wagons said there was an ‘Ethiopian Eccentricity.’ I can’t imagine what that is!”

  “Nothing that thee should be seeing, I’m sure, Sister Prudence!” With that phrase, Sister Gatz firmly settled the question of a trip to the circus!

  Prudence glared at the woman and would have argued, but Dortch said quickly, “Prudence, why don’t you show Grace the material?”

  Grace put aside her knitting, and soon she and Prudence were examining the fine white silk Prudence had found—but the beautiful material pleased Sister Gatz even less than the idea of an Ethiopian Eccentricity. “I don’t recall ever seeing one of our young women wearing such finery,” she sniffed. Getting to her feet, she looked at Dortch, then at Prudence, and then at the glistening silk in Grace’s hands.

  “Humph!” she snorted. “I’ll take my leave of thee.”

  When she was safely out of hearing, Clyde winked wickedly at the two women, then bowed in the direction of the door. “Thee could not have taken anything from me that I would be more willing to give,” he said mockingly. Prudence giggled, but Grace shook her head.

  “She’s a very unhappy woman,” Grace said.

  Prudence removed her bonnet and shook her mass of dark curls in a careless manner. She had little patience with the ways of older people and said sharply, “She’s too nosy and a terrible gossip.” Then she dismissed the old woman from her mind. “I couldn’t find any ribbon that I liked. I’m going to change, and then Clyde and I are going to Ellen Dorsey’s and see if she has any.”

  Clyde said suddenly, “Grace, you come and we’ll look at the ribbon.”

  Grace looked at him with a slight surprise. “Why—all right, Clyde. But Prudence will have to make the final decision.” She rose and moved to get her cloak and bonnet, pausing long enough to stop and give her younger sister an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I’ll just tell Father where we’re going.”

  “Oh, I’ll stay home if thee is going,” Prudence said. “It doesn’t take two to pick out a ribbon!”

  She spoke sharply, causing Grace to stare after her sister as she flounced out of the room without another word. But Grace was accustomed to Prudence’s sudden mood changes, and she said only, “I’m ready, Clyde.”

  When they got to the buggy, Dortch attempted to help Grace into the wagon, but she was unaccustomed to such attention and pulled herself into the seat with a quick ease that left him standing there looking slightly foolish. Grace saw the displeasure in his eyes and thought, I’ve got to learn to wait—to let him help me.

  When they pulled up in front of the dressmaker’s shop, she forced herself to wait as Clyde stepped out of the buggy and came to her side. She took his hand and stepped out, smiling at him. He was a well-built man but not tall, and though he did his best to hide it from Grace, it touched his vanity that she was able to look him squarely in the eye. He forced a smile to his lips. “Let’s go get some ice cream after we get the ribbon, Grace.”

  “All right.”

  They shared a pleasant time. Grace examined every ribbon that Ellen Dorsey had, but in the end could only say, “Thee and Prudence will have to decide.”

  “Why, thee has a good eye for color, Sister Grace,” Mrs. Dorsey said a little impatiently. She was an attractive widow of thirty-five who supported her three children by her needle. She had followed the courtship of the young couple before her avidly—as had practically every other member of the community. Now as she stood there with ribbons draped over her arm, she studied the young pair, then frowned slightly as if something seemed not quite right to her. Carefully she said, “Prudence came to talk to me about the dress, but thee needs to come in so we can decide on it.”

  Grace agreed, but when she and Clyde left the dressmaker’s shop, Mrs. Dorsey went next door at once, where she told her neighbor of the visit. Shaking her head, she said with asperity, “Sister Grace had better give more attention to this wedding. Why, her sister Prudence acts as though she’s the one getting married!”

  Blissfully unaware of the currents of speculation around her, Grace enjoyed the afternoon, especially the visit to the ice cream parlor, where she ate two helpings of ice cream. Afterward she walked along the streets of the small town with Dortch, speaking to those they passed. She remembered to let Dortch help her into the buggy, and when they got back to the farm, she said, “I’ve got to get supper ready, Clyde. Why doesn’t thee sit and talk to Father while thee waits?”

  “All right, Grace.” When they reached the house, however, Amos Swenson was napping. So Clyde sat in the parlor for a time, reading a week-old paper, then grew restless. He wandered outside to stroll around the farm, admiring the sturdy stone barn and the smaller outbuildings. The stock were all sleek and healthy, the fences all tightly knit, the fields all laid out in a carefully planned design. He spoke to the two hired men, Jed Satterfield and Benny George, discussing the state of the crops and the animals. Both men, Dortch knew, were hard workers who did a good job of handling the work Swenson could no longer do himself.

  Satterfield, a tall, gangling man of thirty, gave Dortch a careful look, then said, “Guess you won’t be needing one of us when you and Sister Grace get married.”

  “Oh, there’ll be plenty of work for three men, Jed,” Dortch said quickly. “I’ve got some new ideas that’ll be taking up a lot of my time, so thee and Benny can count on staying on.”

  As Dortch wandered away from the barn, he decided to head for the pasture to look over the cattle grazing by the creek. As he walked, a sensation of satisfaction came over him. He had been unhappy at home since his father’s stroke. His older brother had little of Clyde’s lighthearted approach to life. In direct contrast to Clyde, Daniel was heavy in body and mind, caring little for anything except his religion and the farm. He put in long, hard days and expected everyone else to do the same.

  Clyde, however, did not hold with such a strict outlook on life, and hard feelings had developed between the two brothers. Mrs. Dortch had spoiled her younger son, and her husband had been swayed by her so that he had not curbed Clyde’s careless ways. As long as Mr. Dortch had been in charge, he had let Clyde slide by with his work—but now Clyde’s father was helpless, and Daniel had laid his iron hand to everything on the farm. Especially Clyde. The tension had become so intense that Daniel had finally said, “If thee wants to be a gentleman of leisure, thee will have to find another place to do it, Brother Clyde!�


  Now, walking about the Swenson farm, breathing air that was fresh as wine, Clyde smiled to himself. “Indeed, Brother Daniel, thee was right,” he muttered with some satisfaction as he considered what his days would hold after his marriage to Grace. He strolled along the pathway that led to the lower pasture, enjoying himself immensely. He was not a man to think much of the future, but as he walked along and counted the fat cows dotting the landscape, he thought of how pleasant it would be to escape Daniel’s harsh demands. Here, things would be different! A man wouldn’t have to kill himself working, not with two good hands like Benny and Jed!

  He thought suddenly of Grace and shook his head in an involuntary gesture. She was a fine girl, of course—just not very exciting. Never thought I’d wind up marrying a preacher, he thought, a wry smile on his full lips. She’s no beauty—but she’ll take care of a husband well enough. He thought of the good food and the other advantages of being master of this fine farm and shrugged slightly. A man can’t have everything, I guess. Besides, Grace will never give me any trouble. She’s too glad to get a husband for that!

  Suddenly Clyde heard his name called. He looked up to see Prudence standing beside the creek, waving at him. Immediately his mood lightened, and he hurried across the field to her. “What are you doing out here, Prudence?”

  “Picking flowers.” She motioned toward a basket lying on the ground beside the creek, filled with yellow, blue, and red wildflowers. She was wearing a thin white cotton dress, and the beauty of her figure startled Dortch. She caught his expression, understood it for what it was, and smiled. “Did thee have a good time in town?” she asked demurely.

  Dortch shrugged carelessly. “I guess so. Grace said that thee would have to help pick out the ribbons.”

  “What else did thee do?”

  “Oh, we got some ice cream.” Dortch made a slight gesture of depreciation. “It wasn’t a thrilling trip, I guess.” He smiled at her, his teeth white against his skin. “Not nearly as much fun as seeing an elephant.”

  The memory of their visit to Riverton lit Prudence’s face. “Oh, that was fun, wasn’t it, Clyde! I’d give anything if we could go see the actual show!”

  Prudence may not have known what an attractive picture she made as she stood there looking up at him. She was petite, small, and well formed—and very pretty. It did something for Dortch’s vanity to have her look up at him as she was, her eyes bright with excitement. It made him feel much taller, and he suddenly found himself saying, “I’d like to take thee there, Prudence—” Then he caught himself and added quickly, “But of course, that wouldn’t look good.”

  “Oh, pooh! I get absolutely sick of having to care about what people think!”

  “Prudence!”

  She shook her head angrily, her curls bouncing about in a most appealing manner. “Well, I don’t care if that shocks thee. Sometimes I think I’m in a jail or something. A girl can’t even smile at a young man without those—those old vultures starting to gossip!” She looked up at Clyde, her lips drawn into a pout. “There! Now thee will think I’m a brazen hussy, won’t thee?”

  Clyde laughed suddenly. “No, I won’t, because I feel exactly the same way most of the time.” This was true, for Clyde’s religion was not terribly deep. He was the most liberal of liberal Quakers and had often wished he was an Episcopalian so that he could have a little breathing room. As a rule, he kept this heresy to himself, but now that Prudence had spoken so frankly, he felt secure enough to agree.

  “I’m not much of a Quaker, I guess,” he said ruefully. “I just can’t see anything wrong with having a little fun. After all, there’s dancing and singing in the Bible, isn’t there?”

  Prudence nodded at once. “Yes, there is, but can thee imagine what Father would say if we went to a dance?” Her eyes gleamed wickedly, and she giggled. “We’d be read out of meeting!”

  “Well, I don’t much care.” Clyde grinned. “We could have some fun—and then we could repent and get back in.”

  “Oh, Clyde, that’s just awful!” Prudence tried to look shocked, but her amusement won out. “Come on, thee can help me pick some flowers. We’ll decide what wicked thing we’ll do to get put out of the meeting.…”

  For the next hour, Clyde Dortch had one of the most enjoyable times of his life. He liked sprightly young women and had not known that this youngest Swenson girl was so lively and clever. The two of them wandered over the fields, picking flowers from time to time, but mostly talking and laughing.

  By the time they got back to the creek, the sun was turning the water red with afternoon beams. They stood there admiring it until Clyde said, “I guess we’d better get to supper.” Regret was heavy in his voice. He turned to the girl standing close beside him. “This has been nice, Prue. We’ll have to pick flowers more often together.”

  Prudence stood before him and suddenly gave voice to a thought that had been lurking inside her for some time. “Clyde, you’re so different from Grace. How will thee ever—?” When Prudence broke off uncertainly, Clyde understood what she was trying to say.

  “How will Grace and I get along?”

  “Well—she’s so religious!”

  “And I’m not.” Dortch nodded slowly. He had thought of this at length but had arrived at no good answers. He was honest enough to admit his faults and knew that he would be cheating Grace Swenson out of what every man should bring to a marriage—an honest love. He’d fought this battle out, however, and justified his course by telling himself that since Grace wasn’t likely to get any sort of a husband other than him, he was actually doing her a service. Even so, he was realistic enough to understand that he would not be entirely happy in their relationship. He had been trying to blot this out of his mind by telling himself that it would be an easy life and that he would be relieved from the drudgery of work that he was now doomed to.

  Now, though, as he looked down into Prudence’s sweet face, he suddenly became serious. The sun in the west cast shadows on his clean-cut features, and he spoke quietly and honestly—something he hadn’t done much of lately! “I’ll be giving Grace something,” he said quietly. “She’ll have a husband—and that is something she never thought to have.”

  Prudence was a quick girl. She read into Dortch’s words what lay beneath them. “But what about thee, Clyde?” With an impulsive gesture, she moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm. Looking up into his eyes, she whispered, “What will thee get?”

  Dortch looked down at Prudence and said evenly, “Most people say I’m getting a good farm out of it.”

  But Prudence, to his relief, didn’t even answer that. Her features softened, and she whispered, “Thee will be a lonesome man, Clyde.” There was an air of sadness about her as she spoke. “And that’s not right—because thee is a man who needs loving and fun.”

  As Prudence stood looking up at him with such an air of sweetness and concern, Clyde suddenly was acutely aware of her youth and beauty. He had thought of her as a pretty girl who would grow up someday…but now, in the silence of the evening air, as she looked up at him with her lips slightly parted, he knew that she was already a woman.

  Almost without meaning to, he moved to put his arms around her and let his lips fall on hers. She was soft and yielding, and he felt the pressure of her arms around his neck. Her embrace stirred him as nothing else had ever done. And he was aware that she was stirred, as well, for she clung to him, holding him fast.

  Finally she pulled away, and her voice was unsteady as she said, “Clyde—we shouldn’t—!”

  “No, I guess not,” he said huskily.

  She saw that he was half ashamed of kissing her, and it was part of Prudence’s charm that she knew how to make people feel better. She gave him a dimpled smile and said in a bright voice, “Well, that’s one kiss Grace won’t get!”

  Clyde could not refrain from smiling. “Someday you’re going to keep a man hopping, Prudence. The man thee gets will never know exactly what thee is going to say or do nex
t.”

  Struggling to conceal the tumult Clyde’s kiss had stirred in her, she said, “It’s good for a man to be teased. Keeps him on his toes.” She picked up the basket of flowers, then said, “Come on, I’ll race thee to the house!”

  They returned just as Grace came out on the porch. “I was coming to call you two for supper.” Her eyes fell on the flowers, and she smiled. “Put them in the blue vase, Prudence. They’ll look nice on the table.”

  “Clyde helped me,” Prudence said quickly. She smiled, adding, “He’s a good flower picker.” She left and went to look for the vase, and Clyde said quickly, “Didn’t mean to stay out so long, Grace.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you and Prudence had some time together,” Grace said at once. “She gets lonely out here sometimes. Thee’ll be good company for her after we’re married.”

  Clyde had the grace to look uncomfortable, and that night at supper he was quieter than usual. The talk came, as it always did, to the War Between the States. They were all saddened by it, for Quakers, who were opposed to all violence, were particularly grieved over a civil war.

  “I don’t think it will last long,” Clyde remarked. “The Rebels whipped us so badly at Bull Run that people won’t stand for going on with the campaign.”

  “I don’t think that’s the way it will go,” Amos disagreed. “The Union was beaten in that battle, but the people want slavery outlawed. And they don’t want the Union broken up by secession. No, this new president won’t let it drop. It’ll be a long war, I’m afraid.”

  Clyde prepared to leave shortly after supper. “Got to get an early start in the morning,” he said, excusing himself. Grace went with him out on the porch, where he turned and said, “It was a fine supper, Grace.”

  “I’m glad thee enjoyed it, Clyde.”

  Dortch had a sudden thought and moved closer to Grace. She looked at him with quick apprehension in her eyes—he intended to kiss her. He had done so only twice thus far, and both times had been rather perfunctory affairs.

 

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