The Planter's Daughter

by Michelle Shocklee

  “Mornin’, Mistah Brantley, suh. I hopes I ain’t ’stirbing you.” She flashed him a toothless grin.

  “Morning.” He ran a hand through his unruly hair. His voice sounded gravelly even to his own ears. A stiff cup of coffee would help, but he was loathe to go anywhere near the big house until he’d figured out his next move.

  “I won’t keep you, it bein’ yo’ day off an’ all. But I wanted ta bring you this ointment I has to he’p with yo’ leg.” She pointed to his injured thigh. “It real good fo’ takin’ da pain outta them muscles an’ sech.”

  “An ointment?”

  “Yassuh.” She grinned again. “Da good Lawd done give me a gift for makin’ healin’ potions an’ sech. I seen you rubbin’ dat leg of yourn, and limpin’ when da pain is bad. Dis here ointment soak in real good an’ make that throbbin’ go ’way.”

  She held out a small clay pot with a dark mixture inside. Seth accepted it, still confused by the unusual offering.

  “Now, it made o’ roots an’ growin’ things, so it might stain yo’ trousers.” She turned as though leaving. “Once you got it on yo’ leg, jest put a bit o’ cloth ’round it. Should be fine.”

  Seth stood staring at her retreating back, touched by the old woman’s thoughtfulness. She’d noticed him limp and wanted to help. A slave had never done anything like that for him. No one had, in fact. He stepped onto the porch. “Thank you, Mammy.”

  She turned and nodded. “We all God’s chillens, Mistah Brantley. I do for you same as I do fo’ my own people.” She started to leave then turned again. “You welcome ta come join us’n’s service this mornin’. Goin’ ta start soon ’nough over yonder in da chapel. I ’spect Missy Ellis be da on’y one dat come from da big house, what with all the doin’s an’ goin’s on up der last night.”

  His ears perked up. “Miss Ellis comes to your services?”

  Mammy smiled. “Shore ’nough, she do. Jest like her Mama done. Massa Ellis an’ Massa George come time ta time, but ain’t reg’lar like Missy.”

  The old woman couldn’t know how her invitation poured hope into Seth’s wounded heart. If he could just get Adella alone and tell her how he felt, then together they could go to her father and explain why she couldn’t marry Brevard.

  “I just might do that. Come to the service, I mean.”

  A sly grin creased her already wrinkled face. “I ’spect you will, Mistah Brantley. I ’spect you will.”

  A short time later, he trailed some distance behind the slaves as they made their way to the small log building tucked in the trees near the creek. Already a song had started among them.

  “Children of the Heavenly King,

  As we join and let us sing.

  Sing our Savior, worthy of praise.

  Glory in His work and ways,

  We are traveling home to God

  In the way our fathers trod.

  Christ our advocate is made.

  Christ our advocate is made.”

  The soulful sound echoed Seth’s somber mood. He wasn’t much of a churchgoer himself, but his ma and pa made certain their children were God-fearing. Bible reading took place each evening after the supper dishes were cleaned, and though Seth hadn’t always paid attention to the words his father read aloud, he believed what he heard.

  “Christ our advocate is made.”

  He wondered if the slaves understood what they were singing. Since it was against the law to teach a Negro to read and write, he questioned how they held church services without Bible readings and preachers who’d been taught in seminary schools back East. Did they understand things like salvation and eternal life? Even he didn’t grasp everything the Good Book said, so how could an uneducated person comprehend something so complicated?

  Approaching the small building, he felt out of place and stood back while the others filed through the door. Some nodded a greeting to him. Most simply ignored him. A few minutes passed without any sign of Adella. He hoped Mammy knew what she was talking about in saying Adella never missed a service. He also hoped that if she did come, she’d come alone. Yet it wouldn’t surprise him for Brevard to feel entitled to follow her everywhere she went, now that she was his fiancée.

  The last of the slaves had entered the building, raising their voices in song, when he saw her hurrying across the lawn. Relief hit him. She was alone. He knew when she spotted him because her pace slowed and she glanced behind her, no doubt making certain no one from the house could see them.

  He didn’t move toward her but waited for her to approach. Her cheeks were pale, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. He guessed she hadn’t slept much either.

  “How are you?” He wished he could fold her into an embrace and let her know everything would be fine. Yet how could it be?

  “I don’t really know how to answer that.” Her eyes searched his. “You understand I had no idea what my father planned last night.”

  He nodded. “I know.” Glancing to the open door to the chapel, he said, “Perhaps after the service we can take a walk.”

  Surprise lit her eyes. “You’re staying for the service?”

  Seth couldn’t help but grin. “Mammy invited me.”

  Together they entered the crowded building. A dozen benches were filled with slaves singing a lively song, leaving just enough room for an aisle down the middle. Conspicuously, two places remained open on the back row even though several men stood leaning against the wall.

  Seth followed Adella to the empty seats. Already, Moses stood at the front of the room behind a crudely built pulpit, leading the singing with his deep, melodious voice.

  When the singing subsided among shouts of “Hallelujah,” Moses raised his hand to quiet the crowd. “We uns knows a thing about dat heavy load, don’t we?” he asked, receiving more shouts and uh-huh’s.

  He looked over the crowd, his eyes grazing Seth and Adella as well. “Yassum, we know ’bout heavy loads. But we don’t know nothin’ compared to the heavy load our Lawd an’ savior Jesus knowed.”

  “No, we shore don’t,” Mammy said from her place near the front.

  “Our Lawd Jesus done carried the heaviest load there is when he took our sins ’pon his shoulders. He hung there on that cross holdin’ that load. Ev’er sin there ever was. Yours. Mine. Ev’er person who ever been bo’n. Bible says he didn’t mind carryin’ that load for you an’ me. He weren’t forced ta carry it. No, siree. He wanted to.” Moses shook his head as though he couldn’t believe it. “He done it ’cuz he wanted to.”

  His eyes scanned the crowd again. “How many o’ you uns be willin’ to climb up that ol’ cross an’ hang for the sins o’ others? For the sins o’ yo’ white masters?”

  No one volunteered.

  Seth squirmed uncomfortably, being the only white man in the silent room. Preaching about sins and such in an all-white church didn’t seem so personal as it did here, surrounded by black men and women who’d been enslaved all their lives.

  “That’s what I thought,” Moses continued. “But the Book o’ John say God loved the world so much He let His Son die that’a way so’s we don’t have to. So’s we can be free from sin. We uns be the ones that deserves punishment, but Lawd Jesus done stood in our place.”

  “Then why we still get lashes?” someone asked, followed by someone else’s, “Yah, why?”

  Moses shook his head. “It ain’t da Lawd Jesus whooping us’n’s. Them folks that doin’ that sort o’ thing ain’t done the Lawd’s work. They followin’ they own will. Jesus said ‘take my yoke ’cuz it be light.’ But like them Israelites ol’ Moses brung outta Egypt … they had ta suffer some even if they was God’s chosen folks. When you’s sufferin’, just remember that Jesus knowed sufferin’ too.”

  The big man left the pulpit. Someone near the front broke into song, and other voices joined in. Adella motioned to Seth that it was time for them to leave, and he led the way back out into the sunshine.

  When they’d gone a short distance away from the chapel, Seth shoved his
hands into his pockets. “I’ve never been to a Negro service before.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect. Moses surprised me, I guess.”

  “Natalie said he used to belong to a preacher.” Adella walked beside him, heading away from the big house and prying eyes. “The old gentleman died, and Moses ended up in the slave markets in New Orleans. Mr. Langford bought him from someone who’d brought him to Texas.”

  They grew silent after that. The only sound was birds chirping in the trees as the two made their way down the path along the creek. Seth knew they could ill afford to waste precious time, despite the awkwardness of the situation. It was best to plunge in the way one jumps into a creek of chilly spring water.

  “Listen, Adella.” He turned her to face him. “Last night, before Zina came to find you, I had something I wanted to say. Something important.”

  Her wide blue eyes gazed at him with an intensity that was almost tangible. “You did?”

  With the long-awaited moment finally here, he suddenly felt tongue-tied. “Yes. When your father first hired me, I didn’t expect to be captivated by his daughter.”

  She offered a shy smile.

  Emboldened, Seth continued. “The fact is, when he said you were to be engaged to someone else, I didn’t care. I hadn’t gotten to know you yet. I hadn’t grown to care about you the way I do now.”

  Expecting a joyous response to his admission, the deepening frown that creased her brow confused him.

  “You knew?”

  His confusion increased. “That I cared for you? No, not until—”

  “I mean, you knew Papa planned to announce my engagement to Marshall Brevard?”

  Seth froze, realizing he’d made a terrible mistake. “I … Yes. No. I didn’t know he was going to announce it last night, no.”

  “But you knew about it.” A hard tone edged her words.

  “Yes,” he admitted. Any hope he held of gaining Adella’s love slipped away with the look of betrayal on her face. “Your father mentioned it the day after we returned from Galveston.”

  Her chin trembled with anger. “You kissed me knowing my father had already pledged me to another man.”

  Seth’s sins seemed to multiply by the minute. “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes. “I am such a fool.”

  “Adella, please listen.” Seth groped for words to remedy the situation if that was possible. She looked at him, but the damage he’d done shone on her face. “You were not engaged when we danced in the quarter, or when we rode down to the creek. I didn’t expect to … to …” Could he say the words?

  “To kiss me?” she wrongly guessed. Tears filled her eyes. “I thought you were different. I thought …” With a sob, she bolted past him, her skirts lifted high.

  “Adella! Wait!” He ran after her, but she quickly reached the grassy clearing visible from the house. The last thing he needed to do was create a scene for everyone to see. Luther would surely send him packing if he didn’t plan to already.

  Frustrated, Seth ended the chase. He watched her disappear around the corner of the house, away from prying eyes. As much as he longed to follow her, he had to give her time to sort things out. With a heavy heart, he prayed he’d have another opportunity to make things right between them. She needed to know he loved her.

  Turning to make his way back to his cabin, he stopped.

  The slaves must have ended their service while he and Adella spoke, because every last one of them stood outside the chapel, staring at him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Natalie and her parents departed early Monday morning to prepare for the wedding, which would take place on Saturday. A few guests remained at Rose Hill, businessmen mostly, and Papa put George in charge of their entertainment so Adella and Marshall could get better acquainted. Adella, however, refused to leave her room for two full days before Papa arrived at her door, his frustration barely contained.

  “You will dress and come downstairs this instant, Adella Rose!” His loud voice caused Hulda to skitter from the room. “I have had enough of your childish nonsense. You are a grown woman with a fiancé waiting for you. You have obligations in this house, and I will not allow you to hide in your room another moment.”

  Listening to him now, it amazed Adella he’d ever been the father she adored. The man standing before her barking angry orders was a stranger. The same stranger who’d betrothed her to a man she didn’t love. “Not that anyone has bothered to ask, but I have been ill with all that has transpired.” Which was the truth. First her father’s betrayal and then Seth’s. It was all too much for her to bear, and she’d taken to her bed with a raging headache and a broken heart.

  Papa heaved a sigh. “Spare me the melodramatics, daughter. You act as though something terrible has happened, when in fact, you have been incredibly blessed. Not many girls your age marry men with the kind of wealth Marshall possesses. You will want for nothing as his wife, and you will be the mistress of one of the largest plantations in Texas.”

  “When have I ever led you to believe those things are important to me?” She searched Papa’s face. “Mama would have loved you if you had lived in a one-room cabin, and I want to love my husband in the same manner. Money and land are not what is important.”

  “So says the spoiled girl in her comfortable home, surrounded by luxuries most people never lay eyes on.” Sarcasm dripped from each word. “I have worked hard to make this plantation what it is today. I am one of the most respected growers in the state. As my daughter, the least you can do is honor that by marrying the man I have chosen for you. A man who can further us both.”

  Hurt by his attitude, she hoped to reason with him. “Papa, I appreciate everything you and Mama have given me. I know how blessed I am. But what I am most thankful for has nothing to do with the big house or the vast lands. I’m thankful we were a happy family, full of love and goodness toward one another. Mama loved you. I can’t imagine going through life with a husband I do not love and who does not love me.”

  “Brevard is quite fond of you, Adella Rose. He is looking forward to a future with you. Love can grow from that; I assure you.”

  The way he spoke put a shadow of doubt in her mind. “Are you saying you didn’t love Mama when you married her?”

  Impatience flicked across his features. “I am saying not every marriage begins with passion and silliness. Some are born from more important agreements but still manage to be happy.”

  Adella stared at him, wondering if her parents’ marriage was perhaps not all it had seemed.

  “Luckily,” Papa continued, “Marshall is an understanding man and still wishes to marry you, despite this outrageous show of immaturity on your part.”

  “That is a shame.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “Because I do not wish to marry him.”

  Apparently, her words were too much, for Papa’s face grew red and his nostrils flared. He stalked over to her bed and yanked the covers off of her.

  “You will dress and come downstairs now, or I will drag you there myself! Mark my words. Your marriage to Brevard will take place. There are more important things at stake than inane girlish dreams.”

  Stunned, Adella gaped at him. Never before had he spoken to her with such hostility, as though she were not his daughter but a mere servant. Several tense moments ticked by before he tossed the coverlet at her and stormed from the room.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks once the door slammed behind him. Hurt beyond words, she buried her face in her hands, knowing nothing would ever be the same between them again.

  “I fear we have gotten off to a bad start, Adella Rose.”

  She and Marshall Brevard walked across the vast lawn, going nowhere in particular. She’d simply needed to get away from the house, and Marshall volunteered to accompany her. With Papa watching closely, she couldn’t refuse, even though she longed to be alone.

  “I, of course, feel responsible for the way things have come about,” he continued, his hands clasped behind his back. H
e offered a small smile when she glanced at him. “My desire all along was to court you properly and allow our relationship to grow naturally before I proposed marriage.”

  “And why didn’t you?” Adella asked, irritated by the man’s assumption that she would have accepted him as a suitor in the first place.

  He seemed taken aback by her question. “Well, because your father and I noticed Mr. Brantley’s interest in you. He seems like the kind of man who might take advantage of a young woman’s inexperience. We thought it best to announce our engagement in order to put an end to any ideas he might have regarding you and the inheritance you stand to receive in due time.”

  His presumptions ignited her fury. “You assume that a man would only be interested in me for my money?”

  Marshall’s face paled, and he scrambled for words. “No, no, of course not. That is not what I meant. Please, Adella Rose. I do not mean to insult you. You are a beautiful woman, and any man would be fortunate indeed to have you as his wife. Mr. Brantley is, as you know, without land or means. It would not be a far stretch for anyone to wonder at his motives, should he choose to seduce the plantation owner’s daughter.”

  Had he said these words to her before she spoke with Seth after the service Sunday and learned he’d known all along she was to be engaged, she might have argued further. But now she wondered if what Marshall said held more truth than she wanted to admit. Had Seth seduced her? She thought back to the night they danced under the stars in the quarter, and then to their kiss under the trees. He’d been the one to instigate their meetings, although she’d been a willing participant.

  “I see I have given you something to think about.” A look of satisfaction crossed Marshall’s features. “It is not my intent to malign Mr. Brantley. Rather, I humbly ask that you will at least give me a chance. Perhaps you would even consider visiting Le Beau, my plantation. It means ‘the beautiful’ in French, and it truly is. The trees, the marshes. I think you will like it.”

  Adella studied him, taking in his features for the first time. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, although his receding hairline and graying sideburns spoke of his age. His elegant clothes fit his trim form well, and one could almost consider him dashing, with his height and courteous smile. But try as she might, she simply could not envision herself married to him or find any sense of the passion she’d known in Seth’s arms. The mere thought of living as his wife for the rest of her life left her depressed.