Counterfeit Courtship (17 page)

“He wants me to tell you more than that.”

Ellie glanced out the front window. Perhaps Graham would come home soon and relieve her from what would surely prove to be an embarrassing discussion.

“He asked me to tell you his story.”

At that, Ellie turned her attention to Lilah May. “I didn't know he had a story.”

“It's not a happy one. I remember when he first started courting.”

Uncle Amos—courting?

“He has loved one woman his entire life.”

That couldn't be. But she'd never known Lilah May to make up stories. “Who is it?”

“Ophelia Adams.”

“Miss Ophelia!” Ellie leaned forward to catch every nuance of this suddenly interesting conversation. “But she married Willis Adams. What happened?”

“Mister Willis went to war in Mexico. He was in love with Miss Ophelia and wanted to marry her before he left. But her parents, Mister Graham's grandparents, wouldn't let her. She was only sixteen.”

“That's not so young to marry.”

“No, ma'am, but Miss Ophelia's mother thought it was too young to be a widow. So she and Miss Ophelia's daddy made them wait and forbade Mister Willis from having contact with her while he was away.”

“They thought they were insulating her from pain, didn't they? But I can imagine that it didn't work out that way.”

“It worked out fine for Miss Ophelia. Mister Willis courted her through the mail, sending his letters to Mister Amos to give to her. He also asked Mister Amos to squire his girl around town to make it look like she was courting with him instead of Mister Willis.”

All at once, Ellie saw what was coming. “And my uncle fell in love with her.”

“He never told her. But he never found another woman, and now that Miss Ophelia is a widow, Mister Amos is sick and can't court her.” Lilah May ran her hand down her skirt, smoothing it. “Usually, when a man and woman spend that much time together, one or both of them fall in love. Mister Amos is afraid you'll fall in love with the colonel, and you'll get hurt.”

A tight laugh erupted from Ellie's throat. “I'm not falling in love with him. And he certainly isn't in love with me.”

“I got eyes,” Lilah May said with that you-can't-fool-me look of hers. “Neither one of you has any experience in love, except that time before he left for West Point. So you don't know how to hide your feelings. I can see you're in love.”

“No, you're wrong.” Wasn't she? “We were children when he went away. As for now, yes, Graham is a handsome man—and strong and gentle and dependable and honorable, but anybody can see that. It doesn't mean I'm in love with him.”

Lilah May wasn't convinced. Ellie could see it in her eyes. “You're right. But what happened to you eight years ago, the day he went away?”

Ellie expelled a sharp breath, remembering how she hadn't come out of her room for four days. She'd cried until she'd feared her heart would break, and then she'd feared it wouldn't and she would continue to live. Ellie had numbed since then, had pushed the memory so far back in her mind that it frightened her to recall it now. Those dark days and tormented nights had been far worse than even the day her mother died. At least Mother was out of her misery. With Graham, there'd seemed to be no release from it.

She clawed her way out of that memory and back to the present. When Lilah May passed her a handkerchief, Ellie realized her cheeks were wet with tears. At the time, she'd seemed to have no choice but to refuse Graham. She couldn't have been wrong, could she?

“How would a person know for sure?”

“I don't know about that. But it seems to me that if you imagine what your life would be like without him, and you can't stand the thought of it, that would be a clue.”

Graham strode up the walk then. His posture, his gait, told her something had changed—something big.

Lilah May glanced out the window too, and then she stood and started upstairs. “There's one sure way to know.”

“What's that?”

“When you give away money you need so someone else can live his dream of being a planter, you're in love.”

The little snoop.
“You looked over my shoulder when I was figuring the cotton sale in Uncle Amos's room.”

“I did, but I didn't have to. You were muttering the whole time you were figuring.”

Ellie had to break that bad habit. “How does Uncle Amos bear not having the woman he loves?”

“Same way you do. He pretends it didn't happen. It worked until this courtship thing came up with you and the colonel. He's perturbed about it because it makes him think about his past.” Lilah May scurried up the stairs.

Imagine what your life would be without him.
What would she do if Graham left again? Never to see him again—what would her life be like?

She opened the door. He met her on the gallery, his eyes gray in the softer light, his face strong with a shadow of evening beard, his bearing solid and gentle.
Life without him—

Her breath caught at the thought.

“Ellie? Are you all right?”

What had he seen in her face? She shook off the thought and scrambled to think of something that would take the focus from her discomfort.

“You sent the wires?” Having finally come up with a conversation topic, she breathed deep of the sweetness of relief. “What have you heard in return?”

He gestured at her dress. “I assume you want me to come in and tell you, but I doubt I could get past those skirts.”

She moved inside so he could pass through the doorway, unhindered by hoopskirts. On second thought, she needed to examine these new emotions of hers before she could trust herself to be alone with him and not blurt out something silly. The front gallery would be safer, out in public as it was. She waved her trembling hand at him as if shooing a fly. “There's a nice breeze. Let's sit outside.”

He hesitated. “We don't want anyone to overhear. I have some rather private things to tell you—”

“Go, go!” She pushed at his shoulder.

“Ellie, what is the matter with you?”

So much for not sounding silly. “It's just that...I want so much to sit outside.”

Graham shook his head, his unbelief all over his face. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something, but he merely stepped back and gestured for her to come outside.

“I sold the cotton to Mister Owen Bradley of San Antonio.” He held out her chair and then sat next to her—a little too close, to her thinking. He handed her a small paper sack. “For a modest celebration.”

She opened the sack. Pralines.

He remembered.

“They used to be your favorite.”

“And they still are. I haven't allowed myself the luxury in a long time.” She selected one for him, then reached in again for hers. She took a nibble of the nutty, creamy confection. “It's even better than I remember.”

Graham ate half of his in one bite. “We used to think nothing of buying a sack of these every day. Now it's a treat. Things have changed in eight years.”

Yes, they had. “I don't mind, though. Sometimes life seems sweeter when we have to do without. We appreciate the treats more.”

“You're going to appreciate my news too. We're putting the first load of cotton on a steamboat at seven tomorrow morning, and the next one at noon. We have to ship as much as the boats can hold every day in order to empty the barns for the new crop.” He ate the rest of his candy. “The cotton will travel to New Orleans via steamboat, then the Louisiana–Texas Railroad—your railroad—will take it to Mister Bradley in San Antonio. From there, Bradley will transport it to Mexico.”

“Fine.” She struggled to stay focused on his words. What had possessed her to have such a conversation with Lilah May right before Graham got back? But who would have known their talk would affect her as it did? She needed time to think.

“I'd say it's more than fine. I haggled for a great price.”

He was right—this news was more than fine. And Ellie had to leave behind this foolishness. She drew a great breath and tried to clear her mind. “What price did you get?”

“Forty-two thousand for the whole lot.”

She clapped her hands together like a child. “I couldn't have gotten that much from him. He's the shrewdest of all the cotton buyers. You'll have plenty of money for pea seed.”

“When I went by Myron Sutton's place and told him we needed him to start work in the morning, he said the baby is much better today.”

“You're full of good news tonight.”

“And some not so good.” Graham paused. “The planters in the area aren't happy with us. Seems some of them have lost their workers to us, and rumor has it that more will come tomorrow.”

She took another bite of her praline. “We expected that.”

“Yes, but we didn't expect the planters to band together to set wages for the laborers. That's what they're doing tonight. They wanted us to attend, but we need to stay out of it.”

“I agree. Why would we attend a wage-setting meeting? They can do whatever they want among themselves, but we'll set our own wages. It's the only way I'll be able to make my payment to Leonard.”

At the sound of Leonard's name, Graham tensed his right hand into a fist, a cold gleam of anger sharpening his eyes. “I'm glad you think so. I have no intention of playing his game.”

There was more to this than he was telling her. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. “What else does his game involve?”

He hesitated. “Fitzwald is a gambler—has been since we were boys. He bluffs and then cries when he loses.”

A gambler...like his father. Like Ellie's father. A cold realization of Leonard's true character and the extent of his greed shot through her like ice. What chances would he take to get what he wanted? “I wish I could give him that railroad. I don't care a smidgen about it.”

“I suggested that to him this afternoon.” Graham's voice lowered, took on a dark tone. “He's not interested. He's risking everything for the big pot.”

“What do you mean? What's he risking?”

“He wants it all. Railroad, Magnolia Grove—and you.”

She cast a glance at Graham, his chiseled profile, his sturdy frame. Leonard was the only one gambling here. Even though Ellie's father was a cardsharper, she didn't believe in chance. God was on her side, she was sure of it.

By no means would she fail to pay that loan. Losing everything would kill Uncle Amos. And marrying Leonard in order to keep their property would mean losing Graham, even before he was truly hers.

No, she wasn't going to fail.

Chapter Sixteen

“M
iss Ellie, I never saw you look so beautiful. It's true what they say—you are the belle of Natchez.”

“Lilah May, you exaggerate. That's a sin.” But as Ellie sat at her dressing table the next evening and watched her maid arrange her hair for another party in Graham's honor, she realized Lilah May was right. Not that she was the belle of Natchez, but that she looked prettier than she ever had. Lilah May had taken extra pains with her hair. Her blue silk gown fit just right, and it deepened the blue of her eyes.

But there was something else, something she couldn't define...

“You got the look of a woman in love.”

Oh, dear. Not Lilah May too.
“Uncle Amos told me the same thing at supper.”

“You might as well admit it. And the colonel's got it as bad as you.”

Ellie wasn't so sure.

“You got a few minutes to rest before he gets here.” Lilah May stood back to admire her work. “Mmm-hmm. You look just right.”

“I don't know about that, but I don't feel very good.”

“You sick?”

“My stomach is turning, my jaw is quivering, my hands are shaking—”

Lilah May reached over with her pretty brown hand and patted Ellie's. “That's because your woman's wisdom is telling you that everything is changing. Your heart knows it, but your body don't know what to do with itself. You'll be all right after the colonel gets here.”

No, she wouldn't. Her heart was going to give out before he got Handsome Boy hitched to Miss Ophelia's runabout.

Lilah May closed the door as she left, and Ellie felt more alone than ever in her life. How could she know what to do about Graham? She had to be honest, to admit she loved him.

No, that wasn't honest at all. She had to admit that she still loved him. Still. After all these years.

Lord, what now? You know how it was when Father stayed away from home, no doubt gambling every night.

“I was hungry, God. Hungry!”

She fought her tears, not wanting a red and splotchy face for the party.

“When I was small, I used to get so hungry, my stomach hurt,” she whispered to the heavens. “I thought I was sick. Mother always made me drink medicine, but it was nothing but sugar water. That was all she had to give me.”

Ellie tried to imagine the pain of hearing one's child cry with hunger and having nothing to give her but sugar water. What if little Betsy was hungry, and Ellie had no food? And Betsy wasn't even her child.

What if she married Graham, and they had a child, and she couldn't feed her—

Lydia had run a mile looking for Ellie, so she could get medicine for her daughter.

“Dear Jesus, I'm so scared. What do I do?”

Of a sudden, she recalled Lilah May's words of yesterday.
Imagine what your life would be without him.

Well, she'd done that, and she hadn't liked what she'd imagined. Hadn't liked it one bit.

At the very least, the man deserved to know she loved him. If he brought up the subject. If Lilah May had been right about his feelings.

If Ellie didn't lose her nerve...

“Miss Ellie,” Lilah May called from outside her door. “You have a gentleman caller.”

Gentleman caller? Why did she say it like that? Surely it wasn't Leonard. Lilah May would run him off in less time than it would take to swat a fly.

Ellie raced to the door and opened it. “Who is it?”

Her maid looked at her as if she'd lost her senses. “Colonel Graham Talbot from next door. Remember him—muscular man with dark hair and green eyes?” she said with the bite of sarcasm. “Who did you think?”

Ellie turned back to the dressing table and snatched her fan—the one with the crape myrtle blossoms painted on it. Somehow, having her myrtle fan with her tonight gave her a measure of comfort.

She descended the stairs with trepidation at first. Halfway down, she caught sight of Graham. Standing by the door, he held her gaze as she slowed her steps even more, wanting to prolong the moment. That first sweet moment when she saw him as the man she loved.

She'd missed seeing him in his uniform. Everything about him—his stance, the set of his mouth, his sturdy hands—radiated strength mixed with gentleness.

And oh, sweet myrtle, he was handsome.

Then he smiled. One of the few true smiles she'd seen since he'd come home. It brought out the dimples in his cheeks and made him irresistible. Her heart pounded as she came closer, touched his arm.

“You're beautiful.”

She saw it in his eyes as his smile faded to a look of awe. He did have feelings for her. But was Lilah May right? Was it love?

Ellie swallowed hard and ran her hand down his arm, caught his hand. She smiled and blinked, trying to keep her sudden swell of tears from obscuring her vision of him.

“I thought we'd walk tonight,” he said, but she feared her heart might burst from the exertion, as hard as it pounded now.

As they left the house, the sun began to set in a cloudy sky, casting a rose-colored glow on the white columns of Graham's house next door. The faintest breeze wafted and blew little tendrils of her hair across her cheek, tickling it.

Graham cleared his throat, his arm tensing a bit under her hand. “Ellie, I can't go to that silly party. We need to talk.” He stopped in the middle of the brick sidewalk. “But we can't go to my house because Aunt Ophelia will ask a hundred questions.”

“Lilah May would do the same at mine.” She thought a moment. “Our old hideout?”

His flicker of a grin told her she'd chosen right. “It's still there?”

“I invited you there the first day you were home. Remember?”

“So you did. In your note.”

She sensed that he was struggling with his thoughts, and so she held her peace as they approached the river bluff. They strolled up the uneven, weedy brick walk to the abandoned Reynolds mansion and then to the backyard.

Their cast iron bench, the black paint now chipped, still sat in the middle of the marble-slab arbor floor. Wisteria vined all around and formed an outdoor room that sheltered them from the neighborhood's eyes and ears.

Graham sat next to her and pulled a small sack from his pocket. He opened it and offered her a praline, then ate one himself while gazing off toward the river. “This river is one of the few things that hasn't changed.”

“We've had four hard years of war.” She bit into her candy, savoring the sweetness.

“It's more than that. Over the past few days that I've been home, everything has changed for me—in my heart, my mind. Life has begun to make sense again. I don't know how my whole world changed so fast, how I healed so quickly. But I know you were a part of it.” He angled a little, moving slightly closer. His eyes turned smoky as he cupped her cheek with his hand.

He kissed her then, entwining his fingers in her hair, smelling of a woodsy cologne and tasting of sweet pralines and comfort and security...

But they had no security.

She kissed him back anyway, tried to push aside her fears until the warmth of his touch collided with a cold place within her—a place she'd kept guarded, protecting herself, for more years than she could count.

She pulled away and saw the questions in his eyes.

He did have feelings for her. Lilah May was right. But she'd been wrong about one important matter: Ellie was not the only one who would get hurt by this imaginary courtship.

“What is it?” As he clasped her hands, his voice deepened, dropped to a near whisper. “Tell me what's wrong. I know you care for me, Ellie.”

“It's true. I do. But everything in our world has changed.” Her words came fast and shrill. “I never would have believed Lydia Sutton would not have the means to buy food and medicine for her child.”

“It's happening all over the South. It's unfortunate, but people have to move forward, go on with life, with—”

When he paused, she looked up at him, the silence poignant as she sensed he wanted to say
with love.

“Tell me what you're holding back from me, Ellie.”

“I don't know what I would do,” she said, her voice tremulous, “if I had a child and couldn't feed him.”

“The war is over now, and by the time you have a child, the economy will have leveled off.”

“What if it doesn't? What if I can't feed my own child?” She tried to blink away the tears threatening her eyes. Tears were the last thing she wanted, but for some reason, she couldn't control them. “The night of Miss Ophelia's party, you asked me why I would never marry. I've been hungry as a child, Graham. My father did not provide for us.” She saw the comprehension dawning in his eyes. “The reason I won't marry is because I'm afraid it will happen again—to me and to any child I might have. I've got to provide for myself.”

Graham paused, frowning at her words. “There's a better chance that you'd marry a man who would make sure he provided for you and the child.”

Myron Sutton's words came back to her in a flood.
I'm not too good to pick cotton.
Graham was right—some men would do anything in order to care for their families.

She shook off the thought. “But it could happen—”

“Think this through, Ellie. You don't refuse love just because you're afraid. What if someday someone gives you a child who needs you, like Noreen was given Betsy? Will you let that child go hungry because you won't take her in? Or all of us could die, and you'd have to take care of Betsy. Are you going to stop loving her because you're afraid you might get hurt?”

“I'm not afraid I'll get hurt. I'm afraid the child will.”
Just as I was.

“I think you've been fooling yourself. You're afraid of your own suffering, not the child's.”

Could that be true? Graham knew her better than anybody. Did he see a part of her heart that she'd hidden from everyone else, even herself?

With a flash of clarity, she knew he did.

The truth hit her in her middle. Graham was right, and she'd never seen it. She'd let her past determine what she'd do with her future. She covered her mouth with her hand, taking in the reality of her own falsehood. The years of deceit—when had they started, and why? With her father's betrayal? Her hunger? Her mother's passing?

Perhaps Graham recognized her lie because he'd seen it in her eyes the day she refused him. And still saw it today.

She may never understand how this change had come to her, but somehow she needed to bring it to an end, to learn to live without the lie and the fear.

Change was the one thing they could count on. Natchez—the whole South—was trying to adjust to their new way of life. The old was never coming back. Even her comfortable self-reliance and fear would have to die.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she needed help to make the first steps. “Graham, I need you to pray for me to change that. I can't do it on my own.”

“I will. And you'll overcome it. You've never failed to meet a challenge.”

“But I've never had a challenge this hard before. The fear has become so much a part of me, I don't know how to let it go without losing my sense of who I am.”

He pulled away at last and caught her hand, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “It's hard to adjust when God puts His finger on a part of your life that He wants you to surrender to Him. I felt the same way, coming home from war. Before the surrender, I felt like the war would never end. I couldn't imagine ever returning to any sort of normal life. I had gotten so used to the darkness of battle, I didn't know what to do when I came back to the light of peacetime living.”

Peace—what an appealing prospect. To be free of her fear of the past repeating itself... Ellie couldn't even imagine it.

Jesus, I confess I'm not willing to lay my deepest fear before You yet. But I'm willing for You to make me willing...

* * *

Dear God, please watch over this ship and its cargo. Everything depends on it.

On the river bluff with Ellie the next morning, Graham watched their first load of cotton start south for New Orleans.

Ellie's face glowed like the sunrise. He could watch her rapt expression all day as she enjoyed the sight of her cotton ready to float down the river.

If only things were different. At the moment, Graham's biggest challenge in life was waiting for God to build trust in her. And for his circumstances to change.

Almost as hard was knowing the sweetness of Ellie's kiss and holding himself back from it. Loading all those cotton bales himself, singlehandedly, would have been easier.

While everything else in his life was changing fast, he had to go slow with Ellie. She was right that he had no ability to provide for her. Just as she feared.

And what was he supposed to do about that? If only he were loading cotton of his own alongside Ellie's. That would make all the difference. But perhaps this shipment would make everything else start to fall into place. As soon as the buyer sent the payment to Ellie's bank in a couple of days, she'd have money to pay her loan to Fitzwald. And with his cut, Graham could buy seed for Ashland Place. “It feels good to see this boat off, knowing it's full to capacity with your cotton.”

“It's going to work out, isn't it?” she said in a tone that made him wonder if she was stating a fact or asking a question. “If it doesn't, what will you do? Will you regret trying to help me?”

Was she thinking of Fitzwald and his threats? If so, she needed to stop, now. “You've helped me more than I've helped you. When I came home, I was strung as tight as your secret-message pulley. Without you to help me make the change from officer to civilian, I'd have been a mess.”

“You were a mess.” She smiled. “What about regrets—if it doesn't work out?”