Embers of Love Read online

  “It was hard to leave you here – the boys, too – but I knew it would be a hard trip for a child to endure. The South had suffered so much during the war and frankly I was afraid of what we might face.” She paused for a long pregnant silence. “I was right to be afraid. Nothing was the same. It broke my heart to see the changes, and I was glad to return to Texas. That’s when I realized, however, that my heart had changed – this was home now. There was something bittersweet in that realization.”

  “I think I’m going to miss my classes a great deal, but not the city. I prefer the quiet, easygoing pace I find here. There is a frantic spirit in the East that seems to devour everyone in its path. I will miss hours of reading and educating myself to new cultures and ideas, but I will be happy for the peace. And for the comfort that comes in knowing that people know you, recognize you, have a history with you.”

  “You needn’t stop learning just because you’re back in Angelina County,” her mother chided.

  Deborah couldn’t suppress a yawn. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I’m also right in suggesting that you need to go to bed. I want you and Lizzie to sleep as long as you can in the morning. Don’t you even think about getting out of bed before eight.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She grinned. “I doubt you could rouse me before then.” Deborah got to her feet. “At least it’s cooled off enough for sleeping.”

  “Oh, I forgot to mention that Mr. and Mrs. Perkins are coming to dinner tomorrow night. There’s some sort of business to discuss with Arjan, so you’ll probably want to be available for that. The girls are coming, too, so you can introduce Lizzie to them.”

  “Maybe with all the ladies at the table, G. W. will have more to think of than his misplaced guilt.”

  Her mother nodded and slapped at another mosquito. “Perhaps, but you let G. W. make his own choices. Nothing’s worse than being thrown into the arms of a person you’d just as soon avoid. From what you’ve told me, your friend Lizzie’s situation should have proven that, if nothing else. G. W.’s heart will lead him to love when the time is right.”

  “I just hope he’s not too focused on what isn’t true, and misses what is.”

  Her mother got to her feet and embraced Deborah. “Then we’ll just have to pray that his mind is clear.”

  –––––––

  Lizzie studied the small room from the edge of her bed. Deborah had warned her that things would be different, but it felt as if she’d stepped into another world completely. The walls had been papered with a delicate print of violet sprigs entwined with white ribbons, while a simple braided rug adorned the oak floor between the two iron-framed beds. Homemade muslin curtains hung at the windows and decidedly feminine quilts covered the beds.

  The door slowly opened and Deborah peered around it into the room. “Oh, I was afraid you were already asleep.”

  “I thought about it,” Lizzie admitted. “I’m very tired, but I wanted to make sure everything was all right with your family. I mean, what with me coming unannounced.”

  Deborah entered the room and closed the door behind her. “Of course it’s all right. Mother is delighted to have you here.” She began to undress. “I wouldn’t be surprised, however, if she doesn’t have you canning and working in the garden before noon tomorrow. I told her you wanted to learn how to be more self-sufficient, domestically speaking.”

  Lizzie smiled. “I’m glad. Do you know that I’ve never had to cook for myself? I can honestly say that I would like to learn.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place. My mother is a wonderful cook and a superb teacher. She learned a lot from Sissy, and I’m sure together they will be more than delighted to help you.”

  “Was Sissy a slave?”

  Deborah nodded and pulled pins from her long dark hair. “She was, but she and Mother were close and she came here when my grandparents came to stay with us during the war. My mother hired her on to work at our house when my grandparents went back to Georgia after the war. I doubt Mama would have hired anyone, but Sissy was sickly and needed help. She was too proud for charity, so my mother suggested Sissy teach her to cook. That way, Mother did a lot of the work, while Sissy recovered her health. It worked well.”

  “Your mother is such a gracious lady. She seems so innocent at times – yet so knowledgeable.”

  “She’s not highly educated. She attended school until she married my father when she was sixteen. But she always loved learning and regretted to a degree that she could not continue her education. Of course, women were even less encouraged to seek out schooling back then than they are now.”

  “Still, she seems very happy with her house and family. I wish my own mother might have shared such thinking. I can’t help but imagine what life might have been like had she enjoyed her domestic duties.”

  Deborah discarded her blouse and skirt and stretched before releasing the hooks on her corset. “But perhaps you wouldn’t be the dear woman I know and love now. Mother always says there’s no sense fretting over what might have been, since it can’t ever be.”

  “She’s no doubt right about that,” Lizzie admitted. “Your mother seems very wise.”

  “It’s a wisdom borne of experience.” Deborah pulled a nightgown over her head.

  Lizzie said nothing for several minutes, then gave a sigh. “I suppose then, in time, it shall come to each of us.”

  Deborah looked at her oddly as she came to her bedside. “What shall?”

  “Wisdom,” Lizzie answered. “Wisdom borne of experience.”

  “I suppose it shall, but it will have to wait until I get some sleep. Mother said she didn’t even want to hear us rousing before eight. I assured her I could very easily yield to her request.”

  Lizzie laughed. “What a chore! But as a guest, I suppose I have no choice.” She eased back onto the bed. “Tomorrow I shall begin my new life as an East Texas woman.”

  Deborah laughed. “Then Texas be warned.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Rachel and Zed Perkins arrived the following evening with daughters Annabeth and Maybelle. Both shared their father’s fair complexion and red hair. They were pretty girls, with trim waists and lovely blue eyes, but Deborah found their general silliness overwhelmed their virtues.

  The real treat of the evening was the unexpected guest that Zed and Rachel introduced as the new company doctor. Christopher Clayton was a handsome and witty man who hailed from Kansas City, but he had studied medicine at Bellevue Hospital Medical College in New York City.

  “Dr. Clayton, we are certainly happy to have you join the community,” Deborah’s mother declared as Sissy placed a large platter on the table. A succulent ham, complete with a molasses glaze, wafted a tantalizing aroma into the air. She hurried back to the kitchen and brought out another platter with two large baked chickens.

  “Sissy, come join us and meet the new doctor.”

  The woman smiled. “I gots too much to do, but I’s pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Dr. Clayton nodded. “As am I, to make yours.”

  Sissy gave a little curtsy that she reserved for strangers and headed back to the kitchen. Mother lost little time explaining to the doctor. “Sissy’s a good friend, and I hired her to work so she could help her family.”

  He seemed to understand her discomfort. “You needn’t explain to me, Mrs. Vandermark. I’m just grateful to share such fine company and food.”

  “You haven’t even tasted it yet,” Deborah teased.

  He studied her for a moment, as if appraising her features. His scrutiny made Deborah feel uncomfortable.

  “I think I shall enjoy living here,” Dr. Clayton replied. He glanced around the table. “Beautiful ladies for company, delectable food for nourishment, and intelligent conversation with the gentlemen. Who could ask for more?”

  Deborah frowned. “Perhaps you could have intelligent conversations with the ladies, and the men could be admired for their beauty.”

  Rob laughed out lou
d and the Perkins girls giggled uncontrollably. Dr. Clayton, however, nodded in agreement. “Why not?”

  She could see the response was not offered in jest. Dr. Clayton seemed to genuinely agree that the idea was possible. Deborah couldn’t help but throw him a smile.

  “Do you have a family, Doctor?” Deborah’s mother asked.

  “If you mean am I married, then the answer is no. I do have a family, however. I am the oldest of fifteen children. My mother and father reside in Kansas City.”

  “Fifteen children,” Mrs. Perkins said, shaking her head. “Goodness! And I thought my five were plenty to keep a woman busy.”

  “My mother is indeed a busy woman. She was made even more so, I’m sorry to say, when my father was left crippled after an accident in the rail yard.”

  “How tragic,” the woman replied. “I often worry after Zed at the sawmill, although he’s not nearly so busy with the day-to-day running as he used to be. But I am concerned for my sons. Injuries happen all the time.”

  “Well, that’s why we brought in a doctor, Mrs. Perkins,” Zed told his wife. “So you would stop fretting so much.”

  Everyone chuckled at this. Sissy placed the last bowl of food on the table and stood aside with folded hands as was her traditional signal that it was time to pray. Deborah bowed her head, finding even this simple reminder of home to be a blessing.

  Grace was offered by Uncle Arjan and conversation was put aside to focus instead on fried okra, rice and beans, and of course the promise of dessert. Deborah smiled appreciatively at the sight of her mother’s buttermilk biscuits. How she’d missed the food of her childhood.

  The conversation picked up a bit after the eating began. Once their initial hunger had abated, folks began to discuss the issues of the day between bites. Deborah listened with great interest as Mrs. Perkins addressed her desire for a larger school.

  “I believe with the growing number of children in our community, it would serve us well to build a school separate from the church. I’ve been after Mr. Perkins for some time now to consider the matter. The schoolmaster agrees it is a much needed project.”

  “I think that would be grand,” Euphanel Vandermark replied. Deborah knew her mother’s longtime friendship with Rachel Perkins often had the women seeing eye-to-eye on town matters. “Education has long suffered in this area.”

  “Too many folks associate free school with the Reconstructionists and their impositions on our society,” Mr. Perkins stated.

  Mrs. Perkins nodded. “People are inclined to cut off their noses to spite their faces. Still, I think if we offered a nicely built school with quality desks and good books, educating children through the eighth grade would be no problem at all.”

  “Rachel is good about spending my money before I make it,” Zed Perkins said, laughing.

  “Aren’t all women?” Rob questioned with a wink at Lizzie. “It’s because they’re so pretty, though, that we don’t seem to mind too much.” He smiled at the Perkins sisters, causing them to flush and giggle all the more.

  “Why not take them beyond eighth grade?” Deborah asked.

  Everyone looked at her for a moment, and then Annabeth shrugged. “Not many folks are even interested in education beyond that point.”

  Mrs. Perkins nodded and looked to Deborah. “It’s true. I doubt there’s much of an interest. It’s hard enough to get the people around here to spare their children for six years of education, much less eight. I’m hopeful, however, that we can make it more appealing.”

  Deborah held her tongue. No sense in appearing too confrontational on her first full day back. If the last four years away had taught her anything, it was that sometimes it was best to watch and listen. Popping a piece of buttered biscuit into her mouth, Deborah closed her eyes and savored the flavor. It was just as good as she remembered.

  “Miss Vandermark, you have an expression that suggests pure euphoria.”

  Deborah’s eyes snapped open to find Dr. Clayton watching her. Actually, everyone was now watching her. Apparently Dr. Clayton’s comment had interested them all. She fought her embarrassment and swallowed.

  “My mother makes the best biscuits in the county – probably even the state, although I’ve not attempted to verify that fact.”

  Dr. Clayton grinned. “I would agree.” He turned toward Deborah’s mother. “I’ve never eaten anything quite so delectable. If my mother had made biscuits half so well, I might never have left home.”

  “Why, aren’t you just the kindest man to say so,” her mother declared. “I shall have to make sure you get an extra large piece of pie for dessert.”

  “Hey, just hold on a second. You know I love your biscuits, Ma. I tell you all the time,” Rob threw out from the opposite end of the table. Everyone laughed at this, and Euphanel nodded.

  “You shall have a large piece of pie, as well. I happen to know it’s your favorite – egg custard.”

  Rob grinned and pushed his plate back. “Why didn’t you say so? I could have just skipped the rest of this food and started there.”

  His mother laughed. “That is exactly why I didn’t tell you about the pie.”

  The meal passed amicably with conversations about the locals and even some of the concerns in areas around the county. Deborah enjoyed it, although she found herself more an observer than participant. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but a sense of reflection seemed to hold her captive.

  With each absence from home, Deborah had found the differences more noticeable. But she also found the precious things more poignant, as well. Little things, like the creaking sound of her mother’s rocker on the porch as she snapped beans; the warmth of a dog curled up at the foot of her bed; even the wonderful scent of the pines mingled with woodsmoke. Each memory could bring a smile to her face. Deborah was bound to her birthplace in a way that she couldn’t quite explain. She had once tried to write about it for a school paper but found herself doing a poor job. Her teacher had chided her for being “dreamy and childish” in her declaration that, “Nothing will ever comfort me quite as much as the scents of my mother’s lavender sachet, strong coffee brewing, and freshly cut wood.” Deborah felt sorry for the professor. He would never understand the way she felt.

  She couldn’t help but notice G. W.’s silence. He focused on his meal, nodded in acknowledgment from time to time, but otherwise shared very little of his thoughts. Deborah had hoped that one of the young women might have attracted his attention, but upon reacquainting herself with nineteen-year-old Annabeth and seventeen-year-old Maybelle, Deborah was just as happy that G. W. was preoccupied. What ninnies those two turned out to be! One minute they were giggling and blushing, the next they were staring wide-eyed at the handsome doctor.

  Lizzie seemed to be enjoying herself. Mrs. Perkins had very nearly assaulted Deborah’s friend with questions about her background and how the two women had met. Lizzie didn’t seem to mind, however, and took each question in stride.

  “So you were both attending university in Philadelphia?” Dr. Clayton asked.

  Deborah nodded, but it was Lizzie who answered. “Deborah was my dearest friend and always shall be. She kept me from giving up when our studies turned difficult.”

  “And what studies were those?” he asked.

  “It was that wretched biology class,” Lizzie said with a shudder. “Seems like just yesterday. I spent more time confused than in understanding. I had fully planned to give up my attempts to understand cells, but Deborah began tutoring me, and before I knew it, the class was concluded and I had managed to get a passing grade. But just barely.”

  Dr. Clayton smiled and turned to Deborah. “And what of you? Did you enjoy the class?”

  Again Lizzie jumped in. “She most certainly did. One of the professors tried to interest her in the women’s medical school.”

  Deborah found all eyes turned to her and gave a weak laugh. “Then I could have opened an infirmary in the logging office.”

  Her mother’s gaze seemed fixed upon
her, and Deborah felt the need to move the conversation elsewhere. “Lizzie is quite gifted in the arts. She plays piano and sings, and has the most amazing talent with watercolors.”

  “All very useless skills for real life,” Lizzie added.

  “Not at all, Miss Decker!” Rachel Perkins’s excitement got the best of her. “We suffer for entertainment in these parts. It would be marvelous to plan an evening where you could sing and play for us.” She turned to her husband. “Don’t you think such an event would be popular? Why, the folks would simply love it.”

  “I believe she’s right,” Zed Perkins replied. “We will depend upon you, Miss Decker.”

  Lizzie threw Deborah a rather panicked look, but Deborah was simply glad to have the conversation turned elsewhere. The last thing she wanted to do was answer any more questions regarding her own interests.

  After pie was served and praise issued with the devouring, the men wandered outside to the porch to discuss business. Mrs. Perkins and the girls settled in the living room with Lizzie, while Deborah helped her mother serve coffee. She could hear the men’s muffled discussion through the open windows but paid it little attention. To think too long on such matters only made Deborah wish for the classrooms she’d left behind. She enjoyed a rousing discussion of politics and business. Too bad a woman would be considered out of place to position herself with the men rather than to gossip with the ladies.

  “I do wish we could have taken a stroll,” Annabeth declared. “It seems the perfect night for such a thing. The moon is nearly full.”

  Mother shook her head. “I’m afraid it would be dangerous. We’ve had trouble with the Piney Woods rooters.”

  Lizzie looked at Deborah for an explanation. Deborah leaned closer. “Wild hogs.”

  “Very dangerous animals indeed,” Mrs. Perkins said as she lifted her coffee cup. “Many a man has been desperately wounded by those beasts.”

  “By a pig?” Lizzie asked.

  The Perkins sisters burst into laughter. “Oh my dear,” their mother interjected, “they aren’t merely pigs. These are feral animals – razorbacks that roam the woods at night. They are smart and can outthink a normal man. They are mean and ill-tempered, with fierce tusks that can tear you to ribbons.”