Counterfeit Courtship (18 page)

“Everybody has them. If we can't make it with cotton, we'll make it another way.”

But he didn't have another way. Fitzwald was bound to make sure Graham didn't work in Natchez. And what else could he do besides his brokerage? What a time for him to fall in love.

He glanced at Ellie in her pretty white dress, charming as a bride. If only she could rid herself of her fear, Graham could tell her how much he loved her.

Then again, how would merely saying the words
I love you
make anything better as long as he couldn't support a wife?

He rubbed his temples. How had everything gotten so complicated? What had happened to the days when a man and a woman fell in love, declared that love and got married?

“Are you all right? You have that frown on your face.” As always, she looked straight through him to his heart.

“I'm fine.” He offered her his arm. “We'd better get home before Aunt Ophelia discovers we sneaked out here alone.”

As they turned to start toward Pearl Street, Joseph's brougham pulled up. His driver stopped the oversize carriage alongside them, and Joseph leaned out the window. The grim look on the attorney's face brought a sinking feeling to Graham's stomach.

“Graham, Ellie, I'm glad I found you. We have to talk.”

“What now?” Ellie already had enough trouble. Graham reached for the door handle and helped her in, then seated himself beside her.

Joseph tapped the roof with his cane, and they started up the street. “More bad news, I'm afraid.”

Ellie's eyes grew wide. “From Leonard, no doubt.”

With an air that seemed involuntary, she leaned a fraction closer to Graham, keeping her gaze on Joseph. Graham took her hand and held tight to it, willing his encouragement to her—encouragement she'd never seemed to need before. Or perhaps she'd simply kept it hidden until now.

Joseph handed him a long sheet of paper. “This is being distributed about the state today. A copy will be in this afternoon's
Courier
—and every other newspaper in the area.”

Graham scanned the document.

Sheriff's Sale July 11, 1865

Ashland Place, Cotton Plantation, 1000 Acres

Greek Revival Home Built 1839

Ashland, for sale. All Graham's hopes sunk like a burning steamboat.

“Not this,” he managed to say, his mouth suddenly dry. He passed the flyer to Ellie, not wanting to read the description of the outbuildings and riverside setting.

Ellie took it from him, her hand shaking. Within a moment, she turned to him, her eyes filled with tears. “Graham, no...”

The catch in her voice nearly did him in. He hadn't seen her cry over her own troubles, so by no means would he allow her to see how much this news affected him. “It's all right. We'll think of something, or we'll just let it go. Lots of people are losing their land these days.”

“Joseph, we were going to plant Ashland, hoping no one would buy it,” she said, her little finger wiping the corner of one eye.

Graham took the flyer from Ellie and gave it back to Joseph. “Maybe nobody will, and we can go ahead with our plans.”

“It won't work.” Joseph reverted to his lawyer voice. “Leonard Fitzwald is going to buy Ashland Place at that sale. It's nothing but spite.”

And it was working. The ache in Graham's chest threatened to smother what little optimism he'd held on to since coming back to town. He would never have a cotton crop at Ashland Place. He'd never even have a pea crop. “What can I do, Joseph?”

“Get a lot of money together in a hurry. The bank won't finance more than 50 percent of the buying price.”

The only person Graham knew of in this town who had that kind of money was Fitzwald himself.

“This doesn't make sense to me. Fitzwald has never been interested in land.” Not until Graham came back to town.

Then he realized the true motivation of Fitzwald's heart. He wanted everything Graham wanted: Ashland Place and Ellie. “He's doing this for revenge.”

Joseph gave one slow nod. “That's what I think.”

“Where can I come up with half the money to buy back my own land?”

Ellie tapped his knee with her parasol. “Your brokerage. You need more work. Since Leonard's father passed on, all the planters in town need a new broker. If they don't hire you, they'll have to go all the way to New Orleans to find a competent one. Everybody knows Leonard never learned his father's business.”

“I'll need to find work right away—for this crop. That's going to be hard, if what Fitzwald said is true.” Graham turned to Joseph. “According to him, all the members of the newly formed Natchez Planters' Alliance vowed never to hire me if Ellie kept her promise of wages to her workers. Do you know if that's true?”

Joseph slid the flyer back into his portmanteau. “Many of the planters have expressed that to me. Not everyone.”

“Who didn't?” Ellie asked.

Joseph's gaze shifted to the right for an instant as he ran his fingers over that magnificent moustache of his. “A Yankee who owns land south of town, for one.”

“But who?” She leaned forward a bit. “Graham could contact them today and offer his services.”

“I agree. He should do just that, and I'll make a list for him as soon as I get back to my office.” Joseph gave Graham's forearm a fatherly pat. “Even if Ashland Place is lost, you'll make a way for yourself. And who knows? The two of you might save the plantation after all. Talbots don't quit, and you're a Talbot.”

But Graham and his father were the first Talbots ever to lose as much as an acre of family land. “All the same, I'm not buying that pea seed until after the sheriff's sale.”

“Graham,” Ellie said, a frown on her face, “I have cotton stored at Ashland Place.”

A sinking feeling hit him in the gut. “How much?”

“Over a fourth of what I kept back from last year's crop. We have to get it out of there today. Let's use that cotton as our afternoon load.”

It might've already been too late, since Fitzwald had probably been snooping around out there. “If it's a fourth of the entire lot, it's too much for this shipment. The steamboat doesn't have enough room.” Graham paused, thinking. “We can move some of it to the barn we emptied this morning. Where can we put the rest?”

“I have one more barn at Magnolia Grove, but it's so remote, I didn't want to use it. The ground is still muddy after the rains last week.”

“We'll get it moved today.”

The carriage came to a gentle stop in front of Ellie's house. When the driver opened the door and Ellie turned toward it, Joseph mouthed the words, “Come back.”

Graham nodded, exited the conveyance and turned to help Ellie out. What more could Joseph have to say, which he clearly didn't want Ellie to hear?

Having received her promise to come to his house after she checked on her uncle, Graham strode back to the brougham and climbed in. He was in for more bad news, no doubt, but he was thankful to get the telling of it over with now rather than later. “What else, Joseph? Say it quickly, because Ellie is eager to get going. She's worried about that cotton, and to be honest, so am I. We need to get it on steamboats in a hurry.”

“Upon my word, I'm ready to give up this profession. I've been in the business of delivering bad news for the past fifty-seven years, but this whole situation wears on me.”

Come to think of it, Joseph looked a bit pale, as if all his energy had drained from him. Graham owed it to him to make this as easy on the elderly man as he could. “Go ahead and give it to me. As you say, I'll be all right.”

Joseph's steely gaze did nothing to reassure Graham. “It's about the planters who have not joined the Alliance.”

Graham sweated through the weighty pause.

“There are two of them. They're the only ones Fitzwald has no leverage over. The rest still owe him a commission from last year's crop, and Fitzwald has threatened to foreclose on their plantations if they use you instead of him as their broker.”

Two? He wasn't kidding when he said he was the deliverer of bad news. “Only two planters in all of Natchez are willing to hire me as their broker?”

“I'm afraid so. I wanted to tell you in private so you could decide whether to tell Ellie.”

“I don't want to add to her worries.”

Joseph turned his gaze in the direction of Ellie's home. “Ellie's a good girl, Graham, and she's been put to the test. Through this war, her uncle couldn't have gotten by without her, even before his apoplexy. She's been like a daughter to Noreen too.”

That much Graham already knew. And he needed to get out to Ashland Place. “I've never seen you dance around an issue like this. Tell me what's on your mind.”

“All right, I will.” He leaned forward and impaled Graham with his gaze. “I don't like it when young couples in love keep secrets from one another.”

First Amos gave them romance advice, and now Joseph, who had been a widower for forty years? “I'm not sure why everyone has so much to say about our courtship.”

“I can tell you why I do. For one thing, I've known you since before you were in short pants. For another, when Ellie came to live with Amos, he named me her guardian in case of his demise. And for the third, I don't think people should tamper with love.”

Had he been talking to Amos about them? Did he know they'd fabricated this courtship? “What do you mean by tampering?”

“Keeping secrets.” Joseph spoke slowly as if Graham were the one in his eighties—and senile. “In love, complete truth is the only way to go. Don't keep secrets.”

It was a little late for that.

“It might be a good idea to marry her right away, Graham.”

“How in blazes can I marry her—” The kindness in his old friend's eyes stopped the tirade Graham felt coming on. He lowered his voice. “I have nothing. I can't support her, let alone her uncle. I'd hoped to make it as a cotton broker, but it doesn't look as if I'm going to get much work in this town, if any. And I haven't heard a word about my pardon. I can't buy or sell until—unless—I get it. Even if I could scrape up the money to buy Ashland Place, it would have to stay in Noreen's name until I get the pardon—if I ever do.”

“Nevertheless, a hasty marriage might help your reputation in this town. And you two belong together. You always have. Don't let anything stand in your way.”

“Ellie's not ready to set a wedding date.”

“You'll have to persuade her to.”

Of course, the real reason Joseph wanted them married so soon was because if Ellie figured out she was the reason Graham wouldn't get work, she'd never agree to it. But Joseph didn't know she wouldn't marry him anyway.

Graham needed to talk to each planter in the Alliance and see if he could convince them to hire him. Once he knew whether this brokerage idea could work, he'd know better what to do.

He stood and reached for the door handle. “I appreciate your concern. You've always been a good friend to me and my family.”

“I'm not speaking to you as a friend now. I'm speaking to you as your attorney—and Ellie's. There's more happening than you are aware of.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Joseph pointed out the carriage window. “Here comes Ellie. Talk to her—today. Don't let another day go by.”

With those cryptic words ringing in his ears, Graham stepped from the carriage. Joseph tapped the ceiling with his cane, loud enough for Graham to hear it from the outside, and the barouche took off.

Could the elderly man have a few secrets of his own?

Chapter Seventeen

“I
haven't seen you this quiet since the night we stole a whole pecan pie from Lilah May and hid from her in the stable.” Ellie glanced at Graham as he turned the landau west into Ashland Place's lane, his frown once again as pronounced as the day Betsy arrived.

He hesitated as if he'd been lost in thought and had to catch up with the conversation. “Lilah May was a formidable foe in those days.”

“I can imagine how hard it is for you to come here, knowing it's going to be sold. You don't have to go with me. I've got Sugar for protection.”

At the sound of her name, the dog opened one eye and then went back to ignoring them from her spot at their feet.

“Even if we didn't have Fitzwald to beware of, I would still need to come here one last time.”

“Maybe it doesn't have to be the last time.”

He groaned. “Don't tell me you have another plan you haven't told me about yet.”

“I wish I did.” For a moment, Ellie allowed herself the luxury of imagining herself presenting Joseph with all the money they needed to keep both Ashland Place and Magnolia Grove. Then their lives would change. Graham would be free to court her in earnest—if he loved her. Maybe she could even turn loose of her fear of losing everything, of being hungry, of depending on someone else to survive.

Graham drove by the white plantation home without seeming to look its way.

Ellie laid her hand on his arm. He needed more than a new plan from her. They both needed God to intervene on their behalf, and they both knew it. Ellie breathed a silent prayer, about the hundredth one that morning, for Him to do just that. And although she still had no answer or plan, she chose to believe He would guide her.

“We still have a chance,” she said, willing herself to believe it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, almost as if offering a seconds-long prayer. “Joseph gave me some advice today, and it's going to be hard to follow.”

“What was it?”

They stopped in front of the most remote barn at Ashland. Ellie scrambled out then took Sugar by the collar and helped her to the ground.

“It's a new plan, all right.” Graham's mouth tightened at the edges. “Joseph wants us to—”

Sugar's growl cut him off as she stood before the barn's double doors.

“What's the matter with her?” Graham asked as the dog paced in front of the entrance.

Ellie grabbed her collar again and pulled her close so Graham could open the doors. “This is the third time I've heard her growl lately.”

Then Ellie noticed white puffs of cotton lying in the road before the barn, and her heart lurched. “Graham, the cotton—on the ground...”

He glanced around, clearly catching the sight, and flung open one door. “No, Ellie—the cotton...”

Ellie knew what she'd see—an empty barn, the cotton gone. Her legs suddenly weak, she lifted the back of her hoopskirt and sat down hard on the ground. “How could he?”

Sugar had never growled at anyone except Leonard, the night he and Joseph came to her home. But on Sunday, she'd also growled at the barn that had held the cotton they loaded onto the steamer not two hours ago.

Leonard Fitzwald had been there, and he'd been here. Sugar could still smell him.

And he had effectively shattered her hope.

* * *

“It had to be Fitzwald.” Graham turned from the empty barn. He should have seen this coming, should have stayed here last night, guarding the cotton. Then again, Ellie had cotton hidden in five separate spots over thirty-five hundred acres, so he never could have kept it all safe.

He took a moment to form a plan. “We need to get the sheriff. On the way, we'll stop at Magnolia Grove and have your overseer and new manager keep watch over the other barns.”

Surprisingly, Sugar had stayed near them and followed Ellie into the landau. “Well, there are only the two of them, and I have cotton hidden in three more areas. They'll have to go together because Mister Sutton would never find them on his own.”

“Why not? Barns are hard to miss.”

“I used only two barns—this one and the one that held the cotton that sailed out today. That's why I wanted to ship this load next.”

“Where could you put cotton bales besides in a barn?”

She let him help her into the conveyance for a change. “I have some in an abandoned house, some in a boarded-up church and some scattered in outbuildings at Mill Creek Plantation. The main house there burned two years ago, and the family moved to Baton Rouge. The whole plantation is grown up in weeds. I wanted to keep it in places where the Yankees wouldn't think to look.”

Well, she'd certainly accomplished that. Graham would never have looked for cotton in those places either. He spoke to Lucy and Buttercup, and they started toward Magnolia Grove.

“My mistake was using your barn. It was too obvious—to Leonard, at least. My plan didn't work.”

For once, Ellie's smile was gone. She'd tried so hard, and seeing her sit there with her shoulders slumped was almost more than Graham could take. “We can still do it. We'll work together—”

“I can't get by without that cotton. Even with it, I probably couldn't have made it until we get paid for this year's crop.”

“You don't mean that. I'll help you.”

Ellie shook her head, silent.

What was wrong with her? “This isn't like you. You always think of a way to make things work out.”

“Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I put too much stock in my own mind, my own reasoning.” She hesitated, wrinkling her brow as if in deep thought. “Do I try to control things too much? Is God disciplining me?”

Graham had to think hard about that. Since he hoped to marry Ellie one day, if she'd ever have him, he had to be careful to give her wise counsel.
Is that how You see it, God? Is this Your discipline?

Immediately, he thought of the things Ellie had tried to control. She'd tried to make an honest living for herself and her invalid uncle. She'd offered jobs at higher wages than anyone else in the area would pay. She'd offered Graham a job so he could provide for his family. She'd even tried to help him get rid of all those girls when he'd needed quiet time to think.

“No, the things you did are not the fruit of a wicked heart but a generous one, so I don't think this is God's discipline. I think it's the result of a greedy thief who wants to ruin your life so you'll come running to him to rescue you.”

“I'm not so sure.” She turned her head, her gaze seemingly on the Queen Anne's lace by the roadside. Was she wishing they were still children, picking wildflowers and having no cares? “Maybe I was wrong to start this imaginary courtship.”

Her listless tone—one he'd never heard from her before—sent a jolt of fear through him. Thus far she'd fought her way through this mess like the bravest soldier. What had changed?

“What did you start to say about Joseph earlier, when Sugar growled and interrupted you?”

Now, what did that have to do with it? He considered brushing it off, but Joseph seemed to think he needed to deal with the issues right away. “Just that he thinks we should stop keeping secrets from each other.”

Her eyes flew wide open, her distress spilling out like a waterfall. “Secrets?”

Graham's heart caught at her whispered word. “Joseph thinks I need to tell you that Leonard has threatened to force the Natchez Planters' Alliance to blackball me as a cotton broker.”

Ellie whirled around, her eyes blazing. “He can't do that.”

“A lot of the planters still owe his father commission on previous years' cotton. He's going to foreclose on those men's properties unless they hire him as their broker.”

“So you won't get any work in this town.” The fire died down in her eyes, leaving behind a sort of defeated chill.

“Maybe, maybe not.” How vague should he be? “A few planters don't owe him money.”

“How many?”

He'd apparently dodged the issue with the skill of a hedgehog. But he'd decided to take Joseph's advice, so he might as well follow through to the finish. “No secrets. Two.”

As they drove up Magnolia Grove's lane, Ellie's sharp silence frightened him more than her lethargic tone had earlier. “Ellie, what aren't you telling me?”

She shook her head, pressing her fingers against her eyelids.

“Ellie!” He snatched her hand and held tight to it, his sudden self-doubt as heavy as this weighty silence. “You can't pull back from me like this.”

She opened her eyes and then pointed toward the house. “It's Leonard. He's here.”

Graham shot his gaze over to Moses and his dogtrot-style home between the main house and the house servants' quarters. There Fitzwald stood beside his surrey, his puny arms bent as he shoved his fists onto his hips like a girl.

The coward. Afraid to face Graham, he'd come to intimidate the help instead.

Graham should have tried to get Ellie to stay at the house so he could face the weasel alone. It was too late now, so instead, he barreled down the dirt lane and came to an abrupt stop, dust billowing up around them. He leapt from the landau, his heart pumping hard.

“Stay in here, Ellie.” He was at Fitzwald's side within seconds.

Ellie paid him no attention, clambering from the landau as fast as he had.

“Moses, you'd better go in your house.”

“No, sir. I'm the overseer here, and I'm bound to stay beside you.”

Was nobody going to do as he said today? “Here's a man as brave as Ellie. Fitzwald, you could learn from both of them.”

“Don't use that tone with me, Colonel. I'm soon to be the master of this plantation.”

Fitzwald's raspy voice cut through Graham like a rusty bayonet. “There aren't any plantation masters anymore. Didn't you hear that we lost the war? And if there were, you'd never be the master here, even if you steal every fiber of cotton on the place.”

“That's slander, Colonel.” His voice raised in pitch until he sounded like a woman.

“You wouldn't say that if you hadn't stolen Ellie's cotton.”

Even though Graham had lived with soldiers for the past four years, he cringed inwardly at the level of foul language spewing from Leonard's mouth. “Ellie and I have wedding plans to discuss, and they don't include you.”

“Get out of here, Fitzwald.” Graham kept his voice low, menacing.

Fitzwald's face turned red around that macabre black eye patch. “You're a hothead, just like Ellie's father.”

“I am when you threaten her. That's not going to change.”

“I'm doing you both a favor. Ellie will marry me and keep her property and the money she owes me. In return, I'll cancel the planters' debts to my father and give them permission to hire you. Since you're not marrying Ellie, the news of her father's gambling habit won't hinder you,” Fitzwald said loudly enough for anyone outside the cabins to hear, and maybe some of them inside. “I'll even postpone the sale of Ashland Place until you can buy it. Everybody gets what they want.”

“What about what Ellie wants? You've gone crazy, Fitzwald. You need to leave, now.”

“Graham, stop.”

Stop?
He swung around, his thoughts a tangled mess.

“Leonard, I must return to town. Will you excuse us?”

“Certainly.” Quick as a snake, he snatched Ellie's hand and kissed it.

Her eyes flashing fire, she jerked it back and rubbed it on her skirt. She opened her mouth, surely to shout some sense into him, but then she closed it again.

Well, if she wouldn't, Graham would. He grabbed the weasel's shoulder and spun him toward his carriage. “Don't touch her again.”

Sugar, at their side in an instant, bared her teeth and growled at Fitzwald as if she'd like to take out his other eye.

He muttered the worst of profanities as Graham escorted him to the surrey. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”

When Fitzwald had driven off down the lane, Graham helped Ellie into her carriage. For once, she didn't protest or try to do it on her own.

He opened his door and stepped aside as Sugar hopped in. Then he swung the horses and landau around. As they passed the big house, he turned to Ellie, trying to think of something to say—anything that might take the pain from her eyes.

“Ellie...” He reached for her hand, the same one Fitzwald had assaulted with his thin little lips.

As she held on to his hand, she blinked, fast, as if holding back tears.

“Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll make sure he never does that again.”

She wiped her eyes and turned in the seat to face him. “Leonard is using the planters' loans to force them to use him as their broker.”

He slowed the horses to take the turn onto the road. “That's about right.”

“If I don't marry him, you won't have work. You won't be able to support your family, and you won't be able to buy Ashland Place.”

Was that what she was upset about? “Don't worry about it. I'll find something else.”

“Like what?”

What did it matter at this moment? “I haven't considered other options yet because until now, it was already settled.”

But from the look on her face, she didn't consider it settled. Not at all.

“Joseph talked to you about secrets. You tried to tell me about yours on the way here, and now you know mine.”

He drew a deep breath. “Honey, you're going to have to come right out and say what you mean, because I'm as confused as I've ever been in my life.”

“Your secret was that you won't get any work from the local planters.” She spoke slowly, as one would with a child. “Mine was that my father was a gambler. He won that railroad from Leonard's father—in a card game.”

“That's half true. I admit to keeping that secret from you. But I already knew how your father got that railroad.”