Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou) (4 page)

BOOK: Rescued (Flowers of the Bayou)
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“Yes Georgia I am inclined to agree.” And it was a nice day—the temperature seemed to be perfect just for them and there wasn’t one cloud in the whole wide-open sky.

The only thing that seemed to be dragging her away from her friends and the beautiful scenery was the fact that today was to be a day that she would spend with Morgan

She asked for the afternoon off, and was grateful that Mr. Bradford had granted it. She wasn’t sure yet what to expect from the man. But thus far he’d been pleasant. Last week she had been in the library cleaning and knocked over a vase. She wanted to cry thinking about how expensive it was and how long it would take to pay for it. Even worse what if she was let go. Feeling miserable she’d gone to inform him of the incident. She smiled remembering his response.

“You look as though you’ve just lost your best friend. Cheer up it was only a vase. I can’t have your pretty face sulking about.”

And with that he’d turned heel and walked into his study. She still could feel heat in her cheeks at his remark on her appearance. Not many called her pretty and hearing it from him gave her an unexpected flutter.

“Vivian, let’s go to the park. I got nothing to do and diners not for hours?”

“You have nothing to do child that’s the proper way, and as nice as it would be to get out of this old house, I can’t I have cleaning to do and laundry.”

“Amelia?” Georgia said turning to her—she was her last chance.

“I’m sorry, after I finish up in here I’ve got to head up to my room and get dressed, Mr. Hanson is coming by for me.”

“That old man—are you really going to marry him?”

“Georgia!” Vivian gave the child a smack on her bottom. “Don’t you worry about who she’s marrying, it’s none of your affair you hear.” She felt bad for reprimanding the child for stating the obvious truth, but it wasn’t for her to do so. She was a child and it was rude.

 Vivian felt the same in her heart but learned several years ago that Amelia was under Lorraine’s thumb and whatever Lorraine wanted Amelia was more than eager to deliver. In this case Lorraine wanted Amelia to marry an old man who would make her miserable. Still she held out hope that before it was too late the woman would understand her own worth and see just how beautiful she was.

“Yes Ma’me” Georgia said obediently. “I’m sorry Amelia I didn’t mean it.” Georgia looked from one woman to another feeling guilty. Then decided it would probably be best if she carried herself  upstairs and played in her room.

“Georgia” Amelia began kindly. “After Vivian and I finish our chores I’m going to get ready and I would like it very much if you would come help me. I finished sewing a new dress but I don’t know what else to put with it.”

“You really want me to help?” She asked suspiciously. Not sure if she was just saying so to make her feel better.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t Georgia.”

“Can I go wait for you in your room? Your bed is the best for bouncing.”

“How would you know?” She said accusingly, but not too harsh. “To think all the time I went into my room and sworn I’d made the bed. Now I know who the culprit is.”

“I promise to clean up after myself.”

“I’m just teasing. I will be up soon.”

“You will go now. It’s almost noon anyhow. I was thinking I could put some of those tight curls in your hair that Mr. Hanson likes so much.” Vivian offered rising from her chair.

“I would like that very much Vivian.” Amelia figured Vivian would do as much. She always helped her get ready. They were more like a mother and daughter than friends, a fact that sometimes created problems when outside of the walls of the Bradford house. “I’ll be up shortly I just need to finish up some things first.” Excusing herself Amelia moved out of the stuffy room into the foyer.

Yesterday she gone into town and purchased a simple blue vase. It was the least she could do since she had broken the one in the library. She planned on giving it to Mr. Bradford yesterday but had been too busy. Dashing down the hall to the far end of the kitchen Amelia dragged a yellow stool to stand upon as she retrieved the cerulean glass from atop the tall oak wood pantry.

She needed to hurry she knew now that Mr. Bradford always left after lunch to meet Mr. Jasper McMahon and it was getting close to that time. Besides Georgia and Vivian were waiting for her as well and if she was late meeting Morgan lord help her.

Running towards the study she stopped once in front of it took a breath and ran a hand over her wrinkled skirt before she rapped on the door twice. It was not even a moment before she heard the deep rumbling of a voice bidding her come in. Pushing the door open she did.

Jordan looked up from the stack of papers splayed across his desk. He’d been expecting Jasper but the sight of the pretty brown skinned maid was not unwelcome.

“Sir.” She began, holding the vase in her hands. “I know it’s not much, but I did want to try and replace the one I broke. I’m sorry.” Moving forward Amelia placed the piece on his desk and watched as he lifted it into his hands to examine it.

Jordan would have laughed if not for the serious look on her face. Why would she think that he would want her to replace that old vase, it was hideous and he hadn’t been sorry to see it go—hadn’t he told her so?

She avoided him like the plague, he couldn’t imagine the amount of courage it took to bring him this. Jordan thought she was going to faint when she’d come to him a few days back to ask is she could take her leave early today.

Grinning he placed the vase back down. “It’s an improvement to say the least.” He chuckled. “So much so, I think I’ll leave it right here.” He informed her.

Amelia smiled shyly. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be going now.” Amelia was half way out the door before she was stopped.

“Amelia.”

Turning about she faced him head on she wasn’t sure how he had managed to get from his desk to the door so quick.

As if reading her mind Jordan laughed. “You were moving so fast I didn’t think I’d catch you, I had to be quick.” Jordan grinned.

“Sorry Sir. You need anything?”

“Yes, I need to thank you.” Jordan told her. “It’s a lovely vase.”

“Most welcome Sir.”

Backing out Amelia nearly tumbled to the floor and decided it was best to see where she was walking and pivoted forward never once looking back.

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she knew her cheeks were flushed; she felt sick. Coming away from her thoughts Amelia found she was at her own oak door and it was startling. She was so flustered it was almost as if she just appeared there instead of walked. Opening the door Vivian’s warm face met her and she was grateful.

“I was beginning to wonder.” Vivian teased flicking the girl’s hair as she passed her by. “We need to get you presentable for your distinguished Mr. Hanson.”

“It would be nice if Morgan was that way.” Amelia said aloud not really realizing.

“Which dress will you wear?” Vivian asked, but there wasn’t a vast array to choose from.

“The green cotton, I finished it yesterday.”

Vivian picked up the dress and explored all the tiny pleats and floral stitch work. It was very attractive. “You are getting good at this.”

“You’re a patient teacher.” Amelia commented. “Where is Georgia?”

“You know that girl, she may enjoy a tea party but deep down she’s nothing but a tomboy, she went outside to climb. I hope she doesn’t scuff her knees.”

Halfway out of her dress Amelia giggled. Georgia would scuff her knees and worse they both knew it. Stepping out of the heap of cloth at her feet Amelia took the pale green cotton from Vivian and pulled it over her head, letting the cool fabric fall down her length.

“It’s a tad large?” Informed Vivian already at her back pinning what would later become alterations. “We’ll fix it later.”

“I don’t know if I should dally or hurry, Morgan is either late or too early.”

“Neither, he’s here to court you and a lady is expected to make a gentleman caller wait.”

Amelia scowled; she’d never make that man wait if she could avoid it. Taking up her brush she began the task of smoothing out the unruly curly coils of her hair and didn’t stop until they were soft waves. “I don’t think we can do ringlets Vivian. It’s already late and I need to get out back and wait for Morgan.”

“I don’t see why that man doesn’t come to the front to be received..”

“It’s not done and you know it. Coloreds are received in the back of a house and Morgan is smart for following that unspoken and spoken rule. You know that.”

“Well it’s an idiotic rule.”

Amelia smiled and patted the blonde’s shoulder. “Things will change one day.” Kissing her cheek she grabbed her warm shawl. “I’m going round back in case he’s waiting.”

A curt nod was all the dismissal Amelia needed as she slid out her bedroom door and hustled out the back of the house. Upon stepping outside she was surprised that indeed he was waiting. And stilled herself for what was to come.

“You know how long I been waitin fo ya?”

“Chores were heavy today.”

Roughly Morgan took his future wife’s arm and trudged her behind him limping on his cane. The old hay wain he’d brought looked about as tired as the mule who totted it and as Amelia mounted herself onto the weakening wood she was half afraid the wheels would give out.

Placing a hand to her assaulted forearm she rubbed the offended area as Morgan with much effort climbed up beside her and urged the poor mule on. “Where are we going tonight, to see Lorraine? If so I could go grab the peach cobbler I prepared for her.”

“Na she gonna meet us down at yo’ friend Nina’s. Thought I’d let ya pick out ah dress today.”

“A dress?”

“Ya deaf? Dat’s what I said aint it.”

“I already made a new dress out of the old curtains Lorraine gave me.” Amelia began but then just hung her head and fell silent as he glared at her. What good would it do for her to continue on any conversation with Morgan? He only loved to argue.

Nina was one of her closest friends, it would be nice to see her—she was the best seamstress she knew, even better than Vivian. However Vivian had the patience to teach. Nina did not. She could only guess at what type of dress they’d be trying to come up with at Nina’s and she felt fury grow in her chest that Lorraine and Morgan could do such a thing without once consulting her.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence as they both watched the trees and pastures roll by, content for the most part to just be. Neither could have been sure how much time had gone by when Nina’s shabby dwelling set before a large hill just off a dirt road could be seen.

Dismounting in silence Amelia left him to his own devices as she rushed to her friend’s house and without knocking pushed the sturdy door open. “Where are you Nina?”

Nina Baxter heard her friend’s voice and emerged from the only other room not open to everyone. “Like there be so many places to hide.” Squealing she embraced her friend.

“You look so pretty.” Amelia pushed her friend to arm’s length to admire her.

“Look who talkin an gettin married soon.” Nina took note of the forced smile on Amelia’s face, they would discuss it later. “Lorraine done asked me to fashion a fancy dress to make the announcement to all the family and friends just like a real expensive white folk engagement.” In a hushed whisper she leaned close to Amelia’s ear. “She swear she somethin fancy cause she creole.”

Amelia stifled a laugh and embraced her friend once more. “Shush you know she got ears as good as a dog.”

Lorraine raised an eyebrow at the two gossiping youngsters. “Enough, Amelia come on get your big butt up on that stool so Nina can measure you.” She said sunnily.

The comment wiped the smile off both women’s faces and Amelia silently stepped atop the wooden stool.

“What colors you fancy? I got some yellow fabric and blue I also got some purple, and got some pink. You like pink?”

“The brown cotton will do just fine Nina.” Lorraine spoke up holding the bolt of fabric.

“Why don’t we ask Amelia what she want?” Nina Baxter swept at her dark short locks and watched as the older woman circled around her friend like an auctioneer.

“We don’t ask her because she doesn’t know what she wants.” Lorraine let her cold glare drift from Nina to her niece

Holding her ground Nina pulled the expensive pink tulle up to Amelia’s face “I think that you would look just lovely in this, what you think?”

“It looks expensive?”

“Girl don’t fret it would be my treat, my gift to ya. What you think?”

Smiling up at her friend, she nodded, grateful that someone would think to consider her in the decision. “I love it, pink it is.” She declared defiantly. “I hate that brown.”

“Come on.” Nina squealed. “It gonna be fun figuring out how it gonna look.” Hurrying Amelia along, Nina shut the door quickly behind her and let a smile brighten up her pretty visage at the look on Lorraine’s face when it shut in her face. It may have been a small bedroom, stuffy and hot, but right now it was a sanctuary.

“Spill the beans, are you excited? I know you have to be. I remember when me and Cole got married I could barely sleep for the first month.”

“It’s different I can say that but it really hasn’t even happened yet.”

“But you are happy?”

Looking away Amelia fingered the soft fabric. “You think you could embroider it, nothing too fancy but just something around the hem.”

“Amelia you happy, ain’t you?” Nina brought her friends face up to hers.

“Of course I am.” She lied.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Jordan flicked the end of the table over and over, he hadn't been in the city for more than a week and everyone had already begun to descend upon him like a swarm of bees. He wanted to spend more time with Georgia, with their age difference she was more a daughter and he the parent. So it was obvious Georgia needed him more than most sisters needed their brothers. Their parent's early demise had automatically thrown them both in strange roles as siblings.

Georgia had been a few months old when both their parents were involved in a wreck at sea. At twenty-six Jordan had been more than capable of taking on the role of surrogate father and did so to the best of his ability. Yet he was grateful for his cousin Margaret, when he was away she took on a responsibility that was not her own.

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