Authors: Jodi Barrows
Threads of Change
© 2013 by
JODI BARROWS
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Edited by Sandra Bricker
Interior design: Ragont Design
Author photo: Holly Paulson / Sillyheads Photography
Cover design: LeVan Fisher Design
Cover photography: Steve Gardner, Pixelworks Studio and Vilnis Lauzurns, Shutterstock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Barrows, Jodi.
Threads of change : a quilting story. Part 1 / Jodi Barrows.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-8024-0937-9
1. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.A83735T57 2013
813’.6–dc23
2013014970
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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LECOMPTE, LOUISIANA
SPRING 1856
E
lizabeth stepped out onto the wooden porch surrounding her home and surveyed the budding spring color peeking through tree branches. Evening had turned to night and her much loved family had all gone to bed. She stood near the steps and leaned against a pillar as flickers of lightning collided with the night sky. A storm brewed in the distance and she could smell the imminent rain.
This porch had always been her favorite thinking spot. She had spent many evenings watching the approaching storms. Tonight, she moved deeper into her thoughts, letting the sprinkle of rain relax her. She loved this place like a family member. How could she go off and leave it, never to return? If she believed her grandfather, she could leave it now under her own terms or lose it later in the conflict of a civil war. She trusted this man who had raised her, but it hurt so badly inside. So many changes to yield to, none of which she liked.
A sudden boom of thunder shook her from her thoughts, and the lightning lit up the property before her. Her grandfather’s timber mill sat along the edge of the river among the ageless, majestic oak trees. Those mighty giants growing along with a few magnolia trees created a path to the house with its pointy, gabled roofline and wraparound porch.
Elizabeth inhaled long and hard in an effort to breathe in her surroundings. She wanted her home to seep deeper into her soul. This spirited Southern woman didn’t want to forget any detail of her beloved Louisiana home.
The almost-full moon drifted behind the storm clouds as they blanketed the timber mill. A raccoon clicked his forest call and the cool wind of the storm called out goosebumps on Elizabeth. She tightened her arms as if to hold herself together. A single tear slid down her cheek and stopped under her chin like a raindrop on the brink of a rooftop. Her thoughts drifted back over the years, moving like thick threads through memories of the timber mill and what it meant to her family.
Generations ago, her great-grandfather settled on this land. He had brought his bride here, and Elizabeth’s Grandpa Lucas was born in this very house. Grandpa Lucas married and raised his daughters and one son at this timber mill. Elizabeth was just six years old, her sister Megan just two, when they came to live at this big white house. The Riverton Timber Mill had been passed down through the generations.
To sell out and move on is unthinkable.
Elizabeth’s fingers worked slowly to release her long blonde hair from its thick braid. The dampness of the night curled a few locks framing the smooth features of her face. Tears stung her dark blue eyes as she watched the raindrops hop around on the steps before running together and forming a puddle under the magnolia tree. She shifted back from the pillar and leaned on the porch railing. Memorizing every part of this home, she reached out to touch a thick waxy leaf on the tree, admiring the beautiful blossoms that had opened to the size of dinner plates. The fragrance radiated over the porch, filling the night air with its calming power.
Tears fell freely as the reality of leaving Riverton set in, but the storm covered her sobs. She hated for anyone to see her weakness. For a moment, the moon peeked out from between the clouds, as if to say it saw her tears. She batted at them and hid them on her apron. The rain began to move on, but Elizabeth continued to brood at the rumbling night sky.
In the quiet darkness of the kitchen, behind the screen door, she caught a glimpse of Grandpa Lucas as he looked out at Elizabeth and bowed his head to pray.
A
prils in Lecompte, Louisiana, were spectacular, especially after a spring rain. New life was bursting forth with the world full of rainbow colors and delightful fragrances. The days could be long and lingering and the mugginess heavy, but it was all worth it in the beautiful countryside.
Liz sat across from her grandfather in the comfortable parlor. The essence of gardenias and magnolias floated through the open window and filled the room with their sweet scents. The curtains fluttered and hung on the breeze.
She always felt secure and calm with her grandfather. Even at his advanced age, he still seemed strong as an ox. He stood tall, with a thick chest and a heart of gold. His thick gray hair and whiskered chin gave him a ruggedly handsome look.
With a smile that reflected the wisdom of many years, Grandpa Lucas took his work-worn hands and patted her small ones.
“So our decision has been made?”
It was a statement as much as a question. He looked at his granddaughter, and she remained silent. Liz had made her decision the night before while standing on the white porch as the rain poured down. But could she live up to it now? She knew her attitude would set the mood for all the other women. This plan had been in the making for quite some time and wasn’t new to any of them. But now, as the time grew closer and closer, she felt unsure. She had just lost her husband, Caleb, and now would be leaving her home too.
“Liz, I firmly believe this is the right thing to do. We will look back and be pleased with our decision.”
Lucas Mailly had always treated the women in his family with respect and allowed them to voice their opinions. He encouraged their education and urged them to become leaders among their peers. He would never have forced any of this change on them.
Liz spoke softly and looked at his loving hands covering hers. “So do I. I’m ready to start planning and packing,” she said as she smiled at her grandfather, reassuring him with her choice. “We can be ready in a few weeks.”
Lucas stood up and faced the fireplace, his back to her. His hand went to the painting of his Claire up on the mantel and quickly moved to his face, making a rough sound on his cheek as an unexpected tear slid over the whiskers. This decision to leave, now upon them quickly, hit him unexpectedly.
Although he had turned away from her, Liz noticed as he wiped away the unwelcome tear, not meant to be seen by her. She blinked back a tear of her own and took a quick breath to steady herself. Trying to think of something to break the silence, she cheerfully said, “I got another letter from Abby and Emma yesterday. They received our letter and are coming with us! But their cousin Sadie won’t be traveling with us. Sounds like her father told her no.”
Liz knew that Grandpa Lucas Mailly had never been fond of the man who married his daughter. The Wilkes family owned a large plantation in Mississippi with many slaves. They had an arrogant nature about them and Lucas always felt they abused the women too. Katherine, his youngest daughter, had become a different woman after she married John and moved away to the Wilkes brothers’ plantation. He didn’t seem too surprised about Sadie not coming, and Liz knew he hadn’t been quite sure how his other two granddaughters could get away with leaving, but he’d been excited nevertheless with their decision to go.
Her grandfather had explained that he wanted to protect his family from the growing unrest in the South, and he felt it better to sell his timber mill now than to lose it in a skirmish. His son-in-law wouldn’t listen to him about selling out the Mississippi plantation and he called him a “crazy man.”
“Well, it’s just as well that Sadie isn’t coming. You may not realize it, Liz, but not all females are like you and your sister. Sadie could hold you back, even be a problem. Your cousins are not as strong as you and your sister.”
Liz blushed and answered, “It will be fine, Grandpa. I don’t want you to worry over it. Abby and Emma will be just fine with it all.”
She had grown accustomed to his praise and encouragement, well aware that women were treated differently in other families, and in the world in general.
Abby and Emma had confided in her and Megan about their father’s ways. They were going West, with or without their father’s blessings. But he was finished with the two rebellious daughters and more than ready to wash his hands of them. If their Grandpa Lucas wanted them, so be it.