Courting Holly (4 page)

A distant memory of being alone at the water’s edge and watching an alligator swim past came into focus. She’d been told they were dangerous and to stay away from the water’s edge. But at four, and feeling very much assured in her own abilities, she’d faced the creature. She’d known even at that early age that their skin was like soft leather, and she loved the feel of it. What would be so wrong in petting an alligator? she’d reasoned. She’d looked over her shoulders and put on her rubber boots, then taken a single step into the marsh.

“Holly Elizabeth Landers, you come back right this very moment!” Momma’s voice had reprimanded.

She
was
a Landers! When did she become a Graham? Had she, legally? Holly closed her eyes and collapsed on her bed. “This is too much, God. Why?”

Chapter 4

B
ryce finished the notes for his brothers regarding the oversight of operations for the plantation. He’d worked late into the night to be available for Holly. He closed the lid of the drop-front mahogany secretary. He’d had the desk designed with the same wood and hand-carved moldings as his father’s desk. Bryce’s desk gave him a small area to keep the papers pertaining to the operation of the plantation separate from his father’s legal and family papers. He slipped the key into his pocket and turned at the voice of his mother. “You’re up bright and early this morning, son. How are you?” His mother leaned against the doorway with a mug of coffee in her hand.

“Fine. That smells good.”

“I made a full pot. Did you sleep?”

“I managed a few hours. I take it you knew all about Holly and her family?”

She stepped farther into the room. “I knew John wasn’t her biological father, yes. And I knew Emmett Landers was her real father. I didn’t know about the letters or the reasons for keeping Holly in the dark.”

Bryce stood, walked around to the front of his father’s desk and leaned against it.

“How is she doing?” She took another step into the home office and sipped her coffee.

“This information didn’t surface at a good time. I cannot imagine dealing with the loss of a parent and discovering that kind of news. I am your son, right?”

His mother smiled as she sat in the soft-cushioned sofa and arranged her nightgown and robe. “Yes, you are my son and your father’s.”

“Well, I knew I was his, we have too many similar features.”

“That you do.” She winked and took another sip.

“Do you have any idea why Allison Graham would have chosen to keep this information a secret from Holly?”

“I’m afraid not. It was a subject Allison never wanted to talk about. I do know from your father that John was quite concerned he’d lose Allison to Emmett when he returned from the war. She truly loved Emmett. But she loved John, too, for that matter. I cannot imagine being forced to choose.”

“Nor I.” Bryce raked his hair back from his face. “Mother, I want to do right by Holly but she is so vulnerable right now. It is going to take all of my strength and willpower not to succumb to my own desires. I almost asked her to marry me last night. It is a blur. I do remember promising that I would take her to Venice under one condition, that she’d come as my wife.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from his mother and caught her gaze.

“It was more of a tease, but truth is truth. I do love her and I do want her to be my bride, but this is not the time to ask, or act.”

“Be patient, son. There will be a time and a place. You know the passage in Ecclesiastes 3:1. ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.’ I cannot speak to God’s timing but I do know from the few short years I have lived, that ultimately God’s timing and purpose is best.”

“Yes, but is this God’s timing or man’s? Do the careless actions of Whit Butterfield equal God’s plans or did man interrupt God’s perfect plan?”

She placed her coffee mug down and motioned for him to take a seat beside her. “I cannot say what happened the other day with Mr. Butterfield was God’s perfect plan for Allison, but I do know that God was very aware of what would happen. Why He allows people to make mistakes that harm themselves or others, I do not know or understand. But I do know that He is a God of comfort and compassion and He will give Holly and us the peace we are looking for during this tragedy.”

Bryce clasped his hands together and bent his head. “I know, but I am still dealing with my anger toward Whit, even though it wasn’t all his fault.”

“I understand. But remember, my son, Whit is suffering, as well. I cannot imagine being responsible for someone’s death and having to live with that kind of knowledge.”

Bryce pulled his gaze from his hands to his mother’s face. He knew how she mourned Allison Graham, her closest friend and confidante. And yet in her eyes he saw compassion for Whit. Somehow, she could forgive him.

How?
God’s grace.
The answer flew into his mind the moment he thought the question. Followed by the image of him extending his hand to Whit Butterfield in kindness and compassion.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“Nothing. Just something I remembered I should do.”

“Oh, all right then. I am going to get dressed for the day. I will ride with you to the Grahams.”

“I shall have the carriage ready.” Bryce stood and followed his mother out of the room, watching as she ascended the stairs.

A knock at the front door pushed him back into a man of action. Opening the door, his hand tightened on the knob. Not in a million years would he expect to see this person standing at his door.

“Hello, Bryce.”

* * *

Holly woke to the gentle knocking on her door. “Holly?”

“Tiff, what time is it?”

“Ten. Papa thought I should check on you.”

Holly bolted up from the bed and straightened her nightclothes. “Tell Father I’ll be down in a moment.”

“All right.” Tiffany turned and paused. “Holly, who is Emmett Landers?”

She debated whether to confide in Tiffany. The truth would need to come out sometime. Should she be the one to tell? Yes, yes, she should. It was her life, her parentage, and too many secrets had been kept. “My father.”

“Pardon?”

Tiffany listened with despair as Holly recited what she understood so far. “What are you going to do? Are you going to move away and live with your father?”

“I don’t know. I have many questions and both our fathers are the only ones who can give me the answers. Please don’t tell the boys yet. They may not understand all of this.”

Tiffany came and sat on Holly’s bed. “I don’t know what to think. You never knew?”

“I recalled a childhood memory late last night, or rather, early this morning. I remember being four years old and at the water’s edge and Momma calling me back to the house using all three of my names. Holly Elizabeth Landers.”

“If we were in trouble Momma always did that.” Tiffany smiled. “So she called you Landers, not Graham, in this memory?”

“Yes, so I guess way down deep I knew the truth. Most of my memories start from about five years old.”

“So do mine. You’ve always been my big sister.”

“And I will always be your big sister, there is no changing that. We might have different fathers, but we have the same mother.”

“Yes, but you got Momma’s looks and I got Father’s complexion.”

“Be glad for that, you don’t burn like I do in the Savannah sun.”

“True, but I always loved your and Momma’s green eyes. Mine are just brown, plain old brown.”

Holly sat on the bed next to her sister. “You are a beautiful young woman, Tiff, remember that.”

“Oh, I know I’m pretty. The boys at school tell me all the time.” Tiffany grinned, half joking.

“And do I need to report this to Father?”

“Don’t you dare. I like the attention. Momma told me to be careful.”

“And I’ll second that. Wait until you are older before you consider courting.”

“Well, I’m not going to wait until I’m twenty-one, that’s just too old. I guess I see now why Momma and Papa didn’t want you to get involved with anyone before you were twenty-one, but why did they decide to wait so long to tell you? Wouldn’t it have been wiser to tell you when, perhaps, you were sixteen or eighteen even?”

“That’s another question I don’t have the answer to, but I aim to find out.” Holly got up and decided to dress while chatting with her sister. She walked behind the dressing wall and removed her nightgown.

“I cannot imagine what it would be like to learn this. What are you going to do? Marry Bryce and run away to Venice?”

Holly popped her head around the partition. “Were you listening last night?”

Tiffany blushed. “A little. So, are you and Bryce going to Venice?”

“No.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

“Did you go to the barn last night, too?”

Tiffany giggled. “No. What happened in the barn?”

“Nothing.” Holly felt the heat of her own blush. Not looking into the mirror, she suspected her blush to be about three times darker than Tiffany’s.

“Did you kiss him? He likes you, you know. When you’re not looking he’s always staring at you.”

“He is?” Holly paused buttoning her blue blouse.

“Uh-huh. I heard him ask Papa to court you a couple of years ago.”

“You are a little eavesdropper, aren’t you?” Her hands shook as she buttoned the next button.

“Maybe. I just hear things. People don’t always look when they are speaking. Last night I was listening, though.”

Holly decided not to ask any further questions regarding Bryce. “How are Father and the boys today?”

“I think we are all still overwhelmed by Momma being gone. Mrs. Jarvis has been cooking and cleaning all morning. But I saw her wiping away tears, too. She and Momma were good friends.”

“Yes, they were.” Holly finished dressing then stood in front of her mirror and brushed out her hair.

Tiffany came up behind her. “Sit and allow me.”

Holly handed the hairbrush to her sister and sat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So, you didn’t sleep well?”

“No, too much on my mind.”

“Me, neither. I kept crying and thinking about Momma and how much I was going to miss her.”

“Me, too.” Holly closed her eyes and remembered her mother’s hands going through her hair. She smiled and opened her eyes, looking into the mirror and into her sister’s deep brown eyes. “You have Momma’s touch. You brush my hair the same way Momma did.”

Tiffany smiled. “I loved the way she brushed my hair.”

“Me, too.”

The sisters continued brushing and losing themselves to the memories of their mother. Holly felt closer to Mother having Tiffany’s fingers combing through her hair. “Marvelous job, Tiff.”

“Thank you. It’s all in the wrists.” They giggled together. Holly rose and wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “It’s time for us both to go and meet my father.”

“How strange is that?” Tiffany said and followed in step with her sister. “Even though you’ve told me, I still cannot believe you aren’t Papa’s daughter.”

“Oh, I am his daughter. He raised me. He’ll always be my father. I just have two now.”

Tiffany laughed. “Some people have all the luck.”

Unable to stop herself, Holly laughed all the way down the stairs. Seeing her two fathers standing at the front door smothered the gaiety.

“Good morning, Fathers. I apologize for sleeping late.”

John Graham’s mouth gaped open.

Holly held down a dangerous smile. “I told Tiffany this morning.” Her stepfather nodded. Emmett Landers nodded with a slight turn of the head.
Does my father have the same willful spirit?
“Is there any breakfast left?”

“Mrs. Jarvis saved a plate for you in the kitchen. We were about to take a walk around the property. Would you like to join us?” John offered.

“No, thank you. I will visit with Father Landers... With...Mr. Landers later. It will give Bryce and me a chance to go over the other letters.”

“Letters?” Tiffany inquired.

“We will talk later, Tiffany. Right now I need to eat.”

Tiffany smiled. “I look forward to it. I don’t have to go to school today, but I must write my book report.”

The men retreated out the door. Holly could tell they were as nervous as she. Tiffany ran back up the stairs and Holly headed into the kitchen. The fresh smell of baking bread filled the room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Jarvis.”

“Good morning to you, child. How did you sleep?”

“Not very well. The sun was coming up over the horizon by the time I started to slumber.”

“You set yourself right down and I will serve you. I made some fresh berry juice. Would you like some?”

“Yes, thank you.” Holly sat at the small maple table in the kitchen. “Is Bryce here?”

“Out in the barn. He said to let him know when you woke.”

Mrs. Jarvis placed the warm plate in front of her. A couple slices of French toast with a pool of butter on top stood proudly in the center. Next to that were three slices of bacon. She also placed a gravy boat with hot cane syrup beside her plate. “Coffee, tea?”

“Tea, thank you.”

“I will have the juice in a moment.”

Holly lowered her head and silently offered a brief prayer of thanks for the food. She paused then poured the hot syrup.

The back door squeaked open. Bryce stood in the doorway. “I will fix that squeak later. How are you?” He smiled. He looked as tired as she felt. But he was still...handsome. Six feet tall, with broad shoulders and the most comfortable chest to snuggle into...

Holly quelled her impure thoughts and went back to her breakfast.

“Awake,” she answered. “You look like you didn’t get much sleep, either.”

“I had some work to do.” He stepped up to the sink and washed his hands.

Mrs. Jarvis placed the juice in front of Holly. “Can I get you something, son?”

“Coffee, thanks.” She nodded and he sat beside Holly. “How did you sleep?”

“Not well, I fell asleep around dawn.”

“I was up before. I had an interesting visitor this morning.”

“Oh?” Holly continued to eat her breakfast. It looked and smelled great but she noticed it had little taste. Food and health were important so she would continue to eat even though food had lost its flavor.

“An old schoolmate of mine. His name is Henry Rushton. He hails from Augusta, sailed down the river on his father’s old plantation pole boat. He said he was on vacation, resting and relaxing after a hard summer and taking some time off before the harvest. He converted the boat so it has a long narrow room with a bed and a small kitchen.”

“How’s he going to move it upstream?”

“Apparently he put a small steam engine on it. It won’t go too fast, but enough to go up the Savannah River.”

Mrs. Jarvis handed her son his coffee.

“Are you up for reading the letters with me this morning?” she asked, hoping he still wanted to.

“If that is your wish.”

“I have no choice. My father is here and I need to know what is in those two letters before I can even consider speaking with him.”