Child of the River Read online

  “Forget? Forget? Have you forgotten your dead brother so soon?”

  “No. I shall always remember Darron. My brother died for a glorious cause. The same cause I fought for. I shall never forget Darron.” Andrew warmed himself by the fire and stoked it with a poker. “There were casualties and heartaches on both sides.”

  The old man began to curse. “I wish every last Rebel….” He gritted his teeth bitterly.

  “I witnessed enough death and pain and hatred to last me several lifetimes,” Andrew said quietly. “Now that it is finally over, I want to resume my life and my career. It’s time to put the Civil War behind us and try to pull this nation together.”

  “Poppycock! The bloodshed may be over, but the political war will be fought for many years to come. It’ll take generations, indeed centuries, to heal the battle scars invoked by an unruly South. Andrew, I forbid you to continue associating with a Rebel.” Mr. Moorwell trembled with rage. He removed the cork from a medicine bottle and took a pill. “No son of mine….”

  “Calm yourself, Father. Don’t work yourself into another stroke. Sir, I’m not a lad. I’m almost thirty. I choose my own associates and….”

  “I warn you!” His father’s voice rose to a shout. “I’ll cut you off without a penny if you continue this double-mindedness!” He shook his cane at Andrew. “If I were able, I’d take a strap to you!”

  Andrew’s fierce pride took control. He stood erect with chin up, studying his bitter father intently before he answered. “I refuse to be a yes man to you, sir, or anyone else. My inheritance or disinheritance is your choice.”

  Although disappointed in Andrew’s decision, the old man’s heart was jubilant though he gave no indication of relenting. He felt a certain respect for this son of his. I have reared a man, he mused. Even my threat of disinheritance doesn’t deter him. He reminds me of myself…the time I stood up to old Squire Dunsbury when he refused to give permission for me to marry Kathleen. I told the crabby old codger “to hell with her dowry”. We’d make it on our own and we did. I amassed a fortune that dwarfed his.

  Mr. Moorwell gazed intently at his son, his face still set in an angry scowl. Yes, my son, he thought. I believe you will’ make your place in the world with or without my money.

  Benjamin set the valise down by the library and knocked before entering. “Please extend my condolences to Mrs. Moorwell. I understand your sentiments and your grief, sir. I will stay the remainder of my vacation at the inn.”

  Moorwell didn’t answer. He just grunted. His fury with Confederates was beyond covering up.

  “I’ll have the chauffeur bring the carriage around," Andrew said quickly. His face was flushed with embarrassment, but he managed a slight grin. “Think I’ll tag along.” He placed a strong hand on his father’s shoulder, but the old man shrugged it off. “Father, I….” Realizing the futility of trying to reason with a man so set in his ways, Andrew again stood tall, his countenance determined. “I shall return for a short visit with Mother before returning to Cambridge.”

  Benjamin was naturally curious about his date as the two men dressed in formal attire. He didn’t, however, question Andrew. He was prepared to escort the girl with utmost courtesy, even if she resembled a kangaroo. He planned to put forth every effort to make her feel feminine and show her a good time. There was much to gain through Andrew’s friendship.

  The gaslight at the entrance to the Pittman estate glowed blue in the haze of the falling snow. The butler offered them brandy. They waited in the foyer near the stairway for the girls to appear.

  “Women,” Andrew remarked, looking at his gold pocket watch. “It’s after eight. They’ve probably been ready for hours, but we’ll still have to wait, old chum. It’s part of their game.”

  Benjamin nodded in agreement. “Always.”

  They finished the glass of brandy and poured another before Eloise peeked down from the head of the stairs. “You’re early,” she called to Andrew and blew him a kiss. “Come on, Molly, the fellows are here.”

  Andrew whispered out of the side of his mouth to Benjamin. “As if she didn’t know.” He hugged Eloise warmly and held her out at arm’s length. “Eloise, my darling, you are positively stunning in that gorgeous violet dress. You will be the belle of the ball. I could well lose you at the stag line.” He introduced the girl to Benjamin and explained. “We’ve been sweethearts since childhood. We know each other so well it’s doubtful we’ll ever marry. Every time I try to pin her down to set the date, she laughs.”

  Eloise giggled. “We have so much fun courting,” she said facetiously, flirting with Andrew. “It would be a shame to spoil it.”

  The three chatted for another five minutes before Molly began descending the stairs. “It’s about time,” Eloise scolded. “The ball started almost an hour ago.”

  Molly was flabbergasted when her eyes came to rest on Benjamin. “Benjamin Farrington! I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing in Boston?”

  Benjamin, too, was stunned. It took a moment for him to answer. After all the searching, the detectives he hired, here he was face to face with Molly Allison. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Molly,” he finally found his voice and it was almost a whisper. “It’s you…it’s really you.”

  Andrew and Eloise exchanged astonished glances. “You two know each other?” Eloise asked. “We had no idea. What a delightful coincidence.”

  “Yes,” Molly murmured, not taking her eyes off Benjamin. “It was a long time ago, before the war.” She managed a weak, flustered smile that bewildered him.

  Benjamin kissed Molly’s hand. “I thought you were lost forever. I inquired all over town. Last year, I….”

  “When war appeared inevitable, we left town,” Molly interrupted quickly. “Our visit to Vicksburg happened at the wrong time.”

  What does she mean visit? Benjamin was puzzled. He wondered why Molly lied. From her tone, it was obvious that neither Eloise nor Andrew knew she ever lived in Mississippi.

  Eloise gave her mother a peck on the cheek and donned a velvet wrap. “It’s too cold for Mrs. Pipkin to go with us. Can’t the chauffeur chaperone just this once?”

  Her mother was reluctant to give her permission. “The carriage is closed. How can he chaperone?”

  “Mother, there are four of us.”

  “Well, the weather is terrible and Mrs. Pipkin has been feeling poorly. All right, this once. Don’t get the idea it will happen again. I was young once. I know how important this ball is to you.”

  On the way to the carriage, Molly whispered in desperation to Benjamin. “Please understand. I’ll explain later. Bear with me.”

  “Were you a Rebel soldier, Benjamin?” Eloise could contain her curiosity no longer. She had never met a Confederate before.

  “Yes, he was,” Andrew interceded. “And look at him. He has no horns. He doesn’t even have a tail. The war is over.”

  “Of course,”" Eloise cooed. It seemed incredulous and adventurous to be in the company of the former enemy. She found the experience intriguing.

  “It’s best not to boast about it at the ball,” Molly told him. “It would be an invitation for trouble.”

  Benjamin was still trying to figure Molly out. “I have no intentions of re-fighting the war, but if the subject arises, I certainly won’t shrink from it.” The fact that he was north of the Mason-Dixon line in no way made him feel inferior. His mind was full of questions. He was more miffed at Molly than hurt, and it surprised him to feel that way.

  He danced the first waltz with Molly, whirling her gracefully around the dance floor. When the music stopped, he whisked her out the door and into the drawing room and closed the door. Molly didn’t resist. She, too, needed to talk privately.

  His dark brows knitted. “What’s going on? Why did you lie? Why are you hiding the fact that you are from Mississippi? Why didn’t you write to me?”

  Molly sighed. She walked around the room, and her back was toward him when she fi
nally murmured, “It’s not easy to answer. Suppose I am keeping my southern roots secret. It’s not a crime, you know.”

  “It most certainly is. It’s deceitful!” Benjamin’s tone was sharp and bitter. “I even hired Pinkerton men to search for you. I….”

  “Benjamin, please!” She was indignant and defiant. “I’m not accustomed to your tone of voice.”

  “You’re the last person I’d expect to be a turncoat,” he interrupted. “A…a scalawag! How could you be a traitor to your own people? You’re no better than the copperheads who stayed!”

  Offended and resentful, Molly had no qualms whatsoever about switching sides. She and her mother moved to Boston two years ago, she told him, from Oberlin, Ohio, where she earned a fine arts degree. Oberlin was the first co-educational facility in the entire world. It began educating women and Negro students on an equal basis with men as early as 1833. Both the students and faculty were active in the anti-slavery movement. Therefore, Molly explained, it was imperative to keep secret the fact they were southerners. As far as anyone in Oberlin knew, the Allisons were from Massachusetts. It was easier in Boston, for they moved there from Ohio. In spite of the years the family lived in Vicksburg, Mrs. Allison had retained her Bostonian accent, and her daughter emulated her mother’s diction.

  “Had I disclosed my southern background,” Molly explained, “or shown sentiment toward the Confederacy, I’d have been ostracized by society. We kept our mouths shut. Patriotic people here would let us know in no uncertain terms that we are not welcome if they find out.”

  Benjamin studied the girl while she talked. You did a complete about-face, he mused. Joined anti-slavery rallies, dated Union soldiers and went to all their victory parties…never once looking back at me. “You’re a traitor,” he repeated.

  Lifting her beautiful chin defiantly, Molly’s heavenly blue eyes were wide and innocent. “I most certainly am not! How can you say that? We’re northerners. Mother was born in Boston. Our family roots are here. My first allegiance is to my family.”

  “You were born in Mississippi,” Benjamin replied. “That makes you a Mississippian.”

  “It most certainly does not!” Molly retorted in an exasperated tone. “I can’t help where I was born. Suppose I was born on an ocean liner in the middle of the Atlantic. Would that make me an oceanite? You’re unfair and cruel to accuse me.” Her lower lip pouted. “I do hope you’re not planning to ruin a perfectly beautiful evening with accusations.”

  “I loved you,” Benjamin said bitterly. “You said you loved me. We planned to be married. Why did you lead me on, saying you’d wait for me? You despised me all along.”

  Molly’s creamy arms crept around his neck. “Oh Benjamin, I did care, really I did. I didn’t want anything dreadful to happen to you. Mother said we should make a clean break with the past after Father died. She was right, you know. We left by night and told no one. I do hope you won’t pursue the subject in front of my friends. As far as they know, I was born in Ohio. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t give your shoddy little scheme away.”

  “I read about the awful destruction in Vicksburg. I suppose it left you penniless, and I’m sorry about that.” The girl opened the drawing room door. “Really, it’s wonderful seeing you again,” she said absently as she scanned the dance floor looking for someone. “Enjoy yourself. Ask some of the other girls to dance. I want to circulate a bit. Thomas Warner is motioning to me with a cup of punch.”

  Benjamin surmised the situation as he watched her go to the punch table. If she thinks I’m broke, so be it. Strange. I feel no jealousy as in the past. She’s flirting with that Warner fellow, and I really don’t care. Shallow little Molly…counterfeit and unfeeling Molly. With her polished social manners, so cultured, so spoiled, so perfectly snobbish and obnoxious. What do I see in her? Why am I so fascinated with this beautiful creature? Molly doesn’t see why there should be a reason for deserting the South. She just did. That’s that, as far as she’s concerned.

  The man compared Molly to Dayme. Dayme is from the wrong side of town. She’s headstrong, but she’s genuine and honest. That’s the trouble. She’s too candid. So she lived in a brothel, so what? She doesn’t care what people think. I think that I shall never understand women.

  When the couple whirled past Benjamin, he decided it must be the man’s money that caught Molly’s eye because it certainly wasn’t his looks. Well, he can have her. I want no part of this transparent little scalawag. Or do I? Molly’s allusiveness is perhaps her greatest charm.

  It had stopped snowing when time came to take the girls home. The air was still and crisp and there were sounds of laughter mingled with the muffled sound of horses’ hooves trotting over the snow-covered brick street. The foursome chatted inside the carriage.

  A chance remark by Andrew caused Molly to realize that Benjamin wasn’t insolvent like she thought, after all. She felt foolish when Andrew remarked, “With the stock market rise, I suppose your mills are doing well.”

  Benjamin nodded. “I’m expecting a handsome return on the overseas investment. I’ve invested in real estate and recently purchased steel stock. Steel is the industry of the future. Just think, Andrew, in a few years, this country will be crisscrossed with railroads reaching the remotest villages. Cattle that are driven to market will be shipped by rail, and….”

  “I heartily agree,” Andrew replied. “I’m into steel, too. You may be right about real estate. It should be cheap in the South now. No offense, old chum. You have the cotton industry sewed up, if you don’t mind a pun.” He chuckled, pleased with Benjamin’s successes. “First you raise the cotton, gin it in your own gins, then mill it into cloth in your own mills. Now, you’re hiring French designers and will soon be selling clothes. Pretty clever, old chum…investing in railroads to distribute. Actually, you don’t need a law degree with your business expertise. Man, You’ve got it made.”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Most lawmakers are into law. Like I told you before, it’s a stepping stone to Washington.”

  “Business!” Eloise complained. “Must men always talk business?”

  Molly’s cheeks burned in spite of the cold while she listened to the two men talk. “I wish I’d known before I made a complete fool of myself,” she apologized. “I feel like a dunce. I’m embarrassed. I assumed you were bankrupt like most southerners. What can I say?”

  Benjamin smiled smugly. Funny, it didn’t matter what Molly thought. He would be glad when it was time to board the train back to Cambridge. “No matter, Molly,” he answered in an amused tone. “I thought nothing of it. Frankly, I found it rather amusing. Don’t worry your beautiful head about it.”

  Molly dropped her eyes. “I wish you had told me,” she said quietly.

  Benjamin chuckled. “You didn’t give me an opportunity,” he teased. “You were too busy chasing that Warner fellow around the dance floor.” Eloise giggled but Molly was mortified.

  “I did not!” Molly spluttered. “Thomas was chasing me!”

  “Not from where I was standing.”

  Eloise smothered another giggle, and Andrew cleared his throat to keep from laughing. “You thought Benjamin was a pauper? Quite the contrary, Molly, quite the contrary.”

  “Thomas Warner is not easy prey,” Eloise teased. “His parents are encouraging a match with the Loverage girl. I simply cannot stand Mary Louise. She’s an absolute witch.”

  Molly ignored Eloise’s chatter. She continued to probe about Benjamin’s finances. “But…how can it be?” She was risking exposure, but there wasn’t much time until Benjamin had to leave for Harvard. “Confederate money is worthless, and I thought surely you were destitute.”

  “Are you disappointed, Molly? Larkspur weathered the war with only a few scars. Last winter’s crop was exceptionally good. There’s a demand for cotton worldwide, making prices high. Opportunity arose to purchase some gins and mills, so I grabbed them. But, my dear Molly, I don’t depend on cott
on alone for my livelihood. Mother gave large sums of money to support the Confederacy, but she wisely left the bulk of our estate in the Bank of London.” Benjamin was having a good time with the little gold-digger so he expounded further. “Then there was the small matter of a fortune in buried gold coins my father collected all his life. I’ve made some sound investments.”

  Molly snuggled against him. “I’m cold,” she said.

  Benjamin removed his topcoat and placed it around the girl’s shoulders. He sat in the opposite corner for the remainder of the ride. It wasn’t exactly what Molly had in mind.

  Hesitating in the carriage while Andrew walked Eloise to the front door, Molly turned frantically to Benjamin. “Please understand,” she cried. “My heart was with you and the Confederacy all through that awful war. I’m only a helpless girl. What else could I do under the circumstances? With Father gone, Mother and I had nothing to hold us in Mississippi. Grandfather would have disinherited Mother had she not chosen to take me north. Oh Benjamin, it’s so wonderful to find each other again. You’ll never know how many long nights I’ve lain awake weeping into my pillow and praying for your safety, and thinking about Mississippi and all the good times we had together. I don’t want to ever let you go, my darling.” Molly lifted her lips to be kissed, but Benjamin appeared not to notice as he stepped down from the carriage and took her hand and escorted her to the door. He kissed her hand and said goodnight.

  “Will…will you call for me again soon?”

  Benjamin tipped his hat. “I doubt that I shall pass this way anytime in the near future. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  Chapter 18

  SPRINGTIME, 1867 in Menard County, Texas

  Author’s Note:

  (Purple boughs of redbud blossoms always herald the first hint of spring with a blaze of color peeking through variegated shades of green on the hillsides. Orchid-like orange blooms appear on prickly pear, a plant the settlers found to be most useful. In times of drought, ranchers sustained their herds by burning the thorns off prickly pear for cattle feed. The sticky juice was used in making paint and wave-set lotion for the ladies. The stickery pear-apples made excellent jelly.