River

Thomas

I am delighted to see Nancy coming out onto the front portico when she hears my horse approach the house at Ellis Cliffs.

“Welcome, Mr. Butler,” she greets me formally, but with the twinkle in her eye that I love so much. “Are you returning from Louisiana?” I dismount and a slave comes from the stables to take my horse.

“I am indeed. I thought I would stop off here to see if anything needs doing for the grand event. Perhaps Margaret might have a message to send to her fiance?”

Nancy guffaws, dropping her ladylike pretensions. It makes me love her all the more. “Yes, the ‘grand event’ it is!” she says, guiding me into the house. “We have been doing nothing but wedding preparations for months now. I’m looking forward to having it done!”

She leads me into the parlor, and offers me a seat. “I’ll go tell Margaret that you’re here. She is so busy deciding how to pack everything up that she probably didn’t hear you arrive.”

I note that she hasn’t mentioned her parents, presumably they are both busy. Soon Margaret accompanies her sister back into the parlor, giving instructions to a nearby slave to arrange for refreshments. I’m glad for that. The road was very dusty and hot.

“I’m so pleased to see you, Mr. Butler,” Margaret tells me. “Nancy said you offered to bring any messages to Stephen? As a matter of fact, I have a letter I would like to have delivered, if you would be so kind.”

“Of course,” I grin, thinking about my position as the deliverer of love notes between them. The sooner those two are married the better. Just a few days now, though.

The refreshments arrive as Mrs. Ellis enters the parlor. “Welcome, Mr. Butler,” she says, immediately taking a seat. She looks very pale. I see her daughters glance at her somewhat worriedly. Nancy told me last time I was here that she is worried that her mother is exhausting herself with the wedding preparations. It appears to be so.

Margaret’s maid is helping serve the refreshments, with her little girl tagging along behind her. As soon as the toddler sees me sitting there, she immediately asks me in a hopeful tone, “Woosh?”

I have to laugh. “No, sorry little one, no Woosh for you today.” It’s strange how this baby seems to understand that perfectly fine, getting a sad little expression on her face as she realizes that I am visiting without Gregor. Why she has taken such a fancy to the fellow I have no idea. But it is very cute.

Abraham Ellis comes in the room just then, and I am surprised to see him glowering at the baby. Apparently he is not as amused by her antics as everyone else. Her mother immediately picks her up and takes her out of the room.

After a half an hour or so of conversation about the upcoming wedding, I apologize and say that I must take my leave. Margaret rises and says, “One moment, please, Mr. Butler, I will get the letter for Stephen.” Nancy grins at me as we watch her run out of the room. Apparently I am to have no real chance to talk to Nancy alone today, but there is still lots of time in the years ahead.

When I receive the letter, it smells suspiciously like it has just been sprinkled with perfume. “I will see you all in a few days in Natchez,” I tell them as I depart. “The wedding day is nearly upon us!” Margaret clasps her hands together, and Nancy laughs.

I take the sweet sound of her laughter with me as I spur my horse up the road.

Samuel Duncan

Stephen and I are finishing our last patient notes for the day when Thomas comes bursting in the door, grinning from ear to ear and waving a letter above his head. “Missive from the Marvelous Miss Margaret!” he proclaims.

Stephen literally drops whatever he was doing, scattering papers on the floor, and leaps up to grab the note out of his friend’s hand. He glances down long enough to see that it appears to be of substantial thickness, probably two or three pages folded together. He brings it up to his nose to take a sniff, and his eyes widen when he smells her perfume that I can detect even from here. “I’ll be upstairs,” he says, rushing out the front door to climb the stairs to our rooms above the medical office.

Thomas and I are left alone, staring at each other with amusement. He guffaws. “You’re welcome!” he bellows out the door behind Stephen.

I laugh and start gathering up the papers that Stephen tossed on the floor in his haste to read Margaret’s letter. “Sit down, Thomas. How was your trip?”

“Good. I was very productive in Feliciana. I think I will be ready to settle there more permanently in a couple of months, after I’ve taken care of Stephen’s plantation for him while he’s on his honeymoon.”

“We’ll miss you here,” I tell him.

“Bah. I’ll be visiting all the time. It’s only a couple days’ ride. Anything interesting going on around Natchez since I left?”

“Gregor’s got his pile driver machine all set. He says they’ll start actually pounding in the logs for the dock tomorrow. Oh - and he has put up the money for a reward for the capture of that brigand, Mason.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve gotten paranoid traveling by myself. I know his band pretty much sticks to the Trace so I was probably safe traveling south of here, but it is still nerve-wracking after all the time I’ve spent with the militia hunting him down. They’ve done some awful things. The sooner they are captured the better.”

I nod. “That’s what I’ve heard. I think I got off light on my trip, just the one incident that Gregor ended up preventing.”

“Well, if there’s a reward now, maybe we’ll have better luck.” He looks around. “I’m starving. Think Stephen will be ready any time soon to go to the club and get some dinner?”

“Pfsh!” I scoff. “He’ll read that letter repeatedly until the paper has been worn to scraps. Let’s go, he’ll catch up.”

Uncles Samuel and Henry are at their table when we arrive, of course. I don’t suppose Aunt Ann Postlethwaite ever has to arrange dinner for them. They are here almost every single evening. Uncle Samuel greets Thomas with delight, wanting to hear all the news about his travels, and to share the news about his conversations regarding the reward money with the militia.

I find my mind drifting, which has become my usual state of affairs. Ever since Gregor mentioned that he has hired Ben for his crew, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Ben is still in town. I close my eyes very briefly and feel his arms, then force myself to stop it. I try to attend to the conversation. But no, my mind is soon drifting again.

I have been too much of a coward to go back Under-the-hill, even though it is drawing me like an iron nail to a huge magnet. I am too afraid to see him mocking me for running away from him. He knows my cowardice as well, but to see that confirmed in his eyes would destroy me.

So I am a bundle of longing and fear, unable to move forward, yet unable to think about anything else.

I’m surprised when Thomas says, “Samuel!” I realize that somehow our dinners have arrived and I am halfway through eating mine. My mind is clearly betraying me, refusing to even participate in reality while it contemplates only Ben. “I said,” Thomas goes on, “let’s go Under-the-hill tonight. It’s been a while!”

I try not to look terrified. I try to look casual. Thomas points at my expression and laughs. “What is this! Are you afraid of a little poker?”

Well, sort of. “Last time I went down there I lost terribly,” I confess. I can admit that much at least.

“Ah! We can fix that together! I’ll be your good luck charm!”

I pull a smile up onto my face. I know that I am behaving most peculiar. Henry looks at me curiously, but doesn’t say anything.