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Authors: Eugenia Price

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Military

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BOOK: Beauty From Ashes
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to share a seat with a huge woman whose 479 body was unpleasantly odorous.

John. If only there had been a way for John to make the journey with them, even their numbers would have been even. She and John could have shared a seat, John Couper could have sat with one of his sisters, with the other two girls together.

At the very moment when counting her blessings seemed to bring a sense of John’s presence, her heart ached because for every day of the rest of her life, with John gone, their family would be uneven.

Anne’s very life would be uneven.

Then, over the clanging bell in the night, which meant more screeching of metal wheels on metal rails and still another stop, she could have sworn she heard John’s voice again as she’d heard it when she stood beside his grave for the last time: “Oh, Anne, you’re going to love the white-light house!”

Over and over and over she heard it through the next jerking, scraping stop; then as the train pitched forward again into the night, she thanked God that at the end of this trip, she would not have to hunt for a home. They had one. Anne Fraser once more would sleep at night and plan meals and place her

own things around in a house that would be hers. She would again be able to write in her diary at her own desk in her own room.

And maybe equally important, she already had at least one friend in Marietta. This very train, within half an hour, could—if there weren’t too many more stops to take on wood, water, one or two passengers, a crate of chickens—pull into the Marietta depot. And the depot was just a few steps from the Howard House, Louisa Fletcher’s home and their home, too, until the longed-for day when they could move into their own house to stay.

“Want to put your head on my shoulder, Mama, and grab a few winks?” John Couper asked. “We should be there soon now.”

“Yes, Son. Yes, I think I’d like very much to do that.”

Her head resting on John Couper’s wide, slender shoulder, the reassuring pressure of his hand as he did his best to hold her steady against the lurches of the train, sent Anne’s thoughts to the painful subject she’d tried throughout the whole trip to avoid. Not one bit reconciled in her own mind to what John Couper vowed they had to do,

she saw the puzzled, even frightened 481 faces of her people, who had served them all for much of their lifetimes, come before her. Where were they now? How were Tiber, George, and Peter, three of the men John loathed buying all those years ago at the Savannah slave market? Big Boy, Rollie, Mina and her daughter, along with June and Eve, were going to Marietta with them, but the others had been rented out and not even together, not even to the same plantation. Tiber and George were rented at a dollar and a half per day to the owners of the plantations responsible for the upkeep of Frederica Road back on St. Simons. Since Horace Gould headed the group, at least she knew Tiber and George were not being mistreated. But someone in Savannah had rented Peter, and a man in Augusta was working a dozen or more of the Frasers’ longtime field hands, and— She stopped thinking about it. Trusting John Couper had never been anything but natural to her. That must not change now. The boy was doing everything he knew how to do in order to better her life. He was even going to send her ten to twenty dollars a month from his sixty-dollar salary from McCleskey and Norton toward the monthly

house payment of thirty dollars they would have to make. No mother could ask for more. Few received as much.

“All our people are your property, Mama,” he had reasoned. “Everyone makes real estate transactions by making use of personal property.”

True. Anne certainly knew that, but she could almost hear John’s comments—comments that would sound much like those of Fanny Kemble Butler or her new Marietta friend, Louisa Fletcher. Miss Eliza Mackay had confirmed what Anne already knew: because Louisa Fletcher came from Massachusetts and held strong opinions about almost everything and was a Unitarian—as was Fanny Butler’s friend the late Dr. Ellery Channing —Louisa did not approve of owning people.

“What do I really think about the idea?” Anne asked herself again. Long ago she’d lost count of how many times she’d asked that question, and right now, longing for her familiar, comfortable routine with Eve, her answer was no clearer. Maybe no clearer than it had ever been.

The train was slowing, its wheels screeching again on the narrow tracks. John Couper took his

arm away and leaned toward her. “Mama? 483 I think we’re there! This must be the Marietta depot. Look out the window.”

She looked. Surely the expression on her face had to show a mixture of relief, gladness, but some anxiety. “Oh,” she said. “Yes! Yes, Son, this is the Marietta depot. Only it’s so dark in the Square beyond it, I can’t really see much, can you?”

“Enough to know we’ve made it this far, at least,” he said with a soft, comforting laugh. “I just hope Mr. Dix Fletcher’s still up and behind his Howard House lobby counter. I, for one, am already thinking about a nice, clean bed!”

Not only Dix Fletcher was behind his counter when just after midnight, the travel-worn guests reached the Howard House. His wife, Louisa, was also there, wearing a pretty plaid silk dress and a smile of welcome. Anne felt especially warmed when her new friend met her halfway across the lobby, arms outstretched as though they’d been friends for years.

Louisa lost no time with introductions. She presented her husband to John Couper, Fanny,

and Selina promptly and reintroduced Anne and Pete. When Eve, June, Big Boy, Rollie, Mina, and Flonnie entered the lobby laden with valises and boxes, Louisa began at once to direct them upstairs with full instructions about finding the three rooms reserved for the Frasers. Anne longed for a few minutes alone with Eve before she had to leave for the quarters reserved for Negro servants and so was more than grateful for Louisa’s excellent, adept management of the arrival.

“I’m so glad to be with you at last, Eve,” Anne said when Louisa had said a quick but warm goodnight. “You know where everything is packed and I don’t.”

“Ain’t no reason you need to know when Eve knows,” the servant said, doing her level best to be cheerful, even though Anne realized how exhausted she must be. The ladies’ cars were palaces compared with where Eve and the other people rode. “You sit yo’se’f down an’ rest, Miss Anne. Eve have what you need tonight unpacked and laid out in no time at all. Miz Fletcher, she done got bof hot an’ cold water right here waitin’ fo’ yo’ bath.”

“It’s going to be the quickest sponge 485 bath in history. Pete’s going to be here any minute. Between us, we’ll get ourselves ready for bed. If you really want to please me, you’ll just find a nightgown and my robe and slippers and go straight to—wherever you and June will sleep tonight.”

“Dey be a cabin out back of the hotel for us niggers.” In what seemed like seconds, Eve whipped out Anne’s nightclothes and laid them as neatly on the hotel bed as though they were already in their own house together again. “How long you speck it will be till we kin git in our own place, Miss Anne?”

Holding up her arms for Eve to unfasten the hooks at the back of her travel shirt, Anne sighed. “Heaven only knows. Two weeks, maybe even a month. I meant to ask Mrs. Fletcher, but I was scared to find out, tired as I am tonight.”

“What you skeered ob?”

“I thought you were going to speak better English once we got here.”

Eve’s smile flashed. “Dat begin tomorrow, Miss Anne. You see.”

“All right, but don’t forget. And”—she held

out her hand, which Eve took timidly—“thank you.”

“Pshaw, you thank me for one lil ole nightgown, Miss Anne?”

“No. I thank you for being—Eve and for being here with me. I hear Pete in the hall. That girl can’t be quiet even when she’s exhausted and it’s going on one o’clock in the morning!”

“That’s our Pete, Miss Anne. An’ Pete, she be fine jus’ like she is.” At the door, ready to leave, Eve said, “You an’ me, we’s gonna be jus’ fine too. You see Eve be right.” Giving Anne one more smile as she opened the door to Pete, Eve added, “You see how good Eve talk by in de mornin’, too. Good night, Miss Anne.”

“Good night, Eve. Try to have a good night. Pete! For goodness’ sake, come on in. If I don’t get in that bed soon, I may be too old to make it all the way across the room! I hope you thanked Louisa Fletcher for hurrying us off to bed so fast. Did you?”

“I did,” Pete said, not pouring but literally dumping hot, then cold, water into two washbowls. “And Mama, guess what?”

“Right now, I couldn’t guess 487 anything.”

“Mrs. Fletcher told me to tell you she’ll have a surprise for us tomorrow morning. She seemed really happy about it, too.”

Chapter 37

Up, bathed, and dressed before six the next morning, Louisa Fletcher enjoyed the unusual spectacle of her normally solemn husband who today was actually smiling, as pleased as was she at Louisa’s “surprise,” which was saved until after the Frasers were revived by a good night’s sleep.

“You’ll be able to move into your house sooner than anyone expected,” she said as she and Dix sat with them at their Howard House breakfast table. “Lawyer Bentley came by right after noon yesterday with the news that since one of the sons of the Bostwick relatives occupying it off and on during the past year is entering school in the North, the house could be cleaned, repaired, and all ready for occupancy two or at most three weeks ahead of the date for which anyone dared hope. My dear Anne, you will be moved into your own house

within three weeks, I’m sure. Just in time to see all your lovely dogwood blossoms burst into bloom! When do you have to return to Savannah, John Couper?”

“My employers are generous men. They’ve given me a full month away from work.” He turned to his mother, his handsome young face aglow. “Mama, do you realize what this means? Not only will you get to watch the dogwoods come out, you’ll see me in full action going about the business of getting my beautiful mother settled and happy in her very own home. Now, aren’t you glad I urged Uncle James Hamilton to crate and send our furniture a little early? I may even still be here when the big old heavy desk Grandfather Fraser gave you arrives. We can decide together where to put it. Mrs. Fletcher, this is great, good news! Thank you so much.”

“Yes, Louisa, oh, yes!” Anne gasped, her face radiant.

“Don’t thank me. Be grateful to the messenger. I honestly believe Mr. Bentley had quite a lot to do with helping the temporary tenants make up their minds to go early. He’s a splendid gentleman. John Couper, you can

certainly feel safe leaving your mother and 489 all her affairs in Lawyer Bentley’s capable hands. The house is partly furnished, though. You’re not shipping too many heirloom pieces up from the coast, are you, Anne?”

“Our beds, Louisa,” Anne said. “We all wanted our own beds. John’s old kneehole desk, books, and, of course, the handsome old Fraser piece from my father-in-law’s London house.” No one could have missed the adoring look Anne then gave her son. Louisa certainly didn’t miss it. “Oh, John Couper, you could be here with us in our new home for a whole week!”

Happier than she’d felt in years, Louisa looked at Anne’s three daughters, looked slowly from one to the other. Pete, her flaming red hair still a bit tousled from the long sleep, seemed about to burst the bonds of ladylike behavior. Quite evidently, Anne thought so too, for she said quickly, “Pete, no! Don’t jump up to hug anyone. We’re still in a public place. Just sit there and be a lady. Like your younger sisters.”

Louisa gave the youngest, Selina, a warm

smile. The child was wearing a grin and looked awestruck. And Fanny, the quiet, middle daughter—the least attractive physically of the three sisters but truly good, Louisa was sure— had tears of pure joy on her face as she blew a silent kiss in the direction of her mother. Louisa herself could only laugh. And in her laughter was so much delight that even her husband, Dix, was studying her face as though he’d never seen anyone quite like her before.

Sweet, silent Dix, Louisa thought. The man means so well. If I didn’t know him as I do, I’d swear he’s working at containing his own pleasure this minute at the sight of such a happy family as the Frasers. Of course, he said nothing beyond, “I trust you will all be contented in your new home.” Then, as he so often did, Dix fell silent for a time, examining his hands in his gentle, awkward way. “I work with my hands, Mrs. Fraser, as I’m sure you know. That is, I did at one time. I’m a cabinetmaker by trade. Louisa isn’t exactly the kind of lady one might expect to marry a craftsman, but I’d like to make an offer. If there’s anything —anything at all I might build for you once

you’re moved into your new home, you have 491 only to let me know.”

With all her heart, Louisa wanted to hug her husband. She didn’t, of course, but along with Anne and John Couper, she praised his offer and assured them all that “whatever Mr. Fletcher may build for you will be letter-perfect. I urge you to accept his offer. He’s an expert artisan and had his cabinet and lumber business in Savannah not burned to the ground some years ago, he’d still be making his extraordinary pieces.”

For the next two weeks Anne spent her time showing Selina, Fanny, and John Couper the charming, prospering, newly chartered city of Marietta, sorry they had all missed the elaborate celebration held earlier this year, 1852, on the day the village of Marietta became the city of Marietta. In the Fletcher carriage, driven by June because Louisa’s driver, Elmer, was needed at the hotel stables, they drove about the countryside, spread picnics, inspected the new buildings and grounds of the Georgia Military Institute, and at Pete’s insistence, drove out to Oakton, where

John Couper’s Savannah friends the Wilders lived when they were not in Savannah. Pete had stayed at Oakton before her mother came to Marietta.

“Mrs. Wilder’s so in love with Marietta, I’m sure she’ll move here permanently, even though John will have to make the train trip to Savannah often,” John Couper said. “The lady adores this place, Mama, and once you get to know her, you’ll understand why.”

“You sound as though you still have to convince me to move to Marietta, Son,” Anne laughed. “I’m here and under all the circumstances of my life right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

BOOK: Beauty From Ashes
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