Bouquet for Iris (9 page)

“That warrant is only a piece of paper.” Adam could not keep the mockery out of his voice. “If the people who want your land set fire to this house, what would you have?”

“That is why I invited Lance into our conversation. It seems to me that his arrival could be considered God’s intervention. He can keep the deed safe for me.”

Adam mulled over the idea. Letting a third party hold the warranty was a good idea. He knew that Lance kept warranties of properties he surveyed, but since he had never surveyed Mr. Spencer’s land, no one would suspect where the official deed was being held. He nodded his agreement. “But I still think you’d be better advised to leave while you still have a choice.”

“I will raise my granddaughters in this home I built until the government of the United States forces me out.”

Adam shrugged. Why should he care what happened? He should never have come in the first place. Obviously no one else had the vision to see the future that was bearing down on them.

As she climbed the stairwell behind the house slave, Iris soaked up the atmosphere of the Spencer home. It did not feel much like an Indian home—at least not the Indian homes she had visited at the side of her parents. No stretched skins or animal horns hung on the walls. She saw framed oil paintings rather than charcoal drawings. The draperies were constructed of rich burgundy velvet, and she noticed a pair of vases made of etched glass. How beautiful they would be when filled with fresh spring flowers.

Josephine opened a door at the top of the landing, and both of them entered the children’s parlor. It was a handsomely apportioned room, light and airy, and filled with a profusion of toys for young children. Iris clapped her hands as she looked around. It was a child’s dream come true. She could imagine playing in this room as a little girl. What fun she and her friends would have had. She noticed a checkerboard and its black and red pieces, a box of marbles, several spinning tops, and a whole shelf of dolls. Some of the dolls were handmade cornstalk dolls like the ones she’d had as a little girl, but there were also several fancy dolls with porcelain faces and intricate dresses.

“Where are the children?” Iris asked once she could pull her gaze from the wall of toys.

Josephine winked at her. “They love to hide from me. I spend a large part of my day trying to discover all their hidey-holes.”

A faint giggle came to her ears. Iris realized this must be a game for the girls and Josephine.

“Now where could they be this time?” Josephine put a finger on her chin and looked around. “I wonder if they’re on the porch.” She swept across the room and pulled the doors open, sticking her head outside and looking from left to right.

“Are they out there?” Iris joined the game.

“No luck today.” Josephine came back inside. “You know, one day I found them in the secret shelf Mr. Spencer had built underneath the window seats. I wonder if that’s where they’re hiding today.”

She advanced on the window seats. Suddenly the giggles stopped. “Yes indeed.” She opened the window seats with a flourish.

Two dark heads popped up. Two mouths shrieked. Josephine threw her hands up in the air, and Iris laughed as hard as she had since her arrival in this part of Tennessee. It took several moments for all of them to calm down enough to talk.

“Come out, girls, and meet your new nanny.”

A slight hesitation preceded the girls climbing out of the window seats and coming to where Iris still stood in the center of the room. She could see how much they depended on each other by the way their hands clung together. The younger child hung back slightly and plopped a thumb in her mouth. They both looked up at Iris, their big brown eyes filled with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity.

The nervousness Iris had felt upon her arrival melted away. These little girls were adorable. She could hardly wait to hold them in her arms. She knelt in front of them and smiled. “You cannot believe how badly I’ve wanted to see the two of you.” She looked at the older sister. “You must be June.”

A hesitant nod answered her.

Iris turned to the younger girl. “Now don’t tell me….” She put a finger on her chin and looked upward as though trying to think. “Your name is Amber?”

A headshake from both girls.

Iris tapped her chin. “Elsie? Laura? Ada?” At each guess, the girls shook their heads. “Maybe you’d better tell me then, or I might spend all day guessing.”

As Iris had hoped, the younger child removed her thumb to answer. “Anna Hi’wa’se.” She had a little trouble with the vowels in her Cherokee name.

“What a pretty name,” Iris encouraged, eliciting a smile.

The older girl took a step forward. “I’m June Adsila.”

Iris nodded. “That’s a pretty name, too.”

“Adsila
is Cherokee for ‘blossom.’” The older child offered the information as though seeking Iris’s approval.
“Hiawassee
means ‘meadow.’”

“Well, isn’t that grand?” Iris laughed and lowered her voice as though she had a secret to tell them. “My name is Iris. Do you know what an iris is?” She waited while they glanced at each other. They shook their heads in unison. “An iris is a type of flower that has a pretty purple blossom and can be seen in the meadow in the spring.”

“Our ma is in heaven.” Anna made the statement before returning her thumb to her mouth.

Iris prayed for the right answer to give the girls. They were both watching her, their brown eyes inscrutable. “That’s right. And I know she is proud she has two such beautiful young ladies here to keep their grandpa company.”

“That’s what I tell them all the time.” Josephine reentered the conversation, warm approval evident in her voice.

Iris stood and brushed her skirts, although the floor was too spotless to have soiled it. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the precious girls who were watching her. She was so grateful to be here and sent a quick prayer of thanksgiving heavenward.

“Why don’t you come with me, girls? We’ll let Miss Iris unpack, and then she can join us.” She glanced quizzically at Iris. “Can you be ready in an hour? I will need to get started on the day’s chores by then.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Iris smiled down at June and Anna. “Would the two of you like to come with me? I could use some help unpacking.”

Two nods answered her. The girls turned pleading looks on Josephine, who held up her hands and laughed. “An extra hour to get more work done? That would be a great help, Miss Iris, if you’re sure.”

“Of course I’m sure. Maybe the girls can also give me a tour of the house. I’m sure they know every nook and cranny of their beautiful home.”

“What a good idea. Then you can all come down to the kitchen. I’ll make sure Cook has a snack all ready for you.” Josephine disappeared down the hall with a wave of her hand.

Iris looked down. “Oh, my. I forgot to ask Miss Josephine where my room is. Do you think the two of you can help me find it?”

They glanced at each other before nodding. She held out her hands. June grabbed her left while Anna reached for the right one. Then they tugged her around and out the doorway. She had to laugh at their eagerness. This was going to be an easier job than she had ever imagined.

Iris sighed as she tried to tame her hair. It was raining outside, bad news for two reasons. The first and least important was her unruly hair. The second was the disappointment her girls would face when they found that their planned picnic would have to be postponed. She pulled her hair back and wrestled a ribbon around it.

In the week since her arrival, she had grown to love the sweet Spencer girls. And they had responded to her with all the love in their dear little hearts. A clap of thunder brought another sigh. It looked like a picnic was out of the question. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look overly professional, but she had learned during the past week that she would most likely not see anyone but her charges and the slaves.

She still found it hard to believe that Mr. Spencer had a house full of slaves. How could a man own slaves when his own people were fighting a battle for the right to control their futures? She understood his desire to live like his white counterparts, but not all wealthy men had slaves to work in their fields and keep their homes clean. Her pa was a good example. When it came time to plant or harvest his crops, he employed workers and paid them a fair wage. Their house was not so large that she, Ma, and Hannah could not keep up with the housework. But if it got to be too much work, she knew her parents would hire a housekeeper, not purchase a human being to do the work.

She had discovered the truth at the end of her first day. After meeting June Adsila and Anna Hiawassee, who were the sweetest little girls she could have imagined, Iris had asked Josephine how the staff managed their days off. She had neglected to ask her employer if she would be allowed to attend Sunday services in town and still take an afternoon off to visit the Sherers. Josephine had shrugged her shoulders and explained that she did not take days off except for Christmas as she was a slave. Iris had been incredulous, but Josephine had assured her that she was happy to find herself in a good home with a kind master.

Iris wanted to ask Mr. Spencer why he owned slaves, but she had not seen the man since the day of her arrival. He had sent for his granddaughters once or twice, but she was not included in the invitations. So she had spent the time describing her new home and situation to her family in a letter. Perhaps the good Lord would provide an opportunity later. She hoped He would also provide her with the words to present her case to the man.

A knock on the door was her signal that the girls were awake and ready to be dressed. Her room was in the center of a connected suite, with June’s bed in one room while her little sister’s was located in the other. It was yet another indication of the wealth enjoyed by the Spencer family. A room for each of the children was a luxury where she came from. Of course, little Anna could often be discovered in June’s bed by morning. An arrangement that neither girl seemed to mind.

Iris opened her door and was immediately bombarded as June and Anna barreled into her for early morning hugs. “Good morning. Who is ready for breakfast?”

“When can we go on our pickanick?” June asked.

“Weeell,” Iris drew the word out as she kissed first one child and then the other, “it seems that God has other plans in mind for us today.”

“I told you so.” Little Anna might be younger, but she was the more talkative and logical of the pair.

June’s eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t worry, little one. We will go on the next pretty day.” She walked into June’s room and pulled a shift from her bureau, laying it across the bed. The next hour was filled with questions and exclamations as she got the girls dressed and seated in their parlor where they would break their fasts together.

The mouthwatering smells of crisp bacon and warm bread greeted them. Iris helped the girls fill their plates before choosing a warm biscuit and coddled eggs for herself. “Whose turn is it to bless our food this morning?”

“It’s June’s turn,” precocious Anna answered as usual. She glanced at her sister. “But I don’t think she wants to talk to God today.”

“Is that true, June?”

The older sister stared at her plate but nodded her agreement.

Anna was unperturbed by her sister’s silence. “Do you want me to say the blessing?”

Iris considered the two girls, so much alike in looks, so different in personalities. June was a sweet-hearted little girl, but she obviously still grieved for her parents. Anna, on the other hand, had been much too young to remember her ma and pa, so she didn’t feel the lack. “I think maybe we should talk to June about why she is so reluctant.”

June shrugged.

Anna opened her mouth to answer for her sister, but Iris stopped her with a raised finger. “Let’s let June tell us what is wrong.”

They waited in silence as the food cooled on their plates. Finally June looked up. “Does God love us?”

Iris felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Of course He loves us. Whatever would make you think otherwise?”

“Why does He make people go to heaven and leave us?”

Iris pushed her chair back and went to kneel next to June, praying for the right words to share God’s love with them. “I know you miss your ma and pa so much. I miss mine, too.”

June’s eyes turned into brown pools of tears. “Did Jesus take them to heaven, too?”

“No, but they live far, far away from here.” Iris could feel the burn of tears in her own eyes. She needed to change the tone in the nursery, or it was going to be a miserable day for all three of them. “Do you know the story about the missing sheep?”

June and Anna both shook their heads.

“Once upon a time, a boy had the job of watching over a whole flock of sheep. There were white ones and black ones and even a few spotted sheep.”

“Were there any lambs?” Anna interrupted.

“Yes, Anna. Lots of lambs. Well, one day when the shepherd was counting all of his sheep, he realized that one of the baby sheep was missing. He looked in the valleys and on top of the hills, but he couldn’t find the little baby sheep.”