River Queen (22 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

BOOK: River Queen
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“Oh, Julienne, please do not tell me that you were crying because of him,” she said disdainfully. “You weren’t going to marry that silly little man anyway.”

“I don’t know, the thought has crossed my mind a few times in the last weeks. Don’t look at me that way, Aunt Leah, I’m baring my ugly dark soul. There were times that I thought that if I married him it might at least mean the end of our money troubles. And we would have a nice home. You know, he kept calling on me even after Papa died. Since his father was on the Board of Directors of the bank, he must have known that this was going to happen, that we were really poor, but he did call and he seemed to be just as ardent as ever. I know he hasn’t called down here, but as I told you, somehow I excused all of that, thinking that we would be back to our lives soon, and everything would be like it used to be.”

Leah’s mouth tightened. “My dear Julienne, if you think that Archie Leggett would have provided a nice home for your mother, for Carley, for Darcy, and particularly for me, you really have been doing a magnificent job of blinding yourself, and also of making yourself utterly deaf. He would have a nice home, and you as his wife would share it, but there is not a chance he would have lifted a finger to help any of us.

“And as for him calling on you and pressing his suit after your father died, I think I know why,” she said shrewdly. “I would imagine that Preston Gates was exerting all the pressure he could on the Board to turn the mortgage on Ashby Plantation over to the family, and I’ll bet Archie’s father was doing the same. Don’t you see? Instead of leaving everything to Darcy, Charles left everything to Roseann. So whoever controls her controls the plantation. If he had married you, he would definitely have had control over our family.

“That way, Archie would have gotten the plantation, the house, everything. For very little money, I might add. All he would have had to do was pay the creditors and that pittance owed on the plantation. Those sums were a fraction of their worth, and the Leggetts carry that much around in their pockets.”

Light dawned on Julienne’s face. She stared at Leah, her dark eyes now clear and even bright. “Do you mean to say,” she said in a somber voice, “that Archie-Bald was not helplessly, fervently, passionately in love with me? That’s it! I’m never falling in love with a man again!”

“You weren’t any more in love with him than my pinky finger,” Leah said. “And don’t joke about such things, Julienne. The Lord has a strange way of bringing our words back to us in odd ways. Now, if you’ve stopped mooning over Archie-Bald, would you please come help me and your mother with a couple of things?”

“I’ll be glad to,” Julienne said, rising and brushing her skirt. “As long as it’s not hanging curtains.”

TWO MORE DAYS WENT by, and Dallas spent each day going up and down the docks, hunting for freight. Both days he came back empty-handed and discouraged. But now Julienne took pains to encourage him. Carley stoutly assured him that she had prayed for a “really good haul that weighs a lot so we’ll make a bunch of money” and so it would certainly come to them any day now.

On the third day he left and didn’t come back in time for supper that evening. Julienne anxiously awaited him and couldn’t decide whether his lateness was good or bad. One minute she told herself it was good news, he must be working out some kind of complicated deal to make up a good cargo. The next minute she scolded herself because she was certain that he was at the Blue Moon Saloon, drunk and partying riotously with Lulie.

They were at supper, and they were talking and laughing. Even Roseann had cheered up considerably. Julienne and Leah had put an absolute stop to her doing any cleaning or manual work, for she was still of fragile constitution and required rest each day. Julienne, recovered from her shock at her friends’ letters, had decided to talk about it to the family. She had made a mock-somber announcement that Mr. Archibald Legget, Esquire, had begged to be excused from his proposal. “It was too precipitate, he feared, for his mother and father had been long asking him to wait for a year or two before considering marriage,” she said, her mouth twitching.

Carley’s brow wrinkled. “What’s precipate?”

“It means too soon. His mummy and da-da said so,” Julienne answered tartly.

They started laughing, and Dallas came in. They all, except Darcy, called out greetings to him and told him to sit down.

“You’ve got a big silly grin on your face,” Julienne said with amusement. “It must be good news.”

“It’s double-good news. I’ve got a contract for a trip, and we’re loaded both ways. We’ll be loading the
Queen
tomorrow and taking our cargo to New Orleans!”

Everyone began to talk at once, asking questions, Darcy talking about New Orleans, Julienne wondering what to wear. Finally Leah said sensibly, “Mr. Bronte, it’s late and you must be hungry. Would you like some supper?”

“I’m close to starving,” he said good-naturedly. “Thank you, Mrs. Norris, I would appreciate something to eat.”

She rose and went into the galley. Carley said, “It’s oxtail soup! And it’s so-so-so good! Except I never could find the ox’s tail in it.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Dallas said. “But I like oxtail soup too. Do you, Miss Ashby?”

To Julienne’s guilty mind he seemed to be eyeing her with particular meaning, but then she realized he couldn’t possibly have known about her conversation with Aunt Leah and her mother. “As a matter of fact, I thought I would despise it, but it’s really very good. Of course, Libby could cook Mississippi mud and it would taste wonderful.”

Libby came out with a steaming bowl, and Leah cut him two thick slices of bread and buttered them for him. Giving him a chance to eat, the others kept talking for awhile, about New Orleans, and what they might buy if they made any money. Dallas watched them and listened as he ate, and he looked happy.

Finally he finished, pushed back his bowl, and leaned back in his chair. “That was fine, Miss Libby. And I do mean fine. Thank you very much. If there’s any left over, I know the crew would love some of it, even if it’s just a little cupful.”

“That’s what they had for supper too,” Libby answered as she cleared plates. She shot a meaningful look at Julienne, who dropped her eyes. “Oxtail, it don’t cost much, but it sure makes a thick hearty stew. Lots of people like it, even white quality folks, you know.”

Dallas looked puzzled at this declaration, but Julienne quickly said, “All right, we’ve been polite to let you eat. Now, what are we hauling? To and from?”

“And how heavy is it?” Carley demanded.

“Oh, it’s heavy, all right,” Dallas said. “A big, fat haul.”

His answer puzzled them, and, glancing at Roseann, he went on hurriedly. “It’s livestock downriver. Farm equipment back.”

Darcy asked warily, “Livestock? What kind of livestock?”

“Er—cows. Some cows. And pigs.”

A silence fell across the room, and a look of astonishment came to every face.

“Pigs?” Julienne repeated blankly. “Pigs?”

“Yes, pigs,” Dallas answered. “You know, four-legged things with long snouts that go around saying
Oink! Oink!
Pigs. You must have seen a pig or two in your time.”

Carley clapped her hands. “Oh, boy, pigs! Maybe there’ll be some babies, and I can keep one for a pet!”

“No!” Leah, Roseann, Darcy, and Julienne said in unison.

Darcy said with disgust, “Pigs. I can’t believe it. Can’t you do better than that, Bronte?”

“No, I can’t, because it’s a real good job, Ashby,” Dallas said defensively. “I just happened to see an old friend of mine right before he went into the harbormaster’s office, and I figured he was looking for a steamer. I grabbed him real quick, talked to him, told him about the
River Queen
, and about our—my—situation. He not only asked me to take this livestock haul, but he spent half the afternoon sending telegraphs back and forth to shippers in New Orleans, and he found us this good load of farm machinery for the trip back. It took him a long time, that’s why I was so late coming back, and he sure didn’t have to go to the trouble. But I guess that’s what good friends do.”

Leah glanced at Julienne, who gave her a rueful half-smile. Then Julienne said, “He’s right, Darcy. Pigs have to be transported too. We’re not the only steamer on the Mississippi River that has hauled them. We owe Mr. Bronte, and his friend, our gratitude.”

“And to God,” Carley put in. “’Cause pigs are fat, so they’ll be really heavy, and that’s what I asked for, a heavy load so we’d make lots of money.”

“Yeah, what about that, Bronte? What about the money?” Darcy asked with sudden interest.

Dallas glanced at Julienne, and she said quietly, “Darcy, I’ll have to go over the details with Dallas, and make calculations on our expenses, and exactly how much we’ll be able to clear. What we get paid isn’t all our money, you know.”

“That again,” Darcy said, his fine mouth twisting. “When you Big Bosses figure out my allowance, you let me know, would you? I’ve got to go, I’ve got an appointment. Good night, Mother, Aunt Leah.” Savagely shoving back his chair, he left. Carley looked crestfallen, and seeing it, Julienne could have strangled her brother. But then she realized that when her father had been alive, she herself had been little better. She wasn’t sulky and rude like Darcy, but she manipulated her father constantly to give her things and money that he didn’t have. And though she treated Carley good-naturedly, she largely ignored her. She sighed deeply.

Eyeing her, Dallas said, “I stand by what I say, that it’s a good haul, but I am sorry about the pigs. I know it’s not going to be easy for ladies to be on a pig boat.”

They all immediately protested. Finally Roseann said softly, “Mr. Bronte, we are so grateful, to you, to your friend, and as Carley said, to the Lord. This has been an answer to prayer. Don’t even think of any regrets, because this freight is a blessing from God.”

“Even pigs, ma’am?” Dallas asked with curiosity.

“Even pigs,” she repeated. “We will thank the Lord for them.”

“Especially,” Carley said piously, “big fat pigs.”

DAWN BROUGHT A FUROR of activity, for the livestock had been driven by two Negro men all the way down Silver Street right to the dock. Everybody was staring at the sight, and since they left quite a mess behind, they made their feelings known. All up and down the docks the noise of hoots of derisions, disgusted shouts, catcalling, and eloquent profanity sounded. The berth where the
River Queen
was docked swarmed with pigs squealing and snorting. Eight cows stood staring and gravely chewing cud.

Ring and Jesse lowered one landing stage, while Dallas and Willem lowered the other. Julienne had always been fascinated at this, because she remembered the first time she and Dallas had come to see the
Queen
, and he had lowered the gangway by himself. But always, she had noticed on the docks, it took at least two, usually more men, to do it. Now, however, she was much distracted—as was much of Natchez-Under-the-Hill—with the pigs. They were a squirming, lively, vocal crowd.

Dallas’s friend, the owner, rode up on a fine horse behind the livestock. He was a short rotund man in his middle fifties, balding, with bushy side whiskers. His clothes were well-tailored and of good quality, but he dressed very plainly, in a black frock coat, waistcoat, and trousers. His tall hat was felt, not silk. Dallas went to meet him. “Good morning, Mr. Fender. The
River Queen
is all ready and rarin’ to go.”

Fender dismounted and watched as his drovers and the crew started herding the pigs onto the boat. “Dallas, it’s a big comedown for a pilot like you to be driving a pig boat. It’s not going to help your reputation one bit.”

Dryly Dallas said, “Mr. Fender, those pigs have a better reputation than I do right now. Thanks again for helping me out. I won’t forget it, and somehow one day I’ll pay you back.”

“Just business, Dallas,” he said, shaking his head. “Besides, if the new
River Queen
is as fast as the old one was, you’ll be making a quick, clean trip, and that’ll be good for both of our reputations.”

“This is our shakedown trip,” Dallas said. “So we’ll see if she’s the fast
Queen
she used to be. I’ll tell you, she may not look like much on the outside but her firebox and engine are top of the line. I think she’s gonna steam as good and fast as a clipper.”

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