Flowers of the Bayou (2 page)

“I don’t like Edward,” Margaret retorted. “He is awful nice and a real good friend but I have someone else in mind.”

Jasper sighed; he knew just who else she had in mind. It wasn’t hard to figure out, even if you were daft. The girl sure was forward and perhaps if Margaret wasn’t Margaret, he’d allow himself to try and see more in the girl.

She was pretty and sweet and he did care about her, but she was Margaret, Jordan’s irritating cousin! He couldn’t like her. “You might change your mind about Edward when you get a little older like me." Jasper informed her.

"Older!” Now that was rich. “You are only three years older than me, Jasper.”

“The difference in maturity is astounding, isn’t it?” He teased. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sighing, Margaret stopped in her tracks and asked sincerely, "Why do you like her?"

"What a silly question. Everyone likes Bernadette but you. Besides, she’s the prettiest girl I ever saw?" Jasper could have kicked himself for the last part, but the words just flew out. Bernadette was the prettiest girl he knew. Well, maybe one of the prettiest. “Why do you want to know anyway?”

"I just do." Margaret pulled her hand from his to walk ahead of him. His last statement stung.

"Why?" He knew why but was hoping to silence her.

"You know why." Turning around she faced him dead on. “I may not be the prettiest girl, but I’m smart you know.”

“Yes I know.” Jasper had been bested by her in numbers on more than one occasion. “And I did not say you weren’t pretty even with that face full of freckles.”

Margaret thought about this and gave a giggle. “I swear, you and Jordan like all the wrong type of ladies. I’m going to remedy that, you know.”

“Really, how do you plan to do this?” Jasper laughed nearly doubling over at her new-found confidence.

Margaret stopped to peer up into glistening hazel eyes then. He'd have to find out sooner or later. “Because one day I'm going to marry you. As for Jordan, I guess we’ll have to protect him from the wrong sort together." She awaited his response on abated breath, and Jasper took a moment to let what she’d said sink in before he doubled over in laughter.

After that day, Margaret had avoided Jasper for a month and would turn beet red if he ever glanced her way. It took another month for her to start talking to him again, after he pestered her about her silence a good week. Finally, he told her he missed her pestering and apologized.

That day, as she walked back home from her lessons, he’d accompanied her. It was nice and they talked about any and everything. 

They found that they had a lot in common and Jasper made it a habit to walk her home from then on, every day. She hoped it was not because he felt sorry for her. Deep within herself, she somehow felt that was not the case.

When her mother found out about the walks, Jordan was forced to join them but Margaret didn’t care. She found that she could not wait to get to her lessons every morning. 

Most of the time, Jordan would run off to go do Lord only knew what with Sue Ellen and meet up with them just in time for her mama to see them coming around the bend to the grand house.

The days that Jordan disappeared were the days Margaret liked the most, but soon even that ended.

Bernadette found out, of course, and the walks were now with four instead of the regular three. When Jordan snuck off, Bernadette remained and she commanded all attention. Jasper gave it willingly and Margaret all but faded into the scenery.

New Orleans, 1859

“You’ve stepped on my foot again, Margaret.” Jordan was now holding his cousin at an awkward distance.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be; it’s my birthday and you're stealing me away from my wife so you can step all over my toes and daydream about Jasper.” Jordan stopped mid-waltz. “May I cut in?” Winking at Margaret, he waltzed away with none other than Bernadette in his arm’s leaving his cousin in front of Jasper.

Jasper had to blink twice at the woman before him. The familiar sparkling green eyes were the only remnants of the gangly, freckle-faced girl he’d last seen three years ago, those and the signature pigtail. “Margaret?”

“Jasper,” she greeted him. “What happened to all of the freckles?”

At this she laughed. “I still have a few.”

“The years have certainly been kind.” He was having a hard time adjusting to this new Margaret. Jordan's cousin had always been lovely, but this woman before him was stunning. When did this happen? Vaguely he could hear the music of the waltz come to an end and he smiled. “May I have a place on your dance card?”

“I’d be most pleased if you did,” Margaret croaked while searching for the damned thing. Hadn’t she just had it?

“Lost something again?”  Margaret’s head snapped up to stare at Bernadette. “No, I haven’t,” she lied. “How are you Bernadette?”

“I’m especially well now that my beau’s back. Who did you come with, Margaret? Where is your beau hiding?”

“I have no beau as you are well aware.” Margaret seethed inwardly.

"I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, why with your having more scratched knees and scars than the boys do."

"I doubt that, Bernadette," Jasper cut in for the first time. “You never mentioned in your letters how beautiful Margaret has become." He watched as Margaret's face lit up. "You've grown, Margaret."

 Margaret could scarcely hear him, lost in his eyes and his compliment. He thought she was beautiful.

“Come on, darling. My father’s looking for you?” Bernadette gave Margaret a look that let her know she had better stay clear of Jasper. “If you’ll please excuse us.”

"Of course." Stepping back Margaret maneuvered herself away from the ballroom floor to the punch table where Lester Manning, along with his best friend Morgan Pierce, tried unsuccessfully to get a dance from her.

She stayed perched at that spot, glass of punch in hand, for what seemed like an eternity, and turned a dozen boys away as she watched her mother play the pleasant hostess. Finally, Patty Jensen tapped her shoulder. "Why are you so glum, sugar plum?”

"I'm tired I suppose."

"No you are not. No one can be tired at a party." Patty turned up her pert, sculptured nose and raised her picturesque, rose-colored lips in a smile.

"You know you make me sick sometimes," Margaret joked.

"Ugh! What did I do now?" Patty giggled as she swayed to the orchestra and placed another name on the long list of her dance card.

Patty was gorgeous, no, flawless, and she knew it. But the difference between Patty and women like Jordan’s wife, Regina, and Bernadette was that she was definitely not vain.

The strawberry blonde looked as if she might belong in a book of fairytales. Everything about her was perfect and presented in such a way that she had the appearance of a beautiful wood spirit.

"You weren't here when I needed you.”

"Well I'm here now, honey." Patty turned her pretty head with grace toward Margaret.

"Jasper is home; did you know?”

“I just saw him walk away, which is why I’m wondering why you're standing here with a frown plastered all over your sweet face.”

“I can never be Bernadette.”

“Honey, why would you want to? The woman is, for a lack of a better word, tacky.”

Margaret chuckled at this. “I’ve been in love with him my whole life, Patty. I haven’t seen him in years and now I’m going to lose him.”

“Only if you want to, which we both know you don’t. Margaret, I’m going to help you make Jasper see you for who you are and, honey, I better be an honored guest at the wedding.”

Her Southern belle drawl held a hint of mischief. And Margaret knew then that catching her man would be the most fun she'd ever had in her life

Part Two

Amelia

The Blooming Magnolia

The Magnolia

New Orleans, 1866

The thing about it was she just didn’t like Morgan in that way. Seeing him come down the dirt trail, Amelia immediately wished she’d taken the main road. She couldn’t turn back now. If she did, he would tell Lorraine and then she’d never hear the end of it.

As of late, whatever Morgan Allen wanted, Aunt Lorraine saw fit he got. Sadly, it seemed that now included her.

Morgan could be her daddy, but that didn’t matter. What did matter, at least to Lorraine, was that he was well received in the prominent colored community. That meant he could gain Lorraine much desired status, a thing Lorraine craved.

The creole woman was itching to just get her foot in the door of the elite world of the Couleur La Société Elite. If that meant selling Amelia, well so be it. Apparently some forms of slavery were never meant to fade.

Taking a breath, she stood off to the side so that his old hackney could stop before her. For a man of means, he sure didn’t look it. Forcing a smile, Amelia waved up at him. “How are you?”

“Reckon’ I better now I’s done seen ya.” Morgan dismounted with difficulty, ailed by a wound from the troubled days as he would call them, before he was able to purchase his own freedom. Amelia would never know how lucky she was not to have to go through slavery times. She was born free.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Morgan put his hand to the girl’s cheek. “You sho’ turning out to be a right fine woman. You fillin' out alright.” And she was; the golden-eyed girl was beautiful. Always had been, but now that she was getting older, it was no longer a thing Morgan was willing to ignore. He’d made his mind up, and Amelia was going to be a part of his life. “How old you now?”

“Fifteen.” Amelia replied blandly inching away from the intimidating form before her. He was always so close. He didn’t give her any room to think. “I’ll tell Aunt Lorraine I saw you. I got to be going now. Nice seeing you Mr. Allen.”

“Where ya goin? I can take ya. Can’t have a girl like you walking.”

Amelia sighed in irritation “I’m going to meet Daniel and the girls down by the river before I go over to the Bradford house. You know Mrs. Margaret McMahon hired me on to work there early days, just cleaning and doing a little cooking. Only one left in that house since the poor folks passed on is the older son, and the sister but she just a baby. I’m going to help out with her as well.” Amelia rattled on.

Morgan barely heard anything after Daniel. The boy was always sniffing around Amelia and it needed to stop. “You know dat boy want nothing more from ya done to see up ya skirt. You’d be smart ta stay away from him.”

Amelia felt her jaw drop. She simply could not comprehend what the man had just said. Daniel loved her. They were going to be married one day. If she had any say so, he was going to rescue her from Lorraine and Morgan. “That’s not true!” If she could have got away with slapping him she would have.

“What you say ta me?” Morgan flared. Lorraine wasn’t doing her part. Hadn’t he explained to the woman that if Amelia was not trained up right there would be no money?

He would not stand for back talk or being told what to do. His whole life he had to do as he was told but now things had changed. He was in charge, he made the rules. “Don’t you eva’ talk back to me, ya hear?”

Amelia stood there blinking shocked. Where did this come from? She’d always been leery of Morgan but now, as he stood in front of her scowling and yelling, she’d make sure to always avoid him.

“Get up in the cart. I told you I’d take you to da Bradford house.” Morgan tried to calm himself after all they were not married yet. He’d have to play his cards right for now. “Girl, don’ be upset, I just care 'bout ya is all. I know how boys like Daniel work. After all, I was once his age.” Looking to her, he gave his next move much thought. “You know what type girl you be?”

Amelia ignored him as she climbed onto the back of the hackney, not making eye contact. She would just remain quiet until she could get away from the man.

Morgan saw that she was trying to ignore him but pressed on anyway. “You a girl only a man like me can appreciate. You ain't pretty like the rest; you big and a young man like a small girl, one he can wrap his arms 'bout at night, but I can except that I’m older. I wants a woman who can work hard, cook, and keep me warm at night. You my type of girl, understand. Boy like Daniel only want ta use you.”

Amelia wrapped her arms about herself. Was she really that unattractive? Lorraine told her these same things but Daniel didn’t seem to notice. Staring down at her figure she concluded that maybe she could lose a few pounds.

Still, what if they were right? Lately, Nelly Taylor had been trying to spend more time with Daniel. Amelia was wary of the situation but she trusted Daniel, just not Nelly.

“Now you listen ta me. Ain't no boy gonna take care of ya like I can. I know what you are and I can settle for it. Marry one em hard headed boys and you ain't gonna be happy.”

What did he want her to say, she wondered? Right now, he was staring at her so intently she felt her skin crawl. “I’m not thinking about marrying anyone. I’m only fifteen.”