Courting Morrow Little: A Novel (12 page)

"Well, Lizzy and Abe have got things a bit backward.. " His
voice trailed off, and she straightened and looked at him. He
avoided her eyes, reddening further beneath his fine hat. "For
heaven's sake, Daughter. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

Still befuddled, she said nothing.

He coughed. "We'll be blessing their baby come spring, understand. I cannot be any plainer than that"

Lizzy ... expecting? It was Morrow's turn to redden. The lace
christening cap came to mind, along with her innocent words over
tea. I hope you andAbe are blessed with a son or daughter real soon.
Well, perhaps not this soon Flustered, she made a sudden move,
overturning her cup. Hot coffee gushed onto the table and dripped
onto the pine planks below. She was only too glad to get down on
the floor and clean it up, hiding from his aggravated gaze.

First Good Robe and now Lizzy. Morrow felt a fierce rush
of what could only be called covetousness. She'd always loved
babies ...

"They've asked to be married in a fortnight;' he said, standing
and wiping his brow with a handkerchief. "In the meantime,
maybe I'd better send you to see Aunt Sally. I'd hoped that my
dear sister had time enough to discuss these matters given the
two years you spent with her in the city. But I can see that she
taught you to sew and little else."

She stood up, perplexed. "Discuss what matters, Pa?"

"Matters of the heart. Falling in love with the right man.
Waiting to bed till you're wed" He took off his hat then jammed
it back on his head, turning toward the door.

She stood speechless at this indelicate outburst. Rarely had
she seen him so addled. Since her homecoming, he seemed to
treat her differently, almost with a sort of awe, even dread, as if
he didn't know quite what to do with her.

Lizzy and Abe ... and a baby?

She felt slightly hurt that Lizzy hadn't confided the happy
news, ill-timed though it was. Well, there was little to be done
except ready her dress, like Pa said, and pray for good weather.
There was no finer frolic than a wedding, she mused. No matter
the season or circumstance.

Once again Morrow stood before the dusty mirror on the east
side of the dogtrot, the chaotic remains of the cabin all around
her. Spiderwebs glinted silver in the morning light, and the huge
stone hearth gaped empty like the mouth of a cave. She'd come
over to peer into the full-length looking glass and didn't mean
to tarry, just linger long enough to check for any stray strings
or buttons she might have missed when dressing for Lizzy's
wedding.

She'd shunned her Philadelphia finery, Jemima's dark face
hovering in her mind. No doubt she'd accuse Morrow of trying to outshine Lizzy if she wore such. With this in mind, she'd
remade one of Ma's old dresses, adding lace to the sleeves and
bodice and embroidering tiny rosebuds on the pale lavender
skirt. The gown was fetching but looked somewhat incomplete.
Spying a dusty trunk, Morrow knelt down and lifted the heavy
lid. It opened with a groan, the interior musty, but in moments
she'd come up with some ivory combs. A smile stole over her
pale face, and she murmured, "Thank you;' feeling her mother
had given her a gift.

When she met Pa on the porch-the combs holding up her
weight of hair, the remade dress falling in graceful lines to the
porch-something passed over his face that she couldn't fathom.
Was he remembering the dress had been Ma's? Or about to
rebuke her for trespassing to the east side of the cabin?

"We'll have to take the wagon, Morrow," he finally said. "I'm
afraid your horse will soil you"

"But Pa, I'm only the bridesmaid, not the bride"

"You might be by day's end, he murmured.

She felt slightly sick at his scrutiny and started into the cabin.
"I'll go change. I have another dress if this one's too fancy .. .

"It's not the dress, Daughter:" He paused and smiled slightly
at her confusion. "You have no idea how lovely you are. That's
part of your charm. You are so like .."

Adele? The near mention of her mother's name turned her
melancholy. Did he know she'd been missing a mother more
of late? Wishing she had a sister, at least? There were so many
questions she couldn't ask him, fine father that he was. Womanly
things. Heartfelt things. Things a man might laugh at. Lately
the lack of a close confidante left an unmistakable ache deep
inside her.

Her voice turned plaintive. "Pa, please don't worry with the
wagon, or we'll be late. I like riding Belle as she's so gentle"

He finally nodded and went to fetch the mare. All the miles
to the fort she tried not to imagine Ma riding beside Pa, dressed
in the gown she now wore, still lovely in midlife, untouched
by tragedy. Jess would be there-and Euphemia, all grown up,
sixteen to her eighteen. A fine family, whole and unbroken.
Yet in such turbulent times, who on the frontier could boast
of this?

She was, she reminded herself, on the way to a wedding and
wouldn't give quarter to melancholy. Self-pity was of the devil,
Pa said. So she simply looked around, letting the wonders of
the wilderness rush in and fill all the lonesome places inside
her. A warm autumn wind bent the tall timothy and bluegrass,
and the sky was aswirl with wispy clouds. Her prayers for fine
weather this day had been answered.

The fort's front gates were open wide, overseen by soldiers bearing muskets, and revelers were already rolling kegs of cider
across the common in anticipation of the dancing. In the midst
of the melee was Major McKie in full dress uniform. The certainty that he was waiting for them seemed to release a bevy
of butterflies inside her. When he spied them trotting through
the gate, he hurried over to help her down, holding tightly to
her gloved hand just as he'd done on the Sabbath.

"I'm a bit late ... Lizzy might need me," she said with a beguiling half smile.

For just a moment their eyes met, his astonishingly blue-a
different hue than her own, but equally startling in his deeply
tanned face. She read a dozen different things in his gaze-all
admiring. Murmuring an apology, she excused herself, leaving
Pa alone with him.

The Freemans' cabin was tucked in a corner beside the northeast blockhouse, the door open. She hurried there now beneath
a sun that foretold ten o'clock, an hour ahead of the nuptials.

"Morrow, I feared you weren't comin, Lizzyexclaimed, standing on the threshold and catching sight of her. "Hurry and help
me dress. Aunt Hannah is tendin' to the food and I can't find
Alice"

Alice was often missing, Morrow mused, feeling a fondness
for Lizzy's wayward younger sister. The cabin's interior was dim,
and the grease lamps smoked miserably. Morrow worked hard
not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of burned bacon. Since
Lizzy's mother had died two years before, the family had yet to
manage her absence well, and Morrow saw reminders of her
everywhere about the cramped cabin.

As she helped her friend into the heavy gown, she tried not
to eye her waist. "Lizzy, you look beautiful. I know Abe will
agree."

Lizzy smoothed the just-pressed rose brocade with rough
hands. "I can't thank you enough for the dress. It's just right for a wedding ... makes me feel like a bride. Now, can you help me
pin the veil in place?"

Standing before a cracked mirror, Morrow arranged the delicate lace around the knot of curls atop her friend's fair head,
letting it fall about her shoulders. Even yellowed with age and
torn in one corner, its fragile lines were full of grace.

"It was Ma's veil;' Lizzy told her.

"It goes with the gown like it was made for it, Morrow
said, securing the last pin. "Oh, Lizzy, 'tis a lovely day to be a
bride. Seems like everyone in the settlement is here to wish
you well:'

Pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks, Lizzy stole another
look at herself in the mirror. "I reckon your pa told you Abe and
I couldn't wait:"

Morrow lowered her head and fussed with the veil. "I wish
you'd told me, Lizzy. You're my dearest friend, remember."

"I wanted to but didn't know how. Guess I'll get to use that
christening cap you brought me soon enough. I do wish we'd
waited, though. I'm about to bust out of this dress!"

Morrow fingered some posies in a vase atop a bureau. "You
can hold these flowers in front of you, like this" Taking them,
she wrapped the stems in a handkerchief she'd brought and
passed them to Lizzy, angling her hands down in front of her
waist. But on Lizzy's thin frame, the baby was already showing, and no bouquet could hide it. Morrow wondered how far
along she was.

"I reckon folks'll laugh to see me waddle to the river," she
lamented. "I'll be bearin' in spring. March ... April maybe'

"What's done is done, Lizzy," Morrow said softly. "Best think
of your baby now. There's nothing finer than a family. Now, what
else do you need before we walk to the river?"

"I need to sit down and rest a spell. This heavy dress makes
me feel a mite woozy."

Morrow reached for a pitcher of water and a cup. "You're not
going to faint, I hope."

Lizzy chuckled. "You're better at that than I am. Remember
that last frolic right before you left for Philadelphia?"

Morrow flushed. "'Twas the heat:"

"More than not it was all that male attention," Lizzy said with
a knowing smile, taking a sip of water. "And now Abe tells me
you've caught the eye of several settlement men ... and one
too many soldiers"

At this, Morrow looked up, surprise swirling inside her. One
too many? Did she mean McKie? Was it already being bandied
about the fort? Sitting down across from her friend, she shook
her head. "I never meant to catch their eyes"

"You can't help it, I reckon," Lizzy acknowledged. "Folks say
you take after your mother, that she turned the head of every
man from Virginia to Kentucke when your father brought her
over Cumberland Gap"

Morrow bit her lip. It seemed odd that mere strangers could
recall what she could not. Her own meager memories of her
mother seemed in tatters. "I remember so little, Lizzy"

Ta said your ma was the prettiest woman he ever saw and
you're just like her'

"Truly, I don't see what all the fuss is about. When I look in
the mirror, I see plain Morrow Mary Little, too short and too
stout, who's afraid of her own shadow"

Lizzy chuckled and shook her head. "You know why Jemima
just about spits every time she sees you, don't you? She can
hardly catch a beau, yet you don't seem to want one and could
have any man you please, even Major McKie"

Morrow exhaled in a little rush, glancing at the open door.
"He's quite bold. I-I don't know what to make of him"

A sudden wariness etched across Lizzy's features, and her
voice faded to a whisper. "I'd hoped he might be the man for you, Yankee Doodle Dandy that he is. But Abe said you'd best
be careful, Morrow'

Morrow tensed. "Careful? But I've not encouraged him"

"I'm glad of that. Abe told me somethin' about McKie forcin'
his attentions on a woman at another post. And then there was
that ugly business with the Shawnee'

Morrow looked at her blankly, her bright opinion of the major
beginning to tarnish. Lizzy darted another glance at the cabin
door. "Shortly before McKie came here, he was stationed at Fort
Randolph. That's the fort up the Kanawha about a hundred miles
from here. A few months ago, Cornstalk, the principal chief of
all the Shawnee, rode in there with his son and another Indian,
carryin' a white flag. They wanted to warn the soldiers that
because the whites were breakin' the latest treaty made there,
Cornstalk could no longer control all his warriors from raidin'
the Kentucke settlements:'

"But why would the Shawnee come near a fort and put themselves in danger?"

"Abe said it was a matter of honor. Cornstalk promised during the treaty that he would report any trouble, be it Indian or
white. But instead of dealin' with them fairly and lettin' them
go, the soldiers took the three Indians prisoner' Her expression
tightened. "McKie broke into the blockhouse where the three
Shawnee were being held. A group of soldiers came with him,
and they started shootin' and clubbin' the Indians till-"