In her room, Natalie pulled a grass-green silk day dress from the back of the wardrobe, having kept it from becoming threadbare as most of her other gowns had grown. The wide collar buttoned at her throat and gave way to delicate ruffles across her chest while larger side-panel ruffles on the skirt fell in gentle waves to the floor. Luther had always called her the Mistress of the Manor when she wore it and gave mock bows when she entered a room.
Carolina arrived to help her get dressed. Natalie had the servant cinch her corset tighter than usual, frowning into the mirror when she noticed that despite being overly thin, her hips had most assuredly broadened since giving birth to Samuel. Vanity seemed silly in the face of all her troubles, but she couldn’t help wanting to look her best when she met with Colonel Maish. She was, after all, Calvin Langford’s daughter and the widow of George Ellis. She had a responsibility to their memories.
“That Yankee colonel shore gonna see what a lady you is, dressed in yo’ finery with yo’ hair done up all nice.” Carolina finished buttoning the dress and started to work on Natalie’s hair. The servant combed, teased, and pinned curls in place, expertly fashioning Natalie’s hair into a becoming style. “He think twice ’bout taking charge of yo’ property like you some silly addlebrained woman who cain’t think fo’ herself.”
Natalie sighed. “I fear I may have no choice in the matter. Even if he does send word to his superior, I doubt that man will care about my wishes any more than Colonel Maish does.”
“Maybe Señor Lopez could help you get them soldiers off yo’ land,” Carolina said. “He seem to be an important man. Has all them cows an’ rides a fine horse. He always treat you nice, too.”
The swarthy face of Alexander Lopez came to mind. A few years older than George, the attractive man claimed his Mexican roots prevented him from taking sides in the war, conveniently keeping him safe in Texas while men like her husband went off and got themselves killed. Being in the cattle business, Señor Lopez— Alexander, as he’d asked her to call him—had approached Natalie a year ago, interested in leasing Rose Hill pastures. With most of their cattle long since slaughtered or sold, and with bank notes overdue and no way to market her cotton, she had agreed. Vaqueros arrived shortly afterward with the first herd of cattle, staying to allow the stock to graze on Rose Hill grasses a few weeks at most. Not long after they departed, another group of Mexican cowboys arrived with more cattle, and so began a routine. Alexander, too, made an appearance at the plantation every few weeks with his interest being not only in the land but, as became obvious after a few visits, in Natalie herself. He had hinted more than once at a possible union between them.
In the reflection of the mirror, Natalie watched Carolina carefully place a stiff green bonnet with lace edging on her styled hair, leaving the ribbons dangling. Throughout the restless night, weighing the decisions she had to make and the few options available, she had not considered enlisting Alexander’s help. She knew very little about him, considering all the time he’d spentat Rose Hill the past year. He was always rather vague when she inquired about his business and family, but his manners and speech were impeccable. She’d never had cause to believe he was anything other than a gentleman rancher.
“If Señor Lopez should stop by, I’m sure he would lend assistance. However, that does not help me today.” Natalie stood, giving herself a critical study in the mirror. She did look more mature with her hair coiffed. Her gown, too, was more akin to what the mistress of a large plantation would wear than the sheer summery dress from the previous day. Would the Yankee colonel, as Carolina had suggested, see her as such and give her the respect due her position?
Outside, Moses helped her onto the wagon seat while Carolina settled in the bed for the hour-long journey. The fancy carriages she would have preferred to arrive in had long since been sold to pay creditors, leaving a farm wagon as their only choice.
When Moses turned the team in the direction of the long drive, Natalie was surprised to see a dozen or so workers out in the fields. “I admit I hadn’t expected to see anyone at work today.” She looked at Moses, knowing he had to be responsible.
He glanced at her, then back to the road. “Them folks is employed by you now, Miz Natalie. Just ’cuz freedom come don’t mean the weeds is gonna stop growin’. Critters still need tendin’. Garden still needs waterin’. I tells them you is workin’ on how to pay them, whether it be in cash money or crops or some such.”
“Thank you, Moses.” Looking out to the handful of laborers, Natalie felt like weeping. While she was grateful they were willing to stay
