Always & Forever: A Saga of Slavery and Deliverance (The Plantation Series Book 1) by Gretchen Craig Read Free Book Online

Josie avoided her mother’s bedroom.
Ursaline, the midwife and her apprentice Marie carried baskets and basins out of
the room. Only Grand-mère looked in on them as they changed the bed and washed
the body.
    At noon Bibi brought a pitcher of cool lemonade and a plate
of ham and cake. “Sit down, Mam’zelle. You wear yourself down you don’ eat.”
    “What’s Papa doing?”
    “Elbow John fixing his bath. You can see yo Papa after.”
    By mid-afternoon, Josie had the house filled with make-shift
beds reassembled from the frames stored in the barn. Some of them were made up
with worn linen, but each had a plump pillow and mosquito netting.
    Josie found her grandmother in the cookhouse. Grand-mère’s
sleeves were rolled up and she wore an apron over her black dress. Grand-mère
knew how to roll a pie crust as well as Louella, and the next day, they would
need more food than any one cook could provide. The sweat beaded on her
forehead and upper lip, but not one curl escaped the cotton cap on Grand-mère’s
head.
    Louella’s two scullery maids were bustling around the cooks,
and Josie sought a corner at the table where she’d be out of the way.
    “Mémère, the beds are ready.”
    Grand-mère handed Josie a basket of pecans. “These need
shelling and picking.”
    Louella tied an apron around Josie’s waist and passed her a
nut cracker. Grand-mère filled a pie with sausage and potatoes, then rolled out
the next crust.
    “Tomorrow, Josephine, you will be hostess to a great many
people. The family, of course, including the Chamards from Cane River. But some
of the newcomers, l’américains , will come to pay their respects.”
    “My English is not so very good, Mémère.”
    “You should know by now, Josephine, that people find a woman
charming if she listens, not if she talks.” Grand-mère gestured for Josie to
pass her the salt.
    “I want you to pay special attention to the Johnstons,”
Grand-mère said. “They’ve built a big house on the old Rénard place. Louella,
where’s the cinnamon?”
    “I’ll get it,” Josie said.
    “Mr. Johnston is going to need cane shoots to plant the new
fields next spring,” Grand-mère said. “I want him to buy them from us. Your
father has lost heavily at the track again this past winter, and we need the
cash. So you will see to it that the Johnston family is welcomed and made
comfortable.”
    Josie squeezed so hard the nut shattered instead of cracked.
Grand-mère expected her to conduct business on the very day of Maman’s funeral?
When she ran Toulouse, she would never be so heartless, never.
    Cleo came in and curtsied to Grand-mère. “Monsieur DeBlieux
is here, Madame. The son, that is.”
    “Good. I sent word I’d need provisions. Josie, go see what
he has. We’ll need it, whatever it is.” As Josie wiped her hands, Grand-mère
added, “Mind your purse.”
    She would not embarrass herself this time, Josie resolved.
He was just a Cajun, no matter how good looking he was. She held her hand out
to Cleo. “I’ll carry the money.”
    Josie and Cleo found the young man standing in the shade of
the underhouse, not slouching against a pillar. Phanor removed his straw hat
when he saw Josie.
    She studied his sober face. No hint of the mocking amusement
she’d seen in his eyes last time.
    “Mademoiselle. I offer you my condolences.”
    Josie dipped her head.
    “My Maman passed on in the new year,” he said. “I am sorry
for your loss.”
    “ Merci , monsieur. And I am sorry for yours also.”
    After an awkward moment, Josie said, “What have you brought,
monsieur?”
    “In the wagon, under the trees. Let me show you.”
    He uncovered the baskets and itemized the hens, the fish,
the black-eyed peas, the eggs, the dried apples.
    “The fish, they are no charge,” Phanor told her. “ Mon
pére , he say I ask too much for the heart of the palms.” He did not look at
either Cleo or Josie. “If you please, the fish are to balance our account with
Madame