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  “No, Mama, I don’t.” Johanna pressed her lips together stubbornly.

  Rebecca sighed and went to the door. Her hand touched the knob and was about to turn it, when she glanced again at Johanna.

  “Remember, Johanna, anything you girls do or say reflects on us—your parents, your home, your upbringing.”

  Without looking at her, Johanna replied, “Yes, Mama, I know.”

  Chapter Four

  New Year’s Day 1840

  Coming as it did at the end of the festive holiday season, New Year’s Day had always been rather a letdown for Johanna. After the round of parties and festivities, it used to mean her reluctant return to the strict regime of Miss Pomoroy’s. This year was different. After much pleading, she had received parental permission to remain at home.

  Johanna, jubilant with that victory, had other reasons to be happy. This year it was the Shelbys’ turn to host the traditional family gathering, and the fact that Dr. Murrison and his assistant had been invited to share it with them made it special.

  Since this was Rebecca’s first time in six years to have everyone at Holly Grove for the holiday dinner, everything had to be perfect. Right after Christmas, preparations began to ready the Shelby house for the occasion. Ordinarily Johanna dreaded the uproar of housecleaning. However, this year she pitched in with energy and enthusiasm that surprised Rebecca. The fact that Ross would be a guest was, of course, the spur.

  Rebecca directed the work, allotting certain tasks and jobs to everyone. Their cook, Jensie, asked her sister, Aster, to come over and help Bessie with the heavier work of cleaning. Every nook and cranny had to be thoroughly dusted, every piece of furniture polished, the pine floors waxed. The Shelby girls were all put to work as well. All the silver had to be shined, brass candlesticks polished, the Christmas greenery refreshed, and the red bayberry candles replaced on the mantel sconces and windowsill lamps.

  Cissy frequently complained of fatigue, of being overworked, and begged to rest. Elly sighed and dawdled over every task assigned. However, Johanna’s mood was merry as she hummed at any job she was asked to do. Her cheerful attitude made her sisters alternately resentful or suspicious and mystified her mother. Even so, Rebecca appreciated her willingness to help with everything. For the time being, Rebecca’s mind was concentrated on the result of her efforts: perfection. The annual New Year’s Day dinner was an unadmitted competition among the ladies, each one trying to outdo the others when it was her turn. Secretly Johanna thought the beginning of a new decade was terribly exciting. 1840! What would the next year hold? The next ten? She had been a mere child at the beginning of the last—now she was a young woman with everything to look forward to. The possibilities seemed endless. Johanna’s imagination went soaring. Heavens, she would be twenty-eight at the end of another decade. All sorts of things would have happened to her by then.

  At last all was in readiness. The house sparkled and shone. The smell of lemon wax, almond paste, the fragrance of balsalm potpourri from bowls set about the rooms, the spicy aroma of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg from baking pies, mingled with the scent of cedar boughs and evergreen pine wreaths still hanging at the windows.

  New Year’s Day dawned with overcast skies. Gray clouds hovered with the promise of more snow. Before leaving for the special New Year’s Day services at noon, Rebecca made a lastminute survey of her domain, satisfying herself that all was in perfect order. She anticipated that her cousins would give the Shelby household a polite yet precise appraisal. At length, everything met her approval, and the family went off to church.

  Johanna hoped she would see Ross there. Although the shape of her bonnet kept her eyes reverently toward the pulpit, precluding any possible sidelong glances, under her jade velvet pelisse trimmed with beaver, her heart raced. He might be there observing her! But there was no sign of him, either in the back pews as they left or in the churchyard. An emergency of some sort? A sick child? A dying patient? A doctor’s life was full of such unexpected happenings. What might have prevented his attendance at church could also cause him not to come to dinner. Such a possibility dismayed her.

  Johanna had no time to dwell on such a catastrophe, because no sooner had the Shelbys reached home than the aunties and their husbands began to arrive.

  Each lady brought her very best culinary effort to add to the veritable feast Rebecca and Jensie had prepared. Each cousin prided herself on being a fine cook, so each dish presented was to be profusely praised. By the time everyone gathered in the parlor for a holiday libation, all were in a good mood, ready to see the old year out and welcome in the new.

  Although she circulated among her relatives, chatting with each in turn as her mother would have her do, Johanna kept stealing surreptitious glances at the grandfather clock in the hall. Each time she passed a window, she glanced out hopefully, longing to see Ross coming through the gate. Even while trying to respond to some of the parlor conversation, she strained her ears for the sound of the knocker on the front door.

  She knew dinner was planned for five o’clock. Please don’t be late, she prayed. Delaying dinner would upset her mother, and she wanted Ross’s first visit to come off well. Even a medical emergency would not be an excuse if her mother’s sweet potato soufflé collapsed.

  In an uncharacteristic state of mind, Ross Davison walked through the gathering winter dusk on his way out to Holly Grove. This would be the first time he would see Johanna in her own home, one he knew was far different from his own. During his time in Hillsboro, he had been in enough homes of people like the Shelbys to realize just how different their backgrounds were.

  Ever since he’d met Johanna, his feelings both daunted and excited him. Every time he saw her, his pulse rate was erratic, his heartbeat accelerated. He had to ask himself a dozen times a day what kind of madness this was. His hopes were probably impossible. All week he had debated whether or not to find some way to get out of the invitation Dr. Murrison had accepted for them both. He had argued both sides, vacillating. It would be wiser not to go, something told him. However, the thought of missing a chance to see her, be with her again, proved too much. Now here he was, on his way.

  Holly trees lined the curving driveway up to the impressive house of pink brick with white columns and black shutters. Standing at the gate, Ross looked up at the Shelby home. In the twilight, all the windows, adorned with scarletbowed wreaths, were lit with candles.

  He swallowed hard, then opened the gate and went forward, up the porch steps. At the paneled door, there was another moment of hesitation. Then resolutely he raised his hand to the gleaming brass knocker in the shape of a pineapple, the traditional symbol of southern hospitality.

  When Johanna opened the door for him herself, Ross was caught off guard. In a red and green plaid dress that rustled crisply, she looked so enchanting that it quite took his breath away. “Oh Ross, I’m so glad!” she said impulsively, then attempted to regain a proper manner. “Good evening. Do come in.” She stepped back so he could enter.

  Feeling tongue-tied. Ross struggled for words. He fumbled to take off his hat, held it awkwardly until he realized she was holding out her hand to take it so she could place it on the rack by the door. “Where’s Dr. Murrison?” she asked.

  “He’ll be along soon,” Ross assured her. “Just as we were leaving, an old patient stopped by to bring him a Christmas present, and nothing would do but that he come in for some cheer. You know how it is at holiday time.”

  A burst of laughter and the sound of voices floated out from the parlor. Ross glanced in that direction, an unmistakable look of alarm on his face. Johanna caught it and realized how shy he was. Immediately she sought to put him at ease. “Don’t look so startled. It’s only family. Of course, there are quite a lot of them,” she laughed gaily. “But they’re all quite harmless.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Just try not to sit down by Aunt Hannah, or she’ll regale you with all her symptoms. I’ll seat you by Auntie Bee. She’s a dear and will want to know
all about you.” Smiling encouragingly, she took his arm and led him into the parlor.

  To Ross the elegantly furnished room seemed filled with dozens of pairs of eyes, all turned to him. Johanna began to introduce him. The names went in one ear and out the other, the faces all became blurred. Ross was grateful to sit down at last. A jovial, gray-whiskered gentleman handed him a cup of eggnog. Later he unobtrusively placed it on the small pie crust table at his elbow. He was sure it contained spirits, and he was not a drinking man.

  Seated across the room, between Uncles Matt and Radford, Johanna looked at Ross fondly. Even his awkwardness touched her. However, Johanna tried to see him through the appraising eyes of her mother, her aunties. Johanna knew they would probably not consider him handsome in the slightest. However, to her there was such strength in his rugged features, sensitivity in his expression, depth of intelligence in his eyes, that she thought him one of the finestlooking men she had ever seen.

  Within twenty minutes the front door knocker sounded and Dr. Murrison arrived. He and Tennant Shelby were old friends and he knew the others, so he was completely at ease. At once he was drawn into the general conversation of the group. The Shelbys, Millses, Hayeses, Cadys, McMillans, and Breckenridges never lacked for topics to discuss, debate, or argue about. The fact that the young doctor was sitting quietly, observing Johanna, went quite unnoticed—except by her mother.

  Rebecca had excused herself to give her beautifully set table a last critical look before inviting the company to come into the dining room. Pleased that her best china, with its sculptured edge of flowers, gleamed in the glow of candles in two six-branched silver holders, she gave a final touch to the centerpiece, an artistic arrangement of fruit and pinecones. Then Rebecca returned to the parlor. She stood at the threshold, waiting for the appropriate moment to invite everyone to come in and be seated. It was then, with a sudden sharpeninging of her senses, that she saw Ross unabashedly staring at Johanna.

  It struck her with that alertness one recognizes as impending threat or danger. Immediately she glanced at her daughter. Her face illuminated by firelight, Johanna was indeed lovely. Her dark hair, parted in the middle, with bunches of curls on either side of her face, was tied with crimson ribbons. A fluting of ruffles framed her face and slender neck. However, it was her expression that caused Rebecca’s intake of breath. Johanna was gazing across the room at the young doctor, with the same raptness in her eyes as his!

  Johanna’s eyes held nothing back. Their glance was softly melting. Rebecca knew her daughter so well. Why, the girl’s in love! Rebecca felt heat rising into her face. How in the world did that happen? There was only time for those fleeting thoughts. No time for her awareness to do more than register. Just then, Tennant caught her attention lifting eyebrows in a silent question. At her nod, he got to his feet, announcing, “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I believe my dear wife has come to fetch us in to dinner.”

  Seated across the table from him, Johanna watched Ross from under the fringe of her lashes. She felt a tenderness she had never known for anyone, along with the realization that he was feeling uncomfortable. He moved the lined-up silverware at his place nervously as he tried to pay close attention to what Uncle Madison Cady was expounding. Ross seemed so stiff, so different from the joking, laughing young man she had danced with, pummeled with snowballs, and talked with so freely at other times. Of course, it was meeting all her relatives. That must be hard on a stranger. Her sympathy came to the surface as she watched how he remained mostly silent after answering a few questions politely put to him. But to Johanna, everything about him seemed somehow so endearing and sweet. For example, how he had bent his head considerately to speak to Auntie Bee so that her deafness would not demand his repeating.

  Rebecca’s practiced glance passed over the table, her hostess’s eye making sure everyone was enjoying the meal. Her gaze rested upon Johanna and, alerted, moved quickly across to young Dr. Davison, then back to her daughter. Neither of them were eating! Johanna had hardly touched her food! Where was her normal hearty appetite, an appetite that Rebecca had often claimed was too hearty, unladylike? She was only nibbling, pushing her carrots around her plate with her fork.

  Something was going on between those two. Rebecca remembered she had felt that same little dart of alarm watching them together at the Chalmerses’ party earlier in the month. But she thought her word of caution to Johanna about her frivolous behavior had settled it. Even as that thought passed through her mind, she saw an exchange of glances between Johanna and the young doctor. Rebecca knew that look, recognized it for what it was. Surely not love but certainly romantic infatuation. A twinge of possible problems pinched Rebecca. No question about it, she must speak to Johanna again.

  Dinner finally came to an end, with everyone declaring they had eaten too much and enjoyed it immensely. They all returned to the parlor and settled back into chairs, on sofas, and a kind of desultory conversation ensued. For a few minutes Rebecca lost track of the topic everyone seemed to be discussing. She was distracted by the sight of Johanna and the young doctor sitting together at the other end of the room, conversing. Johanna’s attitude was that of someone intently listening to Dr. Davison’s every word. The scene had the look of intimacy Rebecca felt inappropriate. If she could have overheard their conversation, she would have been even more upset.

  Ross was saying, “There are some things I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—some things I’d like you to know about me. Maybe I’m speaking out of place—I don’t know. I don’t have all the social graces I know you’re accustomed to—I know your family, your background, is a great deal different from mine.” He hesitated. “But Miss Shelby, I come from good folks, honest, hardworking, God-fearing folks with a lot of pride. I am the oldest in my family. My father died—was killed logging, actually. I didn’t get much schooling after that. That is, until a friend of Dr. Murrison’s, a teacher, saw something in me—a hunger to learn, maybe—and talked my mother into letting me come with him into town, live with his family, go to school. I always wanted to be a doctor—I don’t know why—always wanted to help things that were hurt, animals, children, anyone who was sick.” Ross halted. “I wanted most of all to learn doctoring so I could go back to the mountains and minister to my people. I’ve seen children die that didn’t need to, men die from blood poisoning, women—well, all kinds of sicknesses and disease nobody knew how to treat or cure. And since I got my chance, I want to give something back. Can you understand that?”

  “Oh, yes!” Johanna said breathlessly, completely entranced by his earnestness. No young man had ever spoken to her like this, about serious things, important things, things that counted. She was amazed and touched and thrilled that Ross Davison wanted to share these things—evidently so dear to his heart—with her.

  “You may wonder why I’m telling you all this. I don’t usually talk so much, not about myself anyway. But I needed to tell you. I felt you’d understand, Miss Shelby—”

  “Oh, please, call me Johanna!”

  Ross looked doubtful. “I’ve never known anyone like you before. I haven’t had much time for socializing. When I was at college, I had to work, and then there were my studies. I’m not much at dancin’”—his eyes twinkled—“as you found out!”

  “You did quite well,” Johanna smiled, “experienced or not!”

  Ross paused for a moment. “I was looking forward very much to coming to your home tonight. Your mother was very kind to include me. She didn’t have to just because Dr. Murrison is an old family friend.”

  “But you couldn’t be alone on New Year’s Day!” exclaimed Johanna. “It’s such a special occasion.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is. We never made much of holidays at home—” He then stopped. “Anyway, it was very gracious—”

  “It was lovely to have you.”

  Rebecca decided it was time to interrupt. The two were completely absorbed in each other. Someone was bound to notice, then there’d be questions. She would
ask Johanna to go to the kitchen, bring back fresh coffee to replenish everyone’s cup. Before she could put idea to action, Dr. Murrison rose, declaring he must take his leave. Immediately his assistant also got to his feet. Reluctantly, Rebecca was sure, from the way his gaze lingered on Johanna.

  After bidding everyone good-bye and thanking Rebecca for her hospitality, the two physicians went toward the hall. Mr. Shelby accompanied them, and before Rebecca could invent some excuse to stop her, Johanna quickly followed.

  While Dr. Murrison and her father finished up their conversation, Ross asked her shyly, “I wondered if you’ll be going to the taffy pull at the Chalmerses’ next Wednesday?”

  “Yes! Will you?”

  “Miss Liddy was kind enough to invite me.”

  “Then we shall see each other there,” Johanna said brightly.

  “Yes,” Ross replied solemnly. “I shall look forward to it.”

  When the door closed behind them and her father returned to the parlor, Johanna spun around a couple of times in an impromptu dance. She felt her spirits soaring outrageously. Spinning to a stop, she suddenly knew. Why, this was falling in love!

  The night of the Chalmerses’ party, Johanna had felt something happen between them. She hadn’t quite known what. Startled, her lips formed the words: I love him! To her own astonishment, she knew it was true.

  Chapter Five

  The evening of the taffy pull, Johanna was invited to stay overnight with her friend Liddy.

  Winter taffy pull parties were one of the most popular kinds of social get-togethers for young people. Although it was not openly admitted, the romantic potential of such an evening was widely accepted. At least, the young people themselves regarded it as romantic. If their parents did not, it was only because their memories were short. Often such a casual, spontaneous evening of two-by-two candy making developed into a more serious courtship. Under the laughter and gaiety and visible adult supervision, it afforded a means for couples to pair off without raised eyebrows. Within the guise of making candy, there was the chance for a quick hug and kiss in an alcove or corner. In fact, it was one of those well-circulated sayings, part joke and part truth, that a winter night of pulling taffy often resulted in a June wedding.