Read Online Courting Morrow Little: A Novel by Laura Frantz - Free Book Online

course she'd not mention their visits. She was so ashamed of
their coming, so fearful her father's friendship with them would
be misinterpreted, she'd keep it a secret till her dying breath.
    "Think no more of it;' he told her as they walked across the
darkening ground toward home. "We've other things to ponder.
Tomorrow's the Sabbath and we must go to the fort. You've not
been there since your homecoming. I imagine Lizzy and Jemima
will be glad to see you again"
    Would they, she wondered? If they knew about the Shawnee
coming, would they even count her as a friend?

     

Morrow took a seat on the first blockhouse bench, untying the
strings of her bonnet and placing it in her lap. She could feel the
stares given her by the Red River congregation as they shuffled
in. Perhaps she'd gone too far wearing her Philadelphia finery.
The purple cloth of the bonnet was decidedly elegant, a far cry
from simple settlement standards, with its silken cluster of lilacs
hugging the brim. She'd worn it thinking no one would notice,
or care. The bright summer's day seemed to call for it. But the
unspoken consensus seemed to say it was too fine for a preacher's
daughter. And it was creating a stir she'd not reckoned with.
    Jemima turned into her row, Lizzy in her wake. Jemima's face
was a stew of displeasure, her voice a hiss. "Morrow Mary, I wish
you'd hurry up and get hitched so the rest of us could have a
chance to do the same. As it is, you keep the men so stirred up
with your coming and going they won't light and look elsewhere:"
As if to prove her point, she turned and skewered the unmarried
men along the back row with glittering green eyes.
    Morrow shrank down a bit on the bench, solaced that she'd
given the men no encouraging glances. Still, their steadfast stares
seemed to bore a hole in her back and embarrassed her as much
as Jemima's harshness. She looked at the small watch pinned to
her bodice. Would Pa never appear?
    Once she'd counted the Sabbath her favorite day. For years
she'd been at home on the front row, squeezed between Ma
and Jess. In the shadowy corners of her mind, she could still see their silhouettes and hear baby Euphemia's fussing during
the lengthy sermons. But being here today amidst all the male
attention was something of a chore. Since she'd returned from
Philadelphia, folks seemed to regard her in a new, bewildering
way, and she couldn't quite fathom why.

    With a glance her direction, Pa passed in front of his congregants and took his place behind the pulpit near the fire. Clearing his throat, he announced, "Now that the harvest is near, the
start of singing school is at hand"
    Morrow felt a flicker of delight. There had been no singing
school that she knew of in Philadelphia, no gathering of folks
like-minded about music, singing the winter away. The fact that
the meetings were little more than an excuse for courting made
them all the more worthwhile. She couldn't count the couples
Pa had married since its humble beginnings years before.
    As soon as he'd spoken, he removed his Bible from the pulpit
and took a seat beside her. What? No sermon? She didn't need to
look at him to know something was amiss. To her right, Jemima
seemed to titter as a stranger in uniform took his place behind
the hickory pulpit. The stale air in the blockhouse suddenly
seemed warmer, the press of people more unpleasant. Morrow
took in the striking figure in buff and blue, and the telling line
of Aunt Etta's letter struck her like lightning.
    The uniformed man cleared his throat and removed his tricorn
hat, resting it on the pulpit. "To those of you who don't know,
I'm Nathaniel McKie-Major McKie of the Virginia colony. My
regiment has been sent here expressly for your protection. Red
River Station will serve as the base of military operations as we
plan our first foray into Indian territory"
    He paused as if to let the weight of his words have their
full effect. All around her, people