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“Let me take off my coat, so you can sit on it.”
“Thank you, but it isn’t necessary. The groundisn’t damp and this is an old skirt. A little dirt won’t ruin it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.” She’d never had a man make such an offer before, and she was touched by his show of concern.
He didn’t appear convinced by her response but sat beside her and looked out at the activity below. “I never knew the New Orleans port was so busy.”
“Louisiana exports a lot of sugar and timber, and New Orleans is one of the busiest ports in the country, I’m told. Before the war it was even busier, but it’s been neglected for some time and silt is blocking the channel. Supposedly the people in charge are looking for a solution.”
They began eating. She’d grabbed a canteen of water from the wagon so they’d have something to drink.
“How’s your sandwich?” she asked.
“You were right. This fish is outstanding. Is all the food here so well seasoned?”
She smiled. “Yes, because if it isn’t, we won’t eat it.”
“Boston could learn a thing or two from the cooks here.”
She turned to him. “See how nicely we’re getting along. We’re making small talk and everything.”
He laughed. “Yes, we are.”
“And since I’m making nice, thanks again for being so kind to Dorrie this morning.”
“You’re welcome. Is she family? Your cousins told me the story of her birth.”
She shook her head. “She isn’t blood. When her mother passed away, the only other family she had was an elderly aunt. She didn’t want Dorrie. Said her being dead and then alive meant the devil was in her, so the midwife brought her to Mama, and she’s been with us ever since.”
“It was kind of your mother to take her in.”
“It’s what she does. Her six brothers sired quite a number of children by their wives and mistresses. Mama has made it a point to bring the children together regularly so they’ll know their cousins and half brothers and sisters, and that they’re all family. Even though the mothers may not get along, the children do because of her.”
“Where are you uncles now?”
“Uncle Abram is in Cuba. My uncles Saul and Tomas died of yellow fever in ’67. Uncle Isaac was killed in ’66 during the Mechanics Institute massacre when the New Orleans police, rebs, and supremacists joined forces to stop the new state constitution from being formed. It was a horrific day. Many people lost their lives.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. I read about the killings in the newspaper. People up North were outraged.”
She thought back on how the family grieved,then turned her mind away to block out the memories of her mother’s pain. “Uncle David was killed at the battle of Gettysburg, and Uncle Ezekial, the baby of the family, drowned on his fishing boat during a storm.”
“Lots of tragedy,” he said quietly.
“More than our share, I believe. My uncles were outrageous, bigger-than-life individuals. We miss them very much.”
“My condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“And my apologies for making you sad.”
“None needed. My guess is you were wondering why you hadn’t seen many menfolk so far.”
“Honestly, I was.”
Raven looked out at the Mississippi stretching as far as the eye could see, and drew in its muddy, tangy scent. To her it was the scent of life. Death. Family. Home. Even with all the tragedy, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
