Moriahs' Story Part 2

My mind takes me back in time, to another place, another century…when things were not much different as now with the balls and galas and pomp and circumstance. Especially the circumstance.

I was out on the veranda when you rode up. Tall dark and handsome just like the books always said heroes were supposed to be. You were looking for Papa, there was a spot of property down the road you wanted to buy. I quit fanning long enough to get one of the servants to take you to him.  I watched out of half closed lids you looking back at me with that intent stare. Well now. Someone buying the old Simmons place. With your accent, I knew you weren’t from around these parts. And I knew that you weren’t from up North. That put a bee in my bonnet as to where you were actually from, so when papa was done with his business with you, and you had gone, I started to ask.

I poured him some lemon aide as soon as his feet hit the steps leading up to the shady spot on the veranda. He sat down heavily, and out of breath. His hair was graying around the temples and he wasn’t as fit as he used to be, Rosey’s dumplings being his favorite, we had them more often now that he was back home from the war. Sherman may had gotten Atlanta, battles were fought all over the states here, but they never touched the Hyperion. My grans majick was strong, and this was one way of proving it. We were not the type to ever own slaves, but we had paid servants and hired hands who were free, something unheard of here in the South. My papa  grew corn and cotton, just as a hobby of course. Our money was the original ‘old’ money here. Our family tree went way back, farther than any Adams, or Johnson that lived around these parts. He had bought this place in the early part of the 1800’s, just because he loved the setting and the weather here. Papa said it was just so darn damp in England all the time, he didn’t like the other places he’d traveled to, so when he saw this place, with its’ lake, ponds, tree’s and beauty all around, he bought it without a thought.

So, I gave him his lemon aide, and commenced the grilling about you.

“Papa?”

“Yes Moriah.” He said taking a sip.

“Um..just who mightent that fancy young man been who rode up here like hell was afta him?” I said fanning , acting distracted by the bug on my skirt.

Papa took a big long gulp of the cool drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That my dear, is somebody you don’t want to involve your pretty little head ova. He’s a scoundrel.”

I smiled secretly. I always did fancy scoundrels.”Is he a carpetbagger?”

“Good God no!” Papa spat.

“Well then, is he a..polition?” papa slid his eyes my way and half grinned, knowing where this game was leading.

“No. he isn’t a polition, but could verra easy make himself a right good one.”

“Well, was he a soldja?”

Papa cocked his head in thought. “I think he was actually..but don’t know for which side.”

Okay, some progress I see. “Is he from round here?”

“Uh, that would be a big no. He’s not from around the state. I think He’s deeper south than that.”

“Deeper south? How deeper south?”

Papa cracked up, not being one to hold out for too long, thank the Gods, because I was really running out of questions to ask him.

“I think his father is from Mexico, and maybe his mother is from up a ways. He has that look you know, dark skin, dark eyes. Nice man seems to be, but not nice enough for you, so get him outta that little mind of yours.” Papa returned the glass to the platter, got up and walked into the house.

I sat there for a few moments longer, rocking in that big old rocking chair of grans.

I will find out. I will get to know exactly who you are my strange knight.

And I did didn’t I? Not long after your first trip to Hyperion, you came again. And this time, I knew to be ready for you.

You rode up, this time with that fancy carriage of yours, two horses instead of just one, a driver, and a really nice looking young lady at your side. Already I started to feel a little pang of the green eyed monster stir within me. Here it was, I just met you once, and little did I know, there was another woman in the picture!

Your driver helped her out, and I remember, her dress tail got caught on the step. I had to hide behind my fan, for fear of anyone seeing me grin at that. You, being the gentleman you are, ran over to assist her in getting it loose without a rip or tear.

When you looked up, our eyes met. And for the first time, I felt my heart flutter in my chest. Your smile was gleaming and broad across your face. I don’t know the look on mine, unless it was just in awe of the god that stood before me.

You wore black. Black pants that fit tight around your rugged tall frame. Black shirt tucked in, long sleeved. Black boots, all shined to where you could see your reflection, and a black hat. It matched your curly hair underneath to a t.

The girl that was with you had blond curly hair, piled high with a robins egg blue hat and feathers of the same color and white to match. Her dress was a summer dress, but fancy all the same. White with the robins egg blue in it, pansy’s dotting the material. Her parasol was a deeper blue with white fringe and her fan that was dangling from her wrist was white lace. Just a small one. Well, for not one to be around here, she certainly picked up our attire quickly.

She takes your hand, as you walk with her up the steps toward the opened door.

You stop where I am, just briefly to give me the once over, and like a dismissed child, you walk on.

That just didn’t set well with me. And I think you done it on purpose. No one dismisses me. No one.

I give you just a few moments to find my papa’s study, and I waltz in.

Papa is showing you the deed to the property, and the titles to the stables and barns.

Your little friend is in the red leather arm chair sipping on a drink.

“Moriah! Come in for a second please.” Well, I had been going to anyway, but it was nicer with an invite, surely.

I smile at my papa, and lower my eyes at you, and never acknowledge the one sitting.

“Why, yes Papa?”

He comes around from behind the desk to hug me like a proud parent.

“Colonal Drago Wade, this is my daughter, Moriah.” Finally. A name.

I curtsy as you take my hand and kiss it. “Pleased to meet you Colonal, I’m sure.”

I bat my eyes just a bit.

You grin again, seemingly flustered. “On the contrary, the pleasure is all mine.”

We hear someone clearing their throat. Oh. It’s her.

“Miss Moriah, may I introduce you to my sister, Gloria.” God, how I hope that relief that I felt in my soul didn’t show on my face, as I turned around to face her. I smiled really wide and extended my hand.

She cleared her throat once more, and gave me that chilly stare of hers. “My brother insisted on me coming with him. I would had rather stayed in the city, so much more to  do there you know. And I really do detest the country way of life.” She said, even sitting down, she was looking down at her nose at me.

“Well Miss Gloria, we have a lot to offer…to the right people that is.”

And I whipped back around to the stunned look of Papa.

“I do hope to see you soon Colonal? Maybe ma father can arrange a little get together to welcome you and your sista into our little fold here? You wouldn’t be offended if a couple hundred of Atlanta’s best show up for a ball arranged in your..and your sista’s honor would you now?” I smile as I watch your face turn red a little.

“Uh, no! Not at all. We would love to , be thrilled to, I mean, yes, thank you that would be really but don’t go out of your way or anything..”

“Not one little ol bit! Trust me! I just love doin this sorta thang..” I smile at him again, wink at papa and make myself gone.

Who was I kidding? I hated doing that sort of thing!