The Cotton Daughter

Chapter one

So...here's chapter one!

And just another reminder; my grammar may seem absolutely horrid but it's meant to be like that because of the dialect.

Thanks!

Comment/Vote please!

-Makayla Rayne

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Chapter One

I was sittin' in the parlor with Mommy, sewin' a sampler. It was nice and quiet in the parlor. Just Mommy and me, the near silent sound of thread being pulled by a needle, the occasional clink of china when we'd take a sip of tea and set the saucer and cup back on the tea table.

Mommy was pretty, but she look absolutely beautiful when she in her zen place. Her soft pale features which were sometimes etched with worry when Daddy talked 'bout things, was smooth and wrinkle-free. Her strawberry blond hair, pulled into pincurls by her favorite slave Delia, hung just right below her chin and it shone it the sunlight filterin' through the windows.

Her dark blue eyes seemed lighter even.

People always tell me I look like my Mommy.

'Course maybe that's 'cause my Daddy had salt-and-pepper black hair, dark tanned skin from lookin' over him crop rows, and puppy-dog brown eyes.

And I agreed that I looked like my Mommy. My hair was red gold, more gold than Mommy's. Normally girls cut their hair when they reach thirteen but I let mine grow out and stay long. I always liked my hair. It fell to the ends of my elbows, near to my waist in warm, heavy ringlets that shone even in the moonlight. My skin tanned easy but that be because Daddy's great-great-granddaddy was Native American. My skin held just that hint of heritage, a slight copper to it.

My eyes were gray blue, sometimes green if I look right at the sun and somehow don't go blind.

And it was as I look at the clock--twelve thirty--when Daddy came into the parlor none too quietly a hootin' and a hollerin'. "Hot damn!"

Mommy plastered a smile on her face. "What's the good news Nate?"

"Darlin' I got our daughter a husband!"

My hands froze, the needle poised to dive back through the material in my hands. I blinked, looking up at Daddy. His features were lit up. "I'm sorry Daddy, did you just say you find me a...husband?"

"Sure did little missy. Nice feller too, good an' strong."

"And who did you marry our daughter off to, Nate?" Mommy's voice held slight annoyance though you'd have to strain to hear it.

Daddy didn't seem to notice at least. "Everett Jackson."

"Everett Jackson..." I mumbled. "The next plantation over owner's boy?"

"The very one."

I didn't know what to feel. On the one hand, I knew I shouldn't have been too shocked 'bout it. Many girls in the south had to marry off for their Daddy's business interests. But on the other hand, I didn't want to marry nobody unless it be out of love. And that, I knew, was near ridiculous.

Everett was handsome, I suppose. I knew him since we were little from Sunday school and church. I even recalled seein' him once or twice at the market in town.

"When was this all decided Nate?"

"Today in town at the supply shop. Me an' John," he said, naming his slave, "were lookin' for replacements for some of the hoes and plows when I come 'cross ol' David Jackson. We started talkin' and such, then David mention how he lookin' to expand business relationships and him rows."

Me and Mommy looked at each other.

"And that's when we both come up with the idea. We just look at one another, and our faces lit up at once. I remembered how David had a son 'round Lizzie's age, Everett. He'd be gettin' the plantation after his daddy. So we talked 'bout it and decided our kids should marry!"

I stopped breathin'. "When must I...marry Everett?"

"Don't matter to me none. I say before the year be out."

I looked at my lap, resigning. "Alright Daddy. If it pleases."

"Sure as hell pleases girl! You'll be the next Missus of the Jackoson household! And won't be too far 'way from your ol' Daddy and Mommy."

I just nodded.

"Makes you feel any better darlin' David tell me Everett like you from day one a Sunday School."

"Thank you Daddy." I didn't bother sayin' it didn't help none makin' me feel no better. Well, I guess it did in part. 'Least I knew we wouldn't be hatin' each other none.

Ten minute later Delia came in with her head bowed, a white slip a paper in her hand. "Missus."

"Delia. What you got there?"

"A letter Missus. For the young Missus. From young Mr. Jackson."

Mommy smiled. "Let her read it then!"

Delia handed me the letter and I read to myself.

Dear Miss Elizabeth Waller,

News of our predetermined marriage has just come to myself. I trust your Daddy has told you as much; we are to be married byt he year's end.

While knowing you better than a stranger might, I can only imagine your aversion to this, how you would cringe at the thought of marrying a stranger.

But I don't want us to be no strangers. We've known each other since we were little at Sunday School, learning how God had a plan for us all.

Call me crazy but this might just be that plan. Now we could just base our marriage off of what we see of one another in church but I'd rather us not. We are, at the moment, courting in a sense.

Why not make the best of it, maybe even learn to love each other by the year's end? I've always liked you Eliza if it makes anything better. But I don't know for sure if you like me.

I therefore extend an invitation to a stroll this evening. We could take an escorted walk by the river's path with our parents. The soon-to-be-inlaws could talk as we get to know one another.

I ask of you to send word of acceptance or refusal as soon as you can. If you accept my offer, I'll come by in my family's carriage around six.

Sincerely,

Everett Jackson

"Well?" Mommy asked.

"Everett's invited us to take an escorted walk by the river's path."

"And your reply?"

"Is of acceptance I assure you Mommy. I wouldn't mess this up for you or Daddy." I rose and wrote a note of acceptance back. I handed the folded piece of paper with Everett's name on it and handed it to Delia. "If you would Delia?"

She smiled softly. "Yes young Missus."

I put a hand to her cheek. Delia raised me; she was like a second mother, or even a first. "Deely I told you time and time again to call me Eliza or Lizzie like everyone else do."

"Not in my place young Missus."

"I say it is therefore it is. Please Deely? You raise me, it only make sense."

"Yes...Lizzie." She smiled again, gathered her skirts, and set off for a three-mile walk to the Jackson's and a three-mile walk back. I felt affection for my mother as I remembered Mommy gave Delia a pair of her out-of-style shoes that were quite comfortable and durable.

I looked out the window of the parlor, at Delia's retreating figure and hoped Everett was right and this was God's plan, and that I'd be happy with him.