Love and War: The Coltrane Saga, Book 1 Read Online Free Page B

court you. Think how wonderful that would be! Oh, I hope you didn’t scare him off by letting him see you wallowing beneath that cow in all that blood and straw and dirt.”
    She was like a delighted child, Kitty thought, watching her pat her hands together gleefully.
    “Maybe you didn’t run him off, after all. He did ask you to go to the party with him after he saw you with that old cow. You’ll just have to put your best foot forward at that party and make him glad he invited you, let him know you appreciate the chance to show him you aren’t some white trash farmhand.”
    “I have to talk to Poppa first.”
    “What do you want to talk to him about?” Her eyes widened with surprise. “I should think you would realize by now that you’ve spent far too much time talking and listening to him instead of me. What does he have to do with any of this?”
    Kitty realized she could not tell the complete truth, because if her father did object once he knew who the party was being given for, and she decided not to go, then it would only make her mother angry, and she would place the blame on John. No, she thought, it’s best to leave out the name of the guest of honor.
    “I don’t have a dress to wear to a party.”
    “Is that all that’s bothering you?” Lena leaped to her feet, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the bedroom. “There’s something in my trunk that I’ve saved all these years, if the moths haven’t ruined it. A few repairs will put it in good shape, though.”
    Lena dropped her hand once they were inside the bedroom, then she hurried to a far corner where, beneath a pile of homemade quilts, the trunk was concealed. She fumbled with the top, and it finally opened with a reluctant squeak.
    Lena knelt on the floor as she began puffing items from the trunk, lovingly fondling each item. “This was my hope chest. My mother and my grandmother helped me with it. I had fine linens and quilts and tapestries, and they never knew I would never need these things on a poor dirt farm.” There was sadness mixed with bitterness in her tone.
    Feeling the need to defend her father, Kitty spoke up quickly. “You loved him when you married him, didn’t you, Mother? He’s done his best…”
    “That’s what he’d have you to believe,” Lena scoffed, frowning. She smoothed out a piece of delicate tatted lace. “We could’ve had a rich plantation if he’d bought more slaves, and bred them, and raised them to be a powerful workforce like Aaron Collins had the good sense to do. But no, he felt it was good enough as long as he could feed his family. ‘Fine things and rich living isn’t important enough to beat a man over’ he’d say. Well, you see what it got him, don’t you? Smell the fish cooking? Fish stew every night for a week now. I imagine the food is much better over at the Collins plantation.”
    When she was like this, there was no reasoning with her, Kitty thought. It would be wasted breath to try and convince her that John Wright had done the best he could for his family, without going against the principles of life he believed in.
    “Ahhh, here it is,” Lena pulled out a faded red velvet gown, smoothing out the tiny rows of bows and lace that were crushed and wrinkled. “We can pound it smooth with the pressing stone, and it will do just fine.”
    Trying to hide her disappointment, Kitty moved forward for a closer look at the gown. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. It was too large, though, because she was a lot smaller than her mother had been even years ago. The velvet was hopelessly flat and crushed. There was nothing to do, she decided, but admit that the dress was all wrong. “Maybe we can make something from the petticoats.” She lifted the skirt and looked at the red taffeta underslips hopefully.
    “You can’t make a ball gown out of petticoats, child,” came Lena’s shocked reaction. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”
    “I can if I want to go badly enough. Maybe I can