Heir of Hope: Return to Ironwood Plantation (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 2) by McGee Stephenia H

Author:McGee, Stephenia H. [McGee, Stephenia H.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Overcoming past abuse, Plantation mansion, Women’s issues, Historical elements, Clean romance, Contemporary Christian, Redemptive healing
ISBN: 9780997866087
Publisher: By The Vine Press
Published: 2015-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

August 16, 1862

The days are unbearably hot. I have been busy with my work about Ironwood and the house is finally getting organized. Charles says he likes all of my personal touches and that he can see my love growing for his family home.

Indeed, my love has grown for Ironwood, but it has grown even more for Charles. I never knew I was capable of such love. I feared I would be broken forever, but I feel as if I have been though the smelting fire, and have come out a new creation. Every day my peace grows and my heart is overflowing. I cannot even find the words to convey the thankfulness I feel for this new life.

Last night he came to me, and I must say, I am rather surprised at the depths of desire I have come to feel for him. Should I even write such a thing? Heavens, what would Mother think? She would probably proclaim the pleasure I have come to find in my duty to my husband a sinful thing.

Armed with a new confidence in myself and safe in both my God’s and my husband’s love, I find I am willing to be bolder. Such as deciding to disregard the proper order of things and visiting my friend in her home, on her terms. Needless to say I caused quite a stir.

I stepped outside into the cool of the night and walked down the short sidewalk to the kitchen. I gathered my skirts and teetered on the narrow staircase leading to the quarters above. The lingering heat from the kitchen seemed to pour through the outer wall. I put one hand on the red bricks to brace myself and gripped the railing with the other. After reminding myself the repair would have to go on my list, I continued to the quarters above.

At the top of the stairs, soft light filtered between the planks of the doors carrying with it the sweet sounds of conversation and laughter. I lifted my hand to knock, but hesitated. Perhaps things were the way they were for a reason. They may not want me in their private space, their only refuge from the demands of everyday life.

Well, things could change. The Bible said there’s neither slave nor free, male nor female in the eyes of Christ. We were all his children. An interesting verse I had yet to hear from the pulpit. Filled with new hope, I tapped on the door.

It swung open an instant later, revealing Lucy with an amusing expression of shock.

“Good evening, Lucy.”

Lucy looked dumbfounded and it took me quite some time to convince her I had only come to see Ruth. I wonder why Lucy seems so opposed to such a thing? Regardless, after assuring her my husband did, indeed, know of my whereabouts and trying to convince her my motives were nothing more than an attempt at female companionship, she finally relented.

Ruth looked at me with a solemn expression. “You know people’s goin’ to talk.

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