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Blues Along the River

By Sandra Robbins

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The whistle of the Alabama Maiden pierced the afternoon quiet. Victoria Turner stopped in her stroll along the deck of the steamboat and peered toward the riverbank to her right. Two boys, each holding a fishing pole, jumped up from the ground, grabbed the straw hats from their heads, and waved to the passing boat.

Victoria leaned against the railing and waved in return. The wake of the ship rippled across the surface of the Alabama River and washed across the boys’ bare feet on the shore. She turned to her mother, who had stopped beside her, and pointed toward the edge of the water. “Look, those boys are barefooted already, and it’s only the first of May. They must be looking forward to summer.”

Her mother laughed and waved to the boys. “The days are getting warmer. I always loved spring when I was growing up in central Alabama. This is the time of year when the farmers prepare their fields for planting. In fact, they may already have a lot of their cotton planted.”

Victoria cast one more glance at the boys and let her gaze wander up the bluff behind them. The thick green leaves on the trees rustled in the warm breeze that blew from the river. The memory of the tall oak tree in their backyard in Mobile flashed in her mind, and she blinked back tears. She wished she could be sitting under it right now.

The azalea bush outside the parlor window in their house would be in full bloom by now. Each spring since she was a young child, she’d watched every day to get a glimpse of the first blossom to appear. This year someone else would enjoy the deep pink flowers she loved. She’d be living above a general store on the main street of a small river town, miles from the only world she’d ever known.

“Oh look, there’s another one!” Her mother grabbed the steamship deck railing with one hand and pointed with the other to the top of the bluff and the white-columned plantation home that gleamed in the sunlight.

It was the third mansion they had seen on their journey upriver from Mobile to Willow Bend. Victoria’s breath caught in her throat at the sight. “It’s the most beautiful one yet,” she whispered.

Victoria had never seen anything like it. Six colonnades towered across the front of the two-story house, and a cupola with a walkway around it sat on the roof. She could imagine a large veranda with a table and comfortable chairs for relaxing and sipping cool drinks on the rear of the house.

Her mother stared in the direction of the house and nodded. “I remember going to a dinner there when your father and I came to visit my brother years ago. The man who owned it was a friend of his. I don’t remember his name though.”

“May I be of assistance to you ladies?”

Victoria glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Captain Mills, I didn’t hear you come up behind us.”

The white beard and mustache that covered the man’s face wiggled as his mouth curved into a friendly smile, which he directed toward her mother. “I hope I didn’t startle you, Mrs. Turner. I was coming along the deck and thought there might be some way I could be of help.”

Victoria covered her mouth with the handkerchief she held to hide her smile. Ever since they had boarded the Alabama Maiden in Mobile, Captain Mills had been very attentive to her mother. Although she insisted that he treated all his passengers the same, her mother appeared to be enjoying the man’s attention.

Victoria pointed to the plantation home on the bluff. “We were just admiring that beautiful house. Mama was a guest there once, but she’s forgotten the owner’s name.”

Captain Mills stood straight with his shoulders back and his hands clasped behind his back. He nodded toward the towering mansion. “That’s the big house of Pembrook Plantation.”

Victoria stared at the imposing structure. A door in the center of the second floor opened onto a balcony that ran the length of the front of the house. She couldn’t help but compare the mansion’s size with the small house she and her mother had shared in Mobile. Theirs would probably fit in one corner of the structure. “With its size, it’s no wonder they call it the big house.”

Captain Mills chuckled. “No matter how large or small, the planters have always referred to the main plantation home as the big house. It doesn’t have so much to do with size as it does the symbol of authority the house reflects.

Pembrook’s big house is indeed one of the most beautifulalong the river. The former owner’s name was Sebastian Raines. He died a few years ago, and now his son, Marcus, runs the plantation.”

Her mother nodded. “Oh yes, I remember now. Mr. Raines and his son, who was a small child at the time, lived there when my brother took us for a visit.” Her forehead wrinkled inthought. “That must have been at least twenty-five years ago.”

Victoria studied the mansion as the steamboat plowed on through the Alabama River waters and left the big house of Pembrook behind. She wondered what it would be like to live in a house like that. There had to be servants who catered to the residents’ needs. Not like the life she and her mother had lived in the year since her father’s death. They had barely scraped by on the money Victoria had earned working in the kitchen of a boardinghouse in Mobile.

She glanced down at her red hands and curled her fingers into her palms. She’d scrubbed more pots and pans in the last year than she could count, but at least she’d been in Mobile, where there were lots of people, not in a small river landing town like Willow Bend in the middle of Alabama’s Black Belt. There might be a lot of large plantations around, but her only hope of ever seeing the inside of one of those houses was if she ended up working in one of their kitchens.

“So you’re going to live with your brother in Willow Bend?” Captain Mills’s voice caught Victoria’s attention.

“We are,” her mother replied. “He lives above the general store he owns in Willow Bend. He has an extra bedroom that Victoria and I can share, and I’ll keep house for him. Victoria will help out in the store when she’s needed. I think we’re going to enjoy living in a small town after the hustle and bustle of Mobile.”

Victoria’s heart sank at her mother’s words. Her mother might look forward to life in Willow Bend, but Victoria couldn’t imagine anything more depressing. She’d lived in the city all her life, and there was nothing that would make her like the little river town. Her mother had told her she would probably meet some young women her own age at church. She didn’t want new friends. No one could take the place of Margaret and Clara, who had been her friends ever since she could remember. The three of them had shared childhood secrets, and for the past few years their main topic of conversation had been the men they would marry. Now she was miles away from the friends who seemed more like sisters, and she’d never felt more alone.

She closed her eyes and tried to banish the vision that had occupied her mind ever since her mother announced they were going to live with her uncle. The years would drift by with her working in the town’s general store, and before she knew it, she would be an old maid who no man would have an interest in marrying.

Captain Mills glanced in Victoria’s direction. “Tell me, Miss Turner, have you visited Willow Bend before?”

“Once when I was a child. I remember the landing where the paddle wheelers docked and the main street that ran along the river bluff. My uncle’s store faced the river, and there were a few more businesses. A livery stable, I think, but I don’t remember the others.”

Captain Mills laughed. “That’s about all that’s there now. The church and the school are on the outskirts of town.”

Victoria’s heart sank at the man’s words. She’d hoped that Willow Bend had grown since she’d last visited, but it hadn’t. She sighed. “It doesn’t sound like there’s much activity.”

“Oh, on the contrary. The congregation at the church has really grown in the last few years. I hear it’s because the people in the region have such respect for the pastor. His name is Daniel Luckett, and his wife’s name is Tave. She’s not much older than you, Miss Turner. She’ll take you under her wing and introduce you to all the young people in the community.”

For the first time since her journey to Willow Bend began, Victoria felt a sliver of hope. Maybe she would meet some people who could make her exile to Willow Bend more tolerable.

She glanced back downriver, but Pembrook’s big house had disappeared from view. With a sigh, she pushed away from the railing. “How long before we dock?”

“About thirty minutes.” Captain Mills turned back to her mother, and his gaze raked her face. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your trip upriver with us, Mrs. Turner. I’ll have one of the deck hands take your luggage to your brother’s store when we arrive. In the meantime, if you need anything, please let me know.”

Her mother’s face flushed. “Thank you, Captain Mills. You’ve been very attentive to our needs, and we appreciate it.”

He bowed slightly, turned, and strode down the deck.

Victoria watched him go before she looped her arm through her mother’s and guided her back toward their cabin. “I think you’ve got an admirer, Mama, and I have to say I really like him.”

Her mother waved a hand in dismissal. “Captain Mills is just being helpful. We’ll probably never see him again after we leave the ship.”

At their cabin door, Victoria glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the captain staring at them from the far end of the deck. When he saw her look at him, he whirled and disappeared around the end of the walkway to the other side of the ship. With a chuckle Victoria shook her head. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Her mother opened the door to the cabin and turned to direct a stern glare in Victoria’s direction. “Quit teasing and come make sure you have everything in the trunk before we close it. We’ll be landing at our new home in a few minutes.”

Victoria paused in the doorway and winced. “Home? I doubt if I’ll ever feel that way about Willow Bend.”

Her mother’s shoulders slumped as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Victoria, you know there was nothing else we could do. The small amount of money you made at that boardinghouse didn’t start to cover our living expenses. We’ve used up everything your father left. We’re fortunate my brother is willing to help us.”

Victoria fought back the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. “I understand, and I promised I would make the best of the situation for your sake. But I want more out of life than being an unmarried woman living with my mother and uncle over the store where I work.”

Her mother held out her hand. Victoria grasped it and sat beside her. “You’re young, and it’s natural you should worry about what life has in store for you. I was the same way when I was your age, but things worked out for me. I met your father, and one of these days you’re going to meet a nice young man, too.”

Victoria gave a snort of disgust. “In a little river town in the middle of Alabama? I doubt it.”

Her mother smiled. “You never can tell what the future holds.”
The boat’s whistle rumbled, and Victoria pushed up from the bed. “We’re almost there. We’d better get the trunk ready.” She glanced at her mother, who still sat on the bed. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’m thankful that Uncle Samuel is willing to offer us a place to live, and I’ve come with you. I’ve told you from the beginning, though, that I don’t expect to be there long.”

Her mother shook her head. “Ever since you were a child, you’ve been so impulsive. Be careful, darling. The things that look so good on the outside can sometimes contain the biggest flaws on the inside.”

Victoria stared at her mother for a moment before she stepped to the trunk to prepare for her arrival in Willow Bend.
* * *
Marcus Raines hopped down from the seat of the wagon the minute James Moses pulled the horses to a stop in front of Perkins General Store. He pulled the straw hat from his head and wiped at the perspiration on his forehead. The last month had been hotter than usual for this time of year, but that had been good. It had given him the time needed to get the fields ready for spring planting and some of the cotton in the ground. If his new purchases arrived on today’s boat, the tenant farmers at Pembrook ought to have the entire cotton crop planted by the end of next week.

He squinted up at the young man who still sat on the wagon seat, the reins in his hands. James kept his gaze directed toward his feet and didn’t move to wipe at the sweat that covered his chocolate-colored skin. Neither of them had spoken on the drive into town, and Marcus wondered what the young man, the son of one of his tenant farmers, was thinking. His facial expression gave no hint of what went on behind James’s dark eyes, which never focused on Marcus.

But then, Marcus had no idea what any of the tenant farmers thought. The ones who’d been slaves before the war regarded him as if he was the enemy at times, and others appeared to tolerate him as the owner of the land they farmed. He wished he had a relationship with his tenant farmers like the one Dante Rinaldi had at Cottonwood, but didn’t know how to go about getting it.

Ever since his father’s death, Marcus had tried to get his tenant farmers to treat him the same way they had his father, but it was no use. His father had ruled Pembrook with an iron hand, and he knew how to deal with the men who farmed his land. None of them ever approached his father unless they held their hat in their hand and spoke with respect. For some reason, he hadn’t been able to teach Marcus the secret to wielding power on the large plantation.

Marcus had agonized over the problem for many sleepless nights, but a solution hadn’t presented itself yet. Perhaps he was the one at fault, for he had never learned the art of conversation. As a child, he’d lived in isolation on the plantation with his father and had only known the tutors hisfather had hired to educate him. He’d never had a friend, and no woman had ever given him more than a passing glance. How he wished he could laugh and talk with his neighbors like Dante did, but he never felt as if he had anything worthwhile to add to the conversation.

With a sigh, Marcus walked away from the wagon and headed toward the landing where the paddle wheelers docked on their way up and down the river. The whistle of the Alabama Maiden pierced the air, and he smiled. He turned and called out to James. “The boat’s coming around the bend. Go on down to the landing and be ready to help unload those cotton planters I ordered.”

Without speaking, James set the wagon brake and climbed down. After tying the reins to a hitching post, he walked down the bluff to the landing. Behind him, Marcus heard footsteps as Willow Bend hurried to the landing intent on seeing the big ship dock at their little town. Fewer steamboats plowed the river now than when Marcus was a boy. Soon, he suspected, the railroad, with its faster means of transportation, would spell the doom of the beautiful ships he’d watched from the bluff in front of his home all his life.

“Good afternoon, Marcus. Are you meeting someone on the boat?”

Marcus turned at the sound of a man’s voice beside him. Samuel Perkins, the owner of the general store, peered at him over the rims of the spectacles that rested on the bridge of his nose. Marcus shook his head. “No. I’m expecting some cotton planters that I ordered from Mobile.”

Mr. Perkins shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. “Dante Rinaldi was in the store the other day. He said he bought some last year. Are yours like the ones he has?”

Marcus nodded. “They are. My father never would buy any. He said he liked to see men in the fields planting. But from what Dante says, a man using one of those plow-type cotton planters can plant eight acres of cotton in a day. Planting that much by hand takes at least ten to fifteen men.”

Mr. Perkins cocked an eyebrow and stared at Marcus. “Your pa didn’t like change. Wanted everything to stay the way it was. I’m glad to see you’re trying to farm more efficiently. You listen to Dante. When he bought Cottonwood after the war, nobody around here thought he’d make it profitable again, but he did. Now it grows some of the best cotton and corn in Alabama. You’re gonna do the same with Pembrook.”

Marcus’s face flushed. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, it sounds to me like. . .” Mr. Perkins paused and pointed to the big ship that glided around the bend. “There she is. I guess they finally made it.”

“They?” Marcus turned a questioning glance toward the man.

Mr. Perkins laughed. “Haven’t you heard? I’m gaining two new family members today. My sister’s husband died a year ago, and she and her daughter are arriving from Mobile to live with me. They’ve had a hard time since my brother-inlaw’s death.”

Marcus hoped his face conveyed a sympathetic look as he turned to stare at the ship that eased up to the landing at the base of the bluff. He caught sight of James, who stood talking to Henry Walton, one of the tenant farmers from Cottonwood. Henry laughed at something James said andslapped him on the back.

Henry was one of the few white tenant farmers in the area, but he was accepted by all the others, some of whom had been former slaves. Marcus wondered about Henry’s secret to having a good relationship with all the other farmers. Maybe sometime he’d get up his courage and ask the man.

“There they are!” Mr. Perkins’s excited voice cut through Marcus’s thoughts.

He glanced in the direction the store owner pointed and spotted two women standing at the railing of the deck. He knew there were two women because Mr. Perkins said so, but the vision of only one penetrated his mind.

She wore a blue traveling dress with a jacket that reached below her knees and a hat made of the same material as the coat. The ribbons dangling from the hat had been tied between her throat and ear on the left side of her face, and the jaunty bow rippled in the breeze. Dark hair stuck outfrom under the hat, and she stood on deck like a queen. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

“Wh–what is your niece’s name?” Marcus frowned at the stammer in his voice.

“Victoria. Victoria Turner.” Mr. Perkins turned to him. “That’s my sister, Ellen, beside her. I’ll introduce you to them when they come ashore.”

Marcus glanced at Mr. Perkins’s sister before he let his gaze settle once again on the niece. Victoria. The name sent a tingle of pleasure through him. It sounded like it might belong to an angel.

As he watched, Victoria waved, and Marcus raised his hand to respond until he realized the greeting was for her uncle, not for him. Embarrassed and fearful someone had witnessed his blunder, he glanced around. No one appeared to be paying any attention to him.

The crew on the ship lowered the gangplank, and the passengers began to come ashore. He didn’t move as he watched her follow her mother onto the bank and hurry up the bluff toward her uncle. When she reached Mr. Perkins, she waited while her mother and uncle embraced before she stepped forward and gave her uncle a quick hug.

“Uncle Samuel, it’s so good to see you.” The lilting drawl of her words made his pulse race.

Mr. Perkins pointed to him. “Ellen, Victoria, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Marcus Raines of Pembrook Plantation. Mr. Raines, my sister and niece.”

Marcus pulled off his hat and held it in front of him. “Mrs. Turner, your brother told me that you were coming here to live. I hope you enjoy Willow Bend.”

She nodded. “I’m sure we will, Mr. Raines.” She glanced at her daughter. “This is Victoria. I’m afraid she’s not as happy as I am about our move to this small town.”

Dark eyes bored into his soul when he turned back to the young woman. He swallowed and tried to speak. “Miss Turner, I’m sure you’ll like living here. There are many young women who’ll help make you feel at home.”

She smiled, and his heart flipped. “Thank you, Mr. Raines. So you’re the owner of Pembrook? We saw your house from the boat. Mama says she was a guest there years ago.”

His eyes widened. “Is that right? Well, you must come again.”

Victoria stepped closer to him. “Mama and I would love to meet your wife.”

His face grew warm, and he gave a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible since I’m not married. But I’d still like for you to visit my home.”
A smile curled her lips, and she tilted her head to one side. “We would be delighted.”

At that moment, he caught sight of James and several deck hands bringing his cotton planters up the bluff. He backed away and put the hat back on his head. “I’m afraid I have to be going now. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Turner. And you, too, Miss Turner.”

He started to turn and head up the bluff, but she called out to him. “Captain Mills told us about the church and the pastor and his wife. Mama and I will be attending on Sunday. Maybe we’ll see you there also.”

Marcus stopped, uncertain what to say. His father hadn’t been a believer and had never seen the need to take his son to church. Marcus had never been to the Willow Bend Church and had no idea what went on inside the building. A sudden thought struck him—he wanted to be there if Victoria Turner would be in the congregation.

He smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

The look of surprise on Mr. Perkins’s face sent guilt flowing through him. Who was he trying to fool? He hadn’t been brought up to be a churchgoer, and he had no desire to become one now.

A lot of pretty women lived along the river of west central Alabama, and he’d never given a thought to any of them. How could a woman he’d barely spoken with make him want to attend church when he’d never wanted to before?

He shook his head and hurried toward the wagon where James waited. Before he climbed in, he glanced over his shoulder. Victoria, her hand in the crook of her uncle’s arm, glided across the street toward the store. She glanced in his direction, smiled, and gave a slight nod.

Marcus tipped his hat and climbed into the wagon. He didn’t know what had happened to him today, but he did know one thing. There was no need to waste his time thinking about Victoria Turner. Their brief meeting at the dock would probably be the only conversation they’d ever have.

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