The Mandie Collection (11 page)

Joe and Polly, standing nearby, looked at each other and Polly said, “Well, my mother is coming home today. So that eliminates one more guest from this house.”

Joe scratched his head. “Don't know when Dad will come back for me, but it should be sometime this week.”

John Shaw turned to them and said, “Well, let's not everybody leave at once! I thought we could have a little party when the company arrives from Asheville.”

The three young people grinned at each other.
A party? What fun!
Mandie had not the faintest idea as to the importance of the party or the people who would be visiting. She merely knew it would be her very first
real
party.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE TRUTH REVEALED

The return of John Shaw was truly a happy event in the household. Every piece of furniture in the house was polished, silverware was cleaned, the best linens laid out for use, and two guest rooms readied for the two mysterious visitors who were coming from Asheville.

Mandie moved back to her room on the second floor. Joe also moved his things down to a room on the same floor. Everyone was excited, but no one could find out the names of the expected guests and John Shaw remained secretive about the whole thing.

Polly's mother returned and Polly moved back home, but came to visit Mandie every day. Joe received a note from his father saying there was a sudden outbreak of fever and he was needed so badly he couldn't come for him until things were under control.

Early one bright, sunshiny morning John Shaw drew Mandie off into the parlor.

“Today is the day the company's coming. Now, I want you to put on your loveliest dress and brush your hair until it shines—that is, if it will shine any more than it does already.”

“Oh, Uncle John, I'm
so
excited! I don't even know these people, but I'll do my best to look and act like a lady,” she promised him.

“That's all I ask, and I know you will.” The old man smiled and her heart melted as the memory of her father's smile flooded back to her.

Mandie hurried off to her room and enlisted the aid of Liza to button her up in the newest dress that had been made for her. It was made of snow-white muslin covered with sprigs of bluebells that matched her blue eyes. Liza combed out her long blonde hair and let it hang loose in ringlets.

“Miss Amanda, you are really and truly beautiful today,” Liza said, admiring the finished product.

Mandie laughed nervously. “Why do you say that, Liza, because you made me that way with all your fussing?”

“Nope, you just got that natural bloom today. Wouldn't doubt but that Joe boy tries to put some sugar on them lips if he catches you by yourself,” Liza teased her.

Mandie blushed. “Oh, Liza, quit that silly talk. You know Joe has been my friend all my life. But, he's
not
my boyfriend.”

“No, he ain't no boyfriend yet, but I can tell he'd
like
to be,” Liza answered solemnly. “One of these days you'll know.”

“Do you really think so, Liza?” Mandie turned to stare at the black girl.

“Sho as I'm astandin' here.” Liza crossed her arms over her bosom. “You wait and see. And 'member I told you so.”

Mandie's cheeks were still rosy. “Liza, do you think Uncle John will approve of the way I look?”

“ 'Course he will. Now, you'd best be gittin' on down there to the parlor and act like a lady. Company comin' any minute now.” Liza hurried her down the steps to the parlor where Uncle John was waiting.

“Where's Joe? Isn't he dressed yet?” Mandie looked around.

“First of all, my dear niece, you are absolutely lovely,” her uncle told her. “As for Joe, I sent him on an errand. He won't be back for a while.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. She had been counting on Joe's support at her side to meet these important strangers who were coming to visit.

At that moment, there was the sound of creaking wagon wheels and horses stopping out front, and John Shaw turned quickly to her.
“Supposing you wait right here, my dear. I'll meet the company at the door and bring them in to meet you shortly.”

“Yes, sir, Uncle John,” she agreed and he quickly left the room.

Mandie could hear women's voices at the door, one sounded older and one quite young; there was also the soft speech of a black woman, and Aunt Lou was directing them inside with the baggage.

“John Shaw, you could give a person more time to get things together for such a trip,” the younger voice was teasingly greeting Mandie's uncle.

“My, yes, you'd think someone was dying, instead of it being a party we are coming to,” agreed the older woman.

“Well, I think you'll find the party well worth your sudden trip. Come on in here to the parlor. I want you to meet my other guest,” John Shaw was saying.

“Really, John, we should freshen up a bit first,” the younger woman was hesitating.

“Nonsense, you never looked lovelier. Come on,” he insisted.

John Shaw appeared at the doorway to the parlor, accompanied by the most beautiful young woman Mandie had ever seen. She was dressed in rich silks, with diamonds sparkling on her fingers, and the scent of perfume came with her into the room. She had piles of shining golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a complexion that looked as though it had never been exposed to the sun's rays.

Mandie could hardly take her eyes off the younger woman, but snatched a look at the heavy-set, bustling matron, also dressed in the finest and most fashionable clothes Mandie had ever seen.

John Shaw hesitated. “Amanda, this is Elizabeth—you read about her in my letter to your father that night—”

The young girl was overwhelmed. So, this was the woman who had loved her father. She rushed forward to take her dainty hand. Elizabeth kept staring at Mandie and the older woman caught her breath and stood as if frozen to the spot.

Elizabeth was quite flustered as she turned to John Shaw. “John, who is this girl?”

John Shaw put one arm around Elizabeth and the other around Mandie.

“Elizabeth, this is your daughter, Amanda Elizabeth—”

The young woman trembled violently and John led her to a sofa to sit down, while Mandie, not quite comprehending the situation, trailed along, still holding onto her hand.

“Sorry it had to be such a shock, but I only found out the truth myself just a few months ago,” John told her.

The older woman had finally found her voice. “John Shaw, just what kind of trick are you playing?”

“It's no trick, Mrs. Taft. You, of all people, know that. You knew that Elizabeth's baby didn't—”

John was interrupted by Mandie's urgent tugging at his coat. “Uncle John, what—who—”

Elizabeth and Mandie were staring at each other, speechless.

“John, it can't be. You know my baby died,” Elizabeth kept repeating. Then she turned to Mandie, “Do you know your birth-date, child?”

“Oh, yes, I was born June 6, 1888,” Mandie managed to say.

“Your baby did not die, Elizabeth. This is your baby—grown to a full twelve years old, never knowing who her real mother was,” John was telling the young woman.

“John Shaw, you are only making trouble, you know that,” Mrs. Taft was warning him as she sank into a deep chair.

“Uncle John, please—” Mandie begged.

“Yes, my child, this is your real mother, and this dear woman is your real grandmother,” John finally turned to Mandie.

“It is quite a long story. Your mother, Elizabeth Taft, ran away and married your father thirteen years ago, but her parents opposed the marriage because your father was half Indian. Your father had lived here with me before that. Elizabeth's parents managed to have the marriage annulled and moved to Asheville to get away from your father's influence. Then, they discovered Elizabeth to be expecting
a child. So, they sent her to an aunt's house in Madison County where you were born. They told your mother you died at birth, and persuaded your father to take you, telling him that Elizabeth had agreed she had made a mistake and didn't even want to see you. Then Jim pulled up stakes—”

“Oh, no, no! It must be a lie! To think my own mother and father could have done such a thing to me!” Elizabeth sobbed.

“Jim took you, Amanda, off to Swain County and had the misfortune of meeting Etta McHan, a widow with a daughter, who immediately latched onto him and got him to the altar. He never came to Franklin again, that I know of. You see, he and I were both in love with Elizabeth and he figured I had a hand in breaking up his marriage, but, so help me God, I never even knew you existed until a few months ago,” John Shaw continued.

“That, that—woman—in my father's house—is not my real mother?” Mandie could hardly believe it.

“That's right. Not one whit kin to you, nor is her daughter. And I have Uncle Ned to thank for informing me of your father's death and of your existence. And, Amanda, he did get my letter about Elizabeth before he passed on and after I put two and two together, he wrote me about you.”

“Then, you actually didn't know about me, Uncle John?”

“No, not until just before your father passed away. You see, Jim never came back to the house here. He just went off without ever seeing me and I had no idea he had taken a baby with him. I also fell for the lie about your death,” her uncle said.

“Honor thy mother,” Mandie was mumbling to herself.

Elizabeth, trying to recover from the shock, suddenly stretched out her arms to Mandie. “I've always had a strange feeling—Come to me, my—my daughter!” Mandie rushed into her arms and their tears mingled, as Mandie babbled incoherently, “Oh, Mother, Mother, my very own
real
mother! I'm so, so glad! I'm so happy! Thank you, dear God! Thank you, dear God!”

John Shaw turned to Mrs. Taft who was silently wiping tears from her chubby cheeks. “I'm sorry I had to do that but, but I had
to. Let's leave them be, now. Come on, I'll show you to your room where you can be comfortable.” He offered his arm and without a word the old lady rose and left the room with him.

“Let me look at my beautiful daughter!” Elizabeth held Mandie at arm's length. “And all those years I've missed being with you. Oh, my baby!” She held Mandie close. “I won't miss another minute away from you. You can be sure of that, my darling. And your father, Amanda—I loved him so much.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “It's too late now for that, but it's not too late to claim my own daughter.”

“My father never loved that—that woman. I'm sure of that,” Mandie told her. “She never loved him either. Oh,
why
didn't my father tell me who my own mother was?”

“Don't blame him, my child. If anyone is to blame, it's myself. I shouldn't have given him up so easily,” Elizabeth told her as she stroked the girl's soft, blonde curls. “And believe me, I will never give you up.”

“Oh, Mother!” Mandie cried.

“And you know—we have the same name. Your father named you Amanda Elizabeth, which is my own name. That proves he loved me, doesn't it?”

“Yes, yes, 1know he must have loved you, Mother, because he never loved anyone else.”

Upon learning who the visitors were, Joe was overwhelmed and Polly could only stare at the beautiful young woman. And Mandie would not let her mother out of her sight, and was reluctant to go to bed that night, even though she would be close by.

Mandie knelt by her bed that night and thanked God. “Oh, God, you are so good to me! I know now that you do love me. All the trials and troubles I had to go through were necessary to bring back my own real mother. Please forgive me for ever doubting that you loved me. I should have remembered—
‘The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want!'
”

And while Amanda tossed and turned in her bed, too excited to go to sleep, John Shaw and Elizabeth Taft were alone in the parlor. Mrs. Taft had retired early, complaining of being tired from her journey, but, actually, glad to get away from the two who had stirred up the secret past.

It had started to rain after supper, and John lit the fire in the parlor to keep out the sudden, damp chill that so often came in the mountains. He and Elizabeth were sitting on a low sofa in front of the fireplace, silently watching the flames jump and sing as they raced up the chimney. Neither had spoken a word after bidding Mandie and Mrs. Taft good night.

Finally, John leaned closer, covering her small white hand with his larger rough one. “Elizabeth—”

“Yes, John—” Elizabeth breathed softly, placing her other hand on top of his.

“It's—it's been a long time—” John faltered.

“Too long, John. And even now, Mother didn't want to come to your house. I threatened to make the trip by myself and then she gave in. I really believe she was afraid to face you after all these years,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, I imagine she must have realized that somehow your trip here concerned Jim.”

“Yes, an old friend of thirteen years ago doesn't just suddenly invite you to ‘a most important occasion' at his house without good reason, and what good reason it was, John!” She smiled at him as tears of happiness filled her eyes.

“Elizabeth, I wish I had known the truth years ago. Even though I was in love with you, I would have done anything I could to get you and Jim back together.”

“John, I can never thank you enough for giving me back my daughter,” she said, squeezing his hand between hers.

John turned to her, “Then, Elizabeth, would you consider sharing her with me, now that—”

“Oh, John, no, don't say that. 1don't want to hurt you, but you know how much I loved Jim. I've never looked at another man.”

“I know that, Elizabeth. But he was my brother and he is no longer with us. I would be willing to take a chance because I love you so much.”