a chance on a better life.”
“Let’s think about it,” he said, pulling her down beside him again.
Frustrated, she bit back her protests and let him hold her. Their moments together were too few to waste in argument.
Upon the Grants’ return to their rented home in St. Louis, Jule missed Gabriel terribly, though she supposed she should have grown accustomed to his absence long ago, so often had they been forced to live apart. In their reduced circumstances, Julia paid few calls and attended even fewer parties, so Jule spent more time caring for the children than tending to her mistress’s hair and dress. Almost every night after Jule put her young charges to bed, she overheard Julia and her husband discussing their prospects in hushed voices, their words often inaudible, but their tension and worry evident. The partnership of Boggs and Grant had dissolved, and stray glances at papers left on desktops told Jule that Mr. Grant was writing letters to apparently almost every gentleman of his acquaintance, hoping someone would recommend him for a position.
One morning, Julia was quiet and pensive as Jule dressed her for another worrisome day. “I had the strangest dream last night,” she said, her voice subdued. “Mr. Grant was working in his father’s tannery, cleaning rawhides by scraping off the flesh with a long, curved, double-handed knife. He was smiling, talking with his father, and making jokes with his brothers, thoroughly content.”
“I thought you said he hated his father’s trade,” said Jule. “He swore he’d never work in the tannery.”
“He did. That’s what makes the dream so bewildering.” Julia sat motionless as Jule brushed out her long, dark hair, as smooth and glossy as mink thanks to Jule’s concoctions. “He was not only satisfied with the work, but proud and happy.”
Jule wound Julia’s hair into a smooth chignon. Jule had her own opinion about the significance of the dream, but she asked, “What do you think it means?”
“That he should go to Kentucky and see his father.”
“What does Mr. Grant think?”
A flush of embarrassment crept into Julia’s fair cheeks. “I haven’t told him about the dream yet. His father’s offers of help always come with conditions, and some of them—some of them I couldn’t bear.”
Jule fastened the chignon in place with a mother-of-pearl comb. “I don’t think any good would come of ignoring a prophecy dream.”
“No, neither do I.” Julia sighed, resigned. “I suppose I must tell him.”
She did so, as Jule knew she would. Later that afternoon, Julia instructed Jule to pack Mr. Grant’s satchel for a week’s journey. He would set out for Covington on the first steamer of the morning.
Mr. Grant’s first letter home arrived within a week, and a second, more earnest dispatch quickly followed. “Ulys’s father has offered him a position in the family business,” Julia said softly, as if thinking aloud.
“Tanning hides?” asked Jule, astonished.
“No, not that.” Julia turned her head this way and that, trying to focus on the page, which trembled in her hand. “It’s a job at their retail store in Galena, in northern Illinois.” She fell silent, reading. “This time there are no conditions, no demands that he leave me and the children behind.”
Jule understood the great significance of the offer: Mr. Grant would have work and the family could stay together, as long as Julia agreed to leave her beloved Southern home and follow her husband again into the North.
That was what the opportunity meant for the Grants. Jule dreaded to learn what it meant for her.
PART TWO
Honor
Chapter Six
M AY 1860–A PRIL 1861
Y ou couldn’t possibly send our faithful servants to live with strangers,” Julia protested when Papa told her about the advertisement he had placed in the St. Louis papers.
“You can’t take them with you,” said Papa, annoyed. “Not into northern Illinois. They’ll run away.”
“My
“Let’s think about it,” he said, pulling her down beside him again.
Frustrated, she bit back her protests and let him hold her. Their moments together were too few to waste in argument.
Upon the Grants’ return to their rented home in St. Louis, Jule missed Gabriel terribly, though she supposed she should have grown accustomed to his absence long ago, so often had they been forced to live apart. In their reduced circumstances, Julia paid few calls and attended even fewer parties, so Jule spent more time caring for the children than tending to her mistress’s hair and dress. Almost every night after Jule put her young charges to bed, she overheard Julia and her husband discussing their prospects in hushed voices, their words often inaudible, but their tension and worry evident. The partnership of Boggs and Grant had dissolved, and stray glances at papers left on desktops told Jule that Mr. Grant was writing letters to apparently almost every gentleman of his acquaintance, hoping someone would recommend him for a position.
One morning, Julia was quiet and pensive as Jule dressed her for another worrisome day. “I had the strangest dream last night,” she said, her voice subdued. “Mr. Grant was working in his father’s tannery, cleaning rawhides by scraping off the flesh with a long, curved, double-handed knife. He was smiling, talking with his father, and making jokes with his brothers, thoroughly content.”
“I thought you said he hated his father’s trade,” said Jule. “He swore he’d never work in the tannery.”
“He did. That’s what makes the dream so bewildering.” Julia sat motionless as Jule brushed out her long, dark hair, as smooth and glossy as mink thanks to Jule’s concoctions. “He was not only satisfied with the work, but proud and happy.”
Jule wound Julia’s hair into a smooth chignon. Jule had her own opinion about the significance of the dream, but she asked, “What do you think it means?”
“That he should go to Kentucky and see his father.”
“What does Mr. Grant think?”
A flush of embarrassment crept into Julia’s fair cheeks. “I haven’t told him about the dream yet. His father’s offers of help always come with conditions, and some of them—some of them I couldn’t bear.”
Jule fastened the chignon in place with a mother-of-pearl comb. “I don’t think any good would come of ignoring a prophecy dream.”
“No, neither do I.” Julia sighed, resigned. “I suppose I must tell him.”
She did so, as Jule knew she would. Later that afternoon, Julia instructed Jule to pack Mr. Grant’s satchel for a week’s journey. He would set out for Covington on the first steamer of the morning.
Mr. Grant’s first letter home arrived within a week, and a second, more earnest dispatch quickly followed. “Ulys’s father has offered him a position in the family business,” Julia said softly, as if thinking aloud.
“Tanning hides?” asked Jule, astonished.
“No, not that.” Julia turned her head this way and that, trying to focus on the page, which trembled in her hand. “It’s a job at their retail store in Galena, in northern Illinois.” She fell silent, reading. “This time there are no conditions, no demands that he leave me and the children behind.”
Jule understood the great significance of the offer: Mr. Grant would have work and the family could stay together, as long as Julia agreed to leave her beloved Southern home and follow her husband again into the North.
That was what the opportunity meant for the Grants. Jule dreaded to learn what it meant for her.
PART TWO
Honor
Chapter Six
M AY 1860–A PRIL 1861
Y ou couldn’t possibly send our faithful servants to live with strangers,” Julia protested when Papa told her about the advertisement he had placed in the St. Louis papers.
“You can’t take them with you,” said Papa, annoyed. “Not into northern Illinois. They’ll run away.”
“My
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