their way across the muddied street, clacking, giggling and fussing over their skirts. They stepped into the cafe with a dazzling burst of pale color and spent at least three minutes trying to decide where they ought to sit in the nearly deserted place, drawing but brief attention from the newspaper Ram read.
Ram took no more notice of them, though each of the three young ladies was of the age where she noticed him. They fell into hushed whispers, bursts of giggles and blushes, quick sideways glances at his table. Ambrosia went so far as to drop a pretty pink lace handkerchief, one that matched perfectly her cotton day dress. The prompt serving woman quickly picked it up, shook it, and folded it neatly in front of the girl with a smile.
"Well, this is a first," Ambrosia assured her two friends.
"Oh my!" Katie cried happily, "Look, it's Joy! Yoo-hoo, darling!" She waved, jumping up. "Joy Claret!"
The name instantly solicited Ram's attention, and he looked up and over the street, held by the unexpectedness of it. She looked both lovely and magnificent; he knew no other way to describe how she appeared atop that beast, controlling the fine mare beautifully. He smiled—thank God she rode side-saddle. A young colored girl sat astride behind her, skirt hiked over bare legs, hanging on to her mistress's waist for her life.
Joy Claret reined Libertine around, and seeing who called to her, she smiled and kicked Libertine to a pretty trot. She pulled up alongside the platform of the cafe, coming to a stop. "Why Katie, Ambrosia, how do you do!"
"Joy darling." Katie introduced the third unknown young lady, "This is Melissa, my cousin, all the way from Memphis for a visit!"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. This here's Cory." Joy smiled, pointing to her fellow passenger.
Comprehension was slow to follow confusion. Melissa managed to nod but remained so shocked that the young lady introduced her darky to her, she hardly heard the rest of the conversation.
All it would take was a quick glance to the back to see who else sat there, but Joy's eyes never left her friends. Ram was able to enjoy the uninterrupted pleasure, and he missed nothing of this first view of her in feminine apparel, nor did he miss the surprising and ever so admirable proportions of her slender figure, which were noted with a highly appreciative raise of brow. She wore a wine-colored skirt and a plain, white cotton shirt, the dark color, like the homespun quality of the skirt's material marking her family's poor financial situation. A matching maroon scarf held back her long unbound hair—hair that matched the dark roan-colored mare. A wide, straw sun hat crowned her head.
"Have, you come to town for shopping?" Joy was asking.
"Yes! Slippers and shawls for our party next week. Oh, you are coming Joy, aren't you?" "Oh, yes!"
"And tell me, darling, how is the good doctor faring of late?”
The question quickly subdued her gaiety. "Oh, better I think," she answered quietly. "Though goodness, his recovery is filled with ... well, occasional setbacks."
Katie reached a hand to Joy's and squeezed it affectionately, "Well, my word"—she knew to change the subject—"where are the two of you off to today?"
"You all won't believe it when I tell," Joy brightened with an excited laugh. "Cory and I are aiming to travel down river to where that old witch lives, the Negro’s medicine woman."
This drew the wide-eyed attention of all three young ladies. Ambrosia even gasped with shock, while Katie exclaimed, "Why, I don't believe it!"
"Oh, but we are! I'm going to ask her for a potion for Joshua." She bit her lip and looked briefly away to add, "Dr. Morson seems able to do little good these days."
"But aren't you afraid?" Katie pursued. “To hear our darkies talk of that woman, I half suspect she's as much myth as Methuselah. And not one of their tales doesn't lift my hair from my neck!"
"I'm not afraid at all. She might have something to help Joshua, and
Ram took no more notice of them, though each of the three young ladies was of the age where she noticed him. They fell into hushed whispers, bursts of giggles and blushes, quick sideways glances at his table. Ambrosia went so far as to drop a pretty pink lace handkerchief, one that matched perfectly her cotton day dress. The prompt serving woman quickly picked it up, shook it, and folded it neatly in front of the girl with a smile.
"Well, this is a first," Ambrosia assured her two friends.
"Oh my!" Katie cried happily, "Look, it's Joy! Yoo-hoo, darling!" She waved, jumping up. "Joy Claret!"
The name instantly solicited Ram's attention, and he looked up and over the street, held by the unexpectedness of it. She looked both lovely and magnificent; he knew no other way to describe how she appeared atop that beast, controlling the fine mare beautifully. He smiled—thank God she rode side-saddle. A young colored girl sat astride behind her, skirt hiked over bare legs, hanging on to her mistress's waist for her life.
Joy Claret reined Libertine around, and seeing who called to her, she smiled and kicked Libertine to a pretty trot. She pulled up alongside the platform of the cafe, coming to a stop. "Why Katie, Ambrosia, how do you do!"
"Joy darling." Katie introduced the third unknown young lady, "This is Melissa, my cousin, all the way from Memphis for a visit!"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. This here's Cory." Joy smiled, pointing to her fellow passenger.
Comprehension was slow to follow confusion. Melissa managed to nod but remained so shocked that the young lady introduced her darky to her, she hardly heard the rest of the conversation.
All it would take was a quick glance to the back to see who else sat there, but Joy's eyes never left her friends. Ram was able to enjoy the uninterrupted pleasure, and he missed nothing of this first view of her in feminine apparel, nor did he miss the surprising and ever so admirable proportions of her slender figure, which were noted with a highly appreciative raise of brow. She wore a wine-colored skirt and a plain, white cotton shirt, the dark color, like the homespun quality of the skirt's material marking her family's poor financial situation. A matching maroon scarf held back her long unbound hair—hair that matched the dark roan-colored mare. A wide, straw sun hat crowned her head.
"Have, you come to town for shopping?" Joy was asking.
"Yes! Slippers and shawls for our party next week. Oh, you are coming Joy, aren't you?" "Oh, yes!"
"And tell me, darling, how is the good doctor faring of late?”
The question quickly subdued her gaiety. "Oh, better I think," she answered quietly. "Though goodness, his recovery is filled with ... well, occasional setbacks."
Katie reached a hand to Joy's and squeezed it affectionately, "Well, my word"—she knew to change the subject—"where are the two of you off to today?"
"You all won't believe it when I tell," Joy brightened with an excited laugh. "Cory and I are aiming to travel down river to where that old witch lives, the Negro’s medicine woman."
This drew the wide-eyed attention of all three young ladies. Ambrosia even gasped with shock, while Katie exclaimed, "Why, I don't believe it!"
"Oh, but we are! I'm going to ask her for a potion for Joshua." She bit her lip and looked briefly away to add, "Dr. Morson seems able to do little good these days."
"But aren't you afraid?" Katie pursued. “To hear our darkies talk of that woman, I half suspect she's as much myth as Methuselah. And not one of their tales doesn't lift my hair from my neck!"
"I'm not afraid at all. She might have something to help Joshua, and
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