Twelve Days to Love

By Christine Young

When Archer Steele shows up at Calanthe Durand’s failing plantation with an alligator over his shoulder, Cali thinks she’s never seen a more handsome man. During the war she had to defend herself and her servants rom both union and confederate soldiers. Independent and self-sufficient, she vows to never marry.

But Archer Steele has different ideas. The first time Archer sees Cali in town, he feels an instant attraction. He decides he will do everything and anything to convince the beautiful Miss Durand he is worthy of her love. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, he gives her twelve gifts in hopes she will fall in love with him. Yet they are faced with challenges they must overcome before Cali can commit to a marriage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
• Release date: May 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781624204111

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Twelve Days to Love

Christine Young

Published by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP for Smashwords

Copyright © 2018

ISBN: 978-1-62420-411-1

Electronic rights reserved by Rogue Phoenix Press, LLP. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of these stories.

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Twelve Days to Love

On the first day of love, my true love gave to me an alligator from the bayou.

On the second day of love my true love gave to me, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the third day of love, my true love gave to me three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the fourth day of loves my true love gave to me, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the fifth day of love my true love gave to me, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the sixth day of love, my true love gave to me, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps, and an alligator from the bayou.

On the seventh day of love, my true love gave to me, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the eight day of love, my true love gave to me, eight magnolia trees, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps, and an alligator from the bayou.

On the ninth day of love, my true love gave to me, nine yellow roses, eight magnolia trees, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the tenth day of love, my true love gave to me, ten people serving, nine yellow roses, eight magnolia trees, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the eleventh day of love, my true love gave to me, eleven sapphires sparkling, ten people serving, nine yellow roses, eight magnolia trees, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three wicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

On the twelfth day of love, my true love gave to me, twelve days in Paris, eleven sapphires sparkling, ten people serving, nine yellow roses, eight magnolia trees, seven ducks a playing, six seed packets, five snapping turtles, four pink roses, three whicker chairs, two hurricane lamps and an alligator from the bayou.

Chapter One

Near New Orleans, October 2,1867

Sam! Close the shutters on the back landing. I’ll get the front. Hurry. There’s a storm coming. Calanthe Durand felt the small hairs on the back of her neck rise and shivers run down her spine. A big storm was on its way, probably a hurricane. Energy and fear poured through her like the pounding rain and flooding that accompanied high winds. Closing the house to the storm was imperative.

Cali took a moment to smile. She’d heard Sam grunt. He didn’t talk much, but she wouldn’t have survived the war or these last two years without Sam and his daughter, Daisy. Both sides, the North and the South, had occupied their home. Daisy and Sam were family, the only family she had. She’d do whatever was necessary to protect them. Even with emancipation, life wasn’t easy for blacks in the south. The whites who lost everything despised them, even blamed them, and the carpetbaggers thought themselves better than anyone else.

I’ve got them, Miss Cali. Daisy rushed past her and out the door. Wind whipped her hair and tugged at her dress. Branches torn from trees landed on the porch. A high-pitched wail with each gust echoed through the electrified air.

Cali followed, the storm swirling around her, her hair beating against her face. Her breath was ragged and fast as her heart thundered. She pushed and tugged at her skirt, trying to detangle the fabric from her legs. Get inside! The tempest raging around them swallowed her voice.

Not until we’re finished here. Daisy fastened a shutter before moving on to the next one.

They worked together to protect the windows from the storm on the raised porch, which stood five feet off the ground as wind howled around the eaves. A steady rain poured from the black sky, and lightning slashed the darkness.

Cali pushed dripping strands of hair that had slipped from her chignon away from her face before plucking at her soaked skirts. I’ll light the candles. It could get dark here pretty fast.

Horses and livestock are safe for now. Sam stepped beside her. Hope it’s not a big one.

Hello up there. Hello, bonjour, anyone home?

Hearing the voice from below, Cali left the protection of the house to lean over the porch railing. Below her a man stood, with cupped hands to his mouth and a dead gator slung over one shoulder, a quiver filled with arrows on the other. Hello. Can I get shelter from the hurricane?

Don’t know if it’s a hurricane. Terrified of unknown men, Cali didn’t want to do the charitable thing. She pursed her lips, thinking, but all that came to surface was memories of troops commandeering her home. Good lord, but she’d had to hollow out a bedpost to hide her jewelry and become even more creative with the larger things, like the china and silver. The soldiers had taken everything they could see. Sometimes she felt as if the war had ripped her soul from her body.

Maybe not a hurricane. Could be just a bad storm, but I don’t want to be on the swamp right now. The water’s rising by the minute. Don’t want to drown out here when there’s shelter. A loud roar and a thunderclap followed his pause. Behind him an old Cyprus tree crashed to the ground, uprooted by the wind.

You can take protection in the stable. Cali watched his back stiffen while she swallowed hard, but she wasn’t about to back down. The stable was good enough for some wandering man who she owed nothing. Besides, there was a tack room with a bed. No one slept there anymore, but she kept it clean and the moss in the mattress was fresh. Daisy had rolled it out two days ago. Yet a small niggling in the back of her head kept telling her this wasn’t a traveling man but one of means. He was a man she should treat as a gentleman. She’d been taught better, but the war had changed all that and the lessons she learned were not served to her with a silver spoon.

Much obliged. His jaw tightened but he nodded before turning toward the barn. His natural swagger and broad shoulders sent a different kind of sensation through her. Warmth swept inside, swirling within and heating her frozen heart. For a moment he looked back, a strange expression on his well-chiseled face.

A tiny bit of guilt raced through her, but she wasn’t going to change her mind. What are you going to do with that gator? Cali’s stomach rumbled. Sam hadn’t had much luck hunting the last few days, and a little meat along with the vegetables from the garden would be heaven sent.

He stopped, touching his hat. She didn’t think he meant to acknowledge her question, didn’t think he’d turn around. Seconds ticked by slowly. Rain sluiced off his clothes and jet black hair, pooling in the mud.

Her stomach rumbled, pushing her to ask him to come inside. Sharing a meal with this man couldn’t be that horrible. After all, he was bringing the food, not stealing.

Looking over his shoulder, he spoke. Thought I’d eat it. Reaching out he tugged at the stable doors. But at the moment, I don’t have any way to cook it.

She waved a hand, frustration and anger urging her on. Sir…ah…Daisy’s a good cook. She can make gator taste like chicken. We’ve got some vegetables stored in the cellar to add to the meal.

While he turned again, tipping his hat, a broad grin forming on his ever so handsome face. I always thought it tasted like snake.

His smile made her step back, her hand to her chest. For a moment she couldn’t inhale a breath. Well, maybe, but why don’t you come in? Sam will help you skin it.

"And Daisy will cook it. Sounds like a good idea, merci."

Before she could blink, the stranger was striding towards the house. The first level had been built on stilts, with decorative latticework in case of floods. A few times the overflow from the Mississippi and Lake Pontchartrain had kept them confined to the upstairs rooms. Most of the time floods didn’t affect the first floor.

I’ll go in the back way. Don’t want to muddy up your parlor. He disappeared around the back of the house, not using the front steps to enter.

As Cali walked inside, she prayed this wasn’t the wrong decision, and she told herself that Sam would keep his shotgun close at hand.

No disrespect, but I was listening in on your conversation. You sure it’s a good idea to invite this man inside, Miss Cali?

No, Daisy, I’m not sure, but now that he’s here, it’s up to us to cook that gator. Got any ideas?

We’ve got turnips in the cellar, carrots and tomatoes. Last of the crop. I’ll go see what I can find.

Flour and oil to fry the meat?

Yes, Mam.

All right then, as soon as they finish skinning the animal, we can get started. I’ll help with the meal, and Sam can keep an eye on…good lord, I didn’t get his name.

I know him. I’ve seen him in the swamp before. Town’s folk call him Archer, but his whole name is Archer Steele. He’s a carpetbagger. At least that’s what some people think. They only know he fought for the north. He was born and raised in Louisiana, so he can’t be no carpetbagger. Hearsay is that he owns two ships...trades cotton and sugar and travels all over the world. Owns a sugar plantation a few miles from here. His family has French connections.

Cali had so many more unanswered questions. Just because a man owned a plantation and ships didn’t make him a good man. She could think of a lot of men with money who were not good men. Well, as far as I’m concerned, he’s got to prove himself. I don’t care about pedigrees, even if they are a mile long, and I don’t care if he was born poor and made his fortune after the war. I’m the opposite, born rich and now poor as a church mouse.

You aren’t getting any younger, Miss Cali. Maybe it’s about time you found a man. Besides, he’s not from old money. As you just said yourself, he was born poor. Everything he owns he earned for himself by working hard. Working hard is a good recommendation for a man.

True words, but Cali didn’t think she wanted or needed to find a man. She was doing quite well living as an independent woman in her ancestral home. Neither are you, she told Daisy.

I know. Daisy wiped her hands on her apron. Think I’ll take a look at what’s in the cellar.

I’m sorry, Daisy. Cali reached out to stop her. I know that wasn’t nice. Good lord, when had she sunk so low? Daisy’s beau was killed just before the end of the war. Daisy still mourned his loss, and there weren’t that many men in these parts. Many who returned from the war just weren’t the same.

It’s okay, Miss Cali. I started the conversation. It’s just that I’d like to see you happy with a man to love and children to call your own. I want the same for me too. But a man for me isn’t carrying a gator over his shoulder and offering to share it. With those words said, Daisy picked up her skirts and whirling, headed for the cellar.

Her arguments hit home. Once upon a time that had been her dream. Once upon a time before her world fell apart and she learned few men were like her father, she had hopes for her future.

The lessons over the last few years were not pleasant, but they would stick with her forever. Believing in that fantasy again was not possible. Men would take what they wanted and give nothing in return. Her thoughts turned to Archer Steel. Would he take what he wanted and leave her with nothing? She stiffened her back and made a resolution to herself. Not if she had any say in the matter.

Puffing air, she blew a strand of hair from her face. Quit the maudlin thinking and get to the task at hand. A roar of wind shook the house, the windows vibrating, drawing her back to the task at hand.

With reflexes born from living through hurricanes, she clutched the counter top, hanging on until the gust died down. By now, the continuous roar impaired hearing, drowning out all other sounds.

Cali...

Oh, you startled me. I didn’t know you were there. Cali turned, her hand resting over her heart.

Sorry, Miss Cali. The wind’s mighty loud. Just wanted to say the gator’s been skinned, and we’ve got alligator to cook. Daisy set the meat near the stove before gathering the flour and oil. Going to fry this up for a tasty meal. Don’t need any gumbo today.

I’ll pump the water for the vegetables.

Miss Cali? Sam stood in the doorway. The horses have to be moved to high ground. Mr. Steele is going to help me. We’ll be back as soon as we get the animals away from the rising water. Don’t wait for us.

~ * ~

You don’t have to do this. Sam confronted the temporary houseguest. It ain’t none of your responsibility."

Of course I do. I wouldn’t want to take advantage. And taking me in is clearly not something the lady wanted to do. She’d send me packing if it wasn’t for the storm. Archer had seen Calanthe Durand in town a few times. If one could believe in love at first sight, that’s what happened to him three weeks ago. The moment he saw her, he knew she was meant for him, that she was his person and no one else’s.