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his finger from his mouth and stomping forward.
    “You won’t either,” said Victoria.
    Blanche smoothed his hair over his forehead.
    “No,” Blanche soothed him. “You’re too sweet to go on adventures with all the big boys and girls today. You’ll stay with me and feed the animals.”
    Victoria chucked him under the chin on her way to gather the preserves, and Blanche turned back to Somerset.
    “Keep the peace at all cost, young lady. If they start to quarrel for any reason, you are to become immediately indisposed and need to come home. Joseph has been a challenge since he returned home, but I’ve had my fill of him since this last accident. I won’t tolerate a jot more humiliation out of him. I have no idea what put the brakes on their engagement, and after two years, I’d rather hoped that little minx wouldn’t come home again. I can’t imagine a worse pairing than those two. Do whatever you need to do to keep Joseph from making a scene. “
    Blanche looked at Somerset over the ledger she rested her chin on. Her dark blue eyes were stony and hard, set in a face that could have easily been ten years younger. It was a look Somerset knew well. Most of the time Blanche looked serene, but Somerset knew the expression on her face was the real Blanche, the woman who had started life over from scratch in Baton Rouge and then twice at Orchard Rest.
    “We’ll be the picture of decorum,” avowed Somerset.
    Blanche smiled and the twinkle reappeared in her eyes.
    “Of course you will. I’m letting you go because you handle him so well. When you come home, we’ll talk about a trip we’re going on. You’ll be happy to hear about it, dearest.”
    Victoria returned with three jars of preserves in her hands, a basket of peaches over one arm, and a jar of Betsy’s arthritis liniment balanced in the crook of one elbow. Evidently she was of the same opinion as her mother that they were barbarians for inviting themselves to the homecoming. Blanche led Warren to the hall where she began to sort through the contents of the walnut highboy.
    Joseph limped into the room looking like himself. His natural tan had returned and was enhanced by a crisp white shirt that was pilfered from Thomas’s wardrobe. He leaned on his walking stick and caught his breath.
    “What are we waiting for?” he asked. “I do hate to keep a lady waiting.”
    “Are you certain you want to go today?” asked Somerset.
    “You know I am.”
    “The train just arrived. Don’t you think she might appreciate some time alone with her family?”
    “They run over to Tuscaloosa to see her all the time. Besides, we’re getting married. We are family. I haven’t forgotten my manners.”
    His tone was lighthearted, but the set of his jaw said he’d ride Hector bareback if no one was willing to drive him. Victoria raised her eyebrows at Somerset as they filed out of the parlor and down the steps into the bright afternoon.
    Orchard Rest was quiet for a midweek afternoon. Thomas worked from before dawn to well after dusk each day when he wasn’t traveling, but Joseph was the true driving force behind improvements on the farm. Until Joseph was well enough to work, the plantation would stay at a lull. Thomas and his hired workers would tend the cotton and cattle while Blanche remained in charge of the poultry. Somerset, Victoria, and Bess would keep gathering and preserving fruit from the orchard and mind the family vegetable garden. It was an efficient, though small operation, and everyone had more than enough to keep them busy.
    Orchard Rest rose up behind Somerset as she drove away, she thought, like a swan about to take flight. It was a sprawling variation of the double quarter houses that Blanche had adored in Louisiana. The original house was a true double quarter house with a wrap-around verandah, but as the family kept expanding, Thomas had been forced to add to the house. Two smaller wings had been added, one on each side of the house, and they