Letters in Time by Reiss Susan (i love reading books .txt) 📕

think about that love story, I think it’s more like two love stories wrapped up in one. Of course, it’s about Elizabeth. But it’s also about his love for Waterwood and that’s where we match up. I was born and raised in Annapolis on the Western Shore of the Bay. I spent all my free time here at Waterwood or talking to the farmers in the area. I helped out in any way I could. My uncle who lived here called me his Little Shadow. But I would never be part of Waterwood, not the way I wanted to be.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“My uncle owned Waterwood. He planned to pass it down to his son and so on. There wasn't room for me in the line of inheritance. That meant there wasn't room for me at Waterwood unless I hired on as a farmhand. That wasn't an option. My cousin didn't want me looking over his shoulder. He didn't want someone who had a rightful place at the family dinner table doing farm work. Besides, Waterwood couldn't sustain both of us."

I tried to reconcile the story of a self-sustaining plantation that supported many families with the idea that it couldn’t support two farmers today. And I failed.

Chapter Thirty

“The Baltimore City Council passed a resolution unanimously to relieve the jail physician of his duties due to his failure to attend to U.S. soldiers confined there.”

— Baltimore Sun Newspaper, January 31, 1862

TJ must have suspected my confusion and continued. "You have to remember that the Waterwood that Benjamin Franklin Ross inherited isn't the same Waterwood you see today. The custom back then was to pass down the property and its assets in one package to the eldest son, unless an arrangement was made for any other sons or family members. Emma had two sons. The oldest one inherited most of the property on his father's death, but his brother was given a chunk of rich land, large enough to support his family. That, of course, passed down through that line and was no longer considered part of Waterwood. Over the generations, more land packages were given to younger children or sold off when the owner needed cash. That's how Waterwood has dwindled to what it is today."

“But it’s still a substantial property,” I insisted.

"Yes, it is, but it can't sustain the land, the main house and even one family on its own anymore. Today, we rotate crops, some of which are not as profitable, to help maintain the integrity of the soil. Land-use restrictions limit the areas we can plant. Farming itself has become an expensive business. Acreage doesn't always produce enough to support it on its own. That’s why I lease other fields for farming and run my custom farming business as well. In the 21st century, agribusiness emphasizes the business part, out of sheer necessity.”

I was still confused. “So, how did you end up with Waterwood?”

TJ dropped his eyes. "That's another sad part of the story. My uncle had one son. He wasn't all that interested in farming like I was. While I was away at college, his son went out drinking one night and wrapped his car around a tree. Since his daughter didn't have any interest in the land, he deeded it to me. After losing his son, my uncle didn't have the energy or the interest to manage Waterwood. My uncle figured that some good came out of the loss. He had a chance to see some of the early improvements I made before he died. It felt good to make him proud.”

We sat quietly together, each lost in our thoughts. Outside the crickets joined the frogs in their early evening concert of peeps and chirps, the sounds of early fall. They were probably the same sounds Benjamin heard as he sat quietly looking at the water, pondering his daughter's happiness and the future of his land.

Slowly, I came to the conclusion that this story didn't have a happy ending. The last thing Daniel had told me by letter was that he rode away from Waterwood with Emma’s father to join the Confederate cause. Daniel’s letters that appeared on the plantation desk were filled with concern that Emma thought that he didn’t care about her or may have forgotten him. There had to be more to the story. I was eager to know what happened. Patience when working with children was one of my strong suits. Patience in my personal life was not.

“I hope you can finish the story, TJ. Did Emma and the plantation overseer’s son get together? Did they have to wait until after the war to marry? When did she marry the awful Joshua? Tell me what happened.”

“Whoa there. You sure are interested in your namesake, even though you’re not part of the family.”

I shrugged, hoping to appear casual. “We girls named Emma have to stick together.” I softened the statement with a wink.

"All right then. But you have to sit through the whole story." I nodded in agreement. "The plantation owners on the Eastern Shore were very conflicted about the troubles between the North and the South. They wanted to maintain the Union and continue to enjoy all its benefits, but their way of life was built on the Southern plantation lifestyle that involved slaves.

"Most landowners here wanted to avoid war and find a compromise so they could make a transition without destroying their livelihood. The men of the South, especially the Deep South, were firebrands. They thought the war was about their honor as gentlemen. States started seceding from the Union. Tempers flared in the North as well. Things started getting