The Dowry Read online

  “It is my hope, dear wife, to expose you to some of the finer things in life,” he replied with a smile.

  “You heard the man in the other room, the shipping costs will be more than the price of purchase. Even then, they make no assurances of safe delivery,” she cried out in frustration.

  “It will be shipped to America through my father’s line, and then to our home on your father’s boat. How much safer can it be done? Besides, some risks are worth the rewards, you will see,” he said, ending the discussion.

  Exasperated, Charlotte could think of no other argument to dissuade her husband from the frivolous purchase. If this is what their future together was to be like, she saw no joy in her life. Besides, why anyone would need a self-draining bathtub for inside the house was beyond her comprehension.

  Jacksonville, Present Day

  With the plans complete, signed off by the Foxworth rep, and dropped off at the city desk, Robert was headed to his first meeting of the morning. When he had gone to the city desk, they initially didn’t want to accept the marked-up version of his plans until Robert had promised to provide an updated Details page to be attached to the copy they now had. They had offered to give him a copy of the hand-drawn section, but he passed on the offer as it was already fixed in his memory.

  Leaving city hall, he soon found his way to nearby Duval Street, where he met first with the church officials. Originally constructed in 1858, the building had gone through many renditions until arriving in its current form. The building had been reconstructed a couple of times, fire being its nemesis. It was first reconstructed after the great Jacksonville fire of 1901, then again in 1931. The goal here was to restore the original 1858 feel to the structure.

  Working as diligently as possible with the customers, he was still distracted with thoughts of his new home south of there. Who was this mysterious CF and why couldn’t he meet with him or her. Several times during the meetings, Robert had to ask that a question be repeated as he had missed it.

  Once he was satisfied that he had everything he needed to prepare his submittal for the renovation work, he continued on to the Sammis House. Once again, the owner’s representative was there to meet him, but this time it was Robert’s turn to walk him through the proposed activities. The man seemed quite satisfied at the suggested changes and assured him the owner would be happy as well.

  Once he was finished at both customer locations, he made his way south once more. Well past noon at this point, he pulled in to see a number of vehicles parked at the job site, but didn’t see RD’s truck anywhere. Climbing out of his Jeep, he carefully made his way inside, doing his best not to trash his good clothes.

  “Anyone seen RD?” he shouted as the noise inside was considerable.

  “I think he said something about a run to Home Depot,” came a reply from another room.

  “If you see him before I get back, let him know I dropped the plans off with the city,” he shouted to the unseen voice.

  “Will do!” came the reply.

  Exiting the house, he quickly headed the Jeep north once more for a change of clothes and to retrieve his hound.

  ----*----

  “Who is CF?” RD asked as Robert climbed out of the Jeep with Hunter bounding away to investigate the worksite himself.

  “What?” Robert replied, surprised at the question.

  “The city inspector came by and gave me our permit and a copy of the approved plans. Who is CF?” he asked again as he pointed to the approval block on the copy he held in his hands.

  “I have no idea. I came here and got the plans this morning. The entire set had been signed off, but the last page,” Robert explained.

  “Who did the sketch on the last page? That’s going to be a bitch to do, but it does look really cool,” RD commented appreciatively.

  “CF,” Robert replied with a shrug as he followed RD inside.

  Setting the bag he had been carrying from the Jeep next to his cot, Robert turned to find RD watching him.

  “You are spending the night again tonight?” he asked, looking quite surprised.

  “It’s amazingly quiet here, you have no idea how much work I completed last time. Besides, I do plan on living here someday,” Robert said.

  “True that,” RD said with a shrug of his own.

  “Besides, I like the feel of the place, you know. Even as torn up as it is inside, it feels calm and relaxing.”

  With that, the two men spent the rest of the day identifying what needed to be accomplished before they could start the fun part of the renovation. Robert always thought of his projects in three phases. Phase 1, you tore the bad things down and took them out. Phase 2, you fixed or replaced the bad or broken pieces you weren’t removing, and Phase 3 was the fun part where you installed or cleaned up what you were keeping.

  Right now, Phase 1 was finishing up and Phase 2 was about to begin. That was fortunate because a considerable part of RD’s work force was about to be diverted to the projects in town. Robert was grateful that the timing of things had allowed him to use almost all of RD’s permanent construction crew to kick start the work here.

  RD subcontracted out his electrical and plumbing work; you couldn’t afford the really good guys on your payroll full-time unless you had a lot of regular work. Since his jobs always paid well, he never had a problem getting the subs on or close to schedule. With those types of projects next on the list, it wouldn’t impact other things in town.

  There, he kept his dedicated team of craftsmen busy from the beginning of the job to the very end, so they were all full-time on his payroll. Quite frequently they would be paired up with the subs to help out with any cutting, drilling or notching of the structure, to insure it was done to RD and Robert’s standards.

  Wandering upstairs, Robert started his inspection, checking to be sure he was ready for Phase 2. In the bathroom and bedrooms where the fixtures and radiators had been, he could see the floors had been carefully lifted to remove the old piping. He had little doubt that the old iron pipes were not only useless, but likely a danger. One ruptured water pipe would trash the plaster ceilings below and possibly ruin the furniture.

  With the floors up, they could now run electrical wiring for the rooms below as well as new pipes for both baths. Once everything was installed, the old original flooring would be meticulously replaced. Robert smiled at the mental image the finished product brought to mind.

  By the end of the day, schedules had been set, calls had been placed and orders confirmed, setting the men on a path to completing the work they had begun.

  ----*----

  It was just before sunset, and Robert found himself standing out at the end of the pier, watching the river as it slowly rolled past. He understood that due to the flatness of Florida here, the ocean tides entering where the river met the sea could affect not only the speed of the river but even the direction. At high tides he was told the river could be seen flowing in the opposite direction.

  Looking down, he saw that Hunter had followed him to the edge of the pier and found himself a comfortable spot as he patiently waited for his human. In his mind, Robert was envisioning the steamboats Charlotte had described in her writings as they stood tied up at dock while waiting for the loading and unloading to finish. With loading completed, they would float free from their tethers before belching black smoke skyward as they continued once more on the way up or down the river.

  He found it hard to imagine that this river, now considered nothing more than a recreational waterway, was once the livelihood for the entire region. Sadly, it had been replaced by the railroad and freeways that now crisscrossed the state. Robert sighed at the lost history and admitted to himself that he was still a hopeless romantic.

  “Come on, Bubba, let’s go eat,” Robert said to the dog, using one of the many nicknames he had given the dog over the years. Referred to as Bubba the Redneck Hound Dog, Hunter seemed to take it all in stride so long as there was a meal involved.

  It was alm
ost dark by the time they reached the house, forcing Robert to light the lantern before beginning anything else. Having killed the generator before walking down to the river, he was enjoying the solitude that this location provided him. With no bright city lights illuminating the skyline, or the constant drone of traffic on a nearby freeway, he was surrounded by just the sounds of nature.

  Dinner was a simple affair of a sandwich and chips as Robert couldn’t muster the energy to cook. Kibble in a bowl was enhanced with a few slices of lunch meat and cheese. Snagging a beer from the ice chest, Robert was set.

  Foregoing his laptop for just one night, he grabbed the diary he had been reading and found his place, eating the meal he had prepared for himself and Hunter as he read more about Charlotte. By now she had completed the house and was struggling with her father’s choice of a husband for her.

  Setting the book down, Robert grabbed the lantern and, on a whim, headed out to the carriage house. Once inside, he moved to the back wall where several of the larger pieces of art had been stored. He easily found the piece he was looking for and once he had brought it out in front of the stacked furniture, he was able to check the back of the frame in the lantern light.

  There he found that the wire used to hang art from the picture rails or crown molding was still in place. He then shuffled through several boxes before he found the picture hooks he had seen the day they brought the boxes down from the attic. Having to make two trips, one in almost total darkness as the painting was quite large, he managed to get everything back into the parlor undamaged.

  Moving one of the taller ladders over to the fireplace on the wall opposite the pocket doors, Robert climbed up and located the picture hook precisely centered over the fireplace itself. Next, he carefully lifted the painting, almost falling once, before he managed to get the wire onto the hook.

  Working to center the piece, he finally climbed off the ladder and pulled it aside as he stood back admiring his work. There before him, in her fashionable blue gown, was Charlotte standing in front of the house that she had built.

  “Welcome home,” he commented to the face staring out at him.

  ----*----

  “That’s a little premature, don’t you think?” RD asked as he entered the parlor where Robert was eating the breakfast he had just cooked.

  Pointing to the extra plate he had set aside, Robert waited for RD to sit before replying.

  “I think it’s inspirational,” he replied between bites.

  “I think you are spending way too much time here alone and in the dark,” RD said a tad snidely.

  “She was a looker,” RD added after a few bites of his own as he stared up at the painting.

  “It’s funny that she didn’t see that herself,” Robert commented as he considered the portrait.

  “What are you talking about?” RD asked, confused by the reference.

  “In her diaries. Not once has she referred to her appearance, in a good way or bad,” Robert said as he reflected on the significance.

  “Some women are like that. She was probably just focused on other things.”

  “Like everyone else but herself,” Robert acknowledged.

  By the time they had finished eating, the rest of the work crew had arrived and began the day’s activities. However, it wasn’t too long before RD had to seek Robert out.

  “Robert, you are going to have to take that thing down,” he stated as he approached Robert, who was out in the backyard surveying the grounds. Clipboard in hand, he was making notes on a sketch of the area where he wanted the pool.

  “What?” Robert replied, confused at the statement.

  “The painting, it’s freaking the guys out. No one wants to go in there with it hanging up,” Robert could tell RD was clearly embarrassed.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Robert replied, now understanding the reference.

  “Wish I was,” RD replied as he indicated the men standing on the porch behind him.

  Heading back inside after setting his clipboard down on the railing, he walked past the men milling around outside and went straight into the parlor.

  “What's the problem?” he asked as he waved at the painting.

  “They say she is watching them,” RD said sheepishly.

  “Watching them?” Robert replied, making the statement sound even more ridiculous.

  Scanning the room, he strode over to the covering the painting had on it when he brought it from the carriage house. Pulling the ladder over once more, he climbed up and covered the canvas.

  “There, is that better?”

  “I’m sure it is,” RD replied as he waved the men inside who had been watching the entire thing through the windows on the front porch.

  “I’m sorry, Robert, I told you there might be problems like this.”

  “It’s alright. I know it’s not your doing. Do they know I am sleeping here at night?”

  “Yeah, and they are split between thinking you’re crazy or braver than shit!” RD replied with a laugh as he walked out of the room.

  Chapter 9

  Jacksonville, 1859

  Charlotte was in the middle of supervising a transfer of goods to one of her father’s steamboats, maintaining a running inventory of everything as they went along, when her husband came strolling down the pier. Married for almost a year now, she still hadn’t warmed up to the man as her father had said she would. While they maintained a cordial relationship as husband and wife, it was far from the passion she had imagined in her youth.

  The European honeymoon had been a disaster for her, as the man spent money as if it were growing on trees. Technically, the money was his, as it came from part of his inheritance as well as the family business, but it was the frivolous attitude with which it was spent that was concerning to her.

  It seemed everywhere they went, her husband selected item after item intended for shipment home. In those purchases, he had managed to furnish a good portion of the house, permitting her to select several of the pieces herself. While not usually her first choice in furniture, she was grateful he had conceded the selection to her.

  The one thing she was very grateful for was his noninterference in her business affairs. Since returning to Jacksonville and their home on the river, he had kept his distance from her business dealings, content to act as head of the household and a husband.

  She suspected he didn’t take it seriously, but had yet to give voice to her suspicions. He had even permitted her to retain the name Foxworth House, as it proclaimed its association with the shipping line her father ran.

  He would be gone for days at a time as he returned to Jacksonville to apprentice under his father’s watchful eye. With each trip she could see a slight change in his demeanor, more attentive to her, less boastful.

  She knew he also spent a good portion of his time involved in the local politics of the city, something she deplored. They had spent many an evening discussing their concerns over a coming war with the North. The Northern meddling in the Southern economy had them both concerned, specifically over the potential impact it might have on their lives and businesses.

  Beyond that, Charlotte was aware that he had been privately drilling in secret with a local military unit, his proficiency with a saber and on horseback being well-known in the area. In addition to the training, his education had him on the shortlist of candidates for a commission should Florida field its own forces.

  “Looks to be a large shipment?” Jefferson commented.

  “Yes, people seem to be shipping less frequently, so the fewer runs are larger in quantity,” she replied without looking up.

  “Probably hoarding, concerned about troubled times ahead.”

  “Ah huh,” she said, distracted as she did the math in her head once more before recording the number.

  Finishing her work, she looked up to see him smile at her. Returning the gesture, he turned without another word and began walking away, back toward the house.

  Foxworth House, Present Day<
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  Robert was sitting alone in the parlor, working on his laptop and finishing the last of the renovation plans for his two projects in town. After the last of the work crew had left for the day, he had removed the cover over the painting, almost apologetic to Charlotte for having covered it earlier. Studying the face in the portrait as he did so, he found nothing creepy or supernatural in the painting. She was simply lovely.

  Everyone heard the stories about portraits with the eyes that follow your every move, or the ones that cry tears of blood. He found nothing of the sort in Charlotte’s face, just the hint of a smile, captured by her sister. This he knew, as he had read the entry in Charlotte’s diary where she described the painting as a gift from her little sister, Christina.

  Maybe it was because he knew it was a gift born of love that he could see no ill in its presentation. Regardless, he would leave it where it hung until it needed to be moved to allow the restoration work of the parlor. Then, he had every intention of placing it right back where it hung at this moment.

  His thoughts then went to the work at hand. The next few weeks were going to be quite stressful in the house as they needed to route piping and electrical wires through the walls, ceilings and floors, while doing as little damage as possible. He had walked the place with both RD and the subs to ensure they understood the concerns he had. Satisfied that the men knew what they were doing, he had left them to begin their work and returned to his own restoration responsibilities.

  Happy with the plans on his computer, he sent them to RD’s office for prints to review with the customers in Jacksonville. He then sent off a few emails, requesting meeting dates and notifying RD of his progress. With everything in order, he shut the computer down, lit the lantern, and then walked outside to kill the generator.

  He found Hunter lying on the front porch, facing out into the yard as if on guard duty. Robert turned off the generator and then went to sit on a step next to the dog. Giving him a pat, the two sat quietly as they stared out into the darkness. Every so often, a passing car would light up the night as it drove past.