FREDERICA SUMMER
Author: Dody Myers
Publisher: Bella Rosa Books
6" x 9" Hardcover w/dustjacket,
ISBN 0-9747685-4-5
LCCN 2004113051
Retail: $26.95US; 260pp

back to book details
buy the book

Chapter One

Today was her birthday!
    It was the fifth of April in the year 1739 and she was thirteen years old.
    Tabitha Plummer stood at the open window of a room in her grandparent's home, where she had come with her father, gazing out at the tender new green of spring in the side garden. Shafts of sunlight filtered through oaks strung with silvery moss. Magnolias, camellias and azaleas grew in profusion and Tabitha drank in the simple smell of freshly turned soil. There was a gentle breeze and tiny oak leaves floated to the ground in their ever-changing life cycle. It was radiant and sweet-smelling, a day to be treasured and remembered.
    Father had brought her to Savannah to celebrate this important entrance into young womanhood. The problem was that today she was dressed in a frilly pink dress more suited to a ten-year-old and her grandmother insisted she wear English shoes instead of her more comfortable moccasins. Her feet hurt.
    Tabitha lived in the village of Tustacatty along the Oconee River in inland Georgia with her father, George Plummer, and her Creek mother, Windwhisper. She had been very excited when her father told her of his plans for her birthday. Now she wasn't so sure. Although she had been educated in Savannah she felt out of place in the white world—as out of place as she sometimes felt in the Indian world.
    Leaning her head against the window frame Tabitha thought of the difference between her two worlds. Unexpectedly her throat tightened and she felt tears gathering behind her eyes as sadness at the feeling of not belonging welled up in her. With a bleak, wintry feeling she blinked and issued a soft cough to clear her throat. It was her birthday. She would not allow negative thoughts to mar this day, she would not feel sorry for herself. Tabitha hated self-pity in others, considered it to be a sign of weakness. She was strong. Her mother always told her she was, and her mother was the wisest person she knew.
    Turning away from the window, she walked over to the door and twisted the knob. Resolutely she let a smile curl her lips and stuck out her chin. She would not be sad. Not today. Not on her birthday.
    Her father, a man of medium height with the distinctive long nose and high brow of the English, was waiting for her in the entry hall and he watched her descend the spiral staircase with a look of tender love on his face.
    "Oh, Princess, you look lovely," he said softly. "And your hair . . . what a difference."
    Self-consciously, Tabitha lifted her hand to pat the shiny black tresses that her grandmother had loosened from their customary braids to cascade across her shoulders.
    "Thank you, Poppa."
    "Are you ready for your big day?" he asked as he took her arm and moved her toward the door. "I thought we might visit several of the shops that have opened on Bull Street and find a special present for my special girl."
    "Do I get to pick it out?"
    "Indeed you do."
    Together she and her father walked out into the brilliant April sunshine. They wandered slowly along the tree-shaded streets admiring the beautiful things displayed in shop windows.
    Her father seemed attracted to a jeweler's shop where he pointed out several baubles that caught his attention. "Just look at that," he cried pointing to a broach of blue stones. "It matches perfectly the blue of your eyes."
    "But Poppa I would have no use for that at Tustacatty. Besides, I have many strings of beads from the Trading Post."
    "Those are only Indian trinkets. This broach is meant for a lady."
    Tabitha giggled.
    Ten minutes later, as they were passing the last shop on the street Tabitha spotted a dress hanging on a form just inside the open door of Madame Elaine's Frock Shop. She fell in love with it instantly. Unlike the childish dress she wore, it was a grown up gown of airy, gossamer muslin. It was highly impractical, obviously very expensive, and very, very, beautiful. She could not take her eyes from it. Tabitha knew she would never have a place to wear it and yet she ached to own it.
    Her father did not miss her halting footsteps and the look of longing in her eyes. He took her hand and drew her into the small shop.
    "No, Poppa. It will be far too expensive," she said, pulling back.
    He obviously had no intention of being thwarted. He took Tabitha's arm in a vise-like grip and marched her into Madame Elaine's.
    The shop girl immediately took charge, removing the dress from the form, leading Tabitha into a dressing room and helping her into the gown. When all was in place Tabitha reluctantly looked at her reflection in the cheval mirror. The color was captivating, a clear bright blue, the color of the delphiniums in Grandma's garden. It suited her to perfection.
    She studied herself in the mirror and for the first time in her young life acknowledged that she was rather pretty. Not beautiful, but then neither was she plain. There was a hint of stubbornness in her face reflected in the determined set of her chin and resolute mouth. Her skin had a rosy tint that spoke of her Indian heritage, her hair was black as ebony, but it was her eyes that were her best feature. They were large, thickly fringed with long black lashes and blue, deep and vivid, unusual for a girl of mixed-blood.
    The blue of the dress intensified the color of her eyes and its cut hinted at the curves of her newly blossoming figure. Tabitha was tall and her height was a constant source of irritation to her. Although, she thought as she twisted and turned before the mirror, I am slender and rather shapely.
    "It is perfect for you," the shop girl cooed as she steered Tabitha back into the showroom where her father waited.
    His gaze swept her from head to toe. "You must have it," he said, nodding his approval.
    "But Poppa, wherever will I wear it?" She glanced at Madame Elaine hovering nearby and dropped her voice to a whisper. "It's very expensive."
    "And it is worth every penny. Today is special, Princess. Business has been good this spring. You can wear it this evening for your birthday dinner. Mr. Otterbridge and his fiancée have been invited. You remember him, don't you? He's a good friend of your former teacher, the Reverend John Wesley."
    He turned and winked at Madame Elaine. "We'll take it."

    Later, they stopped for lunch at a lovely little tea shop and then, hand in hand, took a leisurely stroll through Johnson Square. Newly planted pansies and bluebells formed a tapestry of brilliant color beneath the shady oaks. Her father found a bench in a shady space under the trees and motioned for her to sit down.
    "Wait here for me, Tabitha. I've business across the street with a fur broker that will be of no interest to you. I'll only be a short time and then we'll return home. You'll have time for a nap and a bath before dressing for dinner. Will you be all right?"
    "Of course I will, Poppa. Go tend to your business." She settled herself on the bench and placed the bag containing her new dress beside her, then flashed him a smile. "What possible harm could come to me here?"
    However, only five minutes later Tabitha watched a trio of boys saunter by, then turn to stare at her. They were dirty and unkempt and they stood close together snickering and making lewd gestures with grimy fingers. She heard one of them say, "That red-skin look to her means only one thing, boys. That gal's a half-breed. Come with me." He ambled over to her and the others followed.
    Tabitha kept her eyes downcast trying to ignore their presence.
    "What you doin' all alone out here, half-breed?" the boldest asked.
    Tabitha made no reply.
    "Hopin' for some company ain't you?" another said with a smirk. "All dressed up in a pretty pink dress."
    "We got jest what yer lookin' fer," the bold one said. He reached out a hand to touch her arm when a loud oath from a short distance away caused all of the boys to whirl around.
    A tall, well built Indian brave glared down at the boys. He was naked to the waist, bulging biceps gleaming with oil, wearing a breechclout and leggings. "Move on," he commanded in a tongue Tabitha recognized as Cherokee. The boys did not seem to comprehend so he repeated the order in broken English. His coal black eyes shot signals of danger as he moved menacingly closer.
    The boys turned tail and ran.
    The Cherokee looked at her sternly. "Savannah rough town. No place for girl alone," he said.
    "My father is just across the square." Tabitha stuck her chin out. "He'll be back shortly. I can take care of myself . . . but thank you for coming to my aid."
    His thin lips quirked with a hint of a smile. His gaze swept over her and he rocked his weight from side to side as though unsure whether to stay and talk or move on.
    Just then Tabitha spotted her father running toward them. He skidded to a stop, glaring at the Indian. "What is going on here?" he gasped, out of breath. "Tabitha, you know better than to speak to strangers."
    Quickly Tabitha told him what had happened and how the brave had come to her assistance.
    Mollified, Mr. Plummer twirled around and grasped the hand of the surprised Indian. "George Plummer," he said, "of the Tustacatty Trading Post. And this," he added, "is my daughter Tabitha. I believe I owe you my gratitude."
    "Broken Arrow, of the Antelope Clan of the Cherokee Confederacy," the brave replied. He dropped his hand to his side and his gaze darted to Tabitha. There was a look in his eyes that unsettled her. He hesitated, obviously unsure what to say.
    "Thank you, again," she said, fidgeting slightly under his intense stare, suddenly aware of her femininity. He was unbelievably handsome, his skin a rich coppery color.
    Mr. Plummer put his hand on her elbow and guided her to her feet. "We must be on our way. Come, dear." He nodded to Broken Arrow and began to walk away with a firm hand on Tabitha's arm.
    Broken Arrow stared intently after her and as she glanced over her shoulder she saw his hand rise slightly in a gesture of farewell.

    After returning home from the park Tabitha took a short nap, then, refreshed and eager for the evening ahead, she bathed, dusted her body generously with her Grandmother's talcum and began to dress for the evening ahead. Her face flushed with happiness as she pulled the new blue dress over her head and settled it about her shoulders. She hardly dared look in the cheval glass, a long mirror mounted on swivels in a mahogany frame, standing in a corner of her grandmother's spare room. What if it wasn't as pretty or fit as well as she recalled? Slowly she turned, first one way, then the other, to view the dress in its entire splendor. Oh, it was just as she remembered. It was beautiful—undoubtedly the loveliest thing she had ever owned.
    With a perky swish of her skirt she moved to the tiny dressing table set with an array of powders, perfumes and brushes. She brushed her hair until it shone, and then with a slight giggle she applied a dab of cologne behind her ear.
    Satisfied at last with her appearance she descended the spiral staircase and joined her grandparents and their guests in the drawing room.
    The room was furnished in excellent taste, with a few mahogany Hepplewhite pieces, and several needlepoint chairs. The walls were stenciled with vines of green ivy, the color repeated in the silk drapes and upholstery of two circular sofas facing one another. Louvered doors leading onto a covered logia stood ajar admitting a faint breeze that carried the scent of magnolia and mimosa.
    Reverend Otterbridge rose from a chair and strode across the room to greet her. Tabitha was delighted to see him. He was a good friend of Reverend John Wesley, having served with him as assistant pastor at the Savannah church where two years earlier she was introduced to the Christian faith. Tabitha had spent that summer with her grandparents receiving both an education and tutoring in English from John Wesley.
    "Tabitha!" Otterbridge exclaimed raising her hand to his lips. "Happy Birthday, my dear."
    She felt heat flood her face. No one had ever kissed her hand before. It must be the grown-up gown, she thought with delight.
    A young woman had joined him and he turned to introduce her with a look of adoration. "Let me introduce my fiancée . . . Tabitha Plummer . . . Miss Adele Lefebvre."
    Tabitha liked her immediately. She had a look of sense and elegance, a petite figure, soft, light-brown hair and intelligent hazel eyes. Her gaze, when it lingered on Mr. Otterbridge, showed the same adoration. For some crazy reason Tabitha's thoughts flickered to the young brave in the park that afternoon. How wonderful it must be to be in love.
    "Tabitha, what a pretty name," Adele said. "It's from the Bible, isn't it?"
    "Yes, from the Book of Acts. My Creek name is White Blossom, but when I was to be baptized Reverend Wesley told me to just open the Bible and look for a Christian name I liked. It fell open to Acts 9:36 and the first name I saw was Tabitha. I like it. It means full of good works and almsdeeds."
    "How lovely. And White Blossom is delightful too. You are lucky to have two attractive names."
    But not to live in two different worlds, Tabitha thought ruefully. Next week I will go back to being White Blossom again. She wondered if that was why her father always called her Princess. Was it because that way he did not have to choose one name over the other?
    She set a smile on her face as they walked over to join her family. Her father was standing in front of the fireplace, one hand resting on the mantle, a glass of sherry in the other. How handsome he is, she thought. No buckskins tonight. Tonight he was dressed in a figured waistcoat, a ruffled shirt with a white cravat, short breeches buttoned to the knee and long boots with white tops. He was talking animatedly to her grandfather, a tall man with bristling gray hair and a sizeable paunch.
    Grandmother Plummer rose from her chair with a rustle of brocaded silk and gathered her granddaughter in her arms. She smelled of lavender. Tabitha fondly placed a kiss on her rouged cheek.
    Conversation ebbed and flowed as they awaited the announcement of dinner. When it came her father took her arm and escorted her to the dinning room. She walked with her head high, her shoulders back, aware of every place the blue dress clung to her slender body.
    How out of place Mother would feel in these surroundings, she thought with a sudden pang. She is wise to stay in the village among her own.
    The table was set with her grandmother's best china and silver and there was a tall vase of flowers in the center. Tabitha was seated between Mr. Otterbridge and her grandfather. Adele was directly across the table from her and as they were being served she leaned forward and said, "I suppose you know that both the Wesley brothers . . . John and Charles . . . have returned to England."
    "No, I didn't," Tabitha said with a start of surprise.
    "Well, of course, Charles suffered from fever and dysentery, but mostly it was a case of mental agony and depression. He served as General Oglethorpe's Secretary at Fort Frederica for about nine months but he felt the soldiers were undisciplined heathens." She laughed. "And he claimed the people at Frederica were unsettled, in a constant state of alarm from the Spaniards, and completely unreceptive to his message. He was very unhappy."
    Mr. Otterbridge nodded. "Then, of course, his brother's main design in coming to the colonies was to preach to the Indians. John took the appointment to the Savannah church only after his plan to go to the Choctaws, the least corrupted of all the Indian nations, was thwarted by General Oglethorpe."
    "Why did General Oglethorpe object?" Grandmother Plummer asked.
    Mr. Otterbridge turned to her with a smile. "There was considerable danger of him being intercepted or killed by the French who are in control of the Choctaw, but more importantly it would leave Savannah destitute of a minister."
    "But you are here in Savannah," Tabitha said.
    "Ah, but I had been appointed to serve the congregation at Ebenezer. Now, of course, I am here filling John's post."
    "He was a good schoolmaster," Tabitha commented. "He had great patience with women and children."
    The soup was served and for awhile everyone was busy eating the delicious chowder. Adele finally laid her spoon aside and said, "I don't mean to be a gossip but John Wesley had an unhappy love affair with a Miss Sophia Hopkey. When she up and married a Mr. Williamson, John refused to give her the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper because he believed her guilty of conduct which he judged to be reprehensible. He was brought before the court. Later he was acquitted but this was the final blow to his self esteem and he asked to be relieved of his duties as minister to Savannah and in December last he sailed for England."
    "We lost a good man," Tabitha's grandfather observed sagely. "But you, sir, have filled in admirably in the interim."
    "Thank you," Mr. Otterbridge said. "And now that I have become engaged to this lovely young lady I will undoubtedly stay in Savannah."
    Conversation lagged as the meal progressed. Finally dishes were cleared, and desert brought in. As Tabitha began to spoon her bread pudding Mrs. Plummer looked at her with an affectionate smile. "You look very pretty tonight, dear. That dress is most becoming—it brings out the blue of your eyes. Won't you stay with us another week? Susan Alou is having a birthday party next Saturday and I feel certain she would be glad to invite you."
    Tabitha looked hopefully at her father.
    "We must get back to the Trading Post," he said regretfully. "When I spoke with my factor this afternoon he encouraged me to make the trip to Spanish Florida this fall to trade with the Yemassee. I have been planning it for some time. Alligator skins are more plentiful there and of larger size. I want Windwhisper and Tabitha to accompany me."
    "Oh, dear! Isn't that dangerous, son?" Tabitha's grand-mother said. "I hear the Spanish are quite angry with us for expanding the boundaries of the Georgia colony and taking possession of land that they claim belongs to them."
    "I'll take a number of Creek braves with me for protection. For some time now I've been thinking of setting up another post in Florida, where competition with other traders is not so keen. Nothing will happen to us. And Tabitha is looking forward to it."
    Not really, Tabitha thought. She felt a sudden chill, a strange foreboding of danger. But she wouldn't tell her father that. He would be ashamed of her childish fear.

copyright © 2004 Dody Myers

To purchase FREDERICA SUMMER
from your local independent bookseller click here:

Purchase at amazon.com

Purchase at barnes&noble.com

Purchase at booksamillion.com:

Or you may order a copy of FREDERICA SUMMER direct from BellaRosaBooks using PAYPAL.
$27.00 Includes shipping & handling worldwide.
Click the button below to place your order.

Or contact us at sales@bellarosabooks.com .

BOOKSELLERS:
All Bella Rosa Book titles are available through
Ingram, Baker & Taylor, Brodart Company, Book Wholesalers, Inc. (BWI),
The Book House, Inc., and Parnassus distributors.

Booksellers, Schools, and Libraries can also purchase
direct from Bella Rosa Books.
For quantity discounts contact sales@bellarosabooks.com .