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“Now that I think about it, maybe I’m more like Benjamin Franklin Ross than I thought.”

I waited for him to explain until I felt like I was going to burst. “Okay, tell me. How are you like Benjamin Franklin Ross?”

He turned his face towards me and grinned. “Let me answer your question by telling you the rest of Benjamin Franklin Ross’s story. Let’s go into the living room where you’ll be more comfortable.”

In response, I followed him and snuggled into the sofa.

"Benjamin's father recognized the family's stubborn streak in his son and stopped fighting. He must have worked out something with Elizabeth's father. The young couple were married within months and set up housekeeping at Waterwood. Their daughter Emma was born during their first year of marriage. Other babies followed though they did not survive. Benjamin made sure every baby was given a name and buried with a tiny headstone marking the spot. I think Emma was nine or ten when Elizabeth gave birth to a son who survived his first two years of life. But it was at a cost. Elizabeth never fully recovered from the birth. When an illness like influenza or scarlet fever struck the Shore, neither Elizabeth nor her son survived.

“People encouraged Benjamin to marry again.  After all, he had a young daughter who deserved the guidance a new wife could give her. Benjamin refused. He claimed that no other woman could take Elizabeth’s place and he would be both mother and father to his daughter.”

The story brought tears to my eyes. “How sad.  Did Emma spend the rest of her life here at Waterwood with her father?” I read stories that it was not that unusual for an only daughter to stay in her father’s home, handle the responsibilities as mistress of the plantation and act as her father’s hostess.

TJ jumped to his feet and started to pace. He showed more enthusiasm now than when he was talking about the fancy ball. "This is the part of the story I think is much more interesting. There was a smaller plantation adjacent to Waterwood owned by the Collins family. Just before the Civil War, the plantation got into some financial trouble. Mr. Collins was faced with the prospect of selling off a large part of his land to pay his debts. The man was clever and came up with a different scheme that involved the Ross family of Waterwood. He suggested that Benjamin's daughter Emma should be married to his oldest son, Joshua. It would be the union of the two families in the district and would somehow solve his financial difficulties.

“The only problem was Benjamin saw through his plan. On the face of it, uniting great plantations was a good idea. But Benjamin looked at the young man who would be his son-in-law and was not impressed. He suspected he was not a gentleman and, if he had the same poor business sense that his father had, Joshua could only bring trouble to Waterwood.”

“That’s something I can understand,” I said, as I pulled over a blue and white crocheted afghan to cover my legs. The fall season was declaring its arrival with a chill in the air.

"Benjamin talked with Emma and discovered she was completely opposed to the idea. She had fallen in love with a young man raised at Waterwood. I don't know his name, but he was the son of Benjamin's plantation manager.”

I reined in my excitement when I heard this and TJ continued.

“He was a fine young man, educated, with fine manners, but not in young Emma's class. Emma insisted it was true love. That was something Benjamin could understand."

“Of course, he would!" I exclaimed with a playful grin. "He had fallen in love with Elizabeth and proposed on the night of the glittering ball."

"This was serious," TJ insisted. "It was a difficult time for Benjamin. Tensions between the North and South were heating up. There was talk of secession. Benjamin did not want to rush into a decision that would affect the rest of his beloved Emma's life. So, he helped Joshua's father with his debts and postponed the decision about marriage. After all, Emma was young."

“What a story!  How do you know all this?” I asked, my body rocking with excitement.

"The women in my family are nuts about genealogy and history. My mom found letters, or was it a diary? I don't know."

I had to take control of myself. I took a calming breath before I asked, "Do you have Emma's diary?"

“I’m not sure.” He thought for a moment. “I guess we must. I can’t imagine anyone throwing away something like that. Maybe Mom included it with some other stuff about Waterwood when we donated to the Historical Society. I guess I could ask and find out, if it’s important.”

“It would be great if you could ask.” I wanted to grab the phone and thrust it at him to call the president of the historical society immediately. What an experience it would be to read Emma’s words as she wrote her feelings in her diary and match them up with Daniel’s letters that kept appearing on the desk. Of course, if I insisted, I’d have to explain that I was exchanging correspondence with a ghost. That wasn’t going to happen. I’d have to be patient and find another way to encourage him to find the diary without raising his suspicions.

I took a small pillow and squeezed it underneath my leg, grateful that the small gesture distracted him.

“Is your leg feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you. Now, tell me why you think that you and Benjamin Franklin Ross have something in common.”

“I don’t know.  When I

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