by Naomi Finley
“Let’s not talk of that,” I stepped forward and clasped his hands in mine. “Please, for my sake.”
He tilted his head and eyed me, his expression tender. “All right, as you say, Miss Amelie.”
“How did you end up here?”
“I found my boy. He lives here at Livingston. Got himself a woman and two chillum.”
I squeezed his hands with enthusiasm and smiled up at him. “That is splendid news. I can’t express how happy that makes me.”
He grinned. “And dat ain’t de most of et. My Rita, she here too.”
My eyes widened. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“I free, and I found my family,” he said, but with grave sadness.
I frowned. “Why do I sense you aren’t happy?”
“Oh, I happy ’nuf. A man always gwine to miss his home country, but my life is here wid de family I made in dis country. What ’bout you? Why you join de Union?”
I shrugged and released his hands. “I suppose I wanted a fresh start…and to balance the wrongs I’ve done in my life. My life has never held any purpose.”
“You sought to find purpose in de war?”
“I suppose I did, but it only weighed on my soul even more—”
“Recruit?” a husky voice said from behind Big John.
My heart thumped at the interruption, and I craned my neck to discover Zeke standing behind Big John.
He strode forward. “What is the meaning of this?” He looked from Big John to my exposed hair.
“This is Big John.” I had told him of my time with Big John, and at the revelation of his name, Zeke’s naturally stony gaze slipped, and he took a step back before regaining his composure.
“Amelie has said much about you.” Zeke thrust out his hand, and Big John eyed it hesitantly. I thought he was uncertain about the display of friendliness between a previous slave and a white man, but Big John’s response left me gaping at him.
“Miss Amelie a good woman. Am I to believe you have taken a laking to her?” He narrowed his eyes at Zeke as though peering into his soul and analyzing his intentions.
I gasped at Big John’s inquiry.
“If you’re asking if I love Amelie, then the answer is yes.” At Zeke’s reply my throat tightened, and I glanced at him to notice his rigid countenance had never faltered. He’d never proclaimed the words aloud to me, but I’d known he cared.
Big John’s imposing gaze rested on Zeke for an awkward moment too long before a wide smile erupted, and he excepted his hand and shook it with passion. “Maybe you a man worthy of a woman lak her.” He nudged his head at me, and as his choice of words registered I broke into tears—the ugly, forlorn weeping where one heaves and grunts like a dying animal, but where the restoring purification of your soul ensues.
“We need to go before one of the others come looking.” Zeke glanced at me, and I saw the warmth in his brown eyes.
I wiped my tears and replaced my hat, pulling it down low to shadow my face.
“You take care of yourself, Miss Amelie,” Big John said with a smile that waltzed on my soul.
I stepped forward and hugged him, not caring if he responded, but to my delight and surprise, he patted my back as I imagined a father would embrace a child. The solace of his caress filled my heart.
“Maybe ef you are in dese parts again when de war is over, you stop by here,” he said when we parted.
“If Mrs. Armstrong would allow me on her property after this, I would. But I doubt she would be so cordial, and I can’t say I’d blame her.”
Zeke and I returned to the front yard and mounted our horses. As we turned our mounts, I glanced at Big John as he joined the others in the yard before looking to the group on the veranda. Tucker eyed me with animosity, and when I locked gazes with her she shook her head and turned away. I swallowed hard and steered my horse down the lane, Zeke and I taking positions on the flanks.
I cast a sideways glance at him and contemplated what the future held after the war ended before my thoughts turned to Big John. He had found a happy outcome, but I wondered if such a fantasy would ever be mine. I considered Tucker and Willow and what had transpired. Would they ever concede I was following orders and grant me forgiveness? I doubted Tucker would, as I’d never deemed her the merciful sort, and I assumed once she felt wronged by someone it would be next to impossible to change her mind.
The image of the Confederate soldiers’ lifeless bodies sprang to mind. “How did you miss the opening under the stairs?” I asked Zeke.
“I didn’t.” He kept his eyes on the Confederates bouncing and swaying in the back of the wagon ahead of us. “I figured something was amiss, with the brazen Mrs. Armstrong daring enough to take on a group of Union soldiers,” he said in admiration.
“But her passion for defending her home and land is something we have witnessed often during our foraging expeditions.”
“True, but did you notice how Tucker whispered something to her when she stepped out onto the gallery?”
“I did.”
“I was astonished to discover the place was a wayside station, but upon seeing the dirtied sheets I presumed the injured most likely were still at the plantation. I checked the closet and noticed a slight draft under the false door, but hoping to avoid bloodshed I turned a blind eye. But Conner’s intruding and defying my direct orders…well, you know the outcome.” He grimaced.
“An eventful excursion, to say the least,” I said, dreading hitting the next plantation, and the next, until we had accumulated enough supplies to rejoin our unit.
Willow
FEAR HAD RIPPLED THROUGH SOUTH Carolina in anticipation of General Sherman and his army’s daunting approach. Charleston’s mayor surrendered to the Union Brigadier General Alexander Schimmelfennig, and days later, the news reached us. Several weeks passed before reports arrived that Sherman’s army had bypassed Charleston and plundered Columbia. Reports alleged his army had been wholly responsible for torching the city, but additional accounts contradicted the claims.
In April, General Robert E. Lee surrendered to Union General Ulysses Grant in Virginia, indicating the commencement of the war’s conclusion. Soon after came the astonishing news concerning the assassination of President Lincoln at the Ford’s Theater. While others celebrated his death, Livingston’s folks were disheartened, as I assumed was the case in most parts of the country.
Whitney had returned home with Knox, and Pippa and I waited on news of our husbands. We had begun planting the spring crop, and Jones projected a less than profitable year.
One afternoon after we had finished working the fields, Jones followed me across the work yard to the back veranda. “The fields are too vast to plant with so few hands,” he said after I had climbed the steps.
Sweaty and exhausted from the day’s work, I shifted to face him. A bond had kindled between us since the start of the war, and I’d relied heavily on him, seeking his opinion as one would a confidant. “The same issue we’ve had every year since our situation changed. When my husband and uncle return, we will either hire men or have to reconsider the future livelihood of Livingston.”
He rested his foot on the bottom stair and removed his hat to regarded me grimly. “And if they don’t?”
Tears welled at the possibility. I had to contemplate the subject, whether I liked it or not. “I will figure it out.”
“Marriage is an option you must consider.”
I braced as he said the words. Although the thought had invaded my mind in nights past, I’d shuffled it away.
“You have the little miss to consider.”
“I’m aware,” I said with a heavy heart. “When the dust of this war finally settles, and it doesn’t appear peace has been established between the Union and Confederates yet, I’ll evaluate our assets and properties abroad and take account of our financials as a whole.”
“You hold wisdom far beyond most men. I believe you will find a way. I just worry you may choose the road less journeye
d to avoid marrying.”
“Perhaps in years past I may have, but if our speculation is true…” I shivered at the daunting thought of my husband never returning. “I have to think of my daughter, and I don’t wish for her to grow up without a father.”
“Very well.” He replaced his sweat-stained hat and turned to leave.
“Jones.”
He swung back and eyed me with a somber expression.
“Thank you for being more than a hired hand all these years. Your support has kept me sane.”
He bowed in acknowledgment before turning and striding off.
Inside, I climbed the servant staircase to my chamber and paused outside Pippa’s door when I noticed her sitting at her vanity, weeping. Concern pulled me forward. “Pippa,” I said in a quiet voice. “What is it?”
She glanced at me, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, her clothing and face dirtied from the field. “It’s been a year and a half since I’ve heard from him.”
I went to her side. My own despondency grew at the sight of her sorrow. “I miss him too.”
“I know you do, my darling.” She took my hands in hers and grappled with concealing her anguish. “Why don’t you go freshen up. I will be all right. I had a moment of melancholy, is all.” A loving smile graced her pretty face, burned by the sun.
“Are you sure? I could sit with you for a while,” I said.
She stood and gave me a quick hug before pulling back to look me in the eyes. “You’re a darling daughter.” She cupped my chin before letting her hand drop. “You’ve been so gracious to me, and supported the love between your father and me. You’ve accepted me as a stepmother when you didn’t have to.”
I lowered my gaze. “That is where you are wrong. I needed you.” I choked back the emotions clotting my throat before lifting my eyes. “Ben and I both did.”
Tears dampened her blue eyes, and she gently nodded. “Bless you and that heart of yours.”
I embraced her, and she patted my back. “Now, you go ahead and clean yourself up. I heard a certain someone questioning Henrietta on when you would be returning to the house.” She gave me an extra squeeze before stepping back.
I left her to wash up and changed into a blue frock before returning to the main floor. I followed the nostalgic words of Mammy’s singing to the parlor. My daughter sat on the settee, prattling and playing with a miniature rocking horse Jimmy had carved. I paused on the threshold to admire the beauty of the child and her serene nature. She looked up, and a smile broadened her face before she scrambled off the settee to come and wrap her arms around my legs.
“Mama,” she said with delight, the words muffled in the fabric of my dress.
I capped her head with a hand. “Hello, my darling.”
Mammy’s singing had stopped, and she turned to eye me. “She bin asking for you. She had her eye on de field all day.”
“Would you like to go sit by the pond?” I asked Olivia after she let go and stood peering up at me. Each time she eyed me with the jewel-toned eyes of her father, yearning swelled in my heart for his return.
She enthusiastically bobbed her head.
“Would you like Mammy to join us?”
“Yes!” she squealed happily and spun to race to Mammy’s side.
“Got no time for dillydallying,” Mammy said while allowing Olivia to clasp her hand and guide her toward the corridor. I smiled with amusement as Mammy feigned her protest. I knew as well as she did that she’d become hopelessly enchanted by my daughter. “I got de evening meal to prepare after I git dis parlor finished.”
“Nonsense,” I said with a wave of my hand and turned to walk to the peg holding our bonnets. “Besides,” I said over my shoulder, “you will be disappointed if you don’t join us.”
Moments later, Mammy and I spread a blanket on the ground before settling under the shady canopy of the ancient oak tree. Olivia strode to the edge of the pond and stood sucking her thumb and watching a pair of swans. The melancholy of Jones’s and my earlier conversation rested heavy on my shoulders, and I studied my daughter. What if she never got to meet her father? I had been about her age, or not much older, when my mother had died. I didn’t want that for her.
“What is et, angel gal?”
“I worry about Olivia. I don’t want her to grow up without Bowden. It breaks my heart that he may never meet her.”
Mammy patted my hand where it lay on the blanket between us. “He come home, gal. He come home.”
“But you can’t be certain. I’ve tried to keep the faith alive, but it’s been so long since I’ve received word from him. Men who served under General Lee have returned home in time for the planting season, yet there is no sign of him. And Ben…” My voice broke.
“Don’t despair. De Lard will return dem both to loving arms.” She reiterated the belief she had reassured me with since the onset of the war. “You see…when my man was taken from me, my heart broke, and I believed I’d never see him again, but de Lard, he saw fit to return him to me. Ef a slave can overcome all obstacles to return to his wife’s side, den Masa Bowden and Masa Ben can too. You will see.”
I looked at her, but she kept her gaze pinned on Olivia. “Mary Grace and Magnus hope to leave for England by the end of summer.”
“Et be good for her, I reckon,” she said with a hint of sadness. “I come to accept she got her own life to live. Magnus takes good care of her and de chillum.” She tensed as Olivia stepped closer to the edge of the pond. “Come on now, chile. Come away from de edge ’fore you fall in.”
Olivia walked over to us and paused, pointing behind us. “Horses.”
I craned my neck to look around the tree.
“She right.” Mammy squinted at the lane.
I pulled to my feet. “I will go see what they want.”
I left my daughter in Mammy’s care and strode across the grass to the front yard to await the visitors’ arrival. As they drew closer, my breath caught, but before I could think, the door to the house was flung open.
“Ben!”
I swung to watch Pippa hurry down the front steps, her face alight with unmasked glee. I turned my attention back to the riders and gasped in delight as I recognized the faces of my husband and my father.
“They have returned.” A flash of pink fabric flew by me as Pippa raced for the lane.
Ben reined in his horse, dismounted, and closed the distance between them. He chuckled as Pippa leaped into his arms, and he swung her high in the air.
Overcome with happiness and shock at their arrival, I stood rooted.
“What? No greetings for a weary soldier?” Bowden halted his mount before me, a grin on his face.
I broke into tears as he swung his leg over and dismounted. I rushed forward and crushed him in an embrace. “I can’t believe you’re home. I feared—”
“Do you think I’d allow another man to steal my wife?” he said merrily. He pushed back and cupped my face in his hands before kissing me with a passion that left me breathless and smiling like a blushing bride.
I smoothed back my hair. “I dreamed of the day you would return home. However, in my vision, I was wearing beautiful silks.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
Ben, holding the reins of his horse, his other arm wrapped around Pippa’s shoulders, walked toward us. I broke from the trance of my husband’s presence and went to greet my father.
“Welcome home.” I embraced him.
His arms encircled me, and he held me tight as though not wanting to let me go. After he had I studied his face, seeing the fatigue and age that revealed the hardship he had endured.
“Mama,” a small voice said.
I turned as Mammy and Olivia strolled toward us. I held out my arms, and my daughter raced to me, and I gathered her up.
“Et good to see ya, Masas,” Mammy said.
“And you, Miss Rita,” Ben and Bowden said in unison, but their gazes had fixed on Olivia.
Bowden strode forward, tears dampe
ning his eyes as he glanced from me to our daughter. “Hello, little one.”
She peeked at him from the protective curve of my neck. “Hello,” she said softly.
“Is she a timid child?” Bowden asked, concerned.
“No, she is an observer,” I said. “Olivia, this is your father.” I bent forward to offer her to him, and he cast a nervous glance at me.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to frighten her.”
“It’s all right.” I placed her in his arms, and his jaw quivered with emotion.
Olivia secured an arm around his neck before pushing back to give him a closer inspection. Tears pooled in my eyes as I beheld my daughter in her father’s arms. She lifted small fingers to touch the days-old scruff shadowing his face before a soft smile touched her face.
“When Bowden came to find me, he told me you’d given me a granddaughter,” Ben said with pride as he observed the exchange.
“She has been the light to us all in your absence.” My heart swelled with love and contentment.
He smiled down at me.
“Come, let us all go inside.” Bowden waved to me. I went to him, and he swaddled my shoulders with an arm, and we walked toward the veranda.
“I fix you all somepin’ to eat. Pete,” Mammy said as he rounded the corner of the house, “you go dig up dat bottle of brandy Missus Willow had you bury for dis day.”
“Yes, Miss Rita,” he said and cast a grin at Bowden and Ben. “Welcome home, Masas.”
The men exchanged greetings. “It’s good to see you, Pete,” Bowden said. “I wasn’t sure who’d still be here upon my return.”
“Ain’t but James, Parker, my chillum, Tillie, Miss Rita, and Big John.”
“Children?”
Pete squared his shoulders, his grin growing. “Tillie had another babe while you be gone.”
Bowden thrust out a hand. “Congratulations are in order.”
“And to you.” He accepted Bowden’s hand and nodded his head at Olivia before glancing at the front steps as Mammy turned to scowl at him. “Bes’ git gwine ’fore Miss Rita start shouting.”