by Ginny Dye
“In life?” Abby mused. “Never.” She paused for a long moment. “I used to find that quite distressing. I was certain that if I could only know what was coming, I would be better able to handle the present, and certainly better equipped to handle the future.”
Carrie forgot her pain long enough to ask, “You don’t feel that way anymore?”
“I don’t,” Abby agreed.
Carrie knew Abby wouldn’t expound without an invitation. “Why not?” Learning the answer was suddenly more important than anything else, because Carrie had spent much of the last months certain she would be able to handle her situation better if she could simply know what was coming in the future.
“It takes the fun out of life,” Abby replied gently.
Carrie stared at her silently. “Excuse me?”
“I know you can’t comprehend it now,” Abby said. “You’re hungry for answers because you are trying to make sense of your life, and certainly nothing seems fun now.”
Carrie continued to watch her, hoping that, for once, Abby would tell her what she was trying to say. She didn’t have the energy to press harder.
“None of us knows what is coming,” Abby said. “Life can change as fast as clouds can turn into a thunderstorm. One minute you’re enjoying fluffy white beauty—the next you’re dodging lightning strikes. If you focus on having to know what the future holds, you will always be unhappy because it simply can’t be done.”
“So you just dodge lightning strikes your whole life?” Carrie asked. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, I’m afraid it’s not working.”
“Telling you the truth is not necessarily about making you feel better,” Abby replied gently. “It’s about giving you a foundation to move ahead.”
Carrie considered that for a long moment. “I’m listening.”
“Most people cling to what they know simply because it is familiar. They might be miserable, but at least it is a memory they understand. It seems safer to embrace what they know, than it is to let it go for fear of the unknown.” Abby pressed Carrie’s hand firmly. “I learned a long time ago that I have to keep moving forward, even when there seems to be no place to get to. I had to quit trying to see through time, and live what was in front of me.”
“And you did that?” Carrie asked, desperate to know the answer.
“I did,” Abby answered. “I discovered the greatest adventures of my life occurred when I quit demanding to know all the answers.”
“Like what?”
“Like finding you,” Abby said gently. “Like meeting Rose and Moses, and having them live with me. Marrying your father. Moving to Richmond. The list is so long… When I met you, I could never have imagined all those things would happen. They were complete unknowns.”
Carrie let the words sink into her heart and mind, surprised they brought her a measure of comfort. “You’re telling me there are good things ahead in my life.” She wanted to believe that, but the pain was still too fresh. Yes, she had decided to still become a doctor, but she had no hope of actual joy in her life again. She would do what she could to help people, with the hope that that would be a large enough purpose for living.
Abby nodded, continuing to hold her hand. “I believe there are, Carrie, but my saying that is not going to mean much to you. You lost Robert in a horrible way, and then Bridget.”
Raw pain gripped Carrie when she thought of the little girl she had lost without ever even seeing her curly black hair and rosebud lips. She only knew that much because Abby had held her when she was stillborn.
“You’ve begun to heal, but it is still going to take time,” Abby added. “Deciding you still want to become a doctor is a big step, but now you have to live through each day until things get easier.” She paused. “Part of that will be taking every opportunity for joy that you can find.”
Carrie absorbed that thought as she tried to remember the last time she had felt joy. “The trip to Philadelphia,” she murmured. She could still remember the joy she had felt when she saw Biddy and Faith, discovered Georgia was still alive and living as George, taking part in the grand opening of the factory. It seemed like a different lifetime, but she knew she had actually felt something other than numb pain.
“I know that was the last time you felt joy,” Abby agreed. “The factory is doing well, by the way. Other businesses are searching for buildings in order to take advantage of the labor in Moyamensing. More people will be employed before winter hits.”
“I’m glad,” Carrie said, relieved to know she could at least be sincere in that sentiment. “The people there deserve it.”
“And they have you to thank for it,” Abby added. She held up her hand to stop Carrie’s protest. “I know it took all of us to make it happen, but it took you putting it into action.”
The sound of wagons rumbling in the distance dampened Carrie’s feeling of satisfaction. She was truly glad for the people of Moyamensing, but she mostly wanted to run through the tunnel and hide along the banks of the river. She glanced at the mirror covering the opening, wondering how much her absence would be noticed.
“I believe Robert would want you to ride.”
Carrie spun back to stare at Abby, certain she had heard her wrong. “What?”
Abby met her eyes squarely. “I believe Robert would want you to ride.”
“No,” Carrie snapped, not bothering to hide the anger the suggestion sparked.
“You could ride in tribute to him,” Abby continued, seemingly oblivious to Carrie’s anger. “He was so proud of you last year when you and Amber battled it out for the victory.”
Carrie had a flashing memory of the laughter and pride in his eyes twelve months earlier. She bit back her groan of pain. “No.”
“It would mean the world to Amber,” Abby added. Her voice was firm, but her eyes shone with brilliant sympathy.
Carrie felt the cold knot of anger melt away as pain moved in to replace it. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“I know you don’t want to face the memories,” Abby pressed, “but sometimes the best way to deal with the pain is to replace it with new things to remember.”
“Without Robert?”
“You will never do a thing on Cromwell Plantation without Robert. He is here in everything you do. Every place you go. Every face. Every horse.” Abby took a deep breath. “The day we almost lost you, Robert told you to come back. Do you honestly think he meant for you to give up your life—to choose to live without joy? Is that the kind of love he had for you?”
Not too long ago, Carrie would have lashed out in anger if anyone had dared to question her actions. Now she could at least face it and try to honestly respond to the questions. Silence hung in the room for a long time as she struggled with what to do. She knew Abby would give her all the time she needed.
Laughter filtered in the window as early arrivals unloaded their wagons. Annie and Polly had been cooking for days, but every family coming for the tournament had been doing the same. No one would return home hungry that day.
Carrie almost managed a smile as she thought of how fun the Harvest Festival had been the year before. Her smile faltered as she realized anew that she would never see Robert’s laughing eyes again. She would never feel his strong arms wrapped around her. She would never hear him telling her how proud he was of her. The last thought stopped her. Robert had been so proud of her. He had loved her so much. Truly, if he had asked her to stay, it was only because he believed she could be happy without him. She still very much doubted that would be true, but she understood she had to try. She nodded as she forced words beyond her frozen throat. “I will ride.”
*****
Rose was on the porch when Carrie stepped out, clad in breeches. Rose raised her brow. “I’m riding in the tournament,” Carrie revealed, understanding the flash of surprise and happiness in her best friend’s eyes.
“I’m glad,” Rose said. The look on her face revealed what her words did not.
Carrie came to sta
nd beside Rose as more wagons rolled down the road. They were not needed right away. Moses’ men were directing everyone where to go as children spilled from the wagons and spread out over the lawn laughing and running. Women headed toward the shade of the red and orange-leafed trees to spread their blankets. The night had been cool, and had indeed deposited a layer of glimmering frost, but it had melted away quickly and the day promised to deliver Indian summer-warmth.
“You’ve been home two weeks,” Rose stated. “I missed you so much while you were away in Kansas.”
Carrie reached down to grasp her hand. She knew Rose was really talking about how much she would miss her when they both left the plantation in January to pursue their education. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
Rose squeezed her hand. “I’m so excited you are still going to be a doctor, but I think I’ve been on the plantation so long I’m afraid to leave,” she said with her characteristic honesty. “My decision to stay when Robert died was so easy. This decision is much harder.”
“Nonsense,” Carrie said firmly.
“I’m serious,” Rose insisted, her eyes still trained on the arriving wagons.
Carrie knew Rose was afraid to look at her because the tears would come. Now was not the time for the two friends to be sobbing on the porch together. “I know you are, but it is still nonsense,” Carrie repeated. “I know you are going to miss me—maybe as much as I’ll miss you. You’ll miss the plantation. You’ll miss everyone you’re leaving behind. You’ll miss all your students, and all you’ve accomplished, but you’ve dreamed of this for years. It’s your turn, Rose.”
“But what if I’m being selfish?” Rose persisted.
Rose’s rigid stance and the tight clench of her hand told Carrie just how scared she was. “Selfish to become the best teacher possible so that you can help more students? How is that selfish?”
“I’m doing that here,” Rose said in a trembling voice. “What about all my students? Both black and white?” She turned to Carrie, her eyes burning brightly. “Did you know I am teaching almost one hundred adults two evenings a week? The men are busy in the fields so it is all women.” Her voice took on a tone of disbelief. “Black and white women studying together. I never thought I would see such a thing. How can I leave that?”
“Don’t,” Carrie answered, knowing Rose would continue to argue if she resisted. It was time for another tactic.
Rose stiffened even more. “What do you mean? Don’t go? Don’t go to college? How can I not go?”
“Who exactly do you need permission from?” Carrie asked, deliberately keeping her voice bland.
Rose read the expression on her face and laughed. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
“I believe that would be an accurate assessment.”
Rose chuckled. “You have always known how to get me back on track.”
Carrie’s eyes filled with tears as Rose’s face crumpled with sadness. She wiped them away. “We are not doing this,” she proclaimed. “Neither of us is going anywhere until January. We are not going to cry our way through the next two and a half months.” Her voice became almost desperate as she thought about it. “I’ve cried so many tears…” she murmured.
“I’m so sorry, Carrie. Of course you’re right. There will be no tears,” she said apologetically. We will celebrate every minute of our time together.”
Amber appeared in the door of the barn. “Are you coming, Carrie?” she hollered. “Granite thinks you have forgotten him.”
Carrie was cutting short the time she needed to get him ready for the tournament. She gave Rose a hard hug and then stepped back. “I have a tournament to win,” she announced. “For Robert.”
Chapter Two
Moses was waiting when Simon’s wagon pulled into place, followed closely by Perry, Louisa, and Nathan’s wagon. Both wagons were stuffed full of blankets and baskets of food. Moses eyed the wagons, and then looked at Louisa and his sister June with a raised brow. “The two of you do all that cooking?”
“God forbid!” Louisa said with a merry laugh. “I made a few things, but mostly I just helped fill the wagons with the cooking all the other women did. The men finished the work around the plantation while the women worked miracles. I don’t believe I’ve ever smelled so many good things at one time!” Her eyes were bright with excitement. “It won’t be long before we’ll be ready to host a Harvest Festival at Blackwell Plantation. Then we can take turns.” The pride in her voice was unmistakable as her blue eyes rested on her husband.
Perry nodded. “She’s right.” Then he looked south. “The men are riding over in a few minutes. Their wives are not far behind us in another couple wagons. This was the only way to get all the food here. I don’t know what in the world will happen to all of it.”
Moses smiled, choosing not to comment on the fact that all Simon’s men were riding separately so they could take their turns keeping watch for vigilantes. It’s not that every single person in attendance didn’t know there was a risk—there was just no reason to focus on it. They were here to have a good time, not be afraid of what might happen. “Don’t you worry. You won’t take one morsel of that back home with you. I’ve never seen a Harvest Festival when every bite wasn’t eaten.”
Perry looked dubious. “Then I hope the wagons going back are bigger than the ones coming in because every person is going to go home larger than they came.”
“Simon! Nathan!”
Moses laughed as John’s shrill cry blasted through the noise surrounding them. “I do believe my son is eager to see his friends.”
Simon Jr. and Nathan leapt out of the wagons, Nathan’s bright blond hair and fair skin a perfect foil for Simon’s glistening black skin and curls. “John!” they yelled simultaneously.
“I swear, that boy gets bigger every time I see him,” June exclaimed. “And the last time was only two weeks ago. At this rate, your son will be even bigger than you are.”
“That’s what Mama says,” Moses agreed with a proud grin.
Simon watched the boys run off together, their delight showing in their gleeful laughter. “Being that big isn’t always a good thing,” he said quietly.
Moses sobered instantly as he thought of all the times his size had done nothing but make him more of a target. He forced himself to take a deep breath, fighting back the fear he battled on a regular basis. “You can’t change what is.”
Simon was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Moses. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No sense in not saying something that is true,” Moses replied, forcing himself to speak lightly.
Louisa and June moved off in the direction of the other women as Perry walked over to join Thomas, who had just appeared on the porch. Moses and Simon remained where they were, aware this would be the only time all day they would have an opportunity to talk.
“Did you ever think you would see all those women in one place?” Simon asked, his eyes narrowed with something close to disbelief.
“Black and white?” Moses shook his head. “No. I never quit being amazed at what Rose has accomplished. Those women aren’t just in the same place—a lot of them have become friends. Learning together seems to have broken down some mighty big walls. But still…I never dreamed I would see this in my lifetime.” He watched as the women worked together to lay out blankets and distribute mountains of food on the tables built for the occasion.
“It didn’t hurt any that their husbands protected the school from being burned down,” Simon observed.
Moses flinched, hating any reminder of the night Robert had been murdered. “Yep,” was all he could manage.
Simon changed the subject. “I hear Carrie is back.”
“She came home two weeks ago.” Moses was glad to leave the topic of Robert’s murder.
“June came home saying she has decided to be a doctor after all.”
“That’s true.” Moses knew Simon was leading up to something, but he would have to wait to find out what it was
. His friend couldn’t be hurried.
“So she is going back to school?”
“Seems to me it is the only way she can become a doctor,” Moses said wryly.
Simon’s voice grew more serious. “So you and Rose will be leaving soon? It’s time for both of you to go to college?”
Moses nodded, pushing back the uncomfortable feeling that clogged his throat. “That’s right. We’re planning on leaving in early January.” He knew Simon had finally brought the conversation around to what he wanted to say.
“Without anyone here to run the place?” Simon asked. “How you gonna do that, Moses?”
Moses wondered the same thing every day. “I have no idea,” he said honestly. “But I’ve seen a lot of things happen in the last seven years that I couldn’t ever imagine happening. I figure if we’re supposed to go to college, then somebody is going to show up.”
Simon watched him closely. “You don’t seem real worried.”
Moses shrugged again. “I’ve never known it to help.”
“And Rose?”
“She’s got her own things to think about. We’re both trying to take it one day at a time.”
Simon stared off into the woods for a long minute. “What if you don’t find anyone?”
Moses watched him but remained silent. He knew there was more his brother-in-law wanted to say.
“You want me to come back?”
Moses stared at him. “What?”
Simon held his gaze. “Do you want me to come back?” he repeated.
“I would never ask you to do that.”
“What if you weren’t asking?”
“Are you unhappy at Blackwell Plantation, Simon?”
“Not at all,” Simon said quickly. “I’m real happy there, and good things are happening.”