Walking Into The Unknown (# 10 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series)

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Walking Into The Unknown (# 10 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) Page 8

by Ginny Dye


  “Carrie?” Abby’s voice was worried. “Moses and his friend Franklin are getting what you need. Are you sure you can do this?”

  Carrie pushed aside the fatigue. “I can do this,” she said reassuringly. “Where are the rest of the men?”

  “Out front guarding the clinic.”

  Carrie nodded and slipped in the room, Abby close behind her. “Hello, Chooli,” she said gently. “I am Carrie Borden.”

  “The doctor?” Chooli asked, her face twisted with pain as another labor spasm claimed her slender body.

  “That’s right,” Carrie answered, glad the time was coming soon when she would have the credentials behind her proclamation. She assessed her patient swiftly. “It looks like this baby is right on time. Is it your first?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  Carrie smiled soothingly. “I can’t say it will be fun, but women were made tough enough to handle the pain. I’ll help you through it.”

  “Franklin knows?” Chooli asked anxiously. “His baby.”

  “He knows,” she assured the girl. “He and Moses are getting the supplies I need.” A soft knock at the door signaled their arrival. Once the hot water and rags were in the room, she sprang into action. “Let’s see how close this baby is to making its appearance.”

  Chooli grabbed her hand. “You are a mother?”

  Carrie stiffened as memories shot through her body. She knew Chooli was asking her if she understood the pain of birth, but she wasn’t going to tell the frightened young woman what had happened with her delivery. “I’m not, but I have brought many little ones into the world,” she answered. Carrie swallowed back the tears that threatened to blur her eyes. She would always be Bridget’s mother, but right now her only job was to instill confidence.

  Abby stepped forward. “You couldn’t be in better hands, Chooli,” she said warmly.

  Chooli relaxed measurably as she locked her eyes on Abby’s kind face. “Thank you.” Her eyes said she was hiding many secrets, but now was not the time to delve into them.

  Carrie completed her examination quickly, relieved beyond words that there didn’t seem to be a problem. Perhaps there would be one event in this endless night that wouldn’t be full of drama. “Everything looks perfect,” she said as she looked into Chooli’s determined eyes. “I don’t think it will be long.”

  *****

  Moses glanced at the closed door and then turned back to Franklin. “There is nothing we can do but wait. Perhaps you should tell me a little more about why you deserted from the army.”

  Franklin shrugged. “I couldn’t do it anymore. What America is doing to the Indians out West is completely wrong. Especially the Navajo. Bosque Redondo is worse than any place I ever seen. I hated being a slave, but at least I had food and a place to sleep. More than eight thousand Navajo are crowded onto the reservation. Many of them don’t even have shelter. There was nothing built for them, and there are no trees to build homes, so they dug pits into the earth and covered them with branches.” His eyes narrowed. “The only reason Chooli is not skin and bones is because she was living with me as my housekeeper. My commander didn’t know she was pregnant. I made sure she ate, but her family is another matter,” he said bitterly. “Her parents and grandparents have barely enough to keep them alive. I got everything to them I could, but it wasn’t enough. They knew I was trying, but it was killing me.”

  Moses listened, letting Franklin tell the story his way.

  “When we realized Chooli was pregnant, she told her parents. They insisted she should leave. It almost broke her heart to leave her family behind, but we all knew it was the only way to save her and the baby.”

  “Was it hard to get away?”

  Franklin shrugged. “Navajo were marched almost three hundred miles to the reservation from their tribal homelands. It started four years ago.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe this was going on when we were fighting a war to keep our country together and free the slaves. Anyway,” he continued, “hundreds died along the way. Hundreds more women and children were stolen as slaves before they ever reached Bosque Redondo.” His eyes flashed with anger. “Chooli has two younger brothers and a sister. They were both stolen by raiding New Mexicans during the march. They are being used as slaves somewhere.” Franklin shook his head heavily. “The Navajo tried to make a life there because their homelands were destroyed, but the conditions are horrible, and many have died. In the last year, thousands of them have simply run away. There are not enough soldiers to keep them there.”

  “So you just left?” Moses tried to absorb what he was hearing.

  “That’s right,” Franklin answered. “Right after a few hundred of the Navajo disappeared into the night, my commander sent a large battalion of soldiers after them. I wasn’t chosen for that mission. I took a couple horses, loaded them with all I could, and departed in the middle of the night.”

  “When?”

  Franklin hesitated. “The beginning of April.”

  Moses stared at him. “Six months? It’s taken you six months to get here?”

  “It took a little over three months to travel the Santa Fe Trail, and then I didn’t have money to take the train. I could have sold the horses, but I figured we might need them. I wanted so much to have Chooli here long before she gave birth,” he said with a scowl. “The Santa Fe Trail is bad at any time, but having to travel at night made it harder. We had to watch out for everyone. The soldiers using that trail would have known I was a deserter because I was with Chooli. There was just as much danger from other Indian tribes. There are a lot of them that don’t get along too good out there.”

  Moses shook his head. “I don’t know anything about the Indians,” he admitted.

  Matthew walked in the door in time to hear his statement. “You and most Americans,” he commented. “And what they think they know is probably all wrong.”

  Franklin looked searchingly at Matthew. “You’re the red-headed reporter who kept showing up during the war.”

  Matthew smiled and shook Franklin’s hand. “Guilty as charged. My name is Matthew Justin.”

  Moses explained briefly about Chooli. “Everything all right outside?”

  “Yes. Simon came to report that all your men’s families got home safely. They took Rose back to the house to be with the children. He is outside with some more of his men to make sure nothing happens.”

  “I don’t think the cowards who left them are coming back,” Moses growled. “It’s not that I want them to return, but to leave them there to die is harsh.”

  Matthew nodded. “They don’t appear to be a compassionate lot. Besides, we don’t know what happened with the other men who were wounded. They could be trying to keep them alive.”

  “We’ll probably never know,” Moses growled. “It’s all such a waste.”

  “A waste?” Franklin asked, but his eyes were glued to the door Chooli was sequestered behind.

  Moses managed a smile when he saw the look on his friend’s face. “Silence is a good thing. If you don’t hear screaming and wailing, it means it is probably going to be an easy birth.”

  Franklin leaned back against his chair. “I know you’re right. It’s just that Chooli has been through so much during the trip here.”

  “You made it before she gave birth,” Matthew reminded him.

  “My sister, June, gave birth to little Simon deep in the woods when I was helping her escape,” Moses added. “It was a nightmare. You did good to get her here, Franklin.”

  Franklin nodded. “I reckon you’re right.” He forced his eyes away from the door and returned to their earlier conversation. “What is a waste?”

  Moses scowled as his anger flared. “All of it. We fought a war that killed huge numbers of men on either side. It’s supposed to be over, but it seems we’re still fighting. Sure felt like it tonight. We were waging a military campaign. I don’t have any reason to believe it is going to end. I’m sick of all of it.”

  Matthew eyed him
with sympathy. “I know how you feel, Moses, but at least you and Rose are going to do something to change things.”

  “How’s that?” Franklin asked.

  “Moses is going to college to become a lawyer. Rose is studying to become an educator.”

  “A lawyer?” Franklin asked. “I know Rose been a teacher for a long time, so that makes sense, but we never talked about you being a lawyer. All you could talk about was having a farm of your own someday. Seem to remember that’s what kept you going during the war.”

  Moses sighed. “I know.” He did not want to have this conversation.

  Franklin didn’t share his feelings. “Why a lawyer?”

  Moses shrugged. “So I can help make things better for my people.” He tried to remember all the reasons he had thought this was a good idea. “It’s going to take educated blacks to change things. We have to fight to change the laws if things are going to be different.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you don’t seem real excited about that.”

  “I didn’t realize excitement was a requirement,” Moses snapped as his exhaustion caught up with him. He held up a hand in apology. “I’m sorry.”

  “No problem,” Franklin said.

  “You can’t leave until you find someone to run the plantation anyway,” Matthew offered.

  “You run Cromwell Plantation?” Franklin asked.

  Moses took a deep breath. “I own half of it,” he revealed. “Rose is Thomas Cromwell’s half-sister. He gave me half the plantation not too long after the war ended. Thomas and Abby own a factory in Richmond, while I handle operations out here.”

  Franklin sat back and stared at him. “You own half of Cromwell Plantation?” His voice was one of stunned disbelief. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I don’t really care if you do or not,” Moses replied wearily.

  Franklin turned to look at Matthew.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Matthew assured him. “A lot has changed in the last couple years.”

  Franklin swung back to stare at Moses. “That why the Ku Klux Klan did what they did tonight? They can’t be too happy with the way things be around here.”

  “They’re not,” Moses said, gazing at the closed door. “Carrie Borden—the woman helping Chooli right now—is Thomas Cromwell’s daughter. Her husband, Robert, was killed here on the plantation by KKK vigilantes this spring. This is the first time they have come back.”

  He was saved from having to say any more when Janie and Polly stepped into the room.

  “The two men will survive,” Janie said quietly.

  Moses remained silent, not wanting to reveal that he would have been perfectly all right with hearing both had died.

  Matthew’s question revealed he felt the same way. “How long before they can ride back to wherever they came from?”

  Polly stared at him. “Put them men on a horse and they’ll be dead before they get very far.”

  Moses reluctantly accepted they were his responsibility. “Can we put them in a wagon and have a group of the white fathers take them home? Are they conscious?”

  “Neither are conscious,” Janie answered. “I don’t know how long before they will be. I’m not happy about it either, but we’re stuck with them for at least two days. By then, if they have woken up and told us where they live, we can have a wagon transport them home. If,” she added, “it seems safe to do that. The KKK is not any happier with the white men than they are with you. There has been enough bloodshed.”

  Once she had made her pronouncement, she inclined her head toward the other closed door. “The woman?”

  Moses nodded. “Her name is Chooli. She is giving birth.”

  Polly smiled. “Death and birth, all on the same night. My mama told me that be a good sign. It shows that the cycle of life never changes. No matter how bad things get, we just got to wait for a new beginning. Babies be God’s way of saying He ain’t given up on the world quite yet.”

  “Chooli,” Janie murmured tiredly. “That’s a beautiful name.”

  Moses smiled and answered her unspoken question. “Chooli is Navajo.” A lusty cry from behind the closed door saved him from a lengthy explanation.

  Franklin leapt up and moved closer to the door. “Is that my child?” he asked hoarsely.

  Janie smiled. “I do believe it is.” She walked to the door. “I’ll let you know something soon.”

  *****

  Carrie glanced up with a weary smile as Janie walked in the door. She finished cutting the umbilical cord and then handed the infant to her friend. “Will you clean her up?”

  Janie reached for the baby eagerly.

  Carrie turned to Abby. “Will you tell everyone there is a new little girl in the world? And that she has a very brave mother?”

  “Absolutely. I’m glad something good has come from this tragic night,” Abby replied.

  Chooli smiled tenderly as Abby left the room, not removing her eyes from her daughter as Janie cleaned her with warm water and rags. “She is healthy?”

  “She’s perfect,” Carrie said. Knowing she had helped bring this beautiful little girl into the world somewhat eased the pain of Bridget’s death. She knew now that she had not been responsible for her daughter’s death, but successfully delivering Chooli’s baby provided a measure of redemption. “Have you decided on a name?”

  Chooli nodded. “Franklin say all right I give her a Navajo name.” She frowned slightly. “It will make things harder for her.”

  “There’s time to worry about that later,” Carrie said. “What is her name?”

  “Ajei,” Chooli answered. She reached out to draw her daughter close to her bosom after Janie had finished wrapping her in a blanket. “Her name is Ajei,” she crooned. “My heart.” She gazed down lovingly. “Hello, Ajei. You are here. You are my heart.”

  Carrie blinked back tears. “Ajei. It’s a beautiful name, Chooli. And now it’s time to get some rest,” she added with a warm smile. “You definitely earned some sleep.”

  Chooli shook her head. “Franklin see daughter.”

  As if on cue, the door opened. Franklin gazed into the room, Moses and Matthew pressed close behind him.

  “Franklin!” Chooli cried. “Come see. We have child.”

  Franklin, his face filled with awe, walked to the bed. He stared down a moment and then held out his arms. Chooli lifted the girl and placed her in his waiting arms. “Hello, little one,” he said gruffly. He carefully inspected her dark face and curly black hair. He pulled back the blanket to count all her fingers and toes. Finally, he looked up. “She’s perfect,” he whispered. “The trip didn’t hurt her.”

  “We Navajo women are strong,” Chooli said proudly. “I told you it be all right.”

  Moses didn’t miss the flash of pain that darkened her already black eyes, but she had a smile on her face again when Franklin looked down. He knew without asking that Chooli was missing her family back in New Mexico.

  *****

  Moses had only slept for a couple hours, but he was up and mounted on Champ before the sun had topped the trees. The shimmering rays caused the oaks and maples s to burst into even more brilliant red, yellow and orange. A light layer of frost glistened over everything, as a low mist danced across the treetops. Vibrant patches of goldenrod blended with purple aster. He took in deep breaths, loving the feel of being up on such a peaceful morning. He closed his eyes as he thought about having to leave, and then forced them open again. He was not going to dwell on what was coming. They were sending the final shipment of tobacco today. That was enough to occupy his thoughts.

  Distant sounds reminded him the families from Blackwell Plantation were still down in the cabins first lived in by his own men. Seasonal field hands occupied most of them now, but there had been enough empty ones to provide crowded shelter for everyone. Wood smoke wafted through the air, the smell of bacon not far behind.

  His men would soon arrive at the tobacco barns to load the last shipment in
to the wagons. Moses wasn’t going to take any chances with the delivery. Normally, he would send each wagon with two drivers and then go about his business with no concerns the tobacco would make it to its destination. This morning, the eight wagons going into Richmond would be surrounded by all but a handful of his men, who would be left behind to guard the plantation. He hated how easily he planned each day as if it were a military campaign, but he had no choice. Everyone would be exhausted by the end of another grueling day, but he also suspected his men would be eagerly waiting for him at the tobacco barns.

  “You want some company?” Franklin strode out on the porch behind him. He smiled at Moses. “I never slept in a white man’s house before,” he drawled. “I left Chooli and Ajei sleeping peacefully. I heard you get up and figured now would be a good time to talk to you.”

  “I’m heading out. You want to join me?”

  “Give me a few minutes to get Chancellor ready.”

  Moses nodded, thinking through the day while he waited for Franklin to saddle his gray gelding. The horse probably wasn’t the finest the army had, but he imagined they had been more than aware that the gelding and the tall chestnut mare Chooli had ridden in on were missing. They would have been less than pleased, especially if they figured out what had happened. They rode for several minutes before Moses spoke. “You finally going to tell me what you are doing here?”

  “You didn’t consider I might just drop by since I was in the area?”

  Moses stared at him pointedly.

  Franklin smiled. “I was heading here when I left New Mexico.”

  “Why?”

  “I figured you would be doing what you are doing. Raising tobacco.”

  Every word was only confusing Moses more, so he was just going to wait and see where this conversation was headed. He continued to trot evenly down the road that split the tobacco fields. It was always odd to see an empty expanse stretching as far as the eye could see after a long summer of watching the tobacco grow, but he knew the results would once again alter his financial situation.

 

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