by Ginny Dye
Carrie peeked into the parlor, thrilled to see the Christmas tree in its place, towering tall enough to touch the fourteen-foot ceiling. She smiled when she remembered the hordes of children who used to decorate the tree. Her smile faded quickly as she wondered what had happened to all the slave children from Cromwell. She prayed they were safe and warm somewhere, finding a way to live the life of freedom they had been granted.
Felicia looked up and caught sight of her. “Carrie! Come in and help us decorate!”
Carrie nodded but turned toward the kitchen. “As soon as I get some of whatever smells so good,” she replied. “I’m starving.”
Anthony walked out of the kitchen just then. “I do believe you eat more than I do,” he said good-naturedly.
Carrie eyed him with a smirk. “Which only goes to prove that I work much harder than you do, city boy.” She shrugged. “Of course, I already knew that.”
Anthony chuckled. “I counted. I cleaned out ten of the stalls today. You only did eight.”
“Because I also fed all the horses,” Carrie protested.
Anthony shook his head. “Which is far easier than mucking stalls,” he pointed out. “I did the extra stalls because I knew the doctor lady was feeling weak.”
Abby stepped from the dining room. “Do you two ever let up?” she asked with a laugh.
“You can’t feed a man’s ego by letting him think he has won,” Carrie said primly. “I know it is proper Southern protocol to give them a sense of victory, but I say they have to earn it. So far, I don’t think Anthony has.”
Abby laughed harder and reached out to squeeze Anthony’s shoulder. “She’s a hard nut to crack, city boy.”
“City boy?” Anthony echoed. “You’re going to label me with that ridiculous moniker, as well?”
Abby shrugged. “I’m just evening the scales. You seem to have pulled Annie, Amber, and Marietta over to your side. The Cromwell women have to stick together.”
Carrie grinned and reached over to pluck Abby’s hand from Anthony’s shoulder, tucking it through her elbow. “I say the Cromwell women go find out what smells so good.”
Amber blasted through the kitchen door then. “It’s sugar cookies!” she cried, balancing a heaping plate as she moved toward the parlor.
Carrie reached out a hand, but Amber dodged away with a laugh.
“You only get sugar cookies if you help decorate,” she insisted. “We need help, Carrie. Come on!”
Carrie followed obediently. “I’ll do anything for Annie’s sugar cookies.”
“They are not Annie’s sugar cookies,” Marietta announced, as she stepped from the kitchen, her apron and cheeks smudged with flour. “I made them.”
Carrie froze in place. “Are they safe?”
Marietta glared at her, and then called into the parlor, “Carrie has dared to question my cooking. She is not allowed to have any cookies!”
Carrie turned away. “Sorry, Amber. If I don’t get any cookies, I’m not going to help.”
“Wait!” Amber cried. “Miss Marietta, we need help real bad in here. How about if I give Carrie the cookies I was going to eat?”
Marietta pretended to consider the question, and then grinned. “I suppose that will be acceptable.”
The banter continued as Carrie grabbed a handful of cookies and began to hang decorations on the tree. She beckoned Anthony to join them. “We need your height,” she pleaded.
Anthony cocked his head. “I’m supposed to help with the yule log,” he protested.
“They don’t need your help,” Carrie replied. “Moses used to carry it in here all by himself years ago. He has Jeremy and my father to help him.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Please?” She hid her grin as she batted her eyelashes, well aware of the effect she would have on him.
Anthony gazed at her appraisingly, a slight warning light in his eyes, but then nodded and moved into the parlor. “Tree decorating, it is.”
Carrie knew she was playing with fire, but it had been so long since she’d felt like teasing and flirting. She hadn’t taken the time to analyze her feelings; she was simply having a good time. She laughed and joked with the children as they decorated the tree. When they finally stood back to appreciate their labors, Carrie sucked in her breath.
“It’s beautiful,” Felicia whispered.
“Pretty!” Hope squealed.
“Now, it’s Christmas,” Amber said, deep satisfaction in her voice.
“I bet it’s the best Christmas tree ever,” John boasted.
Carrie couldn’t have agreed more. With the exception of the war years, Christmas on Cromwell Plantation was all she had ever known. Each year brought its own kind of magic. As she grew older, she became increasingly grateful for the Christmas traditions that didn’t change, no matter what the world threw at them. She closed her eyes as she thought of Robert, her mother, Old Sarah, Sam… Their faces, now claimed by death, would forever hold their place in her Christmas memories. There were so many things from the past that she wanted to sink her roots into, never letting them go, but she was also keenly aware she needed to continue to release the pain still lingering in her heart so that she could look to the future.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Anthony said quietly.
Carrie opened her eyes and gazed into the green ones watching her. Flashes of Robert’s eyes overlaid Anthony’s, but she refused to look away. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, and she certainly had no idea what she intended to do with any knowledge once she had it, but she could no longer deny she was attracted to Anthony Wallington. The acknowledgement was a source of both comfort and deep confusion.
Anthony gazed at her steadily, seeming to read her feelings, but he remained silent.
Carrie thought back again to their conversation a year earlier. Anthony was keeping his promise to be a friend. She’d certainly had a wonderful two weeks with him, but she was uncertain how to act on the feelings that fluttered through her. She was certain Anthony would step out of the role of friend if she were to offer him the slightest encouragement, but it would be unfair to do that when she was still so confused. She smiled, but kept her voice neutral. “I’m just glad everyone is here for Christmas.”
Anthony was careful to keep his expression as neutral as her voice, but she didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. It made her more certain than ever that she owed him nothing less than complete honesty.
Abby appeared in the doorway. “Everyone wash up for dinner. Annie says it’s almost ready.”
Carrie, relieved at the reprieve, dashed up the stairs to freshen up. She changed out of her barn breeches and into an emerald green gown, then undid her long braid and carefully coiled it into a bun. She stared at her reflection for a long moment, recognizing the shine in her eyes. She bowed her head as she thought of Robert. What would he think of her if he knew she was attracted to another man? She struggled with the question, but tossed it aside with a sigh. It was time for Christmas Eve dinner.
*****
Rose was waiting outside for Carrie when she emerged from the house later that night. “Hello,” she said quietly.
Carrie jumped. “Rose? What are you doing out here? I thought you had gone upstairs with the children.”
“I did,” Rose replied, “but then I came back down when you were still in the dining room.”
Carrie wished she could see Rose’s eyes, but she didn’t detect trouble in her voice. Still… “Is everything all right?”
“That’s what I came to find out.”
Carrie was completely puzzled now. “What are you talking about?”
Rose answered with another question. “Are you headed out to the barn?”
“Yes. I decided to check on the horses one more time before I go to bed.”
“Checking on the horses, or needing some time to think?” Rose asked.
Carrie should have known Rose would sense the turmoil she thought she had concealed so well. She tucked her hands deep into her
coat pockets, and then walked down the steps, Rose at her side. “Both, I suppose,” she admitted.
“Anthony?”
Carrie managed a small smile, sure the full moon resting high in the sky would reveal it. “Anthony,” she agreed.
Rose remained silent until they reached the barn and lit some lanterns. She joined Carrie as she checked all the stalls, speaking quietly to the horses, and then walked over to sit down on a large trunk. “Talk to me,” she invited.
Carrie sank down on the trunk next to her, trying to make sense of her thoughts. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about it, although she was sure Rose would help her figure it out. It had always been that way, and she didn’t expect it was going to change. She sat silently for several minutes, knowing Rose wouldn’t rush her. “I like Anthony,” she began.
“That’s easy to see,” Rose replied.
Carrie flushed, not sure she was comfortable with that realization, but acknowledging she had never been good at hiding her feelings – especially from her best friend. She grappled with what to say next.
“It’s Robert,” Rose prodded.
Carrie was grateful to Rose for putting it into words. “Robert was my love,” she said, blinking back hot tears. Just saying his name brought his face vividly to mind.
“And you were his,” Rose murmured. “He loved you so much, Carrie. Do you really think he would want you to be alone?”
Carrie shrugged. “Isn’t that what people always say when they’re trying to justify a new relationship?” she asked in a flat voice. She realized too late that she had as much as admitted she was considering a new relationship. It wouldn’t do any good to try to hide the truth, because Rose could always see through her attempts at subterfuge.
“I don’t know,” Rose replied. “If the roles were reversed, would you want Robert to be alone?”
Carrie shook her head. “How can I know that? I’m not the one who is dead.” She knew she was being deliberately contrary, but she was also speaking honestly.
Rose chuckled. “So, let’s pretend you’re the one who died. What do you think you would want?”
Carrie sighed. “I know I should say I wouldn’t want him to be alone, but perhaps I’m selfish enough that I would want him to pine for me all the days of his life.”
Rose remained silent.
“Fine,” Carrie grumbled. “I wouldn’t want him to be alone,” she admitted. “But that’s not the only thing I’m struggling with in regard to Anthony.”
“What else?” Rose asked.
“I suppose I might be ready for love again someday, but right now I want to focus on being a doctor. I don’t want any restrictions or expectations from anyone else,” she blurted. “I loved Robert with all my heart, and I would give anything if he were still here, but I’ll admit it made choices about my career more challenging. The months on the Santa Fe Trail showed me how much I truly love being a doctor.” She took a deep breath, her thoughts crystallizing as she spoke them. “I’m looking forward to going to Philadelphia to establish the clinic Biddy financed. And after that?” Carrie shrugged. “I don’t know what comes after that, but I find the freedom to make whatever choices I want to make is quite exhilarating.”
Rose listened carefully. “You don’t care about a husband or a family?”
Carrie hesitated, knowing Rose’s whole world revolved around Moses and her children. “If Robert and Bridget were alive, I would take joy in creating a life with them at the center.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “They’re not alive,” she said huskily. “I don’t feel the need to enter another relationship just for the sake of having one. I know that is the proper thing for a woman to do, but there are many more single women in recent years because so many men were lost during the war.” Her thoughts flew to Susan. “Being single won’t carry the same stigma.” She smiled tightly. “Not that I’ve ever been known to let that bother me. I have a whole future stretching out before me. This time last year, I was struggling to find reasons to stay alive. I’ve come a long way since then.”
Carrie stood and then paced over to stand beside Granite’s stall. He stuck his nose out and bumped her shoulder, nuzzling her. She patted his neck absently before she turned back to Rose. “I want to see how far I can go,” she declared. “Is that so wrong?” she added defensively. “Is that so horrible?”
Rose looked at her for a long minute. “I’m very proud of you,” she finally said.
Carrie stared at her. “What?”
“I said, I’m very proud of you,” Rose repeated. “You’ve been through something that would have broken many people—not just women, but many men, too. You have fought your way through to a position of strength.” She smiled. “Not many people could have done that, so yes, I’m very proud of you.”
Carrie breathed a heavy sigh of relief and returned to the trunk to sit next to her friend. “Thank you.”
Rose reached out to take her hand. They sat silently for a long time before they finally walked back through the deep snow and entered the house that was now quiet and dark.
Chapter Eight
January 1, 1869
Rose was sitting on the bank of the James River with Carrie, Abby, and Felicia, celebrating the arrival of 1869. Felicia had begged to be able to join them. Carrie and Abby had both agreed readily.
“So, am I a Cromwell woman now?” Felicia asked earnestly, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she caught her breath after several minutes of wild dancing on the snowy riverbank with the other women. She had required some coaxing, but had joined in eagerly when she discovered it was part of the tradition.
Abby nodded. “You are indeed, my dear. You know, I’ve only been a part of this tradition for a couple years.”
Felicia smiled. “I know. Mama and Carrie have been doing it since they were younger than me.” She turned to Rose. “Except for the war years. Right, Mama?”
“That’s right,” Rose agreed, catching Carrie’s eyes over the top of her daughter’s head. She knew what they both were thinking—that they were thrilled to be passing the tradition down through the generations. She wondered how long it would be possible for Cromwell women to celebrate the New Year together. What did the future hold for all of them?
The four of them sat silently as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The snow-covered ground and the laden trees glimmered in the sun. Rose had been granted her wish for more snow; at least a foot blanketed the ground, but a warm breeze blowing in from the south promised it would melt away in time for them to leave for Richmond in two days.
“It’s going to be a good year,” Abby said softly.
Rose turned, remembering the question that had been gnawing at her since they had arrived at the plantation. “Abby, may I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“When we were driving into the plantation two weeks ago, you mentioned that now was not the right time to walk away from Cromwell Factories. There was something in your eyes that I didn’t understand. Will you tell me what it was?”
Abby eyed her with surprise. “You’ve been thinking about that all this time?”
“It’s just been niggling at my brain. I kept pushing it back because of all the celebrations, but I thought about it again when you said it was going to be a good year.”
“You want to leave the factory?” Carrie interrupted, her eyes wide with surprise. “Since when?”
Abby shrugged. “I’ve worked very hard for a long time. So has your father. We talk often about how wonderful it would be to move back to the plantation,” she said wistfully.
“I know it’s not because of money,” Rose said. “Is it really just about Jeremy leaving?”
Abby nodded her head slightly, and then stopped. “No, that’s not true,” she admitted.
Carrie cocked her head. “What am I missing here?”
Abby smiled. “It’s not that you’re missing anything, Carrie. Most people in America have no idea what is happening, including most business owners.” Sh
e took a deep breath. “I believe America is headed into a financial crisis,” she finally said. She gave a short laugh. “I’m quite sure business owners all across the country would disagree with me.”
Rose eyed her. “Will you explain what you’re talking about? I can’t help but think it’s important since I haven’t been able to quit thinking about it for two weeks.”
“That is rather odd,” Abby mused. “I’ve never known you to have a thought for financial matters.”
“I still don’t,” Rose said lightly, “but I do have many thoughts for you. What I saw on your face that day has stuck with me.”
“I don’t want to put worry where there is no need for it,” Abby protested. “There are quite enough things in America to be concerned about already.”
“Hiding from things doesn’t make them go away,” Felicia said earnestly, her intense eyes boring into Abby. “I would like to know what you’re thinking, too.” She hesitated. “I don’t believe I’m too young, so don’t hold back because I’m here. If I’m going to be part of the Cromwell women, I need to be treated like one.”
Abby smiled tenderly. “You are most certainly not too young, Felicia. You’ll have to deal with the consequences if I’m right.”
Rose sat silently, warning Carrie and Felicia with her eyes to do the same. She knew Abby needed to gather her thoughts.
Abby spoke after a long silence. “Have any of you heard about the ‘Year Without A Summer’?”
Rose shook her head. She was surprised, however, that Felicia also remained silent. “There is something my daughter doesn’t know?” she teased.
Felicia made a face at her, and then turned back to Abby. “What was the year without a summer? I’ve never heard of it.”
“I grew up hearing about it,” Abby said. “It happened in 1816, two years after I was born. My family almost lost everything that year. A few years later, they actually did. It took them a long time to rebuild.” She shook her head. “Let me explain…at least the best I can, because no one really knows why it happened.”