Carried Forward By Hope

by Ginny Dye

  Moses picked that moment to enter the room. Rose nodded at him. “You’ve told her?” he asked.

  Carrie jerked her head around. “About Janie?” She eased back down in her chair. “Please tell me everything,” she insisted, leaning forward to look into all of their faces.

  Moses settled down in one of the sturdiest chairs, easing his muscular frame forward. “Clifford is a man with a lot of hate in him,” he said slowly. “Especially against us black folks.”

  “Clifford?” Carrie echoed. She wanted to deny what she was hearing, but now that she was being forced to hear it, supporting images were telling her it was the truth. Her shoulders sagged. “But, Janie…”

  “She’s got the same kind of love in her that you do,” Aunt Abby said softly. “That’s why we’re concerned for her. Clifford is going to feel threatened by his wife feeling differently than he does.”

  “But he knew who she was before they married,” Carrie protested.

  “This war has changed a lot of people,” Moses said. “The South lost,” he said bluntly. “Clifford’s whole world has changed. He’s got to find a way to vent all that anger. He knows better than to vent it against the North, so he has to find another target.”

  “The freed slaves,” Carrie said bluntly. Her heart raged, but her mind told her it was true.

  Aunt Abby nodded and gripped both her hands. “It’s going to happen everywhere,” she said sadly. “We’re in for a long battle.”

  “She’s right,” Rose said calmly. “We may have our freedom, but we don’t yet have the freedom to live our lives in this country.”

  “You sound very calm about it,” Carrie observed, her mind whirling as she thought about Janie.

  Rose shrugged. “We’ve talked about it at the contraband camp for the last three years. We knew that when the war finally ended it would be the beginning of the slaves’ fight to truly be free. Our goal was to equip our students so they could fight their battle.”

  Carrie nodded, but her heart and thoughts were with Janie. “She’s leaving to go back to Raleigh with Clifford,” she said with sudden fear. “What will happen?”

  “Do you think you can convince her to not go?” Aunt Abby asked.

  Carrie stared at her. “Convince her to leave Clifford?” She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She thought about the joyful wedding just months before. “They’ve been married such a short time,” she murmured.

  Aunt Abby squeezed her hands again tightly. “We might be completely wrong,” she said firmly.

  Carrie gazed at her, knowing Aunt Abby was trying to make her feel better, and also knowing the older woman didn’t believe a word of what she had just said.

  “Carrie…”

  Carrie leaped up as Robert croaked her name. “Robert!” Pushing aside thoughts of Janie, she rushed to his side.

  “I’m hungry,” he said weakly.

  Carrie smiled for the first time that day. “Well, I can certainly do something about that,” she said cheerfully as she looked into his clear eyes.

  “I’ll go down and get something,” Rose said instantly.

  Carrie nodded and continued to gaze down at her husband. She couldn’t bring Lincoln back to life, she couldn’t know what was happening in Richmond right now, and she couldn’t change how Clifford thought, but she could love her husband. She stroked his hair gently as she took hold of one of his hands. “I love you, Robert,” she said tenderly. “You’re going to get well,” she added, forcing the fierce tone out of her voice, but doing nothing to keep it from resonating within her heart.

  She longed to return to Cromwell Plantation, but she knew it was too soon to move Robert. It was enough to know it still stood. Captain Jones, Moses’s commanding officer, had sent out a squadron of men to check on it and bring back news. Moses claimed the captain did it for Carrie because he had such respect for how she escaped the plantation on Granite three years earlier. She didn’t really care why; she was simply glad to know her home remained. Everything in her wanted to be there right now, but it wasn’t time.

  “I’ve been very sick,” Robert murmured.

  Carrie took hope from the awareness in his voice. She settled down on the bed next to him, still stroking his hair. “Yes, you’ve been very sick,” she agreed. “But I believe the worst is behind you now,” she said firmly. “Now you’re just going to get better.”

  Robert gazed at her for a long moment and then looked around the room.

  Carrie’s heart leaped with gladness. Her husband’s eyes were actually looking — they were seeing for the first time. He gave a brief smile to Rose and Moses, recognizing both of them, but his eyes grew confused when they settled on the older woman.

  Carrie stood, took Aunt Abby by the hand, and drew her to the bed. “This is Aunt Abby, Robert,” she said happily.

  Robert’s confusion cleared. “Aunt Abby,” he said. “Carrie’s Aunt Abby.”

  Aunt Abby’s joyful laugh filled the room as she laid her hand on Robert’s arm. “I am so very glad to finally have the chance to meet you. I’ve only heard about you for five years. It’s nice to know you weren’t just a figment of Carrie’s imagination,” she said teasingly.

  Darkness fled the room as the breeze brought in hope and light. The curtains swayed and danced as hope replaced the despair that filled the room just minutes before.

  Robert stared up at Aunt Abby. “You have good eyes,” he said, but then his head slumped back against the pillow. “So tired…” he whispered.

  Aunt Abby stepped back as Carrie placed her hand on his head again, relieved beyond measure to find it cool to the touch. “You’ve had quite a long day,” she said soothingly.

  May entered the room with a bowl of soup.

  Carrie lifted Robert easily until he was sitting partially upright, still stunned that her robust husband was now frail and light enough for her to lift. She kept her voice cheerful, encouraged by his awareness. “Just take a few bites of this soup. Then you can go to sleep.”

  Robert nodded weakly, took the soup obediently, and then closed his eyes, his face going lax.

  Carrie gazed down at him and then smiled at Aunt Abby and Rose. “It’s a healing sleep,” she whispered. “We’ll go down now so that he won’t be disturbed.”

  *******

  Carrie looked at the two empty seats as May brought steaming platters out to the table. Robert’s awareness had lifted her spirits more than anything could have, but the conversation she’d had earlier with Aunt Abby and Rose had played through her mind all afternoon.

  “Where are Clifford and Janie?” Matthew asked, reaching for a piece of cornbread. “This is too good of a meal to miss.”

  Carrie pushed back from the table, aware of Aunt Abby and Rose’s gaze on her. “I’ll run up and check on her,” she said casually. “She must have been so tired after helping with Robert. I just want to make sure she’s all right.”

  Moments later she was easing down the hallway of the east wing, wondering why she was walking so quietly, but loath to make noise. She would analyze it later. She padded down the hallway past Jeremy’s room, slowing as she heard angry voices coming from the end room. Frowning and no longer concerned about stealth, she moved more quickly.

  “I tell you those soldiers have no right to be here in Richmond!”

  Carrie heard Clifford’s voice easily through the closed door. She raised her hand to knock but then dropped it and decided to listen.

  Janie didn’t respond, but Clifford continued on. “Those niggers have no right to tell white men what they can and cannot do!” He paused. “I tell you, we just won’t have it! Something has to be done.”

  Janie still said nothing.

  “Don’t you have anything to say?” Clifford asked sharply. “Can you do no more than look at me?”

  “What would you like me to say?”

  Carrie stiffened when she heard the fear in Janie’s voice. Aunt Abby and Rose had been right! She raised her hand to knock but dropped it once agai
n. What if her presence made it worse for Janie?

  “Surely you must agree with me,” Clifford said scathingly. “Clearly you see that having blacks in control of whites is simply not acceptable.”

  “The North won,” Janie said simply. “I suspect everyone in the South is going to have a lot to adjust to.”

  “Adjust to?” Clifford snapped. “You think I will adjust to having a nigger tell me what I can do?” Scorn and anger dripped from his voice. “You’re even more stupid than you look,” he said coldly.

  Carrie gasped, raised her hand, and knocked boldly on the door, stepping back just a little when Clifford flung it open.

  “What?” he snapped, his face changing immediately when he recognized their visitor. “Well hello, Carrie,” he said calmly.

  Carrie stared at him, wondering that such rage could so quickly become a civilized expression. That, perhaps more than anything else, scared her for Janie. What was hiding within the man they had all grown so fond of? “Dinner is ready,” she said steadily, stepping into the room and smiling at Janie. “I was afraid Janie was too tired after all she did to help me with Robert today.”

  “Yes,” Clifford said smoothly. “Janie was quite exhausted. We thought we would skip dinner tonight.”

  “Oh, that would be so sad,” Carrie said, determined not to leave her friend in the room with Clifford’s anger. “Everyone is quite eager to have you there.” She took Janie’s hand and looked at Clifford. “You’re going back to Raleigh so soon. We don’t want to miss a minute with either of you.” She almost choked on her words but managed to keep her voice casual and light. “Please do join us for dinner. The rest sent me to bring you back.”

  Janie remained silent.

  That alone made Carrie grit her teeth. She hated the look of fear lurking in Janie’s eyes as she gazed at Clifford, waiting for his decision.

  “All right then,” Clifford relented. “You’re right that we won’t be here much longer. We surely want to spend as much time with you as we can.” Only his eyes revealed his tension.

  Carrie squeezed Janie’s hand comfortingly before smiling brightly and releasing it. “Wonderful!” She stepped back out into the hallway and stopped, not willing to leave Janie alone for even a moment and sick at heart that she felt that way.

  Carrie saw Clifford’s eyes narrow with anger, but he kept a pleasant expression on his face as he stepped out into the hallway to join her.

  Chapter Two

  “We saved you some dinner,” Matthew said pleasantly as Carrie, Janie, and Clifford claimed their seats.

  “Wonderful!” Carrie said brightly. “These two were going to hide in their room tonight, but I convinced them we wanted their company too much to let them do that.”

  Clifford nodded as he took his seat. Janie gave a small smile and slipped into the chair next to his.

  Matthew almost frowned when he saw the expressions on their faces, but a quick warning glance from Carrie stopped him. He simply nodded. “You’re just in time to hear our news,” he said.

  Carrie took a bite of steaming beans. “What news would that be?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and steady, while her insides churned with fear and anger. She barely kept her hand from shaking when she remembered the fear she heard in Janie’s voice behind the closed door.

  “Matthew and I have decided to return to Washington, DC for President Lincoln’s viewing and funeral procession,” Aunt Abby said somberly.

  Carrie put down her fork slowly, her throat suddenly tight. “You’re leaving?” was all she could think to say. The long day had left her physically, emotionally, and mentally drained. She’d only had Aunt Abby back in her life for a short time. She couldn’t bear to lose her again so quickly.

  Aunt Abby, reading her thoughts clearly, reached over and took her hand. “Yes my dear, but I’ll be returning as soon as the formalities are over. Only something like this could pull me away from Richmond right now.”

  The pain in Aunt Abby’s eyes sliced through Carrie’s own pain. “Of course,” she said immediately. “You must be there.” Her gaze landed on Matthew. “You too,” she murmured.

  Matthew nodded. “The Philadelphia Tribune has asked me to cover it, but I would want to be there regardless.”

  “Will you be coming back too?” Carrie asked, suddenly wanting to be surrounded by all the people who mattered to her. Janie was leaving and her father was still in hiding from Union forces, but she wanted to pull everyone else close. After four years of having to be strong she suddenly felt fragile and weak. It was not a feeling she liked or welcomed, but she also couldn’t seem to conquer it.

  Matthew shook his head. “No. I’ll be leaving from Washington to accompany the funeral train to Illinois. I won’t go with it all the way because I’ve also been called down to travel with a boatload of freed prisoners from Vicksburg up the Mississippi.”

  “They’re going home,” Carrie said softly, understanding how much that would mean to Matthew after his stays in Libby Prison. She still had memories of his emaciated condition when she and Robert helped him escape.

  “Yes.” Matthew nodded, his expression showing his gratitude for her understanding. “They are going home.”

  “Then of course you must be there,” Carrie replied. “No one can tell their story better than you can.”

  “When is the viewing?” Rose asked. “Surely people will come from all parts of the country.”

  “You’re right,” Matthew agreed. “The trains will be crowded. The procession will be on the nineteenth so that people have a chance to get there.”

  “He’s not going to be buried in Washington, DC?” Moses asked.

  “No.” Matthew answered. “I received news today that a delegate from Illinois came to the capital and asked Mrs. Lincoln to please have his body returned to his home in Illinois. She agreed.”

  “But not until there has been a procession and several days for people to view him,” Aunt Abby added soberly. “He was greatly loved.”

  “He was a tyrant,” Clifford snorted angrily.

  Everyone jerked around to stare at him.

  Aunt Abby was the first to speak. “You’re angry,” she said simply.

  “Angry?” Clifford echoed bitterly. “I don’t think there is a word strong enough to communicate my feelings. It was Lincoln who declared war on the South. It was Lincoln who sent troops down here to kill off the best and the finest we had to offer.” His voice grew more heated. “It was Lincoln who set all the slaves free. It was Lincoln who made sure the South was left in complete chaos and turmoil when the war ended.” He pounded his fist on the table and leaped to his feet. “Angry?” he shouted. “Yes, I guess you could say I’m angry. And I certainly won’t say I’m not glad he’s dead!”

  Shocked silence met his tirade.

  Janie sat frozen as a statue, only her trembling shoulders revealing her pain and embarrassment. Her eyes were fixed on her empty plate.

  Matthew was the first to find his voice as he sought to defuse the tense situation with reason. “I think I understand why you feel the way you do,” he said slowly, “but I think you’ll find Lincoln’s death will only make things more difficult for the South.”

  Clifford snorted again. “I hardly think that is possible.”

  “Then you don’t know President Johnson,” Matthew responded blandly, not wanting to go into all he had learned today, and hoping against hope it had been wrong.

  “And you don’t know the Southern people,” Clifford responded bitterly. “We may have lost the war, but we have not lost our dignity or our self-respect. The Yankees have taken or destroyed our lands, but they have not taken our spirits.”

  “I certainly hope not,” Aunt Abby said fervently.

  Even Clifford quieted and turned to stare at her. “What?” he muttered.

  “Four years of war have left bitter feelings on every side,” Aunt Abby said calmly. “There are people in the North who feel just as strongly as you do. It is going to ta
ke a very long time to reconstruct this great country. It’s only going to be done by people who hold on to their dignity and their self-respect.” She paused for a long moment. “It’s also going to be done by people who can appreciate the dignity and self-respect of the other side. Hatred and misunderstanding is what got us here in the first place. I hardly think continuing down that road will create different results than what have already been created.”

  Clifford stiffened but remained silent.

  Aunt Abby fixed her eyes on him and continued. “You are a very intelligent man, Clifford. You have a law practice you plan to revive. You can be a leader for positive change, or you can continue to promote hatred and prejudice. The choice will be yours.”

  Silence filled the room, but Aunt Abby wasn’t done. “Your anger and hatred will only poison you, my boy,” she said softly. “It will poison your heart. It will poison your relationships. It will poison your business. And in the end, if you choose to let it, it will destroy all you hoped to be or become.”

  Carrie could hardly breathe. She saw Clifford’s eyes flash with anger, but he remained silent.

  Aunt Abby took a breath and turned to smile at the rest of the table. “Now, I do believe May prepared a special dessert for tonight.” She looked over at the housekeeper staring at her with wide eyes. “Would you be so kind as to deliver it to the parlor? I believe all of us need a change of scenery.” She rose quietly and moved into the other room.

  “Yessum,” May squeaked, before she disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Everyone pushed back from the table and followed Aunt Abby — all but Clifford and Janie.

  Carrie looked back, her heart torn by the misery in Janie’s eyes and alarmed by the hatred and anger in Clifford’s. She’d seen that look before in Ike Adams’s eyes. Memories of the old overseer at Cromwell Plantation made her shudder. She couldn’t leave Janie alone with Clifford right now.