by Ginny Dye
Sam shouted with joy! “Moses done found them!” he hollered. “He came through here on his way, but I neber did hear what happened.”
June smiled. “He found us, Sam. It’s a joy to meet you.”
Simon swung off his horse and shook Sam’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam.”
Sam eyed all the soldiers. “Somethin’ I should know?” Then his eyes widened as he stared at Captain Jones. “Ain’t you…” he asked, his face instantly becoming suspicious.
Captain Jones swung down from his horse so he could look Sam in the eye. “Yes, Sam, I’m the same man who came to the plantation at the beginning of the war.”
“The same man who did not destroy it,” Carrie said firmly. “He is a friend, Sam. He and some of Moses’s old unit rode out with us to make sure we stayed safe. All of these men are going to be working on the plantation to bring it back to life. We’re home, Sam!”
“Good Lawd,” Sam finally managed. “I done had me some happy days in my life, but I don’t reckon none of them match up to this one.” Sam’s grin faltered as he looked over at little John peering over the wagon. He turned and stared hard at Rose. “Rose girl?”
Rose nodded, her face glowing. “This is John, Sam. We named him for my daddy.”
Sam had tears streaming down his face when he stepped forward and took John’s hand with something akin to reverence. “Hello, John,” he said gently.
“Hello, Sam,” John lisped, his eyes watching him solemnly. “Mama told me about you.”
Sam laughed. “Well, you just wait, because I got stories to tell on your mama,” he announced.
Rose groaned and rolled her eyes.
Sam turned to Rose and took her hands. “My Rose girl is a mama,” he murmured. “Your mama would be so proud.”
Rose smiled and glanced in the direction of Sarah’s grave. “I believe she is,” she answered softly.
Just then Opal and Eddie came around the house with the four kids in tow, all of them laughing and talking.
Opal stepped forward. “I don’t have food for everyone, but Eddie tells me you have baskets in the wagon.”
“Enough for an army,” Carrie declared.
“Well, I just pulled a whole bunch of rhubarb pies out of the stove.”
Eddie grinned. “Opal makes the best pies in the world!” he declared.
“I’m glad May isn’t around to hear you say that,” Jeremy replied teasingly.
Carrie grinned, her heart almost bursting with happiness. “Opal, we’ll help you put everything out on the table inside,” she said. “We’ll just have a huge buffet for everyone.” She looked at Captain Jones. “Will you please bring Robert inside? I’ll show you where to put him, and then we would like all of you to join us for some supper.”
Sam frowned and stepped closer to the wagon. “I’s didn’t even see Mr. Robert in there.” He turned back and looked at Carrie, his eyes troubled. “What be wrong with him?”
“Nothing being back on the plantation won’t take care of,” Carrie said firmly. She’d been dismayed that he’d not opened his eyes once during the reunion, but she was determined to hold on to her belief that being on Cromwell would restore him to her. “I’ll tell you more about it later. Is the blue room available?”
When Sam nodded, she led the way into the house as the men carrying the stretcher followed her.
******
Aunt Abby found Rose in the backyard staring off into the woods. “Rose?” she asked quietly.
Rose turned to smile at her, but her eyes were far away. She said nothing as she slipped an arm around Aunt Abby’s waist.
They stood that way for a long time, simply breathing in the soft air of a late spring afternoon. Pink and white dogwoods bloomed profusely, while purple lilacs perfumed the air. Happy chatter wafted out through the open windows of the house that seemed to glow with joy now that its family had returned.
Aunt Abby smiled as Granite played and cavorted in the pasture, his head and tail lifted high. “That is one happy horse,” she said, her eyes shining with pleasure.
Rose nodded. “It’s been years since he’s been free of a stall or corral.”
“Or not being shot at,” Aunt Abby said reflectively. She took a deep breath. “It’s hard to believe there was a war when you’re out here.”
Rose nodded. “It’s a miracle it survived.” She frowned. “Edmund Ruffin wasn’t so fortunate.”
Aunt Abby strained to remember where she had heard that name. “He was rather a rabid secessionist, wasn’t he?”
Rose nodded. “Yes. He was also a brilliant agriculturalist. His discovery of marl as a fertilizer saved the tobacco farms in this region.” She frowned. “His plantation was completely destroyed. They even salted his fields so he couldn’t farm again.”
“Oh my,” Aunt Abby murmured. “How could it possibly do any good to destroy someone? No matter what he has done…”
“I’m sure the Union soldiers would call it justice,” Rose said ruefully. “The only thing I’m sure of is that it has guaranteed his enmity.”
Aunt Abby nodded and continued to gaze around. “Could I meet your mama?” she said suddenly.
Rose smiled softly, took her hand, and led her into the woods to the very same spot she had been staring at. It took them just a few minutes of meandering down a barely visible path to reach a small clearing in the woods ringed by dogwoods. Rose dropped to her knees in front of the simple stones that marked the graves for both her mama and daddy.
“I’m back, Mama,” she said softly, tears gleaming in her eyes as she reached out to touch the stone. “I’m free — just like we dreamed about. I’m a teacher now and I have a little boy. His name is John.” Her voice thickened. “There is never a day that passes that I don’t think about you.”
Rose reached up and took Aunt Abby’s hand. “I want you to meet Aunt Abby, Mama. She’s the second most amazing woman I have ever known. Y’all would have loved each other.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Abby whispered. She walked over to pick a bouquet of wild bluets and glowing pink trillium. She returned and laid them on the ground in front of the stone and then knelt with Rose.
“You would be so proud of your daughter, Sarah. She means the world to me — both her and Moses. And John? He’s the spitting image of Moses. Rose is a fine teacher, Sarah. Just like you knew she would be. More importantly, she’s one of the most beautiful human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.” Aunt Abby paused. “I so wish I could have known you, but I almost feel I do because I know Rose. I suspect she is becoming more like you with every day that passes.”
A solemn silence fell over the clearing. A gentle breeze ruffled the tender, young leaves. The setting sun cast a golden glow over everything as birds chirped and sang, an occasional owl hooting its announcement of the coming night.
Rose finally stood, her face and eyes peaceful. “Thank you,” she whispered as she took Aunt Abby’s hand. “We have to get back before dark. I don’t know these woods well enough to navigate them.”
“Not like you did the woods where you had your secret school?”
Rose smiled. “I could walk those paths with my eyes closed.” Her face took on another faraway look. “I wonder where everyone is. I never heard from anyone again after I got word they made it safely to Canada.”
“Freedom means people can reconnect,” Aunt Abby replied. “I believe you’ll get answers in time.”
Rose nodded. “Maybe, but if not, it’s enough to know they were free long before a piece of paper said they were.”
“Are you okay, Rose?” Aunt Abby asked suddenly.
Rose turned to gaze at her, not even asking how she knew her heart was in turmoil. “I have no right not to be,” she replied.
Aunt Abby cocked a brow and waited.
Rose searched for words. “I’m glad to be here,” she began. “I want to support Moses’s dream of being a farmer, and this is a good place for John.” She paused, knowing Aunt Abby wou
ld remain silent. “I’m glad to be here for Carrie,” she added, “and it feels a lot like coming home, only better, because now I’m free.” She lapsed into silence.
“But…” Aunt Abby finally prompted.
Rose smiled. “But I feel like I’m going backwards,” she admitted. “Life in the contraband camp was hard because I was separated from Moses and Carrie, but I loved every minute of teaching. I woke up every day knowing I was going to make a difference.” She sighed. “I can close my eyes and see all those faces smiling back at me. I can see the joy when they learned to read, when they figured out how to write. I had the joy of knowing I was preparing someone else to be free.”
“And you feel like that’s gone,” Aunt Abby observed.
“It is,” Rose said, trying to keep the sorrow from closing her throat.
“Really?”
Rose frowned now, and turned to stare at Aunt Abby. “What are you trying to say?”
“You’re a teacher,” Aunt Abby said. “You don’t need a school building to teach, but if you want one, why don’t you just build one?”
Rose started to laugh but then just stared at her wordlessly, an idea struggling to free itself from her sorrowful thoughts.
“All you need are people who want to learn,” Aunt Abby continued. She paused a moment. “How many kids are about to be on the plantation?”
Rose thought about Eddie’s kids and all the children Moses’s men would bring with them. “A lot,” she admitted. Her mind began to spin as she thought about the neighboring plantations that would need black labor and the families that would be a part of it. Suddenly her eyes grew wide. “Aunt Abby…” she said breathlessly.
Aunt Abby laughed. “Now you’re seeing the picture,” she replied, a broad smile on her face.
“I can start a school right here!” Rose exclaimed.
“And I’ll make sure you have all the supplies you need,” Aunt Abby said, her eyes dancing with delight. “One letter will have boxes here as soon as you need them.”
Rose clapped her hands together sharply, grinning as the sound vibrated through the trees. “And I don’t have to do it in secret,” she said, almost in awe.
“Never again,” Aunt Abby assured her. “Never again.”
******
Thomas, standing by the fireplace, enjoyed the warmth that started to ward off the night air as he stared around his crowded parlor. Captain Jones’s men spilled out onto the porch, laughing and talking easily. He watched as Jeremy laughed with Sam, and he smiled when Carrie leaned down to hug Carl, Eddie’s youngest who was now eleven years old and who looked like a heavier version of his daddy.
Aunt Abby, who had just strolled into the house, walked over to stand beside him. “You look like a man deep in thought.”
Thomas gazed down at her. “Care to go for a walk?”
“I would love to,” she replied.
Dusk had fallen when they walked away from the house, skirting the boxwoods that lined the driveway. Granite walked over to have his head scratched and then they moved on, silence falling between them like a comfortable glove.
Thomas felt himself relaxing more and more as they moved toward the barren fields bordered by trees sporting soft green leaves. “Spring is my favorite time of the year,” he finally murmured.
“Mine too,” Aunt Abby agreed, thankful for the warmth of her cloak as she pulled it close.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I feel perfect.” She gazed around. “I don’t know that I’ve seen a more beautiful place.”
Thomas frowned. “It’s not what it was.” He straightened his shoulders. “But it will be.” He reached down to pick up a handful of soil and let it run through his fingers. “The war years have been good for the fields. It’s given them time to rest and gather renewed vigor. Next year’s tobacco crop will be a good one,” he predicted.
“How large is the plantation?”
“Twenty-five hundred acres.” Thomas waved his arm. “Everything you can see and more. It’s bounded by the James River and by the main road that leads into Richmond.” He frowned. “We won’t be able to put all of it back in crops for a while. They’re simply won’t be enough workers because I can’t pay them yet, but the time will come when we’ll produce what we used to,” he said with determination.
Aunt Abby smiled. “I believe that.”
Thomas shook his head. “I still can’t believe what Opal and the kids did,” he said in disbelief.
Aunt Abby looked at him. “I must have missed that. What did they do?”
Thomas smiled. “I think you were out with Rose. Opal and the kids found some cows and pigs running free in the woods a couple years ago. When the last group of soldiers came through they managed to hide them before they got here. They had built a pen way back in the woods.” He veered off down a road behind the barn. “She said they’re back here.”
After a few minutes of steady walking, they came out upon a series of pens and sheds. “Well, will you look at that!” Thomas exclaimed. He leaned on the fence and stared at a dozen small calves tottering and playing, while what seemed to be a small army of piglets suckled at their sow’s teats.
“Look at them!” Aunt Abby walked forward and held out her hand to a young calf sticking his head through the fence and staring at them with a comical expression. “I’d say you have the beginning of quite a herd.”
Thomas nodded. “I do, indeed. It will be enough to keep everyone fed. I’ll buy some more, but this is quite a foundation.” He glanced around, his expression sad this time.
“What is it, Thomas?”
He hesitated. “I have so much to be grateful for, but it hurts my heart every time I look out into the pasture and see only Granite. I had some of the finest horses in Virginia before the war. I already knew they would all be gone, but I can’t get used to seeing empty fields.”
“You’ll change that,” Aunt Abby said confidently, knowing intuitively that sympathy wasn’t what he needed.
Thomas stared at her and laughed. “You’re right,” he said firmly. “I will change that.” He walked away from the pens and continued on down a road through the fields. “It’s getting dark,” he mused. “Do you mind?”
Aunt Abby looked up at the stars, reveling in the sense of openness. “Not at all. It’s been so long since I’ve been free of the confines of a city. This is simply splendid.”
“Did you grow up on a plantation?”
“Yes. My father’s home is not as grand as this, but it’s beautiful. He has five hundred acres south of Roanoke near the North Carolina border.” She hesitated. “He was a hard man. I left as soon as I had the opportunity.”
“That’s not easy for a southern lady,” Thomas commented. “Carrie’s independence was frowned upon. I imagine yours was more so.”
“Let’s just say I’m used to doing things my way,” Aunt Abby said demurely.
Thomas laughed and tucked her hand in his arm. They continued to walk, letting silence fall between them again. Frogs and crickets filled the night air as a breeze blew strong enough to keep any spring mosquitoes at bay.
They turned around and began to walk back before Thomas broke the silence. “Tell me more about your plans in Richmond,” he invited.
Aunt Abby began by telling him the vow she made to Lincoln as his funeral train rolled by. “I believe building factories is the way I can best contribute. It’s what I know best.”
“How long do you think it will take to build them?”
Aunt Abby shrugged. “At least six months. Then I have to equip them and train the workers. I suspect it will be close to a year before we’re in full operation, but if I can speed things up, I certainly will.”
“And you’re planning on hiring only black workers?”
Aunt Abby shook her head. “Not at all. I want my factories to begin the integration of society. Factories in the North have blacks and whites working side by side.”
“And you believe tha
t can happen down here?”
“By the tone of your voice, you don’t believe that is possible.”
Thomas shook his head and pressed her hand. “Not at all. Oh, I used to believe that, but I don’t anymore.” He hesitated. “I just believe it will be very difficult.”
Aunt Abby smiled. “I’ve always believed life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.”
Thomas looked down at her. “You are quite unusual.”
“So I’ve been told.” Aunt Abby paused for a long moment as she stared out over the fields glowing in the moonlight. “My grandmother was quite unusual as well. While her daughter, my mother, was trying to teach me to be a good plantation wife, my grandmother was telling me not to let anyone mandate my future but me. She warned me it would be very difficult because so many would be threatened, but that I was the only one who should make choices for my life.”
“Your mother must have loved that,” Thomas said wryly.
Aunt Abby laughed. “She never knew. It was Mamaw’s and my secret. She told me that if Mama knew we talked about such things, we would never see each other again. I adored my grandmother, so I never said a thing. I just lived my life as I wanted.” She grew silent. “When Mamaw died I thought my heart would break. I was only eighteen, but I was gone the next week.”
“How?” Thomas asked with astonishment, turning to stare down at her.
Aunt Abby shrugged. “I just left. I told one of our slaves I had a trip to make into town. When I got there I told him he would no longer be needed, handed him a letter to give to my parents, and I left on the next train for Philadelphia.”
“That must have been quite the adventure,” Thomas commented.
Aunt Abby laughed. “I had absolutely no idea what I had gotten myself into,” she admitted. “Thankfully, I met my husband very soon after arriving. He was just untraditional enough not to be appalled by a young lady on her own. I think I would have loved him just for that, but we shared so much in common. I loved him almost from the day we met. My parents washed their hands of me when I married. My husband gave me security, but he also respected my need for freedom and independence. I believe we made a perfect couple.”