by Ginny Dye
“A bit!” Carrie snorted. “How long did it take him to find out how much you really knew?”
Miles grinned. “Not too long,” he admitted. “By the end of the day, I had me a job working in the stables.”
Carrie and Rose exchanged delighted looks.
“What did you do for Carson Farms?” Robert asked.
“Diff’rent things,” Miles drawled, “but by the time I left I was runnin’ their breeding program.”
Robert eyed him thoughtfully. “That was an important job to leave.”
“Yep.” Miles nodded, not adding more to his simple agreement.
“Why did you leave?” Carrie pressed.
Miles gazed at her. “I missed home, Carrie Girl. Canada is a right nice place, but it sure gets cold in the winter. I missed the fireflies, and I sure missed the smell of honeysuckle on a warm summer evening. I kept watchin’ how things were changin’ down here. When I figured it was safe enough, I took all the money I saved and came home.”
“With Chelsea?” Robert asked.
Miles looked at him. “Yep.”
Annie snorted. “I know the look of a man who ain’t tellin’ everythin’ he got inside him. You with friends now, Miles. You might as well tell ever’body the rest of the reason you’re here.”
Rose stared at her mother-in-law. “You know what it is?”
Annie snorted again. “Course not! But it don’t take no special skills to know Miles ain’t tellin’ us ever’thing.” She glared at Miles. “We ain’t got time for games around here. You want any more of my lemonade and cookies, then you better start talkin’!”
Miles smiled widely, his eyes locked on Annie. “Well, I sure do want some more of those cookies,” he replied. He looked back at Robert. “I spend a lot of time readin’ breeding magazines.”
“That so?” Robert asked, his eyes beginning to take on a gleam.
“Yep.”
Carrie had seen Clint come over from the barn after training one of the mares during the afternoon.
Clint had been standing at the bottom of the stairs listening, but now he walked up onto the porch. “I reckon you read the article a few months ago about Eclipse coming here to Cromwell Plantation.”
Miles nodded, his eyes shining with appreciation as he regarded Clint. “That’s right. You be Clint?”
Clint nodded but remained silent.
“That article said you were the one responsible for bringing Eclipse here.”
Clint shrugged. “I just picked him out. Mrs. Cromwell bought him for the plantation.”
Miles eyed him shrewdly. “Then I reckon you know why I’m here.”
Carrie stamped her foot. “There are other people listening,” she said impatiently. “Would either of you care to tell the rest of us what you are talking about?”
Robert cleared his throat, his eyes locked on Miles. “I think I can clear up the mystery,” he began. “The Cleveland Bay was long known as a powerful pack horse. They were used in northern England to carry the wares of traveling salesmen. Their type became known as the Chapman Horse. However, during the 1700s there was a lot of trade between the Barbary Coast of Africa and the northeast of England. The end result was that the Barb stallions were crossed with the Chapman mares.”
Carrie listened closely. “I thought the Barb stallions of Africa were the foundation stock for Thoroughbreds? I remember reading about that when I got Granite.”
Miles smiled his approval. “The Barbs were the breeding stock for the Thoroughbreds, but also the American Quarter Horse, and the Standardbred.”
Robert took over again. “As carriages replaced pack horses, the Cleveland Bay evolved into an excellent carriage horse because of their strength, stamina, and sure-footedness.” He paused, trying to remember everything he had learned. “I’ve read there is a very strong demand for upstanding carriage horses that are matched pairs.”
“That’s right,” Miles agreed.
“The Cleveland Bays are being bred to Thoroughbreds to produce a taller, faster coach horse,” Robert continued.
“That’s right!” Clint said excitedly. “They are known as the Yorkshire Coach Horse.” He stared at Miles as he put all the pieces together in his mind. “You brought Chelsea here to breed her with Eclipse.”
“Well,” Miles said, “I think that might be presuming a little much. Let’s say I brought her here with the hopes of that happening, but…” He turned to gaze at Robert. “That ain’t the main reason I’m here.”
“You want a job,” Robert said bluntly.
“That’s right,” Miles said, the first uncertainty showing in his eyes.
Carrie knew how far he had traveled and she couldn’t imagine him not staying. She wanted to jump up and say that of course Robert was going to hire her old mentor and friend, but the stable was her husband’s dream. He should be the one to decide who would work here.
Robert didn’t make her squirm long. “I’d be a fool to not hire you,” he said with an easy grin. “You obviously know horses. The operation is growing. I will welcome all experienced help I can get. But,” he added, “Clint is my stable manager. You’ll be working for him, as well.”
Miles nodded. “That be just fine with me.”
Carrie hid her smile as Clint’s shoulders straightened even more and a look of deeper confidence came over his face.
Robert looked over toward the barn. “I think breeding Chelsea to Eclipse is a fine idea.”
“I’ll pay, of course,” Miles said quickly, excitement shining in his eyes. “It will take me a little while to save up the money because buying Chelsea put a big bite into my savings.”
Robert shook his head. “I have a better idea. The first foal from Eclipse will be yours. The next will be mine. I would like to see Cromwell Stables add a line of carriage horses. Even without researching Chelsea’s lineage, I’m quite sure it is exemplary. You wouldn’t have brought her all this way otherwise.”
“Took most every penny I had saved to buy her,” Miles confirmed. He stood, walked over to Robert, and shook his hand firmly. “You have a deal.”
“And we can buy more from Mr. Carson if we decide to?”
Miles grinned. “He is expecting orders.”
Robert threw back his head with a laugh and then looked at Carrie. “Miles was your mentor? I’m beginning to understand you better.”
Carrie grinned and jumped up to throw her arms around Miles. “I can hardly believe you are back. You’ve only just begun to answer all the questions in my mind.”
“And in mine,” Rose added.
“I reckon we got’s us lots of time now,” Miles said, pleasure shining in his eyes. He looked at Rose. “Where that husband of yours be?”
Rose smiled. “He’s out checking the new tobacco seedlings going in.”
“He manage this place?”
“Not exactly,” she murmured, her smile growing when Miles cocked an eyebrow. “He is half-owner of Cromwell Plantation.”
Miles sank back in his chair, shock evident in his eyes. “What you say? Half-owner?”
“It’s rather a long story,” Rose replied.
“Sounds like it would be,” Miles managed as he shook his head. He glanced at Annie. “And you be Moses’ mama?”
“That’s right.”
“And you live here in the house, too?” Disbelief dripped from his voice.
Annie chuckled. “Ain’t much of the South like it be here on Cromwell Plantation, but it works real well for us. It does take a mite gettin’ used to, though,” she admitted.
Miles continued to shake his head. “Seven years be a real long time, but it don’t seem long enough for this kind of change.”
Carrie thought it wise to warn him it wasn’t this way everywhere. “Annie is right that most of the South is not like this, Miles. You’ll have to be careful. The vigilantes don’t like how we do things here.”
Miles nodded easily. “I knows that. I kept up on things even though I was way up in Canada.” His
face was set in stern lines. “We done gave up too much for too many years. It’s time that stopped. This is where I want to be. I want to work to make my own livin’, and I want to start a fine line of horses. I ain’t lettin’ them vigilantes scare me away.” He locked eyes with Robert. “The men around here carry guns?”
“They do. Most of the men working here on the plantation served in the Union Army. We’ve learned to be ready.”
“I’m ready, too,” Miles said.
Robert exchanged a long look with him. “I understand you used to live in the room over the barn.”
“That’s right.”
“It’s still available. It’s yours if you want it to be.”
Miles smiled. “I would like that just fine.”
The evening wore on as they talked about all that had happened. It was too early for fireflies, but the smell of the first lilacs perfumed the air, and a southern breeze kept things warm. John, Felicia, and Amber played hide-and-go-seek out on the lawn, while Annie and Polly brought out platters of ham biscuits and raw vegetables from the gardens. Owls hooted as the crescent moon dangled over the treetops. Moses, in from a long day in the fields, held Hope close in his arms as he chatted with Miles.
In a world of great uncertainty, it was a perfect night.
********
Janie skirted the last remaining piles of gray slush, trying to ignore the prickly feeling between her shoulder blades. She chatted easily with her classmates about all they had learned that day, but try as she might, she couldn’t dismiss the feeling of being watched. She hated the old familiar fear that clenched her gut. After all this time, had Clifford come after her to get his revenge? Had he sent someone to hurt her in retaliation for the humiliation their divorce had caused?
“Are you all right, Janie?” one of the women asked.
Janie summoned a bright smile, almost hating that she still knew how to cover her true feelings so easily. “I just have a lot on my mind,” she responded. “School seems a little overwhelming right now.” It was a blatant lie, but what did it matter? If someone was following her, she didn’t want to put anyone else in danger. “I’ve just remembered something I left back at school. Y’all go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“We’ll wait for you,” another woman replied.
“Nonsense,” Janie said briskly. “I walk home from school by myself quite often. It is perfectly safe. Matthew will be waiting for me when I get there.” She was determined not to put anyone else at risk, but neither was she willing to allow herself to be intimidated by fear. Those days were over. She was going to confront whoever it was that was watching her.
The woman who had wanted to wait nodded reluctantly. “I suppose it will be fine,” she murmured. Her eyes were still doubtful, but she turned away and continued on with the rest.
Janie waited for several moments, concentrating on deep breaths to steady her nerves, before she turned around and scanned the crowds. Her eyes locked almost immediately on a slender man standing on the sidewalk about a hundred feet away. She frowned when she realized he was watching her. There was something very familiar about him, but she couldn’t say she actually recognized him from that distance. Determined to not let her fears control her, Janie gathered all her courage and walked directly toward the man.
She was only a few feet away before her determination dissolved into disbelieving delight. Janie gasped and covered her mouth with one gloved hand. “Georgia?” She walked closer, shaking her head. “Is it really you?”
The slender man with short red hair and blue eyes broke into a broad smile. “I still go by George, but yes, Janie, it is me.”
Janie continued to stare in disbelief. “But you are dead.”
“Obviously not,” George said calmly.
“But, how…?”
George took Janie’s arm and led her to a quiet bench set back from the busy sidewalk. A tree blocked enough of the noise to make conversation possible. All Janie could do was stare.
Georgia smiled gently. “I realize this must be something of a shock.”
“That would be putting it mildly,” Janie managed. “Robert told us you died.”
“Because that’s what he was told,” George replied. “Things were more than a little chaotic at the end of the war. I was with Robert at Appomattox. When the army was surrendered and released, I had no idea what I was going to do. My brother was dead, and I had no desire to return home to farm again.”
“Why didn’t you let us know?” Janie asked. “We were so heartbroken when we heard you had died.”
Regret filled George’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I owe more to you and Carrie than I can ever repay. You hid my true identity and enabled me to pass as a man during the last year of the war. I had actually decided to go back to living as a woman, but then I saw a list of casualties from the last battles. My name was on there. I wanted so much to tell you and Carrie good-bye and thank you, but I thought it would be easier to start over if everyone believed I was dead.”
Janie stared at him, reluctant understanding filtering in through the shock. “You died as a woman the day you saw the reports.”
“Yes,” George agreed. His eyes sparkled with gratitude. “As hard as it was to conceal my identity during the war, I really had no desire to go back to living as a woman. Being a man in America is, quite simply, much easier.”
“Don’t I know that,” Janie murmured, delight replacing her shock. She reached out and grasped her friend’s hands. As she did, she realized she had to let George come to life in her mind. He had made his choice, and she couldn’t really blame him. “You are still quite a handsome man,” she said.
George grinned. “I don’t regret my decision. After the war years, I am quite comfortable living by myself. I have friends, and I like the people I work with. I have found that is quite enough for me. I have given up the option of marrying one day, but the trade-offs of living as a man in this country are worth it.”
“How did you find me?” Janie asked.
“I wasn’t looking for you,” George responded. “I moved here to Philadelphia after the war to start my new life. I started as a line worker in a garment factory. The fact that I could read—thanks to you and Carrie—helped me get the job of the office manager within several months. The factory is just a few blocks from here. Last week I saw you walking down the street with some other women. I wanted to approach you then, but I was afraid it would have been too much of a shock, and…”
“You didn’t want me to reveal your true identity,” Janie finished his sentence for him. “Which I probably would have.”
“And now?” George asked quietly.
“Now I am happy to have reconnected with my old friend, George, from Richmond,” Janie answered evenly.
“Thank you,” George said fervently. “I’ve watched you a couple afternoons. I still hadn’t decided whether I was going to approach you. I was surprised when you turned around and saw me. How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” Janie answered. “I could feel someone watching me. I had to know who it was.”
“I’m sorry I frightened you.”
Janie shook her head. “I was afraid it was someone else.”
“Clifford?”
Janie took a deep breath. “Yes, Clifford. How did you know?”
“It was something I sensed,” George said, smiling slightly. “I may live as a man, but I still have the intuitions of a woman.”
“I think I might actually be jealous,” Janie said wistfully. She told George what had happened with Clifford. “It’s over,” she finished firmly. “Do you remember Matthew Justin?”
“Of course I do,” George responded. “He was the journalist. I always liked him.”
“So did I,” Janie answered with a grin. “I liked him enough to marry him on Christmas Eve. We celebrated our three month anniversary a few days ago.”
“That’s wonderful,” George exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you! And you live here in
Philadelphia?”
Janie told him about going to the homeopathic college.
“What about Carrie?” George asked. “I thought she would be in medical school.”
Janie laughed. “Carrie is having a baby in July!”
The two friends laughed and talked as they caught up on all that had happened. Janie suddenly realized it was getting late. Matthew would be frantic if she wasn’t home soon. “I must go,” she gasped.
“I will walk you home,” George said. “You’re safer with a male escort.”
Janie smiled, knowing it would take more time to get completely comfortable with viewing Georgia as George. She also answered the question she saw lurking in George’s eyes. “I won’t tell anyone,” she assured him. “Not even Matthew.”
“And you don’t mind? I hate to have you keep a secret from your husband.”
“It’s not my secret,” Janie replied. “I’m happy to keep it for you.”
“You may tell Carrie, of course,” George said. “I do hope I will be able to see her again.”
“Thank you,” Janie breathed. “I was willing to keep your secret, but she might never have forgiven me if she ever found out.”
The two friends strolled through the darkening streets. “Are you happy with your job?” Janie asked.
George shrugged. “It’s a good job, and I am well-paid.”
“But…?”
“Women’s intuition?”
“Just answer the question,” Janie replied with a smile.
“It really is a good job,” George insisted, “but I do not like the working conditions in the factory. I am treated well because I’m in the office, but the people working on the garment lines are treated rather poorly, and I believe they are underpaid. People are so desperate for jobs they seem willing to accept any working conditions.”
Janie had a sudden thought. “Would you consider working for another factory?”