Always Forward

by Ginny Dye

  Carrie frowned, thinking again of what her father had revealed about Hobbs last night. She was grateful Hobbs had told the truth, but was also horrified by how much he must have changed to even contemplate hurting her family. The betrayal would take time to dissipate. She also understood he was trying to make up for it by taking Matthew and Peter to the Ku Klux Klan convention in Nashville, but all the knowledge did was bring up a whole new host of worries.

  Carrie forced her thoughts in a different direction. “Speaking of Janie, I received a letter from her a few weeks ago. She mentioned she had a very special surprise waiting for me, but she refused to divulge any details. I’ve written her twice to get more information, but for once she seems capable of keeping a secret.”

  Abby smiled, but didn’t respond.

  Carrie narrowed her eyes, glad to have something else to pursue. “You know the secret,” she accused. “Out with it.”

  Abby merely smiled more brightly, her gray eyes dancing with fun. “Janie may have trouble keeping secrets, but I am perfectly comfortable with it.”

  “Can you at least tell me if I will like it?” Carrie demanded, her curiosity and anticipation growing.

  “You will love it,” Abby replied, and then turned to talk to Thomas.

  Carrie knew she would say nothing more. Her mind played with all the possibilities as they rolled along the city streets, but she kept drawing a blank.

  ********

  Carrie shivered with anticipation as the cluttered skyline of Moyamensing appeared on the horizon. She wasn’t sure what she was most looking forward to. She could hardly wait to see Biddy and Faith. They had exchanged letters through the long winter, but it wasn’t the same as being with the two women she had grown to love so much. She also suspected word had gotten out of their arrival. The street would be lined with children waiting to see Carrie. Many of them had been her patients, or they knew her because she had saved their parents from cholera the summer before.

  Thank goodness for the long, cold winter that had beaten the cholera back, stamping out the last cases as it withdrew before the brutal temperatures. She knew there were areas of the country—especially in the South—still battling the disease, but she had heard of no more new cases in Philadelphia.

  As the carriage rolled along, her mind turned to Janie’s secret. Her friend had still refused to reveal anything, in spite of her most persuasive attempts. Janie had just laughed and told her this day was going to be even more exciting than she anticipated. Since Carrie found that impossible to believe, she was just going to have to wait.

  “How much further to the factory?” Thomas asked.

  “Just another couple blocks,” Abby answered. “You’re going to be quite proud of it.”

  Carrie understood the look on her father’s face; an odd mixture of hope and anticipation. The new factory would create additional profits, but that was not the reason for its existence. Her parents had decided to invest in the new clothing factory to provide jobs for the people of Moyamensing. It was her father’s way of helping redeem the horrible things his ancestor, Oliver Cromwell, had done to the Irish. She was quite sure he couldn’t fully understand what this was going to mean to people who had been caught in a quagmire of hopelessness and despair for so long. The factory couldn’t offer jobs to everyone, of course, but Biddy had planned the employment carefully, making sure that as many households as possible had at least one person with a good job at the factory.

  “I know anything you have done I will be proud of,” Thomas said quietly, the look on his face revealing how much he loved his wife.

  Carrie watched them, so grateful each of them had the other. It was evidence that the darkest times could emerge into brilliant light.

  “Biddy has been a tremendous help,” Abby said. “I’ve been here twice, but her years of business experience made it possible for the factory manager to get everything done so quickly.” She shook her head. “I have to remind myself constantly that she is ninety-eight years old. She is so full of life, it just doesn’t seem possible she has lived almost a century! And Faith is just like her. She is twenty years younger than Biddy, but she is still elderly. I hope I am just like both of them when I reach their ages.”

  Carrie nodded her agreement, but didn’t speak because excitement was pounding in her chest. There had been many difficult aspects to her decision to not return to Philadelphia. Leaving Biddy had been one of them. She had never known her grandmother, and her grandfather was nothing more than a vague memory—a reality she had been glad of when she discovered how he had violated Sarah to create Rose and Jeremy. Biddy had become her grandmother in the months they had shared.

  “Miss Carrie!”

  Carrie was jolted out of her reverie when Paddy dashed up to the carriage, his blue eyes snapping with excitement beneath his thatch of red hair. She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t realized they were only a block from Biddy’s house. The little boy peering up at her was one of her favorites. His father had died of cholera eighteen months earlier, but she had been able to save his little brother the summer before. He had become like her shadow when she had been treating people in Moyamensing.

  “I been waiting for you all morning!” Paddy proclaimed in his rich Irish brogue as he ran beside the carriage, keeping pace easily because the street had grown more crowded.

  Now that Carrie was paying attention, she realized there was a throng of children clustered behind him. She laughed with delight. “Stop the carriage,” she called. When the carriage had pulled to a halt, she stepped down carefully and turned to give Paddy a big hug. “It’s wonderful to see you,” she said, letting her gaze sweep the thirty or so barefoot children staring up at her. “All of you.”

  Paddy jumped back and stared at her. “You gonna have a baby, Miss Carrie?” His eyes widened as his eyes fixed on her expanded stomach. “Are you gonna be a ma?”

  “That I am,” Carrie confirmed with a smile. The warm rush of love she felt for the little boy in front of her made her realize just how much she would love her own child.

  “When is it gonna be born?” Paddy demanded, eyeing her appraisingly. “My mama has had four more babies since I was born. My birthday is July eighth. Looks to me like your baby is going to come close to that.”

  “Pretty close,” Carrie agreed. She thought about Paddy’s mother raising five children under the age of eight without a husband. She hoped they had made it through the winter with no illness. She had left them some homeopathic remedies because Paddy’s mother, Celia, had helped her with some of the cholera patients. “How is everyone in your family?”

  “They’re all fine!” Paddy announced. “My ma got her a job in that new factory.”

  Carrie felt a surge of relief. “That’s wonderful!” She reached down to give him another hug and then made sure she hugged each child. When the last child had been embraced, she looked up and realized they were standing in front of Biddy’s house.

  Biddy was watching her with a warm smile, her blue eyes radiating with warm love. Faith, her dark eyes flashing a glad welcome, stood beside her.

  “Biddy! Faith!” Carrie left her father and Abby in the wagon as she dashed forward. Her concession to her pregnancy was to take the steps more slowly, but it was only seconds before she was engulfed in a hug with both women.

  Biddy finally stepped back and took Carrie’s face between her hands, peering deeply into her eyes for several moments. Carrie gazed back, almost swallowed in the deep wisdom that radiated from the old woman’s eyes set in wrinkled porcelain skin.

  “You look fine,” Biddy announced. “Janie had me worried, but you look like being with child becomes you.”

  Carrie smiled as the rich brogue rolled over her. “Janie likes to worry,” she said lightly. She took Biddy’s hand, grabbed Faith’s, and turned them toward the road. “I’d like you to meet my father, Thomas Cromwell.”

  Biddy’s smile was a bright beam of sunshine. “Welcome to my home, Mr. Cromwell. It is a pleasur
e to be meeting you, for sure!” She stepped forward to clasp the hand Thomas held out with both of her own. “I’ll be thanking you with all my heart that you and your lovely wife have brought your clothing factory to Moyamensing.”

  “Please call me Thomas. And it’s I that should be thanking you,” Thomas proclaimed. “It seems like such a little thing, but it is a start.”

  “More of a start than you can imagine,” Faith said fervently as she moved forward to clasp his hand next. “A job in Moyamensing means hope. The people here haven’t had much of that. Watching that factory come to life this winter gave people what they needed to make it through the cold, dark nights. Now that spring is here, it’s all they talk about.”

  Both women turned next to draw Abby into their embrace. The children remained clustered around the porch, laughing and smiling as they watched the reunion.

  ********

  Carrie leaned forward with anticipation as the carriage rounded the last corner. The last two hours had been filled with conversation, as well as a plate of Faith’s famous Irish oatmeal cookies, but she was eager to see the factory. It had been nothing more than an empty, cavernous shell pocketed with broken window panes when she had last seen it in the fall. It was difficult to believe it could actually be ready for operation. She understood the look of skeptical expectancy on her father’s face, but she couldn’t miss the calm confidence on Abby’s. Her stepmother had been here twice during the long winter to oversee the preparations, and she knew Abby was too astute a businesswoman to let the factory open if it wasn’t ready.

  Carrie gasped when the factory came into view as they rounded the last corner. “Oh my!” she breathed, clasping a hand to her mouth. She whipped her head around to look at Abby. “I can’t believe it’s the same place!”

  “They have done amazing work,” Abby agreed proudly. “And all the work was done by people here in Moyamensing.”

  Carrie grinned with delight. She knew Abby’s manager, brought in from another factory, had wanted to hire outside workers, but Abby had been adamant that the factory was to belong to the people of Moyamensing. They should be the ones to do the labor to bring it to life. “It’s wonderful. It’s absolutely wonderful.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Thomas said warmly, reaching over to take his wife’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Carrie was struck by the tone of her father’s voice. More than anything, those two simple words told her how much the factory really did mean to him. He had not wanted to believe the horrors his ancestor had inflicted on the Irish, but once he had accepted the truth, it had become his mission to do something, no matter how small, to make a difference. She knew her father, so she suspected this would be just the first of many things that would turn Moyamensing into a place of hope for many wanting to create a better life.

  Carrie continued to gaze at the three-story factory. Smoke from boilers put in place to operate the machinery poured into the sky. Window panes gleamed in the sunlight. Masons had repaired all the damaged brickwork, and solid doors had replaced ramshackle ones. Green grass was growing in the area next to the building that was full of picnic tables and benches for meal breaks. The loading platform door was open, with two wagons already unloading supplies. They were still two hours away from the opening ceremony, but people were starting to gather outside, their faces bright with happiness.

  “Here they come!”

  Carrie smiled when a woman’s voice broke through the noise of wagons and carriages. “Celia!”

  A slight woman with flaming red hair broke free from the group clustered in front of the building. “Hello, Carrie!” she called gladly. “Paddy came to tell me you were on the way.”

  Carrie could easily envision the little boy dashing through alleys between a maze of buildings to announce their arrival to his ma. She had learned the summer before that even though he was not yet eight years old, he knew the streets of Moyamensing like the back of his hand. She had never met a lad more resourceful. “Your son is a marvel.”

  “That he is,” Celia agreed. “This your ma and da?”

  Carrie quickly introduced her father and Abby.

  Celia stared deeply into her father’s eyes. “I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you have done here, Mr. Cromwell. Carrie and I have talked about Lord Cromwell. Sure enough, he was an evil man, but you and your daughter are proof it doesn’t carry through the generations.” She turned quickly, before he could respond, and waved to everyone watching. “Folks, this is Mr. Thomas Cromwell. He and his beautiful wife are the ones who have created this miracle for us!”

  The watching group broke into applause as Thomas stepped from the carriage and moved into the crowd to meet some of the onlookers. Carrie was prepared to do the same thing, but Abby stopped her with a hand on her arm. “There is a folder in the office that I need. Would you be so kind as to get it for me?”

  Carrie nodded, but couldn’t help wondering about the look on Abby’s face. Something about her request didn’t quite ring true, but her stepmother didn’t give her time to press. Carrie pushed down her sense of disappointment over not getting to talk to everyone and headed into the building.

  The office location was evident as soon as she walked into the three-story brick building. The door stood open, with a wide glass window looking out onto the factory. Just as in all Abby’s other factories, she had wanted employees to feel the office was always available to them for either questions or problems.

  Carrie stopped long enough to gaze out over the huge open area filled with tables, chairs, and machinery. She knew people had been coming in for training during the last two months, but this was the first day the entire factory would be open. It was to be a celebration the likes of which Moyamensing had probably never seen. Every worker’s entire family was coming, neighbors had been invited, and anyone who carried any title of importance would be there to celebrate the first factory to open in their impoverished area.

  Finally, she turned away and entered the office. The desks were well-spaced and clear. She frowned when she didn’t see a folder on any of them. She moved forward to look more closely, and then jolted to a stop as she stared in disbelief at the young man who had appeared around the corner from the back.

  “Hello, Carrie.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Georgia!” Carrie screamed. Her mind raced as she struggled to absorb the impossible. “How?” She stammered as she continued to stare. Thoughts swirled through her brain, but she seemed incapable of movement. “You’re my surprise,” she whispered.

  George smiled. “Janie insisted on keeping it a secret.”

  Carrie surged forward and wrapped him in a hug. “You can explain later. Right now I just want to feel you and actually know you are alive.”

  George laughed gladly. “It’s so good to see you, Carrie!” He returned the hug and then stepped back. “The rumors of my death were exaggerated,” he said lightly.

  “Obviously,” Carrie said ruefully, still trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. “Explain.” As George complied, she completely understood why Abby had sent her in alone. Except that… “Does Abby know?” she asked.

  George looked uncomfortable. “Only that you cared for me during the war and believed me to be dead. The fewer people who know, the better…” His voice trailed off apologetically.

  “I understand,” Carrie said. “You could completely trust Abby, but I understand why you are being so careful. I imagine I would be in your case, as well.”

  “Thank you,” George said fervently.

  Carrie looked around, realizing how far George had come from being an illiterate girl on a small farm who went to war with her brother. “Are you enjoying the factory?”

  George nodded vigorously. “More than I can possibly say. I enjoy the work, but it’s knowing the impact the factory is having on Moyamensing that means so much. My mother came over from Ireland with nothing but the clothes on her back. She told me so many stories about how bad thin
gs were in the Old Country, but that things weren’t really that much better here. She would be so happy to know what I’m doing now.”

  “As a man?” Carrie couldn’t resist asking as she raised an eyebrow playfully.

  George grinned. “There are some things it is better that a mother never know.” His eyes settled on Carrie’s stomach. “If your child ends up anything like you, there will probably be many things you would be better off not knowing.”

  Carrie laughed. “I’m sure that is very true. I constantly horrified my mother, but she knew only a fragment of all the things I did. God help her if she had known it all!”

  George nodded. “My point exactly.”

  The two friends laughed and chatted until Thomas and Abby appeared at the door.

  “George!” Thomas said warmly. “Abby just told me who the new office manager is. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you are still alive, and she tells me you are quite talented in your job.”

  George shook Thomas’ hand firmly. “Thank you, sir. It is an honor to have this privilege.”

  Carrie watched while George talked to her father. It was impossible to see any remnants of the frightened young man who was desperately hiding his true identity as a woman. George was obviously comfortable living as a man. Confidence radiated from him as he discussed office management with her father. It felt more than a little surreal to see him this way. She wondered if Janie had felt the same envy she was feeling now. She was somehow certain she had.

  ********

  It was later that afternoon before Carrie had an opportunity to talk to Janie. The ribbon had been cut. Speeches had been made. The first shipment of clothing created during the two months of training had been placed on the waiting wagons for its trip to the train station. The mountains of food that Moyamensing residents had loaded onto the tables had disappeared like fog before a blazing sun.