by Ginny Dye
“And you know this how?” Rose asked. “Is it because of the men you lost in the war?”
“No, that was different. The only reason I know is because Abby told me.”
Rose drew in a quick breath as she remembered. “Abby lost her husband.”
Moses nodded. “Charles died of cholera ten years ago. Abby had no family there, but she had a good friend who simply let her be with her grief. She told me she doesn’t remember a thing the friend said, but she does remember her being there, holding her hand, and letting her feel whatever she was feeling.”
Rose listened closely, knowing she was receiving the secret of how to help Carrie through her grief. “How could this have happened?” she finally murmured.
Moses scowled. “Ignorant men with a vendetta murdered Robert.”
“I don’t even know what happened,” she said as she realized it was the truth. “You disappeared, men attacked the plantation, I was shooting at them from our bedroom window, and then I saw Robert racing toward Amber. I remember hearing him yell, and then I saw him throw himself forward.” Her voice trailed away as she shuddered. “I saw Amber crawl out from under him, but he didn’t move again. And then suddenly you were standing in the house with Robert in your arms.”
Moses held her tightly as he told her the whole story.
“The school is all right?” Rose asked vaguely, realizing she didn’t really care. If they had gone ahead and burned the school, maybe Robert would still be alive, and Bridget would still be waiting to be born.
“It is,” Moses said. “I know this is little comfort right now, but the reality that it was the white parents who saved the school should tell you how much your decision to educate their children impacted them.”
Rose felt a surge of fury, followed closely by a crushing guilt. “And it also made us more of a target,” she said bitterly. She gasped for air as the reality hit her. “If I hadn’t opened the school to white children, the vigilantes would have stayed away.” She swayed in Moses’ arms. “Robert would still be alive.”
“Nonsense,” Moses said hoarsely. “Don’t think I haven’t felt everything you are feeling right now. If we hadn’t moved into the main house… If I had said no to the white students… If I wasn’t holding meetings in the school…” His voice choked. “Maybe Robert would still be alive.” He clenched his fists. “But none of that is true,” he said. “Robert is dead because so much hatred has been released into this country. He’s dead because he cared enough to save a little black girl that he loved with every fiber of his being. He’s dead because some ignorant white man thought it was okay to shoot a defenseless child standing in the door of a barn he was trying to burn down.”
Rose shrank closer to his body as she envisioned the scene from the night before. “If you hadn’t gotten here in time, they would have burned the barn,” she muttered. “They didn’t care that they had shot Robert. They were still racing straight for the barn until you and everyone else burst out of the woods. You stopped them.”
“Not in time,” Moses said, pain dripping from every word. “If I had gotten here even a minute earlier, Robert would still be alive.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Rose cried.
“Any more than you can,” Moses muttered, pulling her so close she thought his body might swallow hers.
Rose listened to the frogs and crickets filling the night air. Fireflies lined the foliage along the bank and danced through the oak tree hanging over the rock. The waves lapped against the pebbles lining the shore. All the things that had once given her peace were now nothing but a reminder of her best friend who was right now fighting for her life. “She can’t die,” she whimpered. “Carrie can’t die.”
She was grateful Moses didn’t try to convince her of something he couldn’t possibly know was true. He simply pulled her closer and held her.
Rose finally leaned back to stare up at him. “We’re not going anywhere,” she said quietly.
Moses gazed down at her. “No, we’re not. Neither one of us will leave Carrie now. Besides the fact that we love her, I owe my life to her, and both of us owe our freedom to her.” He managed a tight smile. “At least we know why I haven’t found anyone else to run the plantation. I’m going to continue running it.”
Rose shook her head. “You could still go on to college.”
“Stop,” Moses said, an edge of anger in his words. “I will never leave until I know Carrie is alright and rebuilding her life. I don’t know how long that will be, but it doesn’t matter. We are simply here. And we will be together. That’s all that matters.”
His simple statement filled Rose with the stark truth that it could just as easily have been Moses who had been killed by the vigilante’s bullet. Another thought broke through the fog. “Thomas?”
Moses sighed heavily. “About as you would expect,” he replied. “He is devastated but hanging on to the hope that Carrie will live. Everyone is together on the porch, trying to make sense out of all this. I don’t think any of us can focus on our grief over Robert and Bridget because we’re too afraid Carrie will die.”
“There is no making sense of this,” Rose cried, a fresh rush of pain threatening to crush her. “Bridget was so beautiful, Moses. She looked like a perfect combination of Carrie and Robert. Even over two months early, she still looked perfect.” Her voice crumpled. “Perfect…but so tiny.” Another thought crowded through her pain. “If Carrie had been here…when Robert was shot”—she gazed up at her husband—“could she have saved him?”
“I’m sure Carrie will want to know that, too,” Moses said. “Dr. Wild says there is no way anyone could have saved him. The bullet went through his back at an angle that collapsed both his lungs and nicked his heart—the reason there was so much blood. No one could have saved him. The fact that he stayed alive long enough for Carrie to get here was a miracle.”
“He loved her so much,” Rose managed to say. “He couldn’t leave until he told her good-bye, and until she promised she would tell their baby how much he loved her.” A fresh stab of pain speared her as she spoke the words. “She never got to do that.”
Both of them retreated into silence again. Rose finally stood. “We should go back. I want to be sure I am there when Carrie wakes up.”
“You need some sleep,” Moses protested. “You won’t be any good to her unless you get some rest.”
“I’ll sleep in the chair next to her,” Rose replied. “I am going to be there when she wakes up.”
Moses nodded. “Abby said you would say that. She pulled up two chairs next to the bed so that you would have one.”
********
Rose felt terrible the next morning, but she knew Carrie felt far worse. She thought she had slept a little in the uncomfortable wingback chair, but she wasn’t really certain. There had been no movement at all from the bed.
“Go get some breakfast and fresh air,” Abby urged her.
“You need some, too,” Rose protested as she bit back a yawn and stretched her cramped limbs.
“You’re right,” Abby agreed. “Annie will bring me some food. When you come back, I will take my turn.”
Rose nodded hesitantly. She knew Abby was right, but she hated the idea of Carrie regaining consciousness without her there.
Abby read her thoughts. “I promise I will have someone come find you if Carrie wakes up.”
Rose planted a warm kiss on Abby’s cheek and left the room. The house was unnaturally quiet. She was puzzled until she realized the sun had not yet topped the horizon. Everyone must be asleep. She knew they all had stayed up very late the night before, hoping against hope that Carrie would wake up. They had finally all given up and gone to bed.
Rose was suddenly hungry for air that didn’t smell like death and herbal ointments. She pushed through the front door, stopping on the porch to breathe in the fresh morning air full of lilacs and honeysuckle. Part of her felt guilty for even noticing the sweet aroma; part of her was grateful for the reminder t
hat there was still beauty in the world. She glanced up at the room where Carrie lay fighting for her life, and then strode out into the dawn. She had heard Moses leave a little earlier, heading out into the fields to give his men an update and get them started on a new day’s work. In spite of all that had happened, the tobacco was not going to quit growing, and work still needed to be done.
Rose pushed aside the image of Robert’s dead body. Moses’ final act last night had been to carry his friend’s corpse out to the wooden casket that Miles and Clint had built. They were hoping to wait until Carrie woke up before they had the funeral, but she didn’t know if it was possible. She glanced back up at the window. “Wake up, Carrie…” she whispered. “Wake up”
As she walked toward the barn, unsure why she was heading toward the spot Robert had died, she heard the muffled sound of sobbing. She stopped, listened carefully, and then walked behind the structure. She found the source of the crying beneath the towering oak tree that shaded the southern corner of the barn during the long summer months. Rose rushed forward and sank down onto her knees. “Amber,” she said gently as she pulled the grief-stricken child into her arms.
Amber cried even harder when she felt Rose’s arms, sinking deep into her body. Rose held her tightly, remaining silent as she let her cry it out. Polly had told her the little girl had cried all the way home after Robert had been shot, but that she had been stoically silent since she had found out he died. Now, huddled against the tree, Amber was releasing her pain and grief.
“Robert!” Amber wailed, her little body clenching in a spasm as agony poured through her.
Rose stroked her hair but remained silent. There were no words that could ease this kind of pain. After what seemed like an eternity, Amber finally fell quiet, but her little body was still tight and tense.
“I’m real sorry I killed Robert,” she whispered.
Rose leaned back so she could tilt Amber’s face to meet hers. “You didn’t kill Robert, honey,” she said.
Amber shook her head, her eyes full of a devastated knowing. “If I hadn’t snuck out to the barn to be with All My Heart, he wouldn’t have had to save me,” she whimpered. “I’m the reason Robert is dead.” Her face twisted with another fresh pain. “And I’m the reason Carrie’s baby is dead.” She looked at the house fearfully. “And now Carrie might die. All because of me.”
Rose understood her feelings all too well. “That’s not true, Amber, but I know how you feel. I told Moses last night that it was my fault.”
“Weren’t your fault,” Amber said flatly.
“I’m the one who let white children come to the school,” Rose said. “I’m the one who made the vigilantes so angry. If I hadn’t done that, Robert would still be alive.” Sometime during the long night, she had reached the realization that she wasn’t responsible. Now she had to help Amber understand the same thing.
“Weren’t your fault,” Amber repeated. “Them were real bad men.”
“Yes, they were,” Rose agreed, “but they wouldn’t have been here if I had left things alone.”
Amber shook her head again. “My mama and daddy said they were just bad men who would have come here no matter what because they got so much hate inside.”
“I think your mama and daddy were right,” Rose said softly, continuing to stroke her head. “Honey, what made you come out of the barn?”
Amber thought for a moment. “I heard shots,” she said. “I reckon I fell asleep with All My Heart once I snuck out there. Then something woke me up.”
“That’s right,” Rose said. “Shots woke you up. Were there a lot of them?”
“Sure sounded like a lot,” Amber replied in a frightened voice. “When I came out there was still a lot of shots.”
“So Robert could have been shot before,” Rose prompted.
Amber thought about that for a moment and then shook her head, her face wilting under the memory. “He weren’t killed by them other shots.”
“That’s right,” Rose said gently, “but he could have been.” She took a deep breath. “Robert was shot saving the little girl he loved like a daughter.” She gripped Amber even closer. “Robert would have done anything for you, Amber. I already know he is glad he saved your life.”
“How do you know?” Amber demanded. “Did he tell you?”
“He told Carrie.”
Amber leaned back and stared up at her. “What did he say?” she asked in a trembling voice.
Rose repeated it just as Robert had said it. “Tell Amber… I would do it again. I want her to have a great life. You tell her I loved her just like she was my own.”
Amber’s eyes bored into her. “He said it just like that?”
“Just like that,” Rose promised.
“He wasn’t mad at me?” Amber’s voice was filled with disbelief.
“He had nothing to be mad at, honey. Robert was killed by some very bad men with evil and hatred in their hearts. He was so glad he saved your life. He loved you very much.”
Amber dissolved into fresh tears, but Rose knew they were a different kind of tears that would begin the slow healing her heart would need. Once again, she held the little girl and let her cry, thinking of all the times her mama had held her just like this. The grief would take a long time to heal, but it was better that she wouldn’t carry the belief she had been responsible for Robert’s death.
A long time passed before Amber lifted her head again. “What do we do now, Rose?”
Rose took a deep breath. It was the same question she was asking herself almost every moment. “We keep moving forward,” she murmured as she thought about the moments she and Moses had shared with Carrie and Robert on the porch on Christmas Eve. Her heart constricted as she remembered Robert’s laughing eyes and vibrant energy. “We keep moving forward, honey.”
“How?”
Rose stared out at the pasture full of playful yearlings. She watched as two bay colts twirled on their back legs as they batted at each other. Suddenly, she remembered what her mama had said when her husband had died so soon after returning. “We remember all the good times,” Rose said firmly. “We have to be grateful for all the times we had with Robert while he was alive.” She took courage from her own words, knowing her mama was reaching through her grief to help her yet again. “Robert would want you to be happy,” she whispered. “He would want to know you were doing everything you ever dreamed of doing.”
Amber listened with a frown. “I dreamed of doing everything with Robert.”
Rose’s heart constricted. “I know, honey. It always hurts to lose someone you love, but you never really lose them.”
“He ain’t coming back,” Amber said. “Clint told me that.”
“No,” Rose agreed, “he’s not coming back, but he is never going to leave your heart. You are always going to have the things he taught you. You are always going to have the memories of the things you did together.” A shrill whinny cut the air. Rose looked up with the first smile she had smiled since the gunfire had split the night. “And you are always going to have All My Heart,” she added softly. “Robert gave her to you because he loved you so much. Every time you look at her you can remember that.”
Amber stared out at the pasture, her little face puckered in thought.
“Do you remember the day Robert gave you All My Heart?” Rose asked.
Amber nodded vigorously. “Of course I do! I remember every minute of that day.”
“Do you remember the love in Robert’s eyes? Do you remember how happy he was that he could give you All My Heart?”
Amber’s eyes filled with tears again, but a slight smile twitched at her lips. “I remember. It was the best day of my life.”
“That is how Robert would want you to remember him,” Rose said.
Amber thought about those words for a long time. “It’s still gonna hurt,” she finally said.
“Yes,” Rose agreed hoarsely. “It’s going to hurt for a very long time.” She stared up at the sky barely vis
ible through the leafy green canopy covering them. “It’s going to hurt all of us who loved him.” As the leaves rustled in the breeze, she remembered something else her mama had told her. “And someday we’ll even be glad.”
“Glad Robert was killed?” Amber asked in a horrified voice.
“No,” Rose assured her quickly. “We’ll never be glad of that, but someday the hurt will disappear enough for us to be glad we had Robert in our life.”
Amber considered that for a long time before she slowly nodded. “I remember everything about my time with Robert,” she said slowly. “We been real close ever since he woke up in our house after that bad battle in the war.”
“He told me about that,” Rose replied. “You saved his life.” She took a deep breath. “And you saved it again when you gave him a reason to live after the war ended and he was so sick.”
Amber stared at her. “And now he saved my life,” she whispered. “I wish he wouldn’t have had to die to save me. I’m going to miss him every day for the rest of my life.”
“Me too, honey,” Rose managed to say as fresh tears clogged her throat. She pulled Amber close again. “But I’m sure glad he saved you.”
********
Matthew was exhausted when the train finally pulled into the Philadelphia station. There had been one delay after another since he had left Nashville, but he was finally home, three days later than he had planned. He could hardly wait to take Janie in his arms and enjoy a night alone with her. She had wanted to meet him at the station, but he had insisted she wait for him since he wasn’t sure if the train would be on time.
When he disembarked from his car, he grabbed his bag from the luggage rack and began to look around for a carriage to hire.
“Matthew!”
Matthew whipped his head around, surprised to see Janie pushing her way through the crowd. His immediate reaction of delighted pleasure faded as soon as she was close enough to see her face. He steeled himself for whatever news she had for him. “What is it?” he asked quietly. “What happened?”