Carried Forward By Hope (6 page)

“You paint an ugly picture,” Jeremy said, protest in his eyes.

Moses eyed him sympathetically. “You said you wanted to know.” He paused. “It doesn’t have to be that way for you though.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s only a few people who know who you really are.” Moses took a deep breath. “It can stay that way. You can keep living your life as a white man.”

Jeremy stared at him hard and managed a tight smile. “I hate that I have to admit I’ve thought about it.”

“And…?”

“No.”

“Why not? It would make things so much easier for you,” Moses insisted. “It doesn’t mean you have to give up your relationship with Rose.”

“Have you talked with Rose about this?” Jeremy asked suddenly.

Moses nodded. “She knows what I know. She loves you too much to want you to be hurt.”

Jeremy nodded and smiled again, a genuine smile that lit his face. “I know.” He looked out over the street and watched a carriage roll by with an elegantly dressed woman who smiled up at him until she saw Moses. Her smile vanished and became an angry look of disdain — obvious anger at the impertinence of a black man sitting in the presence of a white man on a front porch in a white neighborhood. She averted her eyes quickly.

Jeremy merely stared at her and turned back to Moses. “There has been too much hiding. Too much deception.” He drew a deep breath. “My father hid the truth for all my life. My mother hid the truth. The Cromwells hid the truth. The trouble is that the truth has a way of always coming out.”

He reached over, plucked a leaf from the magnolia tree, and twirled it between his fingers. “What would happen if I chose to live as a white man?” he asked. “I would have to deny who Rose is to me. I won’t do it. I also know that even if I marry a white woman, I have the chance of fathering a black baby. It would be totally unfair to hide that from someone I love.”

He tossed the leaf over the railing and watched as it settled onto the grass. “I will not be the cause of more deception. I am who I am. I am the son of a wonderful black slave named Sarah and a careless, arrogant slave owner who only viewed her as property. I have a remarkable twin who has beautiful, ebony skin. I am the half-brother of a man I have tremendous respect for and the uncle of one of the finest women I know. I would never deny my connection to Carrie. I am also the son of two wonderful adoptive parents who loved me and who also loved the black people they served. I will not hide behind white skin and blue eyes. I don’t know exactly what all of it will mean, but I will live it as it comes.”

“You’ve thought about it more than you admitted,” Moses said after a long silence.

Jeremy just shrugged and smiled. “I’m also rather fond of my brother-in-law and nephew. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

John chose that moment to wake up. He reached up and patted Moses’s face. “Hi, Daddy,” he said sleepily. He looked around and spotted Jeremy. “Hi, Jer’me!” he said brightly, holding out his arms.

Jeremy grinned and scooped him over to sit on his lap. “Hello there, nephew. Want to go play in the backyard until dinner?”

John nodded happily. “Play!”

Jeremy winked at Moses as he set John on the ground and rose to take his hand. “At least I have a little while before I have to try and explain it to him.” He laughed and swung John down from the porch in a giant arc that sent the little boy into spasms of giggles.

*******

Carrie and Janie worked until long after dinner. They treated bloody wounds, set broken arms and legs, and dispensed food to starving soldiers. After four years of war, they could do it almost without thinking. It was the questions that were the most difficult. How did one answer questions that simply had no answers? Certainly ones she couldn’t comprehend herself.

Carrie supposed she understood the anger that had resulted in the attacks, but she also knew it had been completely misplaced — black anger spilling over onto white men who had nothing to do with Lincoln’s assassination. She also knew it would do nothing but make it harder for Richmond to heal the deep divisions over race.

“The war is supposed to be over!” Janie said angrily.

Carrie shrugged, relieved when another wounded soldier called her over.

“Are you Mrs. Borden?” The question came from a skinny lad with shaggy brown hair and piercing brown eyes. His right arm was splinted, and bruises and welts covered his body.

“Yes, I am,” Carrie said gently. “What can I do for you?”

“My name is Alex. I served with your husband.”

Carrie reached down to grasp his hands. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt.”

Alex shook his head. “I’ll be all right. I been hurt worse lots of times. I called you over here to ask about Captain Borden. I was the one who got him to the hospital wagon. He was pretty bad off. How is he, ma’am?”

Carrie’s heart swelled with gratitude as tears filled her eyes. “Alex…” she murmured as she squeezed his hands tightly. “I’ve always wanted someone to thank. All they told me was that someone got Robert into the wagon and said to make sure he got help quickly.”

“I wish I could have done more, ma’am.” Alex hesitated. “The captain…?

“Is doing just fine,” Carrie said firmly, deciding to not reveal how tenuous his health was. “He was very sick, but he’s getting better every day.” She leaned down to kiss Alex softly on the brow. “He has you to thank for that. As do I.”

Alex smiled. “I sure am glad, Mrs. Borden. Captain Borden is a fine man.” He looked up into her eyes shyly. “He used to talk about you all the time. Now I know why. You’re even prettier than he said.”

Carrie smiled softly.

Alex wasn’t done. “The captain just wouldn’t stop,” he said. “I knew he was getting real sick, but all he could think about was all of us. We didn’t hardly get to eat, but he ate even less. He wanted to make sure we had all we could. I tried to get him to eat, but he would just say he was fine.” He frowned. “I knew he wasn’t. He held on ‘til it was all over. Then it was just kinda like he gave up. I knew all he wanted was to get back home to you.”

Carrie made no attempt to stop the tears rolling down her face. “Thank you so much, Alex,” she whispered. “It’s because of you that my husband is still alive.” Her breath caught. “And then you were attacked!”

Alex shrugged again. “Like I said, I been hurt way worse. Can I get out of here soon? I’m eager to get back home to my farm.” He paused, a shadow coming into his eyes. “If it’s still there. I know lots of places aren’t.”

Carrie could tell his thoughts were far away. Her heart ached at the look of yearning on his face. “I hope it’s still there for you, Alex,” she murmured, unable to keep her thoughts from flying to the fields of Cromwell Plantation. “You are going to get a chance to start over.”

“Yes, ma’am, I reckon I am,” Alex said wearily. “Things sure didn’t turn out the way we hoped, but at least I’m still alive. My arm may be broken, but at least I still have it. That’s more than I can say for a lot of the fellas.”

Carrie pressed his hands again. “You’ve got a whole life ahead of you,” she whispered through her tears. “If my husband or I can ever do anything for you, please let us know.”

Alex smiled. “Thank you for that, ma’am. It’s enough just to know the captain is okay. You tell him I said hello.”

“I will,” Carrie promised. “I know he would want to come down, but he’s still too ill.”

Alex nodded. “Just knowing is enough. I reckon I’ll be out of here in a day or two. I’m going to head home right away. I’d already be close except for them soldiers attacking me, but then I wouldn’t have found out about Captain Borden, so I reckon some good came out of it.”

Carrie looked at him more closely. “You’re rather remarkable,” she said suddenly. “I’ve met so many soldiers who are bitter and angry. Why aren’t you?” she asked bluntly.

“You can thank your husband,” Alex responded promptly. “We used to have right long talks while we were waiting for battles, or while we were marching to escape the Yankees.” He paused, remembering. “I had me enough bitterness and anger for a bunch of men, but the captain told me it would just eat me up and leave me with nothing. He told me things would always happen that would be hard, but it was up to me how I dealt with it.” He was the one to give Carrie’s hands a tight squeeze. “He told me his wife taught him all that, so I reckon I got you to thank too.”

Carrie smiled through her tears, only moving away from Alex’s bed when she was called by another soldier. “I’ll check on you later,” she promised.

When she finished caring for her last patient and everyone was asleep, she slipped over to say goodbye to Alex, smiling softly when she saw he was sleeping soundly. His face had softened to reveal just how young he really was. She laid her hand on his forehead gently, said a quick prayer, and turned away.

Janie was waiting for Carrie by the door, her eyes clouded with fatigue, but her face peaceful.

Only then did Carrie realize how tired she was. “Long day,” she said simply.

“It felt good,” Janie replied. “It will be hard when I get to Raleigh and I don’t have a way to make a difference.”

Carrie’s gut tightened as she gazed into her friend’s eyes and saw the pain and fear she was trying to hide. She grabbed Janie’s hand and pulled her over to stand under a tall oak tree next to the hospital entrance. Spencer was waiting in the carriage across the street, but she knew he would wait for as long as needed. “We need to talk before we go home,” she said quietly.

Janie opened her mouth to protest and then simply nodded.

“I’m so worried about you, Janie. So much has happened that I almost missed how angry Clifford has become.”

Janie’s blue eyes shimmered with tears. “He has changed. Losing the war has changed him.”

“
Losing
the war?”

“Yes. Losing his arm was hard, but he still believed the South would go back to the way it was and he would pick up his life where he left it in Raleigh.”

“And he no longer believes that?”

“He believes losing the war has destroyed everything he holds dear,” Janie explained. “He is terrified of what will happen now that all the slaves are free. He is afraid of them revolting against the white people, just like they have in the last day when they attacked all the soldiers.”

Carrie looked at her more closely. “And you? How do you feel?”

Janie stared into her eyes and shook her head helplessly. “His fear is rubbing off on me,” she admitted slowly, her eyes begging for understanding. “You know I don’t have a prejudice against black people and that I’m so glad the slaves are free…”

“But…?”

“I guess I never really thought of what it would be like in the South if two million slaves suddenly had their freedom.” Janie searched for words. “What do you believe is going to happen?”

Carrie spoke carefully. “I don’t believe there are any easy answers,” she said slowly. “I know that slavery simply had to end. Now that it has, I think everyone is going to have to figure out what life will be like.”

“Are you scared?” Janie asked suddenly. “Are you scared of what will happen?”

Carrie made sure her answer was true before she gave it. “No. I believe there are two million slaves who are way more frightened than any of us are. I believe they simply want an opportunity to become educated and live their lives as they want to. I believe they want to know they will never be separated from their loved ones by the auction block and that they want to reunite from the people they have been torn apart from.” She paused and looked up into the leaves of the tree as a wind sprang up to toss them in a merry dance. A glance over Janie’s shoulder revealed the last glimmer of light on the horizon before darkness cloaked the day.

“I don’t believe they are looking for more fighting. I’m sure there are some who are angry and looking for revenge, just as there are with white people looking for the same. But that’s not a racial issue, it’s just a morality issue. Those of us who believe in their right to freedom have to stand up for them and do everything we can to help them live as free people.”

“But what if the white people won’t let it happen?” Janie asked.

Carrie looked deeply into her friend’s eyes and saw something that troubled her. “Do you know something?”

Janie hesitated but shook her head. “Clifford talks all the time about how the southern man will never allow blacks to be their equal. He doesn’t tell me how, but he tells me there are already plans to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Carrie’s heart squeezed with sorrow and regret. “So they’re not going to let the war end?”

Janie only shook her head again. “I just don’t know,” she whispered, fear and pain shining in her eyes.

Carrie gave her a warm hug. “None of that matters right now,” she said bluntly. “Right now I’m only worried about you. Clifford’s anger is growing. So is your fear.” She stepped back to stare into Janie’s eyes. “You’re afraid of your husband.”

Janie opened her mouth in automatic refusal but closed it, her weight sagging against Carrie as tears filled her eyes. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice raw with pain. “I am afraid of him.”

“What are you going to do?” Carrie asked evenly, fighting to keep her voice calm.