Carried Forward By Hope (62 page)

Susan smiled smugly. “They believe their horses can out jump my mare. We teach them differently.”

Mark chuckled. “She didn’t name her Silver Wings by mistake. This lady really does seem to fly over jumps.”

Susan grinned. “I must admit, however, I’ve never tried to jump her over a solid six-foot fence bareback,” she said. “Nor have I ever jumped her with a bullet in my shoulder.”

Carrie grinned. “I’d say we have a lot of stories to exchange,” she said happily.

Mark vaulted off his chestnut gelding and handed her the reins. “Thunder has plenty of energy left. Riding him will save time.”

Carrie nodded, and allowed Robert to boost her into the saddle. She looked at Susan. “Lead the way!”

******

Four days later, Robert and Carrie drove the wagon, full to the brim with family heirlooms Carrie insisted he keep, back down the drive. He had been prepared to leave everything, but she convinced him he would want memories of his boyhood home.

“What a wonderful time,” Carrie breathed as she turned to wave goodbye to Mark and Susan again. She had spent most of her time in the saddle either riding with Robert or Susan. Robert had taken her to all his secret, special places. They had picnicked by the stream, laid under the stars in the meadows, and stood on the same bluff Robert had looked down from when Matthew saved Oak Meadows. They had wonderful meals with Mark and Susan, staying up late to talk and laugh around the fireplace that warded off the early fall chill. “It was the honeymoon we never had,” she said softly, knowing she would carry the memories with her for the rest of her life.

Robert smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “I’m thankful every day that the war is over, but this last week with you has released something in me that has taken my gratitude to a new level.”

“Because you know you’re not going to be called into battle tomorrow,” Carrie replied, remembering all the wrenching goodbyes when she couldn’t possibly know if she would ever see her husband alive again.

“Yes,” Robert murmured. “I can’t even begin to tell you what it was like to be in the midst of so much death and destruction. The memory of your face was the only thing that kept me going so many times, but I always felt guilty bringing your perfect beauty onto a battlefield.”

Carrie ached as she saw the haunted look flicker in his eyes. His nightmares were getting better, but she wondered if he would ever be completely free from the memories that assailed him when he closed his eyes. “It’s over now,” she said gently.

Robert took a deep breath and shook his head. “You’re right,” he said firmly. “Sometimes it reaches out to grab me and suck me back into the darkness, but it happens less and less,” he said with relief.

“Are you regretting selling Oak Meadows?” she asked, wondering if the loss was triggering the new wave of memories.

“No,” Robert responded immediately. “If anything, I am more convinced than ever that I’ve done the right thing. I’m ready to walk away from my past and create a brand new future with you. I love Oak Meadows, but there is a part of me that wonders if the horrible things that happened here would ever completely release me. I’ve changed so much, but I don’t want reminders of those times.” He stared off into the distance. “I will always want Clint to work with me. I couldn’t imagine bringing him or Amber to a place where I had a six-year-old boy killed.” His face clouded.

Carrie leaned against him. “We all have done things we regret,” she said tenderly. “But not enough of us change our lives so that we’ll never repeat those things. You have.” She reached up and turned his head so their eyes would meet. “I’m very proud of you.”

Robert leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered.

When they reached the gates of Oak Meadows, he stopped the wagon and turned for one final long look. Then he turned his face toward Cromwell Plantation and headed home.

******

Rose sang softly as she walked to school. June had left earlier to prepare the classroom so Rose could spend more time that morning with John. She frowned as she thought about the fever making him cranky — he had cried when she left that morning. Janie had promised to take care of him, but she couldn’t get his imploring eyes out of her mind. How had her own mother stood it when her little girl was moved into the big house, and she’d only been able to see her on Sundays? She would go mad if she couldn’t be with John every day.

Gazing up the road, she wondered when Carrie would return. She had received the letter about her and Robert’s trip to Oak Meadows, but it had been more than two weeks since they had left. The medical clinic was complete and people stopped by every day to find out when they would start seeing people. She knew, though, that the biggest issue was how much she missed her best friend. After four years of separation, she treasured every moment they had together. Rose knew the day would probably come when they would be apart again, but she certainly wasn’t ready for it to happen any time soon.

Rose sighed and forced her mind to focus on other things. She scolded herself for being melancholy when she had so much to be thankful for. There were now sixty children in her school, with eighty adults coming seven nights a week. The adults came in tired and dirty from their work, but very few of them missed a night. They were determined to get the education that had been withheld from them for their whole lives. She and June were switching off nights so she could spend time with John, but she knew her schedule couldn’t continue for long now that her pregnancy was advancing. She still had almost three months to go, but she had learned her lesson the hard way at the contraband camp when she had almost lost John because of exhaustion. She wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

Rose scowled when she realized her mind had once more drifted into dark thoughts. What was wrong with her?

“Miz Samuels! Miz Samuels!”

Rose was jolted out of her thoughts by a high-pitched little voice. She recognized Sarah racing down the dusty road toward her. She knelt down and caught the young girl’s hand as she drew near. “Hello, Sarah,” she said calmly, able to breathe more easily when she didn’t see trouble in Sarah’s eyes.

“Miz Samuels! It done happened, Miz Samuels!”

Rose smiled at the unrestrained excitement and joy in Sarah’s eyes. “What happened, honey?” she asked quietly.

“They came together,” Sarah cried. “Just like you said they would! All them letters just came together!”

Rose sucked in her breath. “You’re reading?”

“Yessum! I done read to my mama out of dat book you sent me home with — the one about the horses.” Sarah’s eyes shone with pride. “My mama done cried and cried when I read to her. She said she’d been dreamin’ about readin’ most all her life, from the time she was about my age. I reckon I sho made her happy!”

Rose laughed and hugged Sarah warmly. “You made your mama
and
me happy,” she assured her. There was simply nothing that gave her more joy than helping someone learn.

“Mama learned how to read last week,” she confided. “She and Daddy both came home and sat right down by the fire readin’ to each other. I heard her tell my daddy that she feels like she’s been walking in the dark her whole life, and that now it’s like a big ole sun is shinin’ on her all the time!”

Rose made no attempt to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. She might be tired, and she might miss Carrie, and she might wish she didn’t have to leave John when he was sick, but suddenly it was all worth it again. Helping her people walk from darkness into the sunshine was all she wanted to do.

Sarah frowned and patted her cheek. “You be okay, Miz Samuels? I didn’t make you feel sad did I?” Her tiny face puckered with worry.

“Not a bit,” Rose assured her with a watery laugh. “You’ve made me happy!”

Sarah peered at her and nodded. “Then them be happy tears!” she announced brightly.

Rose smiled and hugged her closer. The little girl would never know how much she had needed her news that morning.

******

Rose settled into a rocker on the porch, grateful for the cool breeze blowing over her body. It was October, but Indian summer still had Virginia in its grip. John, his fever gone, was snuggled on her lap with his head resting on her shoulder and his big eyes drowsy. Rose hummed softly as she rocked her son, smiling tenderly when she felt the baby in her womb give a kick. Moments later, John’s body went lax as he fell asleep.

“It’s a perfect evening,” Janie said softly, speaking quietly so she wouldn’t disturb John.

“That it is,” Rose said contentedly, drawing in deep breaths of fragrant air that carried the smells of the freshly cut oats and wheat. A call from down the road made her turn her head. She smiled when she spotted Moses and Simon striding rapidly down the road. “They must have good news, or they wouldn’t be moving so fast,” she observed.

Moses was grinning when he strode up onto the porch, Simon right behind him. Both of them reached for the pitcher of water, poured tall glasses, and downed them before they settled into two of the rocking chairs. “The harvest is finished,” Moses announced, his white teeth flashing in a wide smile.

“Congratulations!” Rose cried. The men and their families had all been working hard the last week to harvest the crop of oats and wheat. She had ridden out several nights ago to watch them cut the stalks and bind them together into shocks. Not wanting to take a chance on rain ruining the crop, they had worked late every night to haul the shocks in wagons into one of the barns. Soon they would take the wagons to the local thresher.

“Is it a good crop?” Janie asked.

Simon nodded firmly. “It’s a good crop.” His eyes were shining.

A good crop meant good wages for all the men. “All of you deserve it,” Rose said warmly. “Everyone has worked so hard.”

Moses nodded. “Just a couple more days and we’ll harvest the tobacco. It could be cut now, but it wouldn’t be as high a quality. I’m determined to make this first crop as profitable as I can. Next year most of the fields will be planted in tobacco.”

Rose knew he had been spending hours poring over reports from the years before the war. Thomas’s office, now her husband’s office, had become his sanctuary as he studied all the records and profit sheets. Her heart swelled with pride, but she felt a catch in her heart when she looked over and saw Simon staring out over the pasture, a hard look on his face. There was something in his posture that worried her.

“Simon?” she asked gently. “What is it?”

Simon glanced at Moses and then turned to look at her, a shadow of sadness in his eyes. “A friend came through a couple days ago. He served with me and Moses. He lives down in South Carolina.” His sadness dissolved into a scowl. “I should say
lived
.”

“Bad news?” Rose asked.

“I’m afraid so. We must have gotten all the rain that the Deep South didn’t get. The drought has about destroyed the cotton and rice crops,” he said heavily. “It’s making a bad situation even worse.”

Moses stood and poured another glass of water. “The freed slaves were already struggling. They agreed to work in exchange for a portion of the harvest profits. Now there won’t be anything. Families who were already starving will have a difficult time making it through the winter,” he said heavily. His eyes flashed anger. “Families who are trying to leave and find a better opportunity are being beaten and whipped.”

“What?!” Rose cried. “Isn’t anything being done to stop it?” When Moses shrugged and averted his eyes, she became more frightened. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked sternly. “I will not be protected from knowing what is happening.”

Moses sighed. “Samson told us the plantation owners down there are determined to treat the freed slaves just like they did before we were free.” He stopped talking, his face tight with tension as the silence thickened.

“What he doesn’t want to tell you,” Simon said bitterly, “is that Samson snuck away one night because he saw some of his friends murdered for saying they were going to leave. Others were killed because they weren’t working the way the owner wanted them to or they had the audacity to dispute their labor contracts.” He scowled and got up to pace around the porch. “One of the men in our unit refused to be bound and whipped when the owner found him coming back onto the plantation after going to church.”

What’s wrong with that?” Janie asked indignantly.

“He didn’t have a pass,” Simon said flatly. “The owners don’t want any of the laborers leaving the plantation. When he refused to be bound and whipped, the man pulled out a pistol and killed him.” His eyes were heavy with grief. “They killed Otis.”

Rose gasped and began to cry. “Will it ever end?” she whispered. “What will ever make it end?”

Moses crossed to her and took her hand but remained silent. Rose knew he was battling his own grief and fury, and she also knew he didn’t have any answers to give.

*****

Annie walked out onto the porch with a platter of warm cookies. She usually just brought food onto the porch and returned to the kitchen, but tonight she settled down into the remaining rocker and handed the platter to Rose.