Spring Will Come (53 page)

             
“I’ve met the woman I want to marry.  I haven’t been able to see anyone except her from the first day I met her.”

             
“She won’t have you?”  Aunt Abby asked sympathetically.

             
“She has no idea how I feel.  I can’t tell her.”

             
Understanding began to dawn in Aunt Abby’s heart.  “Oh, Matthew...”

             
Matthew nodded.  “Carrie has eyes for no one but Robert,” he said hopelessly.  “I loved her the minute I laid eyes on her, the night you brought her to the dance here in the city.  I saw her from across the room.  The only thing important to me right then was to meet the beautiful girl exuberant with life.”

             
“And then you found out who she was.”

             
“I would never betray Robert.  Not that she would ever see me that way,” he added hastily. 

             
Aunt Abby’s heart went out to the young man.  She could not bear the pain in his eyes.  She struggled for the right thing to say. 

             
“I’m rather relieved you know,” Matthew went on.  “Just telling someone helps.  And I’m sure you understand because you know how special Carrie is.”  He paused.  “Promise me you’ll never tell her how I feel.”

             
“Of course,” Aunt Abby said softly.  “I promise.”

Rose stopped to watch the men driving the wagons full of firewood.  The mid-October day was still mild, but a few crisp nights had delivered the messag
e that winter was on its way.  All the signs indicated it was going to be a severe one.  She was sure it would not be as cruel as the winter she had experienced the year before in Philadelphia, but then she wasn’t exactly living in a warm, well-insulated home. 

             
“Annie won’t be at school the next few days,” Amos called as he drove the wagon by her.  “She has a right high fever.”

             
“I’ll check on her today,” Rose called back, watching as he waved and drove on.  It had taken Amos almost two months to recover from the beating the Union soldiers had given him.  With the exception of a slight limp, he was back to normal.  At least his body was.  There was a shadow in his eyes that never seemed to go away.  Rose had been out to their house many times since the incidence.  Harriet rarely left the house anymore – fear kept her hostage.  Every now and again, Rose could coax her outside if it was a particularly beautiful day, but she was never willing to go far from the porch.  The children did all the gardening and outdoor chores.

             
Rose had talked with Amos about it.  He had merely shrugged and said, “I don’t know if she’ll ever be the same.  Those soldiers roughed her up pretty bad.”  He wouldn’t say anything else.  Rose had learned not to ask.  It just made the shadows deeper. 

             
Annie was different.  She had shown up for school just a week after the attack.  Fear had been stamped on her face when she appeared at the door, but there had been a light of determination in her eyes.  School had been her salvation.  After a few weeks, the spontaneous crying had stopped, and the shine came back in her eyes.  There were still times she, trembling, clung to Rose, but they were fewer and further between. 

             
“Supper is ready,” June called from the porch.

             
Rose looked up, startled.   She had been so deep in thought she wasn’t even aware she was almost home.  Home was now a small, weather-beaten frame house on the edge of the Great Contraband Camp.  She and June had moved in less than a month earlier. From her front porch, she could see Slabtown.  She could also see the burned remains of Hampton.  It had been difficult to return to primitive conditions, but she didn’t regret her move.  She and June had grown very close, and Rose loved being more accessible to the people.  They had worked hard to make their little home comfortable and welcoming.  As promised, the superintendent had a new house built for Rose, but she and June had elected to give it to a newly arrived family of eight.  The two women were quite happy where they were.

             
“One of your students brung a pie by today,” June said, smiling.  “I declare...”

             
“Brought,” Rose corrected.  “One of my students brought a pie by today.”

             
“Brought a pie,” June repeated.  “I declare, I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to talk like you.”

             
“You’re doing very well,” Rose insisted, draping her light shawl on the hook by the door.  She sniffed the air appreciatively.  “Umm... Sweet potatoes.  My favorite!”

             
“I sure do like living with a teacher,” June laughed.  “I hardly have to cook at all.  Somebody is always bringing something.”  Just then little Simon squawked to get her attention.  Turning quickly, she scooped him up in her arms.  Little arms waved in the air as his cries turned to laughs of delight.  “Here.  Let your Aunt Rose take care of you for a minute.  I got to get dinner on the table.”

             
Rose reached for him eagerly.  She never grew tired of playing with her tiny nephew.  “Hello, sir.  Were you good for your mama today?”  She laughed as he kicked his feet and cooed, his eyes wide with delight.  Suddenly her heart caught.  What she would give to have a baby.  Would things ever settle down so she could?  Her mind drifted to Moses as it did dozens of time every day.  Their one night together had been so wonderful, but in many ways it had increased her loneliness.  Sometimes the ache of her missing him was a sharp physical pain.

             
“You got a class tonight?” June asked sharply.  “You’re looking real tired.”

             
Rose looked up from Simon.  “It seems to be a constant condition,” she said with a slight smile.  “No, I don’t have a class tonight.  Marianne gave me the night off.”  It was the first in ten days.  Students, hungry for knowledge, crowded the school both day and night. 

             
“Good!”  June declared.

             
“I’m going out to Annie’s house tonight.  She’s sick.”  June snapped her lips shut and turned back toward the stove.   Rose turned back to Simon.  She knew she was tired, but so was every other teacher.  They taught classes all day and night. When they weren’t teaching, they were trying to meet the other needs of their students.  Most of her spare time was spent taking care of the sick, handing our clothing and shoes, or finding food for new arrivals.  “You know I love my work,” she said, more to herself than to June.

             
June spun around from where she was standing by the stove.  “I know you do.  If you didn’t, so many folks wouldn’t be loving you.  But that don’t mean it makes sense for you to drive yourself into the ground.  You ain’t a slave no more, Rose.”

             
Rose almost laughed at the sparks flying from June’s eyes then she sobered.  “I’m definitely not a slave,” she said thoughtfully.  “I would never work this hard for someone else.  No, I’m working hard because this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”

             
June looked unconvinced.  “I may not be as smart as you, Rose, but I know the look of someone walking on the edge.  You don’t start taking care of yourself, you ain’t gonna have nothing to give anyone.”  Having spoken her mind, she turned back to the stove, her back rigid with disapproval. 

             
Rose continued to play with Simon, but her mind was pondering what June had said.  Without warning, nausea gripped her.  Taking a deep breath, she fought to control it. 

             
“What’s wrong?”  June asked sharply.

             
“I...”  Rose grabbed her stomach and bolted for the front porch.  Several minutes later she turned back toward the door. 

             
June reached out to help her back inside.  “What’d I tell you?” she said sternly.  “You been working too hard.”  Then she stared at Rose suspiciously.  “What’s that silly smile on your face for?”

             
Rose gazed at June quietly for a few minutes, hugging her secret to herself.  Her stomach had been doing strange things for several days.  She had ignored it and hoped she hadn’t gotten some bad water.  But now a knowing had gripped her, just as it must have gripped millions of women before her. 

             
Slowly, understanding dawned on June’s face.  “You mean...?”

             
Rose nodded, her smile growing wider.  “I’m going to be a mama,” she whispered.  Suddenly, more than anything in the world, she wanted her own mama to still be here.  She could imagine the explosion of delight on her face. 
“Rose girl, there ain’t nothin’ like bein’ a mama.  Ain’t nothin’ like knowin’ God done trusted you with one of his little ones.”

             
June laughed with delight as she squeezed Rose’s hands.  “You’re gonna be a mama!” she repeated.

             
Suddenly Rose was laughing out loud with her.  She was going to have a child!  After several minutes she sobered.  “What’s it like, June?  Being a mama without your Simon around?”

             
June frowned.  “It ain’t the way I want it, but having little Simon makes it a lot easier not to have my husband.  At least I have a part of him.  Every time I look at my baby, I think about the fact that somewhere I have a man who loves me.  Someday we’ll be together again.”

             
Rose drew strength from her words.  At the same time, her heart reached out - hoping that across the miles, Moses would hear - and know - he was going to have a son.  When would she see him again? 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

             
Consciousness came slowly, unfurling like tightly closed ferns before a spring sun.   Images shot through his mind in a dizzying spectacle.  Exploding cannons intermingled with the calls of newborn calves romping in green pastures.  Pictures of mutilated men overlaid the memory of his father’s death.  Soft breezes withdrew before furious storms.  Raging pain subsided into dull numbness. 

             
Robert...
  the whisper rolled through his mind again. 
Robert...
  The pictures quit spinning for just a moment.  Looking deep into the fog, he could make out laughing green eyes. 
Robert...
the voice became louder, more insistent.  He fought to free himself from the blackness shrouding his mind, pressing down on his body. 
Robert..!

             
Robert opened his eyes.  “Carrie...,” he groaned.  His words echoed back to him.  He was alone.   Disappointment collided with confusion.  Struggling to focus his eyes, he looked around.  Where was he?  What was the heavy weight pressing down on him, making him feel so very tired?  Gradually his mind cleared, and his brain registered what he was seeing.   Making no effort to move, Robert gazed around.

             
He was in a cabin.  The fire flickering in the stone fireplace seemed to have been made recently.   Place settings for four rested on the crudely made table in the center of the room. A vase full of greenery rested on the table.  Plain muslin curtains hung at the windows.  Chairs were scattered around the room.  He was lying in the only bed.  He looked at the quilt covering him then continued his inspection. Stairs leading upstairs to the loft must go to where his men slept.

             
His men?  His brow creased in confusion.  Where were his men?  Where was the rest of his unit?  Wherever he was, he had to get out of here.  General Lee would be calling for them any minute.  His confusion increased as fatigue pressed down on him again.  Sighing, Robert once more slipped into unconsciousness.