by Ginny Dye
Marcus nodded. “We been doing a lot since last summer. We been holding mass meetings and putting together committees. Once we got everything in place, we be going to the right public officials to present our case. Last July there was even some of us who went up to Alexandria to the Convention of the Colored People of Virginia.” His eyes glowed with pride. “I gots to go. It was really something seeing all those black people in one place willing to fight for our rights.”
Jeremy listened closely. “The black community seems to be doing all the right things,” he observed. “What do you need me for?”
“We’re figuring it all out,” Marcus admitted, “but John Oliver says it be real important to have some white people on our side. He says there gonna be times when we need the white voice to make our point.”
“He knows I’m mulatto?” Jeremy asked.
“Yes, but the white people don’t,” Marcus replied.
Jeremy took a deep breath. “I was fired from my job last year because word got around.”
Marcus frowned. “I wasn’t aware of that.” His brow creased with thought. “How many people knew?”
Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t really know. Things were rather chaotic. I was just called in one day and told my kind didn’t have a place in the Richmond government anymore.”
Marcus considered his words. “Them people that fired you still here?”
Jeremy stared at him as his mind raced. “No,” he finally said. “They all went home to other states…” His voice trailed off as he thought of the ramifications of his own words.
“They likely didn’t tell many people,” Marcus observed. “Like you said, things be kinda wild back then. Anybody said anything since you been working on the factory?”
“No,” Jeremy admitted.
“I think you would have heard if that kind of rumor was still going around,” Marcus said. “People know you’re Thomas’s brother?” He smiled when Jeremy nodded. “I think your secret is safe, at least for a while,” he concluded. “You’ll help us a whole heap more if you just keep on being white.”
Jeremy nodded slowly. He’d heard nothing else about his racial heritage in the months since he had been let go. He’d been consumed with building the factory, but it was still likely that word of any rumors would have reached him, or at least Thomas. “That could be true,” he finally murmured. “So, how can I help?” he asked with a grin.
Marcus laughed. “I’d like you to meet the rest of the committee.” He paused. “I reckon you know most of them already.”
Jeremy eyed him. “How…?” He stopped and chuckled. “They work here?”
Marcus smiled. “You pay the best wages in town,” he said. He suddenly frowned. “You do know the other white folks ain’t gonna be happy with you, don’t you? It ain’t just about the whites you got working here. And it ain’t about you having a black mama. Just the factory gonna cause you a lot of trouble. Helping us gonna make things worse for you,” he warned. “Them Black Codes ain’t here yet, but they be coming. They’s gonna make things harder for all of us.”
Jeremy nodded. “We know,” he replied calmly. “We decided doing the right thing was more important than worrying about how people might react to it.”
Evidently satisfied, Marcus sat back in his chair and looked at him. “So you’ll meet with everyone?”
“Absolutely,” Jeremy said promptly. “Where and when?”
“We meet at the Second African Baptist Church every Wednesday night at seven o’clock.”
“I’ll be there on Wednesday,” Jeremy promised.
“You can’t just come down there all by yourself!” Marcus exclaimed.
“Will I be in danger?”
Marcus hesitated. “Resentment ain’t just on the white side,” he finally said. “Most folks down in the black quarters ain’t gonna do nothing, but there be some that are just angry at anything white.”
“Just like there are whites angry at anything that’s black,” Jeremy observed, realizing Marcus spoke the truth.
Marcus nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you on the corner of Broad Street in front of the hardware store. Have Spencer stop to pick me up.”
Jeremy smiled. “I should probably be surprised you know Spencer, but I have a feeling you know far more about me than I suspect.”
Marcus remained silent, but his eyes sparkled with humor.
Jeremy suddenly barked a laugh. “Let me guess. Spencer is part of the committee.”
Marcus merely smiled. “You’ll know more on Wednesday night. We learned a long time ago to keep some things hidden.”
“The secret societies,” Jeremy responded.
Marcus frowned. “What you be knowing about that?”
“Not much,” Jeremy replied quickly. “Some of the men from Cromwell Plantation have family here in Richmond. They brought news back to Moses about secret societies being formed to make sure the blacks are taken care of. We talked about it over Christmas.”
Marcus relaxed. “I may know more about you than you suspect, but obviously you know more about the black community than I suspected. I reckon both of them are good things.”
Jeremy nodded. “I reckon you’re right,” he said easily, confident he had found a new friend in Marcus. He stood and reached out a hand. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Marcus stood and grasped his hand tightly. “You may not look like your daddy, but you sure enough act like Pastor Anthony.”
Jeremy felt a sting in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said huskily. “You couldn’t have paid me a higher compliment.”
Jeremy sat at his desk, staring down at the factory floor long after Marcus had left. So it had begun. And his decision had been made for him.
He would live as a white man so he could most effectively help the blacks fighting for their rights. The truth could come out at any time, but he would do everything within his power to make sure Rose, Moses, little John, Hope and the rest could grow up in a better world.
He had watched his father pay a huge price for pastoring a black church. Now it was his turn to do the right thing. As he pushed away from his desk and gathered his coat, he wondered what price he would be asked to pay.
Chapter Seven
“How old did you say you are?”
Carrie grinned at Robert and then stuck out her tongue. “You should know shaming me won’t keep me from acting like a child,” she said playfully as she bounced on the carriage seat. “It’s been months since we’ve been to Richmond. I love being on the plantation, but I was beginning to feel trapped by all the snow. I’m so glad it’s warmed up enough to escape!”
“Are you excited about going to Richmond, or about going to a dance with your dashing husband?” Robert teased.
Carrie grinned, but the surge of emotion that swamped her told her just how momentous an occasion this was. She and Robert had visited Richmond only once since the end of the war — the time she had prevailed upon Dr. Wild for supplies for the medical clinic and then made a trip to Oak Meadows to finalize the sale of Robert’s family plantation. Robert had still been regaining his strength and fighting regular nightmares of battle and death. Feelings of gratitude surged through her as she gazed into Robert’s sparkling eyes. “That does make the trip more exciting,” she murmured. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the most handsome man in Virginia.”
“We danced at your father and Abby’s wedding,” Robert protested.
“It doesn’t count,” Carrie retorted. “There wasn’t anyone there I could show you off to.”
“Do I hear pride?”
“Absolutely,” Carrie assured him. “I want every single woman there to wish they were me, and I want to see their jealous expressions.”
Robert threw his head back with a loud laugh. “Who would have guessed your ulterior motives, Mrs. Borden?”
“You would,” Carrie replied calmly. “It’s why you love me.”
Robert laughed again and then reached for her hand to give it a tight sque
eze. “The list of reasons I love you is far too long for the rest of this trip.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Carrie said, shivering at the strong love in her husband’s eyes. “I think we have time.”
“Not if that thing sticking up in the air is the spire of St. Paul’s Church,” Robert responded, tilting his head toward the horizon.
Carrie whipped her head around and bounced on the carriage seat again. “We’re here!” she squealed. She sat back and breathed in the cold air. The ground was still frozen — the only reason they could get through on the roads after the snowfalls in January — but there had been enough warm days the first week of February to melt everything before it froze again. Bright sunshine battled with the frigid air, sparkling on the banks of snow that remained. The stark outlines of oak, maple, and poplar created the winter woods she so loved.
“This will be the first time we’ll see the factory completed,” she said, still jouncing on the seat.
“I think you’re more of a city girl than you let on,” Robert observed. “You’re going to love Philadelphia.”
Carrie sobered instantly. In less than two months, she would be leaving for medical school.
Robert reached for her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s the truth,” Carrie murmured.
Robert let her hand go, took hold of her chin, and turned her head so he could meet her eyes. “You don’t have to go,” he reminded her. “You have a choice.”
“Do I?” Carrie asked. “Oh, I know I can say I won’t go, but what then? What will I do with my life? How will I feel if I walk away from the thing I believe I’m supposed to do? How can I live with myself?” She sighed when Robert just continued to gaze at her. “We both know I’m going, but does that mean I have to be excited about it?”
“I think it does,” Robert said gently. “Do you honestly believe you’re meant to do this?”
Carrie nodded. “Yes, but…”
“There is no but,” Robert continued. “I will miss you. You will miss me. You will miss the plantation and everyone you love, but being excited about moving forward in a new direction is not a bad thing.”
“I never said it was a bad thing!” Carrie protested.
“Haven’t you?” Robert asked, his voice still gentle. “Every time you talk about it, you say you dread going, dread leaving the plantation. Is that because you feel guilty about your excitement?”
Carrie stared at him. “Guilty?”
“Carrie, it’s perfectly all right to be excited about the opportunity to make your dream come true. I don’t think it means you don’t love me or don’t want to be with me. No one feels that way. You’re carrying a burden of guilt because you think you should feel that way.”
Carrie opened her mouth to refute his statement and then closed it slowly as the truth swept over her. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re right.” Her mind raced with the realization. “I’ve allowed my guilt over leaving you — in spite of your encouragement — to steal the joy of the opportunity.” She looked away from him and watched as the outskirts of Richmond appeared around the bend in the road. “I will miss you terribly,” she murmured.
“Of course you will,” Robert responded. “That doesn’t mean you have to feel guilty about leaving. You are being given an opportunity to do something so amazing. Why waste even one moment of the joy choosing to feel bad?”
Carrie whipped her head back to stare at him. “How did you become so wise?” she demanded.
Robert chuckled. “It’s amazing what you can learn when you lay in bed for months on end trying to give up on life.” His eyes grew serious. “I almost gave up everything I cared about because I felt guilty.”
“Guilty?” Carrie echoed. This was the first time he had broached this subject. She had spoken with so many veterans at the clinic who struggled with guilt, but Robert had never spoken about it.
“Yes,” Robert replied firmly. “I’ve just realized how much guilt I’ve carried. I couldn’t understand why I lived and so many died. I couldn’t understand why I had both arms and legs, while so many men lost one, or both. I allowed the memories and the guilt to swallow me for so long. Even when I started to get better, it continued to haunt me. I felt guilty for having a wife, for being on the plantation, for the opportunity to raise horses again.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I lived. I don’t know why I wasn’t maimed. I do know I’ve been given another chance to do what I love more than anything. I do know I have an amazing wife who needs to learn everything she can so she can help more people.” He paused. “Mostly, I’ve realized I can hang on to the guilt, or I can choose joy.”
Carrie smiled softly. “That sounds like Old Sarah.”
“Or Annie,” Robert murmured.
“Annie?”
Robert nodded. “She caught me out on the porch a few days ago. She told me I was wasting good time wallowing around in my guilt. She told me there wasn’t a thing to be guilty about, that God decides who gonna live and who is gonna die.” He imitated her perfectly. “She told me I should let go of useless guilt and choose to live every single day with joy.”
“Choose joy,” Carrie murmured. “She’s right.” She gripped Robert’s hand. “You’re right. I didn’t realize it, but I have been feeling guilty. No more,” she vowed. “I’ll miss you every day I’m gone, but I’m going to choose joy that I can truly become a doctor after dreaming about it for so long.” She straightened her shoulders, stared out over the horizon, and leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Carrie held her breath as they turned onto her father’s street. She smiled when she saw the three-story brick home come into view. It held so many memories for her, but she didn’t miss living there. Though the plantation would always be what she considered home, she was thrilled for the chance to visit. She jumped out of the carriage before it had even come to a complete stop. “Father! Abby!” She raced for the porch and, laughing, fell into her father’s arms. “I’ve missed you so much!”
Thomas laughed and held her back. “I missed you too, daughter, but it’s only been six weeks since we left the plantation. You clearly are ready for some city excitement.”
Carrie grinned up at him and then spun away to pull Abby into a hug. “You have no idea,” she murmured, exchanging a glance with her stepmother. “I’m going to leave you to talk man stuff with Robert after he puts the carriage away. Abby and I have more important things to discuss.”
“Dances are more important than politics?” Thomas teased.
“In more ways than we could possibly go into right now,” Abby assured him as she led Carrie into the house.
Carrie did a twirl when she entered the foyer, enjoying the sparkles dancing on the floor from the chandelier crystals catching the sun.
“Getting some practice in, Miss Carrie?”
Carrie laughed as May poked her head out of the kitchen. “I feel like I haven’t danced in ages, May. I can hardly wait!” She ran forward to give her father’s housekeeper a warm hug. “It’s so good to see you again.” Suddenly she lifted her nose and sniffed. “Is that…?”
“You think I would let you come without fixing you some of my molasses cookies?” May asked, her face wreathed with a smile when she stepped back.
Carrie eyed the door to the kitchen, suddenly realizing how famished she was after the long ride. Right on the heels of realizing how hungry she was came the cold stiffness from hours in the wagon.
May waved her hand. “Go on in there, Miss Carrie. Just leave Robert some,” she scolded.
“Maybe one or two,” Carrie said merrily.
“Miles is taking you up a hot bath,” May informed her. “I thought you would be ready for it after that long, cold ride.”
“Bless you!” Carrie said fervently. Then she turned to Abby. “Were you…?”
“Able to get you a new dress?” Abby cocked her eyebrow. “Did you doubt me for even a minute?”
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“No,” Carrie said quickly, “it’s just been so long since I had a new dress.” She shook her head. “It probably sounds silly.”
“Not at all,” Abby assured her. “You wouldn’t spend the money during the war, and then there was nothing to be had. You haven’t needed one on the plantation, but a dance is the perfect occasion for a new dress. Thalhimers had a new shipment come in last week.”
Carrie sighed. “Thank you for understanding,” she murmured. She looked around expectantly. “Do I get to see it?” she finally asked after a long silence.
“You want to see it?” Abby teased.
Just then Miles walked down the sweeping staircase that led to the next floor. “You got a hot bath all ready, Miss Carrie. I be doing Robert’s next.”
“Thank you, Miles,” Carrie exclaimed as she gave him a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Miss Carrie,” he said quietly, only his dark eyes expressing his pleasure. He exchanged a look with Abby. “I put what you wanted me to on the hook on Miss Carrie’s door,” he added.
“My dress!” Carrie gasped, laughing as she ran up the stairs. “The next time you see me I will not be a rumpled, frozen piece of humanity.”
Carrie sighed with delight as she settled back into the deep clawfoot tub in her room. She closed her eyes and allowed the warm water to envelop her, enjoying the sound of the wind whistling through the magnolia tree stationed outside the window. Now that she was warm, she didn’t care how cold it was outside. It simply made her feel cozy and safe.
She allowed her thoughts to travel back to her and Robert’s conversation. How right he had been. Releasing the guilt had lifted such a heavy burden from her heart. In two months she would be a medical student, but she would still be the wife of the most wonderful man she knew. Happiness soared through her heart as she let the bath completely rejuvenate her. She smiled when she heard a groan come from the next room. “It feels wonderful, doesn’t it?” she called.
