by Ginny Dye
Gabe cradled his rifle in his hands, ready for what may come. Suddenly, a lull in the wind allowed the conversation to be heard.
“You really think they’re going to let us waltz in there?” one man asked.
“Oh, you know how them niggers are,” another retorted. “They’re so busy dancing, they won’t hear us coming until it’s too late.”
“I ain’t so sure,” the first man responded. “Ever since that Robert Borden got killed, I suspect they are being real careful.”
“What’s the problem?” another man snapped. “If you are too scared to do what we came to do, why are you here in the first place?”
Gabe could sense King’s body clenched in fury, although he remained still as a statue. Moses had been clear that no shots should be fired unless the vigilantes actually came on Cromwell Plantation. Gabe could only hope all the men waiting in the woods had as much self-control as King did.
“The Ku Klux Klan has made it clear what has to be done if we are going to take back control of the South,” the leader continued. “It’s not going to be easy, but what choice do we have? The Cromwells and Bordens are under the impression they can do whatever they want…flaunting all the niggers they let act like white people. It stops right here.”
His words had the desired effect as the men quit arguing and fell into position. There were ten men in the front line, with another ten following closely behind.
“Let’s do this!” a man called.
Gabe remained still until all twenty had ridden onto Cromwell land, and then he raised his rifle. He smiled in grim satisfaction when the explosion of thirty rifles responded to the invasion almost simultaneously. He had hated the senseless deaths during the war, but now that it was the people he loved being attacked, he found himself responding in a far different way.
Not one of the guards said a word. They simply let their rifles do the talking. The vigilantes attacking the plantation would never know who had fired on them. They would be certain, however, that their attack had failed.
Gabe pulled his trigger again, holding back a crow of delight as his bullet tore through someone’s arm. The rifle the vigilante held dropped to the ground as the man screamed and grabbed his arm.
Half of the attackers had already slumped onto their saddles, holding on for all they were worth as they looked for a path of hasty retreat. Some were on the ground, wounded or dead. The remaining quickly decided their plan had gone horribly awry.
“Retreat!” one of them yelled. “Retreat!”
They turned and galloped off. Final shots resulted in two more of them being wounded, but they managed to stay on their horses long enough to disappear with the rest, somehow dodging the barrage of bullets surrounding them as they melted into the darkness.
Gabe wondered what would happen to the five men lying wounded on the ground, but Moses’ orders had been clear. No one was to be seen or identified. Gabe understood the wisdom of not making anyone more of a target than they already were, but he couldn’t stop the twinge of pity he felt for the wounded men who would fight to survive the long night ahead. He doubted the rest of the vigilantes had enough courage to return for them.
“Let’s go,” King said. “We’re done here. They won’t be back tonight.”
*****
From the plantation gate, Moses could hear the gunshots in the distance, but he had no idea what was happening. As much as he wanted to ride toward the action, he had to stay in position. There was no guarantee more attacks wouldn’t come from an additional direction. He had no idea how well prepared the vigilantes were, but he trusted the men guarding the gate could handle whatever came at them. They had experience, and they also had the element of surprise on their side.
As silence descended once more, Moses felt, more than saw, his men arrive. It was Gabe who materialized from the darkness to ride up beside him. “What happened out there?”
Gabe told him the story.
“Do you think they will return?”
“King says no.”
Moses nodded. “That’s good enough for me.” Still, he didn’t relax. And he knew he could not make assumptions that another attack might not come. The longer he waited to get people home, the more dangerous it would be. “Simon, are you out there?” he called softly.
“Right here,” Simon answered. “The men did well tonight.”
“I never doubted they would,” Moses responded. “It’s too cold to have people who live close by to stay here tonight. We can’t put everyone in the house, so we must get them home. I want a guard of men with every wagon. Load them up with as many people as you can. The rest of the wagons can be returned during daylight hours. I just want everyone to get home safely, and we can’t assume they won’t return. The Harvest Festival is over.”
“I’ll take care of,” Simon said.
“I’ll have the women and children out in a minute, Moses.”
Moses was not surprised when Rose’s voice split the night. He smiled at her as she walked toward him from the woods. “You heard everything?”
“I did,” she assured him. “Have your men pull the wagons up next to the trail I took everyone in on. I suspect they’re sore and stiff, but they are all right.”
Moses turned again to Simon. “Your men’s families can stay here tonight. It is too far to return to Blackwell Plantation with vigilantes on the loose. It will be tight, but we’ll put everyone in the old cabins. It’s not much, but at least there are blankets.”
Simon breathed a sigh of relief. “They will be safe. That’s all that’s important. We’ll get them home in the morning when the sun is up.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Moses promised. “You and your men will accompany the wagons that take everyone else home. That includes all the white families. Their men are still at the schoolhouse. I’ll send Jeb through the woods to tell them what we are doing. You’ll be driving right past the school, so they can take over for you there. Then you can join the others who will be guarding the rest of the wagons. A strong show of force will make the vigilantes think twice—especially after what happened earlier.”
Carrie appeared out of the darkness, her concerned face illuminated by the flames of the bonfire that had only now begun to die down. “We heard the gunshots. What happened?” She raised her hand. “And don’t look at me like I’m foolish for being out here. Abby and I saw your men returning down the road. They wouldn’t be coming back if there was still danger. We want to know what is going on.”
Moses gave her a tired smile. “Of course.” He explained briefly, aware he was still needed to help get the wagons loaded.
“Five men were shot?” Carrie asked.
“More were shot, but only five came off their horses,” Moses answered.
“What happened to them?”
Moses shrugged. “My men had orders not to reveal themselves. It would be too dangerous if they could be recognized. They left the injured where they were lying.” He decided not to mention how little he cared.
Thomas, alerted that the danger had passed, rode up in time to hear Moses’ answer. “It was the only thing you could do,” he said grimly.
Carrie nodded and turned away.
Moses stared after her, recognizing the set of her shoulders. “Carrie, what are you going to do?”
Carrie whirled around. “I’m going to help those men, of course. We can’t let them stay out there all night to suffer and possibly die.”
“They would have done that to us,” Moses growled.
“Probably,” Carrie agreed. “But I would prefer to think we are better than they are,” she snapped. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I understand how you feel, Moses, but I am a doctor. I have to do what I can to help.”
Moses nodded with resignation. “I’ll send some men with you.”
“I would appreciate that,” Carrie replied before she strode away.
Chapter Four
“They’re letting us go?” Janie was waiting behind the door whe
n Carrie walked in and told them about the wounded men.
“Letting us go? I don’t believe I asked permission,” Carrie said. “I also don’t believe I mentioned you, Abby and Polly would be joining me.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Abby murmured with amusement.
Thomas came in through the kitchen door. “Not that the mention was needed. I knew you wouldn’t stay behind. I didn’t suspect Janie and Polly would either. But,” he added, “Moses has picked five of his men to accompany the wagons.”
“I would certainly hope so,” Carrie retorted. “We’re determined to help, but we still have brains in our heads.”
“I’m relieved to hear that, daughter dear,” Thomas replied blandly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Do you need to go to the clinic first?”
“No. I have always made sure there is a supply of everything at the clinic here in the house. You never know when it might be needed. Polly is pulling it all together now. Still, I may have to take someone to the clinic.” She turned to Annie. “Will you please gather blankets for the wagon?”
Annie scowled her displeasure and planted her hands on her ample hips. “There be plenty of people need them blankets right here, Miss Carrie. I don’t see no reason to get them all messed up by some men who came here to try and hurt us.”
“I know,” Carrie said calmly, “but I still would like you to gather the blankets.”
“Me and Felicia will help get them,” Amber said. Then she paused, an expression of sadness filling her face. “I know what you’re doing, Carrie.”
Carrie knelt to look in her face. “What am I doing, Amber?”
“You’re showing us that we’re better than those men who killed Robert when they tried to shoot me,” she whispered as her eyes swarmed with tears. “I was real angry for a long time. I bet you were, too, but now we have to prove we aren’t like them.”
Carrie grabbed her in a fierce hug. “You’re exactly right, honey. Help Annie all you can while we’re gone. I promise to come find you and let you know how it went.”
*****
Carrie was not surprised to find her father, Matthew, Jeremy, Mark, Perry and Anthony mounted beside the carriages when they walked out with their box of supplies and a mountain of blankets. Five of Moses’ field hands waited with them. Off to the side she saw a line of wagons filled with women and children, flanked by a steady line of armed guards surrounding them. She didn’t detect fear, just a weary resignation.
Carrie put down her box and dashed forward to the first wagon. “I’m so very sorry the Harvest Festival was ruined for you,” she said to the people she knew so well, wishing she had not been so childish in her worry over picking the king for the ball. The tired looks and the sadness on the children’s faces tore at her heart. A wonderful, fun-filled day had ended by hiding in the dark woods from vigilantes who wanted to kill them. She shoved down the urge to go back into the house and let the injured men suffer the consequences they deserved.
“Moses keeps telling us this gonna be a long battle to be treated equal in this country,” one woman responded. “I figure I’ll be thankful those vigilantes didn’t show up while we were dancing and couldn’t hear them coming. It may take a long time for things to change, but they are still better than they used to be.” She glanced at her children. “Me and my children all read now. We all go to school. Thanks to your daddy, we have our own land to call home, and my Alfred brings home money of his own. Yep, I reckon we have a lot to thank the good Lord for.”
Carrie smiled as a murmur of agreement rose from the other women on the wagon. She reached forward and squeezed Rebecca’s hand. “None of us will quit fighting until things are better.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes as she looked at the wagon being loaded with supplies. “Where you headed, Miss Carrie?”
Carrie opted for honesty. “A number of the vigilantes were shot during the attack. We’re going to help.” She wasn’t surprised when she was met with shocked silence. “What they did was terribly wrong, but—”
“But one of them men could have been with the group that killed your husband!” Rebecca hissed.
“I know,” Carrie admitted, once again fighting the internal battle she had fought all night. At first she had been happy knowing the vigilantes might die, but ultimately she decided she couldn’t fight hate with more hate of her own. She remembered Amber’s words. “We’re showing them we are better than they are,” she said.
Rebecca stared at her and shook her head. “You’re for sure a better woman than I am, Miss Carrie. You just be careful out there. Your daddy and the rest of those men going to take you and the others down there?”
“They are. We’ll be fine.”
*****
Carrie grew tenser as the wagons rolled closer to the gate. She had no idea what to expect. She also hated the doubts assailing her. What right did she have to put the others at risk to help men who had come here to shoot the people she loved? Did it really matter if they died on the ground during the night?
Abby took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’re doing the right thing.”
Janie reached over to take Carrie’s other hand. “She’s right, Carrie. I don’t know how you can do it after Robert’s murder, but we’re doing the right thing.”
“They right, Miss Carrie,” Polly said firmly. “One part of me wants to ride right up and shoot all of them for almost killing my little girl, but that’s not the right thing.”
Carrie took a deep breath. “Do you really believe that, Polly?”
“I wish I could choose not to believe it,” Polly answered. “Amber has come a long way, but there still be a lot of nights when she cries herself to sleep because she misses Robert so much. I heard what she told you tonight—that we gots to show we are better than them. There be plenty of times I don’t want to be better, but for tonight I think this be the right thing to do.” She paused. “If I’d been with the men guarding the gate, I wouldn’t have had no trouble shooting those men, but now that they be helpless, I figure we have to do the right thing.”
“I’m sorry if I’m putting any of you into danger,” Carrie replied. Polly’s words helped her feel better about her decision, but it didn’t assuage her worry.
Mark moved his mare closer to the wagon. “Don’t worry about that, Carrie. We won’t let anything happen.”
Carrie couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. “What if there are men waiting in the woods, just like our men were waiting? What if they came back to get their friends, and they decide to take it out on us?” She hated the fact she was coming up with dreadful scenarios, but she couldn’t stop herself. What had seemed like a good idea back at the house suddenly seemed like a ludicrous idea that would have disastrous consequences.
“Stop it,” Janie said.
“Excuse me?”
“I know what you are doing,” Janie said. “You have to stop it. I know where your mind is going. Don’t let it,” she commanded. “There is not a single person with you right now who did not make a choice to join you. Any of us could have said no. We chose to do this because we want to be better than these men, too. What happens, happens. We will deal with whatever it is.” Her voice softened. “This is harder for you, Carrie, because Robert was murdered by men like these. That has to be eating at you. Take some deep breaths and focus on what we need to do.”
Carrie decided to follow Janie’s advice. She took long, deep breaths, allowing the air to fill her lungs and cool her face. Slowly, the panic subsided. She kept breathing until calm replaced the fear that had pulsated through her. “All right,” she finally said. “I’m better.”
“Good,” Abby murmured. “We’re almost at the gate.”
Carrie leaned forward to look for shapes on the ground. “I don’t see anyone,” she muttered.
Matthew edged closer to the wagon. “They must still be alive at least. They would have pulled themselves off the road when they heard the other wagons coming. I imagine they are hiding in the woods.�
��
“With guns?” Carrie asked, all her fears returning.
“No,” Mark said. “Gabe and the others collected the rifles that had fallen.”
Carrie shook her head. “That’s not possible. Moses told them they weren’t to be seen.”
“That’s true,” Mark chuckled. “But Klansmen are not the only people who know how to hide their identity. Evidently, some of the men’s wives made them red hoods to carry when they were guarding. Three of them put them on and gathered all the guns before they disappeared again.”
Carrie was disgusted with herself. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I’m the reason we’re all out here. Y’all shouldn’t be having to make me feel better.”
“Here’s one of them!” Matthew called out. “He’s unconscious.”
Carrie jumped from the wagon, glad to have activity replace her fears. “We’re coming.”
“And here is another one,” Thomas yelled. “He’s not conscious either.”
Carrie heard the hiss of matches as the men ignited their fire sticks. The intense darkness became illuminated with golden circles. She pushed aside the uncomfortable realization that the light from the sticks made them a much easier target. There was work to be done.
“I have another one,” Mark called. “He’s awake, but he’s hurt badly and appears to be in shock.”
“I found another,” Anthony announced in a grim voice. “He won’t need any help.”
Carrie winced. Four years of war had taught her about death. “There should be one more.”
“He won’t need help, either,” Jeremy declared.
“All right,” Carrie answered, as the women reached for their medical bags. “Janie, you take the first man. Polly, take the one my father found. I’ll take the one who is still awake.”
Carrie walked toward the light provided by Mark’s fire stick. One look told her the man was indeed going into shock, but he was aware enough to be absolutely terrified. She knelt beside the man who looked to be in his late twenties. He was thin, and his shaggy black hair was matted to his head by blood. “We’re not here to hurt you,” she said. “We’re here to help.”
