Walking Into The Unknown (# 10 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series)

by Ginny Dye

  “No,” Felicia admitted. “She told me it was only for Navajo women.”

  Rose bit back her sigh of relief. “Yet you want to do one?”

  Felicia lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I want to do something. The Kinaalda is the only rite of passage I know about.” She walked over to stare out the window, and then swung back around. “I don’t know why I think it is so important, but I do. Life is getting ready to change a whole lot again when we leave here. Since I am going to be a woman, I want to do something that will make me ready for it.”

  Rose nodded. “I understand. How about we come up with a rite of passage just for you?” She smiled at her daughter. “I was sad when I didn’t get to have my own rite of passage. My mama told me it was all right, but I know she was sad, too. She did, however, make a very special dinner for me when I started my menstrual cycle. She said it was important to celebrate moving from one stage of life to another. It meant a lot to me.”

  “Why?” Felicia pressed.

  Rose considered the question. “I suppose because it made me feel like my life was meant to be more than simply moving from day to day as a slave. I was a woman. I was thirteen, but I started thinking about how I could do things with my life after that. I felt like I was part of something bigger than myself.”

  Felica nodded. “I feel the same way! It would mean a lot to me, Mama, if we could do something.” She paused. “There is something else…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

  “You can ask or tell me anything,” Rose said quietly.

  “I know we’re going to Oberlin soon, but I want to do whatever we are going to do before then because there are women here I want to be a part of it.”

  “Who?”

  “Carrie, of course, but I also want Abby, and Grandma Annie, and Polly. I want Janie and Marietta to be here, and I also want Chooli here. And Susan.” Felicia hesitated. “I love Daddy and Thomas, but I don’t want them to be there. It should only be women.”

  “I agree,” Rose replied, delighted when she saw Felicia’s eyes ignite with joy. She thought for several moments and then reached out to touch the girl’s cheek. “Will you trust me to create the rite of passage for you?”

  “Yes,” Felicia said immediately, “but when will it be?”

  “I propose New Year’s Day. We will be leaving several days later, but all of us should still be here.”

  “New Year’s Day,” Felicia repeated. Then she grinned. “That is perfect!”

  *****

  Moses shrugged off his thick coat, sank down in the wingback chair pulled next to the roaring fire, and reached gratefully for the steaming mug of coffee Rose held out to him. “Thank you,” he murmured, content to merely hold the cup and let it warm his huge hands.

  “I knew you would be freezing,” Rose replied. “Jeb had enough blankets in the carriage to keep me warm on the ride home, but the woodstove could barely heat the school today. Every student had to keep their coat on.”

  “I knew this winter was going to be brutal,” Moses said as he took his first sip and closed his eyes in ecstasy. “As long as I can come home at night, I’ll make it through.”

  “Everyone has enough firewood?”

  Moses nodded, but kept his eyes closed as he took another drink. “They do. All the signs were there, so we made sure there was enough stockpiled. Everyone will be warm, and everyone has enough food.”

  “Which, in today’s America, is more than a lot of people can say,” Rose said sadly.

  Moses opened his eyes, obviously hearing the pain in her voice. “The white families?”

  Rose sighed heavily. “Many are struggling. I can tell some of my students are only warm when they are in school. There is so much talk about what the freed slaves are going through, but as far as I can tell, most of the whites are hurting just as badly. The world we live in here on the plantation is not the world most people live in. I talk to the wives. Their husbands feel they have been completely forgotten now that the war is over. They don’t have jobs, many of them are disabled…”

  “It’s going to mean even more trouble,” Moses said grimly.

  Rose nodded. “There is so much anger and hopelessness. It has to have an outlet.” She stared into the fire for a long moment and then swung around to stare at her husband. “Are we making a mistake? Are all these people going to be all right if we leave? Can Franklin really run the plantation the way you would? Do I have a right to leave the school? They tell me they are sending a new teacher down, but what if my students don’t trust her? What if they refuse to come to school?”

  “That’s a lot of questions.” Moses needed to give himself time to think through Rose’s outburst. He couldn’t deny her questions had given him a spark of hope that they might stay on Cromwell, but his heart told him it wasn’t the solution.

  “I know you don’t want to go!” Rose cried. She stood abruptly and began to pace. “What if our people need us here more than they need us to go to school?”

  “Sounds to me like you are borrowing trouble, Rose.”

  Rose whirled around to glare at him. “Don’t quote my mama to me, Moses Samuels. I’m not borrowing trouble. I’m acknowledging the reality of the situation. It doesn’t make any sense to go where we can’t do anything about what is going on here. So many people count on us.” Her voice was frantic.

  Moses took a deep breath. It had been noble of him to make it about wanting Rose to be happy, but it was only because he had refused to truly understand the bigger picture. “That is exactly why we must go,” Moses said firmly. He nodded his head toward the chair. “Sit back down, please.”

  Rose sat, but the wild look in her eyes did not abate.

  Moses considered his words carefully. “Things are happening in America faster than most people can keep up with.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he’d stood on the porch to read. He’d wanted to read it, and have time to ponder it, before he came in the house. Rose eyed the letter, but waited for him to speak. “It is certain Congress will try to impeach President Johnson this spring. He has lost all political sway in the country, and he has burned too many bridges with people.”

  Rose shrugged, obviously not impressed that this could have anything to do with their situation.

  Moses continued to pick his words. “The amendment to the Kansas constitution that Abby and Carrie fought so hard to get passed, failed. Women all over the country are disheartened.”

  “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you are failing.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel better,” Moses replied as he picked up the letter. “The results of the constitutional conventions are coming in. Virginia’s just began on December third, but there are enough results from other states to give us a clear indication of what is happening.” He watched Rose carefully, aware of the moment he finally had her complete attention. “All the constitutions are guaranteeing our civil and political rights.”

  “Go ahead and tell me the ‘but,’” Rose muttered. “I know one is coming.”

  “There is,” Moses agreed. “The conventions are clear about a commitment to equal rights and a new South, but that seems to be about all they can agree on. They are united on general principles, but not on how to implement them.” He held up the letter. “Thomas just sent this.”

  “Is Carrie coming home soon?” Rose demanded.

  Moses knew how much his wife missed her best friend. “According to this letter, she should be home tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Rose said shortly. She took a deep breath. “Please continue.”

  Moses took it as a good sign, but he didn’t believe what he was going to tell her would make her feel better. He regretted that he didn’t have better news, but she had to know so she could understand why they must go to school. “It seems the constitutions agreed on public education for everyone, but they can’t agree on whether the schools should be racially segregated. They agree on civil and political rights for blacks, but they can
’t agree on social equality.” Rose scowled but remained silent. “They want democracy to expand, but they don’t want to allow black domination of local or state governments.”

  “I’m sure,” Rose retorted.

  “There are other more minor positions, but the overall outcome seems to be that they can’t agree whether they should try to forge a political majority by striving to serve the interests of blacks and poor whites, or whether their prime concern should be attracting respectable whites and outside capital to rebuild the South.”

  “And they can’t manage to do both?” Rose snapped. “It sounds to me like more selfish men concerned with only their personal agendas.”

  Moses could not have agreed with her more. “Which is exactly why we have to go to school.” He could tell by the look on her face that he had not said enough to persuade her. “North Carolina is a good example.”

  Rose raised a brow. “North Carolina?”

  “It seems there aren’t many people—either black or white—who believe integrated education can work, but the black delegates are quite adamant that no constitution should require racial segregation. There is a man down in North Carolina by the name of James Hood.”

  “I know of him,” Rose replied. “He’s from Delaware so he was never a slave, and he has been a pastor in North Carolina for four years. He has formed several churches, but he has also worked hard to make sure blacks receive an education.”

  “That’s him,” Moses confirmed. “He says he favors separate education because all white teachers have been taught to view black children as naturally inferior,” he said disdainfully. “He wouldn’t let them write segregated education into the constitution, though. He said that if it became law, the white children would all have good schools, but the black children would have none. He believes the threat of integration will force states to provide blacks with good schools of their own.”

  Rose nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “Which is why you have to go to school,” Moses said persistently. “If black students are to have good schools, they have to have good teachers who believe they are not naturally inferior. Public education is going to be free, and at some point all the states will make it mandatory. If there aren’t enough black educators, they will put white teachers in our schools who believe black children can’t learn.”

  Rose was listening intently now. “And what about you?”

  “You’re right that I haven’t wanted to leave,” Moses admitted. He picked up the letter again. This time he read out loud.

  There may never be a time in history when it is more important for you and Rose to be a voice for your people. Blacks have gained the right to vote, but it will take educated men and women who know how to speak and write to turn the tide. Your people are intelligent—now they must be given true opportunity to become educated. It is going to take great courage to choose a route that ensures enmity among the majority, but society changes only when there are those who will step up to do so.

  Moses put the letter back down. “If my decision was just about me, I would choose to stay here on the plantation, but it’s not. One minute I am sure I want to go. The next minute I just want to live my life and plant tobacco. I don’t particularly want to live in a time where I must be courageous and go against people that will hate me,” he said, “but I don’t know that anyone who has stood up to change things for our people wanted that. They simply made a choice to do what they believed was the right thing.” He turned away from the fire and gazed at Rose. “I believe Franklin is ready to run the plantation, but the people here are being called to fight their own battles. They know how to protect themselves and this land. If the students in your school truly want to learn, they will learn no matter how bad their teacher is. You’ve taught the parents, too, so they will be able to help their children.”

  “And when we are done in four years?” Rose asked, her eyes locked on his.

  Moses managed to laugh lightly. “Wife, I can barely manage to imagine life in one month. I have no idea what four years will bring.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “The only thing I am certain of is that we will face the future together. For now, that is enough for me.”

  “I learned something about Oberlin College today,” Rose said by way of an answer. “The first black woman to receive a bachelor’s degree in America graduated from Oberlin. Her name is Mary Jane Patterson. Right now she is teaching in Philadelphia at the Institute for Colored Youths.”

  Moses listened, knowing there was more his wife wanted to say.

  “I met her,” Rose said softly. “My teacher had her come to the Quaker School when I was there, before I went to the contraband camp to teach. I remember thinking I wanted to be just like her. She never said where she went to school, but I knew it must be a special place.”

  “And now we will be there,” Moses replied. “Like it or not, we are alive in a time when we have the unique privilege of being a voice for our people.”

  Rose grasped his hand. “Oberlin College, here we come.”

  *****

  “Would you like to repeat that?” Rose shook her head in stunned disbelief.

  Carrie smiled patiently. “I am not going back to school in Philadelphia. I am taking a team of medical students to Bosque Redondo. When I return home, if I’ve done well, I will receive my medical degree.”

  “When?”

  Carrie was confused. “When will I receive my medical degree?”

  “When are you leaving?” Rose shook her head again. “I’m having a hard time comprehending this, Carrie. You’re going to New Mexico? On the Santa Fe Trail?”

  “Evidently,” Carrie replied with a laugh. “I’m still trying to comprehend it myself.”

  Rose eyed her for a long moment, and then raised her voice. “Chooli, will you come in here, please?”

  Carrie was delighted. “Chooli is here? I thought she would be down at her cabin.”

  “She came up for her cooking class with Annie.”

  Carrie blinked. “Her cooking class?”

  Rose laughed. “Chooli and Annie have become good friends. Annie is teaching her how to make good southern food so Franklin will be happy.” She scowled. “You changed the subject. When are you leaving?”

  Carrie hesitated. She was certain Rose would not be any more impressed than her father and Abby had been with her decision.

  Chooli breezed into the room. “Carrie! You’re home. It’s good to see you.”

  Carrie had only been gone a week, but the young Navajo woman seemed to be blooming. Every day the light seemed to gleam more brightly in her eyes. The private tutoring she was receiving from Rose and Felicia had given her a grasp of English far faster than Carrie could have imagined. “It’s good to see you, too, Chooli.” She could hardly wait to tell her the news.

  “Answer the question, Carrie,” Rose pressed, a tinge of frustration in her words.

  “February first,” Carrie said reluctantly.

  “What is February first?” Chooli asked, obviously feeling the tension between the two friends as she looked back and forth between them.

  Carrie saw Rose open her mouth but wasn’t going to allow her to share the news. “I’m going to Bosque Redondo, Chooli!”

  Chooli stared at her and then sank down into the chair behind her. “Bosque Redondo? Why?”

  Carrie explained what had transpired in Richmond. “I’m going to Philadelphia the first week of January to select students who will join me. I’m writing a letter to many of them this week so that we will be ready to leave by February first. We will take the train out to Independence, Missouri, and then go on from there.”

  Chooli was still staring at her with an open mouth. “You would do such a big thing for my people?” She shook her head with disbelief, but a smile was beginning to tug at her mouth. “You will take letters to my family?”

  “Of course,” Carrie said. “I’m counting on you to write letters that will encourage your people to trust me so that I can help the
m most effectively.”

  “You’re taking medicines to make their sickness go away?”

  “I am,” Carrie assured her. “We are taking a large number of homeopathic remedies, but you and Polly and I will be working hard until then to also make as many herbal remedies as we can. I’m eager to find the plants in the Southwest that have healing properties, too.” She explained about the book that was to be one of the results of the trip.

  Rose looked only slightly mollified by Chooli’s grateful response. “But February?” She turned to Chooli. “What is the Santa Fe Trail like in February?” she demanded.

  Chooli looked uneasy, obviously torn between telling the truth and not wanting to discourage Carrie from going to help her people. “You will be with others?”

  “Yes,” Carrie assured her, glad to be able to share this part of the plan with Rose. “Actually, we will be with a contingent of soldiers who are going to the reservation.”

  “Soldiers?” Rose asked. “How did you manage that?”

  “I have Anthony Wallington and Mark Jones to thank. Anthony came in during dinner the night I was trying to convince Father and Abby that my idea was doable.”

  “I can imagine how thrilled your father was,” Rose said wryly.

  Carrie made a face. “I will always be his little girl,” she admitted. “Anyway, Anthony listened all the way through, and then told me Mark had met him for dinner the night before in Philadelphia. Both were there on business. They were talking about Chooli, and Mark had mentioned some friends who had just been deployed to the reservation. Anthony telegraphed Mark, and the confirmation came through yesterday afternoon that we could ride out with the soldiers. Evidently, Captain Jones still carries a lot of influence. And my father is going to buy two wagons for the team, and for all the supplies.” She grinned at Rose. “Does that make you feel better?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Rose retorted, though her mouth was no longer a straight line of displeasure. She turned on Chooli. “What is that trail like in February? And I want the truth,” she added.