by Ginny Dye
“…Because I will go downhill and lose what I worked so hard for.”
Silence reigned in the room for several minutes as Felicia absorbed what she had heard. “What keeps you fighting, Miss Abby? When you’re real tired and want to stop, what keeps you going?”
Abby smiled. “You do, Felicia. You, and all the other girls in America who deserve a better life. You can only fight for so long if you’re fighting for yourself, but if you’re fighting for something much bigger, you find the energy to keep going.” She held Felicia’s gaze. “You fight because it matters.”
“Because it matters,” Felicia murmured.
Abby leaned forward and took her hands. “It’s going to matter so much for you, Felicia. You are fighting for you, but you are also fighting for the first generation of black girls and women who have ever been free, and then for the next generation who will follow. You’ll fight for your children, and you’ll fight for your grandchildren. You’ll fight for other’s children and grandchildren.”
Abby watched the play of emotions on Felicia’s face and felt sorrow for what she was certain the little girl would have to endure. “I’m sorry it has to be so hard, my dear. I wish it were different for you. I believe you are a very special girl—soon to be a woman—who is going to do powerful things for your people, but I also know what a huge responsibility you are going to carry.”
Felicia continued to stare into the fire. “I made myself a promise when I came here,” she said quietly.
“A promise?”
Felicia nodded. “When my mama and daddy were murdered, I promised them I would do everything I could to make sure things like that didn’t continue to happen. Then I came here and discovered the library. I realized I had all the knowledge to become who I needed to be. That’s why I’m always in here. There is so much to learn, and I believe the more I know, the more I will be able to help my people.” She paused for a long moment. “I know Rose and Moses worry about me because I spend so much time in here, even though they say it’s all right. They think I should act like a child more.” Her face grew very serious. “I quit being a child the moment I saw my parents murdered. I may be young, but I’m not a child.”
“I know,” Abby replied. “I know, Felicia.”
Felicia searched her face. “Do you? Do you really?”
“I do, and even though Moses and Rose want you to have more of a childhood, they never had one either. Slavery robbed them of that opportunity. All parents want their children to have better than what they had, but that doesn’t mean they don’t understand.”
“We’re going to Oberlin,” Felicia said. “Rose said I’m going to like it there.”
“You’re going to love it there,” Abby replied.
“Will I? I’m a little scared to be in a town,” she admitted.
“Oberlin, Ohio is nothing like Memphis,” Abby told her. “You are going to be safe there, but more importantly, you are going to learn even more, and you’re going to make friends with other black women who want to know as much as you do.”
Felicia smiled. “I never thought about it that way, but I suppose that is true.” Her worried look disappeared. “Thank you.” She gazed deeply into Abby’s eyes. “I promise to never take anything for granted.”
Abby smiled. “If you start to forget, I’ll be sure to remind you.”
*****
Thomas had just stepped out on the porch when Carrie appeared at the barn door. He waved and waited for her to join him. “You look happy,” he said fondly.
Carrie thought about his comment and was surprised to find he was correct. “I actually feel happy right now.” The realization instantly made her uncomfortable.
Thomas read her thoughts. “It’s natural, honey. I thought I would never be happy again after your mother died, but almost despite myself, I found moments and days when I was not miserable. I struggled with the guilt over that when I realized it.”
Carrie held his gaze for a moment before she looked away. “I still feel guilty,” she admitted.
“Would you want Robert to feel guilty if you were the one who died?” Thomas asked.
“Why do people always ask that?” Carrie asked, irritated. “How in the world could I know what I would want if I were the one who had been brutally murdered? I wasn’t! I can imagine what I might want to feel like, but that is the best I can do.”
“All right,” Thomas responded calmly. “How would you want to feel?”
Carrie laughed, the irritation dissolving as quickly as it had come. “You always did know how to handle me.”
“I stopped trying to handle you a long time ago, my dear. It’s actually a very good question. I’ve also wondered before why people say it. I think the truth is that all the questions we ask, and all the things we say, are nothing more than our attempt to make sense out of a world that doesn’t usually make sense.”
Carrie slipped her arm through her father’s. “As long as I still have you, I will keep finding a way to make sense of it.”
Thomas kissed the top of her head. They stood silently and watched the horses cavorting in the field. The snow had stopped, but the frigid temperatures kept it from melting. Miles was predicting more that night.
Carrie thought about the happiness swirling in her mind. “Robert would be so proud of what he created.”
“He would be, and he would have every right to be. He took the opportunity Abby offered him, and he went so far in such a short period of time.”
Clint strode from the barn, leading Eclipse. The towering Thoroughbred held his head proudly, snorting as he watched the progeny he had spawned.
“Clint has done a magnificent job,” Carrie murmured.
“Because of Robert,” Thomas replied. “Not many Southern white men would have given such a responsible job to a young black man. Robert recognized talent and passion, and he saw beyond the color, just like he did with Amber. Only with her, he also had to see beyond her age.” He smiled as Amber’s filly, All My Heart, broke free from the group to race along the fence next to where Eclipse stood.
Carrie laughed. “All My Heart is showing off for her daddy.” She turned her attention back to her father. “Amber is one of the finest natural trainers I’ve ever seen.” She frowned suddenly.
“Why the frown?”
Carrie shook her head and stayed quiet for a moment. “I wonder what the future holds for her,” she admitted. “The KKK tried to kill her once already. What will happen to her as she grows older and has to work within a horse world dominated by white men? It’s hard enough for Clint, but it will be harder for her as a black woman.”
“What would Sarah tell you?”
Carrie turned to stare at him. “What?”
“I obviously never knew Sarah the way you did, but I’ve heard enough of her wisdom from you and Rose to know she would have had sound advice for you. What would it have been?”
Carrie looked over the fields, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “She would have told me I be borrowin’ trouble ‘fore it be dere.” She smiled softly as she envisioned the tiny black woman who had taught her the most important lessons about life. “She would have told me dat dere ain’t been no black folk eber born dat don’t have a passel of trouble. But dat black folk be strong ‘nuff to fight battles white folks ain’t got no idea how to fight ‘cause dey been fightin’ dere whole life.” Saying the words made her feel better.
“Amber knows,” Thomas said.
“Knows?”
“She already knows she is going to have to fight battles.”
Carrie swung her eyes back to him. “Did she tell you?”
Thomas nodded, his eyes full of love when he saw Amber exit the barn leading one of the colts she was training. “That little girl is something,” he murmured. “She told me that she knew working with horses was going to be a challenge when she grew up, but that she was going to do whatever it took to make Robert proud of her. She is determined to make Cromwell Stables the best stables in the country. I
told her I would be satisfied if it was just the best stables in Virginia, but she said that wasn’t good enough because Robert had wanted more.”
Carrie swallowed the tears that threatened to come. She watched as the colt Amber was leading pulled back on the rope and threatened to rear. She couldn’t hear what the little girl whispered, but the colt relaxed as soon as Amber put her hand on his neck. He dipped his head to listen, nudged her gently, and then fell back into an easy walk. “She has a magical way with them,” she said.
“She certainly does,” Thomas agreed. “Of course, you did, too. Miles used to brag about you to me all the time.”
Carrie grinned. “We made a great team.” She sometimes could still hardly believe her childhood mentor had returned to work at the plantation.
Thomas changed the subject. “How are things going with Susan?”
“It couldn’t be better,” Carrie said enthusiastically. “She’s fit right into the stables. She knows she will be running things, but she has complete respect for Miles, Clint and Amber. She also has great ideas for the breeding program. I saw the papers for the mares she is planning on buying in the next few weeks.”
“You approve?” Thomas asked keenly.
“More than approve,” Carrie answered. “Abby and I have also been working with her on her negotiation skills. She will make us all proud.”
Thomas nodded but remained silent for several minutes.
Carrie was happy for the silence. She loved having the house full of guests for Christmas, but it was times like these that she was also reminded how much she craved solitude and silence.
“You haven’t changed your mind?” Thomas asked.
Carrie hid her smile at his careful tone. She was aware how difficult her decision to go to New Mexico was for him, but this was one time when she could imagine how she would feel if she was the parent. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
Thomas nodded. “I suspected as much, but a father holds on to hope.” He smiled ruefully. “I heard from Anthony before we came out.”
Carrie waited for whatever he had to say. Anthony had gone north to be with family for Christmas, but he had been working to finalize plans for her trip out with the army unit.
“They leave on February second. There will be one hundred men in the unit, enough to make sure you are safe. He sent the money I gave him to a connection in Independence. Two wagons have been purchased and are already waiting for you.”
Carrie laughed and hugged him. “Thank you! I know you are less than excited about my decision.”
“It certainly isn’t the first time,” Thomas said. “I’m quite certain it won’t be the last.” He shook his head. “For a while I had the crazy idea that as you got older you would make fewer decisions like this.”
“Did you now?” Carrie asked, a smile twitching her lips.
“Abby assured me you would never change,” he revealed. “That you would probably get bolder as you aged. She convinced me I shouldn’t count on you being different.”
“Poor Father,” Carrie murmured, her eyes dancing with laughter.
Thomas chuckled. “I’m not thrilled about you going to New Mexico, but I could not be prouder of you,” he said.
“Would it make you feel better if you knew Matthew and Janie were coming along?” She had been waiting to tell him until they were alone.
Thomas turned to stare at her. “What?”
Carrie nodded. “They have decided to join me.” She grew serious. “I suspect the train wreck was much harder for Janie than she has admitted. I can tell Matthew is worried about her. I’m certain he was the one who suggested the trip.”
Thomas looked skeptical. “And a trip on a wagon train in the midst of winter is supposed to help? Does she have any idea what she is getting herself into?”
Carrie shrugged. “None of us do, but Janie told me it would be better than another winter in Philadelphia.”
Thomas smiled but still looked doubtful.
*****
Marietta found Felicia in the kitchen making biscuits with Annie. She cocked a brow. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you cook before.”
Felicia looked up from the flour mix she was carefully stirring. “There is a science to good biscuits,” she said.
Marietta nodded, trying not to notice Annie rolling her eyes. “I see,” she said. “Would you care to share? I keep trying to make biscuits like Annie, but they are never quite the same. I think Jeremy despairs of me ever achieving it.”
Felicia giggled. “It’s not so hard. I read all about it.”
Annie couldn’t hold back the snort. “Can’t nobody learn how to make biscuits in no book.”
Felicia looked at her with pity. “You can learn anything in a book, Grandma.”
“Let’s just see how them biscuits turn out,” Annie retorted.
Marietta settled down on the chair next to the counter, pushing back the long red hair she had been in no mood to tame into a bun. Her blue eyes danced merrily. “I want the secrets,” she demanded.
Felicia smiled. “Most people mix their biscuit dough too much.” She carefully added the lard to the flour mix she had already stirred. “But first you have to snap the lard,” she explained.
Annie leaned forward at the same time Marietta did. “What you say about snappin’?” she demanded.
Felicia nodded. “You are supposed to pinch the flour and lard together like you are snapping your fingers. It keeps your biscuits real soft.”
“Ain’t never heard of such a thing, but at least you be makin’ it look like I do,” Annie said grudgingly.
Marietta watched carefully. She had never taken the time to read about baking biscuits. She was more than happy to learn from Felicia. She had tried to learn from Annie, but the old cook just told her to watch and learn. Annie moved so fast in the kitchen it was almost impossible to keep up with her, much less copy her technique.
“Once you have the lard snapped,” Felicia continued, “you add in the cream and the buttermilk. Most people mess up their biscuits at this step because they stir too much.” She stirred carefully, leaving the batter very lumpy.
“That lumpy?” Marietta asked. “I always make sure mine is smooth.”
“That be your problem,” Annie grunted. “You mix too much and you end up with tough biscuits that ain’t be worth eatin’.”
“You never told me that,” Marietta protested.
“Ain’t never asked me ‘bout it.”
“But you were supposed to be teaching me how to make biscuits like yours for Jeremy,” Marietta argued. She had suspected all along that Annie was holding back on her. Now she knew it was true.
Annie looked her over carefully. “I ain’t found me a white woman yet that can make a good southern biscuit.”
Felicia laughed at Marietta’s outraged expression. “You’ll be able to make them now, Miss Marietta. Just snap the lard, and don’t overmix them. Jeremy is going to be very happy.”
Annie looked displeased. “You ain’t supposed to tell all our secrets, Felicia. I wouldn’t a let you in my kitchen if I’d known you were gonna tell them.”
“You didn’t tell me either, Grandma. My mama told me that you don’t want anyone else to know how to make good biscuits, so you make it seem like some big secret. I made sure I read about it before I came in here.”
Annie planted her fists on her hips and glared at the little girl. “You think you be real smart, don’t you?”
“I am real smart,” Felicia said smugly. “Smart enough to be glad I can take making biscuits off my list now that I’ve made them. I’m more than happy to let you bake them all from now on. I’ll stay in the library!”
Annie couldn’t stop the deep chuckle. “I done got me a real smart granddaughter,” she said proudly. “But we still gots to see how them biscuits look when they come out the oven.”
*****
Ten minutes later, their plates full of perfect, tender biscuits slathered with melted butter and preserves, M
arietta and Felicia headed for the library. Marietta had already let everyone know to steer clear so she could have her Cocooning Rite time with the girl.
They pulled up chairs in front of the window, covered themselves with warm quilts, and sat quietly while they enjoyed their treat. “These are wonderful,” Marietta sighed. “And you really believe I can make them like this for Jeremy?” After so many dismal failures, she was almost afraid to try again. Jeremy was always gracious, but she could tell he was losing hope.
Felicia arched a brow. “If Jeremy wants them so badly, why doesn’t he learn to make them himself?” she asked. “Is there some rule that says only women can make biscuits?”
Marietta almost choked as she laughed helplessly. Once she had herself under control, she reached out and took Felicia’s hand. “There is hope for women in the future as long as the world is full of girls like you.”
“I’m serious,” Felicia replied. “I keep hearing about rules. Rules about how women are supposed to dress. Or how they are supposed to act. I read that women should make sure men believe they are smarter than them.” She rolled her eyes. “Who comes up with these rules? And why in the world do women think they have to live by them?”
“Where did you hear about the rules?”
“Mama suggested I should read some women’s magazines, so I read some issues of Godey’s Lady’s Book and Harper’s Bazaar.” She rolled her eyes. “There were a few good articles, but most of what I read made me wish I had been born a man.” She shook her head in disgust.
“What magazines do you enjoy?”
Felicia’s eyes lit up. “I love The American Freedman, and the American Journal of Science. I’ve also read every issue Thomas had of The Knickerbocker, but they quit publishing it two years ago.” She shook her head. “It was a huge loss when they quit publishing. I’ve learned about so many things in that magazine, but I also learned a lot about the area where Carrie, Janie and Matthew will be in New Mexico, and I’ve learned a lot about Chooli’s people.”
Marietta eyed her thoughtfully. “I am going to make sure my children have the same hunger for knowledge that you do, Felicia. Because you know so much, you are able to cut through the nonsense to what is true or false.”
