by Ginny Dye
Todd was there as well. “Shima wishes to tell you something.”
Carrie nodded, waiting while Shima spoke with great passion for several minutes. The Navajo woman turned several times to gaze at Tsoodził. Carrie didn’t have to understand the words to know Shima held great reverence for the mountain, but it did nothing to settle the churning in her spirit.
When she was silent, Todd cleared his throat. “Shima wishes you to know that the Navajo are glad to be back in their homeland. They know there are many hard times ahead, but now that they are home where the Holy People want them, they will once again thrive and become great. The white men tried to destroy them, but they have failed. The Holy People are waiting for them within the sanctuary of their four sacred mountains. They are not afraid of the future now that they are free to live it.” Todd’s eyes misted. “When they were ripped apart from their home, they were forced to walk into a great darkness. They could not see how anything good could come from it, but they were forced to walk. Now they have returned home. She believes they are a stronger and wiser people, and that they will build an even greater nation.”
“But—”
Todd held up his hand to stop Carrie’s interruption. “When Chooli left with Franklin, once again they walked into a darkness. Chooli did, too. It broke their heart to see their daughter leave with what would be their first grandchild, but they knew it must be. Chooli sent you, Carrie. You and your friends who have saved so many lives. She told me to tell you that you have done a great thing. You have saved many who would have died. You have saved many who will return and build a stronger Navajo Nation. Not everyone has returned. Many have taken the last journey, but the ones who have come home will survive. They will never forget, and they will never let the generations to come forget what Bosque Redondo was.”
Carrie’s eyes filled with tears as she turned to embrace Shima.
“Thank you,” Shima whispered. “I love you, daughter.”
The tears Carrie was trying to control slid down her cheeks. Shima had learned those words just so she could say them to Carrie. She hugged the older woman more tightly, certain she would never forget this moment.
*****
Two weeks later, on a morning full of the glorious sunshine Carrie had come to expect, she said good-bye to Chooli’s parents and grandparents. She had said good-bye to many of the Navajo in the past days as they departed the group for their old homesteads, or stopped at Fort Defiance. She forced her mind away from wondering how long they would wait for the promises made by the government to be fulfilled. They would wait—or not—and then they would begin to rebuild the lives they had been robbed of.
The last week had been spent in Canyon de Chelly with Chooli’s family and seventy-five others—all that remained of the three hundred people that had started on the Long March from their group. The sheer splendor and beauty of the canyon had stolen Carrie’s breath at almost every curve. Never had she seen anything so magnificent. Her peace had grown as she had seen the joy blossom on Chooli’s family’s faces. They assured her they would replant the cornfields and peach orchards that had been destroyed. The winter would be hard, but they would survive, rebuilding their homes and enjoying the freedom that had been stolen from them. They would grow all they could through the rest of the summer. They also had some supplies from the army, and would gather everything edible they could find.
Their final night, Chooli’s grandfather had led a long ceremonial ritual asking the Holy People to bless them and to give them safe journey as they returned home. It had lasted long into the night, but no one had wanted to leave the glowing fire.
“We will be fine,” Shizhe`e assured her, his eyes warm with love. “You are our daughter.” He looked around the group. “You are our children.”
Carrie grabbed Chooli’s father into a fierce hug. “Good-bye, Shizhe`e. I love you.”
Then she turned to Chooli’s mother and pulled her close. “Good-bye, Shima. I love you so much.”
“Love you, my daughter,” Shima whispered. “Give Chooli love.”
Carrie nodded, and then embraced Chooli’s grandmother. “Good-bye, Shimasani. I love you.”
“Love you,” Shimasani replied, her gnarled hands holding Carrie’s face gently before she leaned forward to kiss her. “Thank you.”
Carrie was weeping openly now. It was so hard to say good-bye to them. How had Chooli done it? Finally, she turned to Chooli’s grandfather, the revered medicine man who had taught her so much, and who had trusted them to help his people. “Good-bye, Shichei,” she murmured. “I love you. And I will miss you.”
Shichei held her close for several moments, and then stepped back enough to look into her eyes. “You great woman, Carrie. Big medicine. I love you.”
*****
Carrie was settled in the wagon when Chooli’s grandmother stepped up to her.
The old woman, her eyes full of sadness, pressed an envelope in her hands. “For Chooli.”
Carrie grasped the envelope tightly. “Yes. For Chooli.”
She and her entire team waved until they were out of sight.
It was time to go home.
An Invitation
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Chapter Thirty-Two
Carrie wasn’t surprised when no one met them at the train station in Richmond. She had sent a telegraph two days ago when they left Independence, Missouri, but she suspected everyone would already be on the plantation for the Harvest Festival that was taking place today. Part of her was sorry to miss it, but the bigger part was glad for a chance to ease back into the life she had left over eight months ago. “We’ll stay at the house tonight and then go out to the plantation in the morning,” she told Matthew and Janie.
“Perfect,” Janie breathed. “It will be wonderful to see Micah and May, but I’m glad for a chance to take a bath and sleep in a real bed for a night.”
“My feelings exactly,” Matthew seconded. “I appreciate the speed of train travel, but the last two days have been brutal.” He grasped Janie’s hand. I can’t imagine doing it five months pregnant.”
Carrie could not have agreed more. She had savored their return trip on the wagon train, not minding the searing heat of the desert and the Kansas Plains because it made long swims in the lakes and rivers even more wonderful. Following the trail back when it was not covered in snow had been eye-opening. She loved the unending green grasses, and the herds of buffalo and antelope. Thankfully, there had been no trouble with Indians, and her entire team had grown even closer during the months of travel.
Returning to Independence had been an assault on her senses, and the crowded conditions of the train had felt like torture. She was excited to see everyone, but grateful for a day to acclimate.
At least summer had released its grip on the South. Early October had brought cooler temperatures, and was beginning to kiss the leaves with color that would soon be brilliant. New buildings had gone up in Richmond during her absence, and the city was losing the weariness thrust on it by four years of war. Throngs of people bundled in light coats smiled and laughed as they made their way down the streets.
Matthew loaded their bags into the carriage he’d hailed. When he returned, he had a broad smile on his face. “The driver will take us to the pla
ntation tomorrow.”
“Perfect!” Carrie exclaimed. She had wondered what they would do; certain Spencer had taken the rest of the family. Then she looked at Janie more closely. “You look exhausted. Are you certain you’ll be ready to go out in the morning?” She knew two days of train travel had been taxing on her friend. “Another day of rest might be a good idea.” She and Matthew had both learned not to coddle Janie, but she also knew Janie would never do anything to put her baby at risk.
“I’m fine,” Janie said. “After we eat, I’ll take a bath and go to bed. I’m too excited to see everyone to wait any longer.” Her eyes gleamed as she spoke. Pregnancy had indeed given her a glow.
“You just want to tell everyone you’re going to have a baby,” Carrie teased. She was grateful the reality no longer caused a pang in her heart. She was simply glad for her friends.
“Of course I do!” Janie retorted. “I can’t believe it’s been eight months since we’ve seen everyone. I can hardly wait to hear all the news.”
Carrie was secretly relieved Janie hadn’t chosen to stay in Richmond another day. She would have been happy to stay to protect the little life growing inside her friend, but she was eager to be on the plantation again. Now that they were so close, it was pulling her forward. She thought about the letter waiting for them when they arrived in Independence. Abby, with no knowledge of when they would arrive back in Missouri, and with no communication other than what Carrie had sent back after the blizzard, had sent them a letter more than a month ago. Everyone, including Rose and Moses would be on the plantation for the Harvest Festival. She had hinted at exciting news, but had left them dangling in suspense.
May was standing on the porch, her mouth gaping in surprise, before the carriage rolled to a complete stop. “I been watching every carriage that done come down this road for the last month,” she called. “It’s about time you folks done get home!” Her eyes widened when Janie stepped from the carriage. “Well, if that don’t beat all. Miss Janie, you’s gonna have a baby!”
“I am,” Janie replied with a laugh. “My little one and I are hungry for some real food, May.”
Minutes later, after greetings had been exchanged, they were seated in the parlor with hot tea and hot scones slathered with butter.
Matthew groaned as he bit into one, steam rising from his bite. “I have died and gone to heaven,” he moaned. “I’m sure if I had to eat one more rock hard biscuit on the trail, my stomach would have simply refused it.”
Carrie smiled but found herself missing everything about the Santa Fe Trail, even the hard biscuits. She had come to cherish quiet above everything else in her life. She pushed aside the uncomfortable question of how she would find it again, and how she would deal with not having it.
May stuck her head out from the kitchen. “You’ll have a feast soon. I figure all three of you will appreciate the baths Micah is fixing for you right now. Dinner will be ready when y’all be clean again.” She fixed Janie with a stern gaze. “And then you be going to bed, young lady. After all that train riding, you and your baby need to get some rest.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Janie murmured. She stifled a yawn. “I couldn’t agree more.”
*****
Rose walked with Lillian through the woods, luxuriating in the fresh morning air. They had been home for a week. She knew it had been good for all of them, but especially for Moses. He missed the plantation so much. When she found him in Oberlin staring out the window, she knew he was thinking of home—watching the tobacco grow in his mind. He had been thrilled to discover another record-breaking crop. He received regular communication from Franklin, but there was nothing like seeing it for himself. He had spent every minute since his arrival with his men in the fields, or in the curing barn. He came in every night smelling of dirt, sweat, rich tobacco and wood smoke.
The only time he could be persuaded to leave the fields was when Simon and June arrived with their four-month-old daughter, Ella Pearl. The precious baby had immediately stolen everyone’s hearts. Rose still hated that she had missed the entire pregnancy, but June had understood. She and Moses had planned being on the plantation all summer, but Felicia had been excited to start college when the summer term began. They couldn’t bring themselves to disappoint her. It had been pure joy to watch her thrive and grow in an environment that both challenged and supported her.
“Is it good to be back?” Lillian asked.
Rose looked at the woman who had already become a good friend. “Of course.”
“But…?”
Rose hadn’t realized there was a but, though she couldn’t deny she felt it once it had been pointed out. She had seen her students and was thrilled to learn they loved Lillian, and that they were learning at a rapid speed. They didn’t care that Lillian was white, and she didn’t care that half her students were black. She treated them all the same, and she had the same expectations for all of them. “You’re quite perceptive,” she said lightly, wondering if she could avoid the question.
“Yes.” Lillian said nothing else, but she held Rose’s eyes.
Rose sighed. “The plantation doesn’t feel like home without Carrie,” she admitted. “Being apart from her at school was hard, but I am so busy every day that I don’t have time to obsess about it. But here?” She shook her head. “Everywhere I look there are memories of Carrie. I wish she were here. I hoped we would see her before we leave, but no one has heard from her, and we have no idea when she will be home.” She swallowed the rest of her fears, knowing it would do no good to express them. They would have been informed if something had happened to her or to any of the others. “I can’t stand the idea of going back to school without seeing her.”
“The two of you are very close,” Lillian said.
Rose couldn’t miss the envy in her voice. “We’ve been best friends since we were children. I may have been her slave, but we were friends. When we found out we were related, and then Moses and I became free, it didn’t make us any closer, but it gave us more memories. Living here on the plantation together after the war, except for the months Carrie was away at school, was wonderful.” Her voice caught. “I miss her.”
“Can’t she travel to Ohio to visit you when she returns?” Lillian asked.
“Yes,” Rose murmured, “but—”
“It’s not here, where all your memories are,” Lillian finished.
“Yes,” Rose said again, grateful for Lillian’s understanding.
“You’re lucky to have a friend like that.”
“I know,” Rose agreed. She looked at Lillian more closely. There was something Rose could not identify in her eyes, and something lurking in her voice that seemed like it wanted to stay hidden. Rose told herself she was imagining things, but the feeling would not go away. “Do you have a friend like that, Lillian?”
Lillian hesitated for a long moment, looking off at the horizon. “I did,” she admitted.
Rose could almost feel the pain and loneliness rolling off her. “Did something happen to her?” she asked sympathetically.
Lillian stared at Rose. Finally, she shook her head. “No.”
Rose knew there was more than she was telling her, but she didn’t know Lillian well enough to press her. She tried to think of a way to change the subject, but she couldn’t let it go. She knew the look of a woman in pain. “You can talk to me,” she murmured, reaching out to take Lillian’s hand. “I know we don’t know each other well, but if it would help to talk, I will listen.”
Lillian stiffened and pulled her hand away. “You will listen, but I promise you will not understand.”
Rose was more mystified than ever. “I can try.”
“It will do no good,” Lillian muttered.
Rose gazed at her new friend, aching for the agony she saw etched into Lillian’s eyes. She prayed for her mother’s wisdom. “Whatever it is seems to be eating you up inside.”
Lillian shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Why?” Ro
se asked. “Not talking about it doesn’t seem to be making you feel better.”
“Not talking about it won’t end up with me having a hole bored through my nose,” Lillian snapped, her eyes sparking into anger.
If Rose had been mystified before, now she was totally confused, but her questions were obviously upsetting Lillian. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t be prying.”
Lillian’s eyes dropped, along with her entire posture. “I’m the one who is sorry,” she said. “There are times I believe I should talk about it, but I’m in the wrong part of the country.”
Rose remained silent. She didn’t want to push any further. If Lillian wanted to talk, she would.
“President Jefferson recommended that the state of Virginia should either castrate men or punish women by having a hole bored into the nose,” Lillian said quietly. “He even authored a bill to that effect.”
“Why?” Rose gasped. “I’ve heard of horrible things being done to blacks, but you’re not black.”
“I’m a homosexual,” Lillian said flatly. Her eyes were defiant but took on a stark shadow of fear.
Rose remained silent as she processed the information. She had never known a homosexual before, but obviously Lillian had suffered greatly for being one. All Rose knew was that she liked Lillian. She had liked her before she knew she was a homosexual. Why should that change now? “I see,” she murmured.
“It’s against the law, you know. Are you going to report me?” Lillian demanded, her quick anger fading back to fear. She shook her head heavily. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Of course I’m not going to report you,” Rose said immediately. “I’m sorry, I’ve never met a homosexual before.”
