by Ginny Dye
“Oh, I’m sure you have,” Lillian retorted. “We’ve just learned to stay silent and blend in. It’s the only way to live when people hate you for being who you are. You wouldn’t understand.”
Rose smiled slightly. “Really? I live in a world where people hate me because I’m black. I think it would be rather nice to have the opportunity to stay silent and blend in.”
Lillian flushed. “You’re right. I’m sorry I said that,” she replied contritely. “I know your people have gone through horrible times, and are still suffering. One is not harder than the other, though. When you are forced to stay silent and blend in, you start to become invisible. Not just to others, but also to yourself.”
Rose nodded. “I can understand that. Look, Lillian, I liked you a few minutes ago before I knew you were homosexual. Why should I like you any less now? I don’t pretend to understand it, but it doesn’t change who you are.” She took a breath, allowing herself a moment to collect her thoughts. “I have a life now because there were people who saw me as something more than just a black woman. When I look at you, I see someone who is a great teacher. I see someone who loves children. I see someone who is wonderful with horses.” She paused again, holding Lillian with her eyes. “I see someone I like.”
Lillian seemed to sag with relief, but the concern did not leave her eyes. “Not everyone feels the same way you do.”
“No,” Rose agreed. “The world is full of ignorant people who can’t see beyond skin color and labels. You don’t need to worry that I will tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you,” Lillian said sincerely.
“So what is her name?” Rose asked, knowing Lillian needed to purge the pain that had started their discussion.
“Roberta,” Lillian answered. “We met each other in Cincinnati when I finished school.” Her eyes softened. “We lived together for two years. Just as friends, of course. At least that’s what everyone thought.”
“What happened?” Rose asked gently. She didn’t understand homosexuality, but she did understand love, and she understood pain.
“We were careful, but there were people who figured it out.” Lillian’s voice choked. “There were a group of men who pulled Roberta into an alley when she was on her way home from work. They beat her with a bat.” Tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks. “When she made her way home, I barely recognized her. I took care of her, but when she was better, she left town to go back to Minnesota. She said she would feel safer there.”
Rose gripped her hands. “Why didn’t you go with her?”
“I wanted to,” Lillian gasped out between her tears. “She wouldn’t let me. They scared her so bad that she said she wanted to spend the rest of her life alone.”
“They didn’t come after you?” Rose asked.
“I got the job offer here the day after Roberta left town.” Lillian shook her head. “I still think about her every day.”
“Roberta? Or Bertha?” Rose asked gently.
Lillian sighed heavily. “I forgot I told you about Bertha,” she finally admitted. She shrugged. “I decided to never say her real name in connection to me because I don’t want to increase her risk.”
“So she wasn’t sick,” Rose murmured, completely able to relate to the terror Bertha must have felt when she was pulled into the alley. Just the thought took her back to the day Ike Adams had done the same to her, planning on raping her. Matthew had saved her. “I am so sorry, Lillian.”
A long silence stretched between them as they both considered what had been revealed. Rose could tell Lillian was torn between relief and regret. She could also imagine the pain Lillian was in. Being separated from people you love was excruciating.
“Do you hear from her?”
“No. She wouldn’t give me an address or even tell me where exactly she was going. I have no way to contact her.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The mistrust flared in Lillian’s eyes. “Are you?” she demanded.
Rose gazed at her for a long moment. “My mother was a slave here on the plantation, and married to John, a man she loved very much. Thomas Cromwell’s father raped her one day. She never told anyone, even after she discovered she was pregnant. For all she knew, the baby was her husband’s…until she gave birth to twins.” Rose paused as she imagined her mother’s horror and confusion. “One looked white. I looked black.”
Lillian sucked in a breath. “Oh my.”
Rose nodded. “Thomas’ father sold my brother that day, and he sold her husband a few days later. She didn’t see her husband again until I was eighteen. They had less than a year together before he died. My mama never told me about my brother until right before she passed away. Other than the day he was born, she never saw him again.”
“Jeremy?” Lillian asked.
“Yes,” Rose said with a tender smile. “He is my twin brother, and the baby who was sold.” She gripped Lillian’s hands again. “While I might not understand what it is like to be homosexual, I do understand what it is like to be judged for something you have no control over.”
Lillian stared at her. “You don’t believe I’m homosexual just because I’m a terrible sinner?”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t believe many would choose to be black because it certainly makes life far more challenging than being white. So why would anyone just choose to be homosexual? Surely it would be easier to love men.”
“You are extraordinary,” Lillian said in an awed voice. “And you’re not going to tell?”
“I will not tell,” Rose promised. “And I believe you are a wonderful teacher. I hope you will be here for a long time.”
Lillian smiled. “I do, too, Rose. I do, too.”
*****
The porch was lined with people when the carriage pulled up to the house. All three of them had slept through much of the trip, even after a good night’s sleep in Richmond. Carrie was glad they were not arriving weary and fatigued. Suddenly, as much as she still missed life on the trail, there was no place she would rather be than Cromwell Plantation.
Crisp air caressed her skin as red and gold leaves rustled above her head. The horses, seeming to know important people were arriving, all stood at attention in the field, their ears pricked forward. Even the foals were standing still beside their mamas. Granite, knowing who had arrived, whinnied loudly and broke away from the group, racing down the fence line, his eyes latched onto his mistress.
“Hello, Granite!” Carrie called. Joy surged through her. Then they were at the house, and she was being pulled from the carriage. The next minutes were a pandemonium of hugs, laughter and tears.
Once her condition was recognized, Janie became the center of attention.
“You’re pregnant!” Abby cried.
Janie grinned. “So I am.”
“Due in January or February,” Matthew said proudly. “We figured it was time for a new baby around here.”
Jeremy, who had not been on the porch when they arrived, walked out just then. “We’ll beat you to it, my friend.”
Carrie looked up as Marietta emerged behind him. “Oh my,” she murmured. “Are you due today?” She laughed with delight.
Marietta pulled Carrie as close as she could in a hug. “In a couple weeks. Is it all right to say I’m relieved you’re home?”
“It is, but I’m sure Polly could deliver your baby,” Carrie assured her. “You won’t be in Richmond for the birth?”
Marietta shook her head. “No, we’ve decided to stay here on the plantation until the baby is born.”
Carrie understood instantly. Jeremy and Marietta didn’t want the baby in Richmond until they knew what color it would be. “I see,” she said. “Then I’m honored to be here to be part of the birth.” She could only imagine the strain of not knowing. She was aware, without being told, that their future would be determined by the race of their child.
Matthew turned to Thomas. “Harold was not at the house. Do you know where he is?”
“Right here,” Harold called, striding up onto the porch. “I just got back from a ride with Susan. You, my brother, are a sight for sore eyes. I’m glad you didn’t get carried off by the Indians.”
“Far from it,” Matthew said before he pulled his brother into a bear hug. “The Navajo helped me make sense out of the last years of my life.”
Abby slipped an arm around both him and Janie. “Congratulations, you two. You’ll make marvelous parents, and from the shine in your eyes, I know the wagon train mission was a success.”
“We have so much to tell you,” Matthew agreed.
“We do,” Carrie echoed, “but first I have to go say hello to my horse.” She ran to the pasture fence and wrapped her arms around Granite’s neck. “I missed you, boy. I promise we’ll go out tomorrow.” Granite bobbed his head and nuzzled her shoulder, his eyes soft with love.
Talk swirled around the porch late into the afternoon, fueled by copious quantities of fried chicken, potato salad, corn and pie. When the chill chased them inside, they built a roaring fire and continued to share stories and experiences.
The factory was doing well. Harold had enough stories written to finish Glimmers of Change, and to start the next one the publisher was demanding. Abby couldn’t wait for Carrie to meet Willard and Grace.
Carrie’s mind swirled with everything she had learned. President Johnson’s impeachment trial had ended with one vote too few to put him out of office. He was still president, but it was certain that Ulysses S. Grant would replace him in the election next month. Surely progress would be made in racial equality then.
*****
Carrie stepped out onto the porch to get some fresh air and still her mind, and Rose stepped out to join her. The two friends grabbed each other tightly. Neither said a word for several long minutes. Time melted away, but both knew there were experiences to share that would stand between them until they had been heard and understood. It was not possible that either of them had remained unchanged during the nine months they had been apart. Just as they had after the war, they would learn who the other person had become, and their friendship would deepen.
“How much longer will you and Moses be here?” Carrie finally asked.
Rose smiled. “We were going to return to Ohio in two days,” she revealed, “but we decided to stay another ten days when you arrived. We’ll miss a week of classes, but I don’t believe there will be a problem. I don’t really care, but we are both doing well, and Felicia is so far ahead no one will say a word.”
Carrie sagged with relief. She was happy to see everyone, but seeing Rose was like connecting with a part of her soul. Her time with the Navajo had taught her the precious value of that more than ever.
“Am I interrupting?”
Carrie turned to pull Abby into an embrace that encompassed the three of them. “Never,” she whispered.
The three women stood silently as their arms encircled each other. No words were needed. Stories would be told, but for this moment it was enough to be together.
Carrie felt the magic of the plantation weave its way into her heart again. She hoped the time would come when she could return to the splendor of the West, but Cromwell Plantation was home. At least for now.
“How long will you be here?” Abby murmured. “I wasn’t going to ask because I’m afraid I might not like the answer, but I find I can’t help myself.”
“I don’t know,” Carrie admitted. “I haven’t asked myself that question yet. It’s enough for right now just to be home.”
“Who are you now?” Abby asked, stepping back so that the lantern light fell fully on Carrie’s face.
Carrie smiled. “Who are we all? It was New Year’s Day when the three of us sat on the log by the river and talked about walking into the unknown. I could never have imagined on that day what the decision to go to New Mexico would mean to me.”
“I’m so glad the Navajo are back in their homeland,” Rose said. “And you and the team saved so many lives.”
“Yes,” Carrie agreed, but she knew that information was not the answer to Abby’s question. She thought back to the conversation with Todd on the bluffs overlooking the Rio Grande. “The Navajo endured so many horrors. They had every reason to be bitter and angry. They had every reason to have lost all hope, and they had every reason to give up on life.” She paused, knowing Abby and Rose would give her all the time she needed to communicate her feelings. The knowing made her love them even more. “They didn’t, though. When they found out they were being allowed to go back home, they decided they would not let the past define their future.” The power of the words hit her again now, standing on her porch in Virginia, as hard as they had back in New Mexico.
“They would not let the past define their future,” Abby murmured, “and neither are you.”
“That’s right,” Carrie said. “Whatever I have gone through, it is nothing compared to the terrible things done to the Navajo over the last five years. They have decided it will not define their futures. And, yes, I have decided the same thing.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know what my next step is, but I don’t need to know right now. I’m home. I intend to ride Granite, sit by the fire, and be with the people I love. I’ll know the next step when it is time to take it.”
“I don’t want to go back to Ohio,” Rose cried suddenly. “How can I leave? I’ve missed you so much.”
“You have to,” Carrie said. “I don’t want you to go away, but you have to finish what you have started. You’ll always wonder what you could have accomplished if you had stayed at Oberlin.”
Rose stared at her for several long moments, and then looked at Abby in defeat. “She is becoming a wise woman.”
“I think it was your mama who told me great wisdom comes from great suffering,” Carrie retorted. “It’s the only thing that makes the suffering worthwhile.” She thought about the things Chooli’s mother had told her before she left. “Every experience can give us wisdom if we let it.”
The door opened behind them, ending the moment.
“Franklin and Chooli are here,” Moses called. “I thought you would want to know.”
Carrie smiled and reached for the letter in her pocket. “We’re coming.”
*****
Carrie, Matthew and Janie had shared parts of their trip to New Mexico, but they had deliberately stalled a full telling until Franklin and Chooli joined them. Franklin had not been able to get away until the last wagons of dried tobacco were ready to depart the plantation for Richmond the next morning.
The parlor was packed full of people. Gabe, Polly, Clint and Amber had arrived. Susan had finished work in the barn, arriving with Miles and Lillian shortly before dark. Annie carried trays of food to the tables before she settled down to join them, her hand clasped firmly in Miles’. John was perched on Moses’ lap, his eyes wide with excitement. Hope, who was full of boundless energy, had finally settled down and fallen asleep in Rose’s arms. Carrie regretted Simon and June weren’t there with Little Simon and Ella, but they had left early that morning after the end of the Harvest Festival the day before.
“I believe everyone is here,” Thomas finally said, his eyes full of pride as he looked at his daughter.
Carrie gazed at her father for a long moment, her heart bursting with gratitude for the love they shared, before she stood and moved next to the fireplace. During the long months away, it had become as natural as breathing for her to address groups and assume a leadership role. Talking to her family and friends was something she had so looked forward to.
“I believe I first need to congratulate the young woman who stole my title at the tournament yesterday.” She smiled at Amber. “I know you were glad I was away on the wagon train,” she teased.
Amber tossed her head. “I’m growing up, Carrie, and I practice a lot,” she said confidently. “I would have won even if you were here,” she stated. Then she laughed and ran to the front of the room to throw her arms around Carrie. “I love you. I’m so glad yo
u’re home! Robert would be real glad, too!”
Carrie blinked back tears and returned the hug. Cromwell Plantation would always carry the memories of her husband, but she could feel his presence urging her into the future while pulling her into the peace of the present. She was no longer fighting it.
“The last nine months have been some of the most amazing months of my life,” she began. She told everyone of the long days on the wagon train. She told them about the blizzard, and how the team had learned to work together in that first crisis. She told of first arriving at Bosque Redondo.
“My family?” Chooli whispered.
Carrie walked over to take Chooli’s hand. “They are all fine, Chooli. They miss you very much.”
Chooli broke out into a musical laugh softened by tears streaming down her face. “All of them? Shizhe`e? Shima? Shichei? Shimasani?”
“Yes. Your father. Your mother. Your grandmother. Your grandfather.” Carrie interpreted the Navajo for the others listening. “They send their love to you and to Franklin, and most especially to Ajei.” She looked at the beautiful little girl sitting quietly on Chooli’s lap. “I can hardly believe Ajei is a year old.”
“Yesterday,” Chooli said proudly. She looked at Carrie imploringly. “Please tell me more.”
Carrie took a deep breath, sharing the horrors of Bosque Redondo. She spoke of the illnesses, the ceremony where Shimasani had allowed her to use her medicine, and of all the people her team had saved. She watched Chooli’s face stiffen with agony, but knew it would soon give way to joy.
“I’m glad we saved so many of them,” Carrie continued. “They were ready to go when the Navajo went home.” She met and held Chooli’s eyes as she let silence follow her announcement.
The Navajo woman stared at her, obviously searching for words. “Home?” she finally murmured.
Carrie told everyone of General Sherman’s visit to the camp. Chooli’s eyes widened with disbelief when she told of the treaty that had been signed. “It took three weeks before the wagon train was ready to take the tribe home.” Carrie paused. “We went with them.”
