“Because she is young and pretty. The men have set their sights on her. Charlie Staunton seems to think she is the daughter of an English duke.”
The look in Father Molloys’ eyes suggested Charlie might have been closer to the truth than anyone realized.
“Her history and background doesn’t matter. Why can’t people keep their opinions to themselves? The world would be a much easier place if everyone kept a vow of silence.”
Gary was left staring at the priest as he marched away. It was so unlike Father Molloy. There was something more to this than a few men making comments. Father Molloy knew as well as anyone the arrival of a young, single lady to Clover Springs was bound to generate interest. She’d be lucky if she survived a week before being inundated with marriage proposals.
He wished Doc Erin was here to speak to the new schoolteacher but she had driven out to see Mrs. Grey. He wished there was another woman he felt comfortable asking for help but there wasn’t.
Chapter 15
Erin pulled up outside Mrs. Grey’s home. She hoped her friend would understand her taking time off to go to New York. She jumped down from the wagon, tied the horse to the rail, and knocked on the front door. It was opened promptly by Mrs. Grey dressed to go out.
“Mrs. Grey, are you busy?”
“Come in, Doc. I heard a wagon drive up but wasn't expecting you to be driving. I thought you favored riding.”
“I do but I was hoping I would be able to give you a lift into town,” Erin said, trying not to alarm Mrs. Grey.
“That is very nice of you. I was just on my way to the clinic. Is something wrong? It is, isn’t it?” Mrs. Grey asked, her voice rising slightly with worry.
“I need your help. Have you heard about Wilma?” Erin asked softly.
“No, what happened?”
“She collapsed at the orphanage. I think…” Before Erin could elaborate, Mrs. Grey interrupted.
“Her heart?”
“I don't think it helped but I think it’s more than that. She has been lying down for three days,” Erin said, wondering how she could say that she thought it was more of a mental issue than a physical one.
“Why didn’t you come get me before?”
“We expected Wilma to recover.”
“But she hasn't?”
“Physically she has. Her breathing is back to normal and the rest in bed has done her heart some good. But… I don't know and I feel a little silly even saying it out loud, but I think Wilma has decided she has had enough.”
“Enough of what?” Mrs. Grey's curious stare made Erin feel even more uncomfortable. What if she was wrong and Wilma had something seriously wrong with her? But she had grown used to listening to the voice in her head.
“Mrs. Grey, I honestly don't know. I just have a feeling. Wilma has been acting differently for a little while now. I thought she was tired so I gave her something to help her sleep.”
“Did she take too much?” Mrs. Grey demanded. Anyone watching them would think she was cross, but Erin knew her well enough to know the gruff exterior hid a heart of gold.
“No, in fact, she doesn’t seem to have taken any of the medicine I gave her. The bottle looks as full as it was leaving the clinic.” Erin looked at the other woman. “I know you have experience of nursing during the war. I have been doing some reading on the soldiers who just gave up. Those that were expected to recover and didn't.”
“Wilma isn’t in a war!”
The dubious expression on the other woman's face as well as her stating the obvious nearly made Erin give up. But instead, she decided to just say it. “I have been reading about soldiers who suffer relapse some years later. Mick still has nightmares, although I don’t think he would be happy with my sharing that information. I wonder if some trauma Wilma went through is now eating her up inside.”
Mrs. Grey remained silent. Erin waited, not sure if she should give the woman a moment to think or if she should say something else. But what? If she was wrong, the people of Clover Springs would think she had lost her mind.
“What would you like me to do, Doc?”
“You are Wilma's friend.”
“She has closer friends.”
Erin got the impression Mrs. Grey was trying to avoid seeing Wilma but she didn’t understand why.
“She has young friends like Laura, Ellen, Alicia, and even me. But you are nearer in age to Wilma. You may have some insight into what she is dealing with.”
Mrs. Grey paced making Erin feel even more uncomfortable. Had she made a big mistake coming here?
“Mrs. Grey, I came for three reasons. One, because I think you and Wilma are closer friends than you are leading me to believe. I know she admires and respects you and you feel the same way for her. But even more importantly, I have seen you in action and heard stories about your deeds. You are not a quitter. You have a strength of character few can mirror.”
“I am not the right person for Wilma to speak to. Can't you ask Father Molloy?”
“It’s a female friend she needs.”
“Has she said that?”
“No, she hasn’t said anything,” Erin admitted reluctantly.
Mrs. Grey stopped pacing and sat down. “Erin, what do you know about me?”
“Enough to know you are a wonderful nurse and a good friend.”
“I was born on a plantation outside Richmond. My father owned slaves. Our family used people like Wilma to attend to their every need. When my father needed more male slaves, he sold the female ones. He broke up families and sent them to the auction block where they likely as not never saw their mothers or children again,” Mrs. Grey blurted out, her hands shanking with agitation.
“You didn’t do that, Mrs. Grey,” Erin spoke softly trying to hide her shock. Of course she knew Mrs. Grey originally came from the south as she still had the accent, particularly when someone annoyed her. But she hadn’t given the issue of owning slaves any further thought.
“No, but I was part of the society who kept amazing people like Wilma tethered like animals. Worse than livestock.”
“Does Wilma know about your past?”
“I don't know. It isn’t something we discussed.”
“Well, maybe now is a good time to start. She may just get so fired up at the story you tell, she will come back to us fighting.” Erin smiled but Mrs. Grey didn't smile back. “Mrs. Grey, you weren’t responsible for what your father or your society did but now you have a real chance to help. Can’t you try? Wilma would help you if the situation was reversed.”
“Yes, she would. I will try, Doc, but you mark my words, this could be the biggest mistake we have ever made.”
“It could also be the best decision. I will ask Father Molloy to pray for us.”
Mrs. Grey stood up. “Let me get my shawl and my bible. I can read a little for Wilma.”
As they rode back into town, Mrs. Grey asked. “Erin, you said there was a third reason for asking me.”
“There is and I feel rather guilty about it, especially given how long I was away studying.”
“But…” Mrs. Grey prompted.
“Alicia and her family are going to New York. They offered to bring us as well, as a wedding present. I have friends in the city whom I would love to see. My old housekeeper Mrs. Doherty has written to me, but her letter isn’t as upbeat as she would normally be. I fear she may have suffered financially due to the scandal surrounding me.”
“Oh, you poor girl. You can’t be blamed for any of that. Of course you must go. As you said, you can’t do any more for Wilma, and Doc is here if we need him.”
“But what if I am wrong?”
“About Wilma? I doubt that very much. I haven’t worked with you for long but I think you are an excellent doctor. You think not only with your head but with your heart. You have an instinct for your patients. It’s a good thing.”
“So you don’t mind?” Erin asked.
“I will miss you. We all will. But you are a newly married woman. It�
�s time to make a fuss of your husband and he of you. You and Mick share something beautiful. Don’t ever let it die or come second to anything or anyone else. Promise me?”
Feeling rather overcome by the sincerity behind Mrs. Grey’s words, Erin nodded as she couldn’t speak. She thanked the Lord for the day she had landed in Clover Springs.
“I will look after Wilma. Don’t worry about her. Just come back safely. We don’t want to lose you to New York. You belong here.”
Erin wanted to hug the older woman but felt it might be inappropriate, so instead, squeezed her arm. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Chapter 16
Doc Erin dropped Mrs. Grey off at the orphanage but didn’t come in with her. She had to go back to the clinic to make sure there weren’t any last-minute emergencies to deal with before she left for New York.
Mrs. Grey stood outside the door of the orphanage for so long Samuel opened it and asked her if she was coming in or not. She knew he was teasing but she couldn’t smile. She was too worried about Wilma.
“Mrs. Grey, please don’t look so concerned. Wilma will get better. She will be very pleased you are here.” Samuel had spoken kindly as he held the door open and offered her his good hand to help her inside. She took it as her legs felt shaky.
“Would you like some coffee here or will I send it up to you later?”
“I don’t need coffee but thank you, Samuel, for your kindness,’’ she said in a shaky voice.
Mrs. Grey pushed the bedroom door open quietly not wanting to wake Wilma if she was asleep. Part of her hoped she was. She loved Wilma, but would her speaking about her past ruin their friendship? Until now, they had always worked off the basis the past should be left in the past. But was that just the coward’s way out?
She moved toward the bed. Wilma was awake but instead of her usual cheery greeting, she remained silent.
“Good morning, Wilma, bit late for you to still be in bed, isn’t it?” Mrs. Grey teased but when there was no response from Wilma she changed her tone. “Wilma whatever your surname is, don’t you close your eyes to me. You got to get over this...whatever this is. We need you up. Clover Springs isn’t the same without you.”
Wilma still didn't react, making Mrs. Grey extremely worried.
She sat at the edge of the bed taking one of Wilma's hands. “Come on, Wilma, speak to me. Tell me what is wrong.”
Her friend's big brown eyes focused on her but she got the impression she wasn’t seeing her but something else. It sent a shiver down her spine. “Talk to me, please. Don’t tell anyone but you are scaring me.”
That last comment generated half a smile before Wilma returned to staring at a spot somewhere above Mrs. Grey's head.
“Wilma, can't you tell me? You know I would never hold anything against you. It doesn’t matter what it is.”
“I have a daughter. Or at least I had,” Wilma whispered, a lone tear making its way down her cheek. “I thought I saw her the other day, walking toward the school house, but it couldn’t be her. She was too young for a start. Just something about the way she walked reminded me of my Solace.”
“Your daughter? Here in Clover Springs?” Mrs. Grey tried to hide her shock. Wilma had never mentioned a child before.
“Not my daughter. Solace is dead. It's all my fault.”
Wilma started sobbing. Not genteel ladylike sobs but heart rendering sobs that threatened to tear her body apart. Mrs. Grey lost hold of her hand and put her arms around her pulling her close. “Cry, Wilma, let the hurt out. Then you can tell me all about Solace.”
Wilma cried for ages but Mrs. Grey didn’t say a word as she knew her friend had to let her feelings go. She had spent far too long locking them inside. With a last heaving sigh, she pushed Mrs. Grey gently away. Mrs. Grey gave her a hanky.
“Tell me about Solace. When did you last see her?”
“Eighteen sixty-four. The master of the house was away fighting. The Union Army came. They were supposed to be our saviors but they didn't act like it. The soldiers, they was bored. They came to the slaves’ quarters and started whipping some of the field hands. Not ’cause they did anything but just ’cause they had nothin' better to do. I begged Solace to hide but she never could stand by when there was any form of injustice. She didn't listen to me. She grabbed one of the whips and struck the leader of the group. Hard. I grabbed her and tole her to run. I took the whip and started fighting those soldiers back. A few of the other slaves turned on them too. She and Andrew, her best friend, they both took off and ran for all they was worth. I ain’t never seen them again.”
“Wilma, you didn't kill her. You gave her her freedom. It sounds like those white boys were only out for mischief anyway.”
Wilma fell quiet. She went back to staring at the wall again.
“Wilma, what happened next?”
“The soldiers’ leader, he was a captain, he came when they started firing their guns. He wanted to know what was wrong. The soldiers told him a pack of lies about how we was making trouble and they were just tryin' to teach us a lesson. He didn't believe them though. At least he didn't seem to. He tole me I had to go with him to the master’s house. I went. I didn't wait behind for my little girl to be found.”
“Wilma, you didn’t have a choice. The soldiers would have forced you to obey the captain.”
“Maybe, but we will never knows that. Anyway, he take me up to the big house. I shouldn’t have been in the slaves’ quarters anyway. House slaves weren’t supposed to go down there without permission but something tole me my girl needed me. Anyway, he made me go upstairs and get dressed into one of the mistress’ gowns. I was shakin’ so bad as we was never allowed to touch her dresses. Only her maid was allowed to do that. Then he insisted I sit down and eat a meal with him. It was horrible. He was pretending he was the master and I the mistress. He said he could just imagine the plantation owner’s grief knowing we was using his best service and eating at his table with a slave dressed in his wife’s clothes.
“What happened then?” Mrs. Grey asked quietly.
“He gave me a choice. Well, he tole me it was a choice. He said if I came willingly with him, he would order his men not to look for the escaped slaves. If I didn't go, he would kill one slave for every minute the slaves were missing.”
Mrs. Grey waited for Wilma to speak.
“I guess you don't understand what it was like. I had to go. I couldn’t let them kill my people.”
“Of course you had to go, Wilma. Did he mean to give you your freedom?”
“Freedom? What white man ever really wanted to free a slave?” Wilma sneered. It was so unlike her, Mrs. Grey was shocked.
“My David did. He worked with the Underground Railway. He saved many slaves who ran to Canada.”
“How did you know? Did he tole you? He could have just been saying stuff.”
“I helped him,” Mrs. Grey whispered.
Distrust and fear caused Wilma's eyes to open wider. She went to take her hand away but Mrs. Grey held onto it tightly.
“Wilma, my father owned a plantation just like the one you lived on. He had lots of slaves. I used to teach them how to read and write. My father was a decent owner.”
“Ain't no such thing.”
“Well no, not from your perspective but in terms of what other plantation owners did, he was a good master. He gave his people plenty of food and shelter.”
“Did he give them their freedom?”
Mrs. Grey shook her head.
“Did he keep families together?”
“No, Wilma, he didn't. That’s why I helped David.”
“You helped your father's slaves to escape? Why you done that?”
“I believed it was wrong to keep people enslaved like animals. I believed then and believe today all people are equal. The color of your skin doesn’t make you who you are.”
“But you still lived on the plantation, or did you run away with your friend?”
“No, I stayed and it is something I w
ill regret as long as I live. If I had ran, I could have married David years earlier than I did. We might have had a family, and we would have had more time together.”
“I can't believe you never tole me you was a plantation owner.”
“I was never that, Wilma.”
“I tole you my story and the whole time you was laughing at me. What did you think of me? I guess I am just a stupid black ne—”
“Don’t you dare ever use that word to describe anyone let along yourself. Now you can lie on that bed feeling sorry for yourself or you can get your big backside out of it. You tell me you lost your daughter. What have you done about finding her?”
Wilma turned to stare at the wall.
“You haven’t tried to find her, not after all these years? Why?”
“I left without knowing whether she was alive or dead. What if she came back to find me and I wasn’t there? I should have stayed.”
“Wilma, you couldn’t stay, you would have been killed just like the rest of the slaves. By going, you potentially saved her life, but you definitely saved the lives of the rest of the slaves on the plantation. If they survived the war, they would have been freed.”
Wilma didn’t respond.
“Did you ever try to get back to the plantation to check?”
“I wasn’t able to leave.”
“But you weren’t his slave.”
“Not by law but he tole me he’d kill me. He’d track me down and nobody would care as I was only an ole…”
“Oh, Wilma, what horrors you have been through. And yet you always are there to help someone else.”
“I used to pretend that if I helped people maybe someone would help my little girl. But it’s stupid, ain’t it? We just got to look at Rosa and John to see nobody wants those that don’t fit in.”
“Solace was part white?”
Wilma nodded.
“Maybe she did survive. She might be living somewhere with her own family.”
“I was tole she was dead.”
“By who?”
“Laura's husband. He said he'd tracked her down but she died of disease. A bad one.”
Eleanor Page 7
