by Ginny Dye
A fluffy biscuit had been cut in half, slathered with butter, and topped with a thick strawberry sauce. The melting butter streamed down into a yellow pool already being soaked up by the hot biscuit. The strawberries were sliding down to join it, mingling the rich flavors. The aroma filled the room.
“Miles picked these strawberries earlier today,” May said with satisfaction. “I was going to give them to you cold, but then decided to make a sauce.”
Jeremy took a big bite and rolled his eyes. “It’s like a gift from heaven,” he said enthusiastically.
“Great!” Marietta said with a mock scowl. “How do you expect me to keep him happy after we’re married, May? I am a great teacher, but I’m a lousy cook!”
“I’ll suffer through it,” Jeremy teased, his eyes bright with love. “It also helps that my father made me learn how to cook when I was growing up. It was either that, or starve. He was a terrible cook! I celebrated on the nights his parishioners brought over food, but the rest of the time I was the source of our meals. If your cooking is too terrible, I’ll be able to step in.”
Laughter rolled as the dessert quickly disappeared.
“I have news,” Matthew announced. Silence fell on the table as everyone turned to him. He paused, enjoying the moment of anticipation. He could hardly wait to get here and tell everyone. “I heard from a publisher in New York City today. They want to publish Glimmers of Change when I have it written.”
“That’s wonderful!” Abby cried.
Everyone else quickly added their congratulations.
“What did you send to convince them?” Marietta asked.
Matthew smiled. “I told the story of a little girl who watched as both of her parents were murdered, and is now being raised by a black couple who loves her like their own.”
“Felicia,” Abby murmured.
“Yes. It is a compelling story of how disaster can be turned around by people who care and who choose to do the right thing.” Matthew paused. “I evidently convinced them I could fill a book with many more stories. They agree with me that all the negative things happening in our country need to be balanced with some of the good things.” He grinned. “It will be a joy to write.”
“And to read,” Marietta said warmly. “It will be a gift to so many people.”
“I’m also going to continue working for the Philadelphia Enquirer,” Matthew revealed. He understood the silence that fell. Everyone present had seen his struggle when he returned from the riot in Louisiana. “New Orleans was terrible,” he said, “but being on the plantation for the last three weeks has been so good for me.”
“Not to mention Janie agreeing to be your wife,” Jeremy said slyly.
“That too,” Matthew agreed happily. He was counting the minutes until he was with her again. He looked around the table, so thankful for the people who surrounded him. “The riot in New Orleans is something I will never forget, but hiding from what is going on in our country is not the answer. I am going to put most of my focus on telling the good things, but I have to balance it with the bad if I truly want to make a difference. I have to stay in the thick of things.” He glanced at Abby apologetically. He knew how much she worried about him.
Abby reached out and covered her hand with his. “Of course you do,” she said. “You have reached your limit before, Matthew, but your determination to tell the truth has always pulled you back. I didn’t expect it would be any different this time.”
Matthew smiled ruefully. “Sometimes I forget how well you know me, or how long you have known me.”
Abby squeezed his hand tightly. “I wish to God none of us would ever have to experience things like what you went through in New Orleans, but I’m afraid this is just the beginning.”
Matthew gazed at her, trying to read her expression. Thomas had told him he was concerned about the growing tension in his wife. He didn’t see any of that now.
Abby smiled, seeming to read his thoughts. “It would be so nice if we could all hide away from the hatred and bigotry, but I know that’s not possible.” She took a deep breath. “I’m done being afraid.” She locked eyes with May, who had come in to clear the table. “May reminded me that I can’t walk around what is happening in our country. I can only walk through it. We all have to shift with the winds.” Her gaze swept the table. “That’s all any of us can do.”
A somber silence fell on the table.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I guess this is a good time to talk about the Black Militia we’re forming.”
“Things are getting worse?” Thomas asked.
Miles, who had been gone for most of the day, walked into the dining room just in time to hear Marcus’ announcement. “I’m sorry to be getting back so late, Mr. Cromwell,” he said.
Thomas nodded. “Tell us what you found out.”
Abby looked at her husband sharply. She had known Miles was gone all day. She didn’t realize until now that Thomas had sent him on a mission.
Miles exchanged a long look with Marcus and then settled in at the table. He accepted the cup of coffee May handed him with a grateful smile, but waved off the food. “I’ll eat later,” he said. “I’ve been through most of the black quarter today,” he announced. “In the last month, fifty-two homes have been burned. At least one hundred men have been beaten, and at least forty women have been raped.”
Abby gasped and covered her mouth.
Miles glanced at her. “I’m real sorry, Miss Abby…”
Abby shook her head. “We have to know the truth,” she managed.
Miles nodded gravely. “It’s gonna get worse,” he said. “The vigilante groups are growing. Not just here in Richmond, but everywhere. They’s determined to stop black folks from having the rights President Lincoln gave us.”
“That’s why we’re forming the militia groups,” Marcus growled angrily. “We’re not going to sit back and let it happen anymore. There are a lot of black men here who fought for the Union. We have weapons.” His eyes narrowed. “We know how to use them. We’re going to make folks think twice before they come down to hurt us.”
Abby bit back a protest. She hated the thought of more violence, but she also knew things would only get worse for the blacks if they did nothing. The Richmond government was either powerless to stop what was happening, or they simply didn’t care. It made her sick to realize it was probably the latter of the two.
Chapter Six
Abby gazed at Matthew. “Please tell me something is going to happen in Congress to change the situation in the South.”
Matthew nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “President Johnson has virtually lost all power with Congress.”
“What about the National Union Convention that met earlier this month?” Thomas asked. “I was hoping you would be able to give us news of that.”
“I can.” It gave Matthew a deep sense of satisfaction to know that his series of articles after the riots in Memphis and New Orleans had played a part in changing the mood of the country. “The convention was called with the hope that President Johnson’s friends who are fond of his pro-South Reconstruction policies could rally support for him.”
“Please tell me it failed,” Jeremy pleaded.
“It failed,” Matthew assured him. “About seven thousand prominent politicians and activists attended the convention.” He glanced at Marcus, aware he wouldn’t have been privy to much national news before the end of the war. “The National Union Party was the name used by the Republican Party during the war. They wanted to stress the national character of the war and make it more than just a North-South thing. Unfortunately, it was also this thinking that resulted in President Johnson being our vice presidential nominee. Since he was from Tennessee, the hope was that more people would rally behind the ticket during the elections.”
“It worked,” Marcus commented.
“Yes,” Matthew agreed with a scowl, “but it also backfired when Johnson became president.” He took a deep breath as he pulled his thoughts tog
ether. “This latest convention was an attempt to maintain a coalition of Johnson supporters. They tried to bring together moderate and conservative Republicans, as well as defecting Democrats.”
“So they could push through Johnson’s Reconstruction policies,” Thomas observed.
“Yes.” Matthew gave a slight smile. “It was a dismal failure. Too much of the country has seen the results of President Johnson’s policies.”
“Because of your articles,” Marietta pointed out proudly.
Matthew nodded. “Yes, but my voice was just one of many.”
“But none as powerful as yours,” Abby insisted. “You were one of the few journalists in the thick of things who had the courage to tell the truth. Which is, of course, why you must continue doing so.”
Matthew squeezed her hand with gratitude.
“What happens now?” Marcus asked. “Is there any hope things will change for black folks down here?”
Matthew grimaced. “I believe so, but I don’t believe the answer will come as quickly as we all want it, or need it, to. I am confident President Johnson is going to lose all power, but it won’t be until after the November election. And then it is going to take time for the Congress to enact change.”
A solemn silence fell on the table.
Marcus was the first to break it. “So we’ll just have to take care of things ourselves,” he said grimly.
Matthew met his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
Jeremy’s gut was churning as he walked Marietta home through the dark neighborhoods. He was grateful for the glimmering light of the street lanterns. It simply wasn’t safe to travel in total darkness in Richmond anymore. He missed the easy days of his youth when he would spend hours roaming the streets of the city, never once feeling any danger. He bit back a sigh as he realized anew that those days were long gone. That realization only made his gut churn harder.
The rain had moved on to the mountains, but a refreshing breeze still made the limbs of the oak and maple trees create a dance of shadows on the road. He wasn’t ready for fall yet, but he was grateful for a break in the heat. It would probably return tomorrow, with worse humidity than before, but he was going to enjoy the respite. He tucked Marietta’s arm more securely through his and smiled down at her.
“You’re just going to smile at me?” Marietta asked.
Jeremy gazed down into her vibrant blue eyes, admiring the sheen of her red hair in the glow from the street lanterns. “You’d rather I not smile?” he teased.
Marietta didn’t return his smile. “I’d rather you tell me what is really going on inside of you.”
Jeremy frowned as he searched for words. He was certain he had hidden the true state of his emotions. Evidently he had not succeeded.
Marietta stopped and pulled him to face her. “I know you constantly want to protect me. I realize it may take some time for you to understand I am not a fragile southern belle who longs for a man to take care of her, but I thought we had come further than this, Jeremy.” Her expression was one of frustrated exasperation.
Jeremy felt a surge of remorse, as well as regret that she had sensed his turmoil, but he still didn’t know what to say. He glanced away as a carriage rattled down the street. He watched it until it was out of sight before turning back to her.
Marietta stamped her foot as her eyes flashed. “Out with it, Jeremy! We are getting married in less than four months. I will not have a husband who treats me like a delicate doll.”
Jeremy sucked in his breath, wishing she wasn’t so adorable when she was angry. He knew what he needed to do, but she wasn’t making it any easier. “Perhaps you should reconsider your decision,” he said gravely, every part of him aching as he forced out the words.
Marietta stared at him. “What?”
“Are you sure you want to be my wife, Marietta?” What he really meant to say was that they were making a mistake getting married, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words. Feeling a surge of self-contempt for his cowardice, he said, “You heard Miles and Marcus. Things are getting worse. We both know my being mulatto—especially being one who looks completely white—makes me even more of a target. The vigilantes see me as a bigger threat.” His eyes darkened with memories of the beating he had suffered that spring. The scars had faded, but the images had not left his mind. “Women are being attacked too,” he continued, as he tried unsuccessfully to control the desperation he felt. “Your being with me, combined with the fact that you’re a northern teacher, is only going to make you more of a target,” he finished hoarsely.
“We’re still talking about this?” Marietta asked quietly.
Jeremy took a breath, trying to read her expression. He could see danger flashing behind the calm demeanor, but he had to make her understand. “It’s getting worse,” he repeated. “I have let my love for you become more important than your safety…”
“And my love for you?” Marietta broke in. “Is that not to be considered?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “Do you love me so little that you would simply cast me aside when it’s not convenient?”
Jeremy flushed and opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off.
“Clearly you have decided that you no longer see me as your equal,” she said angrily.
“That’s not true!” Jeremy exclaimed. “You are definitely my equal, but…”
“But nothing,” Marietta said sternly. “I either am, or I am not. There is no middle ground. Have you been lying to me all this time?” she pressed.
Jeremy thought his insides would split open when the anger in her beautiful eyes was replaced by pain. “I’ve never lied to you,” he said.
Just as quickly as the pain had flashed in Marietta’s eyes, it disappeared, and was replaced by triumph. “Exactly.”
Jeremy was lost. “Excuse me?”
Marietta stepped forward. Heedless of whoever might be peering from the windows of the surrounding homes, she planted a warm kiss on his lips. “You’re being ridiculous, Jeremy. I knew the risks when I fell in love with you. I knew the risks when I agreed to marry you. I have certainly not forgotten the risks now that things are becoming more dangerous.” She paused. “I think of them every day,” she admitted.
“Then you know…”
Marietta put a hand on his lips to stop him from talking. “What I know is that I love you more today than when I fell in love with you. I know that I love you more today than I did when I agreed to marry you.” She stepped back and straightened her shoulders. “I also know that one or more of us may be injured or killed in the battle that is raging through America,” she said, her eyes gazing into his.
Jeremy’s gut clenched with pain.
“Not loving each other will not change that,” Marietta continued. “Refusing to get married will not change that. The choices we have made will have us both on the front lines for as long as there is a battle to be fought.” She took a deep breath. “The only way we will both get through the time ahead is to rely on each other. We must trust the love we share. Don’t you see?” she pleaded. “You can’t protect me, Jeremy, any more than I can protect you. Our only choice is to love each other with every fiber of our being. It is too late to turn back the clock.”
Jeremy stared into her eyes. He wanted to deny his inability to protect her, but he also knew she was speaking the truth.
Marietta’s voice grew gentler. “I love you, Jeremy Anthony. You have made a choice to live as a mulatto because you have also made a choice to fight for what is right. You are fighting for Rose and Moses. You are fighting for your nieces and nephew. You are fighting for Marcus, and Miles, and Spencer…” She gripped his hand tightly. “I have made the same choice. I could run away to the North and teach school where I would be safe. I choose not to. I might be able to convince you to come north with me to escape the danger. I choose not to try. This is my battle, too.” She took another fortifying breath. “Our only protection is our love,” she said tenderly.
Jeremy ga
zed at the courageous light burning in her eyes for a long moment, and then crushed her to his chest. As he held her tight, he could feel their hearts beating against each other. He could no more imagine life without Marietta than he could imagine breathing under water. They had both made their choices—now they would both have to live with them.
Marietta pressed herself against him for a long moment. When she pushed back, the street lamp played across her face. “Can we officially be done with this conversation? Forever?”
Jeremy nodded, smiled, and pulled her back to him. “We are getting married in four months,” he said. “Until then we are going to love each other, worry about each other, and support each other in every way we can.” He paused. “I’m also going to hire someone to take you home when you’re done at the school. Spencer will be there every chance he can, but he has already recommended someone else that he trusts completely. I will continue to drive you to school each morning.” He held his breath, not at all sure of her reaction, but knowing this was not something he was willing to compromise on.
Marietta laughed, her eyes glowing with love. “And I’m smart enough not to argue with you about that. Just because I’m determined to stay and make a difference does not mean I will also choose to be foolish. Having someone to accompany me will be most welcome, sir.”
Jeremy sighed with relief. He had expected her to fight him on his plan. Once again he recognized that Marietta was as smart as she was beautiful. “Thank you,” he murmured. His heart swelled with love as he caressed her cheek. “I never want to lose you.”
Marietta sighed with contentment, snuggling closer. “And I never want to lose you, my darling.” She tilted her face up. “Should we scandalize the neighbors a little more?”
Jeremy grinned, lowered his head, and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss. He didn’t care who was watching, or what they would think. He was going to make the most of every moment because he never knew when the joy he felt might be snatched away.
