by Ginny Dye
A noise on the trail alerted her that Rose had finally caught up. Carrie had no doubt that Rose knew where she was headed, but had been content to canter along, enjoying the fall air and magnificent colors. Something about that suddenly irritated her. “Don’t you ever need to just let go?” Carrie demanded.
Rose cocked her head, smiled, and slid from her saddle. She said nothing while she untacked Maple, certain the mare would not leave without Granite. Finally, she turned to Carrie. “Yes, but not the way you do. It’s a good thing, because if Maple suddenly took off at that speed, I would be nothing but a crumpled body in the road.”
Carrie smiled slightly, but needed an answer to her question. “What do you do?” she demanded.
“How do I let go?” Rose swung around to observe the glistening waters of the river reflecting the blue of a sky unmarred by clouds. The wind had died, leaving the water a perfect glassy mirror that made the sky and water blend seamlessly. “I find quiet.” Her face reflected her own troubled thoughts. “That is easy on the plantation, but it is harder to find quiet in Oberlin. I miss the wide-open spaces and the utter silence that grips the plantation every night. When my world turns topsy-turvy, I find silence so that I can hear my own thoughts and feel my heart.”
Carrie considered her words. “Yes, but don’t you sometimes need to blast out your feelings and do something wild?”
Rose met her eyes hesitatingly, before choosing to speak the truth. “And what good would it have done me?” she asked. “I was a slave. I couldn’t race off on a horse, or go do something crazy. I couldn’t even leave my room in the Big House once I started living there. I used to sit by the window and stare up at the sky, dreaming I was actually sitting beneath it, not forced to stare out through a small pane of glass. When I was back in the slave quarters on the weekends with Mama, I would sneak out at night so I could absorb the silence. Mama never stopped me.”
“She knew you needed it,” Carrie said softly. She had come to understand so much of what life had been like for Rose as her slave, but she knew she would never have a full comprehension. Rose was right; she had never had the option to go wild, so she had found solace where she could. “I’m sorry,” Carrie murmured. It was one more thing to apologize for to the woman who had lost so much because of her family. She knew all had been forgiven, but that didn’t change the consequences.
Rose shrugged, her eyes once again peaceful. “I love my life now.” Her face became thoughtful. “Mama used to tell me that the present changes the past. I didn’t understand what she meant, but I think I do now.”
Carrie cocked her head, pondering the words. “What did she mean?”
“I think the time comes when you look back, but you don’t find what you left behind.”
Carrie thought about Rose’s words as she stepped closer to the river, admiring the glowing stones shimmering beneath the clear water. “You mean, that as you change, you change how you see the past?”
Rose nodded. “That seems to be the way it works for me. What was so terrible at the time, is a reminder of how wonderful my life is now. I hated being a slave, but I can’t deny it makes me more grateful for my life right this moment. The present has changed the past for me.”
Carrie let the silence of the clearing wrap a blanket of peace around both of them. “That makes perfect sense. You know, Chooli’s family taught me that I don’t have to let my past define my future. I try to remember that every day.” She sat down on the large rock that had been her thinking place for more than twenty years, and patted it to invite Rose to join her. Once Rose had settled, Carrie was content to stare into the depths of the river, doing nothing to tame her thoughts or emotions. She knew the river could handle whatever was there.
Rose was the first to break the silence. “When are you leaving?”
Carrie smiled, not even bothering to ask how Rose knew what she hadn’t known herself until a short time ago. “Early January.”
Rose eyed her. “Philadelphia?” When Carrie nodded, her look grew skeptical. “You’re going to Philadelphia in January?”
Carrie grimaced. “I can’t think of a worse time to be there, but I have a promise to keep to Biddy. Faith sent me a letter last week telling me how much need there is for a clinic in Moyamensing.” If she were honest, her decision had been made the instant she received the letter, but she hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it when she’d been home for only two days. The image of Biddy’s vibrant face and glowing blue eyes appeared in her mind. “I would do anything for Biddy,” she added softly. “And there is so much need for a homeopathic clinic in Moyamensing.”
Rose’s lips twitched. “It helps a little to know you’ll be almost as cold as Moses and I will be this winter,” she teased.
Carrie stuck out her tongue and turned away to gaze at the water, glad a brisk wind had risen to create dancing whitecaps. She appreciated the calm stillness, but the choppy water reflected her feelings more accurately.
“And after that?” Rose asked.
Carrie barked a sharp laugh. “Good grief, woman. I can hardly look past today. It’s a huge stretch to decide to go to Philadelphia. I’m simply not capable of thinking further than that.” She sobered. “I remember something your mama told me one time.” She paused, remembering the brilliant shine in Old Sarah’s eyes that always meant whatever she was going to say was very important. “She told me when the present be too much, dat ya gots to look to de future. Dat I gots to make my own future.”
Rose smiled, but said nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Carrie asked after a long silence told her Rose was struggling with her own feelings.
“I don’t know that anything is wrong,” Rose said thoughtfully. “I just suddenly have a lot of questions swirling around. Moses and I are making our future, but I still have so many questions. I thought once I started college that the path would suddenly become clear…”
“But it’s not.”
“It’s not.” Rose said flatly, only her eyes belying the emotion beneath her words.
“I suppose we both just have to keep walking,” Carrie replied. “Remember what we talked about on New Year’s Day? That we have to keep walking into the unknown?” Carrie shook her head impatiently. It was obvious that Moses’ unspoken discontent was worrying Rose more than she was saying. “Do you suppose all of life will be unknown? Will we ever know?”
“I have no idea,” Rose answered, “but it doesn’t seem too much to ask that the time might come when we have a clue about what is coming.”
“Evidently it is too much to ask,” Carrie said wryly. “All I have decided at this point is that I’m going to Philadelphia.” She forced a smile. “But at least I get to enjoy the plantation for more than two months before I leave again. I’ve already learned how much living can be done in that amount of time, and I aim to make the most of it while I’m here.” Her eyes rested on Granite, determined to ride her Thoroughbred every day she was home.
*****
Moses settled back into the rocker on the porch, grateful for the crisp breeze that cooled his aching muscles. Months of study had not reduced his strength, but hours of chopping wood were certainly harder than when he had left the plantation ten months earlier. Not that he cared about aching muscles; he had loved every minute of the hard labor. The sweat running down his body, the easy camaraderie with his men—most of whom had served under him during the war—and the satisfaction of a day’s work, made it all worth it.
Annie stuck her head out the door. “You ready for some more coffee and biscuits?”
Moses grinned at his mother. “Always.” It did his heart good to know his mama was here on the plantation, but his face hardened when he considered the fact there was no place in the South truly safe for blacks right now, although Cromwell Plantation was safer than most. He had refused to let anyone lower their guard during the months since the last attack. It had been almost a year, but reports of other atrocities around the South reminded him on a daily basis that it could easily happen
again. Caution could mean the difference between life and death for many of them.
“Hey, brother! You’re not supposed to sit around with a frown on your face. I thought you were happy to be here.”
Moses pushed away his thoughts as Jeremy strode onto the porch, a wide smile on his face. If possible, he looked more tired than Moses was. His wide smile did nothing to conceal his weariness. “Hours in a factory doesn’t prepare you for manual labor?” Moses teased.
Jeremy groaned as he settled into the chair next to him. “That would be an accurate assessment,” he said ruefully. “They were still at it when I left. I couldn’t have lifted that ax one more time if my life depended on it. Besides, they already have a mountain of firewood.”
“They’ll have several mountains before they’re done,” Moses replied. “There are more homes to keep warm now, and we have no idea how bad the weather will be.”
Annie snorted as she carried a tray of coffee and biscuits out to the porch. “You been in that fancy college too long if you already not be paying attention to the signs God gives us.” She put the tray down on the table, planted her fists on her ample hips, and stared down at the two men. “This winter gonna be plenty hard. Not as hard as the last two, but they’s gonna be plenty of cold weather. All the signs be saying that.”
Moses grinned. “Miles has been teaching you.”
“Of course he has,” Annie responded. “That husband of mine done know more about God’s creation than any man I ever met.” Her dark eyes glowed with pride.
Moses could not have been happier that his mama had found love again. She had suffered more hardship, and more loss, than anyone should ever face. To see the light of joy and love in her eyes was all he needed to make him feel content. Except that he wasn’t…
Jeremy remained quiet until Annie disappeared into the house again, releasing the aromas of a delicious dinner, before the door slammed closed behind her. “What’s wrong?” he asked bluntly.
Moses sighed. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding his growing discontent, but he must have been too tired to conceal it from his very perceptive brother-in-law. Still, he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. What good would it do?
Jeremy pushed back a thatch of thick, blond hair and let his blue eyes bore into Moses’. “You know I’m going to make you talk. You can make it hard on yourself, or easier. Your choice.”
Moses met Jeremy’s eyes for a brief moment before he turned to look over the pastures full of colts and fillies that proclaimed the success of Cromwell Stables. He felt the familiar twinge that Robert was not here to see the fruit of what he created, but Moses pushed it firmly from his mind. He knew he would always grieve his friend, but he had also learned that life kept rolling. “I miss it.”
Jeremy watched him, his eyes narrowed and probing. “You don’t want to be in college.”
Moses sighed again. “What difference does it make?” He shook his head, trying to dispel the heavy feeling that had settled on him at the end of the work day. He would climb on a train tomorrow and go back to college, whether he wanted to or not. He would work toward becoming a lawyer, though he was more certain with every passing day that he had no passion for it. He supposed he believed he could help his people if he was a lawyer, but it certainly was not anything he loved.
“Does Rose know how you feel?”
Moses frowned. “I hope not,” he said sharply. “And you’re not to say a word to your sister.”
Jeremy raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not my place,” he assured him. “But do you really think she doesn’t know?”
Moses shrugged his massive shoulders. “What she knows is that I want her to fulfill her dream of a college degree. And I want Felicia to have the chance for the same. Whatever I want is simply going to have to wait.” He pushed aside his vision of the lush, fertile soil of the land just cleared—the land that would certainly produce an abundant tobacco crop next season. It had hurt to not be part of the clearing; it would hurt even more to not watch the seedlings go in, to not watch them grow toward the sky.
Jeremy considered his response. “Wait for how long?”
Moses was used to Jeremy’s blunt manner, but he simply didn’t have any answers. “I don’t know,” he admitted, also admitting to himself that his inability to answer questions was the biggest source of his discontent. How long would it take Felicia to finish school? What if Rose got a job in a city? His mind was committed to enabling her to follow her dream because the country needed her as a teacher, but his heart was getting heavier with the idea of not coming home to the plantation. He stood abruptly and walked to the edge of the porch. “I don’t have any answers,” he growled as he looked out. “All I know is that I miss this place every minute I’m away.” He allowed the fullness of his feelings to roll through him before he shook his head and turned back to Jeremy. “I’m not meant to have the answers right now or I would have them. My job is to simply live the day in front of me. I don’t always have to like it in order to do it.” He knew he was speaking the truth.
Jeremy looked at him thoughtfully. “I suppose that is true.” He laid his head back against the rocker with a tired sigh. “My sister is a lucky woman.”
“Thank you.” Moses was suddenly aware Jeremy was holding back his own feelings. Now that he had released some of his own frustration, he could see the tension roiling in Jeremy’s eyes. He settled back down in his rocker and reached for his coffee. “You’re concerned about the baby.”
“Right now, I just want Marietta to give birth so she can quit being miserable,” Jeremy answered. “Her back hurts all the time now.”
“Yep,” Moses responded. “And you’re concerned about the baby.” For all of Jeremy’s bluntness in asking questions, Rose’s twin didn’t like to answer them anymore than Moses did.
Jeremy tightened his lips and then repeated what Moses had said. “I’m not meant to have the answers right now, or I would have them.”
Moses decided to cut to the chase. “What are you going to do?”
Jeremy’s shoulders sagged as he met Moses’ eyes, no longer able to avoid the question now that it had been stated so succinctly. “If my child is born black?” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Moses, watching him carefully, saw the flicker in his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
Jeremy scowled as he took a long drink of his coffee and visibly forced himself to relax.
A long silence stretched out on the porch as the sun began to slip toward the horizon, making the fall foliage shimmer with a golden glow. Moses was content to wait, glad the focus was off him for a while, but concerned about the trapped look that had gleamed in Jeremy’s eyes.
Jeremy finally began to speak. “If our baby is born black, I will not subject Marietta and my baby to life here in the South,” he said slowly, forcing his words out in a heavy voice.
Moses cocked his head. “Has anyone been able to tell you the odds of that happening?”
Jeremy shrugged. “No. All I know is that my having a white father and black mother means there is a chance, even though Marietta is white.”
“At least you know it can happen,” Moses observed. “Can you imagine what it would have been like if you had gotten married and had a black child, not knowing the truth of your past?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Jeremy admitted. “I can only imagine the confusion I would have felt.” He grimaced. “It’s impossible to imagine what my wife would have felt. As hard as all this is, I’m grateful I know the truth. I’m certain many mulattos in this country have no idea of their heritage.”
“Although, most of them don’t come out looking completely white,” Moses said blandly. “You never had to worry about a stigma until you found out about Rose.”
“That’s true,” Jeremy replied. “I refuse to hide the fact that she is my twin, but I don’t broadcast it either. I couldn’t possibly be more proud of her, but living as a white man has at least made it easier to help t
he black community in the city.”
Moses nodded. Jeremy had done so much to aid the black equality effort in Richmond. He never hesitated to use his influence as a profitable business manager, and Marietta’s position as a teacher in the black schools had made her beloved. “The black community accepts you, Jeremy, and the whites think you’re a deluded Good Samaritan. They’re irritated, but not threatened the way they would be if they knew the truth about your heritage.”
Anger and frustration flared in Jeremy’s eyes. “It’s all so stupid! I hate that I even have to consider where I will raise my child.”
“There are a lot of mulattos in the South,” Moses reminded him. “Most of the blacks being elected into politics right now are actually mulatto.”
“I know. But ever since Reconstruction started we’ve been lumped together with those who are completely black,” Jeremy acknowledged. “It wouldn’t bother me, except that now we are seen as more of a threat in the competition for jobs, land, and political power, so there is more of an effort to put us in our place.”
“An increasing number of mulattos are coming down from the North to help with Reconstruction,” Moses added, hoping to alleviate his frustration.
“That’s true, but they are adults,” Jeremy shot back. “They are making choices, knowing how they will be treated, and knowing the danger they face. They are not helpless children,” he said grimly. “I know what any mulatto child will have to deal with here in the South. It’s a situation that gets worse every day.” His scowl deepened. “I’ve read several articles recently that say the South lost the war because God was punishing them for interbreeding between whites and blacks.”
“That’s absurd,” Moses said with a snort.
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter because people believe it. It’s only going to make life that much harder for mulatto children.” Jeremy shook his head heavily. “Things are changing, but it’s going to take a long time.”
“And you believe things will be better in the North?”
