Looking To The Future (#11 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series)

by Ginny Dye

  Ralph looked up when he was ushered in. “Has it all been taken care of?” he asked pleasantly.

  Sherman nodded, searching the older man’s face for a hint of what was about to happen. His trip out to Blackwell’s Island had been quite stressful. Actually walking into the asylum had been shocking. The screams and moans were something he might never forget. Delivering the letter to Dr. Tillerson had been distressing, as well. The disdain on the doctor’s face as he read the letter had been unmistakable.

  “You’re quite sure you want Mrs. Archer to be released?” Dr. Tillerson had snapped.

  “Yes,” Sherman had replied. It had been a lie, but securing his career was worth any price.

  Sherman settled down into the chair Ralph indicated. If Alice had but complied with his wishes, none of this would have happened, and yet, he was ready to put it behind him. Filing the divorce papers had actually been quite satisfying. Losing the ten thousand dollars in his bank account was distressing, but his future with the Pennsylvania Railroad Company would replace it, and multiply it many times. He was relieved to be rid of Alice. If he ever married again, it would be to someone more malleable, who was eager to let him lead her. Every man had a right to expect that of his wife.

  “Alice is freed?” Ralph pressed.

  Sherman nodded.

  “The divorce papers have been filed?”

  “Yes,” Sherman replied. He was quite surprised at how quickly and smoothly it had gone, until one of the secretaries revealed Mr. Cook had been there earlier to meet with the judge.

  “And the money transfer has been handled?”

  Sherman nodded again. “The bank president had the papers ready. The money has been transferred, and my name has been removed from my ex-wife’s account.” He was careful to hide his bitterness and anger behind a neutral tone of voice.

  Ralph nodded. “Good.”

  Sherman leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad we can put this all behind us,” he said smoothly. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is create more prosperity for the Pennsylvania Railroad. I’m eager to get back to work.” He crossed his legs and placed his folded hands on his knee. “What can I do first?”

  Ralph stood, towering over him from behind his desk. “Your office has been cleared out,” he said. “I’m giving you twenty minutes to get out of this building. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  Sherman’s jaw dropped as he uncrossed his legs, his heart racing. “What?” he stammered. “What… what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you’re done here,” Ralph snapped.

  “You told me I would still have a job when I returned,” Sherman protested, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

  “And you did,” Ralph said shortly. “I did not, however, indicate how long you would have it. You are now fired. I never want you to darken the doors of this building again.”

  Sherman continued to stare at him. “You’re firing me?”

  Ralph stared at him. “You’re extremely lucky that is all I’m doing,” he snapped. “This company means a lot to me. I would never willingly have someone working here that could do the despicable thing you have done to your wife. If I could have you arrested, I would do it with great satisfaction. Having the law behind you does not make it right.” His eyes cut into Sherman. “If I were you, I would look for another job far from New York City. I assure you I will do everything within my power to make sure you never secure another position here.”

  Ralph’s eyes narrowed. “And, if you ever go close to Alice again, my investigator will alert me. No matter where you go from here, I’ll make sure you never secure another position of any importance.” His voice deepened. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Sherman stood, slowly realizing everything he had worked so hard for had just crumbled beneath him into a pile of rubble. “My father…” It was his one last desperate attempt to regain control of his future.

  “I have spoken with your father,” Ralph assured him. “It broke my heart to tell my friend that he has such a degenerate for a son, but once I explained the situation to him, he agreed I could have taken no other course of action.” He waved his hand. “Get out of my office. I have a company to run, and you are no longer part of it.”

  His voice boomed through the room. “You are done here, Sherman Archer!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Franklin handed the letter to Simon, and then stared off into the fields full of men plowing and working the soil for the seedlings soon to be planted. The fields, carefully fertilized with marl at the end of the season, and then planted in clover for the winter, were evidence of the results of good care. Felicia had given him information about cover crops when they were on the plantation in October. He had been doubtful it would have much impact, but Moses had encouraged him to try it, if only to make Felicia feel valued. Once again, the young girl had been right.

  Franklin bent down to lift a handful of rich, dark dirt. The combination of marl and clover had greatly enriched the soil. He knew the tobacco crop would surpass last year’s harvest if the weather was cooperative.

  Simon put down the letter. “Moses and Rose are coming home to stay?”

  Franklin said nothing. The letter had made their decision clear. He remained silent as Simon stared off into the distance, already knowing what his friend was thinking.

  “They’re crazy,” Simon finally muttered.

  Franklin cocked his head. “Crazy?”

  “Crazy!” Simon repeated emphatically. “They’re safe up there in Oberlin. Why would they want to come back here?”

  Franklin felt a surge of concern as he watched the anxiety tighten Simon’s face. “Has something else happened at Blackwell?”

  “No,” Simon admitted, “but our workers have seen a lot of white men riding by the entrance to the plantation, just staring in. They seem to know my men are on guard, and have been since the attack. It’s like they are taunting us with the fact it can happen again at any time. It’s maddening because they know our enforced guard means there are less men in the fields,” he added with a growl. “If they can’t hurt us one way, they can hurt us another.”

  “Moses seems excited,” Franklin observed as he reached for the letter, folded it carefully, and shoved it back into his pocket. “I wonder, though,” he confessed, “if they are only coming back because Chooli and I are leaving in a few weeks.”

  “No,” Simon said. “If Moses believed they were supposed to stay up there in Oberlin, he would have worked something else out.”

  Franklin nodded, hoping he was right.

  “When are y’all leaving?” Simon asked.

  “The first week of April,” Franklin replied. “I’m glad to be leaving,” he said abruptly.

  Simon regarded him quietly for a moment. “As far as I can tell, this country doesn’t treat the Navajo any better than they treat black folk. Do you really think going to the reservation will make things better?”

  Franklin hesitated. He would be lying if he didn’t acknowledge he sometimes wondered the same thing. “I hope it will,” he replied. “I don’t guess I believe any place in the country is good for either blacks or Indians, but we’ve got to live somewhere,” he said ruefully. “I figure our odds will be better out there. The country allowed the Navajo to return to their homeland. After all those years at Bosque Redondo, I don’t see the Navajo doing anything to jeopardize it.”

  Simon nodded. “I saw Chooli before I came out to the fields to find you. She seems very happy to be going home.”

  Franklin smiled. “She can’t wait to see her family again.”

  “Ajei is growing so fast,” Simon continued. “She is a beautiful little girl.”

  Franklin’s smile was wider this time. “That little girl is the light of my life,” he said proudly. “Chooli spends all her time trying to keep up with her.”

  Simon chuckled. “She should be a handful on the wagon train.”

  Franklin’s smile disappeared.

  “What�
��s wrong?” Simon asked sharply.

  Franklin took a deep breath. “There won’t be a wagon train,” he said quietly, his insides clenching as he said it.

  Simon stiffened. “Why not?”

  Franklin tried to shrug casually, but he was sure he had failed. “Seems no one wants a nigger and an Injun on their train.”

  Simon sucked in his breath sharply. “I thought it was different out there?”

  “Maybe not that different,” Franklin said bitterly. “Besides, those folks on the wagon train aren’t Westerners yet. They’re just folks looking for a better life.” He paused. “I don’t suppose it matters if they are Northerners or Southerners. Prejudice ain’t just a Southern thing.” He shook his head. “Chooli promises me it will be different on the reservation.”

  “They will accept Chooli having a black husband?” Simon pressed.

  “She says they will because her grandfather and grandmother are so revered.” He hid his nervousness with a chuckle. “I didn’t have any trouble with them before, but it was a different situation since I was a soldier at Bosque Redondo. What I might have seen as acceptance could have been nothing more than stoic defeat.”

  “You’re a good man,” Simon said. “It might take some time, but they’ll accept you.”

  Franklin shrugged again. “I hope so, but regardless, we are leaving for New Mexico in a few weeks.”

  “How are you getting there?” Simon asked. “You said you can’t get on a wagon train.”

  Franklin sighed, trying to fight back his anxiety. “We didn’t have a wagon train when we got here,” he reminded his friend.

  “True, but you also didn’t have an eighteen-month-old,” Simon retorted.

  Franklin met his eyes, not denying he had the same concerns. “We’re going to have to do the best we can.”

  “You know you could stay here,” Simon said. “Even with Moses coming back, there is a place for you. I know he would want you to stay.”

  “I reckon that’s true,” Franklin agreed, “but I promised Chooli I was taking her home to her family.” His conviction hardened as he remembered the joy on her face when he had promised to take her back to the Navajo homeland. “We’re going back to Dinetah,” he said. “At least this time, we will be able to take the train to Independence, Missouri, and we will have enough money to survive.”

  “If you don’t get robbed,” Simon said darkly. He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of you riding horses out there.”

  “We’re not,” Franklin said. “We can’t get on a wagon train, but I’ve already got a wagon secured.”

  Simon looked skeptical. “Won’t you be like a sitting duck if you’re out there all by yourselves?” he said skeptically. “At least if you were on horseback, you would stand a better chance of escaping an attack.” He scowled. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Franklin felt a flare of anger, but it disappeared quickly as the truth raised its head. “No,” he admitted. “I’m doing what I believe is right, but I won’t say I know what I’m doing.” He gritted his teeth with frustration. “Chooli wants a life without prejudice and hatred, especially for Ajei. I can’t fault her for that.”

  “Nope,” Simon agreed. “I just hope you live long enough to find it.” He forced a smile. “I’m not trying to make things harder, but I’m worried.”

  Franklin eyed him, finally recognizing the expression in his friend’s eyes. He hadn’t seen it before because of his own worries. “You’d like to get out of here, too,” he stated.

  Simon hesitated, and then nodded. “I think Moses is crazy to come back to the South. I understand why you and Chooli want to leave, but I’m not convinced you’re going anywhere better.” He paused. “I’d like to take my family someplace safe, but I don’t know that any place like that exists.” He swung off his horse and walked over to scoop up a handful of rich soil. “I love farming, and I enjoy watching how Blackwell Plantation is growing. I’m making more money than I ever thought I would make, but I also lie awake most nights so I can listen for anyone coming after my family,” he said angrily. “I’m tired of it.”

  “I understand. I love New Mexico and the West, but my heart is here in the South. The last year and a half have proven that to me.” He gazed out over the fields. “I’m going to miss tobacco farming. I know I can grow crops on the reservation, but it’s not going to be the same. Still, I know we’ll be happy there.”

  “How?” Simon demanded.

  Franklin understood the anger flashing in his eyes. “Because I am going to choose to be, Simon.” He shook his head. “I reckon you’re right that there ain’t anywhere safe for a black man to live. We’re always going to have to watch over our shoulder to see what might be coming after us. But that doesn’t mean we can’t choose to be happy,” he said firmly. “No one can take away the right to feel how we want to feel, and to act how we want to act. Sure, I wish things weren’t so hard, and I’m going to do all I can to help change it, but I’m not going to wait until then to be happy.”

  “It isn’t that easy,” Simon growled.

  “I don’t remember saying anything about it being easy,” Franklin responded. “There hasn’t been much easy about either of our lives. We lived through slavery. Then we lived through a war. Now we’re living through vigilantes that want to kill us because we’re free.” He fixed his eyes on the horizon, smiling when a flock of geese migrating north filled the sky. “I keep remembering what Chooli’s family said when they finally got out of Bosque Redondo. They had decided they would not let their past define their future. I’ve thought about that all winter. I’ve decided I won’t let my past define my present, either.”

  Simon shook his head, but remained silent.

  “Why are you staying here?” Franklin demanded.

  Simon stared at him. “What?”

  “Why are you staying here?” he repeated. “I know you’ve made real good money the last couple years. You may not make as much money if you leave, but you’ve got enough to get started somewhere else. If you hate it here so much, why don’t you leave?”

  “It isn’t that easy,” Simon repeated.

  Franklin was the one to shake his head now. “I’ve known folks like you all my life,” he snapped. “I just didn’t figure you to be one of them.”

  Simon glared at him. “What are you talking about now?”

  Franklin met his eyes evenly. “What’s happened to you, Simon? You were always one to make things happen. Now you’re one of those that talk about wanting things to be different, but you ain’t doing nothing to make it happen. You just want to sit around and bellyache about it. When did you become one of those people?”

  Simon’s lips narrowed with anger for a moment, until his shoulders drooped and he looked away.

  Franklin waited, content to watch the geese as they flew out of sight in perfect formation. It was true he had spent all winter pondering what Chooli’s family had said when they were finally allowed to return home. He had decided there wasn’t anyone in the world who didn’t have a reason to want to give up on living. It was always a choice. Just talking about it with Simon had solidified his decision to go back to New Mexico. The journey would be hard, and it might take time for the Navajo to accept him, but he was taking control of his future. That was something to be proud of.

  “You’re right,” Simon finally said, his voice heavy with regret as he shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happened to me.”

  “I do,” Franklin said sympathetically. “You’ve done been beaten down. My mama used to tell me all the time that the power of slavery was its ability to beat people down until they didn’t have anything in them to fight back. Now that the war is over, those vigilantes are using the same methods they used to keep us living as slaves.” He paused as he looked at his friend. “I know you’re scared, Simon, but you can’t let them win. Whether you stay here, or whether you leave, you got to make decisions that will make you happy.”

  “You’re rig
ht,” Simon murmured slowly. “I know you’re right…”

  “I know you think Moses is crazy to come back,” Franklin continued, “but he’s making the choice he believes will make him happy. Rose is making the same choice. They know the risks. They have decided not to let the past define how they choose to live their life right now.”

  “And if they die for it?”

  “Then at least they know they didn’t let fear control every decision they made,” Franklin said bluntly.

  *****

  Matthew entered the house quietly, listening at the door before hanging his coat and sitting down in a chair pulled close to the glowing embers of the fire. He leaned his head back for a moment, relieved to be home after a long morning. He had left the office early, too disheartened to remain for the day. He took a deep breath and stood to gather wood for the fire. The fact that the flames had died meant Janie had likely gotten Robert down for his afternoon nap, and then used the opportunity to get some sleep herself.

  “You home for the day, Mr. Justin?”

  Matthew finished piling logs into the fireplace, relieved when they caught immediately, and then turned. “I am, Alma. How is everything?” He thanked his lucky stars every day that Sarge had referred this angel of a woman to them. Janie, while she was getting stronger, was taking longer than anticipated to heal from her surgery. Carrie assured them it was simply because Robert battled with colic, meaning Janie got only small snippets of sleep before Robert’s crying woke her again.

  “They be all right,” Alma assured him. “I’m sorry I let that fire go out. I was in the kitchen fixin’ tonight’s dinner.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Matthew assured her with a smile. “You weren’t expecting me home.” He glanced at the stairs. “Are they both asleep?” he asked cautiously, afraid to hope for such a miracle.