by Ginny Dye
“That’s wise,” Thomas agreed, his respect for Anthony growing.
“I agree with Abby that the country is going to go through a financial crisis soon, but I suspect it won’t be for another two to three years.”
Thomas eyed him. “You sound rather confident about that.” He didn’t share the confidence, but he was intrigued as to why Anthony felt so strongly.
Anthony shrugged. “I am convinced most things in business are based on educated guesses, but the loans the banks have made on land out West won’t come due for a couple more years. They are making bad decisions, but I don’t think they will bear the consequences right away, which means we won’t. I won’t go so far as to say I feel confident, but I feel strongly enough about it to expand some of my own ventures.”
“Such as?” Matthew asked.
“I’ve bought three buildings in Richmond,” Anthony revealed. “The cost of real estate is still low, and I believe the city is going to recover. I’m making a lot of money from the sale of livestock right now. I want to put it into investments that will last long-term.” He paused. “I plan to buy more when the Cromwell foals are paid for.”
Thomas listened closely. “And if the economy crashes?”
Anthony raised a brow. “It’s not an if,” he replied. “It’s when the economy crashes. As far as I can tell from my study, our country goes through cycles of good times and bad times. I’m sure Abby is right that a bad time is coming, but I’ve bought these buildings at far below what their value will become in the years ahead, andI already have tenants in all of them. And,” he said, “I’ve paid cash for everything. I may make less money during lean years, but I’m not jeopardizing my available resources through risky loans.”
Thomas nodded as he stared into the flames, his thoughts spinning.
“Can you buy the expansion space you need outright?” Anthony asked.
“Yes,” Thomas confirmed, “but we would have to take out a loan to get it outfitted and ready for operations.” That truth was what kept them from moving forward. “We borrowed some to get the factory started, but the economy always strengthens after a war. We decided it was a good risk, and it’s proven to be. The loans have been paid in full, and the profits are healthy.”
“How long would it take you to repay a new loan?” Anthony asked.
Thomas shrugged. “If orders continue the way they are, and if we put every penny from profits back to paying off the loan, we could do it in about a year.”
Anthony whistled. “Impressive.”
“It’s also impressive how quickly it could drain our reserves and profits from our current factory if the economy crashes,” Thomas said.
Anthony thought for a few moments. “I guess it all depends on what is important to you,” he said thoughtfully.
Thomas cocked his head. “Meaning?”
“Well, I don’t believe you and Abby need more money, so I suspect you are considering expansion as a means to increase employment for people in Richmond.”
“That’s true,” Thomas agreed. “Oh, I won’t pretend it wouldn’t be satisfying to make more money, but it’s also true we would like to quit working quite so hard one day soon.” He thought about Carrie’s decision to return to the plantation for an extended time. He longed for him and Abby to spend more time there, but if they expanded the factory it wouldn’t be possible.
“Then you have to decide what is most important to you,” Anthony repeated. “I’m younger than you are, so I have to push harder and take more risks if I want to create anything even close to what you and Abby have created. But…” He shook his head ruefully. “I watched my father work himself into the grave. He was a wealthy man, but that seemed to be all he had. I never saw him do anything but work. He had everything money could buy, but from what I could tell, he had nothing of what really mattered.” His eyes darkened. “My mother never saw him, and I’m not sure he even knew all of his children’s names.”
“And you don’t want to be like that,” Jeremy said keenly.
“I won’t be like that,” Anthony insisted. “Carrie said earlier that she hadn’t told me about her graduation because I had business in Richmond, and she thought that was most important. It’s not,” he said emphatically. “I make money so I can live the life I want, but mostly I make it so I can be with the people I love. If money ever becomes more important than that, I’m going to become just like my father. I’ve promised myself I won’t let that happen.”
Thomas took a deep breath. The young man’s words had suddenly made everything so much clearer. He and Abby would still make the decision together, but he knew he no longer wanted to consider expansion. He and Abby had done their part in rebuilding the South. He didn’t know how much longer he had to live, but he knew he wanted to spend his time doing the things he truly believed were important. He wanted to go home.
*****
Carrie turned toward the door when she heard a gentle knock. She looked at the clock and sprang to her feet. “I bet we’re being summoned to the feast,” she said. She rushed to the door and opened it.
“May I come in?”
Carrie smiled and hugged Abby tightly, and then pulled her into the room. “Of course. I thought we were being called downstairs.”
“We probably will be soon, but I haven’t had a moment with you since I got here,” Abby replied.
Alice stood. “We’re done talking. I’ll go downstairs,” she said graciously.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Abby said as she walked over, settled down on the window seat, pulling Alice and Carrie down to join her. She grasped Alice’s hand tightly. “I made Nancy and Wally tell me about your ordeal. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what you’ve been through.”
“Thank you,” Alice said softly. “I’m glad it’s over. I’m also glad you’re here, because I wanted to thank you. I know you were the one who contacted Dorothea Dix for the letter that granted Carrie entrance to the asylum in the beginning. Without your influence in getting that letter, Carrie would never have been able to come in to visit me.” She rested her head on Abby’s shoulder. “I will be forever grateful.”
“I’m thankful for the small part I was able to play,” Abby replied. “I hear you are working with Elizabeth Packard now.” She looked at Carrie. “I’ve read every page of the book you sent me.”
“I’ve read it, too,” Alice revealed. “I will do whatever it takes to make sure more women don’t experience what I did. The laws must be changed.”
Abby glanced out the window. “The longer I live, the more I understand that hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.” She released one of Alice’s hands to grab hold of one of Carrie’s. “When I was growing up, we had a big oak tree that stood alone on top of a hill on our plantation. No matter how many strong storms came, that tree continued to grow. Other trees on our land were toppled by the storms, but not that one. My father used to tell me that it was because that tree stood on top of the hill all alone. The wind would blow, but the tree just kept getting stronger because it had only itself to rely on. It couldn’t have become that strong if it was sheltered by other trees. The very force of the wind made it grow big and strong.”
“We’re all strong trees,” Carrie murmured, understanding instantly. Each of them had experienced times of great hardship that would have caused many others to give up.
“We are,” Abby said. She looked at Alice for a long moment. “My dear, I believe you will discover that the hardest times of your life often lead to the greatest moments of your life.”
“I’m going to believe that,” Alice said. “I’m going to fight with Mrs. Packard in every state she will allow me to. The money Mr. Cook forced Sherman to give me in the divorce assures I will have the freedom to do that.” She grinned. “I’m sure he would be mortified to discover he is financing the war Mrs. Packard and I will wage.”
“The two of you will be a powerful force,” Abby predicted. Then she turned to Carrie. “I have somethi
ng for you.”
“Oh?” Carrie asked. “Something exciting?”
“We don’t know. Susan believed you should have it, so she sent it to me in town.”
Carrie was intrigued. “What is it?”
Abby answered by reaching in her pocket and pulling out a letter.
Carrie took the letter, puzzled by the childish handwriting on the envelope. “Who is this from?”
Abby shook her head. “We thought about opening it to find out, but it came through the mail just a week ago. Susan knew we were planning on being here, so she made sure one of the men delivered it to us when they were picking up supplies in town.”
“I’ll leave so you can open it,” Alice said.
“Nonsense,” Carrie protested. “But I am curious to know who it’s from. I don’t recognize the writing, and there is no return address.” She turned the envelope in her hands, wondering if it would be horribly rude to open it immediately.
“Open it,” Alice urged, as if reading her thoughts. “I’ll admit I’m curious myself.”
“You have no idea the self-control it took to not open that letter,” Abby said with a laugh. “I feel like it’s been burning a hole in my pocket ever since it was delivered the day before we left. If you don’t open it right now, I’m going to do it for you.”
“Patience,” Carrie replied, holding the letter to the light streaming in the window to see if it would reveal anything.
“I am not patient,” Abby retorted. “And I don’t want to be patient.” She reached for the letter. “I warned you. If you’re not going to open it…”
Carrie laughed harder and quickly slit the envelope, pulling out the single sheet of paper. Her eyes went to the end of the letter first, and then grew wide with astonishment. “It’s from Frances,” she cried.
“The young girl from the wagon train who almost died in the blizzard?” Abby asked.
“Yes.” Carrie smiled brilliantly, but her smile faded as she began to read the letter. She got to the end and took a deep breath, gathering her composure before she could read it aloud.
Dear Carrie,
You told me I could write you. I guess now is the time for me to do that. Actually, it ain’t me writing this to you. I asked a neighbor lady who can write and spell better than me to write it. I hope you don’t mind.
Carrie’s voice thickened as she thought of the little girl who had so completely stolen her heart on the wagon train. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering Frances’ long brown hair, amber eyes, and sweet face.
I thought things was gonna get better after the wagon train, but my daddy wasn’t able to get a job when we finally got back to Illinois. Remember? That’s where we came from. Anyway, Mama got some work doing laundry here in Effingham, but things were still real hard. Course, not as bad as they are now.
Carrie, I’m all alone now. The flu came through ‘bout a couple months back. It took Mama and Daddy. And it took my little sisters, too. None of them were real strong after that trip West.
Carrie’s voice broke as she choked back tears. How much would this little girl have to go through? She could feel Abby’s warm hand on her leg, but she focused on the words swimming on the page.
I been staying with a neighbor lady for a little while now, but she don’t have enough money to keep me. She found a place at an orphanage for me. Don’t you worry about me none, Carrie. I’m gonna be all right. I just wanted you to know what happened to me, cause I don’t figure I’ll be able to write any more once I get in that orphanage.
You told me I got to have hope and be brave. I want you to know I’m holding on to hope, just like you told me. I don’t always feel real brave, but I reckon things gonna turn out all right. I’ve learned how to do a little reading, and I be learning how to do some writing, but I knew you would read it easier if I let my neighbor write it.
She feels real bad about not keeping me, but things still be real hard up here. Just about every man I see came home from fighting in the war, but there don’t be enough jobs for all of them. There are lots of hungry people. I think about that other little girl you told me about, just about every day. I think her name is Felicia. Anyway, losing both parents to the flu is real bad, but I don’t figure it’s as bad as having them killed right in front of me.
Carrie brushed away her tears.
I want you to know I’ll be fine. Thank you for saving my life in the blizzard. I’m gonna try to make it one worth saving.
I love you,
Frances
When Carrie gained enough control to look up, both Abby and Alice had tears in their eyes. “That poor little girl…”
“How old is she?” Alice whispered.
“She would be eleven now.” Carrie swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought of Frances all alone in an orphanage. She knew orphanages could be fine places, but she had also heard horror stories of how children were abused or neglected.
“What are you going to do?” Abby asked gently.
Carrie smiled as she looked into Abby’s knowing eyes, appreciating that Abby knew what she was going to do before she even said it. “Exactly what you think I’m going to do. I’m going to go get Frances.” There had never been another thought once she had read the contents of the letter she was gripping.
“What?” Alice asked with a gasp, confusion swimming in her eyes. “What do you mean? What about being a doctor?”
Carrie shrugged. “I was going to figure out how to do that with Robert and Bridget,” she replied, her certainty growing as she talked. “One thing I’ve learned is that life is what happens to you while you’re living,” she said. “The Navajo taught me that. You think you know where you’re going, and then something happens to completely change your course. The only difference here is that this morning, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do now that I’ve received my diploma. All I knew was that I wanted to be home.” She smiled, excitement pulsing through her as she talked. “Frances is a special little girl. I wanted to take her home with me from the moment I met her. Now I get to do that!”
Abby looked at her with eyes of warm approval. “She’s a lucky little girl,” she murmured. “Would you like me to go with you?”
Carrie stared at her, hardly daring to hope. “You can do that? I thought you had to get back to the factory.”
Abby shrugged, her eyes bright with determination. “I can’t think of anything more important than going with you to get Frances. I’m not willing to wait for you to get home in order to meet my new granddaughter.”
Carrie grinned. “We have to make a stop on the way back.”
Abby raised a brow and waited, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
“Rose graduates in one week. I want to be there.” Carrie glanced at the diploma sitting on her desk. “It meant so much to me to have all of you there to celebrate. Far more than I imagined it would. Rose has worked even harder than I have, and waited longer than I did, to go to school. I can’t imagine her graduating without being a part of it.”
“On one condition,” Abby said solemnly.
It was Carrie’s turn to raise a brow. “And that would be?”
“That we keep it a surprise.”
“Yes!” Carrie exclaimed, jumping up to do a jig around the room. “I don’t know why I should be surprised at how fast life can change, but I always am.”
*****
The last of the guests had departed before Carrie found herself alone with Anthony on the porch. She and Abby had agreed to say nothing about Frances or their trip until Carrie had a chance to talk with him. Abby was telling Thomas, of course, but they had decided not to announce it to anyone else. Now that they had finished their scrumptious feast of baked halibut, fried oysters, and more side dishes than she could remember, it was time. “Would you like to go for a walk?”
Anthony looked at her with surprise. “You still have energy for a walk?”
“It’s a beautiful night,” Carrie replied. “And, I have something to talk
to you about.”
Anthony cocked his head. “It sounds serious.”
“It’s certainly important,” Carrie acknowledged, wondering why she was nervous, but not denying she was.
Minutes later, they were strolling down a back residential street. It was dark, but a warm front that had moved in that day had turned the night into a balmy spring evening.
“My life is about to take a radical change,” Carrie finally said, breaking the silence.
“I’m listening.”
Carrie smiled, knowing Anthony was doing just that. Suddenly, she wasn’t nervous anymore. She hoped he would respond positively, but she knew it wouldn’t change her decision. She was confident in what she was about to do. “Do you remember me telling you about the little girl I saved on the wagon train during the blizzard last year?”
“Frances? Of course.”
Carrie stared at him. “You remembered her name?”
“If she’s important to you, then she’s important to me,” Anthony replied.
Carrie took a deep breath. “I received a letter from her today. Abby brought it from home.” She told him everything. “I’m going to Illinois to get her,” she finished. “I’m going to adopt her and bring her home to the plantation.”
“Of course you are,” Anthony said quietly.
Carrie stared at him, not able to read his expression in the dark. She didn’t hear anger or frustration in his voice, but surely her adopting an eleven-year-old girl changed his perceptions of a possible life together. “I love her, Anthony. I know that sounds crazy after the short time on the wagon train, but I wished the whole time I was with her that I could bring her home with me. She’s very special.”
“She’s also very lucky,” Anthony replied.
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Should it?”
All Carrie wanted was a solid answer. “Please tell me what you really think. I appreciate your being understanding and giving me space to make my own choices, but you have also declared your love for me and claimed you will wait for me. Now, I’m adopting a child who will soon be a teenager.”
