Always Forward

by Ginny Dye

  “Mrs. Samuels! Mrs. Samuels!”

  The fear in their voices put her on immediate alert. Rose pulled the carriage to a stop and jumped down to meet them. Two of them were black students, two were white. “Good morning, children. How are you?” She kept her voice calm, hoping it was just her own baseless fears that she was reflecting onto them. Their next words destroyed her feeble hope.

  “There were men watching us this morning!” Sally said, her blue eyes wide with fear.

  “Where were they?” Rose asked, trying to keep her voice even so she wouldn’t amplify their fears.

  “In the woods about five minutes from here,” Sally answered, her voice quivering as she relived it. “At first I didn’t think much about it, but then I realized there were a bunch of them. I waved at them, but they just stared at me. I got a real bad feeling, so I ran all the way here to school.”

  Rose hid her frown. “You did the right thing, Sally.” Fourteen-year-old Sally was the daughter of a Confederate war veteran. Her father had been reluctant for her to attend school, but the girl’s mother had been adamant. She knew most of the students were here because the mother’s insisted they have schooling.

  Seven-year-old Bunny crowded closer, her dark eyes even more frightened than Sally’s. “We gonna be all right, Mrs. Samuels? Them men coming after us?”

  “Are we going to be all right, Mrs. Samuels? Are those men coming after us?” Rose automatically corrected the girl’s speech, while her mind spun with the possibilities. The vigilantes had threatened to return. Perhaps planting had kept them too busy to carry out their agenda, but now that all the crops were in, perhaps they had turned their attention back to her school.

  Bunny stared up at her, her breath coming in short gasps. “They gonna burn our school like last time?”

  Rose knelt down and gathered the little girl close, realizing now was not the time to correct grammar. “Everything is going to be fine,” she said confidently. “Did you see the men, too?”

  “Yessum!” Bunny replied, her black braids bouncing on her back as she nodded vigorously. “Me and Paul be coming through the woods alone today ‘cause Mama ain’t feeling good. Them men were staring at us real fierce like.” She shot a look at Sally. “We ran all the way to school, too.

  Rose’s heart sank, but she knew she couldn’t let the children sense her fear…or her anger that the men hiding in the woods had so frightened the children. She controlled her sudden urge to peer into the surrounding trees. Instead, she hugged Bunny closer to her side. “You were very brave to run,” she complimented her. “Now, I believe it’s time to start school.”

  “We’re still going to have school?” Sally asked as she eyed the woods fearfully.

  Rose realized Sally had something else on her mind besides scary men in the forest. “What is it, Sally?”

  “Why are they watching us?” Sally burst out. “We’re white, just like they are.”

  Rose wondered if she should tell the girl the truth—that white children attending a black school might be seen as more of a threat to the vigilantes. The stories pouring in about the Ku Klux Klan revealed their atrocities were often more horrible when directed toward whites who were seen to be supporting blacks, but that was not something to put into the mind of a fourteen-year-old child. Rose would protect Sally from the truth for as long as possible.

  “We don’t know what they were doing,” Rose responded. She allowed herself to look around, not letting her eyes do more than skim the woods. “I don’t see anyone now, though. We are at school to learn. That is what we are going to do.”

  Bunny shrank even closer. “But what if they come to the school?”

  Rose didn’t have an answer for that, so she raised her voice and called for all the children to enter the building. It was still fifteen minutes before school was scheduled to start, but she didn’t want the children outside if the men returned. Sally was watching her with a knowing look, but the girl didn’t say anything. Instead, she put an arm around Bunny and led her inside. Rose hated that she hoped there weren’t vigilantes watching Sally’s kindness. It would surely make her more of a target.

  Rose took a deep breath, wavering somewhere between fury and terror. She was determined not to let terror win, but she wasn’t sure what to do with the fury.

  Felicia sidled up next to her before Rose stepped into the school. “You want me to go get Daddy?”

  Rose realized Sally must have told her daughter what happened. She thought about it quickly, and then shook her head. If there were vigilantes out there, she wasn’t going to allow Felicia to go back through the woods alone. The clinic was closed for the days Carrie was in Philadelphia, so there was no one to send for help. She longed for Jeb and Andy at that moment, but she was on her own. Rose swallowed hard before she put an arm around Felicia. “Thank you, but no. Everything is fine.” She kept her voice confident, but the look on her daughter’s face said she wasn’t fooled.

  “We’re going to do school as planned,” Rose said quietly, deciding she could at least let Felicia draw courage from her refusal to give into fear. Truth be told, she was more scared to let all the children go home alone through the woods. Perhaps by the time school was done, the vigilantes would have left. “I believe you are teaching first,” she said firmly.

  Felicia nodded her head slowly, and then allowed herself one long look into the woods. “Yes, Mama.” She drew herself up as tall as she could, straightened her narrow shoulders, and lifted her head high before she walked regally into the school.

  Rose felt her heart swell with pride and admiration as she followed her daughter. She would deal with how to get the students home when the time came. And if the vigilantes attacked the school? She refused to let herself think that way because it would do no good.

  ********

  Amber stuck her head out the barn door again, but the drive was as empty as it had been the last dozen times she looked. “When are they going to get here?” she asked impatiently.

  “Don’t you know a watched pot never boils?” Miles asked indulgently.

  “That’s not true,” Amber retorted. “My mama used to tell me that, too, so I tested it. It boils every single time. It feels like it won’t ever happen, but it does every time.”

  Robert chuckled as he exchanged a glance with Miles. “I told you she is too smart for the likes of us.”

  “That you did,” Miles said fondly, his eyes glowing with love as he looked at the little girl.

  Robert could hardly believe Miles had been here such a short time. He had fit into their operation so seamlessly it seemed as if he must have always been part of it. The old man was both wise and patient. He carried a wealth of horse knowledge so vast that Robert only hoped he could learn it all before Miles died. The man was in excellent shape, but his true age was just a guess—somewhere in his seventies most likely.

  Clint was comfortable managing the stables, but he was also smart enough to give needed jobs to Miles, and then just stay out of his way. Robert often found the two of them talking late into the night, Clint plying Miles with question after question. Miles treated each question with serious attention.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” Amber reminded Miles.

  “They’ll get here when they get here,” Miles replied, his eyes twinkling with fun.

  Amber glared at him and stamped her foot. “You’re playing with me. You know when they are getting here!”

  Robert decided to step in. “Captain Jones and Susan will be here soon. The best they could tell me was that they would arrive before lunch. It’s a long ride out from Richmond, and there could be a lot of things to delay them.”

  “But I want to show them how far all their babies have come!”

  Robert bit back a smile. One of the things he loved about Amber was that she had very little patience. She was always eager for things to happen quickly, except when it came to the fillies and colts she had been training all winter. She was a paragon of patience whe
n it came to training, never asking for more than the yearlings were able to give. They had bloomed under her and Clint’s careful tutelage. In truth, Robert was just as eager for Mark and Susan to arrive. The siblings had trusted Robert last fall when they had purchased every one of the foals. He was eager to show them their confidence had not been misguided.

  Robert stepped outside the barn to look at the carefully groomed yearlings waiting for their new owners to arrive. Their coats gleamed in the sunshine as they cavorted in the green grass. Most of them carried the dark bay coloring of their sire, but there were sorrels, chestnuts, and even one gray. The picture they made almost took his breath away.

  His attention was caught by a faint cloud of dust in the distance. He grinned and waved to Amber. “I believe I see them coming now.”

  Amber gave a shout of excitement as she raced toward him. Robert scooped her up and set her on the top rail of the fence. She was lithe as a monkey, and hardly needed his help, but he loved to feel her in his arms. He could hardly wait for his and Carrie’s child to be born, but no one would feel any more like a daughter than Amber did. His love for her seemed to grow every day.

  Miles strolled out to lean against the fence.

  “They’re almost here, Miles,” Amber yelled.

  “Sure seems like it,” Miles replied easily.

  “They’re gonna be here a whole week!”

  Robert had been thrilled when Mark and Susan said they planned on staying a full seven days. They were eager to work with all the yearlings alongside Amber and Clint, but they also wanted to spend time with Carrie, who was due back the next day. Robert forgot his visitors for a moment as he thought about his wife arriving home. He had missed her dreadfully, and he was willing to admit he had worried about her every single moment she had been gone. He had tried not to, and there was no way he would have prevented her from attending the factory opening, but he also would have been happier if she had stayed on the plantation where he could watch over her, as much as she would have hated knowing that.

  “That’s what I hear,” Miles agreed. “A week is a right long time.”

  Amber stopped bouncing up and down on the fence long enough to stare down at him. “Do you ever get excited about anything?” she demanded.

  “I reckon I be excited right now,” Miles protested good-naturedly.

  Amber stared at him. “Well, you sure do hide it good,” she retorted.

  Miles smiled. “Not sure that fence would hold me bouncing up and down on it.”

  Amber thought about that for a moment, and then laughed loudly. “I reckon not.”

  “Would you be happier if I did a little jig?”

  Amber, a wide smile filling her face, nodded eagerly. “Yes!”

  Miles bowed low at the waist and then shuffled a jig in the dirt next to the fence. After a few steps he stopped.

  “Don’t stop!” Amber commanded.

  “Dancing ain’t no fun without a partner,” Miles explained as he held out his hand.

  Amber laughed, jumped from the fence, and danced around him as Miles went back to doing his slow jig.

  Robert watched them, their antics clearing his mind of worry about his beautiful wife. Just then, the wagon rounded the curve. “We have company.”

  Amber stopped dancing and raced toward the wagon. “You’re here! You’re here!”

  Susan Jones, her blue eyes flashing with excitement, leapt from the wagon and swept Amber up into a hug. “And here is the little girl who beat me in the Tournament last year.”

  “This year, too, if you’re brave enough to ride again,” Amber said smugly as she returned the hug. “I’m real glad you’re here.”

  “And we’re glad to be here,” Mark said as he climbed down from the wagon, shook hands with Robert, and leaned down to hug Amber.

  “I want you to meet Miles,” Robert said. “He was the brains behind the Cromwell horses for decades. Now that the war is over, he is back here to work.”

  Mark and Susan greeted him warmly and then walked over to lean against the pasture fence.

  “Look at them,” Susan said softly. “They are stunningly beautiful.” Her face filled with something like awe.

  Mark nodded, not able to look away. “Every one of them is special,” he agreed. “I knew we had purchased some fine horseflesh, but I have to admit I didn’t think I would be this impressed.”

  Amber climbed up on the fence so she could look Mark in the eye. “Just wait until you see them in action, Mr. Mark. Every one of them will make you proud!”

  Before Mark could answer, a sharp whinny split the air.

  A dark bay filly, the sun gleaming off the heart shape on her forehead, came racing toward the fence. Amber laughed as she slipped down and ran to meet her filly. All My Heart skidded to a stop and did a half rear before she lowered her head to gently nudge the little girl. Amber laughed harder and slipped her arms around the filly’s neck. “Hey, little one,” she said gently.

  Susan climbed the fence nimbly and jumped down to join them in the field. “Still as spoiled as ever, I see.”

  Amber shook her head vigorously. “All My Heart is not spoiled,” she protested. “She is well-loved.” As laughter rang out through the air, she stepped back and raised her right hand. All My Heart came to immediate attention, her head held alert as she stared at Amber’s hand. She remained a frozen statue until Amber suddenly swirled her hand in a circle. The filly settled back on her haunches and then spun easily in a circle of her own. When she was facing Amber again, the little girl bowed low toward her filly. All My Heart bent one leg close to the ground and dipped her head deeply.

  Mark and Susan applauded as Amber leapt forward to hug her filly again. “See,” she boasted, “All My Heart is well-loved.”

  “That she is,” Susan agreed, gazing at Amber with unabashed admiration. “Did you teach her how to do all that?”

  Amber shrugged. “She’s smart.”

  Robert watched the exchange, his heart full of emotion. He understood the expressions on his friends’ faces. He had never known a ten-year-old with such horse training skills either. Of course, he knew the total love the two shared made the training even easier. It was not really training—it was simple communication between friends.

  “Have you done that with all our horses?” Mark asked.

  Amber smiled. “I said they were all real smart, but I didn’t say they were as smart as my filly,” she said coyly. Laughter rang out in the morning air as Amber grinned. “They are all real smart,” she said. “They are just waiting to show you what they can do.”

  “Not until you folks get up here for some tea and biscuits,” Annie called from the porch.

  Robert chuckled. He didn’t know how Annie seemed to hear everything that went on at the plantation, but she surely didn’t miss much.

  “Ham biscuits?” Mark called hopefully.

  “Only one way to find out,” Annie yelled before she disappeared into the house, the screen door slapping shut behind her.

  “That woman is a marvel,” Miles muttered.

  Robert thought Miles’ eyes were bright with something more than hunger, but right now all he could focus on was how loudly his own stomach was rumbling.

  ********

  Robert was content to lean back in his rocking chair while he munched his ham biscuits and drank his cold tea. He had gotten up extra early that morning so he could help Clint, Amber and Miles groom all the yearlings. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until Annie had demanded they eat. He took a deep breath as the soft spring air washed over him, carrying birdsong and whinnying horses.

  “You look like a happy man,” Mark said quietly.

  Robert turned his eyes to him, aware Susan and Amber were chatting. Miles had gone into the house to check on something with Annie. “I’ve never been happier,” he admitted.

  “Do you miss Oak Meadows?”

  Robert considered the question and then shook his head firmly. “Not even for a minute. There w
ere times during the war that the thought of going home was the only thing that kept me going, but Cromwell Plantation has become my home now. Everything that matters to me is right here.” His mind swirled with images of Carrie, Amber, the horses, Moses and Rose. “Cromwell Plantation is home now,” he repeated, awash with something akin to awe when he realized how completely he meant it.

  “And Carrie is doing well?” Mark asked.

  Robert nodded, praying the trip home from Philadelphia wouldn’t be too much for her. “Carrie is strong.”

  Mark leaned forward to look at him more closely. “But…? I sense there is something you are not telling me.”

  Robert frowned. “I shouldn’t worry so much,” he insisted. He told Mark about Carrie’s mother almost losing her at birth. “Carrie is healthy, though. And she has taken good care of herself.” He pushed aside thoughts of how hard she still insisted on working at the clinic. “There is no reason to think she will have anything but an easy birth.”

  “But you are still worried,” Mark observed.

  Robert sighed. “I’m terrified of losing her,” he said softly. “We’ve had so little true time together. Between the war and my illnesses, it seems like there has always been something to keep us apart. The last few months have been like heaven to me.” He stopped talking as he stared out over the pasture, trying to push down the sudden foreboding he felt.

  “None of us who went through the war takes anything for granted,” Mark said. “Susan and I love being at Oak Meadows, but there are so many nights when I dream of the entire Shenandoah Valley going up in flames again. I wake up hearing the screams of horses.” He shook his head. “None of it is real, of course, but I suspect the memories will be with me forever. I always have to step outside to make sure everything is all right.”

  For a moment, Robert wanted to point out that it was Mark’s army that had destroyed the Shenandoah Valley, but he knew the destruction had sickened his friend almost as much as it had the Virginians who had endured it. The war was over, and the country was struggling to rebuild. They had to let the other fighting go…let the past be the past. “I suspect those memories will always be with both of us,” was all he said. He knew he would never forget the horror of watching the Shenandoah Valley burn. Oak Meadows—only because of Matthew’s intervention—was one of the few plantations that had been unharmed.