Always Forward

by Ginny Dye

  “I hate it,” Amber said fervently. “It almost rips my heart out to hear the mares and babies crying for each other.”

  Amber buried her face in All My Heart’s neck, but not before Carrie saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She instantly understood Amber’s sadness was not just about the babies. “Robert always hated this time, too,” she confided.

  Amber peeked up. “He did?” she whispered.

  “He did,” Carrie confirmed, remembering the pain on his face. “He knew it had to be done, but it never got easy for him. He just figured he had to get through it so all the foals could go on to become great horses.”

  Amber lifted her head and put her hand on All My Heart’s muzzle. “All My Heart is going to be a great horse,” she said confidently, the misery disappearing from her face when she realized her hero had also hated the weaning process.

  “Yes, she is,” Carrie said. “Just like you are going to be a great woman.”

  Amber cocked her head, fixed her with a steady gaze, and then nodded shyly. “Robert used to tell me the same thing all the time.”

  Carrie took a deep breath to hold back the sob that wanted to explode from her chest. It broke her heart that Amber would not have Robert to believe in her as she grew up. It broke her heart to know Robert had never had a chance to know his daughter. He would have been such a wonderful father. Her thoughts were interrupted by Amber’s hand on her arm.

  “Robert used to tell me that someday I would be a great woman like you,” she said, her dark eyes gleaming with a bright intensity. “He told me you were the greatest woman he had ever known.”

  Carrie stared down at the little girl, hardly able to breathe. As glad as she was to hear those words, the knowledge of all she had lost was almost more than she could fathom. Now that the numbing grief had lifted, the sharp pangs of loss that could strike her at any moment were no easier to bear. She was saved from having to respond by the sound of Clint’s voice.

  “We have another letter, Carrie!”

  Carrie looked up, sheer relief allowing her to smile almost naturally. “A letter?”

  “From another potential buyer,” Clint informed her. “Captain Jones and Susan said they were going to spread the word. They sure have!”

  It warmed Carrie’s heart to see the young man’s enthusiasm. He had taken Robert’s death hard too, going off for many long rides on his own in the weeks following the murder, but having the horses to concentrate on had helped. She noticed a flash of worry in his eyes. “Is something wrong, Clint?”

  Clint hesitated. “I’m real good at raising the horses and training them, but I don’t know much about selling them. I’m afraid I won’t be very good at negotiating their price,” he admitted. “I don’t want to let you and Robert down.”

  Carrie smiled. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be handling that end of it.”

  Clint sagged in relief. “You’ll still be here?”

  Carrie had not yet told Clint and Amber about her decision. Now was as good a time as any. “I’m not leaving the plantation.”

  Clint stared at her. “You’re not?”

  Amber stared up at her too, but her eyes were cautious. “You’re not?”

  “I’m not,” Carrie assured them, wondering about what she was seeing in Amber’s eyes. “I’ve decided to stay here and run the horse operation for Robert. All of us working together can make his dreams come true.” The delight in Clint’s eyes was unmistakable, but Amber’s eyes looked troubled.

  Carrie knelt down to the little girl’s level. “Aren’t you glad, Amber?”

  Amber nodded her head quickly. “I’m real glad you’re not leaving, Carrie, but…”

  “But what?” Carrie prompted, wishing she hadn’t started the conversation because she was almost certain where it was going to lead.

  “You’re supposed to be a doctor,” Amber said bluntly. “Robert told me so. How come you’re not going to be a doctor?”

  Carrie flinched but didn’t look away. “I’m not going to be a doctor after all,” she said softly. She held her finger to Amber’s lips to keep her from asking the question that evoked memories still capable of destroying her heart. “Can you accept that and be happy I’m going to stay, honey?”

  Amber stared at her for a long moment, uncertainty radiating from her eyes, but she finally nodded. “I am real happy you’re staying, Carrie.” She paused for a long moment before she added, “But if you change your mind about becoming a doctor that will be all right, too!”

  Clint saved her from having to respond again. “So you’ll meet with the horse buyers when they come?” He was more than happy to focus on the fact that he wouldn’t have to do something he didn’t feel capable of doing.

  “I will,” Carrie promised. She planned on talking to Abby about how she had handled taking over her first husband’s business when he had died. “But,” she added, “I want you to be there with me so you can learn, too. I want everyone in the South to know what an amazing horseman and stable manager you are. The time will come when you will be able to negotiate the sales yourself.”

  Clint smiled broadly and his shoulders went back proudly. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Carrie watched as Amber ran off with All My Heart, and Clint strolled away whistling.

  “I’m real proud of you, Miss Carrie.”

  Carrie looked up as Miles walked down the stairs from the room above. She suddenly felt very fatigued. She recognized she was doing better, but the energy it took to operate normally was almost more than she could produce sometimes. She knew she didn’t have to pretend with Miles. “I’m tired,” she confessed.

  “Of course you are,” Miles agreed tenderly. “You serious about staying here on the plantation?”

  Carrie nodded. She felt caught somewhere between a place of peace and uncertainty, but it was the only decision she felt she could make. She was sure Miles could read the expression on her face, but he didn’t question what she had said.

  “I’m real glad,” he murmured before he turned away to start work.

  Carrie gave a sigh of relief and then frowned when she realized there was also a twinge of disappointment. There was a part of her that had expected Miles to disagree with her, to tell her she had to go back to medical school. She knew she should be glad he hadn’t, but there was still the twinge she couldn’t ignore. She shook her head heavily, unable to understand her own jumbled feelings and thoughts. Granite’s whinny pulled her out of her own reflection. He had gotten used to their daily rides, and she wasn’t going to disappoint him. When she turned to him, though, he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused on the drive leading away from the house.

  Carrie walked to the door, certain they weren’t expecting anyone, but now that she was paying attention there was no mistaking the sound of a carriage approaching the house. She patted Granite and walked out to discover who their company was.

  “Carrie!”

  Carrie’s eyes widened in shocked surprise as the call floated to her through the thick afternoon air. “Abby?” She ran to the porch, arriving just as the carriage pulled to a stop. “Hello, Spencer,” she said warmly to the driver. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  “You too, Miss Carrie,” Spencer replied before he glanced at the house. “You reckon Annie got any cookies in there?”

  Carrie smiled and waved him into the house before she turned to Abby. “What are you doing here?”

  “Disappointed to see me?”

  Carrie smiled again. “Never. I just had no idea you were coming.” She was aware Abby was staring at her with a look of delighted surprise. She understood why. The last time she had seen her stepmother, she was a complete mess. Most of her weight had come back on, and she at least cared enough to take care of her appearance.

  “I like surprises,” Abby said lightly as she climbed down from the carriage and enveloped Carrie in a warm embrace.

  Carrie sighed as she fought back the tears that threatened to erupt whenever she let her g
uard down. She relished the feeling of Abby’s arms, realizing she hadn’t let her stepmother hold her enough since Robert and Bridget’s death.

  “I love you so much, Carrie,” Abby whispered, her voice clogged with tears.

  Carrie just held on, not trusting her voice. Talk Carrie. Talk about it. The advice from Biddy’s letter echoed in her heart. “We have a lot to talk about,” she finally managed.

  Abby laughed shakily and released her. “Yes, we do,” she agreed.

  ********

  It wasn’t until Carrie had led Abby through the tunnel down to the river that she could finally relax. She understood that everyone else wanted to visit with Abby, and dinner had been a necessity, but as soon as she had felt it was polite, she had beckoned Abby to join her for a walk.

  Abby gazed around, taking a deep breath as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant hues of orange and purple splashed on a canvas of cobalt blue. A masked raccoon looked up, calmly went back to washing himself, and then slowly lumbered back into the brush. “I see why this has become so special to you,” she said quietly.

  “I don’t stay out here all night anymore,” Carrie revealed, “but I still come every day.”

  “I understand why.” Abby turned and caught Carrie’s face in her hands. She peered deeply into her eyes.

  Carrie squirmed slightly, but let Abby examine her closely because she knew how badly she had scared everyone.

  “You’ve come a long way,” Abby said before she dropped her hands and sat back.

  “I have,” Carrie replied. “I still have a long way to go.”

  “Yes,” Abby agreed. “Tell me.”

  Carrie smiled, knowing Abby would let her tell everything in her own way, and wouldn’t ask for more than she was willing to reveal. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Abby cocked her head and raised a brow.

  “For giving me time. For not thinking badly of me when I simply couldn’t deal with anything.” She paused, knowing Abby wouldn’t interrupt her as she processed her thoughts. She already knew Abby understood what she had gone through. It was true that everyone dealt with grief in their own way, but Abby had known deep grief too. For just a moment she felt a flash of awareness that she would be able to understand someone else’s grief in the future, but her own was still too raw for her to be truly grateful. She still doubted she would ever feel anything but brutal agony when she thought of Robert and Bridget, but the fact that she could even consider reaching a place of gratitude was a huge step for her.

  “I’m not going to be a doctor,” she said bluntly. She wanted to get the hardest revelation out of the way first.

  “I know,” Abby answered.

  “Did Matthew tell you?” Carrie wasn’t sure if it bothered her or not, but she understood why if he had.

  Abby nodded. “He was still at the house when Dr. Hobson came by one day to ask about you.”

  Carrie stiffened. “He told Dr. Hobson?” She wasn’t sure why that bothered her, but it undeniably did.

  The look on Abby’s face said she was wondering the same thing, but all she did was shake her head. “No, but when Dr. Hobson left, Matthew told me and your father.”

  Carrie searched her face. “Are you angry?”

  Abby’s eyes widened in surprise. “Angry? Of course not. Why in the world would I be angry?”

  “You’ve invested so much in me becoming a doctor,” Carrie protested.

  Abby waved her hand in the air. “Nonsense. No one could have possibly anticipated what would happen in your life. Anyone who could respond with anger doesn’t understand your life is your own to live.” She paused. “They don’t understand you are the only one who can live with the consequences of your decision.”

  Carrie knew there was no ulterior motive to Abby’s quiet statement. She waited for her to question the decision she had made, but Abby remained silent. Carrie was sure her stepmother knew the reason for her decision, and was also sure she disagreed with it, but Abby was giving her the freedom to do what she believed she needed to do.

  The splash of a fish made her turn to catch the last glowing rays of the sun before it slipped away to continue its revolution of the Earth so it could bring a new beginning in the morning. For a moment she wondered about the people watching it beginning to rise in their part of the world. Were they as desperate as she was to relish the beginning of a new day, instead of dreading the feelings it would bring? Did they appreciate the beauty of the sunset or did they wish it would never come, like she did? “The nights are the hardest,” she murmured.

  Abby reached over and took her hand. “They will be for a long time,” she said somberly. “It was years before I could go to bed without crying myself to sleep after Charles died. As time went on I could function fairly normally during the days, but the nights seemed to mock me.”

  Carrie relaxed, glad that Abby understood. Another long silence passed before she spoke again, not ashamed when her voice cracked. “Thank you for holding Bridget.”

  Abby squeezed her hand tightly. “Bridget was beautiful,” she said softly, before her voice strengthened. “She wasn’t alone, Carrie. I don’t know if she had any way of knowing, but my granddaughter was held and loved when she came out of your womb.”

  Granddaughter. The simple word made Carrie realize how much Abby and her father must have grieved. Robert. Bridget. They had lost so much too, but her own grief had been so dark she hadn’t been able to even acknowledge anyone else’s. The unwelcome recognition brought huge tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve been so selfish.”

  “Hush,” Abby said. “You have been buried by a pain that is greater than you. There is no shame in that, Carrie.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m thinking you must have read Biddy’s letter.”

  “She is a very wise woman,” Carrie answered, a smile forming among her tears.

  “That she is,” Abby agreed. “I don’t know what she said, but I knew it would be what you needed to hear.”

  “It was,” Carrie replied, relishing the soft breeze that sprang up off the water as the sun was swallowed by darkness. She gazed up at the canopy of stars winking their way into existence as the night sky revealed them. She stiffened suddenly.

  “Carrie…?”

  “I just realized something,” Carrie breathed as she continued to stare upward. “Stars are always in the sky, but we can’t see them until it gets dark.” Abby smiled, but remained silent as Carrie’s thoughts formulated. “I suppose it’s only natural to always want your life to be brilliant sunshine, but the stars are so beautiful,” she murmured. “The darkness is usually not a fun place, but it is the only way to reveal the beauty of the stars.” She smiled as the glowing orbs seemed to twinkle more brightly in response to her appreciation.

  Abby leaned back against the log to fully absorb the shimmering canvas. “Nothing is ever wasted. I don’t believe God ever brings pain into our life, but I do believe good can come from every single thing. I will never be glad Charles died, but I’m grateful for who I became through it. I will never be glad Robert and Bridget died, but I’ve at least learned that good can come from it in time.” She put a strong emphasis on the final words. “We are all waiting for the good things to be revealed. I believe they will be.”

  Carrie couldn’t say she agreed, but she had at least come far enough not to lash out in anger or dissolve in tears. It was enough for her to realize the beauty of stars could only be revealed in the darkness. That was quite enough revelation for one night.

  “I need your help,” Abby said.

  Carrie whipped her head around. In all the time she had known Abby, the older woman had never asked for her help. It had become too dark to see her eyes, but Carrie could feel a strange tension radiating from Abby now that the question had been asked. “What do you need?”

  Abby took a deep breath. “I need you to go to Kansas with me.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened and she couldn’t seem to fi
nd enough air to respond. She finally managed to squeak, “You need me to do what?”

  “Come to Kansas with me.” Now that she had broached the subject, Abby’s voice seemed more certain.

  Carrie stared at her, wondering if she was speaking a foreign language. “Kansas? As in the state?”

  “That would be the one,” Abby replied, and then she continued in a hesitant voice that said she knew she was asking a lot. “I have been asked by the ERA to go to Kansas to work for the passage of the woman’s suffrage vote there.”

  Carrie’s head was spinning. She had no idea what was going on outside the world of the plantation, and she was completely unable to comprehend the possibility of leaving.

  Abby seemed to understand her confusion. “Kansas is holding a referendum on November fifth. It is the first ever referendum on women’s suffrage in United States history,” Abby explained. “They are trying to amend the section in the Fourteenth Amendment that adds the word ‘male’ as being one of the qualities of a voter.”

  Carrie had talked to Rose enough in the last weeks to understand what Abby was saying, but it still seemed like a language she didn’t understand because there was absolutely no part of her that cared.

  “It’s important, Carrie,” Abby said, her voice becoming urgent as if she were trying to break through her apathy. “Kansas is also trying to get the word ‘white’ taken from the amendment so that blacks also have the right to vote. So many people have fought for both of these things for a very long time. We finally have a chance for it to happen.”

  Carrie gazed at her, glad the darkness covered just how much she didn’t care—couldn’t care—because she simply didn’t have the energy to.

  “I need you to come with me,” Abby repeated.

  “Why?” Carrie asked bluntly.

  Abby laughed softly, the sound rising up to be swallowed by the stars gleaming down on them. “Because I agreed to do it before I really thought about it.” Her voice became hesitant. “I know you think I’m asking you to do this only to get you off the plantation, but the truth of the matter is that I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m nervous about going alone.”