But Delia thanked the Good Lord when she saw that the little cabin she’d shared with Grady and Anna was still standing. Tears filled her eyes as she walked through the empty rooms, wondering how Grady and Anna were, and what had become of them now that the war was over. She longed to see her Grady again, but she doubted that she ever would. The same was true of her daughter up north. Delia often wondered if she even remembered her real mother anymore, or if she lived such a happy life of freedom that her five years of slavery had been long forgotten.
Delia tidied up and made her bed and swept away some of the dust. Then she sat outside on the doorstep, so tuckered out that she felt winded. A verse of scripture that Shep had once taught her floated through her mind:
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Yes, Delia was ready for a good, long rest.
She stared down the deserted road, remembering a time when she had been young and pretty and full of strength, a time when the road brought a steady stream of visitors to the Fuller Plantation. But whenever she’d heard the merry jingle of carriage bells, her heart had leaped and danced. It meant that Shep was here! Delia smiled, remembering how his owner, Miss Carrie, had demanded bells on her carriage so that everyone would know when she arrived from Savannah. Those bells had made such a happy, joyful sound. Delia would race to the window whenever she heard them—and there Shep would be, sitting tall and proud on the driver’s seat, his face stretched wide in a handsome grin.
Shep would have to finish all his work before he could see Delia, wiping the dust off the carriage and greasing the wheels, feeding and tending the horses. And she would have to finish her work in the Big House, as well, polishing the furniture and serving the meals. But when evening fell, Delia’s husband would come to her in their tiny cabin, and he would hold her in his arms and kiss away her tears. And all the long months that they had spent apart would seem like a fading dream.
“How long can you stay?” Delia would always ask.
Shep would smile his wide, loose grin and say, “I can stay until the Good Lord needs me someplace else.”
Now, as Delia sat on the weathered step, she realized that Shep was the real reason she had returned home to this cabin. Not only was it filled with warm memories of him and the love they’d shared, but it was also the only place in the whole world where Shep knew where to find her. If he was still alive after all these years and the upheaval of war, if he could somehow find a way to return to her, then this is where he would come.
The summer night was sultry, the midges annoying. Delia had eaten very little all day, but she was too tired to get up and fix dinner. She sat on the steps and watched the fireflies winking in the bushes, the stars pricking through the covering of night, one by one. She felt an ache in her shoulder, a weight on her chest and knew that grief and longing and sadness had caused them. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to subside.
Then Delia heard them—the jingling carriage bells—faintly at first, then growing louder, clearer.
She opened her eyes and it was morning. She was surprised at how light it was. Sunshine filled the yard, and she wondered how she could have slept on the cabin doorstep all night. The sound of jingling bells grew closer, a happy sound that lifted Delia’s heart to the skies. The approaching carriage rolled down the long driveway and drew to a halt.
Shep stepped down.
But for once he didn’t take care of Miss Carrie’s horses first. Instead, he hurried toward Delia’s cabin, smiling broadly. Delia thought it must be the tears that blurred her vision, but he didn’t look a day older to her than when he’d driven away so many years ago. She slowly rose to her feet, afraid to wipe her eyes, afraid to blink for fear he would disappear.
“Shep!” she whispered. “Oh, Shep!”
He stretched out his strong hand to her and she felt the calluses on his palm from holding the reins.
“Delia, honey, we’re free,” he said. “I’ve come to take you home.”
Beaufort, South Carolina
September 1865
“Kitty!”
Anna dropped the book she was reading and looked up. Missy Claire glared at her from the drawing room doorway, holding her son, Richard, by the hand. “What are you doing in my house?” Missy demanded.
Anna’s heart leaped to her throat. She had heard the back door open and close, heard footsteps approaching down the hall, but she had assumed it was Grady. Her first instinct was to scramble to her feet and apologize to Missy for sitting on her sofa, for reading her book, for living in her house. But George was asleep with his head on her lap. Besides, Anna was a free woman now. She remained seated, calmly stroking George’s wooly hair, fighting the impulse to stand.
“We been living here for a while now, Missy Claire. And we’ve been taking real good care of your house for you.”
“You have some nerve,” she said, “sitting there as if you owned the place. And that’s my dress you’re wearing!”
“Yes, ma’am. I made it over to fit me, seeing as my dress was all worn out.”
“Get out!” she yelled, pointing toward the back door.
Anna had long been afraid that this day would come. Ever since the war had ended last April, she’d wondered how much longer she and George would be allowed to live here. Grady had only returned home from the war two days ago. They’d been so overjoyed just to be together again, and so in love with each other, that they hadn’t had time to talk about what they would do next or where they would live if Massa Fuller wanted his house back.
Anna set the book on the table beside her and slowly rose to her feet. George felt heavy and warm and cuddly as she lifted him in her arms. The surprise and panic she felt had passed, and Anna faced her mistress with her chin held high. “I think you’ll see how nice Minnie and Jim and me have been keeping your house for you, Missy Claire. There ain’t nothing ruined or missing either, except some food that was in the pantry … and this dress.”
“Get out this minute!” Missy said, stepping into the room. Anna looked down at three-and-a-half year-old Richard. She had cared for him like her own child, walking the floor with him, bathing him, loving him. But he glared up at her with the same resentful stare that his mother wore. Anna rubbed George’s sweaty back, promising herself that she would never teach him to hate.
“I learned how to read and write,” Anna said without knowing why. “I’m a teacher myself, now.”
Missy gave a short, humorless laugh. “The blind leading the blind. No doubt you’re teaching people who are just as stupid and ignorant as you are.”
Anna smiled sadly. “I don’t know why you hate me, Missy Claire, but I don’t hate you. I’m not your slave anymore, but if you need any help getting settled, I’ll do what I can for you.”
“Are you going to get out of my house, Kitty, or should I call my husband and have him throw you out?”
“It’s gonna take me a few minutes to gather all our things together, but I’ll go. And my name ain’t Kitty, ma’am. It’s Anna.”
When Grady returned from his errand downtown, there was a wagon parked near the carriage house. He hurried up the driveway, wondering who it could be, and found himself face to face with Roger Fuller. His old massa gave a start of surprise, but the worried look quickly left Massa’s face.
“Oh, Grady! It’s you. I saw the uniform, and for a moment I … What are you doing here?”
Grady suddenly felt like the trespasser that he was. “My wife has been staying here with Minnie and Jim,” he said slowly, “taking care of the place for you. I was mustered out of the army last week. I just got here myself a few days ago.”
“I see.”
Grady could tell that Fuller was just as uncomfortable as he was. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. He gave his former master a quick appraisal and saw how much the war had aged him. His skin looked brittle and yellowed, like the old receipts Anna had used to draw her portraits. Fuller’s arm, which had been severely wounded the last time Grady had seen him, hung from his shoulder, gaunt and awkward, as if it hadn’t healed properly.
“Yes, my arm is still a bit troublesome,” Fuller said, following Grady’s gaze. “I have difficulty holding on to things with this hand. Makes it hard to drive a team of horses.”
“I see you got yourself some new ones,” Grady said. He walked over to survey the team, running his hand along the first one’s flank.
“Nothing like the horses I used to have, are they?” Fuller said a little sadly.
“You ever get them back again?” Grady asked, remembering Blaze.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Grady tried to act casual, but his unease was slowly turning into panic. Massa Roger had returned home to Beaufort, and now Grady would have to find someplace else for his family to live. He had no idea where that might be.
“You planning on living here in Beaufort for a while?” he asked.
Fuller sighed. “The government claims that I owe four years’ worth of taxes on this house. Since I can’t pay them, the place will have to be sold at auction.”
“But you’re a rich man, Massa Fuller.”
“Not anymore. I invested everything in Confederate bonds to support the war effort. They’re worthless now, of course. Claire and I came to pack up some of my family’s things, then we’re moving back to the plantation. If I sell some of my land and a few other valuables, I should be able to keep the plantation in the family for my sons.”
Grady had no idea why Fuller was confiding in him, but he found himself pitying his master. Grady had never had anything, and so he had nothing to lose. How much worse it would be to have had everything in the world—and to have lost it.
“If you need help loading your wagon, I can help you,” Grady said. The look Fuller gave him was so stripped of pride, so naked and vulnerable, that Grady was immediately sorry he had made the offer.
“Thank you, Grady. But I can’t pay you.”
Grady swallowed his own pride in return. “I have no place to live, Massa Fuller. If you let me and my family stay in the room above your stable, we’ll call it even.”
Fuller nodded, staring at the ground. Then Grady remembered Delia, and his pulse raced. “Massa Fuller? Do you know where I can find Delia? Last time I saw her she was at Great Oak with Missus Fuller. She’s always been like a mother to me, and I’d like to find her and take care of her if I can.”
“She was at Great Oak,” Fuller said, “but she asked to come home with me to live on my plantation again. She said she wanted to live out her days here.”
Joy and relief flooded through Grady. “I’ll be glad to drive your wagon for you when you’re ready to go back. Anna and I want Delia to live with us.”
Fuller looked away, staring into the distance. “Grady, I’m sorry. Delia passed away.”
Grady closed his eyes. He didn’t care if Fuller or anyone else saw the tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks.
Grady sat on the lumpy bed with his face in his hands, the cornstalks crunching beneath his weight. “Anna, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to ever have to live like this—”
“It ain’t your fault,” she said. “Every slave in South Carolina’s in the same mess we’re in. At least we have each other. Some folks probably never will find their husbands and wives and children.”
He lifted his head to look at her. She was so beautiful that he forgot to breathe sometimes when he gazed at her. And so strong. She’d become a strong, courageous woman while he’d been gone. He took her hands in his and pulled her down on the bed beside him. “I love you,” he said.
“I know. And it ain’t the end of the world if we have to live above the stable for a while.”
He felt the seed of panic begin to grow and send out shoots again. “We might only be able to stay here for a night or two. Massa Fuller has to sell the house. I been hoping we’d have more time to figure out what we’re gonna do, but—” “You’ve only been home two days,” she said, caressing his face. “And we’ve both been wanting to spend every minute in each other’s arms.”
Grady leaned forward to kiss her, but she shook her head, smiling playfully. “First we’re gonna make some plans. If you could have any job in the whole world, Grady, what would you like to do?”
“I been thinking about that, all the while I been away at war,” he said, “but I don’t know how I can ever make it happen: I’d like to have my own stable and some horses. I’d like to start a livery business.”
“Then let’s do it, Grady. We might have to work for other people at first, but if we save all our money, then maybe we’ll be able to buy that stable, someday.”
He looked into her dark eyes and believed that anything was possible. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she stopped him again.
“Not yet,” she said, smiling. “I been thinking, too, and remembering how much you were always wanting to go back home to Richmond.”
“Anna, I don’t have any money for that.”
“I know. But I do. I been saving this for a surprise.” She stood and rummaged through the little bundle of possessions that she’d carried over from Massa’s town house. “Hold out your hands,” she ordered.
Grady’s jaw dropped when she poured a small pile of silver dollars into his cupped hands. “What… ? Where did you get this?”
“Miss Ada at the mission helped me sell some drawings to a newspaper up north. I been saving this money for your boat fare. It probably ain’t enough for all of us, but I want you to go, Grady.”
“I can’t be taking your money. We’ll need this to live on.”
“It’s
our
money. We’re husband and wife. You been telling me to think like a free woman, and you been saying that free women get paid for the work they do—well, that’s my pay. And a free wife can help her husband go to Richmond, if she wants to.”
“But what will you do while I’m gone?”
“I been thinking about that while I been packing. Miss Ada and Miss Helen already offered me a place to stay at the mission. They want me to keep on teaching. We’ll be okay, Grady. Honest we will.”
He stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, unwilling to let her go. It would be hard to be apart again, but they’d weathered much longer separations before. “I know,” he said. “From now on we’ll all be okay.”