Glimmers of Change (3 page)

“Granite is having a ball,” Carrie said laughingly, holding back the choked feeling that rose in her throat as she thought of leaving her towering gray Thoroughbred again in the spring. Once, all she had wanted was freedom from the plantation and a chance to make her way in the world. After four years of war and separation from all she loved, it hurt her to think of leaving it again.

“Your thoughts, Carrie?” her father asked.

Carrie gazed at him, aware of what he was really asking. Another New Year tradition was to share your dreams for the upcoming year. Some people called them resolutions. Her father had taught her to shy away from that word because he believed it set people up for failure when they inevitably couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accomplish them. All her life, the dreams her father encouraged her to have had driven her forward into action. In different company she may have blithely shared her dreams and then passed the baton. As she looked around the table, she realized that more than anything she wanted to speak honestly.

“I’m wishing becoming a doctor didn’t mean I have to leave the plantation,” she said bluntly. “It hurts my heart to think of leaving all of you.” She paused and swept her gaze around the room. “I’ve actually thought about not going to medical school, though Robert has done nothing but encourage and support me.” She stopped again, wondering if anyone would respond. She quickly realized they would remain silent until she had finished, giving her time to communicate her thoughts. That knowledge, perhaps more than anything, made the idea of leaving even harder. How could she leave this group of people who loved and accepted her so completely?

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and continued. “Yesterday, I had an emergency patient at the clinic.” Carrie smiled slightly as she called the small room tacked onto the schoolhouse her
clinic
, but she also knew that without it medical care would be unavailable for everyone in the area. It was humble but crucial. “He lost his arm two years ago during the war. Suddenly, for no reason I can tell, it’s hurting him terribly and has become red and inflamed. He’s in agony.” She took a deep breath. “I was able to give him something for the pain, and we’re working to battle the infection, but I realized I still have so much to learn before I can truly help people the way I want to. The only way to get that knowledge is to go to medical school and learn from people who know more than I do.”

Carrie held back the tears that threatened. She breathed a sigh of gratitude when Robert took her hand and squeezed it firmly, giving her courage to continue. “Abby and Rose have taught me so much about courage. People think I’m so brave, but I’ve always had the support of my family for everything, even during the war. Abby fought so many challenges on her own for so long.” Her face lit with a quick smile as she looked at Abby and her father. “I’m so glad both of you have each other now.”

Her eyes swept to Rose. “After escaping slavery, you left Abby’s home in Philadelphia to move down to teach school in the contraband camp. It would have been so easy to keep going to the Quaker School and live in the comfort of a wonderful house. Instead you moved into a shack so you could teach and make a difference.”

She couldn’t hold back the tears as she finished. “It’s my turn now. I’ve got to leave the things I hold precious so I can make a difference. I have so very much to learn. I know there are people, even in Philadelphia, who will think it horrible that I have left my husband to go to school.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she turned to look at Robert. “It still amazes me that you’ll let me go.”

“I think we determined several years ago that
letting you
has nothing to do with it,” Robert responded blandly, his eyes dancing with fun. “Having said that, I’m so proud of you I could almost burst. My wife is going to be a
doctor
.”

Laughter rolled around the table as everyone nodded in agreement.

The burden completely lifted from Carrie’s heart as these people she loved so much looked at her with love and pride. They had survived four years of war and reunited stronger than ever. Life would call all of them away at some point, but there would always be times like these when they came back together, giving each other the strength to do what they needed to do.

“We’re all so lucky,” she said softly. “So very, very lucky.”

“Amen to that,” Abby said firmly.

“Robert?” Thomas asked.

Robert leaned back in his chair, his muscular arms crossed across his chest, his brown face attesting to all the hours spent outdoors in the stables. “Now that the war is over, horses are going to be needed more than ever. Especially in the South. I intend to make the horses from Cromwell Plantation the best in the region. We’ve made a good start.” His eyes rested with pride on Clint, his young protégé. “We’ve got a long way to go, but we’ll get there.” He nodded his head toward Moses. “Your turn.”

Moses grinned and polished off another biscuit before he began to speak. “Last year’s tobacco crop was a huge accomplishment since we had to plant so late because of the war. This year’s crop is going to be even better. I’ve talked to the men. We’re going to plant every acre of Cromwell that can be planted. The war was a huge financial hit, Thomas, but the value of tobacco is even higher now. By the time spring arrives, we’ll be at full speed.”

Carrie smiled at the look of pride on her father’s face, marveling again that he had come so far. Before the war, he had simply not been able to see blacks as anything but the inferior race white men were supposed to control. That he had given half of Cromwell to Moses, accepting him as his brother-in-law, was a huge testimony to the ability of people to change.

It was Rose’s turn. “The school is growing. This cold may be hard to battle with the woodstove, but it has also made it possible for more of the children to come to school. They don’t seem to mind staying bundled up through the day. Almost every student can read now,” she said proudly.

“Tell them about Rufus and Mandy,” Moses urged.

Rose laughed. “I’ve been trying to get the parents to come to school, but so many of them are just too tired after a long day of working, or,” her eyes darkened with quick anger, “they can’t get passes off the plantations they are working on.”

Carrie grimaced, knowing that tension was growing between the planters and the freed slaves. The planters were trying their best to operate things the way they had during slavery. The slaves were trying their best to live in the freedom they had fought so hard for. A portion of her fears came from the understanding that things would have to come to a head at some point.

Rose shook off her anger. “Rufus and Mandy are both ten years old. They came into school right before Christmas and told me they had taught their parents how to read.” She grinned with delight. “I sent them home with some of the books that were shipped down after the fire so they can all read together at night. They’ve inspired the other children to do the same thing.”

Everyone clapped with delight before Rose turned to Matthew. “Your turn.”

Matthew shook off his somber look and smiled brightly.

Carrie watched him closely, knowing Matthew was trying to hide far more than he was going to be willing to say. She was so grateful for her strong friendship with the journalist from West Virginia. He had survived horrors during the war but had not lost his passion for using the written word to communicate truth and effect change.

“This time last year I was still covering horrific battles, wondering when it all would end. I’m so grateful the war is over. I realize we have a new battle to fight now, but I’m also convinced that newspapers and the stories I will write for my book can help change how people feel. I
have
to believe it,” he said, his voice bordering on desperation even as he fought to sound casual.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Moses asked perceptively.

“What makes you think I’m not telling you something?” Matthew asked lightly.

“Because your eyes and your voice aren’t saying the same thing,” Moses said bluntly. “You might be able to pull off a charade with another group of people, but I’m afraid we all know you too well.”

Matthew smiled slightly as he searched for words. “I wanted to wait until after our celebration breakfast,” he finally murmured.

Robert nodded at the empty platters on the table. “I’d say it’s over,” he observed, watching Matthew closely. “Moses is right. What are you not telling us?”

Just then the pounding of hooves sounded outside, the noise increasing as they drew closer.

Thomas’s face set in stern lines as he stood. “We’re not expecting company.” He kept his voice calm. “It’s probably nothing, but I think it best if all of you stay inside. I’ll take care of it.”

“But, Thomas…” Moses began, pushing back from the table.

“That especially includes you, Moses,” Thomas said firmly. “You’re part owner of the plantation, but I don’t think our visitors, whoever they are, have come to talk to you.”

The tension around the table increased as Thomas strode across the room, grabbed his coat, opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch.

Thomas stood erect at the edge of the porch. His silver hair glistened in the sunlight, his handsome face displaying none of the tight concern clenching his gut. He had heard the rumors swirling through Richmond in the weeks before he came out to the plantation for Christmas. The news Matthew brought, the same news he had not been willing to share with everyone else during the holidays, had lent weight to the rumors. He, Abby, and Jeremy agreed with his decision not to infuse darkness into the celebration. Though he had hoped nothing would happen, he was prepared for any contingencies. No one but he knew a pistol was tucked into his coat pocket.

Within moments, a group of six horsemen cantered around the final bend, slowing as the horses in the field stopped playing and watched them. All the men were bundled tightly against the cold, scarves concealing their identities.

Even through the thick layer of clothes, Thomas could feel the anger emanating from them when they continued to ride forward. He forced himself to remember the hospitality Cromwell Plantation had always been known for. “Happy New Year, gentlemen,” he called as the horses came to a halt, their bridles jingling as they bobbed their heads.

“I guess
you
would think so, Cromwell,” one of the men answered caustically.

Thomas stiffened but chose to not respond.

“There aren’t many plantation owners in the South who still have horses like this, Cromwell,” another man said bitterly. “I guess the stories of you selling out to the North are true.”

Thomas recognized the voice immediately. Jonathan Sowell owned the plantation ten miles down the road. He knew Sowell had lost everything during the war, including his two sons. He still remained silent.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Sowell taunted, pulling down his scarf so Thomas could see his brown eyes glittering with rage.

Thomas took a slow breath, willing his body to stay relaxed. “I learned in my years serving in the Virginia government
during the war
that it is impossible to reason with bitterness.” He decided to let his reminder of his service be the only response to their accusations. “I don’t imagine all of you came to wish me and my family a Happy New Year, so what can I do for you?”

Sowell moved his horse closer to the porch. “You and your
family
, Cromwell? Would that include the niggers that used to be your slaves? And that daughter of yours who is treating niggers in the same clinic where she treats white people?” he sneered. “We’ve been hearing things.”

“Did you just come to ask me questions?” Thomas asked evenly, clenching his fists within his pockets and closing one over the pistol. “It seems like you could have picked a day that wasn’t quite so cold.”

“No, we didn’t come to ask you questions.” Another man pushed his horse forward, his scornful voice ringing in the frigid air.

Again, Thomas recognized the voice. “Hello, Daniel.” In spite of his concern and his growing anger, he felt sympathy for the band of men grouped in front of the porch. All of them must have suffered horribly during the war. He couldn’t identify them all through their scarves, but he was quite sure they had attended parties together in the past. Daniel Cannon owned the plantation eight miles due west of Cromwell. The limp hang of his jacket confirmed the rumors of him losing his left arm at Gettysburg. He also lost two of his three sons, with the third returning home an alcoholic.