Carried Forward By Hope (13 page)

“Not unless Master Cromwell be in West Virginia.”

Carrie took the envelope but still looked at Miles. “You know you don’t have to call my father Master Cromwell anymore, don’t you? You’re free now.”

“Yessum,” Miles agreed.

Carrie was concerned by what she saw in his eyes. “What is it?” she asked quietly. “You know you can talk with us,” she added when he hesitated.

Miles stared down at her for a moment before he answered her. “It’s gonna take a while for things to be right down here,” he finally said.

“What do you mean?” Carrie pressed.

Miles shrugged. “Just ‘cause I be free don’t mean folks see me that way. It ain’t smart right now to go ‘round callin’ Master Cromwell anything but that,” he said firmly.

May swung in through the door carrying a fresh pot of coffee. “You know Miles ain’t gonna tell you nothin’, Miss Carrie,” she snapped.

“But you will,” Aunt Abby prompted.

“Yes, I will. There’s talk about a lot of black folks being beaten the last few days because they wasn’t showin’ the proper respect for their old owners,” she said bluntly.

“What?” Carrie gasped.

May nodded her head briskly. “Miles be right. Just ‘cause we be free don’t mean folks are gonna see us that way. The black folks who gonna make it through this time are the ones who are smart. We’s been playin’ the game for a long time. We knows how to play it for a while longer.”

“But you’re free now,” Carrie protested. “You don’t have to—”

“They’re right,” Moses interrupted quietly.

“But…”

Moses held up his hand. “Right now there are soldiers here to keep the peace. They’re doing a good job, but they can’t be everywhere. There are a lot of white men who are determined to make sure our kind remembers their place.”

“They ruled by fear for a long time,” Rose added. “Just because the slaves are free doesn’t mean they have walked free of that fear. It also doesn’t mean they don’t have a reason to be afraid, Carrie,” she said bluntly. “A Constitutional Amendment is a wonderful thing that has changed the law, but that doesn’t mean it has changed people’s hearts. That’s going to take a lot longer.”

Carrie wanted to protest again, but the quiet acceptance in Rose’s eyes stopped her. “It’s wrong,” she said simply.

“Yes,” Moses agreed, “but we all knew freedom was just the first step. We aim to do everything we can to make sure that freedom means something, but it’s a good idea to do what we can to live through the transition,” he said flatly.

“Just how bad is it?” Aunt Abby asked quietly.

Moses shrugged. “Everything is so new right now, but I can promise you that white men aren’t going to sit back forever and just let us be. The soldiers won’t always be here. The government won’t always be around to take care of things. We have to prepare for that time.”

“And how are you doing that?” Aunt Abby asked.

“We’re forming societies,” Moses replied. “The identity of everyone in them will be kept secret. The freed slaves are pouring into Richmond because they think there is more opportunity here.”

“Is there?” Carrie asked.

Moses shrugged. “For some, but it’s going to take a long time for Richmond to get back on its feet. In the meantime, every black person who comes to town is seen by the whites as competition for a job. They’re seen as a slap in the face to the southern way of life.”

“You sound rather calm about it,” Aunt Abby observed.

“Not calm,” Moses admitted. “I think I would prefer to call it resigned. I had to resign myself to a lot in the military. Instead of wasting my energy fighting it, I looked for ways to work around it.”

“And that’s what the secret societies are for?” Carrie asked.

“Yes. Black folks have known for a long time how to take care of each other. We’ve always only had ourselves to count on. We don’t see that changing anytime soon. The societies will be in place as an insurance policy. Everyone will contribute what they can, and then they will take care of people who need it.”

“There are lots of freed slaves who are too old to work,” Rose added. “There are people who are sick. There has to be a way to care for them.”

“But isn’t the government going to take care of them?” Carrie asked, her head spinning as she gazed at Aunt Abby for help. “What about the new Freedmen’s Bureau?”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Aunt Abby said carefully. “There is a lot of fear, a lot of anger, and a lot of battered pride. When you add all that together…”

“You gots a big mess!” May said flatly.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Aunt Abby agreed softly. “There are certainly plans being made to get help to all the freed slaves, but it’s a daunting task to provide for over two million people, while also working to get people to see things differently.” She straightened her shoulders. “It doesn’t mean it can’t be done,” she said firmly. “The government will do what they can, but each one of us needs to step up to do what they can.”

“Like starting a factory,” Carrie said.

“Yes. That’s what I do,” Aunt Abby agreed, “but every one of us has something to offer. Rose will be teaching. Jeremy’s expertise in finance will be critical. Moses will be a leader for those who are lost and confused. Carrie will provide medical care.” She paused. “The most important thing we all offer are hearts of love and compassion. It will take massive amounts of love to offset the hatred and prejudice that are still rampant throughout our country.”

A thick silence fell on the room as everyone thought about what she said.

Carrie suddenly remembered the envelope in her hand. She smiled when she looked at the return address. “It’s from Hobbs,” she said, as she used her knife to open it. She smiled as she envisioned the red-haired young man who had become like a little brother to her during the last four years. He had been her friend and her protector. Robert had saved his life during battle. Hobbs returned the favor during Antietam and then gave his all from that time on, taking care of Carrie while Robert served.

It took her just moments to scan the contents. “He made it home safely,” she said with relief. “He’s glad to be back with his family and says his farm was mostly untouched. He just finished helping plow the fields.”

“On that leg?” Jeremy asked in astonishment.

Carrie smiled. “I didn’t suppose Hobbs would allow a shortened leg and crutches to keep him from farming. He always found a way to compensate.”

“Has he gone camping with his dog yet?” Rose asked. “I remember him saying how much he wanted to do that.”

Carrie grinned. “First thing when he got home. He and Jasper took off for three days into the woods. I imagine that was the best possible thing he could do to begin to wash away the memories of the war.” She grew thoughtful. “He’s just one of hundreds of thousands of men who are being forced to rebuild their lives.”

“And women,” Aunt Abby added.

“Yes,” Carrie murmured, her mind drifting back.

“Have you heard from Georgia?” Jeremy asked.

Carrie shook her head, thinking of the young woman from the Deep South who had dressed as a man and gone into the Confederate Army with her brother. He was killed, but Carrie had saved Georgia’s arm, as well as saved her secret by taking her out of Chimborazo Hospital and treating her at home. “I keep hoping a letter will come, but nothing has. I don’t know if she lived through the last battles in Petersburg. I haven’t wanted to ask Robert.”

Another silence fell on the room as their thoughts drifted to Robert lying in the bed just above their heads.

Moses cleared his throat. “Is he any better at all?”

Carrie shrugged. “I just don’t know,” she admitted. “His heart and mind are still closed down, but he seems to have put on a little weight.” Her eyes sharpened as she realized Moses’s eyes held more than his question. “What’s on your mind, Moses?”

Moses gazed at her steadily for a few moments and then spoke with the ease of an old friend. “I’ve got to go after Mama and Sadie,” he said gently. “Before I do that, I need to get Rose and John settled on the plantation.”

Carrie nodded. “You should do that,” she said briskly. “I’m afraid to move Robert until he’s stronger, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go.” Once she had thought that far, her mind flew forward. “There’s no reason for you to stay here in the city. If you went, you could also take Eddie. He would be safe with you.”

Moses nodded. “Captain Jones said he would send some of my men out with us.”

Carrie eyed him sharply. “You’re worried about what could happen if you went alone.”

Moses shrugged. “Let’s just stick with what I said earlier about being smart.”

Carrie pushed aside her uneasiness, realizing that Moses’s men were seasoned veterans who had come through the war. Surely they could protect Rose and John. “I think it’s a good idea for you to go,” she said. “You can let Sam and Opal know I will be coming home with Aunt Abby and Robert as soon as I can. If they are still there, they can help get things ready.”

“I have a feeling they’re still there,” Moses said quickly. “Sam didn’t want to leave, and Opal is waiting for Eddie to reunite with his kids.”

Carrie shrugged. “I’ve learned to not take things for granted,” she said with a slight smile. “Regardless, you need to go get your mama and Sadie.” She cast an eye at Jeremy. “What do you want to do?”

Jeremy sat quietly for a moment. “This is the first I heard of them going out, but I think I’m going to stay here for a while longer and see if Thomas returns. He’ll want to know everything going on in the government. I’m the best person to fill him in. I would like to first experience Cromwell Plantation with him.” His voice thickened. “He’s told me so many stories.” He looked at Rose. “Do you understand?”

Rose nodded quickly. “Of course! I’m glad you want to be here for him. And it makes me feel better to know you’ll be here for Carrie.”

Carrie didn’t try to stop the tears that welled up at the thought of her father. She reached over for Jeremy’s hand. “He will be so glad you’re here,” she whispered.

Matthew breathed in the humid Mississippi air as he stepped from the train.

Peter appeared in front of him almost immediately. “Welcome to Vicksburg, old man! I thought you were going to miss the excitement all over again.” His grin disappeared almost as fast as it had flashed. “How was President Lincoln’s funeral?” he asked quietly. “I would have been there, but the paper sent me down here to cover this story instead.”

Matthew smiled and gripped his hand. “It’s good to see you, Peter. Thanks for coming to meet me.” His expression darkened. “The funeral was a fitting tribute to an amazing man. His funeral train is still winding its way through the northern states right now. It won’t arrive in Illinois until May third.”

“Eight more days,” Peter murmured. “I’m glad so many people are able to pay their respects.”

Matthew nodded. “It’s only right.” He glanced around the train station. “Did I get here in time to accompany some of our soldiers on their trip home?” He was caught off guard by the flash of fury on Peter’s face. “What is it?”

Peter shook his head angrily. “Calling them soldiers almost seems a farce,” he snapped. “The men that are being loaded onto the steamboats are little more than caricatures of the soldiers they once were.”

“I know what that’s like,” Matthew said grimly. His two times as a hostage in Libby Prison had indoctrinated him to deprivation and starvation. He barely had the strength to escape, and it took him months to return to his old self. The nightmares still haunted him, but they were fewer and they weren’t as intense. He could only hope time would heal the rest of his scars. It wasn’t something he talked about. Peter shared the second experience with him but hadn’t been confined to Rat Dungeon in the hold of the prison for months like Matthew had been.

Peter’s shoulders slumped. “It’s bad, Matthew. It’s really bad,” he whispered roughly.

“These men came from Andersonville?”

“Yes,” Peter ground out. “I met with a group of men last night. They are nothing but skeletons. One man went in to Andersonville weighing one hundred eighty-five pounds. He came out weighing about eighty.”

Matthew grimaced.

“He’s just one,” Peter continued. “Grant arranged for the sickest ones to be released first. A lot of them didn’t make the trip here. They died on the train, or during the thirty-mile walk from Jacksonville.”

“They made them walk thirty miles?” Matthew asked angrily. “In their condition?”

Peter nodded, his lips a tight line. “The ones who made it are counting the minutes until they’re on a boat and on their way home. Most of them have already written letters telling their loved ones they will be with them soon.”

Matthew took a deep breath. The war was over, but the horrors were not done. He wondered how many men would die on the boat, unable to withstand the rigors of several days of travel. His job was to tell the story of the return trip and the men who had lived to experience it. He forced himself to think like a journalist.