Carried Forward By Hope (32 page)

Thomas let her words sink into his heart and mind. He turned and started walking with her again, feeling the breeze on his face as it ruffled his hair. And as he walked, the truth filtered through. “I’m making myself feel guilty almost as a way of feeling better about the mistakes I made.”

Aunt Abby remained quiet.

Thomas knew she was letting him think it through. He felt a moment of gratitude before he ruthlessly examined his thoughts. “I’m wasting valuable energy by focusing on the wrong things,” he realized. “I can’t go back and change the fact I was a slave owner. I can only live the life I believe in now.”

Aunt Abby smiled. “Carrie told me you were an extraordinarily smart man. She was right.”

Thomas chuckled as they arrived at the bottom of the steps. Laughter still rang from the house. “It’s so good to see the house alive again,” he said, his eyes bright with pleasure. He looked down. “Thank you so much for your company. And thank you for helping me clarify my thinking.”

“It was my pleasure, Thomas,” Aunt Abby assured him.

******

Carrie tapped lightly on the door to Aunt Abby’s room. She answered with a soft rose-colored robe wrapped around her waist, her hair still mussed from sleep. “I know it’s early, but I was wondering if I could entice you into a ride.”

“Both of us on Granite?”

Carrie laughed quietly. “Captain Jones isn’t heading back to Richmond until after lunch. He’s enjoying the plantation. He agreed to let you borrow his horse.”

Aunt Abby’s eyes lit with pleasure. “In that case, I would love to! Give me just a few minutes.”

“Meet me in the stables,” Carrie said. “Opal fixed us some ham and biscuits to take with us.” She pulled out the hand she was hiding behind her back and presented a hot cup of coffee. “I thought this would help,” she said teasingly.

Aunt Abby reached for it gratefully. “Blessings, my child,” she murmured, closing her eyes as she took a sip. Her eyes sprang back open as she smiled over the rim of the cup. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Sidesaddle?” Carrie asked.

Aunt Abby grinned. “Are you kidding?” She nodded at the breeches Carrie was wearing. “You look absolutely wonderful and comfortable. Do you have more of those?”

“Philadelphia society would be mortified,” Carrie said with mock horror.

“All the more reason!”

Carrie reached for the pair of breeches she had laid on the chair beside the door. “I was hoping you would feel that way,” she replied. “You’ll have a much better chance of keeping up with me.”

Aunt Abby snorted. “I haven’t been in a saddle for years, so I’m going to be sore all over tomorrow, but don’t you worry about me keeping up,” she challenged.

Carrie laughed. “I’m seeing a side of you I never suspected.”

“Prepare yourself for surprises, my dear,” Aunt Abby said demurely.

Carrie was still laughing when she let herself out the front door, stopping on the porch and letting the splendor of the early morning wash over her. She had always been mesmerized by the mornings, but after years of being trapped in the city, the sensation of freshness and openness was almost overwhelming. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. The aromas of fresh grass and lilacs flowed over her. Listening carefully in the early morning stillness, she could hear bees buzzing as birds welcomed the new day. A snort and whinny in the distance broke through her contemplation. She smiled with anticipation as she ran lightly down the stairs.

She was waiting, both horses bridled and saddled, when Abby strode up to the stables, a warm coat of her father’s over breeches tucked into riding boots that must have been her mother’s.

Aunt Abby’s words confirmed it. “Your father saw me on the way out. He insisted that I wear your mother’s boots. They’re almost brand new.”

“Mother seldom rode. I only saw her on a horse twice. The boots are old, but they’re certainly not used.” She glanced at Aunt Abby’s breeches. “How did Father take your attire?”

Aunt Abby shrugged as she lifted an eyebrow. “He just looked at me over his coffee cup and told me to have a good time with his non-traditional daughter.”

Their laughter pealed through the early morning as they led their horses over to the mounting block. Within moments they were headed out to the fields at a brisk trot.

Carrie was impressed with Aunt Abby’s seat in the saddle. “I had no idea you rode until Father mentioned it last night.”

“Since I was a child,” Aunt Abby responded. She told Carrie about her grandmother. “Her teaching me to ride was another of our secrets. My mother was quite intimidating. I think Mamaw was afraid of her, but only afraid of her ending our relationship. She was determined I would have a chance to live to my potential.”

“The reason you have given that same chance to so many others,” Carrie said quietly. “You’ve certainly done that for me. Also for Rose and Moses. I’m sure there are countless others.”

“Whatever I have given has come back to me a thousand-fold,” Aunt Abby responded warmly. She looked out over the fields. “They must be absolutely breathtaking when the tobacco crop is ready to be harvested.”

“Nothing like it,” Carrie agreed. She grinned. “Ready to do more than trot?”

Aunt Abby smiled in return and leaned forward, calling out in delight as the big sorrel gelding she was riding broke into a gallop. “Catch me if you can!” she called over her shoulder.

Carrie laughed, waited a few moments to give her a lead, and then gave Granite his head. She felt pure joy explode in her horse as he settled into a dead run, his long legs devouring the ground. She made no attempt to slow him as he raced past Aunt Abby’s mount, making it seem the sorrel was running in place.

Carrie let him run, knowing he had earned it after years of hardship and deprivation. She would have come back to the plantation for Granite if nothing else. She tossed her head as she felt her braid come loose and fall down her back. The rush of freedom flowed through her body, breaking the chains of sorrow and pain that had wrapped themselves around her heart.

Granite slowed as he neared the woods. Carrie turned him and rode back to meet Aunt Abby.

“Goodness,” Aunt Abby said with a laugh. “He passed us like we were standing still!”

Carrie laughed. “I even gave you a lead.”

“How kind… I’m not sure I noticed.”

Carrie laughed harder and headed toward a break in the trees. “I have something to share with you.” She was quite sure Aunt Abby knew where they were headed, but she followed Carrie in silence.

Carrie took deep breaths of the fragrant air as they rode forward, the ground carpeted with the vibrant color of trillium and bluets. She pointed out the wild columbine and the soft purple of the Virginia cowslip trying to hide beneath the fresh new fern fronds. She picked her way around fallen limbs and tree trunks blocking the almost non-existent path, sure of where they were going.

She dismounted in silence when she reached her destination. She tied Granite to a branch, and walked slowly to the edge of the river, her heart surging with an emotion so strong she could barely breathe.

Aunt Abby remained silent as she slipped up beside Carrie and put an arm around her waist.

They stood that way for a long time. Carrie felt the rest of the burden of the war years fall away as she watched the James River rushing by, the waves catching the sun in a glistening tumble of water and sparkles. Each rushing wave seemed to tear away a chunk of heaviness and send it hurling down the river. Finally, feeling washed clean, she rested her head on Aunt Abby’s shoulder.

“It’s a magical place,” Aunt Abby said softly. “I feel like years were just swept from my heart.”

Carrie nodded and stared into her eyes. “That’s exactly what I feel,” she whispered. “It’s been so long,” she murmured.

“Thank you for sharing your place with me.”

“I’ve wanted to for so long. I knew you would understand.”

Aunt Abby nodded. “You can feel it.” She gazed around and walked over to settle on the log Carrie had spent so many hours contemplating life upon when she was younger. “It is a sanctuary.”

“That it is,” Carrie agreed. She settled down on the log to join her. “I was sitting right here when I finally understood slavery was wrong.”

“Then it is indeed a sanctuary,” Aunt Abby said with a smile. “You learned to hear the voice of God here.”

Carrie and Aunt Abby sat quietly for a long time. Neither felt the need to interrupt the silence that wrapped them in its peace.

Fish broke the surface of the James, leaping up to grab bugs before they landed with a splash. Brightly colored cardinals and blue jays mingled with sparrows and chickadees as they danced through the trees. Squirrels chattered as they raced up and down the tree trunks, springing from one limb to another.

Aunt Abby put her hand on Carrie’s leg and tilted her head silently.

Carrie smiled as a doe and a tiny fawn, still tottering on newborn legs, crept into the clearing. The doe froze when she caught sight of them but slowly relaxed, seeming to know there was no threat. The pair picked their way through the clearing slowly and merged into the woods once again.

“Beautiful!” Aunt Abby whispered.

Carrie smiled but her heart was simply too full to speak. She suspected it would take a long time for the beauty and freedom of the plantation to completely wipe away the remnants of pain and suffering from the years in Richmond, but each special moment healed her heart a little more.

“How is Robert?” Aunt Abby finally asked.

Carrie sighed, hating to have reality intrude on her peace, but acknowledging one of the reasons she had brought Aunt Abby here was because she wanted to talk about her husband. “No different,” she admitted. “I don’t see any change at all.”

“How are you handling it?”

Carrie frowned. “What do you mean? I was just so hoping Robert would get better. I guess I was hoping bringing him out here would create a miracle.”

“And it still might,” Aunt Abby said quietly, “but I’m asking how
you
are handling your husband’s illness.” She held up a hand when Carrie opened her mouth. “I already know how badly you want Robert to get better. I already know you’re doing everything you can.”

Carrie was confused. “Then what are you asking me?”

Aunt Abby took her hand. “Carrie, you have been married for two years. Most of that time, your husband was in England or fighting. You’ve had so little time together. Now, when the war has finally ended, your husband is critically ill. So the question is, how are
you
doing?”

Carrie shook her head. “How should I be doing?” she asked. “All I can think about is getting Robert well.”

“Then you’re a better woman than I am,” Aunt Abby said bluntly.

Carrie stared at her. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You, my dear girl, need to let yourself count,” Aunt Abby said firmly. “Carrie, you are a vibrant young woman. I’m assuming you’ve had sexual relations with your husband?”

Carrie flushed but nodded. “Of course,” she murmured.

“And isn’t it hard to accept that part of your life seems to be over?” Aunt Abby pressed.

Carrie turned a brighter red but managed to look Aunt Abby in the eyes. “Yes,” she said softly, “but I try not to think about it.”

“I’m aware that is the standard way of dealing with things,” Aunt Abby replied gently, “but you still think about it, don’t you?”

Carrie nodded reluctantly. “I’m afraid it makes me seem very selfish.”

Aunt Abby snorted. “It makes you nothing but human, my dear.”

“But there’s nothing I can do about it,” Carrie protested. “What good does it do to think about it?” She turned to stare blindly out over the water, turmoil raging in her heart.

Aunt Abby lifted her hand to Carrie’s chin and turned her head, forcing her to look at her. “Pretending you don’t have the feelings will do you no good. They will keep churning in you anyway. I believe it’s more about acknowledging you have them and accepting that for right now you can’t have what you want. It does not mean, however,” she added firmly, “that you won’t have it again.”

“I’m afraid to hope for that,” Carrie said softly. She managed a small smile. “I’ve never had a conversation like this with anyone,” she admitted.

Aunt Abby laughed. “If we’re going to be modern, non-traditional women, then we need to be able to talk about sex.” She sobered. “My husband was ill for the last two years of his life. It was so difficult to have that part of my life end. My love for him didn’t change, but that doesn’t mean I had everything I wanted.”