Glimmers of Change (61 page)

It had been his mama that set him straight before he could escape the inquisition. “You think there be stupid women in this kitchen?” she had demanded.

“Of course not,” Moses said quickly.

His mama waved her infamous rolling pin under his nose, her eyes flashing. She had used it to make a point with him ever since he was young. “Ain’t one woman in here don’t recognize trouble when we see it. We been living it long enough to know when it be lurking around the corner. Now you tell us what is going on, son, or this rolling pin is gonna find a place on your backside.”

“And we might just hold you down so she can get you good,” June said mildly, her eyes flashing dangerously. “We don’t need to be protected, big brother. We need to be prepared in case there is trouble.”

How could Moses argue with that when he had said the same thing to Simon? He told them his suspicions, stressing that he had no concrete evidence something was going to happen. That had seemed to satisfy them enough for them put their focus on loading the wagon with all the food they had prepared, but he suspected they only quit pestering him because they wanted to make sure everyone was together as quickly as possible.

Rose eased up to him now and confirmed his suspicions. “We’re all here,” she said firmly. “I want the whole story.”

Moses met her eyes squarely. “There really isn’t a
whole story
. It’s just a feeling I have.” He knew how inadequate of an answer that was, but it was the best he could do.

Rose gazed at him for a long moment. “When was the last time you had this
feeling
?”

Moses hesitated, realizing honesty was the only thing that would satisfy his wife. She would see through anything else. “Memphis,” he admitted, trying to push back the memory of corpses and battered bodies.

Rose stiffened and then looked around at the field full of laughing, talking people. Simon’s forty acres had included a large field nestled into the woods. They built their home to one side of it. Since the field had not been fenced for animals yet, it was a perfect place for their Fourth of July party. Big tables had been hastily built to hold the mountains of food. Brightly colored blankets were spread everywhere in the shade of the trees bordering the field. Close to one hundred people were already there. The adults were clustered on the blankets, laughing and exchanging gossip, while the children ran wildly through the grasses, their giggles and shouts pealing through the late morning air. “What have you done to prepare?” she asked calmly.

“All the men know my suspicions,” Moses told her. “Everyone is carrying a pistol. There are rifles in the wagons.”

Rose shuddered, horrified of what could happen if there was actually a gunfight. “This is not a battlefield, Moses. These are women and children.”

“I know,” Moses replied heavily, “but I’ve heard stories about vigilantes sweeping into communities shooting everything they see.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “They won’t get away with that here.”

Rose was frightened by the picture he was painting. First, there had been the fire at the school. Then Jeremy had been attacked. Thomas had sent recent news saying her twin was recovering well, but nightmares had haunted her for nights. “Should we cancel the party?”

“I thought about it,” Moses admitted, “but I have nothing except a feeling. I don’t want to spoil everyone’s fun after they have worked so hard. I’ve stationed two men at the intersections about a half mile from here. They know the trail to get through the woods so they can beat anyone on the roads here if they suspect trouble. If we get advance warning, we can get the children and women into the woods where they will be safer.”

Rose took a deep breath. She knew he had done everything possible. Now her husband needed to know she believed in him. “Then I suggest we join the party,” she said quietly.

“Moses! Moses!”

Moses turned just in time to catch Felicia as she hurled herself into his arms. He could hardly believe this was the same terrified child he had brought home from Memphis. Her cheeks had filled out and her eyes shone with vibrant life. She had bloomed on the plantation, just as Rose had predicted she would. He laughed as he swung her high in the air. “Hello, Felicia. Are you having fun?”

“I sure am!” she cried, her eyes glistening with joy. “Did you know the very last foal was born this morning?”

“I didn’t,” Moses replied. That made twenty new foals prancing in the Cromwell fields. He enjoyed watching them every morning when he sat on the porch to drink his coffee. “Are you sure it’s the last one?”

Felicia nodded firmly. “Yes. Robert told me.”

Moses hid his grin. “Well, if Robert says it, I believe it.” Robert had become like a god to Felicia. She had fallen in love with all the horses, but the foals held a special place in her heart. She would sit for hours and watch them in the pasture. He had found her many times curled up in the straw with the foals in their stalls, sound asleep. Robert had already taught her how to ride. Her confidence was growing every day.

“I have a best friend,” Felicia announced solemnly.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. Amber be by best friend.”

“Amber
is
my best friend,” Rose corrected gently.

“Amber
is
my best friend,” Felicia repeated, smiling at Rose.

Moses nodded, holding her away so he could gaze in her eyes. “Amber is a good best friend to have,” he responded. “Did y’all go riding this morning?”

Felicia’s smile exploded on her face. “We sure did! Robert let us go all by ourselves this morning. We had to stay within sight of the barn, but I bet he’ll let us go farther soon,” she said confidently.

“What makes you so sure of that?” Rose asked, not sure how she felt about Felicia and Amber roaming about the plantation on their own.

“Because Amber told me about Robert’s wife, Miss Carrie. She said Miss Carrie used to ride all over this plantation when she was hardly any older than we are. Surely Robert wouldn’t keep us from doing something his own wife did,” she answered with a cocky grin.

Moses choked back his laughter.

Rose sent him a scolding look and took one of Felicia’s hands. “Miss Carrie lived here all her life, sweetie. She knew the plantation like the back of her hand. You have to promise me you won’t go anywhere by yourself until you have been there first with one of us or Robert.”

Felicia nodded quickly. “I promise,” she said brightly. “Will you let me down now? Amber is waiting in the woods for me. We’re building a secret fort,” she said importantly.

Moses smiled and lowered her to the ground, chuckling when she ran off. “Carrie’s independence is legendary.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “And her mother worried about her every minute. I’m beginning to understand how she felt.” Suddenly she laughed. “This is a beautiful day. We are surrounded by wonderful people. I suggest we just focus on having a good time. If trouble comes, we’ll deal with it.”

Moses nodded easily. “Let’s go get some of my mama’s potato salad before the buzzards eat it all.” He had every intention of enjoying the party. He had done all he could to prepare for whatever was coming. He had said it was just a feeling, but it was more than that. Trouble was coming before the day ended. He knew it.

Matthew leaned against the lamp post, enjoying the music, the laughter, and the steady tromp of feet as thousands of veterans filed by. He was also quite sure he was escorting the loveliest women in Philadelphia. He had seen the many envious looks from men as he took his parade position with Carrie, Janie, Alice, Elizabeth, and Florence.

Janie edged up to him, her eyes sparkling with fun. “I’m glad you’re here,” she shouted. “After spending four years telling these men’s stories in the newspaper, you should be here to watch the parade.”

Matthew grinned. “This will be a fun story to write.” He pushed away horrific memories of the battles he had covered. He was certain he would never entirely lose the images he carried in his mind, but their impact was lessening. Instead of paralyzing him, they inspired a jolt of gratitude that he had survived, as well as a determination to ensure the sacrifices had not been made in vain. As he watched the parade stream by, he was glad to see what seemed like an endless wave of men who had survived with him.

The majority of the parade-watchers were women, children, and old men. Almost every other male of fighting age, which meant anyone from fifteen to fifty, was now marching. He felt curious eyes on him, but he was secure in his years as a war correspondent. He had served.

He forced himself to focus on the steady stream of soldiers moving past him. Many were minus a leg, hobbling with the aid of crutches and canes. Black patches covered blind eyes, while empty sleeves announced a missing arm. The thing every man had in common was the fierce pride on their faces as the crowd hollered and cheered, even when their voices grew hoarse. It took hours for the ten thousand men, accompanied by bands and colorful floats, to parade through the streets, but not one person moved until the last soldier had passed by.

Only then did the crowd begin to break up.

Matthew was suddenly aware of how loudly his stomach was growling. “I understand there is food at the house?” he asked hopefully.

Janie laughed. “Lots of it,” she promised, laughing harder when Matthew rubbed his hands together and licked his lips.

Matthew reached into his pocket when they finally got back to the house. He had arrived with barely enough time to see the beginning of the parade. The envelope he carried had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since. He handed it to Carrie as they stepped into the foyer. “It’s from Abby,” he said in response to the question in her eyes. He smiled when she stiffened. “It’s good news,” he assured her.

Carrie relaxed and reached for the envelope. She opened it, read it quickly, and then smiled with delight. “Listen!”

Dearest Carrie,

I know how much all of you have been thinking about Jeremy and praying for him. It will still be a few weeks before Dr. Wild removes the casts on his arms, but the last stitches have been removed from his head and the swelling has all disappeared. He is as handsome as ever. The deepest cuts were on his head, so the hair is growing back to cover them. Marietta has teased him about being as vain as a woman, but he merely retorts that he wants his beautiful fiancée not to have to start life with a scarred husband. I can assure you it wouldn’t matter to Marietta. She absolutely adores Jeremy!

Dr. Wild is confident the concussion has completely healed. He has cleared Jeremy to return to work on Monday but made him promise he would only work half days for the first two weeks. To my surprise, Jeremy agreed easily. I suspect he is enjoying his time with Marietta and is not eager to go back to work.

Spencer is completely back to normal…at least physically. I’ve noticed he is much more nervous when he is driving, but he doesn’t let it stop him. Of course, it could have something to do with the armed guards that ride with us everywhere. They are really quite impressive. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of a relief it is to have a man with a rifle accompanying me everywhere I go, but I also realize what a dangerous time we are living in.

I’m sure we’ll never know who attacked them, but, as odd as it sounds, it seems to have helped with tensions at the factory. Whites and blacks were equally enraged by what happened. We’ve had a steady stream of food coming into the house. May might never have to cook again. And Jeremy has been receiving so many letters. Even the employees who can’t write have had someone transcribe a letter for them. They all want him to know how badly they feel. It’s really quite remarkable. I guess it’s just more evidence that adversity can bring people together.

Please give everyone there my love. I have to close now so that Matthew can take this letter with him.

I love you dearest daughter,

Abby

All the women clapped enthusiastically. “That’s wonderful news!” Elizabeth cried.

“Something else to celebrate!” Alice agreed. She waved everyone toward the kitchen. “Let’s carry the food out onto the porch. I don’t want to miss a minute of the fun.”

Matthew gasped when he walked into the kitchen. “Where in the world did all this food come from?” He could hardly believe the piles of fried chicken stacked on platters, surrounded by bowls of potato salad, fruit salad, and biscuits. Two apple pies completed the spread. He stared at the women. “You’re all medical students. How did you have time to make all this?”