Shifted By The Winds (59 page)

Thomas frowned. “You definitely should not be comfortable with her attitude,” he said. “All of you are in danger the moment the area plantation owners discover you are planning to emulate Cromwell policies. It’s important she understands that.”

Perry sobered. “I believe she does,” he said. “But then, Carrie also knows her beliefs put her in danger. From what I have observed, she has a part of her that welcomes the challenge even though she understands the possible consequences.”

Thomas relaxed. “You’re right.” He had lost track of the times Carrie’s independence and strong will had put her into situations that terrified him, but he also knew it was what made her who she was, and he would not want her to ever change. If Louisa was becoming the same kind of woman, he must simply support her. “I’m not trying to frighten you.”

“No,” Perry responded. “I don’t believe you are. I believe you are trying to ensure we go into this situation with our eyes wide open.” He paused. “I also believe you want to make sure her father doesn’t come back from his grave and haunt you for not stopping his daughter from taking this foolish course of action.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

It was Thomas’ turn to chuckle. “I’m afraid you’re more right than I care to admit.” He decided it was time to change the topic of conversation. It was clear Perry and Louisa were making the decision they believed was right for them. He would be nothing but glad they had found a way to save Blackwell. Only time would show the results. He turned to Moses. “Have you been staying up to date on current events?”

Moses nodded. “Yes, thanks to Felicia, and thanks to all the papers and journals you send. She gives us our current events briefing every night at dinner.” His eyes were bright with pride.

Thomas smiled fondly, remembering Felicia’s excitement when he had insisted she call him Uncle Thomas from now on. “That little girl is quite something. She drilled me with questions yesterday morning before everyone arrived for the Harvest Celebration. It is hard to remember sometimes that I am talking to an almost eleven year old little girl. I find she has a better grasp of the political situation in this country than most adults I know.”

“She has reason to,” Moses said somberly.

“Very true,” Thomas agreed. “You’re aware of the election coming up?”

“The one that will happen in exactly ten days?” Moses asked. “The one that, if all goes well, will strip President Johnson of his power and give it to the Radical Republicans? The one that will hopefully change things in our country so that blacks can actually have an opportunity to create a life?”

“That would be the one. I’m sorry if I implied you wouldn’t know about it,” Thomas said. “There were so many times when I was running the plantation that I was completely oblivious to what was going on in the government. The pressures of harvest time made that even more true.”

Moses nodded. “I wish I could have that luxury. The reality in our country demands that every black person have complete knowledge of what is happening.” He took another drink of coffee before he continued. “If Felicia wasn’t keeping us informed every night, I would be adding time to my day to make sure I stayed current with the news. If everything I’ve heard is correct, President Johnson is about to become a president with absolutely no power.”

“I believe that is true.” Thomas searched for the best way to say what he needed to say. “I don’t believe things are going to change immediately, though.” There was so much more that needed to be said, but he was feeling his way forward carefully. Fear could prepare a man, or it could paralyze him. He wanted nothing more than to prepare the two men sitting in front of him.

“I don’t believe they are, either,” Moses said. “The South has been pretty much getting its way from President Johnson since the war ended, and things are still bad for the freed slaves. Once they lose that advantage, I believe they are going to take out their anger and frustration the same way they always have—on the blacks.”

Thomas frowned. “I wish I could dispute that.”

“I wish you could, too,” Moses replied, his voice suddenly weary, “but we both know it would be a lie.”

“Things won’t just remain unchanged,” Thomas continued. “They will probably get—”

“Get worse?” Moses finished. “I expect they will. The old Confederate soldiers who have now become vigilantes are going to think they have to fight even harder to hold on to their way of life.”

“Our way of life is gone,” Perry said. “They have nothing left to hang on to. It’s time everyone understood that.”

“That may be true,” Thomas said, “but they have plans to hang on anyway. Or perhaps they have plans to build it again.”

“It will never happen,” Perry snorted. “The Old South is dead. If any of us expect to build a new life, we have to think and behave differently.”

“I wish everyone felt the way you do,” Thomas replied, “but I know that is not true.”

“Will the new government not take action to stop the vigilante groups?” Moses asked with a frown. “It sounds as if you expect the vigilantes to have a free rein.”

Thomas shook his head. “I believe the government will work to stop them, but it is going to take time. President Johnson will lose any hope of power or influence when the Congress shifts to a Republican majority after the election, but it is going to take time to pass new bills and strip the southern states of the power they believe our president has given them.”

“So now the government will once more have to take military action,” Moses said. “The North won the war, but now they are going to have to send troops into every southern state to fulfill what winning the war meant.”

Thomas nodded heavily. “I believe that is the gist of it.”

A long silence fell on the porch. Thomas watched as Amber ran from the barn with All My Heart prancing by her side, unaware of the violence in the quarters the night before. She had been sound asleep when Polly had been called out, and Polly had been sleeping in her bed when Amber awoke to come to the barn.  He smiled as her laughter rang through the morning air. He fervently wished the entire country could experience the peace of the plantation. Even more than that, he wished he could protect everyone he loved from the violence he was sure was going to continue. He had hoped the end of the war meant the end to all the fighting and fear, but it seemed to have just morphed into a different form of it. What would Amber have to deal with in the future?

“I’ll fight to protect what we have here,” Moses said finally, his voice almost harsh. “I won’t go looking for a fight, but if one comes here, I believe the vigilantes will regret it.”

Thomas had no doubt of that, but he was less confident of Perry and Louisa’s safety.

Perry seemed to read his mind. “Simon has agreed to manage the tobacco production on the plantation. Twelve of Moses’ seasonal workers have been offered the chance to join him.”

Thomas nodded. “I know about that. Robert took the letters to them this morning.”

“Yes,” Perry acknowledged. “They know I have nothing to pay them right now, but the men who have received the letters have enough to hold them until the profits from next year’s crop. The details have been laid out clearly. Each family will have a cabin that they can expand if they wish. Each man who works through the end of next season, and who does a good job, will be given forty acres of Blackwell land. The profits from the crop should give them enough to build their homes and take care of themselves through the end of the next season. We will continue to build from there. They all served with Moses,” Perry continued. “They will all be armed, and they all know the risk they are taking.”

“No more risk than they would be taking if they worked on
any
plantation in the South,” Moses said grimly. “At least now they are taking a risk while they are building a life for themselves, instead of having to endure sharecropping situations that are nothing more than white-washed slavery.”

“They know they may be targeted first because the whites will consider our plantations a greater threat to the life they are trying to protect?” Thomas asked. He was sure he knew the answer, but he still felt the need to press. It was Moses who read his mind this time.

“You’re not responsible for what happens,” Moses said. “Every man here knows the war isn’t really over. We may not have uniforms on anymore, but that doesn’t mean we’re not completely ready to protect what needs protecting. When it comes to protecting their wives and children, and their homes, I can assure you they are prepared to do so.”

“How did they handle last night?” Thomas asked.

“Many of the women and children were scared and confused, but they had good reason to be. No one expected the threat to come from within,” Moses said. “The men had already spread into the woods to fight off whatever threat was out there. When they realized it was one of their own, they still didn’t hesitate to do what needed to be done.” He reached over and put a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Thomas, you didn’t create slavery. You didn’t start this war. You didn’t have anything to do with the formation of the Ku Klux Klan and the other vigilante groups.” He paused, his eyes lit with gentle humor. “At the risk of being offensive, you need to understand you’re not actually powerful enough to take on the responsibility for the reality of our lives.”

Thomas chuckled, feeling a huge weight lift from his chest. “I do believe you’re right,” he said, realizing another layer of the onion had just been peeled away. “Thank you for reminding me.”

Moses smiled. “How long are you and Abby staying?”

“Just a few more days. We’ll head out in time to take Carrie and Janie to the train station to return to school.” Thomas was surprised by the flash in Moses’ eyes. He opened his mouth to question him, but a noise in the distance pulled his attention away. A glance down the road revealed Carrie and Robert returning home. “Thank you for the conversation, gentlemen. I have an overdue talk with my daughter to take care of now.”

Carrie felt the fatigue of too few hours of sleep, but she was too exhilarated to care. She smiled up at the three men on the porch as she and Robert rode up. “Good morning!” she called.

“How is Morah?” Moses asked.

“Remarkably well,” Carrie said. “The arnica seems to have worked a miracle.”

Rose walked out on the porch holding Hope just in time to hear the news. “Aren’t you used to my mama’s miracles by now?” she teased.

“Oh, I’m used to hers,” Carrie said, “but this is one I learned about through my homeopathic books.” She explained the situation to the men quickly.

Moses gazed at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “There is no swelling?” He shook his head. “I saw her last night.”

“Me, too,” Rose murmured. “She was so badly beaten.”

“The books I read about arnica said that the sooner you get it into someone who has been injured, the more quickly it will work.” Carrie grinned. “They were right.”

“And Dwane?” Rose asked.

“He’s fine,” Carrie said. “I don’t pretend there won’t be consequences from what his father did, but he is fine physically. He ate a good breakfast. When I left, he was snuggled up to his mama sound asleep.”

Rose smiled, but her eyes were still heavy. “Sunny…” she whispered, pulling Hope closer to her. “That sweet little girl.”

The reminder was enough to deflate Carrie’s exhilaration. “Yes,” she said sadly.

Robert sensed it was time to change the subject. “I gave the letters to all the men,” he told Moses and Perry.

Perry tensed. “And?”

Robert grinned. “Simon and all twelve men are on the way over to the plantation to check things out. They were thrilled with the opportunity. They have seen what happened here this season.”

Moses grinned. “I told you there was no reason to worry.”

Perry sagged against the porch column. “So we may actually pull this off?” He raised his eyes to his and Louisa’s bedroom. “Excuse me, everyone. I want to go tell my wife.”

“I heard.” Louisa stepped out onto the porch with a plate full of hot scones. She gave Perry a brilliant smile. “I’m going home,” she said, her eyes trained on the horizon. “My mother would probably throw up her hands and shriek, but my father is somewhere beaming with pride. He used to tell me I could be more than Mother told me I could be.” Her face twisted with something like sorrow.

Carrie watched her closely, reminded anew how far her childhood friend had come. “You didn’t believe him?”

“I didn’t
want
to believe him,” Louisa admitted. “I was rather fond of the idea of simply being a wealthy plantation wife. I never wanted to have to be involved in all the tedious details of making the money. I just wanted to manage the benefits,” she said with a smile.