The Widow of Rose Hill (The Women of Rose Hill Book 2), стр. 50
She watched Harriet peel and slice the carrots into a pot on the stove. Though they still had awkward moments between them, Natalie found she would like to consider Harriet a friend as well.
“Harriet,” she said, “I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I appreciate you and Moses staying on at Rose Hill. I know you could have gone with the others. It means a great deal to me that you stayed.”
The older woman met Natalie’s gaze. “Moses say this is our home. Don’t have no place else to go. Goin’ just because you can ain’t smart when you got no way to make a livin’.” She paused, seeming to measure her next words. “But that ain’t the only reason we stay.”
“Oh?”
Harriet glanced out the window, and Natalie thought she saw a tear trail down the woman’s cheek in the silent moments. “We stay,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “because this is where our boys knows where to find us … if they still alive.”
The words cut to Natalie’s soul.
Their sons. Sold off by George. Of course Harriet and Moses would stay at Rose Hill, hoping and praying the boys—men, now—would come in search of their parents. It struck her then that Negroes all across the South must hold similar hope, desperate to reunite families torn apart by slavery.
She closed her eyes, shame piercing her once again at the cruelties her own family had inflicted on two of the dearest people in her life.
“I’m sorry, Harriet,” she whispered, the words woefully inadequate.
The woman simply nodded and went back to work.
Natalie left the kitchen, the uncomfortable distance between her and Harriet as strong as ever. Laughter drifted up from the area near the barn. Natalie watched Corporal Banks swing the ax, easily splitting a log in two. Carolina sashayed over, picked up the pieces, then twirled her way to the bin situated against the barn wall and tossed them in. The young people chatted and laughed and repeated the process.
Were they the image of hope for the country’s future? A former slave and a Negro Yankee, forging ahead, determined to find happiness in the aftermath of so much pain?
She went into the house and found it blessedly silent. Eunice and Lottie had gone into town after breakfast, and she could only hope their errands took the better part of the day. Ruth and Adline had stripped beds and were now paddling the sheets in a huge caldron behind the kitchen. She’d waved to Ruth when she returned from the garden, and the timid woman waved back. Adline continued to ignore Natalie. She couldn’t blame the woman. While Ruth had been a slave on a distant plantation, Adline had been a Rose Hill slave. It would take time, she was sure, to earn the woman’s trust, if she ever did.
With Carolina otherwise occupied, Natalie decided she would beat the rugs herself. She’d never done the chore, but she’d seen servants at it often enough that she knew it wasn’t difficult. She started with the smaller rugs, carrying one to the backyard and draping it over the sturdy wooden rack that had been built for this very purpose. The rug beater hung on a peg. She took it in hand and gave the first rug a solid whack. A puff of dust floated out.
“Well, what do you know.” She looked around to see if anyone bore witness to her accomplishment. The yard was vacant. Feeling silly, for it wasn’t as though she had done a great service for the world, she set out to attack the rug with gusto.
“Ohhh.” Natalie groaned as she trudged up the stairs to her room. Her arms, legs, shoulders, neck, and back ached more than she knew was possible. Her gown and hands were filthy, and she imagined she looked worse than some dead something Ebenezer might find in the woods and drag home. But the parlor, dining room, and hall rugs were clean, by gum.
“Mama!” Samuel and Isaac ran from his room when she reached the landing. They each held wooden farm animals in their hands. “We’re playing.” He cocked his head and looked her up and down. “What’s wrong with you?”
Natalie chuckled. “Nothing that a good soak in the tub won’t cure. Does Harriet know you two are up here?”
“Uh-huh. We found a toad and was gonna scare Carolina with him, but she’s busy helpin’ that so’dier with the wood. He said we ought not scare girls ’cuz they get all willy and might cry. When is the nice so’dier gonna come back? I like him.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Moses said the mama cat that lives in the barn has babies. Can Isaac and me go see ’em?”
The running discourse finally came to an end. “Yes, you may, but don’t try to pick them up just yet. It will be a few weeks before they’ll be big enough to play. Let Harriet know you’re going outside.”
“Yes, Mama.” The boys briefly disappeared into the bedroom and came back empty-handed.
Natalie watched them run past her and stomp down the back stairs out of sight, their excited voices fading as she envisioned them hurrying from the house and racing to the barn. Little had changed for the two boys, despite everything in their lives being different. They’d been the best of friends before the Union Army brought the freedom proclamation to Texas shores, and they continued to be friends even as the people around them struggled to find a new balance in a world that seemed frighteningly unstable under their feet.
She trudged toward her bedroom at the opposite end of the hall, wondering if all the adults in the country should take a page out of the boys’ book of life. Their approach to the questions of black or white, rich or poor, seemed