Candle in the Darkness - Lynn N. Austin [194]
“You can go on and lay him down now,” she said. “He’s asleep.”
“I know. I like holding him.”
Tessie’s heart swelled with love as she looked at Josiah. She cupped his face in both her hands to kiss him and felt the hard muscles in his jaw, the stubble of beard on his cheeks. She had waited for so many years for them to be together this way, and now they finally were. But when she thought of the emptiness in Missy Caroline’s heart, tears came to her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Tessie?” Josiah asked. “You thinking about Grady again?”
“No, my Grady coming home someday. I know he is.” She sat down on the floor beside Josiah, leaning against his muscled shoulder. “I keep thinking about Missy Caroline. She always looking out for you and me, all these years . . . always fighting so we can be together. Now we are—and she lost the man she love because she helping us. That ain’t right, Jo.”
“I know. But there ain’t nothing we can do.”
“She talking tonight about going off with Massa Robert. She ask me what I think. I think it’s a mistake because she don’t love him. But it breaks my heart to see her so lonely. Ain’t no other man in Richmond gonna marry her after what she done.”
“There ain’t enough men left in Richmond to marry all the girls who still alone. I watched them all die, Tessie, one right after the other.”
“When you was away at war with Massa Charles . . . he ever talk about Missy?”
“All the time. Seem like he loved Missy more than anything else in the world.”
“Do you think he still does?”
“I don’t know. I ain’t seen him since the night I carried him to the hospital.”
Tessie lifted Isaac from Josiah’s arms and laid him on the bed, patting his bottom for a moment until he fell back asleep. Then she took his place in Josiah’s arms. “Will you take me to see Massa Charles tomorrow?” she asked.
“Why? What good that gonna do?”
“I don’t know. I just want to talk to him, ask him if he still loves her. I got to try, Jo . . . for Missy’s sake. She fought for us, now I got to try and fight for her.”
“That make you happy, Tessie?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Yes, it will.”
“Then I’ll go,” Josiah said. “I’ll talk to him.”
Charles stood among the ashes of his burned-out mill and swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat. All that remained of the huge brick building was a blackened shell. Gaping holes, like empty eye sockets, showed where the windows had once been. He kicked uselessly at the rubble beneath his feet. The loss of the flour mill had killed Charles’ father. And deep in his heart, Charles wished that the skeletal walls would fall in on him, burying him among the ruins.
He had come down this morning to see if maybe the gears that turned the mill wheels were still good, to see if there was any hope of salvaging something, of rebuilding. But it took hope to rebuild, and Charles’ hope had died with the Confederacy.
An enormous ceiling beam lay across the floor, blocking his path. He bent to lift the charred wood, but he still hadn’t recovered the full use of his arm and shoulder. The beam wouldn’t budge. He kicked at it in frustration.
“Need help with that?”
Charles whirled around. Jonathan’s former slave, Josiah, stood a few feet away. Charles’ first reaction was to refuse his help. He felt bitter toward the burly Negro without knowing exactly why. But Josiah was already bending to grip the beam. Charles grabbed the other end. Josiah moved it as though it weighed nothing.
“Thanks,” Charles said. There was an awkward silence. “What are you doing down here?”
Josiah’s expression stiffened. “I’m a free man. Guess I can go wherever I want, talk to whoever I want.” Then he seemed to catch himself, and his features softened. “It’s time we had a talk about the night you was shot.”
Charles ran his hand over his face. He hated being indebted to any man—especially this one, the son of Caroline’s beloved servant. He didn’t want to be reminded of her. He wanted to forget.
“I’m glad