Lizzie set down her bowl and spoon and hurried over. To Josephine’s surprise, she took both of Jo’s hands and gripped them in her own. “We owe you, Missy Jo. We owe you for saving our lives, and so we decided we’ll stay here and help you out until the cotton is picked, or until you can find someone else to work for you here at White Oak.”
“But . . . I thought you might be afraid to stay.”
“Tell you the truth, I am scared to stay. But Otis says it’s hard for us Negroes no matter where we go. And he says that the good Lord is looking out for us.”
“Otis is right. The good Lord has been answering all our prayers, hasn’t He?”
“Yes, ma’am. Tell your mama I’ll have her breakfast up to her as soon as the biscuits are finished.”
Jo returned to the house and went upstairs to her mother’s bedroom. She and Mary had been eating their meals with their mother since the doctor had ordered complete bed rest. But this morning, Jo found her mother out of bed and getting dressed. “Help me finish, Josephine. I want to eat my breakfast downstairs.”
“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we wait for Dr. Hunter? I thought he wanted you to stay in bed for a week.”
“Nonsense. I’m feeling much better and I’m tired of this room. A change of scene will do me good. Maybe I’ll even let the doctor take me for a carriage ride when he comes.”
Mary walked into the room a moment later and looked at their mother in surprise. “What’s going on? Why are you out of bed? And why is Daniel back from Richmond?”
A jolt of fear rocked through Josephine. “Daniel’s home? Are you sure?”
“Yes. I heard him rummaging around in his room just now. And when I was opening our bedroom curtains, I saw his horse.”
“I don’t know why he’s back,” Mother said, “but go down and tell Lizzie that we’ll all eat in the dining room. I’ll be down as soon as Josephine helps me with my hair.”
The news about Daniel made Josephine uneasy. She feared for Lizzie and Otis’s safety and worried that Mother would find out about last night. Jo couldn’t risk having her suffer any more shocks. “Shall I go knock on Daniel’s door and see why—?”
“No. Help me with my hair and we’ll talk to him together.” Mother sat down at her dressing table while Jo quickly pinned her hair in a loose chignon. They went down the hall and were about to knock on Daniel’s door when it flew open and there he stood. Josephine could barely look at him, knowing what he had tried to do to Lizzie’s family. Daniel smiled as though nothing had happened at all.
“Good morning, Mother. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes I am, in fact. But I’m wondering what you’re doing home. You’re supposed to be in Richmond.”
He shot a glance at Josephine, and she shook her head to let him know that Mother hadn’t learned about last night’s events. “I didn’t go to Richmond,” he said. “I’ve been staying with Joseph Gray for the past few days, and it gave me time to do some thinking. First of all, it isn’t right for me to take our only horse and leave you with no transportation. And . . . and second, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for upsetting you . . . for that whole misunderstanding with the slaves.”
“They aren’t slaves,” Mother said. “They’re servants.”
Tears sprang to Josephine’s eyes at her words. Mother was trying to change, she truly was.
“Anyway,” Daniel continued, “my friends and I also agreed that it wasn’t a good idea for me to leave town right now. If the Yankees come looking for me, it would seem as though I had run away, that I was guilty.”
Josephine couldn’t help thinking that Daniel was guilty. She wondered if Mother was thinking the same thing.
“I see,” Mother said.
“Finally, I still don’t feel right about leaving you here all alone. So . . . may I please come home? Will you forgive me and give me another chance?”
Josephine eyed her brother with suspicion. Should they trust him—could they trust him? Would Mother welcome him back if she knew what he’d tried to do to Lizzie’s family? The memory of it chilled Josephine, and she fought the urge to run down to the kitchen and warn Lizzie to take her family and run. They needed to go somewhere far away from here.
“Yes, of course I’ll forgive you,” Mother said. She pulled him close for a quick hug. “Now let’s all go downstairs and eat our breakfast, shall we?”
But before they reached the top of the stairs, they heard Mary shouting up at them from the front foyer. “Daniel, come quick! It’s . . . it’s the Yankees! Dozens of them! And they’re coming here!”
Mother’s knees seemed to go weak, and she leaned against Josephine for support.
“Let me take you back to your room, Mother.” Josephine wrapped her arm around Eugenia’s waist. “The doctor said you can’t risk getting upset. If . . . if it’s Mr. Chandler, I’ll speak with him.”
“Stay here, all of you,” Daniel said. “I know how to deal with Yankees.”
“No!” Mother said sharply. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but we’re going to deal with them my way, not yours. Help me down the stairs, Josephine. I want to hear what they have to say. I’ll be more upset if I’m left up here to wonder what’s going on.”
Josephine held one of her mother’s arms and Daniel took the other as they guided her down the stairs to the front door. When Mary opened it, a sea of blue uniforms was rapidly approaching down the long lane. “They have no right,” Daniel murmured. “This is our property. . . .”
“Hush!” Mother said. She was clinging to his arm, keeping him from running forward. “Let’s hear what they have to say.”
The troop halted a hundred yards from the house, and a single rider in civilian clothes broke from the pack to ride out ahead of them.
Alexander.
Josephine could tell it was him by the set of his shoulders and the way he sat in the saddle, even before he drew close enough to see his face. Her heart began to pound so hard she thought it might burst. He had returned, just as he’d promised. But judging by the troop of soldiers with him, this wasn’t going to be a friendly visit. Alexander was here to arrest Daniel. He hadn’t found a way for the two of them to be together, after all. He couldn’t possibly arrive with two dozen soldiers to arrest her brother and then expect her to ride away with him. How could she leave her mother under such circumstances?
Alexander stopped near the hitching post and dismounted. “Good morning,” he said pleasantly. He looked up at them, standing in a row on the front porch. He must see that this was where Josephine had to be—with her family.
“Forgive me for bringing so many men,” he said. “It wasn’t my idea, I assure you. And I’m not armed.” He lifted his arms and spread his hands, then let them drop to his sides again.
“What do you want?” Daniel asked.
“I simply want to talk. And I can say what I need to say right here. I understand how you might feel about having a Yankee in your home. But I’m glad to see that all of you are here. I would like your entire family to hear what I have to say.”
“Leave my mother out of this. She hasn’t been well.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. It isn’t my intention to upset you, Mrs. Weatherly, believe me. And if you don’t mind, I would like your two servants, Otis and Lizzie, to come and hear this, too.”
Daniel started to protest, but Mother cut him off. “Mary, please ask Lizzie and Otis to come here.” Mary nodded and hurried off to fetch them.
Josephine was relieved that Mother hadn’t sent her on the errand. She had begun to tremble so violently that she didn’t think she could take a step. She clung to her mother’s arm, waiting, wondering what Alexander was up to. She searched his face for a clue, but he hadn’t once met her gaze as he’d addressed her mother and brother. Why did he want Lizzie and Otis? Alexander couldn’t possibly know about last night’s events. If Lizzie told him now, it would create a terrible scene, and the doctor had said that Mother’s heart couldn’t bear the strain of more bad news
.
“Let’s go down below and talk,” Mother said as they waited. She led the way down the porch steps, still clinging to Jo’s arm. Daniel stayed right beside them. Jo stared at Alexander, but he still didn’t meet her gaze. “Trust me,” he had said. Could he really find a way for them to be together with her family’s blessing?
Mary finally returned with Otis and Lizzie, walking around from the rear of the house because Otis would never dare to go inside. He was holding Lizzie’s hand, and they both looked frightened half to death. “Good morning, Mr. Chandler,” Otis said.
“Good morning, Otis. Thank you for coming to meet with us. I wanted you and Lizzie to hear what I came to say, since it involves both of you, as well. So, Mr. Weatherly.” Alexander took a step closer to Daniel, looking him in the eyes. “I’m here to try to reach an agreement with you. I believe I have enough evidence to convict you of at least some of the charges the government might hold against you: the two fires at the bureau office, the destruction of the school. But as of this moment, the evidence lives or dies with me. I haven’t filed any reports with my superiors in Richmond. Until I tell them otherwise, the fires may have been accidents, not part of a plot against my life. I’m willing to make sure those reports are never filed if I can have your word that the violence will end right now.”
Mother seemed to sway. “Wait . . . You would drop all of the charges against my son?”
“Yes, ma’am. As long as Mr. Weatherly swears to me that he and his friends will make peace with the Negroes. That there will be no more night riders. That they’ll allow the freedmen in your community to settle down here, be given jobs and homes here, be treated fairly. Will you agree to that, Mr. Weatherly?”
Daniel took a long time to reply. He was the larger and stronger of the two men and could probably overpower Alexander. But two dozen Yankee soldiers were watching from the end of the lane. “What game are you playing?” Daniel finally asked.
“I’m not playing any game. I’m offering you amnesty. I’m trying to reach a truce. Now, you may have noticed I didn’t mention the violence in the woods or the two Negroes who were shot and killed. That’s a separate issue, and it’s why I asked Otis to hear what I have to say.” Alexander turned to face him. “Otis, if you and the others want to come forward with evidence and press charges against the men who were responsible, then I’m honor-bound as a bureau agent to proceed with an indictment and see the guilty parties are punished. Is that what you’d like me to do?”
Jo held her breath. What would he say? Daniel had tried to kill his entire family last night, and if Otis wanted revenge, this was his chance to get it. Alexander couldn’t possibly know what he was asking. Jo would be forced to testify against her brother—or watch him get away with another attempted murder.
“Well . . .” Otis said slowly. “I believe that sending people to jail is only going to make things worse. There will be more killing, more revenge, and it won’t bring the two dead men back. No, sir. I would like to make sure the dead men’s families get some help so they can get by without their husbands and fathers. But the Almighty says that vengeance belongs to Him, not us. He says He’ll pay back the guilty on Judgment Day if they don’t repent. If you can forgive them, Mr. Chandler, then I guess I’m satisfied to wait and let God do the punishing, too.”
“So, Otis, if we can figure out a way to compensate the families, are you content to make peace?” Alexander asked.
“They have to let us have our school, too,” Lizzie said.
“Yes, that’s a good point. The school must be part of the arrangement.” Alexander turned back to Daniel. “Can you agree to these terms, Mr. Weatherly? Otis and I will agree not to pursue any indictments if you agree to end the violence and live in peace.”
“Why would you do that?” Mother asked. “I don’t understand.”
“It must be some sort of trick,” Daniel said.
“It isn’t a trick. It’s called grace, and it’s what Jesus came to offer all of us. He forgives us even though we’re guilty. He lets us have a brand-new start. That’s what I’m offering you. We can forget the past and start all over again, beginning right now. We can make different choices this time.”
“I haven’t asked you for mercy,” Daniel said.
“That’s true. But I’m offering it to you anyway. There’s a beautiful passage in the book of Revelation, where Jesus talks about the end of time when God will wipe away all the tears from our eyes. He says there will be no more death or sorrow or pain—all those things will be gone. And He says, ‘Behold, I make all things new.’ We’ve experienced enough pain and sorrow for one lifetime, haven’t we? I’m offering you a chance to make all things new. If I can forgive you for burning down my office and trying to kill me, maybe you can finally forgive me for being your enemy during the war. If Otis can forgive you and your friends for beating him and destroying the school, then maybe you can forgive them for wanting to live free lives. . . . But if you’d rather not accept grace, we can continue this war and all the suffering that comes with it. It’s up to you, Mr. Weatherly.”
Josephine could see that Alexander’s words had moved Daniel. If only he would swallow his pride and make peace.
Mother had tears in her eyes, too. “Daniel, do it,” she whispered. “You said you wanted to end the cycle of violence, that you wanted a way out. This is your chance.”
“Why—?” Daniel had to pause to clear his throat. “Why would you show mercy? What’s the catch?”
“When God offers us grace and mercy, the only stipulation is that we repent. That we turn around and move in a new direction, living by His laws from now on to show Him our gratitude.”
“And then . . . everyone will just walk away as if none of this ever happened?”
“Yes, Mr. Weatherly. That’s right. So . . . will you agree?” He extended his hand for Daniel to shake. A long moment passed as everyone seemed to hold their breath. Jo glanced at Otis and Lizzie and saw the fear and suspense on their faces, too. Finally, Daniel reached out and accepted Alexander’s hand.
“I agree,” he said softly. He looked as broken as he had on the day he arrived home from the war. “I-I still don’t understand why you would do this, though. What’s in it for you?”
Alexander smiled the shy grin that Josephine had grown to love. “I understand why you might be suspicious,” he said. “And I admit that I do want something else in return along with an end to the violence. I believe that a person’s actions reveal their character, and so I hope that my actions will show I’m not here to hurt any of you. That I’m a God-fearing man who would like to help you rebuild your lives. If you can bring yourself to trust me, I’ll be in a position to throw myself at your mercy and ask you for something in return.”
“What?” Daniel asked.
“I’m in love with Josephine.”
Her heart began to race. Alexander looked at her for the first time and the whole world could have seen his love for her shining in his eyes. “I would like to ask for her hand in marriage—if she will have me, that is.”
“Yes!” she said, but it came out in a whisper, her heart too full of hope and joy to speak.
“Your marriage will never be accepted in this town,” Daniel said. “You’ll both be despised. Shunned.”
“I know . . . I’m not coming back here to work. That’s why I’m no longer in uniform. Another bureau agent will be in charge from now on. I have accepted a job up north, where I promise to make a good home for Josephine.”
“You seem like a good man, Mr. Chandler,” Mother said. “Josephine has already told me that she loves you, too. I think we should accept his proposal, Daniel.”
“But it’s not proper to just send her away with him.”
“I don’t expect you to, Mr. Weatherly. We owe it to Josephine to give her time to consider my marriage proposal and to think about what it will mean for her and for her future. I’m working in Richmond, for the time being, and I understand you have family there. If she
were to stay with them for a while, we could spend time courting properly. Then if she’s willing, the army chaplain will marry us.”
Josephine didn’t need time to think. She longed to run to Alexander and throw herself into his arms. But she could see the wisdom in waiting, for her family’s sake.
“Daniel will take her to Richmond,” Mother said. “My sister, Mrs. Charles Greeley, lives on Church Hill.” Josephine squeezed her mother’s arm, her heart brimming with joy. “And, Mr. Chandler,” Mother added, “I suggest you leave the soldiers behind when you come to court my Josephine.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning broadly. “Yes, ma’am, I will.” He turned and mounted his horse. No one seemed able to move as they watched him ride away. Then they all looked around at each other—Mother and Daniel and Mary, Lizzie and Otis—and it seemed to Josephine that a miracle had just happened here today at White Oak.
37
AUGUST 14, 1865
Lizzie folded Missy Josephine’s worn-out skirt and tucked it into a satchel. It was the skirt she always wore when she helped out in the garden, and the memory of all the things Missy had done for Lizzie and her family brought unexpected tears to her eyes. “I sure am going to miss you, Missy Josephine.”
“I know. Me too.” Missy Jo’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever get back to White Oak again, Lizzie.”
“This place won’t be the same without you.”
Missy exhaled as if pulling herself together. “Thank you for taking the time to help me pack.”
“That’s okay. It didn’t take no time at all.” Missy didn’t have much in the way of belongings, but she looked all around the bedroom just to be sure. “You have everything?” Lizzie asked before closing the satchel.
“Yes, I think so.” She turned to Lizzie and took her hands in her own for a moment. “Listen, Daniel will be staying with me in Richmond for several months, working with my uncle. You’ll be safe.”
“I know, Missy Jo.”
Otis would drive them there and stay overnight, then drive the carriage back home alone tomorrow. Lizzie remembered the long months he had been away during the war and how much she had worried, wondering if she would ever see him again.