Healing Grace (34 page)

Harry didn’t take the picture. Instead he said slowly, “I kept it in my pocket. I had it with me that night at the Klan rally. I had it with me during our meetings at the barn, and every raid we went on. In prison I used to take it out and spend hours looking at it. I carried it with me all the time. That’s why it’s in such bad shape.”

“You can keep it, Harry, if you want it back,” Nathanial said and again he tried to hand the photograph over.

“I don’t want it back,” Harry said. “I want you to see something in the photograph that you missed.”

“It’s just a picture of you and me.” Nathanial shrugged.

“It’s more than that. Do you remember the photographer told us not to smile? He said stand still and stare straight ahead. We tried. We both tried, but we couldn’t. Do you remember? Do you see now what you missed?”

“It’s just a picture, Harry,” Nathanial said.

“No, it’s not. Look at it again.”

“What are trying to say, Harry?” Nathanial murmured.

“That note I left you at the inn… I hope you destroyed it. Writing that note was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, just as I know letting me go is killing you. Look at the picture, Nathanial, and see what you missed.”

Nathanial did it. He stared at the photograph, at his own contented expression, at Harry’s joy-filled smile, and as he stared, Harry’s voice rose to surround him. In the tempest of senses overwhelmed, it was no surprise that his beloved had done it again, swooped in to capture his essence and bring him back to life…

“Like darkness to light, a blind man finds sight,

An old portrait shared, and in verse declared,

What conquers all, can never fall,

Though shadows loom, the rose still blooms,

As cold turns to heat, a dead heart begins to beat,

From the past we’ll rise, to swallow paradise,

And end this crushing game, for we have e’er been the same.”

“A mistake? Is that what you call it?” the colonel asked.

“Yes, sir,” the at-attention cadet said. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

The colonel turned on his heel and went to the desk, but he didn’t sit. Instead he grabbed paper and pen, and leaned over. He wrote a brief note, folded the page and returned to the cadet. For a moment he stood there, but he didn’t glare threateningly. He didn’t say how disappointed he was, or start spouting a lecture about honesty and honor. He didn’t even feign anger.

Resignedly he handed the folded paper to the cadet and said, “Take this to Sergeant Duncan. Dismissed.”

Sam held the door until the cadet was through and closed it lightly behind him. As he turned around, he grinned and said, “I thought for sure you were going to expel him, sir.”

“Have you ever known me to expel anyone?” the colonel asked absently.

“Yes, sir. You’ve let eight go, sir, over these last three years.”

“Hmm,” the colonel murmured as he moved to the window.

Anyone else would have thought the colonel was simply enjoying the view of the pristine academy grounds, but Sam knew better. And Sam’s attempt at levity, which should have provoked laughter, had fallen flat.

Ever since they’d returned from Tennessee six weeks ago, it had been this way. The colonel didn’t make fun of things. The few infrequent chuckles that came out of him were forced. There had been no trips to the swimming hole, no horse races through campus fields, no spiking the coffee with whiskey. For the first time ever, Sam had won a chess match. Colonel Grace’s assertive drive that had kept Sam constantly on his toes before, was gone.

Etienne Grace’s altered state should have made Sam’s life easier. And it did, but oddly Sam wasn’t happy. He wanted the old colonel back, affliction and all. Even those episodes, though less frequent, were different. Sam would have preferred the yelling and incoherent ramblings any day over the welling emotion he’d now witnessed several times.

The clock on the wall chimed, reminding Sam that he didn’t have time for lamenting. Not right then. “Colonel, sir, we need to go,” he said.

“Go where?” Colonel Grace didn’t turn from his window lookout.

“Don’t you remember, sir? Sadie is coming in on the train this afternoon. We’re meeting her at the station.”

“Oh. Yes.” The colonel sighed. “Can’t you go alone?”

“I could, but sir, Sadie has uprooted everything to come here to the teacher’s college. She’ll have a number of bags with her. These will need to be unloaded from the train and then taken by wagon to Washington.” Boldly Sam tacked on, “You did agree to help, sir.”

“Surely you can handle a few bags by yourself,” the colonel said. “And you know how to drive a wagon.”

Sam had to scramble. “Well…
er
… you see, sir, I understand she’s also bringing a horse.”

“A horse? What for?”

“I’m not sure about that. But her last letter said she’s bringing a horse. I really could use the extra set of hands, sir.” Then thinking quickly, Sam added, “Oh, that’s right, she said the horse is a gift. For…
er
… Reverend Nash. From Mr. Emerson.”

“Why don’t you pick a cadet to go with you?” the colonel suggested.

“I could, sir, but not without disrupting classes. They’re in the afternoon session now.”

The colonel moved from the window and let out another long sigh. “So what you’re saying is there’s no way for me to get out of going with you?”

“I prefer to think of it as not breaking your promise, sir. It’s a matter of honor, you see.” Sam smiled.

“Ha ha!” The colonel rolled his eyes. “Alright, Sam. But you owe me.”

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

With help from the stable hands, it didn’t take long for Sam to get a team of four hitched and ready. He’d picked one of the academy’s larger wagons. It had a canopy top and two rows of bench seating. The colonel was waiting on the stoop in front of the office building when Sam pulled around.

“How much luggage do you think Sadie will have?” the colonel said, brows pursed, as he climbed up onto the bench next to Sam.

Sam could have chuckled at the colonel’s expression. As it was, he had to turn his head to hide a smile. Feigning remorse, he intoned, “It was the only wagon clean enough, sir.”

From there, it would take about a half hour to reach the train depot. Sam tried to make conversation, speaking of other traffic and the pleasant climate—it wasn’t terribly hot for an August day, which was good considering they were both in full military dress. But no matter how hard he tried he wasn’t successful at changing the colonel’s taciturn demeanor. Then again, these days he never was.

It was a relief when finally they turned into the massive parking area near the platform. They were early. A quick stop in the station house confirmed Sadie’s train wasn’t expected for another quarter hour. Sam came out of the building to find the colonel leaning against a post, staring at distant clouds, the same way he’d stared out his office window. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

“No delays have been reported, sir,” Sam told him. “They’ll, I mean,
she’ll—
Sadie—
er
… and the horse, I mean, will be here soon.”

“Alright, Sam,” the colonel said blankly.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait. They waited and waited, and Sam could have sworn what should have been minutes turned to hours. It didn’t really, but it sure felt that way. No sound could have been better to his ears than the distant chug of the steam engine, except perhaps the blaring whistle that accompanied it.

Although the colonel didn’t move, Sam straightened and strode through the passel of other lingerers to where he could better view the tracks and the approaching train. It came crawling into the stop, whistle blaring again, steam puffing from the wheels like smoke.

Sam didn’t know if, due to her race, Sadie had encountered difficulties. She could have been relegated to a separate passenger car, or worse, made to stow away with the baggage. This was merely one of the reasons Sam had wanted Colonel Grace to come along. If trouble ensued, one word from such an authoritative figure would settle it.

Here in the nations’ capital, Sadie wouldn’t experience the bigotry quite as badly as she had in Tennessee. At least Sam hoped not. Of course, that didn’t mean that people here weren’t as predisposed. It meant that they did a better job of disguising it. The whole issue, in Sam’s opinion, was a sad commentary on this country he so loved.

People were coming off the train, white women, men, children. Sam hadn’t realized quite how nervous he would be, but he was nervous, so much so, his palms were clammy. If he could have, he would have wiped them on his trousers. Such indecorous behavior, however, would be unseemly for a lieutenant in uniform, so he refrained. He just hoped, when Sadie shook his hand—
if
she shook his hand—she wouldn’t notice.

More white people stepped down from the train. A man, another man, another man, a woman. And then… there she was! Sadie!

The smile that lit Sam’s face was enough to make his jaw hurt, and yet he couldn’t quell it no matter how hard he tried. He pressed through the crowd, his arm waving to get her attention, though it wasn’t necessary. She’d already spotted him. She was looking right at him. He couldn’t believe it. She was here!

And golly, but she looked pretty… and so refined. Gone was the drab cotton dress with apron covering. In its place she wore lace and shimmering rose-colored satin. Instead of plaits in her hair, she’d done it up in one of those fancy chignon-type things that ladies liked, with this little hat perched on top. Dangling over her arm was a small matching reticule. Oh my…

“Sadie! Sadie!”

The high-pitched holler was accompanied by boot soles pounding the deck boards. Sam spun to see a mop of blond hair skirting between bodies, and rudely brushing into some, too.

“Hi, Sam!” Archie hollered as he barreled past, but he didn’t spare Sam a glance. “Sadie!”

Sam watched his little brother launch into Sadie’s arms, and Sadie, laughing, caught him up. “Look at you!” she said. Then more soberly, she added, “I missed you, kid.”

“I missed you, too,” Archie hummed.

His little brother was clinging so tightly, it didn’t look like he ever wanted to let go, and Sadie’s embrace wasn’t any less fierce. Perhaps they were making a spectacle, but neither seemed to care.

Fleetingly Sam wondered if he would ever be so lucky. There was no time, however, for wishful daydreams.

“Lieutenant Murphy,” a tall blond man who’d come up beside him said. He held out a hand so Sam shook it.

“Reverend Nash.” Sam nodded. “It’s good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“I wasn’t going to, but Archie couldn’t wait. Now I see why,” the reverend gestured to the still embracing marvel, then looked down at the small boy at his side. “Franklin, you remember Archie’s brother, Lieutenant Sam, don’t you?”

“Yes, suh,” the child murmured, though shyly he inched his way behind the reverend’s leg.

Sam lowered to his haunches. “Hi, Franklin. How are you?”

“Yes, suh,” Franklin said, tucking even farther behind the reverend.

Sam settled for giving the slight, frightened child a gentle pat on the shoulder. As he straightened, Reverend Nash asked, “Is Etienne here? I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s right over there,” Sam turned to point toward the colonel’s pole rest.

At the same moment a woman from the crowd let out a loud shriek. It was followed by a man’s bellow, “Catch that dog!”

Someone else yelled, “Whoa, dog!”

Above the din, Archie hollered, “Hey, that’s Rusty Rex!”

Sure enough, a ball of black and tan fluff, dragging a leash, was skirting the crowd faster than Archie had, except the dog was coming
from
the train, rather than going toward it.

Frantically Sam’s eyes shot back toward the passenger cars. He saw Archie and Sadie, no longer hugging, but still close. Sam’s head whipped back. The colonel remained leaning against his post, although now his head was bowed as if something on his boots was of supreme interest. Sam turned to the train again, and this time she was there, stepping down onto the platform.

Constance Pruitt.

And the colonel was completely oblivious.

Rex, however, was not. As if he’d smelled his target from the train, the dog bee-lined straight to the colonel.

Sam saw Colonel Grace startle, and heard his sudden, “What in the world? Rex?” The colonel bent to pet the dog and catch the leash, but he wouldn’t have needed to. Rex obviously wasn’t going anywhere. He was too enthralled jumping about and trying to lick the colonel’s face.

“How did you…? What are you doing here… oooh…”

The colonel’s voice—or rather that funny groan-like noise he made—faded to silence. Sam’s gaze darted back to the train, to Constance. She was moving through the crowd right toward the colonel.

A series of successive thumps, loud enough to be heard over the hubbub, rang out. Sam spun again and discovered the colonel’s pole was bare. In that infinitesimal flash of time while Sam had looked at Constance, the colonel vanished!

“Oh dear!” a woman bellowed.

“Are you okay, sir?” a man said loudly. “Sir? Are you okay?”

“Must be heatstroke,” someone said.

“Help!” another woman shouted. “We need a doctor! Help! A soldier fainted over here!”

Frantically Sam pushed his way through people—how had the crowd suddenly become so dense?—toward the colonel’s pole. The only thing he could think was that Rex, in his exuberance, had knocked the colonel down.

Constance, however, beat Sam there. All he could do was watch her hunker down and grab Rex’s leash.

“Eddy,” she said softly while holding out her free hand. “Why are you on the floor?”

Etienne wasn’t completely prone. He was on his rump, but awkwardly propped against the pole. And he hadn’t had a heatstroke, or fainted, because his eyes were open.

“Why… why are you here?” he choked.

Sam couldn’t believe it, or maybe he could, but he’d never heard the colonel sound so wretched. Constance, however, wasn’t.

“Well, you see,” she said. “In these last few weeks, I came to realize something. Something important. When one has been hurt, trusting again isn’t easy, and scars from past hurts can often cloud judgment and cause flawed conclusions.”

“Did I do that?” the colonel murmured.

“You did. But so did I,” she said. Then she went on, “I witnessed something that’s had a profound impact on me. The Emersons and Graces offered forgiveness in a situation where it wasn’t necessarily warranted, and the result has brought peace to everyone involved. From this I learned that by withholding my forgiveness over a grievance not nearly as severe, I made a grave mistake. Eddy, you orchestrated it all. And for that, I will always adore you. How can I not?”

The last came out of her as a whisper. It took a moment for her voice to rise again.

“So you see, six weeks ago, I had an affliction in my hand. It did something it shouldn’t have done. But I want to assure you it’s cured now. If it’s not too late, and you still want it, I’d like to give it to you.”