“You shouldn’t be down on the ground, Miz Natalie. Someone else can see to them roses.”
Natalie wiped perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand while wiggling her toes to get the blood flowing again. “You know as well as I there is too much work for you and Harriet to handle alone. I must do my part, although I fear I will never be very useful.” She held up her hands, which sported dried blood on several fingers. “I had no idea a rosebush could be so ornery.”
Carolina giggled.
“Please see that our guest has some cool water while he waits,” Natalie said, moving slowly toward the back door to the house. Her toes still tingled, but thankfully, the initial pain had subsided. “I’d like to wash up before joining him.”
“Yes’m.” Carolina’s smile broadened, and she hurried away.
Natalie shook her head as she made her way to her room. She’d seen the sly looks Carolina had exchanged with Corporal Banks yesterday. Colonel Maish had seen them, too, and hadn’t appeared pleased. She supposed his dislike for her colored his view of everyone associated with her. He’d made it perfectly clear how he felt about former slaveholders. That he now had to assist her with her harvest surely irked him further.
She entered her room and cringed at her reflection in the tall mirror near the window. Her long braid was a wild mess, several strands escaping the ribbon she’d tied to the end. Now that Carolina had taken on more household chores, Natalie dismissed the young woman as her personal maid. While she still required help into her corset and gowns, she declared herself able to bathe, arrange her hair, and finish her daily toilette without assistance.
Studying the bedraggled woman in the looking glass, Natalie wondered what George would think if he could see her now. Gone was the elegant and poised lady he’d courted and married. Four years of war had taken its toll on her, worry and responsibility weighing heavily. Yet not until the slaves were freed had she realized how much work went into the running of a plantation. And not just the fields, barns, and livestock. The grand house alone required hours of labor to maintain.
Going into the bathing room adjacent to the bedroom, Natalie came to a decision. She would close off most of the rooms in the house. There was no need for Harriet, Carolina, or herself to bother dusting and cleaning rooms that no one used. Perhaps she would talk to Moses about doing the same in the barns. Surely they could move all the remaining animals into one barn, thus eliminating the need to clean dozens of stalls and corrals.
With her face and hands washed in cool water and her hair freshly combed, she felt more herself as she descended the stairs and made her way to the porch. Male laughter floated through the open doorway, followed by soft female giggles. When she appeared on the threshold, she found Corporal Banks seated on a wicker sofa while Carolina stood nearby holding a plate of Harriet’s molasses cookies. Neither of them noticed Natalie until she cleared her throat.
“Oh, Miz Natalie.” Carolina practically jumped away from the corporal. “I didn’t hear you.” When Natalie’s gaze took in the cookies and the corporal’s apparent comfort on the sofa, Carolina looked guiltily down at the plate of sweets in her hand. “I … I thought the corporal might like some refreshment.” Her declaration ended feebly.
The corporal stood, his face bearing a little guilt as well.
“Thank you, Carolina,” Natalie said. While it was strange to come upon a scene that never would have occurred had Carolina still been a slave, times had changed. “Please, Corporal Banks, have a seat.”
He did. “I’m much obliged for the cookies, ma’am.” He glanced at Carolina but didn’t let his gaze linger. “Miss Carolina was good enough to bring some when I asked about them.”
Natalie appreciated his honesty. “Help yourself, Corporal.” She indicated Carolina could set the plate on the small table near him. Carolina did, then disappeared into the house, stealing one last peek at the corporal as she went.
“I take it you have the papers I am to sign.” She moved to the chair near the sofa. When Banks rose in a gentlemanly fashion while she settled herself, she once again realized how everything in her world was altered. She had never entertained a Negro man on the porch in all her days.
“I do.” He produced a folded sheet of paper from inside his coat. “The colonel made two copies, so you could keep one here at the plantation. That way, should anyone have questions when the colonel isn’t around, you’ll have proof of the agreement.”
Surprised, Natalie noted he did in fact have two sheets of paper. That Colonel Maish had thought of her well-being pleased her far more than such a simple act should. She took the papers and read over the terms. The Union Army would hire and pay thirty freedmen of color to tend, harvest, and bale all of the cotton on Rose Hill. If she required their help getting the cotton to market, she could extend the agreement. Two Union soldiers would accompany the workers to ensure her crop was properly handled and harvested in a timely manner. Colonel Maish’s neat signature already graced each of the documents.
“My, it seems the colonel has thought of everything.”
Corporal Banks smiled. “That’s the kind of man he is, ma’am. Always thinking ahead.”
Clearly, the young corporal held his superior in admiration. “Were you with him during the war?”
He nodded. “We were in Virginia mostly, right up until
