you.”
Priscilla pulled away, shaking her head. “No, don’t.” She glanced at Eugenia’s daughters and dropped her voice to a whisper. “We . . . we can no longer afford to pay anyone.” She leaned against Eugenia as her tears flowed.
Eugenia motioned for her girls to leave the kitchen. “Go read to Harrison now,” she told them, shielding her friend from further shame. How horrible it must be to suffer such distress, much less have others witness your breakdown. She held Priscilla tightly, rocking her in her arms. “Shh . . . shh . . . Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“No, it won’t. I can’t go on any longer, Eugenia. I’m not as strong as you are. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Eugenia pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to her. “First of all, let’s leave this mess and go sit in your parlor.” She wrapped her arm around Priscilla and guided her upstairs to the front room, feeling a shiver of dread when she noticed how frail Priscilla’s body felt beneath her well-worn dress.
“There, isn’t this much better?” Eugenia asked after opening the drapes and sitting down beside her on the sofa. Priscilla dried her eyes with the handkerchief.
“I think Harrison is dying.”
“Dying? Did Dr. Hunter tell you that? What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know . . . nothing that anyone can see. But he’s lost his will to live and I don’t know how to help him.”
“Daniel seems very discouraged, too. It’s only natural after everything they’ve been through. But our boys are young. They’ll—”
“I can’t go on, Eugenia. If Harrison dies, I’ll have to sell this place.”
“Don’t talk that way,” she said, gripping Priscilla’s hands in her own. “He isn’t going to die, and you cannot sell your land. It’s all we have. Besides, Daniel says the Yankees are the only ones who can afford to purchase property these days, and they’ll take advantage of you, cheating you out of what your land is really worth.”
Priscilla sat with her head lowered, gazing down at their clasped hands. “What good is land?” she asked. “Harrison will never be able to oversee the planting himself. And all our slaves are gone. How will we live if we don’t plant crops? I don’t know what else to do except sell everything and move to Baltimore to live with my sister.” She finally looked up at Eugenia. “She offered to helpme take care of Harrison. I just can’t do it by myself now that the engagement has been called off and Emma Welch has left.”
Eugenia felt a stab of anger, not toward Priscilla or Emma but at the prospect of yet another defeat. Priscilla Blake was her dearest friend, and if she gave up and moved away it would be another loss in Eugenia’s life, another victory for the Yankees. She would not let them take her friend. Or her land. Or Harrison.
“Listen now. You need help, Priscilla. Will you accept help from me until Harrison is back on his feet and—” She stopped, appalled by her poor choice of words. Harrison would never be back on his feet. “Forgive me, dear. I meant to say, until things can return to normal.” But Priscilla seemed too distraught to notice the error.
“I don’t believe things ever will be normal. Not after all we’ve lost.”
“Nonsense. Of course they will. It’s only a matter of time. When the slaves get hungry enough, they’ll come to their senses and go back to work. Daniel says they might pass a law that Negroes must prove they are gainfully employed or be arrested as vagrants. The Yankee soldiers will soon be gone. I understand that many of them have left already. We will recover what we’ve lost, Priscilla.”
“Except for our loved ones. Nothing will ever bring them back.”
“I know,” Eugenia murmured. “I know.” She pulled Priscilla into her arms again to hide her own tears, not daring to cry.
“I wish this war had never happened,” Priscilla wept. “I wish we could have
Priscilla pulled away, shaking her head. “No, don’t.” She glanced at Eugenia’s daughters and dropped her voice to a whisper. “We . . . we can no longer afford to pay anyone.” She leaned against Eugenia as her tears flowed.
Eugenia motioned for her girls to leave the kitchen. “Go read to Harrison now,” she told them, shielding her friend from further shame. How horrible it must be to suffer such distress, much less have others witness your breakdown. She held Priscilla tightly, rocking her in her arms. “Shh . . . shh . . . Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
“No, it won’t. I can’t go on any longer, Eugenia. I’m not as strong as you are. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Eugenia pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to her. “First of all, let’s leave this mess and go sit in your parlor.” She wrapped her arm around Priscilla and guided her upstairs to the front room, feeling a shiver of dread when she noticed how frail Priscilla’s body felt beneath her well-worn dress.
“There, isn’t this much better?” Eugenia asked after opening the drapes and sitting down beside her on the sofa. Priscilla dried her eyes with the handkerchief.
“I think Harrison is dying.”
“Dying? Did Dr. Hunter tell you that? What’s wrong with him?”
“I don’t know . . . nothing that anyone can see. But he’s lost his will to live and I don’t know how to help him.”
“Daniel seems very discouraged, too. It’s only natural after everything they’ve been through. But our boys are young. They’ll—”
“I can’t go on, Eugenia. If Harrison dies, I’ll have to sell this place.”
“Don’t talk that way,” she said, gripping Priscilla’s hands in her own. “He isn’t going to die, and you cannot sell your land. It’s all we have. Besides, Daniel says the Yankees are the only ones who can afford to purchase property these days, and they’ll take advantage of you, cheating you out of what your land is really worth.”
Priscilla sat with her head lowered, gazing down at their clasped hands. “What good is land?” she asked. “Harrison will never be able to oversee the planting himself. And all our slaves are gone. How will we live if we don’t plant crops? I don’t know what else to do except sell everything and move to Baltimore to live with my sister.” She finally looked up at Eugenia. “She offered to helpme take care of Harrison. I just can’t do it by myself now that the engagement has been called off and Emma Welch has left.”
Eugenia felt a stab of anger, not toward Priscilla or Emma but at the prospect of yet another defeat. Priscilla Blake was her dearest friend, and if she gave up and moved away it would be another loss in Eugenia’s life, another victory for the Yankees. She would not let them take her friend. Or her land. Or Harrison.
“Listen now. You need help, Priscilla. Will you accept help from me until Harrison is back on his feet and—” She stopped, appalled by her poor choice of words. Harrison would never be back on his feet. “Forgive me, dear. I meant to say, until things can return to normal.” But Priscilla seemed too distraught to notice the error.
“I don’t believe things ever will be normal. Not after all we’ve lost.”
“Nonsense. Of course they will. It’s only a matter of time. When the slaves get hungry enough, they’ll come to their senses and go back to work. Daniel says they might pass a law that Negroes must prove they are gainfully employed or be arrested as vagrants. The Yankee soldiers will soon be gone. I understand that many of them have left already. We will recover what we’ve lost, Priscilla.”
“Except for our loved ones. Nothing will ever bring them back.”
“I know,” Eugenia murmured. “I know.” She pulled Priscilla into her arms again to hide her own tears, not daring to cry.
“I wish this war had never happened,” Priscilla wept. “I wish we could have
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