Author's Note: I've tried to limit the anachronisms as much as possible, but no doubt there are still many left. Also, although I did do a little research into the era, I'm by no means an historian. Please try to excuse any such inaccuracies.
*
"Sarah, it's really you!" the jubilant older woman cried as the young blond woman from the carriage emerged.
"Aunt Charlotte!" Sarah replied. The two of them hugged. Sarah couldn't help but notice how well her aunt had aged over the years. Although in her forties she looked closer to thirty. Charlotte had always been pretty, and that hadn't changed either.
"Come into the house dear. You must be tired... and hungry."
"The trip here was exhausting, Aunt Charlotte. If it's all right with you, I'd like to first sleep awhile."
"Of course dear, you can use my room. In the meantime, we'll get your belongings brought up to where you'll be staying. Have a nap. When you wake up, dinner should be ready."
When Sarah woke up it was already dark outside.
"My goodness, how long have I been asleep," she wondered. The trip from Georgia to Massachusetts had been a long, arduous one, especially the final carriage ride to Aunt Charlotte's ranch. Sarah's parents hadn't exaggerated when they said that Charlotte lived "in the middle of nowhere." Even with a map the driver had had great difficulty finding it.
That seemed appropriate for her aunt, however, as to the best of Sarah's recollection Aunt Charlotte had never been particularly well-liked by the rest of the family or even the community when she lived with them in Georgia. She had an outsider's reputation, and had become the black sheep of the family. Nevertheless, as the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures. The fighting had reached Georgia, and Sarah's parents were worried about her safety. And with that, they had sent her to live with Aunt Charlotte while they tended to their estate.
Sarah was feeling famished now. She could hear voices coming from the kitchen downstairs, so she decided to follow them. As she got closer, she could tell one of voices belonged to Aunt Charlotte. The other was of a stranger, a man.
"Good evening Sarah," Charlotte said as she entered the room.
"Um, good evening," Sarah replied, momentarily stunned. The man Sarah was speaking to was a rather tall, burly fellow in his mid to late thirties. He was also black.
"Sarah, this is Lewis, he's one of my ranch hands," Sarah said.
"Pleased to meet you miss," Lewis said.
"Likewise... sir," Sarah replied.
"Well, I need to get going Charlotte," Lewis said. "See you tomorrow."
After he left, Charlotte began bringing out some food for Sarah.
"I probably should have waken you up Sarah but you looked so peaceful I thought I would let you sleep a bit longer."
"Auntie, who is that man?"
"I told you, he works here."
"I didn't see any guest quarters on my way here."
"I don't have any. Lewis has a room here, in the house."
"Do Mother and Father know about this?" Sarah asked, stunned.
"No Milton doesn't, and I prefer to keep it that way. And as for Caroline, no, she doesn't know, but she likely suspects."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean sisters know each better than anyone else. And getting back to Milton, it's for the best that he doesn't know. He probably wouldn't have let you come here if he did."
"You're certainly right about that."
"Listen Sarah, I bought this ranch with the small inheritance I received after your grandparents passed away. It wasn't enough to have huge mansion, or guest quarters, or ranch hand quarters like you're used to at home. We live a small, simple life here. We work hard, but we're happy."
"'We,' as in you and Lewis?"
"Actually, there's also Hector and Jake. And if you must know, they're black too."
"You live all alone here, in this house, with three black men?" Sarah asked with astonishment.
"Yes, and I don't apologize for it or anything else I do in my life. I would expect better coming from the daughter of my sister. We come from a proud of line of abolitionists, Sarah, even on your father's side of the family. He and I have never gotten along well, but even I respected that about him."
"Yes, Father is an abolitionist too. The blacks that work in our house are all free. That doesn't mean, however, that he'd approve of this 'arrangement,' of yours."
"I know. Don't keep them as slaves, but otherwise still treat them like trash. That's the typical mentality of the so-called enlightened people of our time. Well sorry if you're offended that Lewis is my friend, and that I treat him and the others like human beings too."
"I'm not 'offended,' Auntie. It's just not something that's accepted by societal standards."
"That's why I don't live anywhere near society. I like to think of this homestead as a sanctuary from all that. We live here as we want to, without worrying about what other people think. Look Sarah, try staying here for a month and see how things go. If you're unhappy after that, I'll pay for your ticket home myself, with no hard feelings on my part."
---
Over the next month Sarah did the best she could to get settle in and, to her surprise, things went remarkably well. It was odd to be sharing the house with the ranch workers, but they were very nice to her and always respected her privacy. Sarah had grown especially fond of Jake, who, unlike the others he was much closer to her own age.
As Charlotte had warned her, life there was not easy, and everyone worked hard, but something about doing good, honest work seemed like the best thing for Sarah now. Despite being twenty years old and already a widower she had often felt sheltered from the "real world" living with her semi-wealthy parents, and besides, keeping busy also helped her worry less about them. A telegram she received from her mother Caroline a few days ago told Sarah they were safe, but she still worried.
One day Sarah was doing some sewing in the house, when Charlotte came in and sat down to help, striking up a conversation with her about how she was fitting in.
"Everything is fine Auntie," Sarah told her. "I think I'm going to like it here, even though I miss Father and Mother terribly."
They spoke some more about life at the homestead for a while, until Charlotte turned the conversation towards the men working there.
"I'm glad you're getting along with them Sarah, they are all so dear to me," Charlotte said.
