Shifted By The Winds by Ginny Dye

are?” Felicia asked, her voice still a whisper.
    Rose pulled her back into a close embrace. “You are such a gift to us, Felicia. You always will be. Please know that.” She was relieved when the tension released within the little girl’s body. She was even more relieved when Felicia’s arms stole around her neck again as sobs consumed her slender frame.
    Rose held her tightly, rocking her gently, letting her cry out more of the pain she carried inside. It might take years for it to all be gone, but she would be right here to help. She had already known Felicia was a gift. Now she knew it with more certainty than ever. “I love you, Felicia,” she said.
    “I love you, too,” Felicia whispered back.

Chapter Five
     
     
     
     
    Abby walked out onto the porch, hoping for any movement of air to give her some relief. Philadelphia was brutal in the summer, but she had decided Richmond was even worse. The heat wrapped around her like a blanket and threatened to suffocate her. She stroked the velvety leaves of the magnolia tree shading the porch, trying to take her mind off how hot she was. She searched the horizon for any sign of storm clouds hovering above the surrounding houses, but the brilliant sky and blazing sun taunted her. The streets were empty. It was even too hot for the children to play. She knew they would return with the sunset, but for now it was almost deathly quiet. It seemed even the birds were hiding from the heat.
    May stepped out onto the porch with a platter. “I figured you be needing this about now, Miss Abby.”
    Abby reached gratefully for the lemonade. It was too hot for food, but she knew their housekeeper would scold her if she didn’t eat the scone she had brought. Abby picked it up and stared at it. She didn’t have enough energy to actually bring it to her mouth. She had left the factory early that day, well aware Thomas realized how miserable she was. He had encouraged her to cut the day short. She needed no persuading. The calendar would soon declare it was September. She could only hope the new month would bring a respite.
    “Hot as blazes, ain’t it?” May said cheerfully.
    Abby just looked at her.
    May chuckled but then sobered. “It’s hot, sho ‘nuff, but that ain’t what’s really bothering you.” She plucked the scone out of Abby’s hand, put it back on the platter, and set everything down on the table beside the porch swing. “You reckon talkin’ about it would do any good?” Her kind black face framed piercing eyes.
    Abby sighed. “Do you feel it all the time?”
    May crinkled her brow. “Feel it?”
    Abby nodded. “The danger,” she said dully, unable to stop staring at the shimmering horizon. “I had my share of challenges in Philadelphia, but it’s like Richmond has a black cloud hanging over it. I seem to be constantly waiting for the next horrible thing to happen.” She hated the plaintive tone in her voice, but the combination of her feelings and the oppressive heat were weighing on her. She allowed herself a moment of longing for her Philadelphia home but knew she would never leave the husband she adored. That didn’t mean she didn’t hate the feeling of always seeming to dangle on a precipice.
    “It can be tiresome,” May said quietly. The pain in her eyes said far more.
    Abby managed a tight smile. “I’m sorry, May. I feel like a whiny baby.” She sat down on the porch swing and pulled her housekeeper down beside her.
    May glanced up and down the street to see if anyone was watching, but she didn’t jump back up. After a tense moment, she settled back against the swing. “I don’t know how’s I’ll ever get used to not being treated less than,” she admitted.
    “Surely you’ve been with us long enough since the war ended,” Abby objected.
    “Eighteen months of freedom don’t hardly make up for fifty-four years of slavery,” May observed.
    “No,” Abby agreed heavily. “I don’t imagine it does.” She watched as an ornate