Free Scars of the Heart by Joni Keever

“I’ll have you know my father worked hard all his life. He spent many evenings and Saturdays at the family’s lumber mill, especially the year we thought we’d have to let the bank have it to keep the house. Times were tight, but my grandfather—”
    “And what did you do? Or did Betsy jump at your beck and call?”
    “How dare you insinuate . . . Betsy was—”
    “A Negro?” Kade crossed his arms over his chest.
    Resenting the sarcasm in his voice, Carly raised her chin a notch. “Yes, a Negro but not a slave. Papa paid her to work for us. We believe all people to be equal, not some lesser human beings because of their skin coloring. And we supported President Lincoln, God rest his soul, all through his campaign for abolition.” Carly paused long enough to catch her breath but not to let Kade resume his assault.
    “And I went to school. I studied hard so I could take over the family business someday.”
    “I’ll just bet you did, a nice school, too, no doubt. And tell me, Carl, did Betsy or any of her kin attend your fine school?”
    Carly had the eerie feeling she’d walked into an ambush. “Why, uh, what do you—”
    “Were there any Negroes at the school you went to? It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”
    Heat crept higher up her neck. “Well, no, but—”
    “But what?”
    He looked so smug, Carly wanted to claw his eyes out. “It wasn’t because of their skin coloring. It was a very expensive school. The Negroes couldn’t afford—”
    “And why couldn’t they afford to attend your school?”
    The muscles in her neck slowly coiled into knots. She’d finish a sentence with this man if it killed her! “Because they couldn’t find employment that paid well enough. That’s why.”
    “And why couldn’t they find such employment?”
    He stood there, arms crossed, eyes glinting with sardonic pleasure. “Because they were uneducated?”
    At the smirk on Kade’s face, Carly realized he’d led her headlong into a trap. She saw the picture of injustice he painted and resented his manipulation of her—the brush in the master’s hand. Refusing to crumble before him, she desperately sought an avenue of escape.
    “I thought we were discussing my family and your opinion of our shortcomings. How dare you stand in judgment when you have no idea what our life was like. We worked hard for what we had. All of us made sacrifices. Sometimes I worked afternoons and Saturdays at the mill, with Papa.”
    “That’s not work. Writing little numbers in little books and taking your money to the bank. You’re a city-slick kid from a lace-collar school where you probably learned some fancy foreign language and some fancy, big-word stories. Well, that won’t do you a bit of good out here, pup.”
    Bolting to his feet, Kade closed the space between them. “This land is for real men who aren’t afraid to sweat. Men who aren’t afraid to bleed, to die if necessary. Men who are willing to risk it all to carve out a life. And for what? To make it easy for folks like you to come along and steal it out from under our noses.”
    Dropping the jerky to the ground, Carly scrambled to her feet. She glared at the raving stranger. Anger boiled within her chest. He had no idea how hard her life had been. Even her earlier confessions couldn’t truly convey all she’d been through. He didn’t know her father . . . the way he worked to keep the business afloat. How dare he accuse her of any injustice! The people of this land were barbarians! Lawless criminals who took without asking, who had no regard for the rights of others. His people were the true savages of the world!
    Carly opened her mouth to speak her mind, but Kade’s sharp words cut her off.
    “Well, it won’t work. I won’t give up so easily what is mine. I will fight with everything left within me for the land of my birthright, even if I have to kill or be killed.”
    They stood facing each other, both breathing heavily. Carly stared into eyes like