Chapter Twenty-Six
“Do you really think staring out the window is going to make him come faster, Carrie?” Abigail’s voice, though weak, was amused.
Carrie turned to look at her mother. “I suppose not,” she sighed.
Robert was coming today. The long-awaited day had finally arrived. In her mind, she had pushed away the things that might divide them and spent the weeks caring for her mother, dreaming of the good times she and Robert had shared. She needed the memories of the good times to keep her going.
“If wishing will make him get here faster, he should be here any minute, though,” Carrie joked.
Abigail began to laugh and then doubled over in a fit of coughing. Carrie hurried to her mother’s side. Her mother had only grown weaker in the last two months. September had brought some relief from the searing heat, but Abigail’s strength had continued to fade. Carrie had done all she knew to do. Medicine didn’t work. The herbs didn’t work. The love Thomas lavished on his wife didn’t work. Daily, Carrie watched the life ebb from her mother’s eyes.
Finally, Abigail straightened and lay back against the pillows. Her face was flushed with the effort and her eyes had a glazed look, but she forced herself to speak. “I want you to go out with Robert, Carrie.”
Carrie opened her mouth to protest that she wouldn’t leave her mother’s side, but Abigail fluttered her hand to stop her.
“I’ll be fine. Her voice strained to continue. “You need to be with Robert.”
Carrie reached for her hand and pressed it gently. “Don’t, Mama. Don’t try to talk. I’ll do it. I’ll go out with Robert.” She tried to sound cheerful. “I promised him months ago that I would take him for a tour of the plantation on Granite. I’m going to keep my promise.”
Abigail smiled weakly. “That’s good,” she whispered. “You’re a good girl, Carrie.” Her voice dropped away as she leaned back and closed her eyes. Abigail’s strength had been spent.
Carrie freed her hand and once again took up her post at the window. Her gaze alternated between the bed and the road. She and her mother had grown closer over the two months they had battled her illness. She held no illusions that her mother understood her, but they had achieved a peace of sorts.
Carrie straightened and pulled the curtains back to get a better look. A bright smile spread across her face as Robert appeared in the distance. She stayed where she was for a long minute, admiring the way he rode his horse so effortlessly. Snatches of happy memories flitted across the screen of her mind. She turned away and moved to her mother’s side. Deep, even breathing convinced Carrie her mother was sleeping soundly. She tucked the blankets in a little tighter, leaned forward to plant a light kiss on her forehead, and left the room to run downstairs.
Thomas joined his daughter on the porch just as Robert pulled his horse to a stop. “Welcome once more to Cromwell, Robert!”
“Thank you, sir.” Robert vaulted easily off his tall chestnut gelding, then strode up the stairs and gripped the older man’s hand firmly. “How are you, sir? And Abigail?”
Thomas frowned. “She is no better I am afraid,” he murmured, shaking his head. “We have much to talk about. I’m glad you are here.”
“And I’m glad to be here, sir.” Eagerly, Robert turned to Carrie. He reached out to take her hand and smiled into her eyes. “Hello, Carrie. It’s good to see you again.” His eyes told her how very glad.
Carrie’s returning smile was tremulous. Now that he was actually here, she realized how much she had missed him. She gazed into his deep brown eyes and drew strength from what she saw there. “Hello, Robert. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’ll be inside,” Thomas said. “We’ll talk later.” He disappeared through the door.
Robert continued to hold Carrie’s hand as he led her over to the porch swing. Carrie sank into it gratefully. They sat for a few minutes, simply enjoying the sensation of being together again.
Carrie finally broke the silence. “How is everything at Oak Meadows?” It was a safe topic. As Robert described the wonderful harvest of hay and tobacco, she watched the handsome lines of his face. It was enough to have him there.
“It’s everything I hoped it would be, Carrie,” he said with a little-boy lilt in his voice. “There is nothing now to keep me from doing all the things I have dreamed about over the years. School is behind me, and I am free to make all the improvements and do all the expansions I’ve wanted to for so long.” Robert leaned back and stared out over Cromwell. “One day, Oak Meadows will be as glorious as Cromwell Plantation,” he predicted.
Thomas appeared on the porch again. “Dinner is served,” he announced.
For the first time in weeks, Carrie found she was actually hungry. Even her early morning jaunts with Sarah hadn’t been able to raise much of an appetite in her. Caring for her mother, and the concerns of her heart, had slowly sapped her vitality. She laughed aloud when a rumble burst forth from her stomach. “I’m starving,” she exclaimed as they walked into the dining room.
Thomas smiled. “You’re going to do my daughter good. I haven’t seen this light in her eyes since she came home.”
Silence reigned as they attacked the huge meal set before them.
When they were done, Thomas pushed his chair back and lit his pipe. “Fill me in on what’s happening in the world, Robert. I feel so isolated from everything.”
Carrie smiled and settled back to listen. She didn’t care that they were getting ready to talk politics. She was already feeling stronger. Energy coursed through her body as the food rushed to all the deprived areas, giving strength and life. Not until this minute did she realize she had been robbing her body of the very things it needed to keep going. Silently she vowed that things were going to change.
Robert settled back in his own chair, accepting the pipe Thomas extended to him. He seemed to be deep in thought as he carefully tamped his tobacco and lit it, sending small puffs of smoke into the air. He gazed at Thomas through the smoke. “I think you know what is happening, sir. Things are playing out just as we suspected.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of newspaper. “Douglas was in Norfolk at the end of August. I decided to go listen to what he was saying so I could see for myself if there remained anything to hope for.”
“And?” Thomas leaned forward.
Carrie found herself leaning forward with him. She fixed her eyes on Robert and waited for him to read the paper he was smoothing out in front of him.
Robert scanned the paper until he found what he wanted. “Douglas seems to be the only one who is trying to make a real campaign. He’s going against the popular notion that a candidate stays home and lets his supporters speak for him. He’s getting out there himself.” There was admiration in his voice. “He is a brave man. A brave man fighting a battle he is doomed to lose, however,” he conceded, discouragement thickening his voice. “When I went to hear him in Norfolk, he was speaking from the steps of City Hall.”
Robert looked down at the paper. “Here’s some of what he said.” Thomas and Carrie settled back to listen. “ ‘I desire no man to vote for me unless he hopes and desires the Union maintained and preserved intact by the faithful execution of every act, every line, and every letter of the written Constitution which our fathers bequeathed to us.’ ” Robert quit reading for a moment. “Douglas said that sectional parties, whether born in the North or the South, are the great evil and curse of this country. That it was time for men who loved the country to see whether they could not find some common principle on which they could stand and defeat both Northern and Southern agitators.”
Thomas nodded his head. “He’s right, you know.”
“Yes,” Robert responded, “but the country is in no mood to listen to him. Someone in the audience yelled out and asked him if Lincoln were to be elected, whether secession would not be justified.” Robert began to read again. “ ‘To this I emphatically answer “No.” The election of a man to the presidency by the American people, in conformity with the Constitution of the United States, would not justify any attempt at dissolving this glorious confederacy.’ ”
Thomas nodded again. “It would be folly for the South to secede before they have a chance to know Lincoln’s intent.”
“There was another question thrown at him,” Robert said. “Someone asked him where he would stand on Southern secession if the cotton states went ahead and seceded before there was some overt act against their constitutional rights.” Once again, Robert picked up the paper. “Douglas responded: ‘It is the duty of the President of the United States, and of all others in authority under him, to enforce the laws of the United States passed by Congress and as the courts expound them; and I, as in duty bound by my oath of fidelity to the Constitution, would do all in my power to aid the government of the United States in maintaining the supremacy of the laws against all resistance to them, come from whatever quarter it might.’ ”
“I’m not sure if that’s courage or insanity,” Thomas observed.
“How did the crowd react?” Carrie asked.
Robert grimaced. “Like you’d expect. They went crazy—yelling and hollering. They did not respond kindly to the idea of Douglas suggesting force would be a justified response. Finally, Douglas raised his hands and demanded that the same question be put forth to Breckenridge.”
Thomas shook his head, obviously frustrated at being so far from the actions shaping his world. Carrie knew he would not leave his wife until she was better, but the inactivity was grating on his nerves. “Was it?” he asked sharply.
“Yes,” Robert responded. “I read about it in another paper. In typical fashion, he veered near the issue and then dodged it. He insisted he had not a thought hostile to the Constitution or the United States, lambasted Lincoln for advancing unconstitutional issues, and then went on about how the truth and the right of the South would win out in the end. He was not about to confront it as directly as Douglas did. The crowd cheered and clapped while Douglas just shook his head.”
“What is Lincoln saying?” Carrie asked eagerly. She had missed the stimulation of political debate.
“Lincoln is sitting in Springfield, letting his past record speak for itself. He knows victory is his. A recent letter from Matthew said Lincoln can’t imagine that anyone really believes he holds any enmity toward the South, but he has decided not to be pulled into the fray. He is letting others do his speaking for him.”
“Like Seward, who is saying the South won’t secede.” Carrie smiled at their questioning looks. “I heard him give a speech when I was in Philadelphia.”
Robert nodded. “Seward insists the South is crying wolf. He assured the crowds over and over that the threats of the South are only empty words.”
Thomas frowned. “His blindness is going to lead straight to the secessionists getting their wish for a new country.”
“I’m afraid you’re right, sir,” Robert agreed.
Silence engulfed the table as all of them contemplated the situation in the country. Finally, Robert shook his head and pushed back from the table. “Nothing is going to happen today,” he said, “and your daughter has a promise to keep, Mr. Cromwell.”
Thomas looked up, pipe smoke swirling around his head. “What’s that?” he asked with a smile.
Carrie rose gracefully. “I promised Robert a tour of the plantation.”
Thomas nodded. “Good. I will look out for your mother. Rose is with her now, isn’t she? You two go have a good time. It’s a wonderful day for a ride.”
It was indeed a wonderful day. A brisk wind the night before had brought in just a touch of the fall that was on its way. Carrie took deep breaths of the fresh air as she and Robert strode to the barn. She could hardly control the skip in her step. For the first time in months, she was very glad to be alive.
Granite snorted and bobbed his head when he saw Carrie coming down the aisle. “Miss me, boy?” She laughed as his massive head came down and rubbed against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his solid warmth and stood there for several long minutes, pushing away the emptiness she had felt when Miles didn’t meet her as he had done all her life. She looked up finally and saw Robert watching her, a broad smile on his face. She flashed a grin at him. “I’ll have him ready in a few minutes. I told Charles that I wanted to take care of him myself today. It’s been so long.” Robert nodded his understanding and headed to the tack room to gather Granite’s saddle and bridle.
A short time later, they were riding side by side down the dirt road leading to the tobacco fields. Carrie took deep breaths of the fresh air, thrilling to the feel of her horse beneath her again. “It’s been three months,” she said disbelievingly. “I haven’t been on Granite for three whole months.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Robert open his mouth to speak, but she didn’t want to talk, she wanted to enjoy being free. She leaned forward and urged Granite into a gallop. He responded willingly, as thrilled as his mistress to be together again. Carrie laughed as she heard Robert’s startled yell behind her. Then she lost herself to the rush of wind and the pounding of hooves. Finally she pulled Granite down to an easy jog and let Robert catch up.
The two rode in companionable silence through the newly harvested fields of tobacco and eased between the tall rows of corn still waving their tasseled heads in the breeze.
“How big is Cromwell Plantation?”
“Twenty-five hundred acres,” Carrie said proudly. “My father has added five hundred since he inherited it from my grandfather.”
“What was your grandfather like?” Robert asked.
Carrie frowned. “I don’t know. He died when I was very young. My father was already running the plantation. Nobody talks about him much, but I get the idea he wasn’t much like my father.” For the next several minutes she told him stories of her and her father—how he had taught her about the crops, the horror her mother had shown when Thomas said she could have the run of the place on Granite, and the many times she had eluded him in long games of hide-and-seek.
Robert laughed. “Where did you go?”
Carrie turned and stared at him, a wild thought bursting into her mind. Did she really want to do it? She leaned forward and once more urged Granite into a gallop. “Follow me!” she yelled over her shoulder.
Granite knew where they were going as soon as they reached the far end of the northern pasture. He slowed to a ground-eating trot and picked his way through the area. Undergrowth had covered the barely discernible trail, but he knew the way.
Suddenly, the most important thing in the world to Carrie was to be at her place. The pull on her heart was something she didn’t even try to argue with. She was taking Robert to a place she had never shared with anyone, but she felt she had to go.
Granite finally broke through the woods and emerged into the clearing. Carrie’s eyes drank in the beauty. There had been no frosts to color the leaves yet, but the green was softer as summer came to an end. Colorful wildflowers danced in the breeze, and vibrant purple blackberries dotted the edge of the clearing.
Carrie slid from Granite’s back and walked to the edge of the river. She gazed out over the gentle ripples caused by the breeze. Only occasional shadows cast by fluffy white clouds obscuring the sun marred the bright azure water. Tears began to flow down her face, but they were not tears of sorrow, they were tears of release. Her spirit, confined for so long by the sick-room and responsibilities, was drinking up the peace of her special place. Gradually, she became aware of Robert by her side and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. Together, they allowed the river to perform its magic.
“Thank you,” Robert said gently, breaking the silence after a long while.
Carrie turned to him with a question in her eyes.
Robert looked down into her face. “You’ve never brought anyone here before, have you?”
“No,” she said.
“Thank you,” he repeated. “I am quite honored you would share it with me.”
Carrie realized she had let this man into a part of her heart that had been reserved just for her. She didn’t regret it. She returned his smile steadily. “You’re welcome,” she said. “This has always been my special place. I found it when I was very young.” She chuckled. “I’m glad the trees can’t talk. They hold all the secrets of my life.”
“Talk to me, Carrie. Tell me how you’re handling everything. Tell me about your mother.”
Reality edged into her magic place. She sighed. It was reality, and it was nice to have someone to talk to about it. She shook her head and turned to stare at the river again. “She’s not getting better, Robert.” Her father wasn’t around to draw hope from her words, so she opted for total honesty. “In fact, she gets worse every day. The fever did a lot of damage to her body.” She paused and tried to form her thoughts into words. “It’s like she has given up. Yes.” She nodded and turned to Robert. “She has given up. I don’t think she wants to get well. In some ways, she is making herself get worse.”
“But why?” Robert questioned. “She has so much to live for.”
Carrie nodded, but her lips were pursed in deep thought. This was the first time she had tried to give voice to her rampaging thoughts and feelings. She continued on, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “She doesn’t think so. The fever made her very weak. In her weakened condition, she has decided life is too much to handle. In spite of the fact that she tries to hide from it, she knows what is going on in the world. She is afraid everything that she has always known is about to end.” She shook her head as she struggled to express herself. “I don’t think she even knows it, but she has given up inside. Something inside of her wants to die. That’s why she’s not getting better.”
“Is that really possible?” Robert protested.
Carrie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is what I see every day. I believe Mama could get better. I believe she’s not because she doesn’t want to. She’s tired—too tired to fight anymore.”
Robert stared at her. “Does your father know this?”
Carrie shook her head adamantly. “It would kill him. He wants so badly for her to get well. I keep hoping his wanting will make her want it herself. I know she loves my father very much, but...” Her voice trailed off in frustration. She had done all she knew to do, but she didn’t know how to instill hope.
“You’ll make a wonderful doctor someday, Carrie.”
Carrie whirled around to stare at Robert. “How can you say that? I can’t even make my own mother well. What good will I be as a doctor?”
“I don’t think the sign of a good doctor is that they make all their patients well. That’s impossible. Your depth of caring, however, will ensure that each of your patients gets your best effort. Your father told me about your trips into the woods to gather herbs with Sarah. It means so much to him that you are trying so hard.”
“She’s my mother.”
“Yes, but wouldn’t you do the same for anyone if you were their doctor?” Robert gazed down at her tenderly.
Carrie nodded. “Of course.”
“Which is exactly why you’re going to make a good doctor.”
Carrie turned away, fresh tears gleaming in her eyes.
He took her shoulders and gently turned her back. “What is it?”
Carrie shook her head hopelessly. “I want with all my heart to be a doctor. I believe I have found a way I can make a difference.” Her voice took on a slightly desperate tinge. “How will it ever happen? As long as mother is sick, I’ll have to stay here on the plantation. Father needs me too much, and I would never even think of leaving him alone. And what if mother gets better? I’m afraid this country is headed straight into a war. All the medical schools for women are in the North. They’ll be in a separate country if those blamed fire-eaters have their way.” Her voice blazed forth angrily now. “Why can’t they see that all of us need each other? Why do they think they have the right to destroy my life and my dreams just to satisfy their own selfish desires?” Robert moved over and enfolded her in his arms. Carrie rested her head on his broad chest and allowed the tears to come. She had been holding so much. Great sobs wracked her body as the tensions and fears of the last three months finally found an outlet.
“I’m sorry,” she gulped as she gradually regained control.
Robert put a finger to her lips. “Hush. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who is sorry that I live so far away. I wish I was closer and could offer more support for you and your father.”
Carrie continued to rest her head on his chest. Moving slightly, she allowed her arms to encircle his lean waist. She needed his comfort and strength so badly. They stood that way for a long time. On the river, a stronger breeze was kicking up whitecaps, turning the azure water a steely gray.
“Carrie...” Robert’s voice caught, and he cleared his throat roughly. “Carrie, I need to tell you something.”
Carrie began to feel uncomfortable. There was something in his voice. She began to pull back so that she could see his face, but his arms tightened to hold her where she was. She waited to see what he would say.
Robert took a deep breath. “Carrie, I’ve known from the first day I met you that I love you.” His voice was strong and confident. “I—”
“Stop.” Carrie pushed herself away and reached up a soft hand to touch his lips.
“But why?” Robert protested. “I—”
Again, Carrie raised her hand to stop him. “Give me time,” she pleaded. “There is so much going on right now. So much to deal with...” Her voice trailed off as she looked up at him in mute appeal. He would be hurt by the suggestion that his love was just one more thing to deal with, but their dreams were so different. They were miles apart on critical issues.
Robert gazed at her. Finally, he nodded. “All right, Carrie, but someday...”
Carrie smiled in gratitude. “Someday,” she agreed.
Robert forced a smile. “If we don’t want to be wet very soon, we’d better head back.”
Carrie turned and saw the dark bank of clouds scudding their way.
“Oh, my goodness!” She watched, fascinated, as the increasing wind whipped up higher waves on the James and then turned to where Granite waited patiently. In moments they were on their way. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she turned for one final look. This would always be her most favorite place on earth. She hated to think that anything could ever separate her from it.
“Hey, Moses!”
“Yeah, Sam?” Moses turned from where he was mending some boards that had torn away from the well house during a storm the week before.
“Miss Carrie just came down and said her mama be running a mite of fever again. She asked me to bring up a tub of ice from the ice house, but I done pulled somethin’ in my back this mornin’. I need you to take it up to her.”
Moses nodded and turned away. “I’ll have it right there, Sam.” Moses felt a twinge of anticipation. This would be the first time he would see the inside of the big house. Field servants didn’t usually have a reason to be there. It only took a few minutes to fill the tub.
Sam chuckled as he opened the backdoor for him. “I wish you was around all the time. You make that heavy tub look light as a baby. Those arms of yours look more like tree trunks.”
Moses smiled and headed in the direction Sam pointed. Just as he reached the doorway, he saw Mr. Cromwell and Robert, deep in conversation, walk up the stairway.
Moses was close behind them, but they didn’t notice.
“Remember what I told you on the train, Robert?”
Robert chuckled. “What I remember is that you almost told me something on the train.”
“You’ll soon understand why I couldn’t say anything. I’ve decided it’s time, though. I may not get another chance, and I want someone else to know the secret.”
Moses walked a little quieter. They still hadn’t noticed him. At the top of the stairs, he turned the way Sam had told him and carried the tub into Mrs. Cromwell’s room.
“Thank you, Sam,” Carrie murmured, not looking up from applying cold rags to her mama’s head. “I won’t need anything else for a while.”
Moses turned and left. He could hear the murmur of voices down the hall. Moses turned toward the voices, making no sound as he crept forward. He knew he would be beaten if he were found, but something was pulling him forward, making the risk worth taking. When he was close enough to hear their voices, he cocked his head and listened. A startled look and then an admiring smile appeared on his dark face. He heard the sound of footsteps and glided silently back down the hall. He was already in the kitchen before Thomas and Robert emerged from Carrie’s room.
Robert’s face had a serious, slightly awestruck look. “Thank you for trusting me, sir. I will not betray your confidence.”
“I have no doubt of that young man, or I wouldn’t have told you. I hope you never need to know it, but if you do…”
“I’m sorry to have to leave so soon, sir.”
“That was a long way to ride for just one day,” Thomas observed.
“It was worth it,” Robert stated. He looked up at the room above him where he knew Carrie was with her mother. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”