Storm Clouds Rolling In

by Ginny Dye

  Carrie knew her strength had been spent. She 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. Robert had just 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 her she was sleeping soundly. She tucked the blankets in a little tighter, leaned forward to plant a light kiss on her forehead, and then left the room to run lightly down the stairs.

  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, then shook 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 said, and then disappeared through the door.

  Robert continued to hold Carrie’s hand, smiling down into her eyes. Gently, he led her over to the porch swing. Carrie sank into it gratefully. They sat quietly 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 firmly.

  Just then 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 then 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 till he found what he wanted, then looked up. “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 let’s 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 the City Hall.”

  Robert looked down. “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 paused and quit reading for a moment. He looked up and said, “He 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 that if Lincoln were to be elected, if secession would not be justified.” He 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 yelled out and 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 he picked up the paper. “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 dryly.

  “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 and the United States, lambasted Lincoln for advancing unconstitutional issues, and then went on about how the truth and the r
ight of the South would win out in the end.” He paused. “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 to 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 just crying ‘wolf’. He assures 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 - a new country.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right, sir,” Robert agreed heavily.

  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 firmly, “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?” Carrie nodded. “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. Suddenly, 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, then wrapped her arms around his solid warmth. She just 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 field. 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 suddenly she didn’t want to talk. She just 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 then eased between the tall rows of corn still waving their tassled 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 had said she could have the run of the place on Granite; 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? Robert stared back. Then 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 overgrown 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 just knew she had to go.

  Granite finally broke through of the woods and emerged into the clearing. Her 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.

  Wordlessly, 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 simply.

  “Thank you,” he repeated. “I am quite honored you would share it with me.”

  Carrie stared into his eyes, realizing 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 softly. “This has always been my special place. I found it when I was very young.” Then 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.”

  Carrie frowned slightly as reality edged into her magic place. Then 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,” she said slowly. 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 as she has always known it 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. T
hat’s why she’s not getting better.”

  “Is that really possible?” Robert protested.

  Carrie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said flatly. “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 assure that each of your patients get 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 looked at him, and then 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.” Then 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 dreams just to satisfy their own selfish desires?”