by Ginny Dye
She was busily calculating her revenge, a mile or so from the house, when a lone figure on horseback moved into the road from the surrounding woods. The man looked up as the carriage drew nearer and then moved over to the side of the road to let them pass easily. Louisa barely glanced at him as her driver slowed. She was far more interested in her thoughts than in a strange man.
“Miss Blackwell.”
Louisa looked up sharply as the slight, wiry man lifted his hat in greeting. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t place him.
“Ike Adams, ma’am.”
Still she couldn’t place him. She moved forward to tell her driver to continue on. His next words erased her thoughts.
“The old overseer at Cromwell Plantation, ma’am.”
“Stop the carriage,” she ordered quickly then looked at him with new interest as the carriage rolled to a halt under the spreading arms of an oak tree. She didn’t particularly like what she saw. Something about him was rather unsettling. Maybe it was the cruel slant of his eyes. Or the cocky bearing as he looked down at her. “Mr. Adams,” she murmured, feeling slightly uneasy but angry enough at Carrie to pursue the conversation.
“I see you’ve been to visit our Miss Cromwell,” Adams observed.
Louisa’s face flushed with renewed anger as she thought of Carrie. “She is certainly not my Miss Cromwell,” she said sharply.
Adams seemed to eye her with greater interest, and then he moved his horse closer to the carriage.
“I take it it wasn’t a pleasant visit,” he said smoothly, an oily smile on his face.
Louisa didn’t usually lower herself to bother conversing with strange overseers, but she was eager to vent her frustration to anyone who would listen. “Carrie Cromwell can be quite unreasonable,” she said crisply then sighed heavily as she cast her eyes down. She was quite experienced with the effect she could have on men.
“So I have seen,” Adams remarked dryly.
“Of course,” Louisa said even though she had no idea why Carrie had thrown the man off of her plantation. It would be best to be cautious. “I have heard you are no longer employed by Cromwell Plantation.”
Adams barked a laugh. “I imagine you’ve heard a lot more than just that. I reckon I’m the talk of the area. It ain’t everyone that gets tossed out on their ear by a girl,” he said bitterly.
“No, I suppose not,” Louisa agreed. She was intrigued to see where this conversation could lead. She waited for him to continue.
Adams was happy to vent. “She was wrong, you know. I was just doing my job. If her daddy knew what she had done, I’d have my job back in a heartbeat!”
Something in Adams’ face said he was lying, but Louisa didn’t really care. She was feeling no sense of loyalty to her old time friend.
“How’s everything going on the plantation now, Miss Blackwell?” Adams voice had taken on a wheedling, yet vulnerable tone. “I sure do miss that place.”
“I suppose everything is going all right. I wasn’t there for very long. The house was certainly in fine shape.” When Adams flushed in anger, she sensed she had not given him the answer he wanted. An idea began to take shape. “What are you doing now, Mr. Adams?” Her voice was more pleasant.
“Trying to help slave owners like yourself hold onto their valuable property. I am at anyone’s service any time of the day or night.”
“You’re a slave hunter,” Louisa commented flatly. She could not imagine a more repulsive life than one spent hunting down runaway slaves, but she knew someone had to do it.
“That’s right, Miss Blackwell. I’m a slave hunter.” Adams said coldly as if he detected the disdain in her voice.
Louisa realized quickly that she had not responded in the best way. Obviously the man’s pride had been battered by Carrie’s actions. She batted her eyes at him as she gazed up. “You misunderstand,” she said quickly. “I think it’s wonderful what you do. I’m sure many people appreciate your services.”
Adams appeared somewhat mollified. A half smile formed on his lips as he looked at her.
Louisa’s plan had taken form while they talked. She was ready. “I’ve heard some of the Cromwell slaves are missing from the plantation again,” she said casually, watching him carefully. When Adams’ face tightened, she knew he was thinking about the slaves that had escaped when he was still overseer. “Not the ones who ran away last summer. I’m talking about more recently.”
Adams’ eyes narrowed as he shifted in his saddle. “Miss Cromwell tell you that?” he asked sharply.
“No,” Louisa admitted. “But talk gets around, you know.”
Adams’ lips tightened, but he didn’t say anything.
Louisa knew she was getting somewhere by the bright calculating gleam in his eye. She had him thinking. “I imagine those slaves are worth a lot of money.”
“All Cromwell slaves are worth a lot of money,” he stated flatly. “Worth more every day now that the war is going on. Their value just keeps going up. People know niggers are gonna be harder to come by.”
Good, Louisa thought. She tried to keep her voice nonchalant. “I imagine Mr. Cromwell would be extremely eager to recoup his investment.”
“Possibly.”
She knew Adams was watching her more closely, wondering where she was headed. Taking a deep breath, she laid her cards on the table. “I imagine Mr. Cromwell would be very appreciative to the man who told him about his missing slaves and then recaptured them. Probably would want to see that man as overseer, even if his darling daughter didn’t.”
Adams peered even harder at her. “What you got against Carrie Cromwell, ma’am?”
Louisa shrugged. “I’m merely suggesting that Thomas Cromwell might appreciate your services. You can do with that information what you want.” She knew by the cold gleam in his eyes that she had planted an idea he would at least think about. As she looked at the cruel twist to his lips, she felt a twinge of remorse and then shoved it aside. Carrie could act high and mighty if she wanted to, but at some point she would have to learn that her actions were simply unacceptable. She had tried going in friendship to warn her, but it had done no good. It was time her father knew the truth about what was really going on at Cromwell Plantation.
Adams lifted his hat, smiled briefly, and said, “Thank you for the information, Miss Blackwell. Have a nice day.” Touching his hand to his hat, he broke into a gentle canter and moved down the road away from the carriage.
Louisa looked after him with a satisfied smile and then spoke sharply to her driver. “Move ahead.”
Carrie’s heart was still pounding furiously when Granite broke out of the woods into the small clearing along the James. She had been so upset by Louisa’s visit that all she could think to do was come to her place. Swinging down from Granite, she strode over to her log and settled onto it. Her mind raced as she looked out over the placid water of the river. She almost resented its serene surface. She would have liked it better if it was being rolled and tossed by a savage wind. Then it would more clearly match her emotions.
She didn’t know how long she had sat there before she took any notice of her surroundings. The tiny clearing was like a green palace. Low hanging limbs of oak and maple reached down to embrace the flower-laden grass. Water lapped gently at the bank a few feet from where she sat. It bore no evidence of the flood that had covered it weeks before. Mother Nature had reclaimed it as soon as the water had receded.
It had been months since she had had time to escape to her haven. She longed for the carefree days of youth when she had spent endless hours hidden away from the world in her secret place. She had only brought one person here...
At the thought of Robert, her cheeks burned anew. She could imagine him and Louisa together laughing about her - talking about her - making fun of her.
You don’t know how much of what she said was truth... The thought that had flitted through her mind came back to her as she stared out over the river. Carrie knew Louisa was c
apable of saying anything. For all she knew, the girl had never even seen Robert. She could have made it all up to make her angry.
For a long while, Carrie allowed her thoughts to be occupied by Robert. Here, protected by the trees that had watched her grow up, she allowed the memories and special moments to spill through her mind. She felt relieved when tears rolled up and then spilled down her cheeks. She knew she was nearing the breaking point, or Louisa’s visit and caustic words wouldn’t have bothered her so much. She would have simply gotten rid of the troublesome girl and then laughed about it. There was no laughter in her now.
Gradually the peace of her sanctuary worked its magic. As the sun began to sink beyond the horizon, she could think clearly again. Louisa might very well have seen Robert. They might have laughed together about her. Their actions now had nothing to do with the action she had taken two months ago. She would do the same thing again. Carrie sighed as she settled back against a log and let the soft breeze blow over her hot face. She knew she had done the right thing. She could only be responsible for her own actions - she couldn’t mandate what other people did or how they perceived her. Once she came to that conclusion, she regained her sense of peace.
She was able now to think through Louisa’s other caustic remarks. Nigger lover... Carrie smiled at that one. Louisa meant it as an insult. Carrie considered it a compliment. Yes, she loved all her black friends and was determined to do what she could for them. Let other people think what they wanted. She had made a decision she could live with. She had known when she made the decision that slavery was wrong that hardly anyone in her sphere of friends would agree with her. That was all right. She had to live with herself.
She could not deny the concern of what would happen if Louisa told her father about Adams’ being gone. She was sure she could convince him that Adams should never set another foot on Cromwell Plantation, but she wasn’t as sure that she could keep him from appointing another overseer in his place.
As Carrie pondered everything in her mind, she felt the worry connected with it slip away. Finally, with a sigh, she let it all go.
She would take one day at a time. That was all she could do.
CHAPTER SIX
July 10, 1861
“We’ll take care of everything, Carrie. Don’t worry about things back here.”
Carrie smiled. “I trust you, Moses. I know I’m leaving the plantation in good hands. It’s not you I’m worried about.” She paused for a moment. When she spoke again, her smile had been replaced by a worried frown. “I can’t get Louisa Blackwell’s visit out of my mind. She seemed to think the neighbors were upset by what is going on here - or what they think is going on, anyway. They’re bound to know I’m leaving the plantation for a while. What if they come over here trying to start trouble?”
She could tell by the worried flicker in his eyes that Moses had thought the same thing, but his voice was strong and confident when he answered her.
“Don’t be worrying none about things here. People have their own lives to worry about. They might be talking, but I reckon they have enough of their own problems to take care of without trying to make problems for us.”
Carrie tried to take comfort from his words. Sarah had tried to reassure her the night before with similar words. Why couldn’t she just let it go? “Oh, I wish Father hadn’t called me to the city!” she burst out. “I should have just told him I was too busy to come right now.”
Rose walked out onto the porch just then. “You know your daddy, Carrie. He’s worried sick that something will happen and he won’t be able to take care of you. Sounds like from his letter that the first real fight of the war is about to take place. And right here on Virginia soil. He’s not going to be able to rest until he knows you are safe in Richmond with him. You can come back when the danger is over.”
Carrie nodded but didn’t say what she was thinking. When would she be able to return? When would her father think it was safe? That wasn’t really what was bothering her, however. She had faced the truth in the long hours of darkness last night when she had lain sleepless. She was obeying her father’s anxious plea for her to come to Richmond because she hoped for one last glimpse of Robert before he headed into battle.
That knowledge had filled her with both sorrow and self-contempt. She had ended their relationship. She should just let it go.
Carrie gave Rose and Moses a final hug and then turned to walk down the stairs. “I’m ready, Sam. We should be on our way.”
“Yessum, Miss Carrie.” Sam smiled warmly, raised his hands, and urged the team of horses to move the carriage smartly down the driveway. Once they were past the protective hedge of boxwoods, he turned and said, “I think you gonna be mighty surprised when you get to the city, ma’am.”
Carrie thought to ask him what he meant, but she was too absorbed in her own thoughts. She would find out soon enough anyway. She did have another question, though. “Sam, do you like being a driver?”
Sam shrugged and smiled a half smile. “I don’t mind it none, Miss Carrie.”
Carrie watched him handle the team expertly and thought with sadness of her friend Miles. He had been a slave on the Cromwell Plantation long before she was born. The wise old man had taught her everything she knew about horses - had instilled in her his deep love for them. He had disappeared the year before with the first group of slaves who had escaped from the plantation. She still missed him
“Do you think Charles found him?” she asked suddenly. She knew Sam would know she was asking about Miles.
Sam shrugged again. “I reckon if anybody could, Charles could.”
Carrie waited for him to say more, but the large man fell silent again. Why did she always feel that Sam knew more than he was saying? She pushed that thought aside as her thoughts returned to Charles. He had been Miles’ assistant, had taken over the stables when he had disappeared. What he lacked in experience, he had made up for in commitment, but he had been one of the first to take her up on her offer to leave. She was glad to think he was free somewhere, possibly reconnected with the old man who had been like a father to him, but it had left a gaping hole on the plantation.
Sam glanced back to look at her. “What’s that worried look on your face fer, Miss Carrie?”
Carrie answered honestly. “I’m just wondering how long I’m going to be able to keep plugging holes. So far Father hasn’t become suspicious because everything continues to run smoothly. But what happens when it doesn’t anymore? I don’t regret letting the people go,” she said hastily, “but...”
“But you just decidin’ to borrow trouble ‘fore it be here.”
Carrie managed a laugh. “I guess you’re right.” She couldn’t let it go, though. “What do you think Father will say when you come driving up with me, instead of Charles?”
Sam shrugged. “He’ll probably thank me for stepping in when Charles is so sick back on the plantation. And plan to give me an extra gift at Christmas time.”
Carrie looked up at his words, caught the amused twinkle in his eyes, and broke out into a hearty laugh. “You always could make me laugh, Sam. Thank you.” The laughter seemed to ease the weight of her heart.
Feeling suddenly weary, Carrie leaned back against the carriage seat. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift into a deep sleep.
The sound of a train whistle woke her. Opening her eyes slowly, she suddenly jerked to attention. “We’re in Richmond, already?” she gasped.
“I’d say you needed to sleep,” Sam chuckled. “Yessum, we be here in Richmond.”
Carrie looked around her in astonishment. They had just entered the outskirts of the city. A quick look at the sky told her they had probably gotten here just in time. The sky that beamed hazy sunshine this morning had now taken on a yellow-gray tone, and the air was stagnant with humidity. As they slowed to maneuver the traffic in the streets, the breeze that had been stirred by their movement died. The sultry air seemed to reach out clasping fingers to grasp at her. She imme
diately felt the unwelcome sensation of sweat trickling down her brow and back and reached under the seat to pull out a parasol. It would at least offer some protection from the midday heat.
“Do you think we’ll get to Father’s house before the storm hits?” she asked anxiously. She was not averse to a little rain, but the threatening sky promised a severe storm. She had no desire to dodge lightning bolts.
Sam cast a practiced eye on the sky. After a few moments, he nodded. “I think we’ll get there. Leastways, if the traffic don’t stop up completely.”
Carrie stared around her and saw that Sam’s concern was justified. “This is what you meant earlier when you said I would be surprised when we got here,” she guessed.
Sam focused on navigating the bustling street merely nodded. Carrie had never seen Richmond like this. There were people and carriages everywhere! She had expected, after Louisa’s report, to see soldiers everywhere, but though they were in evidence, there didn’t seem to be a preponderance of them. She quickly realized they must have all gone north to prepare for the battle her father predicted. Suddenly, she was very anxious to get to her father’s house. Surely he would know whether Robert had gone to battle yet or not.
As they inched down Broad Street, she craned to catch a glimpse of someone she knew. Not that she really expected to see anyone, but the sight of a familiar face would make her at least feel she was in her favorite city. Richmond seemed to have become a different world in the months since she been there last – less than three months ago!
Just as they drove past the train depot on Broad Street, an engine, pulling its load of cars, puffed up to the station. A great horde of people swarmed off the train, but very few people got on it. The cries of carriage drivers vying for passengers filled the air as the rattle of wheels and the yells of people trying to reach their destinations filled her ears. Carrie leaned forward eagerly, to absorb it all, even though it frightened her just a little. She had expected, and grown accustomed to, such madness in Philadelphia the summer before. But Richmond? The quiet, prosperous city on the James had exploded overnight.