Carried Forward By Hope

by Ginny Dye

  “But that isn’t happening? I don’t know a lot about it, but isn’t that what sharecropping is all about?” Carrie asked.

  “In an ideal world, it is the perfect answer,” Jeremy replied. “But we don’t live in an ideal world. No one will know for certain until harvest time whether the sharecropping arrangements are working.”

  Carrie watched him closely. “You don’t believe they will.”

  Jeremy managed a slight chuckle. “Abby is not the only one who knows how to read others like a book.” He frowned. “No, I don’t believe it will work. Oh, if everyone was like Thomas it would be fabulous, but I suspect most of the owners are going to short the freed slaves and give them barely enough to subsist on so they keep them under their control. Sharecropping will, I’m afraid, become just another word for slavery.”

  “So what do we do?” Carrie asked.

  “We fight,” Jeremy responded immediately. “We continue to fight for the freedmen’s rights. We continue to fight to rebuild the South into something we can be proud of again.”

  “With men like Clifford and his friends, it’s going to be a long uphill battle,” Carrie said quietly.

  “It always has been,” Abby responded. “We fought for so long for abolition, but those of us who understood the South knew the battle that would come after would be just as long.”

  “It’s not just Southerners who are creating the problem,” Thomas said. “I have a feeling there are just as many prejudiced people in the North. They just didn’t have the opportunity to own slaves. Matthew is right — they may not believe the blacks should be enslaved, but neither do they believe they should be offered equality.”

  “You’re right,” Abby said immediately. “I don’t believe prejudice is a Northern or Southern problem. I believe it’s a human nature problem. People always want someone else to look down on. I see it not only between racial groups, but also between ethnic groups.” She paused. “We just have to hold on. The Congress will begin to turn things around when they come back into session. I’ve heard from several of my friends in Washington, DC. They are incensed with President Johnson and believe he is doing the exact opposite of what Lincoln would have done.”

  “Does that matter?” Robert asked. “He is president now.”

  “Yes, it matters,” Abby replied. “Thank goodness in a democratic government it is not possible for one man to call all the shots. Johnson is taking bold steps now, but he is fighting a losing political battle. He doesn’t have the votes or the support to keep pressing his agenda in January. Lincoln knew how to work with people and pull them to his way of seeing things. He garnered true support — the reason he was able to pass the amendment to abolish slavery. Johnson, on the other hand, just plows his way through and runs over anyone in his way. I’d heard he was rather a loner.”

  “Which is not the formula for an effective president,” Matthew observed ruefully.

  “It most certainly is not,” Abby said forcefully. “I believe Congress will stop him, but he will certainly do damage in the meantime.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to have to believe Congress will do their job. I’m going to focus on mine.”

  “Which is building the factory,” Thomas said. “The building starts going up in two weeks. Then the equipment will arrive. We’ll start training people on it even before the building is ready so that we can get a advantage on any competition.”

  Abby nodded. “We’ll all do our part. Matthew will tell the stories and make sure people know the truth. Jeremy will run the factory and make sure the blacks are treated equally and with respect. Robert, you are starting a whole new string of fine Virginia Thoroughbreds, and Carrie, you are going to start a new medical clinic. We are all doing our part to rebuild a South we can be proud of.”

  A breeze blew through the parlor, blowing the curtains and causing the lanterns to flicker. Silence fell as each of them absorbed all they had talked about. The breeze carried a hint of fall, but it also carried a hint of bigger troubles coming their way.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Spencer was waiting outside the next morning when Carrie stepped onto the porch, grateful for the bite of fall in the air. It had been a long, hot summer. A coat was not yet needed, but she relished the cooler temperatures. “Good morning, Spencer!” she called brightly.

  “How do, Miss Carrie,” Spencer replied warmly. “How’s Miss Janie?”

  “She’s wonderful,” Carrie replied. “Being on the plantation has been good for her.” She told him of their plans to start a medical clinic.

  “Then we’re heading down to Jackson Hospital to find Dr. Wild, ain’t we?” Spencer asked.

  “Yes, we are,” Carrie said. “You’re sure he’s still there?”

  “Yessum. I saw him walking into the hospital last week when I was dropping off some passengers.”

  Carrie leaned back in the carriage to enjoy the ride. The leaves were still bright green, but it wouldn’t be long before the cooler temperatures teased the golds and reds from them. She thought of the lush fields at Cromwell. The wheat and oat crop was doing well, but if this early cool spell was any indication, they would have a frost before they could harvest the tobacco. She knew, though, that it was just as likely they would settle into a long Indian summer that would produce a bumper crop and boost everyone’s profits. Only time would tell.

  Carrie frowned as she thought about all they had talked about the night before, but decided to force it all from her mind. She couldn’t change politics, but she could help people get better. Eager to get home and prepare the clinic, she ran through her plans in her mind.

  She was in a much better mood by the time they pulled up in front of the hospital. Minutes later, directed by helpful personnel, she was knocking on Dr. Wild’s door.

  “Carrie!” Dr. Wild stepped forward and embraced her warmly. “It’s so wonderful to see you.” He paused. “How is Robert?”

  Carrie knew he was afraid to ask. He had seen Robert’s refusal to live and get well. “You wouldn’t recognize him,” she said happily. “Actually, you probably would! He looks just like the man I married except he has a little more gray in his hair. We rode in from the plantation so I could talk to you.”

  Dr. Wild beamed. “You could not have given me better news today!” he said enthusiastically.

  Carrie looked at him closely. “You’ve been receiving mostly bad news, haven’t you?”

  Dr. Wild nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s true.”

  “I thought you were going to leave Richmond after the war,” Carrie said. “I was surprised to find you still here.”

  “I wanted to, but I find the need is still too great.”

  “The veterans,” Carrie said softly. “It’s why I’m here. I came to ask for your help.”

  “I’ll help you if I possibly can,” Dr. Wild responded. “What is it you need?”

  Carrie told him the story about Bobby, Joe, and Abner. “There are so many veterans who need help, but that’s not all. There are virtually no medical services for the freed slaves unless they are closer to the cities where the Freedmen’s Bureau has offices. And the families of the veterans have no resources either.”

  “It is a bleak situation,” Dr. Wild agreed heavily.

  “I’m not a doctor yet…”

  Dr. Wild shrugged. “You weren’t a doctor when we worked side by side at Chimborazo either. What do you want to do, Carrie?”

  “I’m planning on opening a medical clinic next to the school we just built,” she said, watching him to get his initial reaction.

  “You just built a school?” Dr. Wild asked.

  Carrie explained about Rose opening a school for the area children. “They’re building a large room for the clinic onto the schoolhouse,” she explained. “I’m going to make sure people know I’m not actually a doctor, but I believe many will want me to help them.”

  “You’re right,” Dr. Wild agreed. “What you did for Joe and Abner will make the word spread quickly. “Once
they actually visit you, they will realize you know as much, or more, than any certified medical doctor.”

  Carrie flushed. “Thank you.”

  “I’m just speaking the truth,” Dr. Wild replied. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. There are so many who need help. Even if they could make it into the city, we don’t have enough services to take care of everyone.” He gazed at her warmly. “You’re here for supplies.”

  “Yes. I am prepared to pay for them, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “You came to the right place,” Dr. Wild assured her. “How long are you in the city?”

  “We’d planned to return tomorrow, but we can stay longer if needed.”

  “That won’t be necessary. Come by the hospital in the morning and I’ll have everything you need.” He paused. “I hope you are still using your herbal remedies.”

  Carrie looked at him. “I am, but why is that important? Surely it is easier to get drugs now.”

  “Too easy,” Dr. Wild said, anger sparking in his eyes. “We have over a hundred soldiers in the hospital right now who are addicted to morphine. I don’t deny they needed it for their pain after amputations, but the addiction will kill them as certainly as the infection would have. It will just take longer.” He turned to stare out his window. “If it’s not morphine, it’s alcohol. I don’t blame the men for wanting to forget the hell they went through, but the alcohol is destroying them and what is left of their families.” He took a deep breath. “I fear we will have hundreds of thousands of addicts, both North and South, within the next ten years.”

  Carrie frowned. Morphine had been the drug of choice all through the war because it was the only thing that could relieve the soldiers’ pain. There had been so many times it had been the only choice to silence the screams of agony from bullet wounds and amputations. “What are you using now?”

  “I don’t have an answer yet,” Dr. Wild admitted. “Right now everything I read just substitutes another drug. I read in a journal yesterday about something called Vin Mariani. It’s a mixture of cocaine and wine.”

  “Is it working?” Carrie asked

  “I don’t know. I agree that morphine addiction is bad, but I’m not sure substituting one drug for the other is the answer.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to detox as many men as possible.”

  “How?” Carrie asked eagerly. She was quite sure she was going to run into the issue. She had been using valerian root with Joe and Abner, but they hadn’t come to her addicted to morphine.

  “It’s not pretty,” Dr. Wild said bluntly. “If a soldier is addicted to morphine, they will start going into withdrawal after about twelve hours without the drug. They will have mood changes, becoming very restless or anxious. Twelve hours more and they will probably develop the full syndrome of shaking legs, nausea, and cramps. This stage can last two to three days. Many times I have found the men in a fetal position, sweating and vomiting. The whole process, before they feel themselves again, usually takes seven to ten days.”

  Carrie watched him closely. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

  Dr. Wild sighed. “Even if you get the morphine out of their system, the odds are they will find a way to use it again if they can. It evidently is highly addictive.”

  “But if they’re not under medical care, how can they get it?”

  “An addict can often find a way,” he said ruefully. “They will steal from hospitals or medical supply companies. Oftentimes, they’ll buy it from other soldiers.” He sighed. “The morphine can kill them as easily as their wounds can — perhaps even more easily. It’s going to be a problem for a long time.”

  Carrie nodded thoughtfully.

  Dr. Wild changed the subject. “Are you still hoping for medical school?”

  “Yes.” Carrie told him about the medical books Dr. Strikener had sent her. “I’ve been studying them every day.” She thought about everything Robert had said. “I don’t know when it will happen, but I believe I’ll become a doctor.”

  Just saying the words filled her with a stronger sense of purpose than she had ever felt.

  ******

  Robert was standing on the porch reading a letter when Spencer drove Carrie up to the house. She could hardly wait to tell him her news. “Robert!” she called as she stepped out of the carriage and gathered her skirts.

  He smiled. “I take it by the look on your face that he said yes.”

  Carrie was beaming as she ran up the steps. “He did! We can pick up the supplies in the morning before we head back to the plantation.” She threw her arms around him and lifted her face for his kiss.

  “Congratulations,” he said warmly. “Of course, I already knew he would say yes.”

  “So you said,” Carrie murmured. After so many years of being without her husband, she didn’t think she would ever get used to the feel of his warm lips on hers. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Robert’s arms tightened. “And I love you.”

  When Carrie finally stepped back she looked at the letter he still gripped in one hand. “News?”

  Robert nodded and led her over to the porch swing. “Would you mind terribly if we didn’t go right back to the plantation?”

  Carrie eyed him, noticing a light in his eyes she wasn’t quite sure she could identify. “Where are we going?”

  Robert smiled. “How about a trip to lovely Oak Meadows?”

  Carrie gasped. “Oak Meadows!” She pushed all thoughts of the clinic out of her mind. She had dreamed of seeing Oak Meadows for years, and Robert hadn’t been home since Matthew convinced the Union officer to not destroy it. “When do we leave?”

  Robert chuckled. “Aren’t you anxious about getting back to work on the clinic?”

  “Anxious isn’t the right word,” Carrie replied. “I think eager would be more appropriate.”

  “Okay. Then aren’t you eager to get back to work on the clinic?”

  “Yes,” Carrie replied immediately, “but not nearly as eager as I am to see my husband’s boyhood home and discover where he grew up.”

  Robert took her hand. “It will be so strange to be there without Mother,” he said gruffly.

  Carrie held his hand tightly, letting memories of his mother and the brother he lost during the war sweep through him. “She’ll be so glad you lived to come home,” she said gently.

  Robert nodded but corrected her. “Not home,” he said. “Home is Cromwell Plantation now. That is where my future is.”

  Carrie let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding, relief sweeping through her body. She would not have hesitated to go to Oak Meadows with Robert, but it would have been difficult to leave everything behind. “What will you do with Oak Meadows now?” she asked quietly.

  Robert lifted the letter. “Until last night I thought the letter I sent a few weeks ago was pointless, because I was quite sure Oak Meadows would be redistributed to the freed slaves. I had come to a place where I was okay with that. When Matthew told me President Johnson had changed everything, I felt bad for the slaves, but I also felt relief that I wouldn’t lose it,” he admitted.

  Carrie nodded. “You would be something less than human if you hadn’t felt that way,” she told him. “You poured your whole life into Oak Meadows.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I did.” He held the letter up again. “Now someone else is.”

  Carrie stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  Robert took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to sell Oak Meadows,” he said firmly.

  Carrie sat back and stared at him, unable to find words.

  Robert smiled. “I received an offer about a month ago.”

  “I didn’t know,” Carrie murmured.

  “The letter came when you were out of the house. I decided to not say anything because I didn’t want either of us to get our hopes up.”

  Carrie was puzzled. “Why would I get my hopes up about you selling Oak Meadows?”

  Robert brandished the letter
again and grinned. “Because the money that will come from the sale will be used to expand the horse program at Cromwell and…”

  Carrie poked him as the silence lengthened. “And what?” she demanded. “You know I am not a patient person.”

  Robert’s grin widened. “I have heard the only way to gain patience is to simply practice when you need it. I’m helping,” he said innocently, his eyes bright with laughter.

  Carrie raised a fist and turned to him. “Robert!”

  His grin dissolved into laughter, and his eyes shown with excitement. “The money from the sale will also be used to put you through medical school when you’re ready,” he said triumphantly.

  Carrie gaped at him, searching for words as tears filled her eyes. “Medical school?” she whispered.

  Robert nodded. “I already know your father and Abby would have made it possible for you to go, but it’s important to me to know I can make my wife’s dream come true.” He tilted Carrie’s face up so he could gaze into her eyes. “When you’re ready, there is nothing to stop you from becoming Dr. Borden.”

  Carrie threw herself into his arms. “Thank you,” she cried. “Knowing you believe in me…knowing you really want me to become a doctor means everything to me.”

  Robert cocked a brow. “I thought I convinced you of that on the banks of the James River.”

  Carrie flushed and grinned as she met his eyes. “Maybe I just need to convince myself,” she replied. She stood up and walked to the edge of the porch to stare out over the yard. “Dr. Borden,” she said softly. Her voice strengthened as she imagined going to class and learning all she could learn. “Doctor Borden.” She stared at Robert. “I believe I like the sound of that.”

  Robert stood and swept her into his arms, silencing her with a deep kiss. When he finally pulled back, he held out a hand to her. “How about if we leave for Oak Meadows tomorrow?”