Distant Dreams (23 page)

“Really, Mr. Baldwin, I don’t—”

“Never mind!” he said sharply. He wanted to jump up and leave, but his confounded leg prevented any quick retreat. Thus, frustrated even more, he added, “I don’t want to be here any more than you appear to want me here.” It was an effort to keep his voice low. “But we both have a stake in this, and it would suit us well to work together instead of apart.”

Carolina’s cheeks flushed red, and she turned angry eyes upon him. “Whatever do you mean, ‘We both have a stake in this’? My only desire is to further my education. I was pleased when Papa announced he had hired a tutor for me, and while I would rather it be someone else, I certainly do not intend to jeopardize this situation.”

James’ scowl deepened. “And what have you got against me?”

Carolina’s chin jutted out, her defiance more than merely hinted at now. Her eyes glinted. “I don’t believe you have my interests in mind at all. York had planned to help me”—her voice raised a bit louder than she’d intended—“but he’s off to Washington. I’m forced, therefore, to utilize your services until someone else comes along.”

James laughed harshly. “And you think there might be the possibility of that? Who else is going to drag himself all the way out here to tutor a starry-eyed, mean-tempered child?”

“I am not a child!” Carolina exclaimed, stamping her foot. The action seemed so preposterous and in contrast to her words that Carolina suddenly stopped her tirade, her lips quirking into an apologetic smile. “I’m not a child . . . but I will concede the mean temper. It often gets the best of me. I guess I am anxious.”

“About me?” He moderated his tone also, his ire replaced by honest bemusement.

She bit her lip and jumped up. She wandered to the fireplace and fingered a vase of mums. Deciding to give her a moment to collect her thoughts, James also rose, took up his crutches and, balancing upon them, went to the sofa. “If you don’t mind, my leg is killing me, and I’d like to stretch it out here for a spell.”

Carolina nodded, “By all means.”

He settled upon the gold-striped sofa and dropped the crutches to the floor. “Go on,” he said at length.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you were about to tell me why you’re anxious.”

Carolina frowned, and this time it was her own gaze that fell upon the open door. “You had asked but I didn’t—” She stopped suddenly, then with resolve turned to face him. “All right, I suppose no more harm can be done, and Papa always says honesty is the best course no matter what. I know why you’re here,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I know my parents hope to see you married to my sister, but my goal is to receive an education, and I don’t want to see that take second place to your courtship of Virginia.”

James tried not to look surprised at her unexpected revelation. “I take my duties seriously, I assure you. I’m being paid to tutor you, and while I too know of the plan to see me married to your sister, I’ll make sure you get your money’s worth.”

Carolina’s eyes widened at this. “It has nothing to do with money, except maybe on your part.”

James shook his head. “No amount of money would be worth putting up with this. Either you want me to teach you or you don’t. Say the word and I’ll leave.” The color drained from her face, and Carolina went quickly to the door and closed it. She turned and leaned against it as if for support. James watched her carefully for a moment and waited for her to speak.

Carolina bit at her lower lip before approaching James. When she spoke the anger was gone from her voice. “I don’t want you to leave. Virginia’s happiness is important, and she seems to care quite deeply about you.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice revealed her surprise.

“I know you care about your sister,” he said, “but do you care enough about her to put up with me as your tutor? Can you learn from me? Will you feel comfortable enough to ask questions when you don’t understand . . .” he paused and grew very serious, “or will your pride keep you from admitting your confusion?”

Carolina took a deep breath. “I want this education very much. I’m not foolish enough to sit back and allow the opportunity to slip through my fingers. I’ll devote myself to prayer and study—and I will learn.” She spoke her final statement as if she dared him or anyone to stand in her way.

Just then the door flew open and Virginia appeared, bestowing a beaming smile upon James and a curt little nod toward Carolina.

“Mother said you might be in here plotting out the course of Carolina’s studies. I thought perhaps you would have perished from boredom by now.”

“Hardly that, Virginia,” Carolina retorted and made her way to the door.

James’ attention was riveted on Virginia as she made her entrance, but out of the corner of his eye he spotted Carolina watching him thoughtfully. When Virginia turned to look at the notes on the table, he winked at Carolina and offered her a smile as if to reassure her that he’d not forgotten her. Embarrassed and scarlet faced, Carolina hurried from the room. James leaned back, a perplexed smile still lingering on his lips as Virginia began prattling about something he couldn’t focus on. Educating Carolina Adams should prove to be more entertaining than he’d originally imagined. Then with a sobering thought James realized he had not once thought of Phineas or the railroad during his encounter with Carolina. Perhaps her education would prove to be more than entertainment. Perhaps it would actually take him away from the confines of his grief.

24

Misunderstood

“But the railroad is an important part of what I want to learn,” Carolina stated with determination. “I have been interested in the locomotive since I first saw it, and there are things about it that I want included in our studies. Such as physics.”

“
I’m
not interested in talking to you about the railroad,” James replied firmly. His voice sounded almost angry, causing Virginia to look up from where she sat on the divan, sewing.

They had argued about this topic every single day for the last three weeks. Every time she brought up the subject, Carolina hoped that enough time would have passed for James to feel agreeable to dealing with the subject. And each time proved to be more of an argument than the day before. She couldn’t understand why. James had been working on the railroad just prior to his accident. He
must
know much about it and have an interest in it.

She glanced out the window at the dreary winter day. A storm was brewing that might bring the first snow. Carolina supposed she was not being fair to James. He had been a worthy tutor these past weeks and she had few complaints. Yet she had been so hopeful that the railroad would be part of her studies. It was difficult to accept his stiff-necked attitude about the subject, considering his experience. One would think he’d be dying to get involved once again with work he had trained for.

She tried to be patient as she said, “I realize you suffered a great deal in your accident, Mr. Baldwin, but I also know you held a solid interest in the business before that. My father said—”

“The matter is not open for discussion!” James exclaimed adamantly, surprising both ladies with the force of his tone.

Carolina strode to where he leaned against a chair. A few days ago he had discarded his crutches and was now getting about with the use of a walking stick. Facing him, she stood with arms akimbo. “But why?” she insisted. She hated to be a nag, but she could not let it go. “This is so important to me.”

“And my reasons are important to me.”

Nose to nose they were well matched in their determination. “And if I insist?” Carolina challenged, losing her previous patience once more.

“I’d like to see you try,” James retorted. “I can leave this position tomorrow and be no worse for it.”

Carolina felt her resolve crumble. He was right, of course. She needed him far more than he needed her. It was important to get James to talk about the railroad, but not at the expense of losing him as a tutor. She could think of no response and for once was grateful when Virginia interrupted.

“You two have had the same conversation—or should I say argument?—every day for three weeks. It’s almost Christmas; can’t you put your differences aside and get along for the holiday season?”

Carolina frowned. “You’re the one who wants to marry him, not me.” Carolina ignored Virginia’s mortified look as she continued to vent her frustration on her sister. “I don’t have to get along with him; I merely want him to live up to his part of the bargain. He promised Father to teach me about the railroad.”

“I did nothing of the kind!” James parried. “I told him I would overlook the fact that you’re merely a girl and teach you unconventional studies of masculine interest.”

“Of which the railroad is one!” Carolina raged back.

“Enough, Carolina!” Virginia was now clearly drawn into the argument. “Proper young women do not raise their voices. Why don’t you go upstairs and compose yourself?”

“Yes, I would imagine you’d both like that quite well.”

James smirked. “Anything would be better than this.”

Carolina felt herself close to tears. Virginia was right.

Without another word, Carolina left the room. In the corridor she nearly ran straight up against her mother. Lowering her face so that Margaret wouldn’t see how upset she was, Carolina hoped her mother would allow her to pass without explanation.

“Are your studies concluded for the day?”

“Yes,” Carolina answered as steadily as she could. “Virginia and James are having a discussion.”

“Oh, good!” Margaret exclaimed, the delight clear in her tone. Carolina felt betrayed by this, reminded again that the only reason her mother had agreed to this strange arrangement was in order to put Virginia and James together.

“Excuse me, I need something from my room,” Carolina said, sweeping past without waiting for her mother to reply.

Relieved that her mother did not ask her what she needed, Carolina practically raced up the stairs. If her mother had questioned her, Carolina knew it would be difficult to explain that what she needed most was the solitude and peace of her bedroom. James Baldwin had so disrupted her life that it was impossible to let down her guard anywhere else in the house. And now with James quite capable of getting around the house with the use of a cane, this was more true than ever.

Yes, she was being taught many valuable lessons from James, but still she was not completely content. And the reason had little to do with his reticence to teach her about the railroad. It was far more than that. She’d had such high expectations when her father had first told her he was considering a tutor for her. She simply had not factored in the tension and awkwardness she was now experiencing. The whole situation with Virginia was bad enough. But she could bear that if only she didn’t feel so at odds with James himself. They had reached an understanding that first day, but there was still an air of antagonism between them. It was often subtle, but it was always present. The awkwardness about Virginia and the railroad were mere symptoms of it. They had gotten off on the wrong foot from the very beginning—perhaps as far back as that awful party at the Baldwins’. It seemed they would never get right again.

It would, however, help a little if he’d at least meet her halfway by teaching her about the railroad. Why did things always have to be so hard for her? Was she asking for that much? It didn’t seem so.

No one understands, she thought, not wanting to feel sorry for herself but unable to prevent it. Not one single soul in this house understands who I am and what I desire.

As she slipped into her bedroom, her gaze fell on the dressing table. There lay a copy of the
American Railroad Journal
, a recent gift from her father, which she hadn’t yet had a chance to read.

“Well, perhaps there is one person who understands,” she murmured with tender thoughts of her father.

She took a seat at the table and began leafing through the pages. It was an older copy, dated Saturday, October 3, 1835. The literary section of the sixteen-page periodical told of new books, including one she thought might be of interest to her mother.
The Little Scholar
Learning to Talk
was the title of a book designed to assist mothers in training up their children. It might make a useful tool as her mother taught Maryland. She made a mental note to look for the book when she went Christmas shopping.

On the next page a notice that the Bank of the United States was closing up its concerns made little impact on Carolina. Where was the information about the railroad? This periodical read more like a general-interest newspaper. She found some information related to technical designs of locomotive axles, but it was dry reading and difficult for her to follow with its algebraic formulas and design terminology. Just as she thought to cast the whole thing aside, Carolina caught sight of a brief statement regarding a railroad wreck that took the life of a Phineas Davis. The name struck her as familiar. She scratched her head, then remembered that he was a designer of locomotives. But wasn’t he also the man who was involved in the same train derailment as James?

“Phineas Davis was killed September 27, 1835, as the result of a derailment of one of his engines on which he was riding.” It was the same man; the dates of both accidents coincided. She was just considering the implications of this fact when Hannah appeared to help her dress for dinner.

The old slave seemed to note Carolina’s dour mood and said very little as she slipped the sprigged muslin over her head and went to take out another gown from the wardrobe. Her mother always insisted they dress up for dinner, and with James in residence this rule was strictly adhered to.

Carolina only nodded when Hannah presented the rose-colored satin. The gown was simple, yet elegant, and made Carolina look much older than her fifteen years. The snug bodice was trimmed with ivory lace and fitted with an overdress of powdery rose gauze that gathered at the waist with a wide ivory ribbon and flowed out to cover the skirt of the gown. Lifting her arms to accept the gown, Carolina continued to think of James’ accident. This was the first time she had really given much thought to it and to the fact that a man had been killed. It seemed quite likely James had known that man; perhaps they had been friends. If so, it might answer a lot of questions about his reticence toward the railroad. But was it possible such a tragedy would have turned him against the railroad? Odd, but she had never thought of James Baldwin as a man of such deep sensitivities.