On to Richmond (60 page)

             
With a sigh he turned his mare to the North.  It had become increasingly dangerous to break through Union lines in search of runaway slaves, but the price offered him had pushed away his misgivings.  He knew that by the time he found them, the slaves may have reached help.  Then his presence alone would not be enough to turn them back.  He reached behind his saddle and gained comfort from the solid presence of his whip.  A pat at his waist confirmed the presence of his two pistols, and his rifle rested in its case on the saddle. 

             
Adams had exacted enough of an advance from the man to make it worth his while to simply turn around and go home.  He could write later and tell the man his search had been unsuccessful.  No one would be the wiser.  The lure of money was strong enough, however, to cause him to turn his mare north.  He would see what he could do.  Thomas Cromwell would not leave Richmond anytime soon. 

             
And Adams would not be in Philadelphia for long.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

              Carrie breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage pulled away from the plantation.  She had been waiting for a break in the weather - one long enough to dry out the roads.  She felt if she were on the plantation even one day longer she would go crazy.  The weather had been intolerable since the beginning of the year.  Cold rain had kept her indoors for days at a time.  She had read huge stacks of books and had made considerable progress through the medical books, but the loneliness of no one to talk to was eating at her heart and spirit.  As soon as the roads were passable, she had asked Sam to take her to Richmond.               

             
Carrie snuggled deeper under the heavy load of lap rugs Sam had laid across her.  It was typical February weather.  The sun struggled to make itself felt, but the biting wind and the bone gnawing cold reigned supreme.  Stark, barren trees stood out in glaring relief against the blue sky.  There were still patches of snow hiding in shadowed areas of the woods, but the rest had melted away, leaving brown grass to stretch before her.  Carrie tugged her hat down a little farther over her head and prepared to endure the rough road winter had designed.

             
“You all right back there, Miss Carrie?” Sam called.  “This here road be a little rough.”

             
“You will not hear one word of complaint from me,” Carrie called back cheerfully. 

             
Sam turned around to look at her and grinned at the sight of just her eyes peeking above the rugs.  Then he frowned.  “I’m glad you’re going to Richmond, Miss Carrie.  It ain’t natural for a young girl like you to stay cooped up all alone on that plantation.  You need to be with other young folks.”

             
Carrie couldn’t have agreed more.  The four walls of her house had begun to close in on her.  She wanted to sit down and talk to someone about what was going on in the world.  She wanted to tell someone what she was learning. And so she had decided to leave for a while.  But she was basically leaving the plantation to run on its own.  She was handling everything now that Moses was gone.  Not that she expected any trouble from her people.  There would simply be no one there if a serious need arose. 

             
Yet she knew she had to go.  She was emotionally on edge and knew she would be good for no one if she didn’t take this opportunity to get away.  She would be back in plenty of time to take care of the final preparations for spring planting.  Once she had something she could throw all of her heart into again, she would be fine.

             
Carrie could feel the heaviness in the air as soon as they reached Richmond.  The streets were as crowded as ever, but there was a pall covering the whole city.  She heard very little laughter and saw few smiles.  Tight groups of people wearing frowns and concerned expressions gathered on every corner and around every light post.  Carrie stared at them.  What had happened?

             
The last letter from her father had come a few weeks before.  In it, he had told her of Jackson’s successful campaign against Romney.  Had the tide changed since then?

             
Suddenly Carrie was anxious to get to the house.   She resisted the urge to tell Sam to go faster, knowing he was doing the best he could.  Finally they inched their way down Broad Street and broke out of the traffic somewhat.  She counted the streets impatiently and almost cheered when they reached 26th Street. Just then a raindrop splashed onto the rug covering her.  Carrie looked up and groaned.  She had been so deep in her thoughts she had not even been aware another bank of dark clouds had swallowed the sun.

             
“Looks like you timed your trip just right, Miss Carrie,” Sam said cheerfully.

             
“It certainly looks like it,” Carrie agreed.  “But what are you going to do?  How are you going to get back to the plantation?”

             
Sam shrugged and cast a practiced eye at the sky.  “That rain ain’t gonna get too serious about things for a while.  I reckon I got time to make it home ‘fore the roads get too bad.”

             
“You’re going back tonight?”  Carrie asked, startled.  “It will be dark before you get there.  And the roads will be horrible.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You should stay at Father’s.”

             
Sam looked down at her with a smile.  “Are you orderin’ me to stay here, Carrie girl?”

             
“No,” Carrie said quickly.  “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”  She didn’t know how to tell her faithful slave that she thought he was getting too old to endure such bad conditions anymore.  She understood male pride - black or white.

             
Sam laughed.  “Then don’t you be worryin’ none ‘bout me.  The sky gonna spit for a while, but these here clouds ain’t moving very fast.  I got me a plantation to look after.  I reckon I’ll be headin’ on home sho ‘nuff.”

             
Carrie said nothing.  She recognized that look in Sam’s eyes.  She also knew he felt responsible to make things run smoothly while she was gone.  “Thank you, Sam,” she said softly as the carriage rolled to a halt. 

             
Sam nodded, stepped lightly down, and picked up her two bags to carry inside.

             
Just then Thomas Cromwell strode out onto the porch.  “Carrie!  I was hoping you would come soon.  I figured the last few days would be your best chance to beat the soggy roads.”  He reached down to envelope her in a big hug.  “It’s wonderful to see you, dear.  Come inside where you can get warm.”  Then he turned to the old black man standing to the side.  “It’s good to see you, Sam.  Thank you for bringing Carrie into the city.”  Then he frowned.  “Is Charles still sick?”

             
Carrie thought quickly.  She had counted on her father being at the Capitol when she arrived so that she wouldn’t have to explain about Sam’s driving her.  “No, Father,” she said.  “I asked Charles to stay behind to watch for Jewel’s foal that is due any day.  I thought that was most important.”  She was relieved when her father gave a pleased nod.  At the same time, she felt that familiar nausea that came from lying so blatantly.  It was becoming harder and harder to deceive this man she loved so much. 

             
“So it’s Jewel’s time, is it?  She was always one of my favorite mares.  I hope all goes well.”

             
“I’m sure it will,” Carrie said reassuringly, glad to know her story had been so easily accepted, yet heartsick at the non-questioning trust it represented.  “She’s very strong and healthy.”  She frowned slightly as her father turned and started up the walk.  She had wanted to surprise him with the news of the beautiful colt Jewel had dropped just the week before in the middle of a horrendous storm.  Carrie had known her time was soon so had gone out late at night to check on her.  She had arrived just in time to witness the birth.  Never would she forget that miracle.  She was excited to tell her father.  Now she would have to wait longer - and the story would have to be substantially different. 

             
Carrie turned to exchange a conspiratorial look with Sam.  He touched his hand to his hat.  “I reckon I’ll be on my way now, Miss Carrie.”  He moved to get in the carriage.

             
Carrie frowned.  “You will do nothing of the sort,” she said firmly.  “Not without something hot to drink and eat first.  You’ve been sitting on that seat for over three hours.  It won’t take you long.”

             
“Yessum, Miss Carrie,” Sam said meekly. 

             
Carrie wanted to laugh.  She knew this show was for the benefit of her father who stood on the porch listening.   She watched as Sam climbed back onto the carriage seat and drove around to the back of the house.  Then Carrie turned and ran lightly up to stand beside her father. 

             
“It’s wonderful to be here, Father,” she said with a bright smile.  Then she stepped back and looked him more fully in the face.  She had not seen such a strained look since he had met her on the porch of the plantation house with the news her mother was ill.  “What’s wrong?” she asked sharply. 

             
Thomas managed a weak smile.  “Come inside, dear.  We can talk in there.”  He paused.  “Let’s just say there is much going on in our country right now.”

             
Carrie followed him into the house, grateful for the warmth reaching out to her.  Fires blazed in every fireplace.  She heard the back door open and close, and then the murmur of voices.   She knew May would fix Sam something to eat. Thomas moved forward to stir the fire.  Carrie studied him from the back.  Every line of his body spoke of deep tension and fatigue.  He had just turned from the fire when she heard the back door again and then the rattle of carriage wheels.  Sam was obviously more concerned about the movement of this new storm than he had let on.

             
Thomas walked over to his chair and settled into it.  Then he reached for his pipe and began to tamp it slowly. 

             
Carrie could not stand the suspense one moment longer.  “Why aren’t you in the office, Father?  Why are you home in the middle of the day?  Are you sick?”
              Thomas shook his head.  “I didn’t reach home until early this morning.  The governor insisted I get some rest.  I will head to the Capitol shortly.”

             
“What has happened?  The whole city seems to be covered with a blanket of gloom.  I haven’t seen you look this bad in a very long time.”

             
Thomas tried to smile.  “The South has taken some very hard hits, I’m afraid.  The news from all directions seems to be nothing but bad.”

             
“The last letter I got from you said the news was good.  Jackson had taken Romney, and northwestern Virginia was once more in our control.”

             
Thomas nodded.  “I did write that, didn’t I?  Seems like ancient history,” he mused with a frown.  Then he straightened.  “I’m afraid our forces evacuated Romney a week or so ago.  I did receive some good news, though.  General Jackson has withdrawn his resignation.”

             
Carrie stared at him.  “Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

             
Thomas managed a real smile this time.  “I’m sorry, dear.  You’re right.  I’ll start from the beginning.  Maybe it will help me make some sense out of it myself.”  He stared into the fire for a few moments and then looked up.  “Jackson did indeed occupy Romney - just as he planned.   He left some of his men to hold that area, took some of his troops to Bath to hold that area, and then returned to Winchester himself.” 

             
Carrie had only one question at this point.  Her father correctly interpreted the look on her face and saved her from having to ask.

             
“Robert returned with General Jackson to Winchester.  Then he was sent back to Richmond.  We spent several hours talking about the campaign.”

             
“Robert is all right?” Carrie asked, managing to keep her voice casual. 

             
Thomas nodded.  “He and his men had a rough time of it, but they came through.  There are a lot of men, though, who I fear will not fight again.”  Briefly he described the sickness and injuries that had plagued the winter campaign.

             
Carrie shuddered.  She couldn’t imagine how the men must have suffered.   She had tried to envision herself out in the mountains like that, but it had been impossible.  She had been anxious about Robert ever since the night she had been so certain he was in danger.  It was wonderful to know he was all right. 

             
Thomas continued.  “Jackson left General Loring and his men in Romney to hold it.”

             
“What happened?”

             
Thomas shrugged.  “Seems the general and his men didn’t like the conditions there very much.  Said they had suffered quite enough for one winter and they saw no reason to hold Romney because they didn’t see that it had any strategic value.  They started a letter writing campaign.  To make a long story short, Secretary of War Benjamin ordered Jackson to have them withdraw from Romney.”