Spring Will Come (58 page)

             
Carrie looked up quickly when Dr. Wild’s voice sounded over her shoulder.  “Certainly, Doctor.”  Grabbing her coat as she passed the rack, she followed him out of the ward.   A brisk wind was blowing, making her grateful for its warmth as she hugged it close.  November had roared in with colder temperatures than normal.  All the signs indicated it was going to be a bad winter. 

             
Dr. Wild scowled as he pulled his own coat closer.  “I’m afraid we’re not going to have enough wood to make it through the winter.  Dr. McCaw is doing everything possible to put in a sufficient supply, but wood is getting harder to come by.”

             
Carrie knew he was right.  Her heart ached for the people in the black section of town.  They always suffered most when supplies ran short. 

             
“Many people are going to suffer this winter,” Dr. Wild predicted.  He turned to look down at the river, whitecaps dotting its surface as the wind whipped at the water.               

             
Carrie waited patiently.  Dr. Wild was worried about something. 

             
Finally he turned to her.  “I hate to ask you this, but I need people I can trust.  Dr. McCaw is afraid we are going to experience a severe shortage of drugs this winter.  The blockade will be harder to run when it gets colder.  He has asked me to inventory our remaining supply.  Some of them seem to be disappearing without just cause.”

             
“Someone is stealing them?” Carrie gasped disbelievingly.

             
“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Wild said grimly.  “Can you stay longer tonight and help inventory them?”

             
“I’d love to,” Carrie said instantly.  Then she remembered.  “But I can’t,” she finished.  “I’m so sorry,” she said contritely.

             
“Plans with your father?” Dr. Wild asked.  “I understand.”

             
“No.”  Carrie didn’t want him to think a social engagement was more important than his request.  “It’s...”  She didn’t know what to say.

             
“It’s okay.  I understand you have other plans.  We’ll be working on it for a while.  Maybe you can help another time.”

             
“I would be happy to.”  Carrie paused, something pushing her.   She was learning to listen to her instincts.  “Dr. Wild...”

             
“What is it?”  Dr. Wild looked at her in concern.  “Is something wrong?”

             
Carrie laughed.  “No,” she said quickly.  “I just don’t know how to tell you something.”  She and the doctor had become close friends in the last several months.  She knew they shared a mutual respect for each other’s abilities.  Would he think less of her if he knew what she was doing?  His opinion of her was important, but she realized it wasn’t worth compromising her integrity for.  If he thought less of her for doing what she believed was right, she would rather know.  “I can’t help you because I promised the hospital down by the river I would be there tonight.  I go there every Tuesday and Thursday.”

             
Dr. Wild looked puzzled.  “I don’t remember a hospital down by the river.  I thought I knew all of them.”

             
“This isn’t one you would be aware of,” Carrie admitted.  “It’s a hospital for the black community down near the warehouses.  They have a serious need for medical care.”
              “I see,” Dr. Wild said slowly, with a curious look in his eyes.  “How long have you been doing this?”

             
“About two and a half months,” Carrie replied.  She was suddenly eager for him to understand.  “The people down there can’t get help from the other hospitals. A pastor - a friend of mine - started it.”

             
“Who is the doctor?”

             
Carrie was instantly flustered.  “I’m afraid you’re looking at her,” she said quietly.  “The people down there don’t care about my credentials.  They couldn’t get anyone else.”

             
“They’re simply happy you care enough to come down.”

             
Carrie looked at Dr. Wild closely but saw nothing in his eyes except interest.  “Yes.”

             
“What do you use for medicine?  It must be very difficult to obtain.”

             
“I’m afraid we can’t get any at all,” Carrie responded.  “But we’re doing fine.”  Now that she had decided to tell him, he might as well know the whole truth.  “We’re using other things.  Herbs - and other plant remedies.”

             
Dr. Wild continued to stare at her.  “There is a book coming out shortly,” he said slowly.  “The medical community is searching for substitutes in the absence of traditional medicines.  I am most interested to read it.  It drives me mad that my patients are suffering for lack of drugs.”  He paused for a long moment.  “May I come down to your hospital?”

             
Carrie took a sharp breath. 

             
“I have no desire to usurp your authority there,” Dr. Wild said quickly.  “I would just like to come and see what you’re doing.  Perhaps I could learn something.”

             
Carrie stared at him, hardly able to believe her ears.  “I would like that very much.  I have learned so much from you.  It would be wonderful if I could give something back.”

“Dr. Wild is coming down after he gets the people started on the inventory,” Carrie told Jane excitedly.  “Isn’t that wonderful?”

              “Why?”  Janie asked bluntly.  “Aren’t you afraid he will make fun of our methods?”

             
Carrie had thought about that already.  “I don’t think he will,” she said, shaking her head.  “He’s not like that.  I truly think he wants to learn.  He’s deeply worried about running out of drugs this winter.” 

             
When they reached the bottom of the hill, Spencer was waiting in his normal place.   Carrie was so grateful her father didn’t question what she used his driver for.  She was confident Spencer would never reveal where he took them.  Now that the days were getting shorter, their trips down into the black section of town were becoming more dangerous.  Both she and Janie knew that, but it was a risk they had decided to take.  Coming back through the crime-ridden streets of Richmond at night was not very wise, but the situation made it imperative. 

             
“How’do, Miss Carrie.  Miss Jane.  Same place?”

             
“Yes, Spencer,” Carrie said with a quick smile.  She and Janie climbed in and settled back.  They were past Capitol Square and heading down the hill that would take them along the river when Spencer pulled the carriage up short. 

             
“Looks like trouble, Miss Carrie,” he said softly.

             
Carrie craned to see over his shoulder, her blood turning to ice.  A group of scruffily dressed white men were blocking the road.  Swallowing her fear, she stood up in the carriage and spoke firmly.  “Please clear the road. We have business to tend to.”

             
“Business like treating them blacks down by the river?” one man sneered, stepping closer. 

             
The whole group tightened and edged forward. 

             
Carrie stared down at Janie for a quick moment then raised her voice.  “I don’t see that what I do with my time is any business of yours,” she snapped.  “Now, please clear the road.”

             
Another man laughed.  “We heard you’re real high spirited, Miss Cromwell.  We figure you ought to just turn that carriage around and go on home.”  His voice ended in a menacing growl.

             
Carrie could feel Spencer tighten his muscles.  She was sure he would protect her.  She was also sure he was no match for these men.  He would be badly hurt.  Images of what could happen to her and Janie spun through her mind, but she pushed them aside.  Now was no time to give into fear.  These men were like a pack of animals - they would smell it in an instant.  She decided to try reason.  At the very least, it would buy her some time.  “Why do you men care what I do with my time?” she demanded.

             
“We know all about your setting slaves free,” one of the men stated, stepping forward boldly.

             
Carrie examined him.  She guessed him to be in his mid-forties, brawny from outdoor work, his gapped teeth stained with tobacco.  The bold look in his eyes made her nervous.  It was obvious he had been drinking. 

             
He continued speaking.  “You know there’s laws against anti-government activities.  We figure you’re helping them niggers go free when you’re down there in the hospital.  The boys and I figured we’d better do our patriotic duty and make sure that didn’t happen anymore.”

             
“That’s ridiculous!”  Carrie snapped, her anger rising.  “The people I treat are sick.  They’re not going anywhere. Besides, almost all those people are already free.”

             
“The people you
did
treat,” another man remarked casually, stepping forward as he held up a large stick.  “We ain’t got no mind to hurt anyone, so I reckon you just better turn around and go on back to your rich daddy.  It don’t sit too well with us to watch a white lady helping them heathens.”

             
Carrie’s blood was boiling as she cast about in her mind for a way to get through. 

             
“What’s going on here?” a sharp voice boomed from behind her. 

             
Carrie spun around and looked at the well-dressed man standing on the sidewalk about ten feet away.  “These men are blocking the road,” she said crisply to hide her relief.  “They refuse to move.”

             
The stranger eyed the motley crowd of men for a few minutes then slowly raised a pearled revolver.  “I think the lady wants to get through, gentlemen,” he drawled dangerously.  “You best be moving on.”  His voice left no room for argument.

             
The men stationed in front of the carriage growled and began to move forward.

             
“I said move on!” the stranger barked, pulling back the hammer on his gun.  “I’d hate to see some of you fellows shot.  I happen to be sympathetic to what you’re feeling, but this isn’t the way to handle it.”  He paused for a long moment.  “Now move!” 

             
The group turned, scowling and muttering under their breath.  The man who had threatened her with the stick whirled back around.  “We’ll be keeping an eye out for you, Miss Cromwell.  Don’t think this is over.”

             
Carrie held her breath as they eased away.  When the ruffians were several hundred feet from the carriage, she turned to the man who had rescued them.  “Thank you,” she said quietly, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. 

             
“Don’t bother,” the man snapped.  “Does your father know you are doing this, Miss Cromwell?”

             
Carrie could only stare at him, her heart sinking. 

             
“I thought not.  Thomas Cromwell would have enough sense not to let his daughter do what you’re doing.  I stopped that crowd this time, Miss Cromwell.  I won’t be around next time.  Even if I were, I wouldn’t step in again.  If you want to take your life in your own hands by treating black people, you will have to be responsible for your own foolishness.  I rescued you this time because of the high regard I hold for your father.  I find my high regard is somewhat mixed with pity now.”  He stopped and glared at her.  “I’ve heard the rumors about your activities with black people.  You are in the South, Miss Cromwell.  Don’t forget it.”  Having delivered his final word, he spun on his heel and stalked off.

             
Carrie slowly sank back to her seat and stared after him.  “Well.”

             
“You be wanting to go back to the house now?”  Spencer asked in a shaky voice.