Spring Will Come (75 page)

             
Spring would come.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Are you sure that’s all you want to take?”  Janie asked.  “How in the world did you develop such a huge stock of herbs?”

              Carrie’s gaze swept the hundreds of bottles lining the basement shelves.  “There wasn’t much else to do the long winter I spent here before I went to Richmond.  I spent hours down here every day.  Something was driving me to do it.”

             
“And yet you’re only taking back that one bag?”

             
Carrie held up the large bag she had stuffed full.  “There’s really not room for any more,” she said regretfully.  “I want to make sure I have some if someone in our house falls ill.  Medicine is so hard to come by.  I would take it all back if I could, but it just isn’t possible this trip.  I plan on coming back when the roads improve enough to bring a wagon. This should at least get us through the winter.” 

             
She turned away from the shelves.  “We’d better get going.  I think Sam is right.  There’s another snow storm on the way. Father will worry himself sick if we’re not back by tonight.”

             
The goodbyes were brief but heartfelt.  Sam, Opal, the kids, and the rest of the slaves down in the quarters stood on the porch and waved until they were out of sight. 

             
“What a wonderful place,” Janie said fervently.  “I will miss it.  I know we’re needed in Richmond, but I would love to stay here.”

             
Carrie nodded thoughtfully.  A few days ago she would have said the same thing.  Now she was ready to face what Richmond held for her.

             
“What happened that day?”  Janie asked suddenly.

             
Carrie smiled.  She knew what day Janie was referring to.  She groped for words to explain it.  She knew Janie had been yearning to ask ever since she had returned from her special place.

             
“I’m not trying to pry,” Janie said quickly.  “It’s just that you seem so different.”

             
“You’re not prying.  I’m just not sure how to explain it.”   Carrie paused.  “You said the night we got here that hard times can either make or break a person.  I was very close to allowing them to break me.”  She stopped again.  “I guess I’m just trying to grow up.” 

             
Janie nodded understandingly and reached for her hand beneath the thick layer of blankets Sam had tucked around them.  

The snow Sam had predicted was already several inches thick when Spencer finally drove the carriage into the barn.  “I reckon I’ll be headed home now,” he said wearily.  “Soon as I get Max here taken care of.”

              “Not until you’ve had some good hot food,” Carrie said firmly, trying to control her shivering.  “You take care of Max.  I’ll have May prepare you something to eat.  Don’t head back into the storm until you’re warm and full.”

             
“Thank you, Miss Carrie,” Spencer murmured, rubbing his hands together.  “I’ll be in shortly.”

             
Micah was waiting just inside the back door when Carrie and Janie entered, stomping their feet to rid them of the clinging snow.  Carrie took one look at him and frowned.  “What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.

             
“There’s been an outbreak of smallpox, Miss Carrie,” he said soberly then hesitated.  “There’s lots of people in the city who done got it.”

             
Carrie’s heart caught.  “My father?”

             
“He’s real sick,” Micah admitted. 

             
“How long?” Carrie asked sharply, pushing aside thoughts of a hot bath.

             
“Since the day after you left.”

             
Carrie groaned.  “What did the doctor say?”

             
Micah shrugged.  “He wanted your father to go into the hospital, but, of course, he refused.  Said if there was no treatment he would rather take his chances at home.”  He paused.  “Is there really no treatment for smallpox?”

             
“I’m afraid not, Micah.  At least not any commonly accepted treatment.”  She turned to May.  “May, please fix Spencer something hot to eat.  He’s freezing and exhausted.”  Then she turned to Micah.  “I’m going up to check on my father.  If you could fix some hot tea and bring it up, I would appreciate it.”  She paused.  “Please take water up for Janie to have a hot bath, as well.”

             
“I’ll have it right there, Miss Carrie.”

             
Then she turned to Janie who was opening her mouth to protest.  “It doesn’t make sense for both of us to be cold and tired.  Go ahead and take a warm bath and get some rest.  I’ll need you once you feel better.”

             
“I’ll take a bath once I know I can’t do anything to help,” Janie said firmly.

             
Carrie smiled, turned, and ran up the stairs.  Smallpox!  She knew too well the dreaded effects of the disease.  The patient first developed a high fever and horrible body aches.  Two to four days later a rash resembling thousands of small pimples would appear on the face before spreading to other parts of the body.  During the next week, the pimples became larger and filled with pus until they finally scabbed over.  The scabs would fall off in three to four weeks, leaving scars.

             
Her father was awake when she entered the room.  “Hello, Father,” she said gently, trying not to show any reaction to his flushed face already covered with the rash.

             
“I’m glad you’re home,” Thomas said weakly.  “I’m sorry this isn’t much of a homecoming.”

             
Carrie moved forward and laid her hand on his forehead.  It was burning hot.  Quickly she turned to Janie.  “Please have Micah bring in buckets of snow.  Then bring my bag of herbs to me.”

             
She turned back to her father.  “You can hardly run the government like this,” she teased. 

             
“Well, if you can give me a hard time, you must not be too afraid I’m going to die,” Thomas replied hopefully. 

             
“You will be miserable for several weeks, but you will be okay.  Your fever is high, but you still have a spark in your eye.  I’m glad you chose not to go the hospital.  There is nothing they can do for you there, and you would merely have exposed yourself to even more infection.  Home is the best place for you right now.”

             
“I was afraid you would be angry,” Thomas said sheepishly. 

             
Micah stepped in with a huge tub of snow.  Janie was right behind him with Carrie’s bag.  Carrie opened it quickly, heaving a sigh of relief as she pulled out several smaller bags bulging with cloves of garlic.  “I’m just glad I’ve been to the plantation.  I have everything I need to treat you right here.  We’ll have to let the disease run its course, but these will help with some of the symptoms at least.”   Digging deeper, she pulled out a bag labeled
Boneset.

             
“What’s that?” Janie asked curiously, watching over her shoulder.

             
“Aunt Sarah called it gravelroot.  This bag holds dried flowers and leaves.  The roots are used for something else.  Boneset is good for high fevers.  I’ll make a tincture out of it.”

             
“How do you make that there tincture stuff?” Micah queried.

             
“It’s not hard,” Carrie smiled.  “I’ll steep the dried herbs in a mixture of vodka and water.  The alcohol extracts the active ingredients, as well as acting as a preservative.  I’ll give Father five drops several times a day until the fever goes away.”

             
“And the garlic?” Janie asked.  “I thought it was good for coughs.”

             
“It is, but that’s only the beginning of what it can do.  Aunt Sarah called garlic the miracle herb.  I think she was right.  There is very little it’s not good for.  I’ll mash the fresh cloves and rub them directly on the sores.  It will keep them from getting too infected and may help with the scarring.”

             
“I’m afraid no one will want to get near me,” Thomas replied with a weak smile. “I should smell just lovely.”  Then he frowned.  “Is my being home going to put all of you in danger?  What about Micah and May?  They’ve both been exposed.”

             
“What about the boarders?” Carrie asked sharply, already wishing she had brought more herbs home.

             
“None of them been around your daddy,” Micah said quickly.  “Ain’t no one been in this room since your daddy took sick ‘cept me and May.”

             
Carrie smiled.  “Good!  Smallpox is a very infectious disease, but Aunt Sarah taught me about a herb that helps you resist infection.  Thankfully, I brought some of it.  It’s called purple coneflower.  I’ll make a tea by simmering the herbs in water for one hour.  I would like everyone in the house to drink a half cup of the brew three times a day – even the boarders.  It will have to be made fresh daily,” she said firmly.  “We’ll just deal with fresh cases if they happen.”

             
Quickly she instructed Micah in how to wet a towel in the snow and then hold it to her father’s head.  “I’ll be back up in a few minutes.  Janie and I will make the treatments.”

             
Janie was silent until they reached downstairs.  “I wonder whether this winter will ever end.  People are freezing and hungry already.  Now they have to deal with an outbreak of smallpox.”

             
Carrie nodded heavily.  “Many people will die.  They simply won’t have the strength to deal with the disease.  Father is one of the fortunate ones.”  She stepped to the window and stared out at the swirling snow.  “Spring will come,” she said softly.

Robert stared at his leg, willing it to move as Polly performed the exercises.  Amber stirred the rags around in the hot water
and waited to cover his legs with them again. 

             
“You feel any movement?”  Amber asked excitedly.

             
Robert had grown used to Amber’s continual question.  At first it had irritated him because the answer was always no.  Finally he had seen it as evidence of her undying hope and had been able to appropriate his own hope from it.  He shook his head calmly.  “Not yet, Amber.”

             
“That’s okay, Robert,” she said brightly.  “It’s gonna be any day now.”

             
It was a ritual as familiar as the sun rising.  Robert took comfort from it.