Storm Clouds Rolling In (17 page)

Carrie stood quietly at Robert’s side.
She knew what one of Ruffin’s tirades could do. Even the most clearheaded person could become confused by his elegant rhetoric. She knew how difficult it sometimes was to not allow the enflamed opinions of others to form one’s own.

Robert looked down at her.
“Feels rather strongly, doesn’t he?” His expression was one of amused bewilderment.

Carrie laughed up at him. “Our Mr. Ruffin feels quite strongly about a lot of things.
I applaud his passion, but I find I question many of his conclusions.”

Robert nodded thoughtfully, looking at her with admiration.
“My beautiful queen has a head full of brains to match her beauty.”

Carrie just laughed again.
“Please don’t tell my mother. I’m afraid she despairs of me already. I think she would prefer that I quit thinking and simply enjoy being a plantation mistress.”

“And that’s not what you want?”

“Certainly not!” Carrie’s response was immediate. She surprised herself with her openness, but she didn’t regret it. She was being nothing but honest.

“And what is it you want?”

Carrie opened her mouth but then shut it again. She barely knew this man. What would possess her to think of sharing the secret only Granite knew?

Robert took her arm and steered her toward the table.
“Excuse my intrusiveness.”

Carrie hastened to apologize.
“Oh! It’s not that you’re being intrusive. It’s just that—”

“It’s none of my business,” he finished for her.
“You’re quite right, you know.” Robert grinned down at her horrified expression. “It’s quite all right, Miss Cromwell. But be sure of one thing.” He paused for emphasis. “Someday, I hope to make it my business.” Stepping aside, he said, “Now, what would you like to eat, my beautiful queen?”

Carrie could hardly focus her eyes on the sumptuous table.
Robert’s words swam through her mind and caused her to feel short of breath. She struggled to maintain a calm manner and made a show of inspecting the table. In truth, she was hungry. Lunch had been hours earlier and the light meal before the ball had worn off ages ago.

The traditional Blackwell Ball feast was spread out on a table more than twenty feet long.
It fairly groaned under its load of hand-dipped chocolate fruits, cheesecakes, cookies, fresh fruits, and cheeses. The other end was piled high with savory meats, breads, and biscuits. Huge bowls of punch, cider, and harder brew for the men lay in wait.

Carrie smiled up at her escort brightly.
“I’ll eat because I’m hungry, but you have to promise me we can dance longer.”

Robert laid his hand over his heart and bowed deeply.
“Nothing would keep me from that honor, m’ lady.”

Carrie was exhausted.
She smiled gratefully as Natalie and Sally lifted her ball gown over her head, and then released her hair and allowed it to tumble down her back. She reached for her brush, closed her eyes, and made big sweeping draws through the ebony mass. Her whole body cried of tiredness. It had been such a long day. That morning and the carriage ride seemed days ago. Even the tournament seemed as if it had happened in another age. It was the dancing that filled her mind—the swirling, gliding, and swinging that never lost its delight for her. She could still see Robert, so tall and handsome, gazing down at her. Laughing. Talking. She just wanted to go to bed and dream about it. Never had she felt this way before. She needed time to analyze it. To understand it. She looked with longing at her feathery mattress on the floor. A few more strokes...

“Carrie?”

“Yes, Sally?”

“What the men were talking about tonight
? I couldn’t help but overhear Mr. Ruffin. Is he right? Is the North really going to come down here and destroy our way of life?”

Carrie hesitated.
She wished she knew the answer to that question. “I don’t know, Sally. But I do believe the South needs to do all it can to stay within the Union.”

“Oh, pooh!
I hate all this talk about secession and slavery, states’ rights against the Union… I’m sick of it.”

Carrie looked at Louisa in surprise.
She hadn’t really thought the girl listened enough to what was said around her to even know what was going on. She watched as the blonde swung around on her dressing table bench and waved her brush in the air.

Louisa continued.
“I tell you, I’m sick of all this talk and I won’t hear any more of it. There are more important things to talk about.”

Carrie wasn’t surprised she felt that way.
Louisa had always wanted to push away whatever wasn’t pleasant. If she ignored it, she figured it would go away. From what Carrie could tell, that seemed to be the mentality of most plantation women. Focus on what was important and let the rest of the world spin on by. That was fine with her tonight. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to sleep.

Sally had other ideas.
She was clearly troubled. “But what if he is right? What if the time comes when we’re not safe with our people? It’s happening you know. Just the other day I heard of some slaves’ uprising. They killed their master and his wife. They even killed the little boy—only a few months old.” Sally paused, the fear standing out against her creamy features. “I’m afraid. What if soon none of us are safe?”

Carrie tried to comfort her.
“Sally, that’s pure nonsense. You’re good to your slaves. Why would they want to hurt you? Those slaves who killed their master were probably badly treated. That would never happen to you.” She could only hope she was right. She knew her own mother was afraid of the same thing. Carrie had overheard her talking about it with a friend who had come to visit.

Louisa shook her head again.
“I mean it! I don’t want any more talk of that kind in my room. I’m sick to death of it.” Her blue eyes flashed and she glared around the room until Sally nodded meekly. “If we’re going to talk about something, we’re going to talk about the wonderful ball tonight.”

Louisa seemed to have gotten over her initial anger at
being passed over as queen. Carrie gave a silent sigh of relief, but she looked up to see Louisa regarding her with a condescending smile.

“Robert really is quite noble, Carrie.”
Louisa laughed lightly. “Anyone could tell he wanted to choose me. What a perfect gentleman that he would select you just because you let him ride your horse. It really is a pity, though, that he felt so indebted. One should feel free to act from one’s desire, not from a sense of obligation.”

Carrie stared at her in astonishment but said nothing.
She knew the truth. She had spent a few minutes alone with Natalie before Louisa came into the room. Nathan had saved the night. Nathan, knowing his sister and not wanting to see her spoil the evening for his new friend, had engineered things beautifully. He had seen to it that not one dance went by without an escort for Louisa. In truth, it hadn’t been difficult. Louisa, when she wasn’t angry over not getting her own way in some situation, was quite charming. Her beauty had long lured fellows to her side. It had not taken long for Louisa to fall into the spirit of the ball and even be overheard telling people she was
so thankful
that Robert Borden fellow
hadn’t felt obligated toward her.

Louisa continued, “I do believe that Graham Jackson was quite taken with me.
Natalie, what do you know about him? He seems to be a friend of our neighbor, Clinton Fortson. Mr. Fortson is usually careful about the type of people he associates with. What can you tell me about him?”

Natalie shrugged and turned to Carrie.
“Carrie, your father is awfully involved in politics. What does he really think is going to happen?”

Carrie hesitated.
She knew how Louisa hated to be thwarted.

“Don’t you answer that silly old question, Carrie Cromwell.
I mean it! I will not have this talked about any longer.”

Carrie turned to the angry girl.
“I don’t think they mean any harm, Louisa. Don’t you know our whole world may be changing? Don’t you care?”

“Oh, pooh!” Louisa cried.
“These men and their little play fights don’t mean anything. Things have always been this way—someone disagreeing with someone else over some petty thing. Nothing’s going to change.”

Carrie stared at her friend.
She knew there was nothing she could say. Exchanging a meaningful look with Natalie and Sally, she laid her brush down and moved toward her bed. “Goodnight.”

NINE

Rose put her finger to her lips in warning as she and Moses eased from Sarah’s tiny cabin. She pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders, patted her front pocket to make sure the forbidden paper was there, and looked carefully around. It would not do to be seen. She knew not everyone in the quarters was to be trusted. There were those who would sell out their own people in order to gain perceived favors. Rose grieved over those who were slaves not only in their bodies but also in their minds.

The furtiveness of her actions spoke a truth louder than words.
Many were those who were enslaved by force, but there were just as many who had been taught to believe their own best interests would be served only by abiding the wish of their master. They believed the lie that they were inferior and could only rise to the level of the master through slavery. Rose knew that once the brainwashing was complete and the slave’s mind destroyed, the slave would enslave himself. There would be no need to escape, for only through captivity could their dreams be achieved. She saw this in the eyes of many of the Cromwell slaves that had spent all their lives in slavery. That reality gave her the courage to do what she was doing. She was determined she would never be like them. She was willing to take the risks.

Moses followed Rose quietly as she headed for an unseen opening in the woods and slipped onto an almost invisible trail.
Indeed, it was visible only to her, and she knew every dip and bend. Moses stayed close to her shadowy form as they melted into the dark forest.

The ebony night bent to embrace them, swallowing any evidence of their having been there.
A soft wind whispered encouragement as they forged forward. The softness of the spring night wrapped itself around them, lending them courage to keep going. Every night sound seemed to whisper a refrain.
Break the bonds. You are more than you believe. Break the bonds. You are meant to be free...

Rose continued to move forward gracefully, her thoughts on Moses.
He walked as silently as she did, but she was aware of his powerful presence just behind her. She could imagine the fear he must be feeling. Her mama had told him to be careful, and here he was doing a thing that would certainly earn him a beating if he was discovered. He had made his choice, however, and she was glad to have him with her.

After several minutes
, the trail took a plunging descent. Rose came to an abrupt halt and looked around carefully. Only blackness and the shadowy outlines of trees met her gaze. She felt Moses edge up next to her. She said nothing, just sank to the ground in a sitting position. Moses joined her, drawing his long legs up against his body. Still Rose made no sound. She knew a million questions must be rampaging through Moses’s mind, but he stayed silent.