Storm Clouds Rolling In & On To Richmond (Books 1 & 2 in the Bregdan Chronicles) by Ginny Dye - HTML preview

Chapter Seven

Carrie was up bright and early the next morning, but her father had risen even earlier. He was already seated at the table, running his eye over the newspaper as he sipped a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, dear,” Thomas said. “I hate to leave you so early this morning, but I’m afraid my presence is demanded at the Capitol. There is still much work to be done to make sure Richmond is secure.”

Carrie looked up from the cup of tea Micah had placed in front of her. “You think the Union forces will make it all the way to Richmond?” She hated the frightened tone in her voice.

“I think no such thing,” Thomas said. “Our army will send them running back to Washington. But we have to be ready for anything. General Lee has labored long and hard to prepare the defenses of the city, all the while making sure we are ready to face the threat from the North. Ever since our grand city became the capital of the Confederacy, the cry from the Union has been On to Richmond! ” He took another gulp of coffee and smiled. “If I really thought Richmond was in danger, I wouldn’t have brought you here. You’re here because I want to know you are safe.”

“You don’t think I’m safe on the plantation?”

“I don’t know what you are when you’re on the plantation. I’m simply too far away to know what is going on. That’s what drives me crazy, and that’s what prompted the letter pleading with you to come here.”

Carrie jumped up and gave her father a big hug. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Thomas said fiercely.

Carrie hugged him again and moved back to her place at the table. It was better to deal with this now. “I intend to return when the danger has passed.”

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Thomas simply shook his head. “I know it’s no good to argue, but I’m going to hold you to your promise,” he said hoarsely. “You promised me—”

“I would leave the plantation if it became too dangerous,” Carrie finished for him. “You have my word, Father.”

“Can’t you go any faster, Sam?” Carrie asked impatiently.

“Ain’t never learned how to fly one ‘o these things like a bird, Miss Carrie.” Sam’s voice was amused but kind.

Carrie groaned with exasperation but knew he was right. There was no quick way to get the carriage through the mass of humanity thronging the streets that led to the railroad depot. But she had to be there! She had to at least catch a glimpse of Robert before he headed off to battle.

Her father had said Robert would leave from the station at 11:00. She had left the house at 9:30 for what was usually a twenty-minute trip. Thirty minutes later, they had not yet even started up the long hill more than a mile from the station. They had not moved an inch in more than ten minutes.

Carrie bit her lip in frustration. “I’m walking,” she announced and jumped from the carriage.

Sam turned in protest. “Your daddy ain’t gonna like that, Miss Carrie. He done told me—and you, too—that this city done got right dangerous since so many people done been pouring in. Said it ain’t the same city you wandered around in before.” He shook his head firmly.

“No sirree! I can’t let you be walking to the station. You best be gettin’ back in this carriage. I’ll get you there. You see if I don’t.”

“I don’t plan on seeing that you don’t, Sam. I’m sorry to upset you, but I simply have to be at the railroad station.” She hadn’t told him why it was so important.

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Sam’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at her intently.

“This got somethin’ to do with that Mr. Borden?”

Carrie chose not to reply.

Sam’s eyes softened with understanding and something akin to pity. Sam knew what Robert had done that day to his slaves. He knew no more letters came for her. Struggling to control her sudden desire to cry, Carrie spoke abruptly. “I’ll wait for you at the station.”

“Yes, ma’am. You be careful. I don’t want to have to face yo’ daddy if somethin’ done happens to you.”

Carrie began to walk up the steep hill. It was impossible to move fast because of the crush of people, but at least she was moving. Ducking her head, she wove in and out of the crowd as fast as she could.

Suddenly, she was bumped hard from behind and almost lost her balance. Stumbling, she managed to grab onto a lamppost at the last moment to keep herself from falling. Indignant, she whirled around to speak to whomever had been so rude. Richmond may have changed, but there must be some limits.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a well-dressed man of middle age grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Let it be, ma’am.”

Carrie stared up into his blue eyes and tried to yank her arm free. “Did you see what he did?”

Just then voices caught her attention.

“What did you say, buddy?” came a voice was tight with anger.

Carrie quickly scanned the crowd and located the speaker. He was a young man, barely out of his teens, clad in the buckskin garb of the western Virginia Mountains. He had taken a defensive stance, his legs spread wide, his hands loose at his sides.

A man of similar age, with a haughty face and an expensive air, answered his question. “I said I would rather be home than here fighting Virginia’s battle for her!” His tone was both refined and hostile. His accent identified him as a South Carolinian.

“I should say you have some nerve, rich boy,” the buckskin man retaliated coldly. “It was you South Carolinians who started all this trouble. Now it’s being left to Virginia to settle it for you.”

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“You calling us cowards, mountain boy?” The words were delivered with deadly quiet.

Carrie gasped as the Carolinian reached for his waistline and pulled out a sharp knife.

“You care to back up that fancy talk with some action, mountain boy?”

“Have it your way, rich boy!” With a quick movement, the buckskin man produced his own wicked-looking knife.

Carrie slowly backed away, unable to take her eyes from the scene in front of her. She had never seen such a thing in Richmond. The city had its fair share of violence, but it didn’t usually happen in broad daylight, and it certainly didn’t take place in the middle of a crowded street. Angry men usually took their arguments to the dueling fields located on the outskirts of town.

The two men began to circle cautiously, all other pedestrians giving them a wide berth. Some stopped to stare and watch, but most pushed their way on by. That fascinated and horrified Carrie even more than the fight.

Had Richmond actually become immune to violence?

Just as the buckskin man pulled back his arm, the fight was over.

“That will be all, boys.” A tall policeman appeared to tower over the two men. “Y’all got some fighting to do, but it ain’t here in the streets of Richmond. Where you two boys headed?” His firm, no-nonsense voice did the job of cooling off the two men.

The Carolinian was the first to speak. “You’re right, officer. I am due to ship out in less than an hour. I was on my way to the station.”

The policeman scowled. “I think you should be anywhere other than where you are right now. Why aren’t you with your unit?”

Both men, without answering, edged away and melted into the crowd.

Shaking his head and muttering under his voice, the policeman continued on his rounds.

Carrie stared after them and then turned to thank the kind man who was still standing by her side. Now that she had time for a good look, she was instantly drawn to

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the warm blue eyes that spoke of a deep capacity for caring. He reminded her of her father.

“You’re welcome, ma’am. You need to be careful. It’s not a real good idea for ladies to be roaming the streets alone right now.”

“Why, I’ve walked the streets of Richmond ever since I was a child,” she protested.

“Live here now?” he asked.

“I’m from a plantation west of the city,” Carrie admitted.

“You’ll find your city has changed a lot,” he observed.

“Being the capital of a nation at war can do that.”

Carrie stared at him. “Does that happen often?”

“Fights? Not as much now that the troops are on the front. You got to give the boys a little break, though.” He hesitated before answering her questioning look. “These boys been pulled away from home, brought down here to drill and march till they drop, and now they’re being shipped off to fight. A lot of them don’t really know what the war is all about, they’re just doing their patriotic duty and thinking it will all be over soon.” The disdain in his voice was obvious, but the tone was still kind.

Carrie liked him even more. “Who are you, sir?” She astonished herself with her directness, but suddenly it was important that she know who he was.

“Pastor Marcus Anthony,” he replied, bowing slightly.

“You’re a pastor?”

“You’re surprised?” he asked in an amused tone.

Carrie struggled to recover. “You just don’t...I mean, you don’t...”

“Look like one? Thank you,” he replied with a smile.

“No. I mean, yes...” Firmly Carrie pulled herself together. “Excuse me for sounding like a schoolgirl. No, you don’t look like a pastor, but I find I like that. I’m sorry for sounding so flustered. I guess the recent encounter left me a little shaken.”

Suddenly, she remembered why she had been hurrying up the sidewalk. “Excuse me, Pastor Anthony, I must be going.” Not waiting for a reply, she turned and continued her rapid stride, praying she still had time to make it.

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She had just arrived at the train station when she heard the band began to play. Her father had told her that departing troops were sent off with great fanfare. Not caring who glared at her, she edged and shoved her way to the front of the mass of people surrounding the platform. She had just gotten situated when the first troops moved into sight.

Carrie’s heart caught at the young faces, so serious above their smart gray uniforms. Why, some of them were hardly more than boys! Their mothers must be frantic with worry for them, but it was impossible not to see the determination and bravery shining in their eyes. Many of them searched the crowd eagerly for a familiar face, pulling their shoulders back further when they found one.

“Halt!” A strong voice rose above the crowd to direct the troops.

Carrie recognized the voice at once. Her eyes flew to the erect figure bringing up the rear of the column. As his men clicked to a standstill, Lieutenant Robert Borden strode to the front of the line.

Carrie’s heart beat faster as she looked at him. His tall, muscular frame had taken on an erect military bearing.

Every line of his face was set with determination. He had always been handsome, and now he had become distinguished as well. His dark eyes snapped as he reviewed his men.

As the troops remained at attention, the band began to play again. The crowd sang along as the familiar strains of “Dixie” filled the air. The sense of pride and expectancy was a palpable thing you could feel and almost see. Carrie could not help but feel it herself as she gazed at Robert. That he believed in what he was doing, no one could doubt. His eyes were filled with pride and courage as he looked out over the men he would be leading in battle.

Battle

The word surged to the front of her brain, and Carrie was gripped with a sense of fear and urgency. She looked around the crowd and noticed the tear-stained faces full

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of pride and love—families, come to see their loved ones off.

“Go get them, old man!” a strong voice sang out.

Robert’s face lighted with a grin that twisted Carrie’s heart. Following his gaze, she saw another young man standing on the sidelines. The familiar lines of his face said he could only be Robert’s brother, Daniel. She was glad Robert had someone there to see him off.

“All aboard!”

The troops began to file into the train cars as the crowd cheered and the band blared its music. Only when the last one was aboard did Carrie look toward Robert.

Across the span on the loading platform, their eyes locked. She had no idea how long he had been watching her. She drew her breath in sharply and felt the color rise in her cheeks. Still, she did not look away. As she watched, the boyish bravado that he had forged into courage flickered for just a moment. Once again she saw the look only she had ever seen—the flash of vulnerability that lit his eyes and twisted her heart.

“All aboard!”

A shrill whistle accompanied the stern reminder that in moments this train would be heading for the front.

As she thought of Robert in battle, Carrie’s heart conquered her mind. She could not marry him, but that did not mean he had to leave without knowing she loved him. She quickly turned to the man next to her. “Do you have a knife?” she asked urgently.

“A knife, ma’am?”

“Please, I don’t have time to explain. Do you have a knife?”

He looked at her oddly, but the desperate tone of her voice must have won him over. Reaching to his waistline, he pulled one out.

Carrie slipped a lock of her hair out of her tightly coiled braid and cut it off. Handing the knife back to the astonished man, she lifted her skirts and ran across the platform.

Robert was standing with one foot on the step, watching her run to him. The train began to pull away just as she reached him.

“Goodbye, Robert!”

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His dark eyes gazed down into hers, but there was not time for more. The train was picking up speed and pulling away, and Robert was forced to swing up onto the next step. Carrie rushed alongside and pressed her hair into his hand. “I’m counting on you to win this one,” she said in a tremulous voice.

Her mind flashed back to the first time she had presented him with a lock of her hair on the day of the Blackwell Tournament. He had told her he fell in love with her that day—that moment. The tournament had been child’s play, but war was not a game. It was deadly.

“I love you, Robert.”

She had just uttered the words before the train pulled him out of the range of hearing. The crowds continued to cheer and wave as Carrie stood and watched Robert grow smaller. Only when he was out of sight did she finally turn away.

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