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

Chapter Fourteen

Carrie stared out over the fields, satisfied with the progress being made. She had been home only two weeks, but already fifty of her father’s acres had been plowed under and reseeded with food crops. She would have done more, but that was all they could handle. It had been a tremendous amount of work to pull up the maturing tobacco plants and haul them into the woods where they were now rotting in the August heat. They wouldn’t go to waste, however. Next year, the compost would be worked back into the soil to nourish another generation of plants, whether it be a cash crop of tobacco, or more food. They had done all they could do. Now they could only hope for a long, warm fall. Food production would end with the first frost.

Carrie rode out into the fields every morning to check on the growth of her plants. She knew it was silly. It was too soon to expect anything more than barren dirt. Still, this had become her new passion, and she was pouring her heart into it. And she loved being out in the fields on Granite. The early morning rides rejuvenated her and gave her time to think. Every other minute of the day was filled with work.

This morning, however, she didn’t even want to think.

A cool wind had blown in the night before, and she wanted to enjoy the soft breeze on her body and take deep breaths of the recently turned earth. She couldn’t really explain her feeling of peace right now. She had been so torn about leaving Richmond. So much of her had felt she should stay there—that she was needed in the city. All it had taken was having the carriage wheels roll onto Cromwell Plantation. Once more she had been at peace, confident she was where she was supposed to be for now.

There was something more, though. Something she didn’t quite know how to express. A feeling that she should make all she could of this time.

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“Carrie!”

Carrie looked up and saw Rose riding toward her. She urged Granite into a canter and rushed to meet her.

“Rose! Is something wrong?”

“No,” Rose said, smiling. “I’m just coming out to deliver a message from my mama. She wants you to come for lunch.”

“She sent you all the way out here to invite me for lunch?”

“Yes. She insisted I come so that you wouldn’t make other plans. I didn’t mind.”

Carrie thought it odd that Sarah had sent Rose all the way out to the fields, but she didn’t say anything. “Ride with me for a while,” she said suddenly. She knew there was work to be done, but she felt it was important just to be with Rose. It was another of those feelings she was learning not to analyze. She interpreted the hesitant look on Rose’s face. “We won’t be out that much longer. The work isn’t going anywhere, and we’ve had hardly any time together since I got back.”

“Where to?”

Carrie surprised even herself with what she did next.

“Follow me,” she called, swinging Granite around and breaking into a gentle canter. They weren’t that far away.

Carrie pulled Granite to a stop on the bank of the river and turned to Rose.

“This is your special place, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

Carrie nodded. A long, comfortable silence stretched between them as they gazed out over the water. The breeze rustled the leaves overhead, creating its own background music. “Do you like it?” she asked.

Rose nodded.

Carrie looked at her more closely. She was startled to see tears shimmering in Rose’s eyes. “Why are you crying?”

Rose smiled through her tears and answered the question with one of her own. “Why have you brought me here?”

Carrie thought before she spoke. At first it had been pure impulse, but now she knew it wasn’t. “When I was younger, it was important to me to have my secret special place. I didn’t want to share it with anyone. It was my

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place to come and be whomever I wanted to be. Now I don’t need a secret place for that. I’m strong enough to be me wherever I am. My secret place has now become just my special place.”

She paused, picking her words carefully as the thoughts firmed in her mind. “I think when you get older, special places become more special when you can share them with the most special people in your life. It adds to the memories.” She reached out and touched Rose’s arm.

“You are one of the most special people in my life. You are my best friend. You are like a sister to me.” Tears sprang to her own eyes. “I don’t know how much longer we will be together. We both have dreams that are going to take us in different directions. I don’t really know,” she said a little helplessly. “I just knew I wanted to bring you here.”

Rose gazed at her for a long moment. “Thank you,” she said in a trembling voice. She paused as if struggling for words and then continued. “You’ve told me before that I’m your best friend. It’s been hard for me to believe that sometimes. I mean... I think of you as my best friend, but it’s hard to get over the slave-owner thing sometimes.”

She put up her hand when Carrie opened her mouth to protest. “It’s impossible for you to understand how I feel.

You’ve never been a slave.”

Carrie closed her mouth. She couldn’t argue with that.

She could try to understand, but she would never fully comprehend what Rose had felt over the years.

Rose looked her squarely in the eyes. “I love you, Carrie Cromwell.”

Carrie wasn’t embarrassed by the tears pouring down her cheeks. “I love you too, Rose.” A long moment passed, and then she asked, “Do you mind not having your own last name?”

“What?”

Carrie laughed. “I’m sorry. I guess I spoiled the moment, but I just thought of it all of a sudden. I mean, my name is Carrie Elizabeth Cromwell. Your name is Rose. I know you are supposed to take on the name of Cromwell since my father owns you, but doesn’t that seem strange to you? Wouldn’t you like to have your own last name?”

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“You can change subjects and moods faster than anyone I know,” she declared. “But yes,” she said thoughtfully, “I’d like to have my own last name someday.

Moses and I talk about it sometimes—what we will call ourselves when we are free. What name we will give our children.” Her eyes shone as she talked. “We haven’t decided.”

Carrie smiled. “Make sure I know what it is so that I can find you if I ever need to.”

Rose nodded. “I wonder what Miles calls himself now.”

“Or Jasmine,” Carrie added.

She smiled as she thought of the wild jubilation that erupted in Sarah’s cabin when she had read them the part of Aunt Abby’s letter that spoke of Miles and the rest reaching freedom in Canada.

“Do you like growing up?” Rose asked.

“Talk about changing moods and subjects,” Carrie teased. She sobered as she thought about the question.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I still want to be a little girl with all of my problems taken care of for me. Then I think I wouldn’t give up my new freedom for anything. I like making my own decisions,” she said. “I guess I don’t always like living with the consequences, though.”

She thought again before she spoke. “I’m not sure I like growing up right now. The whole country seems to have gone crazy. Your mama told me something the last time I talked to her, though.”

“What’s that?”

“She told me every generation of people thinks they are growing up into a harder time. She thinks maybe it makes them feel better about the struggle they have leaving their childhood behind. I’ve thought about it, and I think she’s right. Right now, we have this war going on.

Not so many years ago, we were fighting the War of 1812.

Before that was the fight for independence. The generation before that was trying to carve a life out of a wilderness. The one before that was fighting oppression in England. I guess there’s always something hard going on.”

Rose nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Your mama told me something else. She said folks can blame bad decisions on the times being hard, or they

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can admit they made a stupid mistake and fix it. She said that’s the real sign of growing up—when you don’t blame your mistakes on other people or circumstances.”

“That sounds like my mama,” Rose said with a laugh.

Long moments passed while they stared out over the river, both lost in their own private thoughts. Finally, Carrie roused herself. “We’d better get back or they’re going to send out a search party.” She reached over to squeeze Rose’s hand, but she spoke no more words. She had said everything there was to say.

Carrie was whistling as she strode down the path to Sarah’s cabin. It had been a good morning. When she returned from her ride, she headed straight into the office. It had taken her the last two weeks to get the books caught up, snatching little morsels of time when she could find them. When she snapped them shut just minutes ago, everything was up to date.

Sarah was watching for her when she rounded the curve that led to the quarters. Carrie smiled at the sight of the tiny woman standing on her cabin step. As usual, her face was wreathed in smiles.

“Howdy, Miss Carrie. I’m real proud you could join me for somethin’ to eat.”

Carrie leaned down to give her a hug. “Hello, Sarah.

Thank you so much for inviting me.” She looked around the cabin and was surprised to find it empty. “I thought Moses and Rose were joining us.”

“No,” Sarah said shortly. “I just invited you. I got some thin’s I be wantin’ to say to you.”

Carrie tried to discern the look in her eyes. It was a look she had never seen before and could not interpret now. She knew better than to ask questions, though.

Sarah would tell her when she was good and ready. “What are we having for lunch?” she asked instead.

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“Just got done bakin’ some sweet taters. I’d reckon you’d get mighty tired of them things after a while, but I learned a long while back that you wouldn’t be happy without some o’ my taters.”

“Nobody cooks them like you, Sarah.”

“Nonsense! Taters be taters, but you can believe whatever you want to believe. Always did anyway.”

Carrie laughed and sat down at the tiny table. She lifted the edge of a rough napkin and sniffed appreciatively at the biscuits staying warm underneath.

Then she looked in surprise at the fire. Sarah was the only one in the quarters that didn’t cook over the community fire in the heat of summer. “Is that a chicken you’re cooking, Sarah?”

“Looks like a chicken to me.”

Carrie couldn’t hide her surprise. “A chicken in the middle of the day? Is there some special occasion I’m not aware of.”

“I’d say you’re pretty special, Miss Carrie.”

Carrie looked at Sarah sharply. Her voice had grown softer when she made the last comment. What was going on? A feeling of uneasiness crept into Carrie, though for the life of her she couldn’t identify why.

Sarah laughed then. “You gots too many questions, Miss Carrie. Can’t an old woman do somethin’ nice for somebody she cares about without havin’ to be pestered with so many questions?” The teasing was back in her voice.

“Sure you can, Sarah.” She patted her stomach. “I’m starving!”

“That’s more like it,” Sarah said with satisfaction.

Within moments, they were seated in front of a feast.

Carrie moaned in delight as she took a bite of her tender, piping hot sweet potato, savoring the taste as it melted in her mouth. Her long ride had indeed made her hungry.

She didn’t care about talking anymore until her stomach was full.

When she finished, she looked up to see Sarah staring at her. “Is there something wrong with the way I look?”

she asked teasingly.

“What you doin’ bout your dreams, Miss Carrie?”

Sarah asked.

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Carrie wondered what had prompted that question, but she knew by looking at Sarah that she had something she wanted to say. Whatever it was, Carrie knew it would be worth hearing. “My dreams are there, Sarah. I’m just waiting for the right time to make them come true. I know I’m supposed to be here for right now.”

“You gettin’ scared to leave this plantation, girl?”

Carrie thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m content for now because I’m where I need to be, but I dream about the day I can leave. I dream about going to school to be a doctor.”

“You make sure of that.” Sarah paused. “Sometimes people can think they have dreams. They can ponder on those dreams and make them seem like the most important thin’ in the world. But then they wait too long to make them dreams come true. Thinkin’ bout them dreams becomes more important, and safer, than actually livin’ them dreams. When their time comes, the dream don’t have ‘nuff power to get past their fears.” She looked long and hard at Carrie. “Then they spend the rest o’ their life regretting them dreams passed them by. I don’t want that for you, girl.”

“I don’t want that either, Sarah,” Carrie said softly, still wondering why Sarah had picked today to tell her all this.

“You been studyin’ them books yo’ Aunt Abby sent you?”

Carrie flushed and shook her head. Sarah was talking about the large package of medical books Aunt Abby had sent her just before the mail had stopped. She had sent a note saying the books would give her a head start until she could leave the plantation.

“Why not?” Sarah snapped.

“I’ve been so busy,” Carrie protested. “I barely have time to do the things I have to do.”

“Nonsense.” Sarah leaned forward and fixed Carrie with her eyes. “You listen to me good, girl. You done got the healin’ gift, and you got it good. It ain’t nothin’ you done. It be a gift from God. But you better not let that gift go to waste. You got to stretch it. You got to work it.

Dreams are like that, too. You got to stretch ‘em. You got

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to work ‘em. Most of the people in this world have dreams, but they too lazy to make ‘em come true. They want it to be easy. Big dreams don’t come easy, you hear me?”

Carrie nodded, listening with all her heart. She had seldom seen Sarah so intense.

Sarah continued. “I don’t want to hear nothin’ ‘bout being too tired to work on your dream. You go’s ahead and do the thin’s you got to do, and then you work on that dream. God’ll give you the strength to do it when you think you don’t got none. And another thin’,” she added in a stern voice. “Make sure you ain’t fillin’ up yo’ days with dream killers.”

“Dream killers?”

“Dream killers,” Sarah repeated, nodding her head.

“They be all those thin’s you think be so infernal important. You step back and take a look. Them thin’s may not be all that important. Not if they be robbin’ you of yo’ time to follow yo’ dream. This here plantation will suck you dry if you let it. There always be one more thin’

that need to be done. You can one-more-thin’ yo’ way right into the death of yo’ dream.” She paused again. “You got what I’m sayin’ to you, Miss Carrie?”

“I’ve got it.” Carrie nodded. “You’re right as usual. I’ve been letting other things take up my time. I’ve been waiting until I could leave, rather than making the most of my time here to prepare.” All the wasted hours raised their heads to taunt her. “I’ll start studying tonight, Miss Sarah. I’ll do all I can to make sure I’m ready for my dream,” she promised.

Sarah nodded her head, obviously satisfied with what she saw and heard. “I believe you,” she said. “Just you remember one more thin’. God be the one that plants dreams in yo’ heart. Them thin’s you think be sent yo’

way to kill yo’ dream? They really be thin’s sent to make you stronger—better able to live that dream. Don’t you be runnin’ away from the hard times. Embrace them and suck all you can out of ‘em.” She closed her eyes briefly.

“I’m tired. I think I’m going to lie down for a little while.”

Carrie had never in her life heard Sarah say she was going to lie down in the middle of the day. “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.

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Sarah opened her eyes and barked a laugh. “I’m right as rain,” she said. “Can’t an old lady get some rest if she needs it?”

Carrie nodded, trying to ignore the uneasiness she felt deep inside.

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