A Promise for Tomorrow (31 page)
“I will do that,” James said, then grew rather sheepish. “In fact, I’ve already promised to bring her to the tunnel site when the weather is stable. I might even let her go down into the shaft.”
“The Irish won’t like that. They’ll see a woman on the grounds as bad luck.”
“How about if she doesn’t look like a woman?” James added, shrugging. More than once that winter, Carolina had pulled on an old pair of James’ wool trousers to add warmth to her own wool pantalets. It was seeing her do this that gave James the idea to disguise her and bring her to the tunnel in order to get a firsthand look at their progress. He knew it was hard for her to be removed from the workings of the railroad, and the family had demanded so much of her time and attention that she rarely had a moment for anything else. But James remembered her eagerly poring over his own engine designs when he’d been her tutor at Oakbridge. He could still see the delight in her expression as she pondered the ideas set forth by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.
“I think she’d make a jim-dandy young boy, don’t you?” James asked, unable to keep from smiling.
Latrobe chuckled. “I’d like to see that myself.”
“Stick around,” James replied.
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve made a promise to the board and to the men. I’m going to constantly move up and down this line until it’s completed. It’s good for morale and it helps me to have a firsthand knowledge of exactly where we stand. Swann thinks it a perfect solution to knowing for sure whether or not we can boast completion by 1853.”
“And what do you think so far?”
“I think we can do it,” Latrobe replied. “Maybe even by late 1852. The most difficult tasks will be the bridges and tunnels, but we will do it this time. Swann will get us there come drought or high water.”
“It’s hard to imagine after all these years,” James said, thinking of how impressive it would be to find the line completed. “It seems we’ve struggled so long to reach the Ohio.”
“Well, it isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. There are many problems to deal with, and no doubt there will be conflicts and trials aplenty before we actually find ourselves on that muddy bank of water. If we can keep down the labor disputes and squabbling among the townsfolk and legislators, we will certainly progress more rapidly.”
“I believe the compromise reached here was a good start,” James said. He tried not to frown at the thought that Red might just turn around in another six months and strike again. Worse yet, he fully expected the man to continue retaliation against those who were not Connaughtmen.
“Compromise is the key to every productive partnership,” Latrobe remarked, gathering his things.
To Carolina, spring and summer of 1850 passed not in dates on calendars or the ticking of the clock, but in new skills mastered and wisdom attained. Life in Greigsville, Virginia, was certainly not what she had imagined it while dreaming away in her plush Baltimore home. Somehow, while she knew it certainly would not resolve all the problems of life, Carolina had convinced herself that living together as a family and being near the action of the railroad would be enough to keep her content. But that wasn’t the case.
There was a growing restlessness inside her that caused her to turn inward, desperately searching for some missing element. How could she not be happy? She had her lovely family, all safe and healthy. She and Miriam had managed to create a comfortable home, and with the arrival of additional Baltimore supplies, the house was taking on a strikingly pleasant air. James had even arranged to add two rooms to the first floor, as well as a porch that wrapped around the front and side of the house, giving them a place to pass the evenings together.
Greigsville itself had also grown and developed over the past year. In fact, it had rather experienced an explosion of people and services. They could now boast two schools, two churches, and several stores, one of which she and James owned, with the Kaberlines hired to manage it. There was also in the town a post office and resident doctor. Much of the St. John money was invested in the town and Carolina couldn’t think of a better use for it.
The Irish had managed to take advantage of the building materials offered by the railroad, and while some still lived in tents, more houses dotted the hillsides and valleys than before the November riot of the previous year. James had said there were at least eighty houses either completed or nearing completion, and all of them were filled with families living contentedly off the prosperity of the growing community.
But even with this, Carolina found herself discontented. Every day she would watch her husband saddle up and ride to the tunnel site, and every day she would find herself longing to go with him. She knew it was impossible. She simply did not live in a culture that would accept or allow her to participate in the masculine world of railroads. Even her dearest friends, Thomas Swann for one, chided her for her attempts to involve herself in places where she would only gain the disdain of those around her. Still she studied whenever time allowed. As was often the case, she would incorporate some of her own interests in the studies of her children, and while the two oldest attended the new school, she still tried to work with them to expand their minds and embrace new interests. Her interests.
Victoria couldn’t care less. The time she spent in study was sheer misery, and Carolina knew she despised having to go to school. This alarmed Carolina, who had always seen the university in Victoria’s future. It was becoming far more widely accepted to allow women to study, even if it was still rejected that they should want to do anything with that knowledge. But Victoria found no pleasure in learning. She seemed to enjoy reading and had even confided in her mother and father that she was attempting to teach Kiernan O’Connor to read, but outside of that, she wanted no part in formal education.
Kiernan was, of course, another matter entirely—one which Carolina refused to allow herself to dwell on for long. With her rambunctious Jordana and studious Brenton, she had little time to consider any matter at length. Jordana and Brenton both seemed to outgrow their clothes on a regular basis, and already she’d had to order shoes twice for the growing boy, refusing to let him go barefoot, as many of his friends were wont to do. Jordana, at four, was too young to go to school, and made it very clear that she thought this a terrible injustice. She spent her days pining for her siblings, running races around Carolina and Miriam, and generally getting herself into one mess after another.
Carolina no longer found it shocking to see Jordana walk into the house carrying frogs or insects, although she had obeyed her father’s order to leave snakes alone. It was business as usual when she had to pull a curious Jordana back up after dangling over and nearly falling into the opening to their new well. It even ceased to be that startling when Jordana disappeared following an afternoon nap, only to be found atop the porch roof. It seemed she had come to her parents’ bedroom in search of Carolina, but found instead an open window and the lure of what waited beyond.
For all of Jordana’s busyness, Brenton was calmer and more easily occupied, but his interruptions came in the form of deep, introspective questions. “How high is the sky?” “How many days would it take to walk all around the earth?” “Why do we eat deer and cattle but not dogs and cats?” Nearing seven years old, Brenton felt that no bit of knowledge should be kept from him, including the operative workings of his father’s musket. But where Jordana would have simply pulled the weapon off the wall for inspection, Brenton very calmly approached his father and asked for a demonstration and information concerning the matter.
Carolina was very grateful for Brenton’s obedient, easygoing nature. She was also blessed by it. Her son’s thoughtfulness came out in many ways. He generally did his chores without being asked, having learned early on that the sooner the necessary tasks were accomplished, the more time there would be to do what he wanted to do. He often found berry patches and surprised Carolina with a pail of fruit. On one occasion he had told his father of a particular trinket that he wished to purchase for his mother, and worked extra chores in order to earn the money for the item. The gift turned out to be a broach locket, which Carolina cherished because it had come from Brenton’s efforts, and was given for no particular occasion except that the giver wanted to bestow it upon her.
Even now, as she settled herself in her bedroom to read the latest letter from Oakbridge, Carolina knew that her blessings were many. Knew, in fact, that they outweighed any of her tribulations. So why should she feel so discontented?
She positioned her chair beside the open window and breathed deeply of the fading summer warmth. Soon autumn would be upon them, and after that she knew full well what to expect. The previous winter had brought heavy snows and moderate cold, but it was the isolation that Carolina didn’t look forward to. Days and weeks when folks could scarcely come or go. Dark, depressing skies that threatened bad weather and kept the freighters and mail held up in Cumberland, leaving the residents of the small town to wonder if the rest of the world had fallen off the map and left them behind.
She tried to shake off these oppressive thoughts and opened the letter from home. Instantly she experienced a flood of joy over the feathery script of her mother’s handwriting. How she longed to see her—to talk with her.
1850, August 20
Dearest Daughter,
I pray this letter finds you and your family in good health. Oakbridge
is alive with activities as we prepare ourselves for the upcoming winter. We
anticipate a good harvest and your father is pleased. The livestock, as well,
have produced an abundance of young, and November will find us able to
butcher and smoke some fifty hogs without at all compromising the stock
remaining.
Virginia has been confined to bed by the doctor. Her condition grows
more fragile as her time to deliver approaches. She seems to have lost her joy
of living, and I cannot help but fear for her state of mind. As one who knows
the delicacy of such matters, I see ever-growing telltale signs that Virginia
is in peril. Please remember her in your prayers. She is much changed by
the years and the bitterness in which she has surrounded herself. I wish I
might have been here to help her in the early years of her marriage and
motherhood, but alas, I cannot turn back the hands of time.
Otherwise, the state of affairs remains much unchanged. Your father
is still working too hard and concerns himself overmuch with the issue of
slavery. He says it tears at the very binding threads of this nation, and I
fear he may be right.
Carolina, I cannot say how very much I long to see you and the children.
Knowing that those dear babies live not so very far away, but much
too far for me to journey to, is a great sadness. It is my dearest wish that
you might come and bring your family home to Oakbridge.
Carolina felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. “I miss you so much, Mama,” she whispered. Her tears fell upon the pages of the letter, and unable to go on, she set the letter aside and gave in to her longing and despair.
She wanted to go home. Wanted to see her family and to hold them. She wanted to show her children off and to know the comforts of the house she’d grown up in. She had no idea of the time that had passed until James’ voice sounded from the doorway.
“Carolina? What is it?”
She looked up, startled to find him home. She hurriedly wiped her tears. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say.
He came to where she sat and questioned her again. “What has happened? Did you have bad news from home?”
She tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a stifled sob. “No, only good news. Well, Virginia is unwell, but other than that . . .” she trailed into silence, knowing her attempt at normalcy was impossible.
She folded the letter and looked up at her worried husband. “I am truly all right.”
“That is why I find you sitting alone, sobbing?”
His voice was tender, and this was her undoing. “Oh, James,” she said, and tears began to flow again.
He drew her into his arms and held her tightly against him. Carolina knew she had unduly worried him, but she couldn’t keep the tears from coming. She clung to him, desperate to find strength in his embrace, but the longing inside would not be denied.
“Please,” he whispered against her hair, “please tell me what is wrong.”
She tried to shake her head. “Nothing is truly wrong,” she answered. “At least if it is, I don’t know what it is.” She struggled to control her misery. “I know I miss my mother, and her letter only opened the longing to see her.”
James lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his sympathetic expression. “I know you miss her. Carolina, why don’t you go home for a time? I can’t leave just now, but you could go with the children and Miriam. I’d get you to Cumberland somehow, and from there you could take the train into Baltimore. You could see Mrs. Graves and Cook and the house, and then go on to Washington and Oakbridge. Would you like that?”
Carolina felt her spirits soar. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. In fact, it will free me up to give a more concentrated effort to the tunnel work. We’re coming upon some particularly rough elements and my full attention will be needed. You could stay with your folks for as long as you like, although I would like you home before the first snows. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without my family here.”
She reached a hand up to touch his cheek. “You always seem to know exactly what I need.”
“Maybe more so than you give me credit for.”
She smiled ever so slightly. “You’ve always known, haven’t you? Since I was fifteen and you played tutor to my curiosity. You’ve known me in ways that I’m only learning to know myself. How can this be?”
He returned her smile and reached a hand up to wipe a remaining tear from her cheek. “We are kindred souls, you and I. To know you better is to know myself. I’ve long felt your unhappiness and wanted to suggest you take this venture, but I didn’t want you to perceive it as my trying to get rid of you. I’ll be miserable while you’re away, but I know it will do you a world of good.”
