Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (20 page)

             
“I’m Robert Borden.”

             
Silas nodded with satisfaction.  “I knew I was right.  Now can we stop playing our games?” he snapped.  His voice grew gentler.  “I know you have to be careful, boy, but my stomach is just saying it wants to eat - not that it wants to play games.”

             
Robert grinned suddenly.  “Our stomachs are in agreement, Silas.”

             
“Good!”  Silas said heartily.  “Follow me.”

             
Robert was hard-pressed to keep up with the agile old man as he wove his way through throngs of people crowding the streets.  Music spilled from lighted saloons.  Colorfully dressed women strolled arm-in-arm with elegantly attired gentleman.  It reminded him of Richmond when the war was still young - before it became a battered, tired city under siege.  He watched wistfully as a dark-haired beauty laughed gaily up at her handsome escort.  Carrie would love this.  An ache shot through him. 

             
“We’re almost there!” Silas called out loudly, continuing to thread his way through the masses.

             
Robert took a deep breath and pushed on.  Soon he was seated in front of the most sumptuous meal he had had in months.  He felt guilty as he shoveled in the thick slices of ham and turkey, the mounds of steaming vegetables, and the slabs of fragrant bread.  Finally he shook his head.  “I don’t get it,” he mumbled through his last bite.  “Fresh food is as scarce as gold in the capital.”

             
“That’s what we hear,” Silas agreed.  “We can get the supplies in here, but getting them to Richmond is another matter all together.  Sometimes the army claims it for their men; sometimes the shipments just never get there.  Not to mention that we just don’t get enough.  Oh sure, the people of Wilmington are living high on the hog, but you don’t have to go far before it changes.  Wilmington and Charleston are the two main ports left for the blockade-runners.  We just can’t get enough through here.”

             
Robert looked around, thinking that if the people of Wilmington lowered their standards a little, other people might not be so afflicted.  He said nothing, though.  He was playing just a small part in Davis’ plan, but if the scheme worked, the stranglehold on supplies to the South would be destroyed.  Then no one would suffer. 

             
“When do I meet Captain Bueller?”  He was anxious to be on his way. 

             
“I’ll take you to his ship in the morning.  You’ll leave as soon as the time is right.  The captain is anxious to be on his way.  I don’t think you’ll have too long a wait.”  Silas nodded at the bowls of food still in front of them.  “You’ll want to eat up, boy.  Captain Bueller isn’t one to take up a lot of space with food.  He’s more interested in how much cargo he can take.  It’s how he makes his living.”

Carrie smiled wearily at Hobbs as she climbed into the carriage.  Janie followed her closely.

              “How are the two fellows who got beat up?”  Hobbs asked, looking around warily as Spencer gathered the reins and urged the horse forward.

             
Carrie smiled again, this time genuinely.  “They will be fine.  They’re still sore, and Jubal’s broken arms will take a while to heal, but they will recover.”  She leaned back against the seat and then waved again to Pastor Anthony, who was still at the door to the hospital and watched them move down the road. 

             
“Thank you for coming down here with us,” Carrie told Hobbs gratefully.  “I have a feeling Robert didn’t give you much of a choice though, did he?”

             
Hobbs shook his head firmly, one hand resting on the rifle lying across his knee.  “I told Robert a long time ago I would look after you.  Then you and me became friends.  That just gave me more reason to make sure you stay safe.  Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you and Miss Janie as long as I’m around.” 

             
Carrie looked at Hobbs tenderly.  At twenty-one, she was only a few years older than he was, but his youthful appearance made him seem much younger.  Warren Hobbs had the fierce loyalty common to mountain farmers.  She knew he would lay down his life in a second for either her or Robert.  Robert had asked him to accompany Carrie when she went down to the black hospital.  Hobbs was already invaluable to her at Chimborazo where he acted as one of her ward assistants.  He took his newest duty with solemn seriousness. 

             
Still, Carrie was nervous as she peered into the dark shadows.  Was Pickett waiting there with his friends?  It was no secret which days she came to the hospital. 

             
“Do you see anything?”  Janie asked anxiously.

             
Carrie shook her head and forced herself to settle back.  Her nervousness wouldn’t help any of them.  She struggled to control her shudder.  She had been having nightmares ever since Robert left.  Without his protective embrace to shield her from frightening thoughts, the dreams haunted every sleeping moment.  They were all the same. 
Pickett and his men killing Spencer and then coming after her - their hideous laughter taunting her just before they grabbed her.
   She had almost been too afraid to come down today but had finally scorned herself into facing her fear. 

             
The ride back to the house passed uneventfully.  Had Pickett seen Hobbs and his rifle and decided it wasn’t worth the risk?  Carrie was relieved beyond words when the carriage rolled up to her father’s house. 

             
Janie turned to Spencer.  “Could you come in the house for a minute?  I could use your help with something.”

             
“Sure nuff, Miss Janie,” Spencer said obligingly.  “What you need?”

             
“Micah is waiting inside for you.  I would like the two of you to move my things back into Carrie’s room,” she said firmly.

             
Spencer nodded easily and swung up the walk.

             
Janie turned to Carrie before she could say anything.  “You are not staying in that room alone another night.  I can tell you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since Robert left.  I’ve heard your cries.  You’re having nightmares, aren’t you?” she demanded.

             
Carrie fought her tears.  “I’m such a silly weakling,” she said scornfully.

             
“Nonsense!” Janie snapped but then reached forward to hug her.  “It will be good for me, too.  I miss our late night talks.  I promise to move back to my room like a good girl when Robert gets home.”

             
“Oh, Janie,” Carrie cried.  “Do you think I was silly not to go to London?”

             
“It doesn’t matter what I think.  You did what you felt you had to.  That’s what I love about you, Carrie Cromwell.  You’re not afraid to live your convictions.  Even when it hurts.”  Janie stepped back.  “I’m starving.  Let’s eat.”

Carrie was startled awake by another nightmare.  Bolting forward in bed, she glanced over at Janie.  Her friend continued to sleep soundly.  She must not have cried out this time.  Shaking her head to cast away the images, Carrie rose quietly and walked to the window. 

              It was a beautiful night, a crescent moon perched on the horizon, its shimmering sliver hanging as if suspended on an invisible thread.  A soft breeze rustled the leaves and fanned her hair away from her hot face.  She sank down onto the window seat and rested her head against the frame. 

             
As she gazed east, she realized her dreams carried her far beyond Cromwell Plantation.  Now they transported her out onto the Atlantic Ocean, with her searching for the ship that carried the love of her life.  Tears spilled down her cheeks as the ache of missing Robert flooded her.  Her breath came in shallow gasps. 

             
She felt Janie touch her shoulder gently.  “Let it out, Carrie.  Let it all out.” 

             
Sobs shaking her body, Carrie turned and fell into her friend’s arms.  “I was a fool!” she cried.  “I was a fool not to go!”  She clinched her fist and slammed it against the window frame.  “I could be with Robert right now.  I don’t care about the hospital!  I don’t care about sick people!  I don’t care about being a doctor.  I just want to be with Robert,” she gasped, gulping to catch her breath. 

             
Janie said nothing, just held her tight.  Carrie didn’t know how long she cried before she began to gain control of her tears.  Finally she sat back.

             
Janie stroked her hair back from her flushed face.  “It’s okay, Carrie.  It’s okay,” she murmured. 

             
“It’s
not
okay!”  Carrie cried.  “Don’t you understand?  I can’t catch a train and go join him.  He’s probably halfway across the Atlantic now.  I have no idea when I’ll see him again!”  The tears threatened to gain control again.  “He’s my husband.  I should be with him!”

             
“That’s enough,” Janie said firmly.  “No one but you can say whether your decision was right or wrong.  It doesn’t matter now anyway.  It’s been made.  Now you have to live with the consequences of it.”  Her voice softened.   “You did what you thought was best, Carrie.  Robert respected your decision just as you’ve respected his decisions in the past.”

             
Carrie gulped back her tears and tried to listen.

             
Janie settled back on the window seat.  “Grandma Alice used to tell me God can use a bad decision just as much as a good decision.  She figured God didn’t turn his back on someone when they made a bad choice.  He just got to work figuring out how to make good come from it.”

             
“God makes me so angry sometimes,” Carrie cried suddenly.

             
“Angry?”  Janie asked carefully.

             
Carrie nodded.  “He knows I’ll do whatever he wants me to.  It’s just figuring it out that’s so blamed hard.  I felt so right about my decision not to go to London.  Now I’m so afraid I made the wrong decision.  And now it’s too late to change it.  If God wanted me to go to London, why didn’t he make it clearer?”

             
“If I were God, I would tell you,” Janie said calmly.  “Since I’m a mere mortal, I’m afraid I have no answer to that.”   She paused.  “What would Old Sarah have told you?”

             
Just the mention of Old Sarah’s name brought a smile to Carrie’s lips.  “She would have told me that thin’s just ain’t as black or white as we want them to be,” she said softly, slipping into the slave lingo.  “She’d have told me God can redeem anythin’ if I just give it to him.”  She turned to stare out the window again.  “She’d have tole me I was lettin’ fear win out.  That fear ain’t a bad thin’ till it takes control of your heart.” 

             
The breeze picked up, swirling the curtains around her.  Carrie leaned farther out the window with her relishing the feel of the wind against her face.   She closed her eyes and let it sweep through her soul and blow away the cobwebs of fear and doubt.

             
Finally she pulled back in and turned to Janie.  “I may never know whether I was supposed to go to London.  But you’re right.  I can’t change it.  I have to deal with my life the way it is now.”  She reached out and grabbed her friend’s hand.  “I’m so glad I have you to share everything with.  Thank you.”