Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (45 page)

             
It was past midnight when Hobbs turned onto the narrow drive leading to the plantation.  Carrie sat straight in her seat, gripped by both excitement and dread.  She yearned to speed up time and be there.  Another part of her wanted to slow it down - to delay the discovery of her home destroyed. 

             
“We’re almost there,” Hobbs said cheerfully.  “I reckon we outsmarted them Yankees this time.”

             
Carrie clasped her hands and leaned forward.  A pale moon cast its milky glow over the pastures lining both sides of the road.   She longed to glance over and see Granite cantering beside the fence.  She smiled as she remembered how eagerly he would prance around the gate until she came to greet him.  At least she knew Granite was alive and well, stabled in her father’s small barn until Robert came back from Europe.  She had wanted to ride him out but knew the wagon was necessary to haul back all the bottles of herbs. 

             
Carrie squeezed her eyes shut as the wagon approached the curve that would deliver them to the front of the house.  She scolded herself for her fear but kept her eyes squeezed tightly anyhow.  Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought the house might not be waiting for her.

             
“You can open your eyes, Carrie,” Hobbs chuckled. 

             
“Is it there?” she asked, keeping them shut.

             
“Well, if you’re talking about a beautiful white, three-story house with columns, I reckon it’s still there.”

             
Carrie’s eyes flew open before he finished speaking.  “It’s still here!” she cried.  “Please stop,” she commanded suddenly.  When Hobbs obliged, she sat and just stared at it.   The glow of the moon covered what were surely signs of neglect.  Her father had always demanded the outside of the house be kept in sparkling condition.  Three years of war had surely resulted in cracked and peeling paint, but in the mystical light of the moon, the house shimmered as if it wore a fresh coat of white.  Towering oak trees stood silent guard, their limbs tossed by the breeze, swirling shadows over the house. 

             
“It’s beautiful,” Carrie said softly, her eyes glimmering with tears of gladness.  She had not admitted, even to herself, how devastated she would have been if it had been burned or destroyed.  Her relief washed over her in great waves of happiness. 

             
“Sure is dark,” Hobbs observed. 

             
“Well, no one was expecting us,” Carrie laughed.  “I was hoping we wouldn’t wake them.”

             
“Where you plan on us staying tonight?”  Hobbs asked dubiously. 

             
“There is an apartment above the barn.  We can stay there tonight and let Sam and Opal know we’re here in the morning.”  She glanced at the dark windows staring down at her.  “If they’re still here.  It’s been six months since I was here last.  A lot could have happened.”

             
Suddenly she saw the front door crack open just a little, and a dark face peered out at them.  She opened her mouth to call out then hesitated.  What if Sam and Opal weren’t still here?  She had heard of plantation houses being taken over by runaway slaves.  With most of the white plantation owners gone from their homes, there was little to stop them from doing what they wanted.  She fought to control her pounding heart then frowned.  She hadn’t come this far to be afraid now.  “Hello,” she called softly. 

             
The door opened wider.  “Who be out there?” a gruff voice demanded.

             
Carrie grinned.  “Sam!  It’s you.  I was so afraid you wouldn’t still be here.” 

             
The door flew open all the way, and a stooped figure walked out onto the porch.  “That be you, Miss Carrie?”

             
“It’s me!”  Carrie swung down from the wagon and ran over to the wide steps leading up to the porch. 

             
“Why, I’ll be jiggered!”  Sam exclaimed.  “What in the world you be doing skulkin’ around at night, girl?”

             
Carrie turned back for a moment.  “Go ahead and bring our things in, Hobbs.  I don’t guess we’ll be sleeping in the barn.”  Then she raced up the stairs and gave the elderly black man a big hug.  “It’s so good to see you again!”

             
Sam chuckled and stepped back.  “You all right, girl?” he asked, his voice suddenly anxious. 

             
“I’m fine, Sam,” Carrie assured him.  “We heard there are a lot of Union cavalry hanging around out here, so we thought we’d have a better chance of making it here at night.”

             
Sam nodded and pulled her into the foyer.  “You be right about that, Miss Carrie.  So far they done left this place alone.  I guess we been real lucky.”

             
“Have they been here?”  Carrie asked as she looked around.  The huge chandelier gleamed softly in the lantern light.   The faint tick of the grandfather clock her father had shipped back from England filled the hallway.

             
“Yeah, they been here,” Sam admitted, trying to hold back a yawn.  “They done wanted me and Opal and the kids to go off with them.  Wanted to take us to one of them contraband camps.”  He shook his head.  “We wouldn’t go.”

             
“And the others?”

             
“We be the only ones left,” Sam said wryly.  “All the other ones took off ‘bout a month ago.  Them Yankee soldiers tole ‘em that if they took off it would make it easier for the North to win this war.  Said it would break their massers’ spirit and hurt the South.”  He paused.  “Most of the men went off to be soldiers and fight.  I reckon the women be over ‘round Hampton, but I don’t really be knowin’.”

             
“I pretty much expected it,” she replied.  “I hope they have good lives.”

             
“Oh, I reckon some of them will be back when this war be over,” Sam commented. 

             
“Be back?”  Carrie asked, startled.  “Why would they want to come back?”

             
“This war ain’t gonna last forever, Carrie girl.  When it ends, somebody gonna be working this land.  Don’t matter much if it be the North or the South runnin’ things.  They’s gonna need somebody to work it.   Them that left don’t want to be slaves, but that don’t mean they wouldn’t mind working for a fair wage.  This be home to some of them.  All they’s ever known.  Theys be back.”

             
Carrie listened quietly.  “I hope there is something for them to come back to,” was all she said. 

             
“I reckons time will tell,” Sam said calmly.  “And me?  I figures whoever ends up with this big place gonna need somebody to keep it going.  I reckons I don’t want to leave my home.”

             
“But you worked before the war to help slaves go free,” Carrie protested.  “Don’t you want to be free?”

             
Sam laughed.  “Your daddy may have some papers saying he owns me, but it ain’t affectin’ my life none, now does it?  I be livin’ my life just the way I wants to.  Right now.  I reckons I just waits and sees what happens when this war be over.”  He shook his head.  “I ain’t gettin’ any younger.  I done did my part in givin’ others a chance.  I figures I can live the way I wants now.”

             
Carrie gazed at the old man fondly.  The lantern he held in his hand illuminated his wrinkled, leathery face and kind eyes.  Silver hair gave him a distinguished air, and even though his shoulders were stooped, he held himself proudly.   “It’s good to see you again, Sam.”

             
“You too,” Sam said gruffly.  “Now, let’s get you and this fellow settled in.  Your room be waiting for you just like always.”

             
“Thank you.  How about putting Hobbs in the blue room?”

             
Sam turned around and looked at Hobbs closely for the first time.  “You done give up some of that leg fighting?”

             
Hobbs nodded casually.  “I’d have given up a lot more if it hadn’t been for Carrie.  She and one of those doctors saved it for me.”

             
Carrie was embarrassed by the admiration she heard in his voice.  She shrugged.  “It was nothing.”

             
Sam chuckled.  “You ain’t changed much, girl.  Still not wanting to take credit for all the thin’s you do.”

             
Carrie turned away.  “I’m glad we didn’t wake Opal and the kids.  I’ll look forward to seeing them in the morning.” 

             
“They sure nuff gonna be surprised,” Sam replied, his eyes twinkling.  “I’s keep them kids quiet so you can sleep in.”

             
“Don’t you do any such thing,” Carrie scolded.  “I didn’t come out here to sleep.  I can’t stay long.  I want to do as much as possible.”

             
Sam held the lantern higher and peered at her.  “Don’t look to me like you been sleeping much no matter where you are.”  His voice grew stern.  “If you wake up on your own, then so be it.  But them kids gonna be quiet as church mouses.  They ain’t gonna be the ones to add to them circles under your eyes.”

             
Carrie smiled and climbed the stairs, warmed by his concern, but still determined to get up early.  There was so much she wanted to do while she was here.  As she walked down the hall and held her lantern high, her eyes swept through the hall.  There were so many memories here.  So much of who she was had been crafted within these walls - and on the vastness of the plantation.  She shivered in anticipation then yawned, fatigue pressing down on her. 

             
Carrie turned the flame on the lantern higher as she entered her room.  Nothing had changed.  Her four poster canopy bed still occupied the place of honor, its exquisite rose bordered white coverlet glowing in the light.   She stared at it sadly.  The bed had been a gift from her father.  She swallowed her sudden longing for what had been and glided across the room to the large mirror.  Setting the lantern on her dresser, she stared deeply into the glass.   Knowing the mirror’s ultimate secret -  the opening it covered that led to tunnels under the plantation - did nothing to diminish the mystical allure it had held over her since childhood when she had spent hours gazing into it - and dreaming. 

             
The mirror called to her now.  Carrie sat down at her dressing table and pulled out the brush she kept there.  Slowly she unpinned her hair and watched it cascade over her shoulders.   As she ran the brush through it, she gazed into the mirror, imagining Robert just behind her and looking deeply into her eyes as he reached forward to caress her face.  Suddenly she groaned.  The ache of missing him was a physical pain.

             
Abruptly she stood and walked to the window.  Impulsively she threw it open and took in deep breaths of the cold, crisp air.    She wouldn’t be surprised if they had their first frost tonight.  She stood there, straining to bridge the ocean that separated her from the man she loved, until she was shivering.  She reached to pull the window shut then changed her mind.  The fresh air would do her good.  She gathered extra blankets from her wardrobe and piled them on the bed.  

             
She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

The sun was high in the sky when Carrie woke the next morning.  She yawned and stretched, feeling more rested than she had in months.  Cool air washed over her face, making her burrow deeper into the mound of covers.  She lay quietly, listening to the sound of birds and the wind whispering through the branches of her favorite oak sentinel stationed right outside her window.  She could already feel the magic of the plantation working its way into her heart. 

              She had forced herself to deal with Richmond’s crowded conditions, but her heart and mind yearned for open spaces.  She only felt like herself when she had room to move and think and be.  She couldn’t be home for long, but she would make the most of it.  She glanced around her room brought to life by the sun streaming in the window.  Suddenly she frowned and glanced at the clock.