Distant Dreams (25 page)

“The man who died in the train derailment?”

“Yes.” James didn’t bother to turn around. “He and I became acquainted. I didn’t know him long, but we had many of the same goals, the same dreams for our lives—and we both loved the railroad. Phineas was responsible for creating the new engines used by the B&O Railroad, and he had just offered me a job working with him when the accident took place.

“I had already accepted the position, and for a few moments life seemed so good. Then, in a literal wink of an eye, everything fell apart. The train derailed and Phineas was killed instantly.” He sighed and covered his face with his hands. “I can still see his face in death. The look of disbelief and confusion. I dream about it still.”

“I’m so sorry.” The words seemed inadequate. Carolina felt her youth and inexperience as never before.

“I never wanted to see another locomotive as long as I lived, and then I came here and you immediately began to besiege me about the railroad. . . .”

“You do believe that I am truly sorry about that?”

James turned to face her. “Yes . . . I know that.”

Still, he sounded so miserable, and Carolina felt an urge to mother him—she who was but a child herself.

“It’s not your fault, don’t you see?” he went on. “I’m trying to keep from having to deal with this, and you, in your way, have forced me to see it straightforward. It’s not just Phineas—although I will miss him. It’s much more.”

Carolina forgot the numbness in her feet and the bone-chilling wind. She forgot everything but the man standing before her. Only yesterday it seemed they were childhood adversaries. And literally yesterday they were adversaries in a different way. But suddenly this man emerged from that level to become a person of deep feeling.

Drawing a slow breath she spoke the words that had been on her heart all evening. “Perhaps in confronting it, Mr. Baldwin, you can finally be free of the pain.”

“Pain?”

“It’s plain to see. You didn’t need to speak; your eyes said it all.” She paused, wanting to make certain the words were just right. “I saw it in your expression tonight—the way it hurt you when we discussed the railroad.”

He nodded. “Yes . . . pain. Can you even imagine it, Carolina?”

“No, not really. But I want to, Mr. Baldwin. I want to understand.” She warmed at the intimate use of her first name.

“Why?”

“Isn’t that what friends do?”

“Friends?” He smiled. “I’d like that . . . so much more than whatever we’ve been since I came.” He paused, seeming to give careful consideration to his next words. “It’s just that I thought I knew what I wanted from life. The railroad had become everything to me. When I woke up in the morning I thought instantly of locomotive designs. And every time I heard the bell or whistle blast I thought of how I would one day be an important part of linking the country together. I truly loved it.”

“Then why abandon it?” she probed gently.

“I may not have known Phineas Davis as well as I would have liked, but he believed in me and wanted me to join him in working for the B&O.”

“That’s all very well and fine. Still, why turn your back on what you obviously love?”

James’ expression turned cold. “Phineas died at the hand of the very thing he loved. How can I possibly go back to the railroad and work with the engine designs he began, knowing all the while that the railroad cost him his life?”

The wind picked up, and again the low moaning sound echoed through the buildings and trees. Carolina shivered, but not from the cold. “Your friend died doing what he wanted to do. You said yourself, it was the thing he loved most. How can you hold it against him to have lived and died the way he chose?”

“But he didn’t choose to die out there in a train derailment,” James insisted.

“No one ever really chooses their way of dying, but they do choose how to live. Your friend had a dream and a desire to see that dream fulfilled. He put his life into it. Why not his death? Would he have put the railroad aside if he’d known it would kill him?”

James shook his head. “Probably not. Knowing Phineas it would just give him cause to burn the midnight oil a little longer.”

“I would be that way, too,” Carolina replied. “I seriously doubt Mr. Davis would have done things one bit different. My mother once told me I should never let fear keep me from living my life and seeking my dreams. It’s my desire to have an education. And with that education I’d like to know more about the railroad and how locomotives work. But I don’t want to be responsible for causing you, or anyone else, pain. If I have to wait until I’m grown and capable of living on my own, I’ll get that education.” She swallowed hard, uncertain she could continue with what she had to say. “So, if you want to end this position as my tutor, I will understand. I’ll even be the one to address the matter with Father.” The very thought of him quitting caused Carolina’s eyes to fill with tears. She prayed he wouldn’t go, yet she felt so filled with remorse for her actions of the past weeks. “I won’t be responsible for grieving you further,” she added in a wavering voice.

James reached out and touched her hand. Carolina hadn’t realized how cold she was until his warm fingers folded around hers. “Please don’t feel badly about what happened. You had no idea how I felt.”

“Yes, but I didn’t have to pester you every day since your arrival, and . . .” She paused, wondering if she could think clearly with his thumb gently rubbing across the top of her hand. “I . . . uh . . . I haven’t been very nice to you. I’ve been argumentative and I’m sorry.” She struggled to keep her emotions in check.

James looked at her sternly for a moment. “I think maybe it’s been that very nature that has kept me from feeling too sorry for myself.” He paused and offered her a smile. “I’ve had to keep on my toes in order to deal with your attacks. Maybe God knew if I sat at home in Washington, I’d only grow more withdrawn and distant.”

Carolina felt a surge of hope. Perhaps he would stay and continue the lessons. She had to prove her sincerity. “So shall we call a truce, Mr. Baldwin?” Her cloak hood fell back and the wind toyed with her curls.

“I’d like that, and I’d like it even more if you would call me James . . . that is, if we are truly to be friends.”

She gently disengaged her hand. Her mind was a mass of confusing thoughts. “Very well, James.” She went to the door and, with a hand on the brass handle, turned to add, “I promise not to bring up the subject of the railroad again.”

26

A New Subject

The following morning Carolina had no sooner seated herself at the table when Virginia entered the room on the arm of James. Grimacing to herself, Carolina listened to Virginia’s sickeningly sweet praise for James’ healing progress. Does she never tire of such blithering? Carolina wondered.

“Christmas at Oakbridge is positively wonderful,” Virginia said in a voice dripping honey. “You’ll absolutely love it.”

“Yes,” Carolina said, pushing back her book and turning to frown at her sister. “Virginia puts on quite a display. Well, maybe I should say”—Carolina tapped the book as if trying to think of the right words—“Oakbridge puts on quite a display, and Virginia is merely a part of it.”

While James closed the door, Virginia whirled around to stick out her tongue at Carolina. Carolina only smiled and noted that James was trying hard not to do the same.

“Well, if you’re ready to begin our studies, Carolina,” James said in an authoritative air, “I’ve a new subject to add to our schedule.” Virginia, realizing she’d been dismissed, quietly took a seat by the window and drew out the doily she’d been crocheting.

James went to the secretary and brought back a two-foot-long scroll of papers, which he immediately began to unroll on the tabletop. Carolina’s eyes widened at the sight of the locomotive schematics laid out before her. She looked up at James, questioning with her eyes the object at her fingertips.

“You wanted to know about such things,” he offered by way of explanation. “I thought perhaps this would be a good way to start.”

“But I thought . . . I mean I told you I . . .”

“I remember what you said,” James replied, taking a seat beside his pupil. He lowered his voice and added, “I did a great deal of thinking after our talk last night, and I’ve decided you were right.”

Carolina wondered only momentarily if Virginia found this conversation strange. Gingerly she reached out and touched the paper. “Are these your designs?”

James smiled. “Yes. They’re the same ones I showed to Phineas Davis. He, of course, had his own designs, and shortly after his death a prototype was built using a horizontal boiler. My designs aren’t intended to actually be put to use—they were mainly a training exercise for me. However, I’ve tried to include some of my own ideas, such as a shorter boiler to accommodate the crooked track. Would you like to know more about them?”

“Oh yes. Please!”

“See here?” His long slender fingers traced the edges of inked perimeters. “The largest component of the engine is the boiler. The earliest known steam engine was created by the Egyptians about 100 b.c. They noted that if water was boiled over a wood fire, steam could be directed through pipes into a hollow ball pierced with a couple of bent tubes. When the steam reached the ball it would hiss out through the tubes and make the ball spin. They had no idea what to do with the new creation, but no doubt they realized even then that it was something of value.”

“But when did they start using railroads?” Carolina interrupted excitedly.

James smiled indulgently. “Actually the railroad has a much earlier origin than you might think. Eighteen hundred years ago the Greeks made wood rails on which to move heavy wagons by oxen and horses. This made it easier for the animals, and sometimes humans, to pull the loads because the rail made it smoother. Centuries later, it was realized that iron would last longer and be smoother yet, and the modern rail was born.”

Carolina turned her attention back to the engine design. “So they took the Egyptians’ idea and made a bigger boiling pot, and the hissing ball became cylinders that pressed the pistons and moved the drive wheels?”

James laughed. “It seems you know a great deal more than I had realized.”

“Father told me about the transference of steam from the boiler to the drivers. I asked him about it after we saw the engine in Washington.”

“This design differs from the engine you saw.”

“Yes, I see that. The boiler is horizontal instead of vertical,” Carolina said, rather proud of herself for recognizing the difference.

“That’s right. Phineas designed vertical boilers for the B&O because the rail line is very curved with many twists and tight turns. A horizontal boiler would jump the tracks constantly because the length would never be able to keep up with the turns. Vertical boilers allow for the entire engine to be little more than fifteen feet long, whereas most of the horizontal boilers being designed are at least half that again.”

“So why not keep with the vertical boilers?” Carolina was totally taken in by the drawings.

“You can’t increase the boiler size on a vertical boiler. If you make them taller, most won’t fit through the tunnels or pass under the existing bridges. Without increasing the size, you can’t increase the power. Also small boilers keep the overall weight of the engine down.”

“Why is that important?” Carolina eagerly turned to meet James’ eyes. His face was only inches from hers, and it instantly made her nervous. Quickly lowering her face to the schematics, she asked again in a shaken voice, “Why . . . is that important?”

James seemed unaffected by the encounter. “The tracks on the B&O are weak. Most American track leaves a great deal to be desired. They’ve used strap rail on most of the B&O. This is thin strips of iron laid on top of wooden stringers. These stringers are fastened to wooden ties to hold it in place. The newest method of laying track is to use a T-rail.”

“I’ve heard Father discuss it,” Carolina stated, recalling to mind the time she’d eavesdropped.

“Well, one of its many advantages is that it’s a lot stronger and can bear up under the heavier weight of the horizontal boilers. The Washington Branch of the B&O uses T-rail.”

“So if the rails are being adjusted to take on greater weight, why not straighten out the curves while you’re at it?”

“Exactly,” James replied. “And so they are. Even now there are small portions of the B&O rail between Baltimore and Harper’s Ferry that crews are working to remake. But because of cost, they are mostly just straightening the line a bit and reusing the strap.”

“So eventually, when the money is available, they will rebuild the line?”

“That is the plan. Mr. Thomas would like to see the entire line west to the Ohio redone in T-rail. It will make it safer and more sturdy and better able to handle the larger engines.”

“Then your ideas for a horizontal design shouldn’t be rejected.” Carolina’s matter-of-fact tone was intended to encourage James. She wanted to keep him in whatever positive frame of mind would allow for his continued good nature toward this subject.

“James is giving up that nonsense with the railroad,” Virginia announced from where she sat. “He told me so not two days ago. Isn’t that so, James?”

James rolled the papers up and shrugged. “I might have been a bit hasty in my decision.”

“I hardly think so,” Virginia replied coolly. She eyed Carolina with calm disdain, as though knowing already that her sister had something to do with this change of heart. “Your father is offering you a stable job in banking. It isn’t everyone who can simply waltz into a position of such social importance.”

“Money isn’t everything,” Carolina interjected strongly. “If a man has to be about something, why not let it be something he enjoys?”

“Such childish notions,” Virginia said with a stilted laugh. “I would expect that view from someone of your immature age, sister dear.”

James interrupted the conversation here. “Ladies, I’ve been hired to tutor, not to argue. Let us return to our studies. I have yet another design to show you.”

Virginia sullenly resumed her crocheting, but not before Carolina offered her a triumphant little smile. It was then and there that Carolina decided if she had anything to say about it, James would return to his dream of the railroad.