Storm Clouds Rolling In (25 page)

Thomas smiled gently.
“How could I not know something was bothering my girl?

Carrie took a deep breath.
“Mr. Adams is hurting the slaves,” she said, her voice trembling slightly now that she was with her father.

Thomas leaned forward as his eyes narrowed.
“How do you know? What is happening?” he demanded in a sharp voice.

In a voice ripe with indignation, Carrie told of Sadie’s fever and her discovery of the gash on her foot.
Her father listened intently. Then she told of finding Adams as he was about to whip Moses.

“You saw him do it?”

“No. I stopped him.”

Thomas took a deep breath, his face becoming more grave.
“Maybe you should tell me the whole story.” Anger twisted his normally kind features as Carrie relived her experience. Concern darkened them as well. He sat for long moments after Carrie had finished speaking. When he spoke, it was slowly. “I’m not sure you should have involved yourself.”

Carrie’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Not get involved? You wanted me to do nothing while one of your slaves was beaten?” She couldn’t comprehend what she was hearing.

“Of course I am furious that Adams was going to abuse one of my people.
He has strict orders to never lay a hand on them. If they need discipline, he is to come to me. You can be sure I will deal with Adams before this day is over.” He paused. “But that is my job, Carrie. It is best to not interfere with a man when he is doing his job. It can undermine his authority.”

Carrie shook her head.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” she protested. “You’ve always told me this is
our
plantation. How could I stand by and watch one of our people be beaten? You wanted me to just ride away as if nothing was going on?”

“It’s not that simple, Carrie.”
Thomas looked at his daughter and sighed. “Adams is a good overseer. He has worked hard for me, but he has a hard streak in him. I don’t want to see that turned against you.”

“I’m not scared of that cowardly man
.” Carrie made no effort to hide her anger and disgust.

In spite of himself, Thomas smiled.
“Sometimes I don’t know where you got your spirit.”

“I got it from you
,” Carrie retorted. “You told me someday I would be responsible for Cromwell Plantation. You’ve always told me I could do whatever I had a mind to.”

“Where has this sudden desire to be a plantation mistress come from?”

Carrie shook her head impatiently. “That has nothing to do with it. I still have no desire to live my life like Mama, but neither can I stand by and watch one of our people be hurt.” Carrie had yet to stop and analyze all of her feelings. She just knew there was a passion rising in her heart that was growing stronger daily.

Thomas watched her carefully.
Finally he shook his head. “Carrie, I’m proud of you. I’m proud you had the courage to stop what you thought was wrong.”

“But…” Carrie prompted

“But, what?”

“I don’t know.
There just sounded like there was a but at the end of that.”

Thomas laughed.
“I’m used to verbal sparring with my beautiful daughter. I’m
not
so used to you catching me in my own game.” Then he sobered. “You need to be careful.”

“Careful?” Carrie echoed.

“Mr. Adams is a man who has had a great many blows to his pride. It has put a streak of meanness in him.”

“Then get rid of him
.”

“It’s not that simple.”
He struggled to explain as Carrie stared at him. “Our whole way of life is under attack from every direction. I’m afraid we may lose everything we’ve ever known. It’s hard to find good overseers, Carrie. I don’t know what I would do without him,” he admitted. “I’ll talk to him, though. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. If it does, just let me know.”

Carrie nodded as she tried to make sense of the conversation with her father.
She wasn’t afraid of Ike Adams. She would do whatever she had to, but she had enough sense to not say any of this to her father.

“I’m going to go see if your mother would like to take a walk.
Maybe we can catch up with our Mr. Jamison.” Thomas leaned over and gave his daughter a warm kiss on her cheek. “I’ll take care of it, Carrie,” he promised.

Carrie nodded half-heartedly as he moved off the porch
. She stared into the lengthening shadows with a heavy heart. She had never seen her father like this. The man she thought she knew would have congratulated her and ridden off to upbraid Adams for his behavior. Instead, he had as much as told her to stay out of it and had gone to take her mother for a walk. What was happening? She had sensed fear in his voice when he had talked about losing their way of life. Was it really that bad? Was her father really afraid their way of life was going to be destroyed? Daily, she had watched the tiny lines around his eyes increase. She hadn’t paid too much attention, but she would from now on. In the meantime, she had her own heart to figure out. She was changing, that much she knew. It bothered her that she couldn’t define the changing, or even be comfortable with it.

Jamison walked slowly through the beautiful grounds.
He wished he could enjoy the peace it afforded but his mind was too full. He was relieved at the ease with which he had gained access to Cromwell Plantation. Fellow conductors had told him the first assignment was always the hardest— and the scariest. He could only hope it got easier, but no matter. He would remain a conductor for the Underground Railroad. He had told Cromwell the truth. He was a Southerner through and through. He knew there were many Southerners who hated the idea of slavery. The gap between those who owned slaves and those who never would had broadened over the years. It was actually a tiny percent of landowners who could also afford slaves. The remaining Southerners had no particular reason to be loyal to the institution. Many of them provided way stations for escaping slaves on their way north. He would be counting on some of them for this assignment. If contact was made....

Jamison had received careful instruction from the Philadelphia Abolitionist Society, but hearing it and doing it were two different things.
He had traveled all the way here on the hope that a hastily transferred piece of paper had found its way into the proper hands. At best, his efforts were wasted and another attempt would be made at a later date. At worst, the paper would fall into the wrong hands and he could end up in prison. Attitudes in the South toward participants in the Underground Railroad had intensified bitterly over the last several years as more and more slaves made use of the system. Jamison shook his head. It would do no good to imagine what could happen.

One question remained foremost in his mind.
Would contact be made? He had no idea how it would happen. He had fabricated his need for a walk. At least it would give him time away from prying eyes. It might give someone a chance—

Just then a movement in the bushes caught his eye.
He glanced around quickly to assure himself he was alone. His position was invisible to the house, so he stopped and waited. It might just be an animal.

Rose stepped quietly from the bushes.
“Mr. Jamison?”

“Yes.”
He smiled in relief. “You’re the girl who helped serve dinner?”

Rose nodded.
“Mr. Jamison, I—”

“Jamison!
I say, Jamison, where are you?”

Jamison jumped and whirled around.
The shout was very close and he cursed under his breath. When would he find another opportunity? He groaned and turned back to the girl. She had disappeared.

Thomas smiled as he appeared from behind some bushes with Abigail.
Jamison inspected him closely and assured himself his host had not seen anything. “Cromwell. Mrs. Cromwell. How are you? ” He forced himself to breath normally. “You have a beautiful place here. You must be very proud of it.”

“Thank you.
I am. I’m sorry I had to neglect my duties as host for a time. I’m free now. Would you care to see the stables?”

“I would indeed,” Jamison replied.
He steeled himself not to peer into the trees as he walked by the place the girl had appeared. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he fell into place beside his host and hostess. He barely contained his smile as he felt the folded piece of paper that had not been there just minutes earlier.

“What you up to, girl?”
Sam’s voice was almost a growl as he stopped Rose on her way to the well.

“What do you mean, Sam?
I’m just going after water.” In all truth, Rose had no idea what he was talking about. She was too busy trying to hide the waves of disappointment and fear washing over her. Jamison had just driven off in his carriage. There had been no response to the letter she had slipped into his pocket last night. She had never known such fear as she felt last night when she held her breath and prayed the big oak she had chosen would hide her slender form. She had slumped down on the ground and sobbed silently when Jamison and the Cromwells disappeared down the road to the stables. She had been so close. And then to have her chance snatched away—it seemed too cruel. She had allowed hope to keep her going last night—hope there would be a response to her letter. That hope had been stolen from her with the departure of Jamison’s carriage. Now she had nothing left but fear—fear that it had all been a hoax, and fear that she had revealed her desire for freedom. She had heard the stories of what owners were doing to runaway slaves.

Sam was regarding her with open suspicion.
“You aiming to do somethin’ stupid, Rose?”

Rose looked at him in surprise.
“Sam! What in the world are you talking about?”

Sam just shook his head.
“I promised your daddy I would take care of you after Marse Cromwell sold him off.” Rose nodded impatiently. She had heard all of this plenty of times before. Sam peered at her closely as they walked behind the well wall. He looked around quickly and then shrugged his great shoulders. “You let me know if you’ll be needing any help.” Rose had no time to reply. Sam reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope, and slipped it into her hand. He turned and walked quickly back to the house.

Rose leaned against the well to steady her trembling legs.
She knew she shouldn’t read it now, that she should wait until she was safely in her room. She sank down on the ground behind the protective covering of the well, unfolded the sheet of paper, and rapidly read its contents.

She was smiling when she entered the big house.

THIRTEEN