by Judith Pella
JUDITH PELLA
TRACIE PETERSON
Distant Dreams
Copyright ©1997
Judith Pella and Tracie Peterson
Cover by John Hamilton Design
The song opening Part One is anonymous and was taken from Long Steel Rail: The Railroad in American Folksong by Norm Cohen, University of Illinois Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
Printed in the United States of America
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Pella, Judith.
Distant dreams / Judith Pella and Tracie Peterson.
p. cm.—(Ribbons of steel ; no. 1)
ISBN 978-0-7642-0691-7 (pbk.)
I. Peterson, Tracie. II. Title.
PS3566.E415D57 2009
813'.54—dc22 2009007639
* * *
And the Iron Horse, the earth-shaker;
the fire-breather . . . shall build an empire
and an epic.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON
JUDITH PELLA has been writing for the inspirational market for more than twenty years and is the author of more than thirty novels, most in the historical fiction genre. Her recent novel Mark of the Cross and her extraordinary four-book Daughters of Fortune series showcase her skills as a historian as well as a storyteller. Her degrees in teaching and nursing lend depth to her tales, which spin a variety of settings. Pella and her husband make their home in Oregon.
Visit Judith’s Web site: www.judithpella.com
TRACIE PETERSON is the author of over seventy novels, both historical and contemporary. Her avid research resonates in her stories, as seen in her bestselling Heirs of Montana and Alaskan Quest series. Tracie and her family make their home in Montana.
Visit Tracie’s Web site at www.traciepeterson.com
Contents
PART ONE Summer 1835
1 / Enter the Beast
2 / Repercussions
3 / Kindred Spirits
4 / At the White House
5 / Granny
6 / The Banker and His Son
7 / Railroad Man
8 / Lace and Locomotives
9 / Reaching an Understanding
10 / Evening at the Baldwins’
11 / Two Sisters
12 / York Adams
13 / Business Proposition
PART TWO Fall 1835
14 / The Hour of Reckoning
15 / York’s Return
16 / Shattered Dream
17 / The Cost of Fear
18 / Joseph and Margaret
19 / Oakbridge Tutor
20 / York’s Good Fortune
21 / Touching a Dream
22 / The Houseguest
23 / Shaky Beginnings
24 / Misunderstood
25 / Truce Between Friends
26 / A New Subject
27 / Something to Think About
28 / A New Venture
PART THREESpring 1836
29 / Elections and Revolutions
30 / Tea and Confusion
31 / Nighttime Dispute
32 / Indecision
33 / Coming of Age
34 / No Longer a Child
35 / Discord
36 / The Proposal
37 / The Morning After
38 / The Ship
PART FOURLate Spring 1836
39 / A Waking Dream
40 / Along the Way
41 / Philip Thomas
42 / Unexpected Companion
43 / Change in Plans
44 / Uncomfortable Questions
PART FIVESummer-Fall 1836
45 / Hampton Cabot
46 / Advances
47 / Talk With a Friend
48 / Conversation on the Porch
49 / Leland’s Schemes
50 / Wedding Plans
51 / Fever Strikes
52 / Loss
53 / Broken Hearts
54 / The Letter
55 / Carolina’s Hope
Part I
Summer 1835
Away, away, o’er valley plain
I sweep you with a voice of wrath;
In a fleecy cloud I wrap my train,
As I tread my iron path.
My bowels are fire and my arm is steel,
My breath is a rolling cloud:
And my voice peels out as I onward wheel,
Like the thunder rolling loud.
1
Enter the Beast
The whistle blast, shrill and frightening, broke through the festive atmosphere of the crowd. Heads turned and a momentary hush fell over the noisy throng as the black monster lumbered down the iron ribbon, hissing and panting like some ancient mythological creature.
Every man, woman, and child watched in awe, held captive by the fearsome mechanical cyclops. Then murmurs of fascination began to rise from the onlookers, some pointing, some daring to press closer to the strange beast. But others shied away, horrified at the hideous creation that man had wrought.
“What an awful smell!” declared a young woman in disgust, quickly lifting a scented handkerchief to her nose. She appeared as if she might faint.
Many in the crowd agreed with the woman, especially when the iron beast began to belch great plumes of black smoke that rose and tainted the fine blue sky. A man led his wife away, fearful that her delicacy might be compromised by the strain of such a sight. Children, who only moments before had danced in circles begging to be allowed to see the beast’s arrival, now sought the protective arms of their mothers.
“Have ya ever seen the likes!” murmured a man in a coarse woolen jacket and worn cap. “Why it’s a-sparkin’ the ground afire.”
“Don’t get too close!” a young mother warned her child.
The giant colossus inched closer while workmen waiting alongside cleared back the undaunted curious ones and put out the patchy fires. Then, with a final groan, the mighty contraption rolled to a stop, steam pouring out from spigots on its sides. Now even the bravest folk jumped back several paces.
One wide-eyed girl, however, did not move. Mesmerized by what she saw, Carolina Adams did not retreat but rather pressed forward. Her brown eyes never leaving the machine, her petite form straining on tiptoe to see through the crowd, Carolina was drawn closer. Caught in the spell of wheels and gears and sounds and smells, she hardly felt the gloved hand on her arm, restraining her curiosity.
“Carolina! You are a proper young lady and such a ghastly exhibition is quite beneath you. Besides,” Margaret Adams said with a glance around the crowd, “there are many fine young gentlemen here today. If you are to secure a good marriage, you should at least pretend to be refined.”
Carolina looked up at her mother with a frown. She had no desire to secure a good marriage, at least not yet. But despite her feelings, Carolina held her tongue, knowing Margaret Adams, the epitome of genteel womanhood, would brook no disobedience from her children—especially not in public.
“That pout is most unbecoming,” said Margaret, “and tells me your heart is not in obedience.” Her narrow gray eyes made it clear the matter was not open to discussion.
“She’s just a child, Mrs. Adams.” Joseph Adams, Carolina’s father, was the
only one who dared debate the woman. “And this is a celebration.”
Margaret turned a frosty glare on her husband. “She is fifteen years old, Mr. Adams. She is hardly a child.”
“I simply meant . . .”
The conversation between Joseph and Margaret competed with the rising din of the crowd, and Carolina found it impossible to concentrate on what was being said. Besides, in spite of the fact that the discussion was on her behalf, she was far more interested in the activity around the machine. Trusting that her parents were preoccupied for the time being, she attempted to get closer to the track. With little thought to appearance, she elbowed her way through the crowd. Her heart was pounding. Through her mind raced a million thoughts and questions about the strange machine. Even her mother’s certain reprimand couldn’t dissuade her from drawing as near it as possible.
I must get a better look, she thought, forcing her small frame through the sea of bodies.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” A man dressed in a natty tweed suit and bowler hat had hopped up on a wooden crate. He lifted his hand with an exaggerated flourish. “I give you the future of transportation! Nay, the very future of America! The Locomotive!”
The crowd cheered.
“We are here this twenty-eighth day of August, in the year of Our Lord 1835, to celebrate the grand opening of the Washington Branch of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad!”
Carolina felt her heart beat faster. The machine was nearly close enough to reach out and touch. What must it be like to ride on such a contraption? Were the railed tracks smooth or bumpy? Did the world just whip by you as you rode along, or did it seem to stand still in awe of man’s newest invention?
“Here at the foot of Capitol Hill, under the watchful eyes of thousands, we are honored to have Philip E. Thomas, President of the B&O Railroad, with us today.”
Just then one of the two train-bound bands struck up a chorus of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” to which a hardy cheer followed.
Philip Thomas, gray-haired but lively, took his place beside the man. “I am pleased to announce the trip from Baltimore to this, our nation’s capital, was accomplished without incident, and, furthermore, we covered the distance of thirty-some miles in less than two hours and ten minutes.”
The crowd responded with oohs and aahs. Several men began to inspect the wheel mechanisms while Thomas continued. “I am pleased also to announce that this is but the first of many roundtrips to come between our fair cities. A regular schedule of two trips per day is planned, and should this prove inadequate, we are prepared to add additional trips to accommodate those who wish to ride.”
He spoke next of the future of the B&O Railroad, but Carolina heard little of what he said. Forgetting her mother’s warning, she ventured ever closer to the locomotive. It still hissed, with billowing puffs of steam erupting from safety valves on the side. Two men peered down from the engine’s standing platform, thoroughly enjoying the crowd’s reaction. However, for the ceremony they had been required to wear their best black frock suits, and they looked most uncomfortable. The younger of the two tugged at his starched white collar, while the older man mopped sweat from his brow.
Carolina smiled up at them sheepishly, knowing she was being quite brazen in her approach. The men could hardly fail to notice the pretty girl in her fashionable afternoon dress of powder blue linen, trimmed in navy, with a matching bonnet tied smartly at her chin. The men gave her friendly grins.
Mother will skin me alive, Carolina thought, brown curls bobbing as she cast a quick glance over her shoulder.
But she couldn’t stop herself. The black giant enticed her forward. What was it that drew her? The other women in the crowd were not so fascinated; in fact, many were absolutely terrified. Carolina was a bit scared herself, but more so at her own inexplicable reaction. But she’d always had a curious nature.
“Too curious for your own good,” her mother would often say.
Something inside her wanted to know the how and why about everything. She was constantly plying her father with questions. Poor, dear Papa! But he always answered patiently, even if her questions were sometimes not appropriate from the lips of a young lady.
Thomas’s words momentarily intruded into Carolina’s thoughts: “The development of our great nation will depend upon machines such as these. Today, we celebrate the innovation of man’s mind, but tomorrow we seek the dream of our future. And this, ladies and gentlemen, will be the key to all our dreams.”
It was as if the man were speaking directly to Carolina. How many times had her mother scolded her for her frequent daydreams? But she couldn’t help it. She knew she had too many lofty notions. She dreamed of far more than a proper young lady should. Of things fit only for a man. Or were they?
Was this train, then, the key only to male dreams? Or would it somehow involve her? Could it? In her mind it seemed as if its powerful bulk could do anything, even satisfy the nameless longing that had always haunted Carolina.
Suddenly Carolina reached out her hand toward the smooth black iron of the engine, but just as quickly, she pulled her hand back. Glancing warily around, she wondered if anyone had noticed what she had been about to do. Completely wedged in by the crowd, her parents were still talking, apparently unaware of her absence. The rest of the crowd was riveted either to the man on the platform or the commotion behind the tender where several workmen were busy detaching the other three engines and their accompanying passenger cars.
Thomas had finished his speech and the announcer was once again at the podium. “Who from our fair city will take the first ride?” asked the man. Then he looked directly at Carolina and shouted, “You, young woman! You may have the first ride!”
Carolina gasped. Was he actually speaking to her? Realizing she was suddenly the center of attention, her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in horror. If her mother had previously been ignorant of her actions, she would definitely know now. But before Carolina could protest—not that she wanted to—she was being handed up to a small platform attached behind the engine. The back of the platform held a tenderbox of coal, but space had been cleared in order to allow several people at a time to enjoy a standing ride.
“This is usually filled full,” said the engineer. He was the older of the two men who had noticed her before. “But I reckon your company is better than coal any day!” He winked at her from behind a dimpled smile.
“ ’Fraid we wouldn’t get very far without fuel,” said the younger man over his shoulder. As the locomotive’s fireman, he was already adding a heaping shovelful of coal to the firebox.
“But why am I up here and not in one of the covered cars?” she asked hesitantly.
“Mr. Thomas thought this to be a bit more exciting,” the older man told her. “You get a real feel for the machine this way.”
“It’s more dangerous,” the fireman told her with a jaunty grin, “but more fun, too.”
Carolina nodded with rapt attention. She wished they’d tell her more, but both men had seemingly forgotten her as they went about their tasks. Her heart pounded so hard that Carolina feared she actually might swoon. This is dangerous, she told herself, but her mind refused to equate the relevance of such a thought.
If Carolina had previously known excitement, then this was pure bliss. She stared past the engineer in his frock coat to the wide mouth of the firebox. The younger man was tossing in coal, almost as if he were feeding a ravenous animal.
Four more people were selected from the clamoring crowd to accompany Carolina before the engineer gave the signal and the track was cleared to allow the locomotive to move forward. Carolina looked down upon the crowd, feeling lucky indeed that she was one of the fortunate ones. Her mother would never understand, and Carolina made a pointed effort to avoid those eyes she knew would be filled with disapproval.
With a lurch and a scraping of metal against metal, the machine strained to move. Bit by bit it inched its way forward. Carolina held her breath and gripped the platfor
m railing. Her pulse raced. A young boy at her side puckered his face and looked as if he might cry, but the man beside him lifted him up and hushed his fears. The other two passengers were white-faced and spellbound while the train groaned forward another twenty feet, then stopped once again.
“Well, what did you think, young lady?” the announcer asked Carolina as he helped her down from the engine.
Carolina’s only response was a speechless stare. Then someone else shouted from the crowd, “What was it like?”
This broke her spell. “It was wondrous!” Carolina declared. Even her mother’s inevitable ire couldn’t spoil the moment. “Absolutely wondrous!”
Carolina watched as if in a daze as new passengers were loaded aboard and the train moved again. Swallowed up in the sea of moving people, Carolina felt the impact of the moment. She had actually ridden the beast with its churning, hissing, groaning voice. She had touched the future. Her future?
Looking down at her hands, she noticed for the first time black smudges on the white kid gloves from where she’d held on to the rail. In complete amazement she traced the outline of the stains, then smiled as if discovering a wonderful secret.
2
Repercussions
“Carolina!”
The harsh voice of Margaret Adams instantly jarred Carolina from her awed musings. She glanced up to see her family approach.
“How could you?” Margaret was pale in spite of the strength of her voice and appeared almost as if she might well faint. “Putting yourself on display for all the capital to see. When I think of what Washington society will say about my daughter in their homes tonight . . .” She ended with a shudder. Then, reaching out to take her daughter in hand, she noticed the soiled gloves. “They are ruined, of course.” With an indignant huff she dropped Carolina’s hand and continued. “Well, we’ve no choice now but to return to the hotel so that you can repair the damage to your appearance. I hope you realize just how you have disgraced our family today.”
“Nonsense, Mrs. Adams,” said Joseph. “Be reasonable. The child merely rode the locomotive. It isn’t like she robbed a bank.” Muttonchop whiskers and bushy dark eyebrows made his face seem stern and unyielding, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, and the corners of his lips twitched as though he might break into a smile any moment.
