Spring Will Come

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Spring Will Come Page 15

by Ginny Dye


  “Good!” Dr. Wild exclaimed. “By the way, how long has it been since you’ve taken a complete day off?”

  Carrie shrugged. “A few weeks I guess. I haven’t really considered a day off important when so many are suffering.”

  “Nonsense! You can’t give your best when you’re completely drained. I learned that a long time ago. I don’t want to see you back here until day after tomorrow. Now go home and get some rest. You must be exhausted.”

  Carrie knew just exactly how exhausted she was. Every part of her body ached. Yet none of it mattered now. She was taking a giant step in pursuing her dream. She had gambled and won - won something she had not even imagined.

  Carrie had not seen her father for two days when he burst through the door, excitement exploding on his face. She had been asleep when he had come in for a few hours of sleep the night before.

  “It’s over!” he exclaimed. “McClellan has been beaten back. His whole army is in full retreat now. Richmond is safe.”

  “What grand news!” Carrie exclaimed.

  “How far are they from the city?” Janie asked from where she was lounging in a chair directly across from Carrie.

  Thomas frowned at that question. “McClellan has set up a base at Harrison Landing.”

  “Harrison Landing?” Carrie asked. She thought for a moment. “That’s at Berkeley Plantation isn’t it?” Her heart sank at the thought of what destruction over a hundred thousand men could wreak on the lovely plantation situated high on a hill overlooking the James River.

  “I’m afraid so, Carrie.”

  There was something in his voice that caused Carrie to look at him closely. “Are you worried about home?”

  “I would be foolish not to realize Cromwell Plantation may be harmed by the Federals. They don’t seem to have much regard for property belonging to men in Confederate leadership.” He paused, his voice bitter before he continued. “Edmund Ruffin and I have not seen eye to eye for a while, but I would never wish on someone what has happened to his beloved plantation.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carrie asked, remembering the secession rantings of their neighbor during the years leading up to the war. He and her father had butted heads many times. Yet Ruffin had also been responsible for saving most tobacco crops in the area when he discovered the secret of the fertilizer marl. She knew her father respected him.

  “The Yankees have destroyed it,” Thomas replied grimly. “His home has been burned, his trees cut - even his fences have been pulled up and burned. But it’s what they have done to his fields that has hurt him the most. The very fields he conducted agricultural experiments in that have benefitted countless farmers have been salted.”

  “Salted?” Janie gasped. “Why, it will be years before they will be suitable for use again! Are they doing that everywhere?”

  “Thankfully, no,” Thomas replied grimly. “At least not yet. I’m sure the Yankees were well aware who that plantation belonged to. I imagine it was their way of evening the score.”

  “But why this Ruffin man?” Janie asked.

  “He was a very outspoken secessionist,” Carrie replied. “He also claims to have fired the first shot of the war. Even at age seventy-eight, he is still eager to join the battle.” She turned back to her father. “Surely they won’t do the same thing to Cromwell. You have no such notoriety.”

  “I have long ago given up trying to guess what the Federals will do and what they won’t do. I never thought they would actually invade our country to try to rob us of the freedom that is rightly ours.”

  Carrie gazed at her father and was saddened at the bitterness radiating from his voice and eyes. Now was not the time to remind him the South had been robbing millions of slaves of the freedom rightfully theirs, for years. She was learning that people found it very easy to only be concerned with the part of the picture they were intimately involved in. The rest of the picture didn’t matter so much if it didn’t affect them directly. “Our home is many miles from Berkeley. The Union army has already stripped it of food. Maybe they won’t even go near it.” She paused, searching for a way to take her father’s mind off his home. “What happened in the battle today?” She immediately regretted the question when she saw his face darken.

  “They fought at Malvern Hill today. McClellan is indeed in full retreat, but I’m afraid the cost of victory has been incredibly high today.”

  Carrie felt the familiar sickness tighten her stomach.

  “How many?” Janie asked quietly, her voice reflecting the agony Carrie was feeling.

  “The Federals were firmly entrenched on Malvern Hill and fought hard to give the rest of the army time to retreat. Our artillery was simply no match for theirs.”

  “We heard the guns,” Carrie said. “They seemed much louder today, yet I know the battle was not any closer.”

  Thomas shook his head. “You heard the Union gunboats joining in the fight. Their immense guns make field artillery seem like nothing. I heard men saying they were so loud they literally shook the water.”

  “So how many?” Janie repeated quietly.

  “They were too entrenched,” Thomas said again, the pain evident in his voice. “Lee’s attacks were cut down time and time again.” He paused a long moment. “There were over five thousand casualties.”

  Carrie groaned and covered her face with her hands. Five thousand men - dead, wounded, or missing. The horror of it washed over her in waves. Once again stark fear for Robert raised its head and mocked her earlier confidence. She struggled to control the nausea clutching her throat. Would this tug-of-war never end?

  “And you call that a victory?” Janie asked in a strained voice.

  Thomas shook his head again wearily. “It can be counted as nothing but a defeat, but McClellan is still in full retreat. I believe the danger is over.”

  “Why is McClellan retreating if he won the battle?”

  “I have no idea, Janie. I can only theorize based on what I have heard. McClellan never expected Lee to go on the defensive. I believe Lee’s actions completely demoralized him. He could no longer have the glorious victory he had envisioned for so long, so he decided to just give the whole thing up.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?” Carrie managed to ask.

  “I don’t think the Union will give up its goal of taking Richmond, but I don’t believe it will be McClellan leading the army. I have gotten my hands on enough Northern newspapers to realize President Lincoln, along with much of the North, is fed up with their general. No, I think Richmond is safe for a time.”

  Carrie stared out the window for a long minute. “Do you realize the last seven days have cost the South almost twenty thousand men?” she asked quietly. “Why, from what you have told me that is more than twenty percent of Lee’s entire army.”

  Fatigue washed over Thomas’ face. “The cost has been horrible,” he agreed. “But for now, the city is safe,” he repeated.

  Carrie suddenly realized her father was hanging on for dear life to the one reality that gave him hope. No matter what the cost, Richmond had been saved. The dead would be buried, the wounded treated - and the South would fight on. In order to continue the war, it was necessary to see the casualties as numbers - not as young men who would never return home to be fathers, husbands, and sons. “I need some fresh air,” she said abruptly.

  Rising from her chair, she hurried outside. She could understand what her father was feeling, but it would never do anything more than sicken her. She wished he would come spend a few days in the hospital. Maybe then he would feel differently, yet somehow she doubted it. It was impossible to live in Richmond and not be aware of the suffering. The streets were crowded with the wounded, and stacks of dead soldiers lined the train platforms. You had to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to see the cost of the war.

  Carrie stared out into the darkness. How did people become so immune to suffering? How could any cause be worth what was being seen every day? Slowly, an understanding crept into her hea
rt. The time for a quick ending to the war had long passed. The same passions that had fueled the initial explosion might be waning, but the fire was pushing on, fed by the growing hatred and bitterness of a war that was not fitting anyone’s mold. The war had taken on a life of its own - the people were simply being pulled along in its trail of fire - trying to survive in the charred remnants of its path.

  Her father was simply doing what everyone else was doing - struggling to survive. Carrie’s heart tightened at the agony her father must be feeling at the possibility of losing everything he had worked all his life to build. His pain from her mother’s death might have kept him away from Cromwell Plantation for the last year and a half, but his heart was still firmly entrenched there. The plantation was his home, his life. Gradually, as fog retreats before the rising sun, her anger at her father dissipated as compassion took its place. They didn’t have to agree with each other, but love demanded she at least try to understand him. Suddenly she was eager to be back inside. She hadn’t even told him about her encounter with Dr. Wild. Smiling, she turned toward the door but stopped for a moment to study his anxious face as he sat talking quietly with Janie.

  “Carrie!”

  A sudden shout from down the road arrested her in her tracks. She turned slowly, then burst into laughter, and flew from the porch, her blue dress flying behind her. “Robert!”

  Robert pushed Granite into a fast gallop, vaulting off as soon as he reached the gate leading into the yard. In an instant Carrie was in his arms, laughing and crying all at the same time. Just to feel him, just to know he was alive, was enough. There was no need for words.

  “Robert. You’re home safe!” Thomas’ voice boomed out into the night.

  Carrie pulled away, stared up into Robert’s face, and then pulled him toward the house. “Come inside. You must be exhausted.” Robert obeyed with no comment. Not until Carrie reached the light of the house was she able to see him clearly. The same haunted, pain-stricken look she had seen before was once more in his eyes. Her heart constricted as she gently led him to the couch and sat down next to him. He looked tired - and older than when she had seen him last. Carrie knew she had no way to fully understand what he had endured the last week. She’d heard ghastly stories from the soldiers she cared for, but hearing a story and being there, were two very different things.

  Thomas stared at him for a long minute. “I was going to ask you questions. They’ll keep.”

  “I’m very glad you’re home, Robert,” Janie said softly. “I’m going up to bed now.”

  Carrie turned to Robert as Thomas nodded and followed Janie up the stairs. His hands trembled slightly as she gathered them close in hers and gazed into his eyes. Tortured dark eyes returned her look until with a moan Robert laid his head on her shoulder. Quickly, Carrie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close. She had no idea how long they sat there before a low rumble of thunder and a brisk wind blowing through the open windows caused him to draw back. Still he did not speak. Instead, he cradled Carrie’s head between his hands, devouring her with his eyes.

  Carrie wanted to cry at the anguish she saw stamped on every feature. Instead, she poured all the love she could into her eyes. Slowly, she saw some of the pain begin to diminish. Only then did she speak. “I love you, Lieutenant Robert Borden.”

  “And I love you, Carrie Cromwell,” Robert said huskily, tears causing his eyes to shine. “Knowing I have you is all that keeps me going sometimes,” he said softly. The shadows in his eyes deepened.

  Carrie understood. He was afraid she was going to ask him questions and he wasn’t ready to talk. “Your friend, Cabby, is doing well.”

  Robert stared at her. “Cabby? Cabby Marsh? You’ve seen him?”

  “Seen him? Why, he’s one of my favorite patients,” Carrie said cheerfully.

  “Did he... I mean, does he…?”

  “Still have his leg? You bet he does!” Carrie smiled at the look of relief on Robert’s face. He needed some good news. “His knee will never be the same, but the doctors managed to save his leg. He’s already moving around on crutches. At least he was when I last saw him two days ago.”

  “You mean he was up the same day they brought him in?” Robert asked in amazement.

  “Your friend Cabby is a remarkable man. He said he wasn’t going to give the Yankees the satisfaction of keeping him down.”

  Robert smiled at that. “Sounds like Cabby all right.” Then his eyes darkened again. “It was terrible...” he said slowly. “Every day when the fighting was over, every battlefield turned into a scene straight from the pits. Bodies were writhing and convulsing as far as the eye could see. Screams and cries could be heard all through the night...”

  Carrie held his hands tightly and let him talk.

  “I don’t know why I’m still alive. So many friends died... I watched them die,” he muttered thickly.

  Carrie squeezed his hands even more tightly. Robert looked up at her, but his eyes weren’t seeing her; they were seeing memories too awful for words. “No more,” she said softly. “You’re here with me now.”

  Robert started slightly then his eyes seemed to focus on her again. His breathing slowed, and his face regained some of its color. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You’ll carry those memories all your life. But when they reach up to grab you, you have to remember where you are. Pain can pull you down so far that it will destroy your hope and your reason to live.”

  Robert pulled back. “And just where did you get such wisdom?” he demanded in a genuinely surprised voice.

  “From Aunt Sarah,” Carrie said. “That lady carried more pain than most people.”

  “One of your slaves?”

  Carrie nodded, relieved to hear Robert’s tone of voice. There was no anger; it was more a curious statement of fact. She had determined to let God work on Robert’s heart when it came to the divisive issue of slavery. She wouldn’t ask questions. She decided to change the subject. “I have wonderful news.”

  “I could use some good news about now,” Robert said, smiling.

  Carrie was thankful for his smile. Trying not to leave out any details, she told him everything that had happened at the hospital the day before. “I’m going to be working with Dr. Wild when I return tomorrow,” she finished.

  Robert stared at her with amazement and then shook his head. “I knew you would make it as a doctor,” he said admiringly.

  “Well, I’m hardly a doctor yet!” Carrie protested.

  “It’s the step you needed,” Robert said firmly. “Now you’ll have the opportunity to show them what you know.”

  “And the opportunity to learn even more,” Carrie agreed with a laugh, her heart suddenly light. How she had wanted to share the good news with Robert. Janie had been thrilled for her, but Carrie hadn’t even had a chance to tell her father.

  “I want to do something fun.”

  Carrie was surprised by the sudden change of topic. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, amused.

  “There’s a party tomorrow night. They’re calling them starvation dances. Would you like to go?”

  Carrie struggled with her answer. The idea of a party in the midst of such suffering seemed a ludicrous thought. Yet, Robert surely needed something to divert his mind. “I’d love to,” she finally said.

  “Wonderful!” Robert leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Do you mind if I answer any questions tomorrow after I’ve had some sleep?”

  “You don’t ever have to answer questions if you don’t want to,” Carrie said softly, remembering the haunted look in his eyes.

  Robert gazed down at her for a moment and then drew her into his arms. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said gruffly. Then he lowered his lips to hers gently.

  Carrie was the one to draw back first even though she could have spent all night in his arms. “Go get some rest, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Carrie was dressed and
waiting when Robert arrived the next evening.

  “You look lovely,” Robert said, his eyes lighting with approval. “Someone told me the ladies in Richmond no longer had party dresses.”

  “It’s the only one I saved,” Carrie admitted. “It’s the one...”

  “You were wearing it the night we first danced. At the Blackwell ball. I remember. I’d never seen anyone look as lovely. You were a beautiful queen.”

  Carrie blushed. “I just couldn’t bring myself to have it turned into bandages. It was too special.” Her mind filled with memories of that magical evening. She knew she had fallen in love with Robert then.

  Robert leaned down to kiss her softly. “I’m glad.” Then he stepped back. You don’t look as if you spent a long day at the hospital.”

  “I’m glad I don’t look it. Unfortunately, I feel very much like it. But it’s a different kind of feeling,” Carrie said, a bright shine in her eyes. “Now I actually feel as if I’m making a real difference. Oh, I know the soldiers appreciated everything I did before, but ...,” She paused trying to think of the right words, “there’s just something about looking at a wounded soldier and knowing that because I did the right thing he probably is going to live.” Then she laughed self-consciously. “Not that I did any major life saving today. It’s just knowing I have the freedom.” Suddenly she laughed. “I don’t know how to put what I’m feeling into words. All I know is that I loved it. Every single minute of this long, exhausting day. I loved it!” Abruptly, she slapped her hand to her mouth.

  “What is it, Carrie?” Robert asked in an alarmed voice.

  “Did you hear what I said?” Carrie was horrified with herself. “How can I say I loved it when every man I saw today was suffering terribly? How completely selfish!”

  “What rubbish!” Robert snorted. “You didn’t love their suffering. You were loving the ability to help them. If it were up to you, this war would have ended yesterday.”

  Carrie looked at him quickly. “Does that bother you?”

 

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