Shifted By The Winds

by Ginny Dye

  Thomas’ expression said he knew something was going on, but all he did was nod. Then he waved to a porter to carry their bags, led them to the carriage and gave them both a hand up to their seat.

  “Where is Abby?” Carrie asked. The disappointment pulsing in her heart told her how much she had counted on Abby being there to greet them.

  “At home preparing a feast with May.” Thomas shook his head. “I should have listened to her. She said she felt she was supposed to come, but I knew how much she had to do before we leave in the morning, so I convinced her to stay.”

  Carrie could tell how worried her father was. That knowledge gave her the strength to find a genuine smile. “I’m fine, Father. We just have a lot to tell both of you.”

  “I imagine you do, since we were expecting six and got two,” Thomas said dryly.

  “You got my telegram?” Carrie asked.

  “Yes, but all it did was create questions with no answers,” he quipped before he turned to Janie. “Where is Matthew? Please don’t tell me he’s not coming.”

  “He’ll be on the last train in tonight,” Janie assured him. “Things are heating up as the election draws closer. His editor asked if he would stay behind one more day to work on some articles. Matthew wouldn’t miss the Harvest Celebration for anything in the world.”

  Thomas snorted. “He wouldn’t miss being with you on Cromwell for anything in the world,” he corrected her. “Matthew Justin is a smart man.”

  Carrie chuckled as Janie’s face glowed with happiness. “You’re right as usual, Father.” She could feel herself relaxing as the carriage rolled through the autumn-colored streets. As she leaned back against the thickly cushioned seats, she suddenly became aware of the lone horseman riding closely behind them, a rifle straddling his lap. “Father…?”

  Thomas followed her eyes. “That is Joshua. He accompanies me everywhere I go,” he said.

  “Has something more happened?” Janie asked with a gasp.

  “No,” Thomas assured her.

  Carrie gazed at Joshua, liking the calm confidence radiating from his dark eyes. He gave her a solemn nod before his gaze once more scanned the road for any hint of trouble. “Have things gotten worse?” she asked. She held up her hand before her father answered. “And please don’t invent something to make me feel better because you’re worried about me. I would much prefer the truth.”

  “Nothing has happened,” Thomas stated again. “But…I imagine that is only because of Joshua and Burl.”

  “Burl is Abby’s guard?” Carrie asked.

  “Yes,” Thomas replied. “Jeremy has Mitchell. Either Eddie or Spencer stays close to Marietta.” He shook his head. “There are times I believe we are being too cautious, but I am also aware things are becoming increasingly tense as the South realizes they are about to lose President Johnson as their advocate. He’ll still be president, but the Republicans are sure to take control of the Congress next month. The South won’t be the same after that.”

  “And the people here blame the blacks, but they also blame the whites who support them,” Janie said.

  Thomas cocked a brow. “You must be engaged to a reporter,” he replied. “You’re quite well informed for a medical student.”

  Carrie could tell the humor in his voice was forced. “Do the vigilantes you are being protected from not realize increased violence will only intensify the consequences for the South when the Republicans take control?”

  Thomas sighed. “I’m afraid they’re not thinking any more clearly now than they did before the war began.” His eyes were dark with trouble.

  Carrie was suddenly tired of it all. Tired of thinking about what she had left behind in Philadelphia. Tired of what was happening in Richmond. Tired of what may be coming in the South. “No more,” she blurted. “I know I started this conversation, but now I’m going to end it. We all know there are bad things happening in the world. I don’t want to hear any more of it.” She wanted to take back the words as soon as she saw her father’s expression. He was watching her carefully. Just like he did when she had been a petulant child, or when she had been too overwhelmed with life during the war and thought she would snap under the stress. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely as she grasped his hand. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the carriage was making the final turn onto his street.

  “It’s quite all right,” Thomas replied carefully.

  Carefully. Carrie gritted her teeth as the carriage rolled the last hundred yards. She was out of the carriage even before it had stopped. She was laughing as she ran up the stairs to where Abby waited with open arms. Carrie was horrified when her laughter turned to gulping sobs as soon as Abby’s arms enfolded her, but there was nothing she could do to stop them. Abby remained silent and held her more tightly, one hand stroking her back gently. Carrie heard her father and Janie walk up onto the porch, and she heard the squeak of the door as they entered, and the thump of luggage as they deposited it into the hallway for Miles to take to their rooms, but still she held on to Abby.

  Finally the tears abated as calm returned to her heart. Evidently she had not cried enough tears on the train. She lifted her head from Abby’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she apologized weakly. She knew she didn’t need to apologize, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Nonsense,” Abby scoffed, though her gray eyes were almost black with concern. “Every mother wants her grown child to cry on her shoulder, especially one as strong as you are. It tells us we are needed.”

  Carrie smiled. She had loved her mother, but she had always dreamed of the type of relationship she had with Abby. “I love you,” she whispered.

  May stepped out onto the porch. “You plan on crying all the way through my dinner?” she demanded, her eyes glowing with worry as they stared into Carrie’s. She opened her arms wide and enveloped Carrie in a warm embrace. “I swear, I ain’t letting you go back to Philadelphia if you gonna come home like this. Don’t they know how to treat folks up there? I tell you, them Yankees just don’t know how to do things right.”

  Carrie laughed out loud, so glad to be home she could feel it expanding her heart. “Did you make apple cake?” she asked hopefully.

  May cocked her head. “I just might have.”

  “Warm apple cake with burnt sugar frosting?” Carrie suddenly realized how hungry she was.

  Thomas eased open the door and poked his head out. He looked relieved when he saw smiles on all their faces. “Anyone who causes dinner to be late doesn’t get apple cake,” he teased.

  Carrie felt cleansed by her tears. She hoped they were the last ones she would need to shed, though she suspected she would cry again when she felt Robert’s arms around her. She would feel like a weakling if Janie had not already told her she had cried buckets of tears with Matthew in the last week. Her overwhelming emotion was gratitude for people who cared about her.

  “I wouldn’t dream of delaying your dinner, May,” Carrie said happily as she wrapped her arms around Abby and May’s waists. “Let’s eat!”

  May grinned. “That’s my girl! Mr. Jeremy and Miss Marietta just came in the back. I told them you were having a sob fest on the porch with Miss Abby and gave them some hot biscuits to keep them in the kitchen.”

  “May!” Carrie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry again. Did everyone need to know when she was an emotional wreck? She looked up and saw two sets of eyes staring at her from around the corner of the foyer. She decided laughter was the best course of action. “Get out here!” she ordered, laughing harder when Jeremy and Marietta rushed out onto the porch to grab her in a hug. Janie was close behind them.

  The sun was just setting behind the hills in the distance. Its golden glow imparted an even more brilliant color to the trees. A gentle breeze whispered through the magnolia, the leaves rustling against her shoulder. Her beloved city was coming back to life a little more with each passing day. She heard the laughter of children playing in the streets, and the sound of mot
hers calling them in for dinner. It was the gentle rhythm of a southern town finding itself again after a brutal war.

  Everything important to Carrie was right here in Virginia. She pushed back the knowledge she had to return to Philadelphia in ten days. She had been grateful to discover the new session for the Homeopathic College wasn’t going to start until November first, but she dreaded the idea of returning north.

  A long silence fell over the dining room table. The dishes had long ago been emptied and cleared. The windows had been closed against the evening chill, a fire had been lit and was now glowing brightly, and the lanterns filled the room with a cheerful light.

  “Let me get this straight,” Thomas finally said. “You and Janie have both quit medical school, and are now at the Homeopathic College.”

  Carrie nodded. She knew their long story had been overwhelming. There had been some questions for clarification, but no one had interrupted once they started talking.

  “And you’re quite sure this is what you want to do?” Thomas pressed.

  “I’m quite sure it’s what I have to do,” Carrie said, not certain what the expression on her father’s face was communicating.

  “As am I,” Janie agreed. “I told you how much I disagreed with Carrie in the beginning, but I realize now that I can’t practice medicine any other way.”

  Carrie turned to Abby. “You haven’t said a word since we started talking. What do you think?”

  Abby smiled. “Do you know of a Dr. Joseph Hobson?”

  Puzzled, Carrie shook her head. “No. Should I?”

  “Dr. Hobson is a homeopathic doctor here in Richmond.”

  Carrie stared at her. “That’s not possible…” she murmured. “Homeopathy is almost completely contained within Pennsylvania and New York.”

  “Almost would be the operative word there,” Abby replied. “Dr. Hobson established his practice here in 1858. He left during the war but returned almost as soon as it ended.”

  “But how…?”

  “How would I know about homeopathic medicine? My dear, I’ve been involved with the women’s rights movement for quite a long time.”

  “And those are the very women who have caused homeopathy to spread so much through the North,” Carrie finished for her. “Elizabeth Cody Stanton?” she guessed.

  “She gave me my first homeopathic kit,” Abby agreed. “She also sent a letter of introduction to Dr. Hobson. He is quite a remarkable man.”

  Carrie gasped, her thoughts spinning. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “About homeopathy?” Abby’s voice was gentle. “My dear, you had decided you wanted to be a doctor. You seemed quite clear of the direction you wanted to go, and after years of surgery at Chimborazo you were certain you wanted to include that in your practice. There was no room for homeopathy in that course of action. I am well aware of the stance traditional medicine has taken against it.”

  “Yet surely you believe homeopathy is much more effective,” Carrie cried.

  Abby remained silent, but her expression was answer enough.

  “You should have told me!”

  Abby shook her head. “My job is to support your decisions, not try to direct them.”

  Carrie absorbed her words. Unbidden, visions of her mother trying to force her into the role of a typical plantation wife crowded her mind. She had long ago forgiven her mother for not understanding her, but the memories made her even more grateful for Abby. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Thomas had been listening carefully. “And you’re both quite sure you realize the consequences of your decision? I’m not saying I don’t support you. I just wonder if you know what a difficult path you seem to have chosen.”

  Carrie laughed. “When have you ever known me to do anything else?” Now that the story was out, she could feel herself relaxing even more. She also felt surer than ever that she had made the right decision.

  “And I seem to be becoming quite adept at it,” Janie quipped. “We’ve already paid a high price, Thomas. Losing our housemates was quite a blow. We’re still stunned that our decision would cause us to lose them as friends, but it doesn’t change what we know is right.”

  “Losing your friends is one thing,” Thomas replied, “but have you really thought through the professional ramifications?”

  “Such as our professors not acknowledging us in the hallway when we went to withdraw?” Carrie asked.

  “Or other students not willing to even look at us?” Janie added. “Yes, we have thought it all through. If anything, we have decided that something so threatening must be quite powerful. If they didn’t think homeopathy makes many of them look bad, they wouldn’t be so threatened by it.” She frowned, her blue eyes laced with sadness. “I have lost respect for women I once held in high regard,” she admitted. “I don’t understand how they can refuse to help people they could make well with a different approach.”

  Carrie sighed. “The most important thing is that I can wake up every day knowing I am doing my best to make patients well.”

  “And to keep them well,” Janie added passionately. “Standard medicine—what they call allopathic—focuses on healing people once they get sick. Homeopathy puts its focus on helping them not get sick in the first place.”

  “For what it’s worth, I completely agree with you,” Marietta said.

  Carrie turned to look at her. “Why?”

  Marietta grinned. “Two of my uncles are homeopathic doctors.”

  “What?” Janie exclaimed.

  Marietta nodded. “Two of my cousins became very ill with typhoid in the first year of the war. They both almost died.”

  “Until someone treated them homeopathically?” Carrie asked with excitement. Now that she was away from the strained atmosphere in Philadelphia, she was free to relish the joy of her new discoveries.

  “Yes. One of my uncles had been a pharmacist. The other ran a grocery store. Both of them went to school to become homeopathic doctors because they wanted to help people. They both have thriving practices now.”

  Jeremy raised a brow. “I learn something new about you every day.”

  Marietta grinned. “That’s just the beginning of my family secrets,” she teased. “We’ll be married long before you meet any of them. It will be too late for you to run away screaming.”

  “As if anything would make that happen,” Thomas scoffed. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with this young man, my dear.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Marietta said.

  Abby cleared her throat. “I’m still curious about something. I know you were down in Moyamensing helping with the cholera hospital when it was burned down. And I know that is where you met Biddy and Faith, who are both wonderful women, by the way—though you hardly need me to confirm that.” She paused, obviously trying to fit the pieces together in her mind.

  Carrie tensed, waiting. She had suspected Abby would be the one to press further. She wasn’t sure she wanted to delve into this subject now, but she supposed it was as good a time as any.

  Abby was watching her closely. “Why were you the one to feel such a compulsion to help the people in Moyamensing? I know you have an incredibly caring heart, but it seems like it was something more than that, since you put your entire career at risk to help them.”

  “I owed it to them,” Carrie said.

  Abby continued to gaze at her. Carrie felt like the older woman was pulling back the layers of her heart to discover what was really there.

  It was Thomas who broke the silence. “I don’t understand. How could you owe the people of Moyamensing anything? You didn’t know them.”

  Carrie took a deep breath, certain she wasn’t ready for this conversation, but she didn’t know how to put it back in the bottle now that it was out. “What do you know about Oliver Cromwell, Father?”

  “Oliver Cromwell?” her father echoed in a confused voice.

  “Oliver Cromwell, the Lord Protector of England,” Carrie answered. “Our ancestor.”

&n
bsp; Thomas shook his head. “Carrie, I…”

  “I didn’t know anything either,” Carrie responded. “All I knew is what you told me when I was a child, which is what you were told by someone who had probably been told the same thing. I was taught that Lord Oliver Cromwell was a very important man. Someone we should be very proud to have in our heritage.”

  “That’s true,” Thomas agreed.

  Carrie felt sympathy for what she was about to say to her father. She couldn’t imagine he would receive the truth any easier than she had. “Lord Oliver Cromwell was not a good man,” she said. “He is not someone I am proud to have as an ancestor.”

  Thomas stiffened. “What have you been told?” he asked. “I assure you…”

  Carrie held up her hand. “I heard it first from Biddy and Faith.” she admitted. “I believed what they told me, but of course I had to discover the truth for myself. I wasn’t just treating cholera patients while I was down in Moyamensing.” She glanced at Janie because she hadn’t told her friend this part. “I was also researching our family history. Biddy has a library full of history books. I kept digging until I was confident I knew the truth.” She paused, understanding all too well the strained look in her father’s eyes. “We can talk about all the details another time,” she offered. She was aware, though, that Abby’s question had not been answered.

  “Moyamensing is primarily Irish,” Carrie continued.

  Abby nodded, her eyes still questioning. “I was aware of that, but…”

  Carrie wished even more that she had not started this conversation, but she was aware there was never going to be an easy time. “Lord Oliver Cromwell was largely responsible for sending thousands of Irish to serve as slaves here in the United States before blacks were used,” she said. She could probably be communicating this in a more sensitive way, but she was suddenly exhausted. “He single-handedly destroyed almost all of Ireland,” she said heavily, the weight pressing on her once again. “Every person I treated was here in some way because of his actions. Philadelphia was going to let them die.” She took a deep breath. “I owed them because of what my ancestor did.”