A Hope Beyond

by Judith Pella

  Don’t hate me, he prayed, seeing the dismay grow rapidly into panic. He watched her turn to the tall, blond Mr. Cabot and say something, and when the man nodded and led her from the room, James knew that his prayer had gone unheard.

  She despises me, and with good cause, he thought. But the anguish was still nearly too great to bear. He had never known such pain as this. It ripped through him like a hot knife—scorching— burning every part of him.

  He wanted to go after her and plead with her to listen to his explanation, but what could he say that would make any sense? He’d acted in complete foolishness. His departure had been born out of selfishness and indecision. He could see that now, but he could also see that he’d fled confrontation and heartbreak. He might have gone about it in the wrong way, but it had been the right decision to refrain from marrying a woman he didn’t love.

  Clenching his fists to his side, James forced himself to remain in place. He couldn’t go after her. She’d made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Otherwise, she would have waited. Waited for him to come to her from across the room. Waited for him to return from Baltimore. Waited to say yes to him, instead of Hampton Cabot.

  Carolina felt she could barely breathe through the tightly corseted gown. It was bad enough to know that she was the brunt of so much gossip. But to find James actually here, after such a long absence, was more than she could bear. She wanted nothing more than to forget him, yet his image followed her from the dance floor; and while it was Hampton Cabot at her side, it was James who filled her thoughts.

  “You look unwell, my dear,” Hampton said, leading her into an empty side room.

  Carolina knew it was unwise to be alone with Hampton, especially in light of her confusing emotions. James! She couldn’t even think his name without feeling the tightening in her chest. “I’m just a bit winded,” she finally offered Hampton, whose worried expression seemed most sincere.

  “Here, sit for a moment.” Hampton helped her to a small settee.

  “Thank you.” She bowed her head, unable to look him in the eye. Earlier that evening she’d discussed Hampton with Julia Cooper. Carolina had done a great deal of soul-searching and had come to the conclusion that perhaps the only thing she could do to rectify things between her sister and the rest of the world was to marry Hampton and move quietly away. At least then, the gossip might die down.

  Julia had agreed. She’d even encouraged Carolina to promote Hampton’s proposal by leading him away from the crowd and into a room such as the one they were in now. Would Hampton believe that to be her reasoning? She had thought herself capable of accepting marriage to him, even knowing that she didn’t love him. He could take her away from Oakbridge and Virginia’s hatred, away from the misery of seeing her mother go completely insane. Julia had promised her that love would come in time. All she had to do was accept his marriage proposal.

  And that was what she’d intended to do, but now all of her plans lay shattered. With one look at James Baldwin, Carolina knew her heart could never be in such a union. Hampton would demand her love and devotion, and rightly so, but how could she give him what clearly belonged to another? Carolina put her hands to her head, longing to force the thoughts from her mind.

  “Should I send for a doctor?” Hampton asked.

  Carolina shook her head and folded her hands again in her lap. “No, I’ll be fine in a few moments. Please return to the party if you like.” She looked up at him and found him smiling.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, slipping into the space beside her. His large frame pressed closely to hers to accommodate the small settee. Carolina instantly tensed and tried to move away, but Hampton would have no part of it. He pulled her into his arms and whispered against her ear, “Not after you went to so much trouble to get me here.”

  “I never—”

  “Shhh,” he said, lowering his lips to hers.

  Carolina’s mind raced in a hundred different directions. She pushed at Hampton and tried to turn her face away, but to no avail.

  “Don’t tell me that you didn’t want me to do this,” Hampton said, finally pulling back just enough to look her in the eye.

  “You don’t understand,” Carolina began. “I know what you must think, but it isn’t true.”

  Hampton relaxed his hold, and Carolina took advantage of his surprise to jump up from the settee. Somehow she had to convince Hampton she could never be the wife he wanted.

  “You have to listen to me, Hampton.” She used his first name, hoping the familiarity would calm the agitation she read in his expression. “I don’t love you and I don’t believe I ever could.”

  Hampton came to her but refrained from touching her. “All evening you have presented yourself in such a way to suggest that you were very much open to receiving my affections.”

  “I’m sorry. I am to blame. I thought perhaps I could.” She paused, putting her hands to her head again. “I wanted to give you a chance, but I can’t go through with this.”

  Hampton reached out and took hold of her wrists. “You’re just scared.”

  “No.” Carolina shook her head and tried to pull away. But instead of releasing her, Hampton pulled her toward him.

  “I’ve no interest in games. You are a pampered little girl who doesn’t know what she wants.”

  “You’re wrong,” she breathed. You are so very wrong, she thought silently. I know what I want, but it isn’t you.

  Without warning, Hampton pulled her forward, and Carolina lost her balance and fell against him. He crushed her to his body and refused to set her free. “You need to remember your place. You need to forget about your books.”

  “Let me go,” Carolina demanded, rapidly losing her composure.

  “Don’t you know how much I want you?” He kissed her hard, bruising her lips.

  Carolina stamped her foot down on the top of his, but her satin slipper made little impact against his boot.

  “Stop fighting me and tell me that you’ll marry me.”

  “I can’t, Hampton. I don’t love you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Besides, now that we’re here alone, your reputation is probably finished. You already know the gossip around town. Virginia tells me that you—”

  “Virginia admitted them to be lies to suit herself. I’ve done nothing to compromise my reputation, unless you count this.”

  Hampton leered. “In this day, the slightest unsavory gossip could find you forever unacceptable in polite society. You should be grateful to find a man who pays no heed to what you might have done with Virginia’s beau. I’ve had plenty of other women in my life, and knowing that you dallied with your sister’s fiancé is just proof of your youth. But here and now, the outcome could be quite different. You are no longer fifteen. Should they find us missing and locate us in a private hotel room, even a sitting room such as this, you could well be forced to marry me. Even your father would insist.” Hampton seemed to consider his own statement for a moment.

  Carolina choked back a sob. “My reputation has already suffered considerably.” She couldn’t help but think of the cold, calloused treatment she’d received that evening by the Armstrong family. Virginia’s lies were still circulating among a few who wanted to think the worst of her. Who could know what the end result would be?

  “Then cast away your inhibitions and come away with me tonight. Don’t you see how much I want you?” Hampton buried his hands in her hair and bent her back to accommodate his height. “I desire you, Carolina. Nothing else is of any importance.”

  “Not even my feelings on the matter?” She turned her face to refuse the kiss he would have forced upon her. “Release me, Hampton. I want to go home!”

  “It would appear your companion is less than interested in your attention, my good man.” The voice of a stranger halted Hampton’s actions and allowed Carolina to pull away.

  Frightened beyond her wits, Carolina hugged her arms to her body and began to cry.

  “Sir, you are n
ot wanted here,” Hampton said firmly. “I must demand that you leave.”

  “I defer to the lady’s wishes.”

  Carolina lifted her face to meet the harsh gaze of her unknown rescuer. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in surprise. The willowy black-clad stranger was the same man she’d disturbed, nearly a year before, in a Baltimore cemetery. The recognition was instantaneous by both parties.

  Hampton didn’t seem to notice or care. He was obviously angry at the interruption. “The lady is with me.”

  “No I’m not!” Carolina said, suddenly finding the courage to speak. She moved toward the dark-eyed man, feeling the intensity of his stare upon her. “Thank you, sir, for your assistance.”

  A part of her wanted to offer him an explanation, while another part wanted nothing more than to seek solace in the arms of James Baldwin.

  “Carolina Adams, this is far from over,” Hampton declared as she moved to the door, putting the stranger between them.

  “It must be. Good evening.”

  She gave the stranger a single nod and hoped that her feelings of gratitude were clear by her expression. She hurried from the room, wiping her tears as she went.

  She wanted to go home and forget that this evening had ever taken place. She quickly scanned the crowd. York and Lucy had already departed for the evening with Julia’s promise to see Carolina safely to their home after the dance. Julia, however, was dancing with her husband and seemed far too preoccupied to offer Carolina any assistance, and given Virginia’s deceit, Carolina honestly wondered if any of her other friends would even consider helping her. Even James was nowhere to be found. Had he left when she had so rudely run from him?

  “If I might be so bold, my driver would be happy to deliver you safely home. I’m staying here at the hotel, so I assure you it will not indispose me in the least.”

  It was the voice of the stranger. Turning to face him once again, Carolina knew there was no other answer. “Thank you, sir. I would be grateful.”

  26

  Negotiating the Future

  “Ben Latrobe tells me you’ve been a valuable asset to this railroad,” Louis McLane said, sitting back in his chair. James shrugged. His mind was far from the subject of the railroad. “And,” McLane continued, picking up a letter, “Philip Thomas says here that you have offered creative solutions that have saved the B&O a great deal of money.”

  James did his best to focus on the new president of the Baltimore and Ohio. And in reality he was not a man easily ignored, with his striking appearance crowned by deep-set eyes that could make a man stand and reckon with his actions. Those eyes burned with such fierce intensity, James didn’t know how his own mind could have wandered.

  Louis McLane glanced over the letter once more before laying it aside. “I’m impressed with your references, Mr. Baldwin. As you know, I’ve been hired on with the sole purpose of pushing this line west of Harper’s Ferry and on to the Ohio River. It won’t be an easy task, especially now in light of the depressed economy. This country is suffering greatly,” he noted, as if it might be news to James.

  “You may not be aware of this,” McLane continued, “but wheat crops in the surrounding areas are being devastated by some type of insect. I believe they’ve called it the Hessian fly, but it matters little what name they give it. What’s important is that it furthers the depression of this country. Farmers are going to lose a great deal of money, and, in turn, people will have no food to buy. Obviously folks can’t afford to invest in railroads when they have trouble putting food on the table.”

  McLane seemed to study the papers on his desk a moment before continuing. “I like what I see in you, Mr. Baldwin, but keeping you on for much of any kind of salary is going to be difficult at best. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but just last week the Irish laborers on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal rioted.”

  “I had heard something to that effect,” James replied.

  “They’ve rioted before and usually over money, conditions, supply shortages, and general ill-will. I believe a shortage of everything has triggered this bout.” He leaned forward; great lines of worry seemed etched permanently in his forehead. “The railroad is at a standstill; otherwise, we’d probably have more of our own riots to contend with. The B&O is barely running. But, of course, you probably know all of this.”

  James wearied of the battle raging within his mind. A part of him wanted to immerse himself in work and the future of the railroad, while another part kept bringing to mind Carolina on the arm of Hampton Cabot—the man she would marry! He fought to clear away every image but that of Louis McLane and the railroad.

  “I don’t understand one thing,” James said, forcing the direction of his thoughts. “Other railroads are actually thriving in spite of the financial crisis. I’ve paid close attention to this through a variety of sources. Several small lines in New York and Pennsylvania, for instance, are running at a profit.”

  “Yes, but those lines are completed. They move from one place to another with a specific purpose, whether it is to haul coal or milk. The Baltimore and Ohio is not successful because it is not complete. We have not even reached our first real objective on the main stem, which is Cumberland. Cumberland represents the eastern terminus of the National Road, and it is from here where we can benefit by picking up the main flow of wagon shipments from the West and stagecoach travel.”

  “But the Washington Branch is doing well. The passenger traffic is up considerably,” James offered.

  “And do you suppose it will continue to do well when repairs cannot be made to keep up the line? Do you suppose when engines and railcars break down and repairs can’t be made for lack of funding it will continue to do well? Not to mention that people must have money in hand in order to spend it on travel.”

  James was finally able to fully realize what McLane was saying. And his concerns over Carolina and her possible marriage to Hampton Cabot were overwhelmed by fear for his very job. His mind was now completely fixed on saving the B&O. “What is to be done?”

  McLane seemed to sense James’ change in spirit. “We must reach Cumberland. If not, then all is lost and the B&O will fail.”

  “And how do we do this without funding?”

  “We will have to find new sources of support.”

  “Europe?” James asked, knowing McLane’s reputation for international connections.

  “Possibly, but it is doubtful. They, too, are suffering. Especially England. You must remember that, in a way, this all started with that country.”

  “How so?” James asked.

  “They were heavily investing in American prosperity. Last summer, with Jackson’s passage of the Specie Circular, England began to see the wisdom of curtailing trade with American companies. Their own banks refused to issue further credit to merchants who planned to do business with America. This, of course, caused problems for merchants on both sides of the Atlantic, and by March, financial panic in England caused banks there to demand payment in American gold.

  “Naturally, draining this country of its resources created a plunge downward from which we couldn’t hope to recover in time to keep from crashing into complete ruin.”

  James felt a hopelessness come upon him. He’d worked hard to see the Baltimore and Ohio become successful, and even though he was but one single man in the midst of many, he felt he owed her an allegiance in her time of trouble.

  “I’ll work for stock,” James said, suddenly seeing a plan. “In fact, I would bet a great many men will work for food and stock alone.”

  McLane nodded. “That would save some expense. However, unless we can get the state to honor the pledge of financial support they made last year, we won’t have any supplies to put in the hands of those workers.”

  “Still, it will take very few supplies to continue the survey to Cumberland. Once that is established we can put men to work clearing the road of trees and establishing passage for the rail. That will require little more than putting picks
and shovels in their hands, at least to start. I do realize there will be areas that will require the blasting out of rock and the building of bridges, but it would at least set the beginning.”

  “I’ve already considered that matter, and I agree completely with you. Still, there is the problem of convincing the workers that they should give us their all, when the pay will be so very little. In fact, we may need to forego cash and issue script instead.”

  “Railroad script?”

  “Yes. Company money. Certain stores would honor it in lieu of cash, at least for a time. The B&O’s reputation is sound, and I’ve little doubt it could work. That is, if the men will work for script or even your idea of stock.”

  “I’ll talk to them,” James replied. “They know me and they know they can trust me. I’ll explain the situation, and I just know they will see it our way. After all, what other job will they have to go to?”

  “Those with families aren’t going to be inclined to stay,” McLane said, thinking through the matter.

  “Probably not and rightly so.” James paused, thinking of Carolina once again. “If a man is responsible for a wife and children, he cannot very well work for stock.” He felt suddenly relieved that he’d not come back to Baltimore as an engaged man. He could never offer his services in such a manner if he was obligated to a betrothal. “But the idea of script might well intrigue them.”

  “Very well, Baldwin. I’ll draw up the details of what we can offer, and you take it to the men. Agreed?”

  “Yes, sir,” James said, getting to his feet. He extended his arm and shook McLane’s hand enthusiastically. “Agreed.”

  But the workers were far from enthusiastic about James’ proposal. Most of the men were married, and many had already given up on the B&O as a means of support. Returning to Baltimore from Harper’s Ferry, James was a defeated man. He hated the idea of facing McLane. The list of those who’d signed on to work under the new agreement was small, and James knew full well it represented less than a quarter of the men they needed.