Storm Clouds Rolling In Read online

  “I don’t care about that. What I care about is having my son alive!” Her voice broke. “I already lost a husband on a slave hunt...” She lowered her head into her hands and began to cry. “I can’t lose you, too!”

  Immediately, Robert was at his mother’s side, holding her hand and stroking her bent head. “It’s alright, Mama. Everything is alright. Nothing happened to me. Nothing is going to happen to me.” He continued to stroke her head and talk to her softly until she had regained control. Then his voice hardened, “I’ll be back soon, Mama. I’m going down to teach the remaining slaves a lesson. They won’t be thinking about running away again soon.”

  “You’ve become just like your father.”

  His mother’s voice stopped him. “What?”

  “You were just a boy when your father died. But the same hardness and hatred is in your heart… Where did it come from?” she asked helplessly.

  Robert stared at her and then stalked off the porch.

  Carrie continued to think as Granite cantered down the road. It was time to talk to her father. She would not leave the plantation until her mother was well, but it was important her father know how she felt - what she believed. They had always been honest. She didn’t want that to change now. She would talk to him tonight.

  Thomas was waiting on the porch when she left the barn after handing Granite to Charles. Carrie ran lightly up the stairs. As she drew nearer, she realized her father was standing at rigid attention. Concerned, she slowed her steps. What was wrong? She glanced up and saw the light still burning in her mother’s window. She must still be awake. Carrie was glad - she wanted to tell her she had her answer. She knew her mother wouldn’t understand, but she had hope now that she would accept her.

  “Carrie...”

  Carrie stopped on the last step and stared at her father, but the shadows hid his face. His hoarse voice hardly sounded like her father.

  “Carrie...” Again Thomas’ voice drifted off as if he could not force himself to say the words. “Your mother...”

  “What, Father? What is it?” Carrie stepped on the porch now and was able to see her father’s face. She was shocked by the wild eyes and sharp grief etched there. Immediately she knew. Only one thing could cause that look. With a stifled cry, Carrie turned and ran up the stairs, ignoring her father’s startled shout behind her. She turned into the room and came to an abrupt halt, then slowly approached her mother’s bed.

  She was beautiful even in death. The ravages of the last months had been erased, leaving the smooth, peaceful face she would always remember. Carrie gently picked up one of her lifeless hands, tears flowing.

  “I love you, Mama.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Carrie stood on the steps, watching Sam load the last few things of her father’s into the carriage. Thomas, standing rigidly at her side, seemed unaware of the biting November cold. Carrie wrapped her cloak tighter to her body to keep out the invasive wind. She kept her eyes on the carriage to avoid looking at her father. The deep lines of grief had only deepened during the month since his wife’s death. He had seemed to age over night. Nothing seemed to touch him. She had not been able to reach beyond the wall he had erected to deal with his beloved Abby’s death. Carrie, forced to act on her father’s behalf, had shoved down her own grief. She had no choice but to remain strong.

  A recent letter from Governor Letcher, expressing his sympathies, and inviting Thomas to Richmond, had been the only thing to penetrate his lethargy. Carrie, encouraged by the small evidence of interest, had urged him to go. It had not taken long to convince her father to leave Cromwell. He seemed to want nothing more than to escape the constant memories that assaulted him at every turn. He had protested only once at the unfairness of leaving everything in Carrie’s hands and then had easily acquiesced.

  Carrie watched as her father’s eyes roamed over the pastures. They had once brought him great joy and satisfaction. Now they symbolized a lifetime of dreams shattered by Abigail’s death. He’d told Carrie that if he didn’t get away, he was afraid he would succumb to the whirling darkness trying to pull him into its endless depths. Maybe in Richmond he would find relief from the unending agony.

  “Sam has everything ready, Father.”

  Thomas started and focused his eyes on Sam who stood next to the carriage. Charles had just climbed into the driver’s seat. Steam rose from the horse’s nostrils, only to be whisked away by the wind. Slowly, Thomas turned to look down at his daughter. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you, daughter.”

  Carrie’s heart caught at the anguish on his face as he lifted his eyes briefly to his bedroom window. She forced her voice to be strong. “I hope you have a wonderful trip, Father. Everything will be fine here.”

  “I... I don’t know... I don’t know when I will be back.” Thomas looked down as he spoke.

  Carrie’s heart sank, but she kept her voice steady. “I know, Father. Come home when you’re ready.” There had been no talk of when her father would return. She hoped for the best, but was prepared for the worst. Carrie was now the mistress of Cromwell Plantation. “I love you, Father.” She kissed him gently on the cheek, took his arm, and led him down the stairs. Oh, how she hated to see her father like this. He had always been such a strong man. Now he resembled nothing more than a broken shell.

  Carrie watched as the carriage rolled down the driveway. The wind whipped at her cloak, but she was unaware of the cold now. She had wanted nothing more than to leave Cromwell Plantation. Now she watched as the whistling wind snatched her dreams and carried them above the treetops, far from her reach.

  Rose watched Carrie from her bedroom window. She ached for her friend but didn’t know what to do for her. Carrie had been unreachable since her mother’s death, her only concern to care for her father. Rose knew her friend had buried her own grief in order to survive. As she watched the cold wind whipping at the slender body held in rigid defiance of life, she longed to go and wrap her arms around her.

  Rose turned away from the window. Her mama had asked her to come down to the Quarters this morning. Carrie wouldn’t need her for a while. She reached for her cloak and hurried out into the biting wind.

  Moses looked up at the sound of the door slamming, and Rose flashed him a smile. Sam was having trouble with his back again and had asked Moses to do some work at the big house. The labor in the fields was done for the season. All the field hands were doing repair work around the plantation now.

  Just to see Moses during the day was enough for Rose’s hungry eyes. Soon they would be husband and wife. They still wouldn’t be able to live together – she would have to stay in the house – but at least they would be man and wife. Time would take care of the rest.

  Rose lowered her head, pressed into the wind, and strode down the dirt road. She would have sung, but the wind would have whipped the words out of her mouth before they could even be formed. She felt sorry for Miss Carrie, but her own life was overflowing with love and joy. There was only a month to go before the day she and Moses had set for their wedding. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Miss Carrie yet, but she knew she would soon. The biggest change, however, had occurred in her own heart – she was a new person since the night in her Mama’s cabin when she had let go of all the hate.

  “Well, looky what we got here. A nigger woman!”

  Rose, startled, looked up and came to an abrupt halt as Ike Adams stepped from the bushes. She could tell in a single glance that he was drunk. His eyes were red and wild, and his face hung in a loose recklessness. She glanced around quickly. No one was in sight. She fought the panic rising inside and stood quietly before him.

  Adams leered and moved closer. “Well, well... A nigger woman... and a right good looking one at that.” He reached out his hand and touched her cheek roughly.

  Rose struggled to remain calm. She knew the meanness in this man. If she made him angry there was no telling what he would do. She tried to breathe normally as she continued to look him in the eye. Go
d, help me...

  “Woman, you ever been with a real man?” Adams slurred. “I be needing me a real woman. What a coincidence that you happened along.” He reach out his other hand, grasped her hair roughly, and pulled her toward him.

  Rose, horrified, knew what the gleam in his eye meant. She knew Adams felt he was all powerful now that Cromwell was gone. Frantically, she tried to figure out a way to escape what was surely to come. Then Adams’ lips found their mark. Gagging, Rose pulled away. She knew immediately that she had made a mistake.

  Adams cursed, grabbed her head with both hands, and claimed her lips roughly. He let his cruel lips linger for only a moment, before he wrenched away, dropped his hands to her shoulders, and pushed her toward the woods. “Think you’re too good for me, nigger? You ain’t seen the beginning of what I aim to do to your pretty body. I don’t reckon it will be fit for any man when I’m done with it.” He gave her a mighty shove that almost sent Rose sprawling, then lost his own balance and stumbled to his knees.

  That was all the chance Rose needed. She would not be raped! She knew there would be punishment, but she would not simply submit to Adams’ evil plan. Just as the drunken man reached up to grab her again, she wrenched away and began to run down the road.

  Immediately, Adams was up and after her. “I’ll catch you, nigger woman!”

  Rose gasped as his laugh rang out behind her. Her only hope was to reach the Quarters. Maybe the sight of the other slaves would bring him to his senses. She ran blindly, pumping her legs faster, her long skirt and heavy cloak hampering her with every step.

  Adams caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder. He dug his fingers in cruelly and wrenched her to a stop. “I told you, you can’t get away from me nigger woman. I always get what I want. Right now I want you!”

  The venom in his voice made Rose’s blood turn to icicles. There was no way to escape this monster. She controlled her desire to scream as he undid the buckle of his belt and slowly pulled it out.

  “I reckon you need a lesson in how to treat your overseer, nigger woman.” Adams pulled back his arm and gripped the buckle so tight his knuckles whitened. His face contorted with anger as he whipped the belt forward.

  Rose saw it coming. She tried to brace herself for it, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain that coursed through her body as the rough leather of his belt cut into the tender flesh of her cheek. Her shrill scream pierced the air, and then she turned to flee again.

  Carrie, still standing on the porch heard a scream rise on the wind and then fade away as the wind whipped it past her. “Rose?” she whispered. It took a moment for the scream to register in her brain. Then she whirled around and stared down the road. She could see nothing, but she knew what she had heard. “Rose!” she cried.

  She picked up her skirts and began to run down the stairs. Something stopped her in her tracks, however. She dashed back up the stairs, across the porch, and into the house. A moment later, she reemerged and flew down the road.

  Adams was only inches from Rose when she ran into the Quarters. Blinded by the tears of fright and pain coursing down her face, she headed for her mama’s house. She didn’t know what else to do. But she had no more than turned in that direction when she felt Adams’ fingers clutch her bruised shoulder again. Caught off balance, she pitched forward and slammed into the hard ground.

  Sarah, roused by the commotion, peered out of her door and then ran toward her daughter.

  “Touch her and she’ll get it worse, old nigger!” Adams reached for his horse and grabbed his whip and a piece of rope out of the saddlebag. He whirled and stalked to where Rose huddled on the ground.

  Sarah groaned, but stopped when she saw the whip. She had seen what it could do.

  Adams, an evil leer on his face, reached down and grabbed Rose by the arm. He jerked her up and shoved her roughly toward the middle of the Quarters. “Ain’t no whipping post of no use here, but that tree there should do the job. It’s good enough for a nigger like you. You’ll find there ain’t no use in not giving me what I want!” He grabbed her shoulder, pushed her up against the tree, and groped for the neckline of her dress.

  Rose knew what was coming. Adams was finally going to let out all that meanness.

  “No!”

  Adams jerked back in surprise as the strong voice bellowed across the clearing. Whirling around to see who was yelling at him, his evil grin spread wider. “Well if ain’t the giant nigger himself. My, my! My day just keeps getting better and better.” He fingered his whip and locked eyes with Moses.

  “Let her go. She ain’t done nothing to you!” Moses’ voice was low and deadly.

  “And how would you know that nigger? Besides, what does it matter to you?” Adams’ face lit up as understanding flashed into his sodden brain. “This be your woman, nigger? Well, if that don’t make things a sight more interesting.” Suddenly, he snarled and pulled the whip back. “Back off nigger, or I’ll whip this girl until you won’t know who she is. For sure, she won’t be the pretty thing you’re lusting after now!” He released the whip, allowing it to just graze Rose’s shoulder. She cried out and shrank against the tree.

  Moses growled and prepared to launch an attack.

  “Stop it!” Everyone in the clearing spun around when the shouted command was accompanied by the sharp crack of a rifle. “Drop that whip, Adams!”

  Adams face tightened into a mask when he saw Carrie Cromwell’s slight figure behind the barrel of her father’s gun. “What you think you doing, Miss Cromwell? You watch yourself or you gonna hurt someone with that rifle.” He gripped the handle of his whip tighter, and began to walk slowly toward her.

  Moses was still crouched, his eyes darting back and forth between the two.

  Carrie never flinched. Calmly, she stepped toward the overseer. Then, pulling the hammer back on the gun, she took careful aim. “You can be quite certain I know enough about this gun to put a bullet through your useless heart, Adams,” she said coldly.

  Adams stopped and stared at her. “Your father would tell you to leave this business to me, Miss Cromwell,” he snarled.

  “My father told you from the very beginning that there was to be no abuse of Cromwell people. I also know he told you a few months ago that if you were ever to touch another one of our people that it would be the end for you.” She gripped the gun tightly as she spat out the next words. “You’re finished, Adams. Get off this property and never come back. I want you and your family out of your house by nightfall.” She paused, then continued coldly, “I should just go ahead and put a bullet through your heart, but I feel sorry for your wife and children.” Then she raised the gun. “I could change my mind, though. Get going before I do!”

  Adams stared at her in disbelief for only a moment. Blanching white, he rapidly coiled his whip and headed for his horse.

  “Drop the whip, Adams. I’ll want it in case you ever get it in your mind to come on this property again. It might do you good to see how it feels,” Carrie snapped. Adams, his face white with rage, dropped the whip and vaulted on his horse. “You’ll be sorry for this, Miss Carrie Cromwell!” He allowed himself one burning look of hatred before he kicked his horse into a gallop and disappeared down the road.

  Sarah and Moses both sprang forward at the same time. Rose huddled against the tree, allowed the tears to flow freely as she sobbed into Moses’ shoulder.

  Carrie lowered the gun slowly, then dropped it and hurried to Rose’s side. It was several long minutes before Rose lifted her face from where she had buried it in Moses’ chest.

  “He hurt you!” Moses cried, anguish twisting his face as he saw the long ugly welt oozing blood.

  Carrie felt sick as she stared at her friend’s disfigured face. “I should have killed him,” she cried angrily. “I should have killed him while I had the chance!”

  Rose shook her head. “You did the right thing, Miss Carrie. He didn’t hurt me bad. God heard my cry and saved me!” She reached up and touched Moses’ face tend
erly, interpreting the look on his face. “He didn’t rape me, Moses,” she whispered. Moses nodded his head mutely, his eyes full of rage and sorrow. Then he groaned, cradled Rose’s head in his hands, and stared into her eyes.

  It was Sarah who took charge. “We got’s to take care of that cut. Carrie, go get what we need,” she commanded.

  Carrie left the gun laying in the clearing and raced for the root cellar.

  Carrie prepared a tray of food and carried it to her room. Rose had protested, but Carrie had insisted she recover from her experience in her own room. Moses and Sarah looked up as she entered the room. “I have enough for everyone,” she smiled. Rose stared at her as she laid the tray of chicken and fresh biscuits on the table next to her bed.

  “Miss Carrie, I’m feeling much better. I can go back to my room now.”

  Carrie shook her head firmly. “I’m the doctor. I’ll tell you when you can leave.” She dropped her pretense of sternness and leaned forward to grab Rose’s hand. “I just want to be sure you’re alright,” she said tenderly. “It makes me sick inside to think what that horrible man almost did to you!”

  Rose stared as bright tears sprang into Carrie’s eyes. “I’m all right, Miss Carrie.”

  “My name is Carrie, Rose. That’s what I want you to call me.”

  Rose was speechless. She looked to her Mama for help.

  Sarah regarded Carrie for a long moment. “You been doin’ some changin’, girl.”

  Carrie smiled and nodded. “You’re right as usual, Sarah.” She lowered her eyes for a moment and then looked back up. “My mother’s death knocked the life out of me for a while, but I’m going to be okay now.” She didn’t know how to explain that hearing Rose’s scream had torn her out of her pity and moved her back into living.

  “Your Mama be in a better place, Miss Carrie.”