Storm Clouds Rolling In Page 45

  Moses and his men were on Adams before he could even focus his eyes. Dazed from his fall, he made no move as a piece of cloth was wrapped tightly around his eyes and another stuffed roughly into his mouth. His hands were pulled tightly behind him and tied, and then his feet were trussed.

  Jupiter, who had sprung forward to grab Ginger, stood quietly watching the operation. Not a word would be spoken until they had disposed of Adams. They would take no chance he would recognize them.

  Moses stood and stared down at the bound man who was just beginning to show signs of struggle. He had hoped the fall would knock Adams out. He knew the slightest whisper or slip among the men could jeopardize all their lives. The other men waited, knowing what he would have to do next. He grimaced in distaste, but set his face with resolve, pulled his arm back, and aimed a mighty punch at Adams head.

  Instantly, Adams’ head lolled back and his body went limp. Moses leaned down and rifled his pockets. He was no thief, but part of his scheme was to make the attack look like a robbery. There was precious little money, but what he found he threw into the bushes with a mighty heave. Then he leaned down, threw Adams’ unconscious body over his shoulder and walked to where Jupiter was holding Ginger. Unceremoniously, he dumped Adams across the saddle, and then used the two remaining pieces of rope to secure him. He took the reins, turned, and began walking rapidly down the road in the direction Ike Adams had come from.

  Jupiter opened his mouth as if to say something, but Moses held his finger to his lips. He would take no chances. There would be no words spoken until they had disposed of Adams and made it back to Cromwell safely. Jupiter nodded, and then sprinted on ahead so he could watch for approaching riders and signal Moses to hide in the woods with his bounty. There would be no way to explain five slaves and a tied-up overseer.

  Rose watched carefully as the men who had returned earlier from the Possum Hunt filed into the great barn. Her hopes that Moses and the rest of the men he had taken would be with them were quickly dashed. Questioning looks were on many faces, but no one said anything. Ignorance was best when it came to things like this. Music was soon floating from the cracks in the barn. Nobody happening by would think anything was out of order. The “Big Times” Christmas Eve dance was under way! In spite of her worries, Rose found herself caught in the spirit of the music. Drums, made from hollowed logs, beat a steady rhythm. Handmade, stringed instruments blended with the two fiddles Carrie had sent down from the Big House for the celebration. Lanterns illuminated the cavernous building and the smell of barbeque pervaded the air. The clapping and stomping got louder and louder as the evening progressed.

  Sam danced over to where Rose leaned against the wall, watching the celebration. “Not dancing ain’t going to solve nothing, girl. They’s gettin’ ready to ‘pat the Juba’. How about one dance with an old man?”

  Rose smiled in spite of herself, and nodded. “Think you can keep up with me, Sam?” she teased.

  Sam grinned, grabbed her hand, and spun her onto the floor. Rose laughed and joined her voice to sing with the rest.

  Juba this and Juba that

  Juba killed a yeller cat

  Juba this and Juba that,

  Hold your partner where you at.

  The sun was just beginning to tint the horizon when Moses walked into the cabin. Rose, braiding her hair in front of the warm fire, spun to meet him. “Moses!” she cried as she ran to embrace him.

  Moses held her close for a long moment and then pushed her gently away. “You’ve got to get to the Big House. Now ain’t the time for questions.” His voice was tired, but his eyes were content.

  Rose stared up at him. “Everything is alright?” She knew they didn’t have time to talk.

  Moses nodded and leaned down to brush her lips with his own. “I’ll tell you about it later. Merry Christmas, wife.”

  Rose smiled lovingly and pressed her lips against his, longing to stay home and take care of her exhausted husband. “Merry Christmas, Moses.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Carrie was up long before the rest of the house. Her father had not once mentioned Ike Adams and the slaves, but she knew today would be different. Would he accept her explanation? A soft noise caused her to look up just as Rose entered the house to slip down the hall. “Rose,” she called softly.

  Rose started and then smiled when she saw only Carrie. “You scared me, Miss Carrie!” She walked over and joined her friend next to the Christmas tree. “You’re up mighty early.”

  Carrie nodded and then looked sharply at her friend. “You look exhausted. Is everything all right?”

  Rose hesitated. “Ike Adams was on his way here last night to talk to your father.”

  Carrie waited. She knew there was more to the story.

  Rose just shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really know what happened. Moses just had time to tell me everything was all right when he came in this morning.”

  “Moses! What did he have to do with it?” Suddenly Carrie was frightened. She knew how much Adams hated Moses already. What was going on?

  Rose shrugged again and looked around. “Later, Miss Carrie. All I know is that he stopped him,” she whispered.

  Carrie started as she heard footsteps on the stairs. Rose melted from the room and disappeared into the kitchen. Carrie was left to stare and wonder.

  “Merry Christmas, daughter.”

  Carrie forced a quick smile to her lips, grateful her father was so preoccupied. Before her mother died, she never would have gotten away with the game she was now playing. Her father would have known in an instant she was hiding something. “Merry Christmas, Father.”

  Thomas gave her a quick hug and then turned to sink into his chair. After his initial greeting, he seemed content to stare into the flames of the fire. Carrie could tell his thoughts had already moved onto Richmond and what was waiting for him when he returned. It was just as well, she thought with a sigh. She sat down in the chair next to the fire and allowed her own thoughts to wonder.

  Finally, her father came out of his reverie. “What time will the slaves be here this morning?”

  Carrie shook her head. “They won’t be, Father.” Thomas looked startled - with good reason. The slaves of Cromwell Plantation always came to the Big House on Christmas morning. It was as much a tradition as the Yule Log. Carrie hastened to explain. “I didn’t want to share you this year, Father,” she said with a smile. “You’re home for such a short period of time...” She allowed her voice to drift off sadly, almost laughing at her performance. “I handed out all the clothing and gifts the day before you got here. The slaves seemed very happy. They all sent their best to you.”

  This strange turn of events seemed to have shaken Thomas from his lethargy. He frowned quickly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Carrie smiled gently. “This is the first time you have mentioned the slaves, Father. I thought you had plenty else to occupy your thoughts.”

  Thomas stared at her for a brief moment. “I’ve been selfish haven’t I, Carrie? You are carrying all the weight of the plantation yourself.” He shook his head slowly as he talked.

  Suddenly, Carrie realized just how content she was running the plantation. It was not her dream, but she was suddenly very sure she was where she was supposed to be – doing what she was supposed to do. “You’re not being selfish at all, Father.” She moved over and knelt next to his chair. “I am quite happy here.”

  Thomas stared at her as if trying to make himself believe it. “I should at least speak with Ike Adams. Thank heavens you have a competent overseer!”

  Carrie controlled the sneer of contempt that almost surfaced. She settled for just shaking her head. “Mr. Adams has worked very hard this year. I gave him some time off for Christmas. I do believe he has gone to visit family.” When Thomas frowned again, she hastened to reassure him. “We’re managing fine here, Father. Didn’t you say the place looked wonderful?”

  Thomas nodded. “You’re doing a superb job.” St
ill, his eyes were troubled.

  Carrie knew she needed to steer him away from the topic of the plantation. “And you’re doing a wonderful job, Father. I’m so proud of what you’re doing in Richmond. What will happen now that South Carolina has seceded?” She knew she was breaking her own rule of no politics on Christmas, but it was the only sure way she knew to distract her father. It worked. He was still talking when Robert and Matthew descended the stairs.

  Breakfast was a casual affair as they settled down around the table to laugh and talk. Everyone ate their share of the grilled chicken, eggs, ham, fish, hominy grits and biscuits piled high on platters set before them. The rest of the morning passed pleasantly as they played games, sang around the piano, and talked.

  Around noon, Robert turned to Carrie. “Could I talk you into a ride? I could use some fresh air and exercise.” Carrie quickly agreed, but then cast a look at Matthew sitting across the room with her father.

  He seemed to read her thoughts as he looked up with a quick smile. “Leave me out of this one, please. I would much rather sit here with your Father. My hectic schedule has left me desiring no more than peace and quiet.”

  Carrie turned to Robert with a smile. “Let’s go!”

  Christmas Day, 1860, was cold, but not bitter. The sun shone brightly and the wind was calm. Carrie was thrilled to get outside and release some of her nervous energy. The strain of keeping up appearances the last few days was beginning to tell on her. She knew the house servants were perfectly capable of putting the finishing touches on their Christmas dinner. And so, without even thinking about it, Carrie headed Granite toward her place. Little was said until she and Robert were standing, side-by-side, on the banks of the James.

  “Everything has been wonderful, Carrie.”

  Carrie turned to him. “I’m so glad. I wanted it to be special.” She smiled into his eyes and made no protest when he took her gently in his arms. She stood quietly and absorbed his warmth and strength.

  Finally Robert spoke. “Is it time yet, Carrie?”

  He said nothing else, but Carrie knew what he meant. Was it time for him to tell her how he felt? Carrie longed to say yes. She also knew that saying yes would destroy the magic they were experiencing now. To say yes would mean she would have to face all the things that stood as barriers between them. She knew the courageous thing to do. She could continue to put it off, but sooner or later, she would have to face it. She stood quietly as the battle raged in her heart. Then, knowing she was a coward, she slowly shook her head.

  She felt Robert’s frustrated sigh, but he said nothing - just held her a little tighter. Carrie hated herself for the game she was playing. Except it wasn’t a game. She knew she loved this man. She also knew that as long as they kept a distance they wouldn’t have to fight about the issues that had caused so much trouble in the past. She pulled away to look up into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Robert stared into her face for a long moment and then groaned softly. He pulled her close into a tight embrace, lowered his head and claimed her lips with a gentle, warm kiss.

  Carrie knew she should resist, that this kind of closeness would make the game harder to play, but she was powerless to do so. Everything in her responded eagerly. She encircled his neck with her arms and clung to him, her heart pounding. She lost all track of time as his lips exposed all the love in her heart.

  Finally he pulled away. They stared at each other, but didn’t move from their embrace. Robert’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I will wait, Miss Carrie Cromwell. I will wait for as long as it takes.”

  Ike Adams came to slowly, confused and aching. Where was he? What had happened? The last thing he remembered was trotting down the road on his mare, Ginger. Where had he been going? He frowned, trying to remember. Cromwell! He had been on his way to see Thomas Cromwell. He was going to be late! Surging forward, he tried to stand, only to discover he couldn’t move. Pain exploded in his head. He moaned and lay back on the ground as he tried to get his bearings.

  He forced himself to lay quietly, allowing his head to clear and his eyes to adjust to the dim light of wherever he was. Gradually, he realized his hands and feet were bound with ropes, and he was in some kind of small shack. A tiny beam of light shining through the cracks cast a small bit of illumination as he looked around. Things looked strangely familiar. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. The pain in his head was abating and he could think more clearly now. He tested the ropes and realized they were loosely tied. It took him only a few minutes to break loose from their confines.

  He sat up slowly, knowing quick movement could make him pass out again. When his head had cleared sufficiently, he stood and looked around him, his confusion growing. Why did everything look so familiar? What had happened to him? What time was it? A noise outside caused him to look up sharply. Were they coming back? He eased over to the door and crouched, ready to attack whatever came through the door.

  A child’s laugh filled the air and then the door was thrown open. Ike tensed to spring forward, and then stopped, confused. “Joseph!” he exclaimed. “What you doing here, boy?”

  “Daddy?” The slight, eight year old boy crept forward, his eyes wide with fear and surprise. “What you doing here, Daddy? How come you didn’t come home for Christmas?”

  Adams stared at him, trying to make sense of all of it. “What day is it, Joseph?”

  “It’s Christmas Day, Daddy. We just finished dinner a little while ago. We waited and waited, and then mommy said you must not be coming.” He paused, taking in his father’s wild condition. “I saved your Christmas present for you, Daddy.”

  Adams pushed past him and stalked out into the clearing. “How the hell did I get in my own shed, not more than a hundred feet from my cabin? Who’s playing games on me? Somebody is going to pay for this!”

  Joseph shrunk back against the shed.

  Adams’ angry roaring caused Eulalia to hurry out of the ramshackle cabin. “Ike Adams? Where have you been?”

  Adams continued to stalk around, growling under his breath.

  “Daddy’s been in the shed, Mommy,” Joseph offered.

  Eulalia pulled him to her side in a warm embrace and waited for Ike to explain. “Things not go too good with Cromwell, Ike?”

  Ike spun around, glad to have another target for his anger. “I ain’t never seen Cromwell!” he shouted. He looked down and realized his pockets were all pulled out. He held them out to her. “Somebody done robbed me. And then they brought me back and dumped me in our shed.” He didn’t need Eulalia’s look to tell him how ridiculous his story sounded. He shook his head, but could remember nothing.

  Suddenly he whirled around to look at the sun. Its position on the western horizon told him it was late. He knew it was of no use, but still - he had to try. Somehow knowing what he would find, he stalked over to the barn and threw open the door. Just as he expected, Ginger was munching hay contentedly, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Adams groaned. Was he really going crazy? Had he gotten drunk and couldn’t even remember it? He moved quickly to grab his saddle and felt a sharp pain shoot through his head. He put a hand to the back of his head and smiled grimly at the large lump he encountered. Someone had attacked him all right. Growling under his breath, he swore and cursed as he planned his vengeance. It took only minutes to saddle and bridle his rested mare.

  He said nothing to his watching family; just swung into his saddle and headed for Cromwell at a gallop. Maybe, just maybe he would get there in time. His thirst for vengeance increased as he rode. So, too, did his realization that he had no idea what had happened. Who could he vent his anger on?

  Robert, obviously not caring who was watching, took Carrie in his arms again before he climbed into the carriage. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised.

  Carrie nodded as she smiled into his eyes. “I hope so.” She had already said goodbye to her father and Matthew. She watched now as Robert joined the other two men in th
e carriage. Charles lifted the reins and the horses moved forward eagerly. Carrie stood silently until they had disappeared around the farthest bend, then sighed and turned to climb the stairs. The sun was just setting on the horizon as she turned to see if she could catch one final glimpse. They were getting a late start back to Richmond, but her father had seemed to sense Robert’s reluctance to leave and had allowed them to linger over the sumptuous Christmas feast long after they should have been on their way.

  Just as Carrie turned to enter the house, she heard the pounding of hoof beats approaching from the opposite direction. She moved to the edge of the porch. What she saw made her lips tighten with anger.

  “I figured he might show up.” The deep voice came from just behind her.

  Carrie gasped and started violently. “Moses! Where did you come from? You scared me half to death!”

  “Sorry, Miss Carrie.” Moses continued to stare down the road. “That’s Ike Adams, you know.”

  Carrie nodded shortly. “Go inside the house. I’ll handle this.” She spoke more sternly when Moses opened his mouth to protest. “You’re being here will only make him angrier. Please go inside.” When Moses nodded and turned away, she added quietly, “Just don’t go far.”

  Moses looked back with a quick smile and then reached for the door. It opened before he could touch it. Rose stepped out onto the porch quickly. “Here, Miss Carrie. You might need this.”

  Carrie reached for the rifle Rose held out to her. “Thank you.” She turned to stare down the road and wait for her unwelcome visitor. Rose and Moses gave one final look and then disappeared into the house. Carrie took comfort in knowing they were just on the other side.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Cromwell.” Adams seemed determined not to look at the gun she was cradling in her arms. He cast his eyes around, looking for her father’s carriage.