Glimmers of Change Page 5

  “Where are we headed?” Robert asked.

  Carrie held a finger to her lips, beckoned to him to follow, and pushed Granite into an easy canter, once again giving thanks she had turned her back on sidesaddle riding. Being astride Granite in warm breeches was the only way to ride. Her friends in the South still looked askance at her when they met on the road, but women in the North had embraced the freedom years ago.

  She took long breaths as they cantered side by side down the road leading toward the woods. Carrie could feel Robert looking at her curiously, but he said nothing. She knew he expected her to take them down to the river. Instead, she was heading toward a thick patch of woods she suspected Robert had never explored. She was glad the Christmas snow had melted away before the latest wave of cold swept in. It had been years since she was in this part of the plantation — she was certain she couldn’t have found the trail if it was buried under snow. As it was, she worried it would be too overgrown for her to find now.

  Carrie slowed as she reached the edge of the woods, her eyes trying to penetrate the darkness and heavy brush. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a faint trail leading deeper into the trees. Holding up her hand for continued silence, she edged Granite forward at a steady walk. Moving slowly, they dodged overhanging branches and made their way carefully around fallen trees. The glow of the half moon was just enough to light the way. The frozen ground echoed back the thud of hooves, and brittle branches snapped in the cold as they pushed through them. Finally they broke out into a clearing. One look told Carrie her surprise was waiting.

  “I didn’t even know this was here!” Robert exclaimed as he gazed at the small lake nestled in the woods.

  “I hoped you hadn’t discovered it,” Carrie said with delight.

  “This is a great surprise.”

  “Oh, this isn’t your surprise,” Carrie murmured as she swung off Granite’s back and tied him to a hanging branch. She waited for Robert to dismount and tie Diamond, then she took his hand and led him forward to the edge of the lake. “This is your surprise,” she announced, waving her hand over the lake. The lake caught the moon and sent it shooting back as diamonds glittered from along the entire shoreline.

  “Look at that…” Robert said slowly, amazement filling his voice as he leaned down. “The whole lake is surrounded by ice sculptures! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Carrie nodded happily. “The conditions have to be just right. If the air is cold enough, and the wind blows strongly enough, the water forms ice sculptures on everything it hits. I discovered them for the first time when I was thirteen.” She paused. “I’ve never shared them with anyone but you.” She gazed up at Robert, her eyes soft with love. “I used to dream of bringing my husband here to see them. This is the first opportunity.”

  Robert leaned down to kiss her warmly, holding her face as he peered into her luminous eyes. “You are one in a million, Carrie Borden. Thank you for loving me,” he whispered.

  Grabbing her hand, he began to walk along the edge of the lake. “This one looks like a cluster of grapes.”

  “A cluster of grapes full of diamonds,” Carrie agreed. “Look how they are reflecting the stars.” She pointed further to the right. “That one looks like a heart. See how it is wrapped around the branch suspended above the water?”

  “Magnificent,” Robert muttered, his head swinging as he tried to take it all in. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful,” he murmured.

  Carrie felt the sudden tension grip his body. “Robert?” She knew so many different things could trigger the pain and agony of the last four years.

  Robert stood on the shoreline and took several deep breaths until he could speak. “This time last year I was hauling frozen carcasses out of the Petersburg trenches. Men I had eaten with the night before had frozen to death,” he said slowly, his voice laced with pain. “I just can’t believe there can be so much pain and fear in the midst of such beauty,” he muttered as he leaned down again to touch an ice formation that looked like a bird in flight. “It seems to me that if people could simply absorb the raw beauty of God’s world they would find a way to live in harmony. They would see their own fears and greed as being so tiny and unimportant if they could truly grasp God’s power.”

  Carrie knew his thoughts had never strayed far from Matthew’s announcement this morning. Somehow all of them had been able to push aside the reality and bring laughter to the rest of the day as they played games and ate around the fireplace, shoving aside their turmoil for the children’s sake. But she had seen the trouble lurking in her husband’s eyes. She knew it was more than memories of the war. “You’re afraid it will come to Cromwell,” she said.

  Robert looked down at her. “I think 1866 is going to be a year of challenges,” he finally acknowledged solemnly, but he said no more.

  Carrie tried to swallow the surge of panic that rose in her throat as she wrapped her arms around Robert, letting him hold her close. “I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.

  “You’re not going anywhere for four more months,” Robert said roughly, his lips pressed against the top of her head as he rubbed his hands down her back.

  “One day, or four months. I can’t imagine saying goodbye again. I can’t imagine not knowing what is going on with you every day.” She fought against the images of marauding vigilantes sweeping the countryside.

  Robert held her back and stared down into her face. “We will not let fear rule us,” he stated firmly. “If we do, they will have won. We have to live our lives as if there is no fear.”

  Carrie held his eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. Finally she managed a small smile. “Old Sarah used to tell me that fear does nothing but keep me focused on the past or worried about the future.” Her smile grew as she remembered. “She told me if I could acknowledge my fear, I would also realize that right now I was okay. That right now I am alive. That right now I can see the sky and all the ice sculptures nature has created. That right now I am still with the man I love more than life itself.”

  She felt her anxiety lift as she spoke the words. Once more she turned her face up, losing herself in a kiss that completely blotted out her fears.

  Chapter Three

  Janie was shivering uncontrollably as she walked the last block toward home. She was wearing two layers of clothes, had on her warmest coat, and was bundled with gloves, scarf, and a warm hat, but she was sure nothing could keep out the biting cold. She was quite sure it was cold in Richmond, but she was also convinced she had never been in a city as cold as Philadelphia. Gray snow, turned grimy by coal dust, blanketed everything in sight. Workers had tried to clear the sidewalks, but there was simply nowhere to put the mountains of snow that had been piling up for the last two months. The sixteen inches that fell shortly before Christmas had been packed down by sidewalk traffic, but her feet kept pushing through, causing her to walk very slowly. Her thick boots were no match for the cold that had seeped through to every pore of her body.

  The sidewalks were peppered with people, but no one spoke. Heads down, hands shoved deep in pockets, everyone was simply intent on getting where they were going. Janie was so grateful she had a home to look forward to. She wondered how many of the miserable looking people were going to a home that was barely warmer than the brutal outdoors. She knew the suffering in the city was terrible. She walked the last hundred feet rapidly, drawn by what she knew awaited.

  She gasped when she opened the door to Abby’s beautiful home and felt warmth pour out toward her. “Heat!” she cried joyfully.

  “Shut that door!” a voice called. “It’s taken us all afternoon to get the house warm.”

  Janie laughed as a wave of delicious aromas flowed to her on the warm air. “Gladly! Especially if I really am smelling barley soup and bread. Please tell me I’m not having hallucinations.”

  Elizabeth Gilbert, her round face smudged with flour, appeared from the kitchen with a broad smile on her lips. “You�
��re not having hallucinations,” she answered. “You’re smelling bread and soup — just not barley soup. Alice and I got out of class early today because our professor was called into an emergency. We decided to use it to surprise you and Florence.” Her eyes held a question as she looked beyond Janie.

  “Florence will be here in a just a little while,” Janie assured her. “Doctor Anderson wanted her to stay after class a little while today. I offered to wait, but she insisted I come ahead. I believe Dr. Anderson is going to have her driver bring her home.”

  Elizabeth relaxed. “Good. I hate to think of her walking the streets alone after dark.”

  “I wouldn’t have let that happen,” Janie said firmly. She lifted her nose and sniffed. “If it’s not barley soup, what is that remarkable smell?”

  “Mulligatawny soup,” Elizabeth answered promptly.

  Janie stared at her. “What kind of soup?”

  Elizabeth grinned. “Our southern belle hasn’t ever heard of Mulligatawny soup?”

  “Is it meant to be eaten?” Janie asked. “It sounds rather like a strange disease.”

  Elizabeth laughed loudly, her Massachusetts accent even more pronounced when she called over her shoulder. “Alice, our little southern belle has never heard of our famous soup!”

  Alice Humphries appeared moments later, her blond hair creating a stark contrast to Elizabeth’s dark Italian features. “I told you she would be surprised!” She grabbed Janie’s hand. “Come on. The soup will be a little while longer, but we have hot tea brewing on the stove.”

  Janie sighed and followed willingly, the torture of walking home forgotten now that she was warm again. “Please tell me about Mulligatawny soup.”

  Alice laughed and pointed her to the recipe box on the counter. “This soup is my grandma’s specialty. My brothers and I grew up on it.”

  Janie picked up the recipe card as she settled down at the table. She took a moment to gaze around the light blue kitchen with white cabinets and counters. Even after three months of being here, she hadn’t lost her sense of awe that Abby had so generously offered her Philadelphia house to live in while she was in medical school. The first few weeks had been rather lonely. The loneliness had disappeared when her fellow medical students, Elizabeth, Alice, and Florence, moved in with her. They had been here little more than a week, but they already felt like family. The situation suited everyone.

  Janie accepted the hot cup of tea Elizabeth held out to her, pushing her soft brown hair absently back from her face. Pulling off the thick winter hat always undid her half-hearted attempts to keep it tamed with a bun. She focused her light blue eyes on the recipe card.

  MULLIGATAWNY SOUP

  Ingredients: 2 tablespoons of curry powder, 6 onions, 1 clove of garlic, 1 ounce of pounded almonds, a little lemon-pickle or mango juice to taste; 1 fowl or rabbit, 4 slices of lean bacon, 2 quarts of medium stock or, if wanted, very good, best stock.

  Mode: Slice and fry the onions of a nice color; line the stew pan with the bacon. Cut up the rabbit or fowl into small joints and slightly brown them; put in the fried onions, the garlic, and stock, and simmer gently ‘til the meat is tender; skim very carefully, and when the meat is done, rub the curry powder to a smooth batter. Add it to the soup with the almonds, which must be first pounded with a little of the stock. Put in seasoning and lemon-pickle or mango juice to taste, and serve it with boiled rice.

  Time: 2 hours.

  “This looks like Indian cuisine,” she said with surprise as she looked at Alice’s blond hair with a raised brow.

  Alice smiled. “My grandma had a good friend from India when she lived in England. She came over to America when I was about five years old. She brought the recipe with her. My brothers and I made her cook it for us every time we went to visit. When she learned I was going to medical school, she wrote up the recipe so I could make it here.” She gazed around the kitchen. “I couldn’t imagine I would have a place to cook,” she said in wonder. “I thought surely I would be stuffed into some tiny, drab, freezing room.” She waved her arm. “Instead I am living in the home of one of the wealthiest women in Philadelphia in absolute splendor.”

  The odors wafting from the pot grew more wonderful by the moment. Janie patted her growling stomach and looked at the stove yearningly. “The recipe says two hours. How much longer?”

  “You just have time to go up and get into more comfortable clothes,” Elizabeth said. “The soup is done. We’re just waiting on the bread. It should be ready when you get back.”

  Janie closed her eyes with a happy sigh. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Yes,” Alice said, pushing her from the chair, “but you can do that in your room. We’re going to start eating when the bread comes out, whether you are here or not,” she warned.

  Janie laughed, gave both Alice and Elizabeth a quick kiss on their cheeks, and spun from the room, laughing even harder at their surprised looks. “I love you both!” she called over her shoulder. Her wonderful new Yankee friends were warm and loving, but they hadn’t yet learned to deal with what they called her unique brand of southern hospitality.

  Janie gazed longingly at the closed door to what would be Carrie’s room when she arrived. She loved her new friends and had been completely accepted, but there were times she wearied of being the only southern woman at the medical school. The original plan was that she would wait for Carrie to arrive in the spring before she started classes. Dr. Anderson convinced her there was no reason to wait — that her years at Chimborazo gave her enough practical experience and knowledge.

  Carrie had been so excited about Janie’s news in the letter she had sent before Christmas. Janie smiled as she envisioned the beauty of crisp, clean snow at Cromwell Plantation. She wondered if everyone had left the plantation after the holidays and gone back to their busy lives.

  When she entered her room — chillier than downstairs, but still warm because of the constant flow of warm air from the oil heaters — she felt the quick tug in her heart that constantly reminded her of how much she had to be grateful for. The nightmares of Clifford coming for her had almost disappeared, but she had not yet stopped looking for him when she walked home from school, anticipating every man would have his angry face and eyes. Looking into the mirror, she raised a hand to her face. She never wanted to forget the yellow and purple bruises that had covered it after Clifford hit her. The memory of the pain and humiliation kept her focused on doing whatever it took to stay in complete control of her life so no one could ever have the power to hurt her again.

  A call from downstairs made her turn away from the mirror and quickly change into a more comfortable dress. She had a brief vision of Carrie in the riding breeches she had become so fond of. Janie thought longingly of how much warmer they would be on the streets of Philadelphia and then shook her head with a laugh. She was becoming stronger and more independent, but she was not quite the rebel Carrie was. She raised enough eyebrows and ire simply by choosing to study medicine. There were some female protocols she was content to live with, even if she wished it were different.

  Florence pushed in through the front door just as Janie hurried down the stairs, drawn by the smells of dinner that were even stronger than before. She laughed as Florence staggered in and closed the door behind her, her red curls spilling out when she pulled off her hat.

  Tall and angular, Florence was not necessarily pretty, but her commanding presence pulled attention to her everywhere she went. She shrugged her coat off as she slipped out of her boots. “We’re breaking records tonight,” she announced.

  “Records?” Alice asked, peering out from the kitchen.

  “It’s minus eighteen degrees outside,” Florence muttered, her voice strengthening as she lifted her face to smell the air. “Is that dinner?” Her face split in a grin. “Have I really come home to a prepared, hot dinner?”

  “Just don’t get used to it,” Elizabeth called, breezing into the room. “I will admit it’s a welcome break
from cold sandwiches while we study, though.” She rubbed her hands in anticipation. “I’m glad you made it in time. I just filled your bowl and plate. Do you need to change?”

  “Forget changing,” Florence stated. “Lead me to the food!”

  Laughing, the four women filed into the kitchen.

  Florence looked at the bowls of soup on the table, her grin growing even wider. “Mulligatawny soup!” she cried. “I haven’t had it in years.”

  Janie shook her head. “Yankees,” she said lightly, her eyes bright with laughter. “I’m quite sure this soup has never made it past the Mason-Dixon Line. I can’t imagine that a single friend of mine would have any idea what this is.”

  “Which explains why you Rebels aren’t as bright as we are,” Florence retorted, knowing her comment would be taken with the humor it was meant to carry.

  Janie shrugged. “Bright enough to make an A on my first physiology exam,” she said playfully, immediately regretting her words when she saw her friend’s expression.

  Florence scowled. “Oh sure, rub it in my face.” Her eyes showed discouragement. “I studied my heart out and I still struggled,” she admitted. Then she grinned as she ate a spoonful of soup, followed by a chunk of bread slathered with butter. “Not that it seems important right this minute.”

  Janie felt a tug of sympathy. She knew how hard Florence studied. She also knew Florence envied how easily Janie’s grades came to her. “Don’t feel badly,” she said quickly, her voice thick with remorse.

  Florence waved her hand casually. “I don’t. I may have difficulty taking tests, but I stayed later today because I’ve been asked to assist Dr. Anderson with some of her patients in the clinic. It seems my natural abilities are outshining my dismal academic record.”