Spring Will Come (7 page)

             
“I’m glad,” Carrie said fervently.

             
Matron Pember nodded.  “Humanity is humanity.  Our job is simply to ease the suffering as best we can.”

             
Carrie walked in silence for a few minutes then asked the question that had burned in her heart all day.  “I have a friend.  His name is Robert Borden.  Did you by any chance...?”

             
The matron put her hand on Carrie’s arm sympathetically.  “I haven’t heard the name, Miss Cromwell.”

             
Carrie nodded.  “Of course, you haven’t.  It was silly of me to ask.”

             
“Silly to ask?  Silly to care that someone you love might be dead or wounded?  I think not.  You have a deep capacity to care, young lady.  Never lose that.  You will lose yourself if you do.”

Thomas was waiting for Carrie when she walked in the door.  Neither one said a word.  Carrie took one look at her father’s fatigued, worn face and walked into the arms he held out to her. 

              After a long moment, her father pushed her back gently.  “We can talk in the morning.  It will be here soon enough.  We both need some rest.”

             
Carrie kissed him on the cheek gently and then turned to trudge up the stairs.  She entered the room quietly so as not to disturb Janie. 

             
“Carrie?

             
“Yes.”  She should have known her friend would be awake.

             
“Are you okay?”

             
Carrie was silent as she tried to decide how to answer.  A breeze ruffled the curtains, carrying with it the lingering smoke from the battlefield.  The faces of all the young men she had comforted that day flooded into her mind.  The pain on their faces, the confused fear in their eyes.  She bit her lip against the memories.  Overlaying it all was Robert’s face as she had last seen him the night before.  The strong voice, the tender eyes, the feel of his lips on hers......

             
“Carrie?”  Janie’s voice once more broke the darkness.  Moments later she was standing beside her friend.  “You’re exhausted.  Let me help you get ready for bed.”  Wrapping her arm around Carrie’s waist, she led her toward the closet. 

             
Janie’s touch undid the control Carrie had fought all day to maintain.  With a low moan, she turned into her friend’s arms and allowed the tears to come.  Tears for all the pain surrounding her.  Tears for Robert.  Tears for the present.  Tears for the future.   Janie stood quietly, her arms encircling Carrie strongly, and let her cry. 

             
Finally Carrie stepped back.  “Thank you,” she gulped. 

             
Janie still said nothing. 

             
Within a few minutes, Carrie was undressed and in her nightclothes.  She willingly allowed Janie to lead her to her bed.  When Janie pulled back the covers, she slipped into the clean sheets, her eyes already closing. 

             
“Tomorrow is a new day, Carrie.  Sleep tight.” 

CHAPTER THREE

             
The noise of voices downstairs woke Carrie the next morning.  She fought the pressing fatigue, forced her eyes open, groaned in protest as she stretched her aching muscles, and turned her head.  Janie was already gone, her bed neatly made.  Confusion swarmed in.  Why was Janie gone so early?  Why was she so tired?  Why did her eyes feel swollen?  Suddenly it all came rushing back.  The battle the day before.  The never-ending flow of wounded soldiers.  Pushing back the covers, she rose and moved quickly to stare out the window.  It was still dark - the stench of gunpowder and smoke still heavy in the air.  To the east she glimpsed the faint lightening of the sky as the sun prepared to spotlight the scene.  The morning air was quiet. Even the birds were silent as if in mourning.     If there was to be another battle today, it had not yet begun.  

             
Thomas was finishing his breakfast when she entered the dining room.  “Good morning, dear.” 

             
“Good morning.”  Carrie’s heart was still heavy, but her cry the night before had released some of the pent-up emotion. She sat down in her place and looked at her father expectantly. 

             
Thomas drank a sip from the cup he held then made a face.  “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to this stuff they call coffee.”

             
“I understand one can develop a taste for ground sweet potato peels,” Carrie said with a small smile.  She had tried one cup of the concocted brew and decided she could do without coffee till after the war.

             
Thomas took another sip then put the cup down on the polished wood.  “You had a rough day yesterday,” he stated.  “I saw enough on the sidewalks to make me ill.  I can only imagine what it’s like in the hospitals.”

             
Carrie took a deep breath as the images from the day before swarmed like a mob of angry bees into her mind.  It was all she could do to control her tears as the pain she had witnessed once more rose to taunt her.  “It was terrible,” she responded flatly.  “The South’s best young men are being slaughtered and mutilated.  When this war is over, their lives will never be the same.”

             
Thomas sat silently for a long moment.  His voice was heavy with both sorrow and defiance when he finally spoke.  “I realize the cost of this war is high.  But it is a cost that must be paid.”

             
Carrie said nothing, but she knew her face spoke volumes. 

             
“The great objective of the Confederate states is to bring the war to a successful close.  Every other consideration must yield to that; surely you see that!” Thomas said sharply.  His voice softened as he continued.  “Without victory we can hope to enjoy nothing we possess, and nothing we do possess will be worth anything without it.”

             
Carrie had never wanted the war to start in the first place.  Now that it was here she was simply trying to do her best to make a difference and alleviate a small part of the suffering.  Yes, she wanted the war to end because it would mean the end of the suffering, but...  “People once thought the war would never come to pass.  They were sure the North would never come down here to fight.  Then they were sure one taste of the Confederate might would send them running home with their tails tucked between their legs.  What are these people saying now?” she asked softly.  “What do they say when they see the thousands of wounded men filling our city?”

             
Thomas hesitated, but his voice was still defiant when he answered her.  “The South has been forced by the North into all-out war.  We didn’t want it, but now that it’s here we will fight it.  Victory is all that matters.  No price can be too high.  No matter what changes we are forced to accept, they simply must be accepted.”

             
Carrie gazed at him.  “They brought in a woman last night,” she said finally.  “She was wounded while trying to help tend the men on the battlefield - shot in the back.  They don’t know if she’ll make it.”  She paused for a long moment.  “What if that had been me, Father?  Would that price have been too high?”

             
Thomas shifted under her steady look, but his face did not soften.  “I hope to God I never have to pay such a price.  I’m glad you’re safe in the hospital.”

             
“Is that why you’re willing to pay the price?  Because no one you really love - no part of your family can be hurt by the war?  Does that make the price easier?”  Carrie demanded, aware of the bitterness in her voice.  She
knew
what price she might have to pay.  She was all too aware that Robert might even now be dead, or lying wounded in a hospital bed.

             
“You know that’s not true!”  Thomas responded sharply.  Then he grimaced and reached for her hand.  “I’m sorry, Carrie.  I know you’re worried about Robert.  I am, too.”  He paused.  “War is simply a horrible thing.  But can’t you see this is a war that simply must be won?  Can’t you see that right is on the side of the South?” he pleaded.  “We are fighting for a just cause,” he finished firmly.

             
Carrie was quiet for several minutes.  The silence in the room seemed to grow, her father’s questions flowing around her, taunting her to find an answer.  Finally she looked up at her father.  “Maybe,” she said slowly. “But tied up in the
just cause
is slavery.  Thousands of our country’s best are suffering and dying to maintain the slavery of millions of others.  Where is the justice in that?” she finished quietly. 

             
“Would you rather the South lost?” Thomas demanded.  “That our way of life be destroyed?  That all these deaths be in vain?”

             
“I already think these deaths are all in vain!”  Carrie snapped.  “There is no reason for a sixteen-year-old boy to have to live the rest of his life without an arm and a leg.”  Other hot words surged to her lips, but she bit them back, aware her sorrow, pain, and fatigue were seeking a release in anger.  Her country was already divided.  She knew families were being split apart by differing loyalties.   Now it was her turn to reach out to touch her father’s arm.  “Father, I don’t want to fight.   I love you.”  She gazed at his angry face as she implored.  “Our country is at war.  I know there are things we disagree about, but we can’t let the war destroy us as well.”

             
Thomas’ face softened.  “You’re right, Carrie.  Somehow we will deal with the differences between us.”

             
“It’s your fault, you know.  You made me this way,” Carrie teased, trying to interject a lighter note.

             
Thomas managed a slight smile.  “Because I let you grow into a stubborn, strong-willed young lady.  Would that I could do it all again!”

             
Carrie leaned forward.  “Would you do it differently this time?”

             
“Not a bit,” Thomas responded immediately.  “I raised my daughter to think for herself - to be her own person.  Granted, I never thought we would come down on different sides of such a volatile issue...” his voice trailed off.  Then he shook his head.  “I love you the way you are, Carrie.  Just do me a favor,” he said with an attempt at humor.  “Don’t go fight for the Union.  We would never win this war.”

             
Carrie stood and moved to where he sat then leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a fierce hug.   She was stunned by the tension and fatigue she felt radiating from his body.  “I love you,” she said tenderly.  “Now, tell me what is happening in our city.”  She could only hope that talking would release some of the tension he was holding.  It was at times like this she could imagine how much her father must miss her mother.  He had talked to her about so many things.  She had been so good at making him laugh - at making the lines of worry disappear from around his eyes.   Carrie had watched the life ebb from his eyes when he had lost his beloved Abigail.  How she wished her mother were here now!  She would know how to help him through these times. 

             
Thomas sighed.  “From what I can tell, which is not much at this point, we were able to push back McClellan’s troops.  It is too soon to have the whole story, but it seems it was a miracle even that much happened.”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“General Johnston issued orders that were never received or were hopelessly misunderstood.  Whole regiments never even saw the battlefield because they didn’t understand where they were supposed to be.    From all we can tell, McClellan’s troops far outnumber our own.  We have no idea why he didn’t just sweep down and take the city.”

             
“Robert told me General Lee said McClellan is overly cautious.”

             
“It may be all that saved us,” her father said grimly. 

             
“What does President Davis think about what’s going on?”