A Promise for Tomorrow (36 page)
“I know why,” Virginia said and turned to look away toward the windows. “She died because she knew I hated her. She knew I could never love her.”
“If that is true, then why are you grieved? I think the real reason you suffer is that you tried hard not to love her, but in truth you loved her quite dearly.”
Virginia snapped back around to meet her sister eye to eye. She opened her mouth to speak, then dissolved in tears. Burying her face in her hands, Virginia could not contain her misery.
Carolina knew she’d hit upon the truth. Coming closer, she sat on the bed again in order to hold Virginia while she spent her tears.
Carolina prayed quietly and longed with all of her heart to give her sister peace of mind. Childhood memories haunted Carolina. It was as if she could visually turn the pages of their past experiences and see clearly the times when they had fought and bickered over petty differences. Then, too, were those times when Virginia had caused serious grief and harm, times when Carolina had felt a complete betrayal of their sisterly bonds.
But holding this broken woman now, Carolina let go of all the past hurts. She let go of her disappointment that they’d never been close. She let go of her bitterness and anger over the trials Virginia had put her through. And she let go of her fear of allowing herself to love her sister.
“It will be all right, Virginia. You will see. Little Martha knows that you truly loved her.”
“But she couldn’t,” Virginia said, shaking her head from side to side. “I never told her.”
“Tell her now,” Carolina whispered. “Ask God to tell her if you doubt she can hear you.”
Virginia grew still in Carolina’s embrace. “I did love her. I do love you, Martha.”
Tears stung Carolina’s eyes as she heard the hope, the longing in her sister’s voice. But it wasn’t until Virginia spoke again that Carolina completely understood the weight of her sister’s anguish.
“I love you, too, Carolina,” she said, pulling away. Her face was mottled from crying and ravaged from sickness, but Virginia no longer was concerned about such things. “You might not believe me, but I do.” Carolina opened her mouth to speak, but Virginia shook her head. “Let me say what I must.” Carolina nodded, blinking back tears.
“I’ve envied you for so long. You had York’s attention and Father’s. You were intelligent and self-assured, and you cared not for what people thought of you.” She paused for a moment to dry her eyes, then continued. “I hated that you were so capable, even though you were younger. You learned so easily, you loved so completely. And people loved you in return. Even James. Especially James.
“I knew James did not love me,” Virginia continued. “I saw the way he looked at you when you studied together. I heard the patience in his voice, the admiration that he reserved only for you. I hated you for that. I hated you for being able to take him so completely under your spell, while I searched for ways to impress him. I took my first drink of liquor the night of your coming-out party and then I went in search of James in order to seduce him. I knew it was wrong, but I also knew that he was so besotted with you, if I stirred his passions, he just might give in to me.”
Carolina could scarcely believe her sister’s confession. It was difficult to imagine anyone would do such a thing—that Virginia would have married James, even knowing that he loved another. How could she have been so desperate? As if the question had been spoken aloud, Virginia continued.
“I despaired of anyone ever marrying me. I was a laughingstock to my friends. They were married, or soon to be, and I had been so particular about men, I had chased off any potential suitors. When James came along, I felt certain it was my final chance. I had to make him agree to marry me, whether he loved me or not. But, of course, he didn’t love me. He loved you.” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Carolina, but I do need it, and I long for it.”
Carolina wiped at her own tears and offered Virginia a weak smile. “But you’ve always had it. I never stopped loving you.”
Virginia sighed. “If I truly have it, then I can die in peace.”
“I forgive you, Virginia, but not in order to send you on your way to the grave,” Carolina protested. “I give it freely as a healing balm. I want you to grow well and strong. I need you. Your children need you, even if Hampton doesn’t.”
“Hampton. Now, there’s another mess I got into because of my treatment of you. No need to forgive me for that one, Carolina. I saved your life in that situation. You would have married the man in an attempt to please me, or at least to be rid of me. I have paid the price of my actions ever since that night.”
“But in spite of that,” Carolina began again, “you have three children who need a mother. The twins are deeply wounded by your distance, and Nate has grown quiet and withdrawn. You must find a way to love them again. Forget about Hampton if you must.” Carolina let go of Virginia and got to her feet. “Father will find a way to control him.”
“It’s no use,” Virginia replied. “He would rather see us all dead.” She fell back against the pillows. “I don’t feel so well.”
Carolina felt a panic rise inside her. “I’ll send for the doctor.”
“There’s nothing . . . nothing he can do,” Virginia replied, her voice growing weak. “I’ll just rest. It’s enough to know you forgive me.”
“Then rest easy, because I do forgive you, and I love you more dearly than you know.” Carolina stroked her sister’s cheek. “Nevertheless, I will send for the doctor.”
Virginia looked up and the fear in her eyes was quite evident. “I’m going mad, just like Mother. My mind can’t deal with these matters.”
Carolina shook her head. “You are stronger than you realize. Childbed fever would have killed a weaker woman, but you have strength you’ve not even explored. God will strengthen you, Virginia. You must turn to Him. He can knit your body and mind back together and help you not be afraid.”
“If only I could believe that,” Virginia said and closed her eyes. “I want to believe that. I truly want to believe.”
“Then do so,” Carolina encouraged. “I’ll send Zed for the doctor and then I promise to come back and sit with you until he arrives. In the meantime, you think about what I’ve said.”
Virginia nodded, but Carolina worried that her efforts would be too late. Virginia seemed resigned to give up her life, and the sickness had already taken its toll. Could she recover with the love and help of her family? Carolina wished the answer might be evident, and soon. She longed to return to her husband, but she also felt bound to remain at her sister’s side. It was not an easy choice to make. Especially now.
James listened intently as Ben Latrobe outlined the various tasks being accomplished to connect the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad to the Ohio River. In the two days since his arrival at Cumberland, James had found Ben much preoccupied and greatly burdened. Contractors had failed to produce, some had even canceled, and supplies were slow to get to their destinations. Reletting contracts had taken time and additional monies, both of which Ben assured James the railroad could not afford.
“The Erie Railroad is nearly complete,” Ben protested. “It will connect New York City with Lake Erie and produce the means by which to move vast quantities of goods from east to west and pull away business from the National Road and the B&O.”
“Yes, but I heard they’d settled on a six-foot-wide gage for their rails,” James offered. “There will be no interaction between railroads at that rate, so they will lose business from other lines. Our own four-foot, eight-and-a-half-inch gage is rapidly becoming the standard for all lines, and the Erie will simply find themselves having to rebuild in time.”
“But for now their line will beat ours to completion, and much of our coveted business will go north. Baltimore simply must have this railroad to the Ohio!” Ben declared, his tone quite anxious.
“We will, Ben. We will. These setbacks you’ve described are only minor.” James hoped to reassure his friend. “I understand the Erie has had its share of trouble, as well. I read about their iron bridge collapsing last July. Turned them completely off of iron truss bridges, as I understand.”
“They were fools,” Latrobe replied. “The iron truss bridge is the way of the future. The contractor allowed to build the Erie bridge obviously understood little about working with iron. They cut costs, used substandard equipment, and for what? To line their pockets with a bit more gold. Now the contractor is charged with gross negligence and will no doubt lose everything.”
“But what of your designs?” questioned James. “I understood from Swann’s letter that you have actually set the Mount Clare shops to building iron frames for use on the bridges to be built west of this fair city. You obviously don’t intend to follow the Erie’s example and rid yourself of the notion of iron bridges.”
Ben settled a bit and grew thoughtful. “I see nothing but good in the use of iron truss bridges. We have engineered the first for our line on the Washington Branch. So far it has proven to be ideal.”
They spoke for some time of engineering feats and bridge building, subjects that fascinated James second only to engine designs.
Then Ben switched to a less enjoyable topic. “What of your Irish? Any more threats to strike?”
James shrugged. “They always threaten. I suppose it makes them feel as though they have some control. The real dilemma lies in the fact that they continue to despise each other and stir up a series of little problems, all in order to get back at each other. It costs me time and money whenever one side gets oppressive with the other.”
“Well, I hope to allay that problem soon,” Latrobe replied. “I have already contacted the Irish Immigrants League and requested the exact numbers necessary to even out all sides. I figure that the Connaughtmen are by far and away too demanding, and I mean to see that they meet their match in equal numbers. I’m certain this will settle matters nicely.”
James shook his head. “Just as I’m certain it will only cause the problem to escalate.”
“You’re too close to the problem to see it accurately,” Latrobe said simply. He put his glasses back on and met James’ doubtful expression. “From where I stand, and from the standpoint of the board, it seems a very reasonable solution.”
At that, a knock sounded at the door, and because it was James’ hotel room, it was clearly his place to see to the disturbance. He opened the door to find Kiernan O’Connor reaching out to knock once again.
“Ah, Mr. Baldwin,” Kiernan said, his voice emitting a tone of relief. “I feared ya might be gone.”
“What is it, Kiernan? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” James told him. The younger man was clearly shaken up. His eyes were wild with agitated fear, and his face was pinched and void of color.
“It’s me brother,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Can I come in and tell ya of the matter?” His Irish brogue was thick, further leading James to realize the degree of Kiernan’s concern. It seemed the young man’s voice always took on a much more decided brogue when he was upset or excited.
“Certainly,” James answered and stepped back. “You know Mr. Latrobe, don’t you?”
“Aye, I’m sure I do.” Kiernan afforded the man a tight nod that also encompassed his shoulders and passed as the briefest of bows. He twisted his cap in his hand until James closed the door behind him. “Ya see,” Kiernan continued without being prodded, “Red is afire because of the likes of the Corkians and Fardowns. They’re bringin’ in more men, or so Red has heard in town.”
James had brought several men with him from the tunnel site, including Kiernan and Red, all in order to help transport equipment and machinery back to Greigsville. He should have known it was a mistake to bring the cantankerous Irishman. Red would find trouble wherever he went—or maybe it was just that trouble found him.
“What does your brother plan?” James asked, throwing Latrobe a look that suggested he knew full-out war was impending.
“Red rounded up the Connaughtmen here in town. He’s riled ’em up, as if they needed the help, and he’s convinced ’em they need to fight.”
“But fight whom?” James questioned.
“Anyone who isn’t one of us. He plans to send them all back to the city—or to their Maker,” Kiernan answered. “Ya got to send them back, elsewise ya’ll have a fight on yar hands.”
“This makes little sense,” Latrobe interjected. “Your brother merely fears having his authority usurped, but in truth, the authority has always belonged elsewhere. Mr. O’Connor would do well to remember he is employed to do a job, and if he is unhappy with the conditions, he can always leave.”
Kiernan looked at James with a grief-stricken expression. “I didn’t come here to get me brother fired. I shouldn’t even be here, but I thought ya’d want to know. I hoped ya’d see the right in what I’m sayin’.”
“I understand exactly what you’re saying,” James replied. “I’d like you to take me to Red so that we can talk.”
“Now, I can’t be doin’ that,” Kiernan protested. “He’d know I’d come to talk to ya. He’d call me a traitor. He’s me brother, after all.”
“You don’t want him dead, do you?” James reasoned. “I simply mean to discuss the matter with him. He is here under my direction. It wouldn’t seem all that strange if I should seek him out and speak to him on this matter. After all, I could approach it from the point of making it an announcement. I could tell him of the impending arrival of additional men, and let him respond to the matter from there.”
“I suppose that would be all right,” Kiernan admitted. “I just don’t want him hurt. Ya understand?”
“No one intends to hurt your brother, Mr. O’Connor,” Latrobe interjected, “but neither do we desire that your brother would stir up trouble and cause hurt to someone else. If he would only listen to reason—”
Kiernan cut Latrobe off with a short, painful laugh. “Red, listen to reason? And wouldn’t our mum say the same thing if she could be a-speakin’ from the grave? Red won’t listen to ya. Yar not a Connaughtman.”
“But you are,” James interjected. “He’d listen to you.”
“Nay. I’m his little brother. He’ll tell me to shut me mouth and leave matters to him. He’ll not listen to me.”