Shifted By The Winds (67 page)

Moses eyed her. “I do believe you mean that.”

“Of course I mean it. Why wouldn’t I?”

“The part about having another child?”

Rose smiled, recognizing the look in her husband’s eyes. “I don’t need the possibility of another child to make me want to love my husband.” She ran her hand down his chest and then rolled over to blow out the candle.

Robert knew he should be sleeping, but something was calling him to go outside. Since he couldn’t sleep anyway, he rolled out of bed, reached blindly for his clothes in the dark, dressed quickly, and then slipped out of the house. Nothing but frosty silence met him as he looked toward the barn. He thought about checking on the horses, but there was no indication of a problem, so he turned and began to walk slowly down the road. The night wrapped around him like an icy blanket and the stars seemed to merge with the diamonds littering the ground as the temperature dropped. Winter was here, but they had not had their first snowfall yet. He glanced at the sky, comforted by the glimmering stars. He was eager for the snow this winter, but he didn’t want it to come until Carrie was home again.

Her train would be chugging into Richmond in just two days. She would arrive on the plantation the following day. He had been dreading the long, cold days in a lonely bed. Now he had nothing but sheer anticipation of the winter. It would be fine with him if they were snowed in for days at a time. He smiled as he envisioned it.

Robert strolled along, relishing the realization that he was free from worry. Mark and Susan’s check for the colts and fillies had arrived the day before. They had paid half of the agreed upon amount. The balance would be paid in the spring when they picked them up. Even the half was more than Robert had hoped to earn in his first year. In spite of his willingness to negotiate, Mark had insisted on paying top dollar. Robert had protested, but had given in easily because he knew the quality of horses Mark was getting. They were worth every penny.

The hooting of several owls broke the stillness as they called back and forth. Robert listened closely, wishing he could interpret what they were saying. Perhaps they were doing nothing but heralding the arrival of a new season. He wondered how many of them were watching him right now. When he heard a very quiet whoosh sound over his head, he knew an owl had just flown by. Felicia had explained to him, after emerging from the library one day for her mandatory ride, that owls have specialized feathers with varying degrees of softness that helped muffle sound when they fly. Their broad wings and light bodies made them nearly silent fliers, which meant they could stalk prey more easily.

She had also told him that the flattened facial disk of an owl funneled sounds to the bird’s ears and magnified it as much as ten times to help the owl hear noises mere humans couldn’t detect. Felicia’s eyes had been wide with the excitement of discovery when she told him what she had learned. In truth, it was as fascinating to him as it was to her. It also made him want to spend more time in the library over the winter so he could learn more. He had ordered many new horse publications, but Felicia’s hunger for information had ignited an answering passion in him to learn about more than just horses.

Robert smiled as he peered at the sky. For the first time in his life he felt settled and truly content. Carrie’s decision to stay on the plantation that winter had solidified that for him. When she went back to school, he would support her, but he also intended to savor every moment they had together.

A thought crept in that brought a frown to his face. Being with Amber, Felicia, John and Hope had given him a hunger to have children of his own. The war had kept him from thinking about it, and then the pressures of starting the breeding program had kept him preoccupied, but now that things had settled down, he spent a lot of time imagining what having children would be like. He and Carrie had never talked about it, other than a conversation early in their relationship that revealed both of them wanted to have children one day. His frown deepened as he thought about the reality that
one day
kept being pushed back by circumstances. It would have been folly to have children during the war, in spite of the fact that many soldiers had done just that, but now there were new things to delay the
one day
. He was beyond thrilled that Carrie had decided to stay on the plantation, but her delay in becoming a doctor would surely postpone any plans for children.

He continued to peer into the sky. He knew it was silly to expect to find an answer there, but still he could hope. He thought about Felicia’s explanation of a shooting star. He had seen many of them growing up, but knowing what he was looking at now made them seem almost more mystical, not less. His neck was getting stiff from gazing at the sky, but he remembered Felicia saying the Leonid Shower on November thirteenth would be bracketed by more meteors than usual on the days surrounding it. It was still four days away, but… His eyes widened as a bright gleam shot across the sky, followed almost immediately by another one, and then another, before the stars went back to their random twinkling.

Robert took a deep breath. He had asked for a sign, but he had not defined what it would mean. Was it too late to do that? After a moment’s thought he decided the wonder of seeing three shooting stars almost simultaneously meant he could determine what the sign meant. “I will be a father,” he murmured into the glittering sky. “
I will be a father
.”

Carrie had watched the sky anxiously all day. The morning had started out with thick gray clouds pillowing across the sky. As excited as she was for the first snowfall, this was not the day for it. The cumulus mass had cleared away under a weak, cold sun, but the afternoon winds had blown more in.

Felicia walked out on the porch and joined her on the edge to peer upward. “It just can’t be cloudy tonight,” she cried. “It just can’t.”

“It won’t be,” Carrie said firmly. “We are going to see the Leonid Shower.  It’s your birthday present, honey.”

Felicia peered at her with cautious hope. “And just how do you know that?”

Carrie smiled. “There is more than one way of knowing something my young scientist friend.”

Felicia looked at her appraisingly. “You mean like magic?” Her voice was thick with disappointment.

Carrie laughed. “You don’t believe in magic?”

Felicia shrugged. “I don’t know enough to deny that it may have a place somewhere in the world,” she admitted, “but I don’t believe magic will make the clouds go away.”

“I see,” Carrie murmured as she continued to watch the sky.

“So what makes you so sure the skies will clear tonight?” Felicia demanded again. “Everyone will be here as soon as it gets dark. That’s not so far away.” Her voice held a hint of panic.

Carrie knew how important this night was to the little girl. If it hadn’t been, she would have stayed in Philadelphia a few extra days. As it was, she and Abby had worked with other women in the city to send close to five hundred warm coats and pairs of gloves to the children of Moyamensing. Michael took a wagon down the day Carrie had left. She would have loved to see the expressions on the faces of the children, but it was enough to know they would be warm this winter. Abby had chosen to remain in the city a few extra days so she could send another wagon, but Carrie’s promise to Felicia had brought her home.

Carrie smiled. “You spend so much time studying the night sky, Felicia, that you haven’t learned how to read the daytime sky.”

“Huh?” Felicia was clearly confused. “What’s to study? There is a sun.”

Carrie chuckled as she took Felicia’s chin and turned it so she could look toward the east. “What do you see?”

“Clouds,” Felicia said morosely.

“Beyond the clouds,” Carrie prompted.

Felicia stopped fixating on the clouds and trained her eyes on the farther horizon. “I see a patch of blue.”

“Right. Now, what way is the wind blowing?”

Felicia frowned, but answered. “From the east.”

“So what is the wind blowing toward us?” Carrie watched as Felicia’s frown melted away into a hopeful look.

“The blue patch,” she whispered as understanding dawned on her face. “The wind is blowing clear skies toward us.” Then another frown puckered her brows. “How do you know the clear skies will get to us in time?”

“Ah…” Carrie started. “That’s where the magic comes in for one eleven-year-old birthday girl who dreams of seeing the Leonid Shower more than anything else.”

Felicia’s face fell. “So you don’t really know?”

Carrie reached down and lifted her chin so their eyes could meet. “I told you there was more than one way of knowing,” she reminded her. “Trust me. Your skies will be clear tonight.”

Felicia still looked doubtful, but she nodded her head. “If you say so,” she said, her eyes fixed on the clear band of sky that seemed so achingly far away.

“I tell you what,” Carrie said. “Let’s go in and help Annie in the kitchen. Staring at the sky isn’t going to make the clouds disappear any faster.”

“Is it like watching a pot will keep it from boiling?”

“Well, from a scientific perspective, that is not really true,” Carrie observed. “Given enough time, a pot will boil whether you are watching it or not.” She reached down and grabbed Felicia’s hand. “Come on. Even a scientist likes sugar cookies.”

Felicia’s frown disappeared immediately. “
Sugar
cookies? I thought Annie was making just oatmeal cookies.”

“That’s just what she told you,” Carrie whispered, glad she had found a way to erase the troubled worry from Felicia’s eyes. “It’s supposed to be a birthday surprise. I’m going to
forget
that I’m not supposed to take you into the kitchen. Make sure you look
very
surprised.”

“Okay,” Felicia whispered back as she hurried into the house.

Carrie drew a sigh of relief and followed her, praying the wind would blow all the clouds away before the meteor shower was supposed to begin.

Felicia edged up to Carrie as everyone arrived laden with armfuls of quilts and looking like they were wearing everything they owned. “You were right, Carrie!”

Carrie smiled up at the sparkling clear sky, breathing a sigh of relief that the wind had blown the clouds away in time. She had seen another band of clouds tucked far away on the horizon just as the sun was setting, but since the breeze had died down completely, they should still be far away. She was praying they would stay away long enough for everyone to experience the historic event that was about to happen.

Felicia darted away to welcome everyone. It looked like every student in the school had come, almost all of them accompanied by both parents. Evidently, the picture the children had painted for their parents of what they had learned from Felicia was enticing enough to make them leave their warm fires on a bitterly cold night.

Thirty minutes later, when everyone was settled on top of a thick mattress of quilts, with more quilts wrapped snugly around their bodies, Felicia stepped up to stand in the middle of the circle that had been created. She had mandated no fires be built because she wanted nothing to mar the brightness of the meteor shower. The darkness was almost complete, but there was just enough light from the stars and the half-moon hanging above the treetops to outline her lithe body.