A Promise for Tomorrow (2 page)
—H
ENRY
W
ADSWORTH
L
ONGFELLOW
James Baldwin ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed. It was almost impossible to concentrate on the words of his father. Leland Baldwin had made a most unexpected visit to the St. John house in Baltimore, where James and Carolina chose to reside after their marriage six months earlier. James was anxious lest his father would still be on the premises when Carolina returned. That could prove disastrous. It wasn’t that Carolina wouldn’t at least feign hospitality and civility; it was that she held Leland in absolute contempt for his swindling of her father, Joseph Adams.
“It’s not that I wanted things to be this way,” Leland said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The rotund man rubbed his chest, a seemingly nervous habit of late, and waited for James to respond.
“I just wish you’d have come to me at the first,” James finally said. “You have no idea how difficult it will be to make matters right again. There’s not only this venture with Joseph and Carolina and the Potomac and Great Falls Railroad but also the land deals you’ve made in the West. What of those? The false deeds you’ve sold to unknowing people—people with dreams of settling in a new land and of owning their own property. Add to that the other paper railroads you’ve proposed to build. Railroads that only exist in the dreams and minds of hopeful men because you never planned to see them become reality. There are hundreds of investors, many of whom I’ll probably never be able to locate, much less reimburse.”
“I still see no reason to go to that much trouble. It’s enough that I’ve ceased to participate in such affairs, is it not? Even though I’ve had nothing but disdain from your uncle Samuel. He thinks me an absolute addlepated ninny for worrying about such things. Then, too, I’ve nearly depleted all of my own resources.”
“But, Father, you can’t allow this to continue, and well you know it,” James replied, then nervously rose from his seat and paced to the window that looked down on the front lawn.
“Looking for Carolina, are you?” Leland questioned. “I suppose she’d have a spell to know I’m here in her house.”
James cringed inwardly at the words “her house.” It had seemed a logical choice to stay on in the house of Carolina’s deceased husband, Blake St. John. After all, Blake’s daughter, Victoria, had grown up in this house, and her comfort was of great concern to James now that he was her stepfather. Carolina had suggested the temporary arrangement, reminding James that there was much to face and deal with as a new family, and that by staying on in the St. John house, they would at least avoid the complications of finding a new house, packing up the old, and making the actual move. James had agreed, seeing the sensibility in it from a standpoint of finances and time. But now, as had happened on many occasions, to hear his home referred to as “her house” left him with a strong desire to move and let the consequences be hanged.
“Carolina has a difficult time accepting what has happened,” James admitted. He pulled back the edge of the damask drapery and studied the roadway some twenty yards away. “She feels perhaps an even deeper sense of betrayal than do I,” he added and dropped his hold on the curtain. “You have to understand, Carolina is very close to her father. For you to have swindled her is one thing. But that you would endanger her father’s good name—well, that is entirely different.”
Leland’s face reddened slightly. “She’s too smart for her own good. You’re going to have a constant battle with that one.” He coughed and the gasping breath he drew sounded strained. “Your mother, God rest her soul, was the epitome of a proper, godly wife. My Edith could go into public and hold her head high knowing that she was a respectable, well-thought-of soul.”
James felt weary under the strain of emotions. He sorely missed his mother, who had passed away nearly four weeks earlier. The memories of her love and kindness were all that James had to take with him through the days. He mourned her passing, but even more, he mourned the wasted time. And that was another reason he was desperate to put the past behind him and have his father’s affairs resolved. He blamed himself for the despair his father must have felt to have given in to the heartless activity of swindling friends. He blamed himself for not realizing the pressures under which his father had been placed. First there had been the sale of his mother’s family plantation. It had seemed reasonable at the time. After all, James’ father wasn’t a planter. Edith had inherited the place upon her father’s death, primarily because there was no son to inherit it. She was the eldest of three girls, and therefore the plantation passed to her, with minor inheritances for her sisters. Already married with a child on the way, Edith had been proud when Leland had taken on her ancestral home in the hopes of becoming a farmer. But it wasn’t to be. And without ever allowing her to realize the desperation that was slowly but surely befalling the place, Leland finally convinced Edith to let him sell the plantation and move to Washington, D.C. Now so many years later, Leland was once again having to sell off his possessions in order to account for his messes.
James felt sorry for his father. Sorry for the loss of control and respect that had befallen him. Sorry that he had never once felt confident enough to come to James with the truth of the matter. Oh, there had been that talk which had forced James to agree to seriously seek a wife, but even that had fallen far short of truth and honesty. Leland had spoken of a strain on the family coffers, but James hadn’t realized the full degree of his father’s circumstance. He had assumed that the real reason for his parents’ pushing him into marriage was their concern for his own future and reputation. He knew his mother longed for grandchildren, and his father longed for a more elevated position in the social circles of Washington City. If James were to marry prominently, it would easily boost his family to even higher levels of acceptance.
Instead, James had ignored his father’s demand to wed and had chosen his own path. A path he now found particular reason to regret. No, if James had only realized the desperation that had led his father down a path of poor choices, he might have helped. He might have been able to talk him out of his dirty dealings and actually find a way to alleviate the financial strain.
“Still, she wouldn’t have been my choice for you, given her questionable reputation. After all, there was that awkward business with her sister’s husband.”
James startled back into the reality of the moment as he realized his father was speaking of Carolina. “You will not speak of my wife in that manner. She has never been anything but honorable, and I’ll not allow anyone, even you, to speak ill of her.”
“She started all of this, did she not? She’s the one who made you suspicious and—”
“I’m glad she did,” James said rather sternly. “You act as though this were some childhood lark. Some innocent prank. You could go to prison if she so much as opens her mouth to accuse you publicly. If the investors were to find out that you’ve swindled them out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, do you suppose they’d care very much that an overly educated young woman rang the alarm on such a fire? I think not.” James watched as his father’s face reddened even more. “What’s more, if it weren’t for the money left her by her dead husband, we’d never be so far along in quelling the concerns raised by other investors. So please don’t sit there and insult her intelligence or character. The shame is not hers.”
“I’m not proud of what I’ve done,” Leland admitted softly. “I wish it could have been different. But I can’t go back and undo the past.”
“By paying back the investors and canceling out your contracts with them, you’ve made a good start. Mother’s death seems a logical way to explain your inability to carry through on your word. Most people have been very understanding, even sympathetic. They realize that railroads take time, so the fact that you’ve been unable to proceed on your promises of new lines isn’t all that startling. I only pray that the land swindles don’t come back to haunt you. Those westward-bound folk who’ve bought up the land deeds you’ve offered will sooner or later find themselves the owners of nothing more than the paper they hold in their hands. When that happens, they will come looking for satisfaction.”
“Very doubtful,” Leland said, then rubbed his chest again. “It isn’t easy, even in this day and age, to cross the mountains and go west. The trip takes weeks at best and oftentimes months. There won’t be any real rush to spend additional time and money to come back east and hunt up a fictitious brokerage house, all in order to get their money back. No, they’ll stay on, kick themselves for their stupidity in trusting a stranger, then pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and . . . and . . .” He gasped for air, and the look on his face left James little doubt that something was wrong.
“What is it, Father?” He moved quickly to Leland’s side.
“Can’t . . . seem . . . to . . . breathe,” Leland said, groaning in pain and pulling desperately at his silk necktie.
“Here, let me,” James said, pushing his father’s fleshy fingers aside. He carefully loosened the tie and unbuttoned the stiffly starched collar that seemed to hold his father’s thick neck captive. “Is that better?”
His father moaned and shook his head. “You’d best fetch the doctor, son.”
James looked dumb struck for a moment. “Of course,” he finally answered, realizing for the first time the severity of the situation. “Mrs. Graves!” he called for the housekeeper, rushing for the door. He threw it open and called again. “Mrs. Graves, send for the doctor at once!”
It was sometime later, as James sat in the downstairs drawing room with Carolina, that the doctor appeared in the doorway. His grave expression might have been enough to set the stage for the explanation to come, but James tried not to give in to his fear. He told himself that any physician of merit would take a serious approach to the condition of his patient.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your father has had a severe heart seizure,” the gray-headed man said, taking a moment to remove his eyeglasses from the bridge of his nose. As he wiped the pince-nez carefully, he continued. “I wish I could afford you better news, but in truth I don’t believe your father will live long.”
“What can we do?” James asked, suddenly feeling like a helpless child.
The doctor shook his head. “He must be confined to his bed and allowed to do as little as possible for himself. I understand he is only here visiting, but I believe it would be far too traumatic for him to be removed from this place at present. Besides, it would be better that he remain in the home of loved ones and die in their bosom than to expire in the care of strangers.”
James caught Carolina’s stricken expression before she was able to lower her face to cover her reaction. He wanted to say something of comfort to her, but there would be time to smooth things over with her at a later time. Now there was much to be discussed with the doctor.
“Should we hire someone to care for him?” James asked the doctor. “Someone trained to deal with these kinds of things?”
“If that is your wish. I suppose a nurse of some sort would allow you a bit more freedom. Your father cannot be allowed out of bed, not that he would have the strength to do such a thing. His every need will have to be attended to by someone, so perhaps for the more delicate matters of personal necessities and such, I would suggest an additional caregiver.”
“Can you recommend someone?” James asked, deeply concerned that he would somehow fail his father once again should he be unable to secure the very best of care for him.
“I’ll send someone around,” the doctor replied. “I wish I could say that I foresee a recovery, but the truth is your father is going to die.”
James swallowed hard and nodded. “How soon?”
“Days. Maybe weeks or even months. We just don’t know about these things. Part of it will depend on his will to live.”
“Then he might find the strength to recover?”
“I don’t foresee that,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “However, if his care is of good quality, and the love of his family keeps him from despair, he might well linger for a short time. However, his discomfort will be great. His breathing will remain quite labored, and his body will slowly continue to weaken. I can’t stop that fact. There is simply nothing in my earthly ability to keep your father alive. He’s in God’s hands now.”
“Does he . . . well, that is . . . does he know the severity of his case?” James asked hesitantly.
The doctor put away his glasses and nodded. “He asked me to speak truthfully and I did. I told him that he had only a short time, and he seemed to accept it quite well.”
“My mother died only four weeks ago,” James admitted. “He’s not been the same without her.”
“So he said. You may send someone for me should his pain increase. I’ve left some laudanum with your housekeeper and have given her strict instructions for the dispensing of the medicine. Other than this, just make him as comfortable as possible.”
James walked with the man to the door. “Thank you again for coming so quickly.”
When the doctor had gone, James returned to the drawing room to find Carolina still stunned by the news that not only was her father-in-law in residence but he would remain and eventually die there.
“I’m so sorry about all of this,” he began, moving across the room to take a seat beside her. Burying his face in his hands, James longed to say something that would dispel the anguish he felt inside. “This is all my fault,” he said, his voice steeped in melancholia. “I drove him too hard. I knew he was unwell. You could tell just by looking at him.”
“This isn’t your fault, James,” Carolina replied sympathetically. “Your father’s health was not something you had the power to dictate.”
He looked up and found her warm brown eyes considering him. How could he possibly hope she might comprehend his guilt? “You don’t understand. All of this might have been avoided. He stopped by to talk to me about my uncle, and I brought up the affair of their illegal actions. I shouldn’t have upset him that way. Not with Mother just a month in her grave.”