A Secret Refuge [02] Sisters of the Confederacy (8 page)

She shook her head. “No, suh, mah daddy tan mah hide if I sells them so cheap.”

“A hundred twenty-five.”

Another shake of her head. “Hundred fifty. In gold.”

“I can’t go that high. Hundred forty, and that’s my last offer, unless you’ll take a hundred sixty a head, in paper?”

Jesselynn didn’t have to debate on that. “Gold.”

“In gold it is.” He turned to the young man standing just inside the door. “Jones, go out and check to make sure these animals are sound.”

“I wouldn’t bring you a lame horse.”

“Others have tried.” He pulled out a drawer, drew out a bag that clanked when he set it on the desk top, and began filling out a requisition form. “Name?”

She gave him the information he asked for—and nothing extra.

“Can you read or write?”

“Yes, suh.”

“Good, then sign here.”

Jesselynn read quickly through the form and signed her name at the bottom. Jones reentered the room as she finished.

“A bit on the thin side, sir, but no limping, no obvious problems.”

“Good. Because if I find out one isn’t sound . . .” He let a silence stretch. “Why, then we come after the seller.”

“Yes, suh.” Oh, how she ached to tell him what to do with his gold, but they needed it too badly. Those three horses were the fare for their journey west and feed for both man and beast in the cave. While the officer didn’t look as if he’d ever missed a meal, she now knew what real hunger felt like.

She counted carefully along with him as he set the gold out in stacks of fives. Eight stacks plus two, four hundred and twenty dollars. At least he didn’t try to short her. She hadn’t seen so much money at one time in far too long.

“If you
find
any more horses loose in the woods, come see me again. You drive a hard bargain, young man. Your daddy should be proud of you.”

“Thank you, suh.” She took the two leather pouches of gold, wishing she had brought the saddlebags up to hold it.

“Sure you wouldn’t just as soon have some of that in paper?”

“No, suh.”

Outside at the horses, she handed Meshach one of the bags and put the other in her saddlebag, at the same time looking around to see if anyone was watching them. People had been killed for a lot less than what they now carried.

Stopping at the store, they bought two sacks of oats, coffee, sugar, peppermint sticks, and a dozen eggs to go along with the bacon.

“We’ll have to come back with the wagon for the rest we need.”

“Be glad to deliver if you’d like.” Mr. Dummont gave her the change from one ten-dollar gold piece.

“Thanks, but I need to visit Aunt Agatha.” She handed him another gold piece. “Hold this for her account.”

“I’ll do that.”

“We might have to walk partway, with all this load.” She swung atop Chess, and they headed for Aunt Agatha’s house, twin sacks of coffee and tea, along with cheese and other frivolities she knew were needed. Sharing the bounty was half the fun. “Meshach, do you want to give the Quakers one of these gold pieces, or maybe two?”

“Dat be right good of you.” His smile made the snow glitter dim.

She planned on giving each of the men a gold piece but not right now. If someone stopped them and they had a ten-dollar gold piece, they’d be thrown in jail for robbery or worse. When they put the horses in the shed at Aunt Agatha’s, she gave Meshach two coins.

The first thing she noticed was that no smoke rose from the chimney. Had Agatha run out of wood? No, the stack by the back door attested to that. Where could she be? After a perfunctory knock, she and Meshach entered a room nearly as cold as the outside.

“Aunt Agatha!” Calling her name, they searched every room. No one there, alive or dead. Where could she be now?

Richmond, Virginia

“I’m coming. I’m coming.”

“I gets it, Miss Louisa.” Abby came trotting from the kitchen.

Louisa jumped the last step of the walnut stairs and crossed to the front door. “Thanks, but I’m right here.” Who could be calling at this time of the morning? Swinging the door open, she broke into a delighted grin. “Why, Carrie Mae, you don’t have to ring the bell. You used to live here.”

“I know, but Jefferson likes me to be proper, so I’m practicin’ every chance I get.” The two sisters exchanged hugs and entered the parlor arm in arm. While Carrie Mae was the youngest of the three sisters, she looked older due to her deep green velvet traveling suit, including her hat with a matching feather that swept over one shoulder.

“Don’t you look lovely.” Louisa ignored a slight twinge of jealousy and stepped back to admire her sister’s outfit. “Jefferson must be doing well.”

“Oh, he is the best husband.” Carrie Mae clasped her gloved hands to her bosom. “He works so hard but never is too tired to attend a rout or dinner or even a ball. I wish you would come with us sometime.” She leaned forward with a wide smile. “Why, we were even invited to Mary Chestnut’s for tea. Such stimulatin’ conversation.”

Louisa smiled and patted her sister’s shoulder. “You know things like that have never been my style.”
Let alone I have no gowns to wear to formal do’s, no shoes, nor . . .
She left off the self-pity and guided her sister to a chair. “Now, which would you like—tea or coffee?”

“Oh, tea, thank you. Where’s Aunt Sylvania?”

“Gone to church to help the ladies.” Louisa hurried down the hall to the kitchen to order refreshments. On the way, she glanced in a mirror and made a face. Her hair needed pinning up, and she wore one of her older house dresses. Forcing men to move limbs that had near frozen in place didn’t take a fashion plate. “Could you make tea, please, Abby, and I do hope there are some of your good molasses cookies left.” She’d used them as bribes for the men.

“I fixes somethin’. Lawsy sakes, she sure do look purty.”

“That she does. I wonder if she and Jefferson”—Louisa put a twist on her brother-in-law’s name—“would take one of our wounded soldiers into their home?” She knew the question was catty. Jefferson believed he was doing his part for the South by helping in the legislature, and he demanded that his wife look and act the part of a successful lawyer’s wife.

Carrie Mae had always loved dressing up.

Hurrying back down the hall, Louisa remembered the letter. “Oh, sister, I have a wonderful surprise for you. Be right back.”

“What is it?”

Louisa ignored the question and dashed up the stairs to her room. The letter from Jesselynn lay in her writing case, along with a partially written answer. Letter in hand, she danced down the stairs again, waving the envelope gaily.

“A letter? From whom?” Light dawned. “From Jesselynn. Oh, don’t tease me. Read it, or better yet, let me read it myself.”

Louisa handed her the envelope and took her own chair, the better to watch her sister’s expressive face. Just as they had for each one she’d read the letter to, tears sprang instantly to her sister’s eyes.

“Oh no. I had no idea things were so bad. I . . . I guess I thought they were safe in town or something.” She returned to her reading. “Ah, and I have so much. Louisa, I feel guilty for . . . for . . .”

“For being safe and warm and . . .”

“And our Christmas was wonderful. Jefferson’s family spoiled me rotten.” She laid the letter in her lap. “Is there nothin’ we can do?”

“Pray for her. Oh, Carrie Mae, we must pray for the things she needs but more so for the rescue of her soul.”

“God will never let her go.”

“I know.” But Louisa also knew of soldiers who died cursing the Lord they had worshiped as boys.

Carrie Mae put the letter back in the envelope. “I will write to her tonight.” She thought a moment. “No, we have a dinner to attend tonight. But I will pray for her, and I will write tomorrow. Where do we send the letter?”

“To the post office in Springfield. She got our other letters there.”

During the silence, Louisa glanced around the room. The pallets for two of their recovering men lay stacked against one wall. Their extra clothing was folded in a neat pile on a chair. A pipe and tobacco pouch resided on a whatnot table. While the men were very neat, still there was always what could be called clutter around.

There had been no clutter at Carrie Mae’s home, a flat downtown near the courthouse.

“I see you still have your soldiers here.” Carrie Mae pulled off her gloves and laid them in her reticule.

“Yes, as soon as one is ready to go home, we’d have two to take his place, had we room for them. One thing we don’t lack is wounded soldiers.” Did she dare to tell her of the idea that had been brewing since she saw the general at the hospital?

She didn’t. “So tell me the news.”

Carrie Mae studied her hands clasped in her lap, then looked up to send her sister a smile of pure joy. “The best news of all, short of the war ending, is that I am in the family way.”

“Oh, how wonderful.” Louisa fell to her knees at her sister’s side, taking her hands. “That truly is the most marvelous news. When will the baby be born?”

“August, near as we can figure.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No. Whatever for? I’ve been askin’ some of the other wives about a midwife, though. I always thought when I had a baby, Mama and Lucinda would be there to care for me. And Daddy would be walkin’ the floor with my husband.”

“Most likely passing the whiskey and telling tall tales in Daddy’s office.” Louisa sat back on her heels. “Are you feeling all right?”

“So far. Just some queasiness in the mornin’.” Carrie Mae took Louisa’s hands in hers and rubbed the backs with her thumbs. “Ah, Louisa, I want Jesselynn here. I want to tell her my good news, and the three of us can sew baby things together. She would knit me a sweater. You know her knitting is so much better than mine.”

“And a hat and booties. Soakers and a little dress so cunning . . .” Louisa fought the lump that clogged her throat and caused her eyes to burn. She sniffed and blinked. “There could be a miracle, you know, and the war end so she can come home.”

“But her last letter said they are headin’ west.” Carrie Mae shook her head slowly, as though hope had died. “We’re never goin’ to see them again. I just know it.” Tears trembled on her lashes; then one meandered down her cheek. “Some days I miss Mama so bad I could just . . .”

They sniffed together, and Louisa pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket. She dried her sister’s eyes before wiping her own.

“But we go on.”

Carrie Mae looked deep into her sister’s eyes, as if searching for something. Louisa knew not what. Carrie Mae clenched her lower lip between her teeth. A whisper came, faint and drenched in fear. “Mama died in childbirth.”

“Oh, baby sister.” Louisa gathered Carrie Mae into her arms. “You are young and strong and healthy, just right for child bearing. You will do real fine, and then we’ll have a baby to fuss over.”

“A baby?” Abby set the tea tray down with a rattle. “You gonna have a baby, Miss Carrie Mae?” Her face shone with joy.

Carrie Mae nodded, dashed an errant tear away, and smiled with trembling lips.

“Oh, lawsy me. We gonna have a baby. I better gits to hemmin’ diapers. We ain’t had no baby in dis family in too many years. Wait till Miss Sylvania hears dis. She be over de moon wi’ joy.” Abby left the room, chuckling as she went.

“Have you written to Jesselynn yet?”

“No, I wanted to tell you first.” She accepted the cup of tea Louisa poured. “Jefferson said we must look for a house now. Our flat is too small for a baby and a mammy. Wouldn’t Lucinda love to mother another Highwood baby?”

“That she would.” Louisa nibbled a cookie after dunking it in her tea.

“You think she would come if I sent for her?”

Louisa stopped chewing. “Why, Carrie Mae Steadly, that is the most wonderful idea anyone has had in ages. Of course, you might have to send someone for her. Can you think of her taking the train here all by herself?”

“I wish Aunt Sylvania would get home.”

“Not till late afternoon. She takes her lunch with her, and they work most of the day.” Louisa stopped and let the thoughts flow. “Oh, I have the best idea.”

“What?” Carrie Mae leaned forward. “Tell me.”

“Well, it has nothin’ to do with you, but what if I taught my wounded soldiers to knit and sew? They could help with the war effort that way and would most likely feel like they are doing something useful.”

“Men sewing and knitting. Louisa Highwood, have you lost your mind?”

“Wait till Zachary hears
this
idea.” The words made her chuckle.
Along with the other one. Things are likely to get pretty lively around here
.

Springfield, Missouri

“I can’t leave without knowing where she is!”

“Need be home before dark.”

“Meshach, I know that!” She felt like screaming. What could have happened to Agatha? Somewhere from the far reaches of her memory, she heard her father saying,
“That aggravating Agatha, I swain . . .”
Jesselynn now understood why. Couldn’t she have at least left a note?

“The post office!” Jesselynn spun on her heel and darted out the door, Meshach right behind her. Sure enough, there was a letter addressed to Master Jesse Highwood from Mrs. Hiram Highwood. Jesselynn tore it open and read swiftly. “She’s taken a position with an elderly couple over on Sunshine Street.” She looked back to the postmaster. “Could you please tell me where that is?”

He gave her directions, and they left as fast as they’d come.

She literally threw herself off the horse and ran up the walk to a house in much better shape than the one Agatha previously had been in. At least the roof appeared to be in one piece. This area of town didn’t seem to have suffered any damage from the battle. Again a two-story house, this one painted white with green shutters. Three shallow steps led up to a porch with heavy pillars that stretched across the entire front of the house.

Jesselynn knocked on the carved oak door with an oval glass center.

Aunt Agatha parted the lace curtain and, peering out, smiled and opened the door. “I knew you would find me.” She hugged her niece and patted her shoulder. “When the Reverend said these old folks needed some help, why, I knew it was an answer to prayer. Since none of the things in that house of Lettie’s were my own, I just packed my bag and came right on over. I was goin’ to sell all the food in the basement to Mr. Dummont, but I knew you could use some of it and perhaps would bring some over here for us, as well.”

Jesselynn had never heard her aunt run on so. But then she hadn’t known her all that long either.

“Would you like to meet the dears?” Agatha took her arm and pulled her toward the kitchen.

“No, I think not, not today. We have to get on home. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You’ve even been haunting my dreams in that drafty, old falling-down house.”

“Are you sure? You can’t stay even for a cup of tea?”

Jesselynn nodded and extricated herself from her aunt’s grasp. She patted the liver-spotted hand. “Do you have any money of your own with you?”

Agatha pulled herself upright and managed somehow to look down her nose at her niece, who was a good four inches taller than she.

“Now, don’t go gettin’ all het up. We’re family, and I feel responsible. I sold some horses today. . . .”

“Not the Thoroughbreds?” Agatha gave “aghast” a new meaning.

“No, no. Some we found after a battle in the woods. We healed them up and sold them to the army.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out several silver dollars and a ten-dollar gold piece. “Here, just in case you need it.”

“No. I will not take money from you when I don’t need it.” She stared at the coins on the outstretched palm, picked out two dollars, and closed Jesselynn’s fingers back over the rest. “I know you mean well, dear Jesse . . .” At Jesselynn’s raised eyebrow she cut off the further syllable. “But I am just fine here.”

“All right, but if you need anything, you also have a credit at Dummont’s store. Keep that in mind, and if you need to get ahold of me, well, you did it.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek and opened the door. “Take care now, you hear?”

“That’s just what your daddy always said when he left. Bless his heart. And yours too.”

Jesselynn stepped back out on the porch, so grateful she didn’t have to come in with the wagon and carry her aunt out to the cave that she could have leaped the picket fence.

She filled Meshach in on the news as they rode out of town, both of them keeping an eye out for anyone who might be following them. If the captain suspected they had more horses, he might send someone after them.

“Dat old woman goin’ to come west, you just watch.”

“She’s fine where she is.”
Oh, I hope so. I do not need anyone else to cart along
.

Meshach gave her that wise smile he wore when he was absolutely sure about something. Her mother had sometimes said she felt Meshach had a bit of the prophet in him, that it would most likely come out more as he grew older. There had been times when he had foreseen something, but Jesselynn had pooh-poohed his predictions. The thought of Aunt Agatha in a wagon heading west didn’t bear thinking about.

They circled round and came to the cave from a different direction, even though their earlier tracks led directly to their entrance. Meshach whistled, received an answer, and down the slope they went. The boys ran to greet them when they led the horse and mule into the cave.

“Gone long time.” Thaddeus held his arms high to be picked up. Jesselynn hugged him and settled him in the saddle. Had he been much taller, he wouldn’t have fit; the ceiling was that low. “Good Chess.” He leaned forward and patted the horse’s shoulder.

Jesselynn led him back to the horse corral, as they called it, and swung her brother to the ground so she could unsaddle. “Do you hear that?” She cocked her head as if listening closely.

“What?” Thaddeus looked around.

“That sound?” She pretended to listen again. At the puzzled look he gave her, she said, “That little voice callin’ your name. Hear it? Thaddeus.” She made her voice soft and whispery.

He wrinkled his brow trying so hard to hear.

Jesselynn glanced up to see the big grin on Meshach’s face.

“I hears it.” He leaned close to the saddlebag behind the saddle. “From in dere.”

Thaddeus clapped his hands. “Me see.”

Jesselynn lifted the flap on the leather bag and peered inside. “Sure enough. There he is.”

“Me see!”

Jesselynn reached inside her saddlebag and brought out the sack of peppermint sticks. Instead of just two, she’d bought one for every one of them. “Here. You hand them out.”

Thaddeus did that, his chest swelling enough to pop his buttons if he’d had any. He went to each person around the cave and gravely gave them a red-and-white peppermint candy stick, accepted their thanks, then plunked himself down by the fire to suck on his own. He patted the rock beside him. “Jesse, you sit here.”

“I will.” She pulled out the sack of coffee beans and gave them to Ophelia, who inhaled the fragrance and closed her eyes in delight. The rest of the food things she set down on the bench of lashed branches Meshach had made during the days of confinement. “That ought to make things easier for a while.”

Sammy, candy stick in mouth, sat down beside Thaddeus and held out his candy in a sandy fist. “Good.”

Jesselynn debated where to store the gold coins. She was not concerned that one of her people would steal them, but she wanted them safe in case they were attacked. And so they didn’t get scattered. The storage boxes were too obvious a place. Finally she kept out one coin and rolled the two leather bags containing the rest in a scrap of leftover deerskin, then set the packet under a rock in the horse corral, off to the side above the ground by a foot or so. When satisfied, she showed the hidden place to Meshach in case something happened to her.

The snow melted within a week, setting the creek to frothing fury so that Daniel and Benjamin had to be careful when letting the horses drink. No longer could they stand in the shallows and drink contentedly. The bank sometimes gave way, and all they needed was for one of the mares to be injured.

Jesselynn checked them daily as their bags swelled and their bellies sagged. “Make sure you hold them tight so they can’t take off somewhere to drop those foals,” she admonished the men. Benjamin, who’d worked with the horses since he was a small child, gave her a wide, slow smile.

“Yes, Marse.”

Jesselynn rolled her eyes and laughed. “Sorry. But we can’t afford to lose a baby. Those two are the foundation for the herd after the war. If only we could do something about foaling stalls. We have to separate the mares out. Ahab could get feisty and hurt one of them.”

“If we need stalls, we make stalls.” Meshach beckoned to the two younger men. “Now we cut posts.” Within a week they had sunk posts as far as the floor of the cave permitted and run rails to the walls. While the stalls weren’t airy and roomy like those at Twin Oaks, they would be adequate. Next he chopped down an oak tree and split off withes to make two oaken buckets. When he set Daniel to cutting thin withes for baskets, Ophelia wandered around in a happy daze for hours before she began to weave an oaken basket.

Benjamin bagged two deer, so they stretched the new hides over the doorway and brought the weathered ones in to tan.

The next morning Jesselynn was trying to get ready to leave for town when Jane Ellen asked, “Where’s Sammy?”

“I don’t know.” Jesselynn dropped the harness and glanced around the cave. Since the day had dawned clear, the open door let in some extra light, but not a lot. “Thaddeus, where’s Sammy?”

The little boy looked up from his building sticks. “Don’t know.”

Ophelia ran to the mouth of the cave. “Sammy! You get on in here.”

Jesselynn joined her, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Sammy!” She called his name twice and shook her head. “Surely he didn’t toddle off. He wouldn’t leave Thaddeus.”

“Then where he be?” Ophelia dashed away the tears already forming. “He can’t be gone. Sammy!”

Jesselynn reentered the cave. Could he have crawled back under the covers? She thought for a moment. No. Jane Ellen had gone hunting for wood and leaves by herself this time. Could Sammy have followed her?

“S-a-m-m-y.” Ophelia’s voice sounded fainter.

“Here.”

Jesselynn spun away from the stores and glanced around the dim room. No little black boy. “Sammy?”

“Here.”

“Thaddeus, do you see Sammy?”

Thaddeus looked up from his building and glanced around the area. “Over there.” He went back to building his cabin.

Jesselynn swallowed. He’d pointed to the horses. She bent down, and her heart took an extra beat. There sat Sammy under Dulcie.

“Sammy, don’t move. Just stay right where you are. Thaddeus, go call Ophelia. Now.” She eased her way over to the horses. “Thank God, he’s not under Roman,” she whispered. “Easy, girl, now don’t get restless here.” She laid a hand on the mare’s shoulder. Sunshine shifted, turning to see if Jesselynn had the feed bucket with her. She bumped Dulcie, and the mare laid her ears back.

“Easy.”
One kick and he could be dead. God, hold the animals steady, please
. With one hand on the mare’s halter, she reached under with the other and grabbed Sammy’s arm. He let out a howl, Dulcie backed up, and Jesselynn had the little boy tucked under her arm. “Sammy, I could paddle your behind till you won’t sit down for a week.” She slipped under the bar holding the horses back and plunked him down on the rock by the fire. “You know better than to go in with the horses. Shame on you!” The finger she shook in his tear-streaming face moved of its own accord. Her heart had yet to settle to a regular rhythm.

Ophelia ran in and snatched the baby up in her arms, raining kisses on his cheeks and hair.

“He needs a switchin’ so’s he won’t do that again.”

“Yes, suh, Marse Jesse, I do dat.” She turned the little one end for end and walloped him three times. Sammy screamed, Ophelia sobbed, and Thaddeus came running in.

“No, don’t hit Sammy. No.” He grabbed around Ophelia’s leg and hung on. Sammy clung around her neck.

Jesselynn headed for the cave entrance. If she stayed she might laugh at the scene going on. Leave it to Thaddeus to protect his friend. But if she laughed, she might start crying, and if she did that, she might never stop. Once she’d walked off some of the fear and anger, she remembered what she’d done.
So I prayed. That was only in an emergency, mind you. I don’t want anything to do with a God who allows war and guerrilla bands and slave traders and little boys almost getting stomped, and . . .
She sniffed back the tears.
So I’m sorry I said anythin’. I won’t do it again, you hear?
She propped herself against a rock, thanks to knees that felt ready to give way, and sighed, the kind of sigh that takes the starch out of shoulders and neck and belly. “But thank you anyway.”

Sammy still sniffed occasionally when she returned to the cave. Thaddeus glared at her.

“Thank you for savin’ the little scamp.” Ophelia had a three-foot rawhide string tied around Sammy’s wrist and her ankle. “He don’ go nowhere now.”

“Good idea. At least until Jane Ellen comes back. I’m taking the wagon to town to clear out Agatha’s cellar. Think on what you need while I harness the team.”
Where I’ll store it all, I have no idea, but I know we’ll use it
.