Secret of Richmond Manor (14 page)

“Jeff! I know you are friends with Leah Carter, but there's something going on. There's something
funny
going on.”

At once Jeff grew wary.
Uh-oh
, he thought,
I hope she hasn't found out about that Union prisoner
. “What is it, Lucy?” he asked quickly.

“Well, earlier today I found Rufus in town. He had a letter he was supposed to deliver to your father.”

“Yes, I got it. What about it?”

“Well, I offered to carry the letter, and when Rufus gave it to me to take out to camp, he told me he saw Leah and a strange man in a wagon headed out of Richmond. Rufus knows everybody in this county. All he does is gossip and watch people. He said he never saw the man before, and I think he was one of those Yankee prisoners that escaped from Libby.”

“Oh, that's not right,” Jeff protested. “Those prisoners would be hiding out in the woods. They wouldn't get right out in the open.”

“Maybe they would, if they had somebody to help them escape. And then that letter! I don't understand all of it, but something's going on.” She gave Jeff a curious glance and said, “What about those girls? She and her sister were suspected of being spies. Captain Lyons told me so.”

“Wesley Lyons?”

“Yes!” Lucy grew excited. “I just
know
she's a spy, Jeff, so I read the letter and took it to Captain Lyons, and he said he was going to do something about it.”

“You shouldn't have done that, Lucy!” Jeff exclaimed.

The girl stared at him. “Why not? If she's a spy, she needs to be caught and put in prison. Isn't that right?”

Jeff wanted to protest, but he suddenly knew he had to play a part. “Why … sure, I guess that's right. I just wasn't thinking, Lucy.” He sat there talking, but his mind was racing ahead. As soon as he
could, he touched his cap and said, “Well, I've got to get back to camp. Orders you know.”

“Come and see me as soon as you can,” Lucy said. “We can work on this, Jeff. Together. Wouldn't it be exciting if we caught a spy!”

“It sure would. Well, I'll see you later, Lucy.”

Jeff made himself amble away, but as soon as he was out of sight of the girl, he ran halfway back to camp.

He found his father and gasped, “Pa, Leah's in some kind of trouble. I've got to go help her!”

“Can you tell me about it, son?”

Jeff hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, sir, I think you better know.” Quickly he sketched what had gone on, and he saw his father's brow furrow. He ended by saying, “What I think is, Leah's taking that soldier back through the lines in that wagon. Somehow she thinks she can get him away.”

“Well, what can you do, son?”

“Her letter said they're going to be at Seven Point Creek tonight. I bet Wesley Lyons will send a troop there. If I can get there before they do, I can warn them.”

Captain Majors thought hard for a moment. “All right. I think this is serious. I'll draw a horse for you from the cavalry supply, a good one. You'll have to be careful, though. Horses are precious these days. Come on.”

An hour later Jeff swung into the saddle and pulled his hat down. “I'll get the horse back safe, Captain. Don't worry.” He spurred the animal, a fine chestnut stallion, and rode off at a gallop.

I'm getting a late start
, he thought as he cantered out of town toward the outer lines. He had a pass signed by his father, so he had no trouble getting by
the sentries. In any case, they would not have stopped a Confederate soldier. He rode hard again and tried to think what he would do if he saw the patrol. “I can't let 'em see me. I've got to get around 'em somehow.”

He rode hard until two o'clock, when he stopped at a farmhouse to get a drink of water and to rest his horse.

“Have you seen any troops moving along the road, ma'am?” He drank gratefully from the gourd dipper, savoring the cold water out of the well. “A Confederate unit?”

“Well, yeah, you just missed them, Private.” The woman had a pair of bright blue eyes, and she smiled as she pointed down the road. “They stopped here about thirty minutes ago. I heard one of them say they was headed for the river.”

“That'd be Seven Point, wouldn't it?”

“That's right. It ain't far. I expect you can catch 'em time they get there. There's a shortcut, if you want to take it.” She quickly described a little used road that cut around the main highway. “You'll come out right on Seven Point. You might even be waiting for them soldier friends of yours.”

“Thanks a lot.”

He got into the saddle and spurred the big chestnut. A quarter of a mile down the road he saw the large oak where the narrow road angled off. He found it to be little more than a trail, barely wide enough for a wagon. The going was rough, but he did not slow his horse.

From time to time, he ducked a branch and once was almost raked out of the saddle by one. It hit him in the face and gashed his right cheek. As he drove the horse on, he felt the blood trickling down
and fumbled for a handkerchief. He wiped the wound as best he could and then paid it no more heed.

The road made several turns, but finally he reached a stream where there was no bridge. “This must be Seven Point,” he said. The trail turned to the left, and he took it, thinking,
This has got to lead to the bridge on the main road
.

His horse was tired and reluctant, but Jeff lifted him into a gallop, saying, “We've
got
to get there before those soldiers!”

T
his sure is nice, ain't it, Leah?”

Leah looked over toward Ezra from where she was frying bacon in a pan. They had camped beside the bridge, knowing it would soon be dark. “Yes, it is,” she said, glancing around. “I thought we'd make better time, but I guess we'll be out of danger tomorrow.”

“That bacon sure smells good. Can I help you with the cooking?”

“No, you made the fire. I'll do the cooking.” She quickly threw a meal together. She had changed clothes and was wearing a brown dress now, and she'd loosed her hair so that it fell down her back. He'd never seen hair like hers.
Almost like spun gold
, he thought.

She expertly fried the bacon, then broke the four eggs that she had brought packed in a jar of sand. “You like yours scrambled or fried?”

“I like 'em any way I can get 'em.” Ezra grinned. He picked up the tin plates, and, when she had fried the eggs carefully, she slipped them onto the plates.

They sat down then, and she handed him some biscuits.

Ezra said, “I seen Christian people ask the blessing. Reckon we could do that here?”

Leah smiled at him. “Of course, we can. Do you want to do it, Ezra?”

The young man looked startled. “Well, I ain't had much practice, but I guess I got to start sometime, don't I?” He bowed his head, as did Leah, and was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “Lord, thank You for these eggs. They sure look good. And You know how I like bacon. I appreciate that too. And especially for these good biscuits Leah has made, Lord. There ain't nobody can make biscuits better than her as You probably know. Anyway, I'm grateful for all these vittles, and I thank You best I know how. Amen.”

Leah echoed, “Amen.” There was a smile on her lips. “That was good, Ezra. I'm proud of you.”

“Well, I'm getting a late start. I aim to do the best I can.”

They ate quickly, and Leah poured some coffee. “This'll be the last of this we'll have,” she said. “I borrowed just a little from what we had. Uncle Silas, he sure loves coffee. I tried to make some out of acorns, but it tasted awful.”

Ezra sipped his coffee cautiously and nodded. “This is good.” Then he leaned back and looked up at the sky, which was growing darker. “Pretty tonight, ain't it?” He looked over at her. “I guess you'll be glad to see your folks back in Kentucky?”

“Oh, yes, I miss them so much, and I'm anxious to see Esther too.”

“Esther? Now who is she?”

“That's Jeff's baby sister. His mother died giving birth to her, so we're keeping her until the war's over.”

Ezra found that interesting. He sat staring into the fire, poking it with a stick. “That's real nice, her being a Confederate baby.”

Leah laughed suddenly.

Her laugh made a delightful sound, he thought
.

“Oh, Ezra, she's not a Confederate. She's not anything except a baby.”

“Why, I guess that's right, ain't it? Babies are just babies.” He pushed his hair back from his forehead. “Be nice if we could stay that way—no Rebels, no Yankees, just people.”

Leah sighed. “It'll be that way one day.”

“What do you reckon you'll do when the war is over?”

“Why, there's not much for a woman to do, is there? I'll get married and have a family.”

Her words caught at Ezra, and he sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Well, whoever gets you, Leah, will get the best there is. You can already cook and take care of a house, and you're the prettiest girl I ever saw. Course, I ain't seen many girls.”

She laughed again. “You sure know how to spoil a compliment. I don't know—” She halted abruptly. “Listen! Someone's coming!”

They stood up, and Ezra turned toward his left. “Rider coming from that way!” He listened. “It's only one—but he's sure coming hard!” He hesitated, then said, “I don't think it'd be anybody looking for us—not just one man.”

The two stood listening as the hoofbeats got louder.

Suddenly a horse appeared from around the bend, the rider bending over him, and Ezra tensed.

“Leah!”

The horseman pulled up, and Leah looked at him. “Jeff!” she cried. “What are
you
doing here?”

“No time for that! The patrol's ten minutes behind me!” He looked over at Ezra. “Payne, you've
got to hide yourself. They've got evidence that Leah's leaving with a escaped Yankee prisoner.”

“They
know
about me?”

“No, they don't know about you, but they know some prisoners have escaped.” He looked at Leah and said, “It was Lucy. She read the note that you sent to me, and Rufus saw you two leaving.”

“I've got to get out of here!” Ezra cried in alarm.

He was about to run, but Jeff said, “Look! Take my horse—ride on down the road a ways. Stay out of sight. When they leave, I'll come and get you.”

“I never rode a horse before.”

“Well, you're about to learn. Here, just put your foot here.” Jeff hoisted the young man into the saddle and handed him the reins. “Just hang onto him. Pull to the right to go right and left to go left and back when you want to stop. Git!” He slapped the chestnut on the side, and the horse trotted away down the road.

“But what about you, Jeff? They mustn't find you here either.”

Jeff seemed so relieved at beating the patrol that he was able to smile. “Sure they can. They know you've got someone with you, but they don't know who it is. I've got papers, and they're not going to arrest a Confederate soldier, I don't think.” He looked down at the remains of the supper and said, “We've got to be natural. Why don't you cook me up some eggs or something quick so I can be eating when they come?”

Quickly Leah pulled some more bacon from the pack and put the skillet back on the fire. “Here, you just sit down, Jeff,” she said. She glanced down the road. “Are you sure they're coming?”

“Yes, and we've got to get our story straight too. I'm going to Kentucky with you to bring this wagon back. That's the story.”

“All right. That's what we'll tell 'em then.”

She barely had time to prepare a meal for Jeff, and he was still eating when he looked up, saying, “I reckon that's them coming down the road now.”

Leah listened. “What do we do, Jeff?”

“Nothing. Let me do most of the talking, though.”

They were sitting there when a patrol of six Confederate cavalrymen pulled up.

A sergeant dismounted and handed the lines of his horse to one of his troopers. He came forward, his eyes watchful. “Hello!” he said.

“Hello, Sergeant,” Jeff said, “you're riding a little late tonight, aren't you?”

The sergeant seemed a bit taken aback by Jeff's uniform. “I'm Sergeant Buchanan, from Richmond.” He studied the two, then asked, “You been on the road long?”

“We sold some feed to the quartermaster early this morning. Headed back now to get another load.”

Sergeant Buchanan asked, “You mind showing me the papers that they always give at the commissary?”

“Oh, I have them over here,” Leah said. She went to a sack that was in the wagon and pulled out a paper. “Here it is, Sergeant, and here is the pass that the lieutenant gave us.”

Sergeant Buchanan took the papers, held them up to the firelight, and peered at them closely. “They look all right,” he said.

“What's the trouble, Sergeant? Something wrong?” Jeff asked lazily. He put another chunk of
biscuit in his mouth and chewed it as if he hadn't a care in the world. “You're not looking for the Yankees to attack here, are you?”

“No, nothing like that, Private.” Sergeant Buchanan handed back the papers and stood there uncertainly. “What's your unit, Private, and your business out here?”

“Stonewall Brigade.”

The sergeant straightened up. “Stonewall Brigade? Well, I hear tell you're getting ready to go into action against Pope. He's coming down the Shenandoah.”

“I think that's right. My father's captain of A Company. He says we've got to be ready to move at any time.” He took another bite of biscuit and washed it down with coffee. “I just had to see this young lady home. She lives down that way a piece, and I've got to bring back another load of grain.”