For Home and Country Page 5

  She nodded and dropped her gaze. “Yes, and for that, I am sorry.”

  I glared at her. “Too late for that. Do you think marching in here and stating you’re remorseful makes everything better? Well, it doesn’t. You robbed me of my innocence.” All my pain and fear erupted as I struggled to smother the daunting memories of my childhood.

  “I know. I don’t seek your forgiveness. I know that’s something someone like me can never get. But I’m dying, E-e…” My birth name faded from her lips.

  I leaped to my feet. “Do you think I care? I thought you were in hell where you belonged for years. I haven’t given you a thought since I left that day.” The lie delivered the painful impact I wanted.

  After briefly floundering, she braced herself and continued. “I deserve that. God knows I do. I had hoped you would have escaped and made a fresh start in life.”

  “I did.”

  “Yes, I can see that, but I hoped for something better.”

  “And just when did this motherly concern blossom? It sure wasn’t when you forced your male callers on me. ‘Two for the price of one.’” I mimicked her cheerful banter, which was seared into my head.

  She gulped and lifted guilt-filled eyes, but remained silent.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” I said before turning away from her to pace the floor. How dare she show up here, acting as though she had been to a revival and found God. The buried despondency ripped through my chest, and it heaved with rising tears. “Get out!”

  She started to protest, but I marched forward and shoved her out the door and into the hallway. “I don’t ever want to see your face again. I loathe the day you birthed me. May you die a cruel and painful death.” I slammed the door in her face and held my breath until my lungs felt like they would burst. Only when her footsteps moved down the hall did I release my breath and crumple to the floor.

  “Why are you so cruel?” I looked at the heavens. “Why did you have to remind me of her? Why did you have to make me relive the pain?” Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried as I had each time her callers defiled my body…and the time after I’d tried to save Big John from the jailor. As much as I despised her, I hated what I’d become—her protégé.

  An hour later the door opened, and the ring of his spurs lifted my head from the corner where I’d settled. Compassion shone in his eyes as he strode forward and dropped to his knees before me. I launched myself at him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and held onto the one person who’d become a rock in my life.

  “Where were you?” I said, my chest heaving, though no tears came.

  “Getting the supplies you requested,” he said before pulling me back to inspect my face. “What has caused you so much distress?”

  “S-she was here.” I rocked back on my knees.

  “Who?” He stared at me in puzzlement.

  I could never have imagined when I hired him for protection, the evening the Tucker woman and I’d visited the Rawlings, that our lives would become entangled. He’d become my constant companion, bodyguard, and something more. Emotions stirred in my stomach each time he stepped from the shadows or entered a room. Love was a foreign emotion for me, and I’d deceived myself into believing I was incapable of it. Zeke Montgomery had shown me that, in truth, I’d felt unworthy of love and held a distorted opinion that I was defective and had caused my mother to reject me and manage me in unthinkable ways.

  “My mother.”

  His mouth unhinged, and then he snapped it shut. Once he recovered from his shock, he said, “Forgive me for my bluntness, but I thought you told me she was dead.”

  “I did because I thought she would be by now.” I pushed to my feet. He stood and regarded me, bemused. “For years, I wished for her death—so much that I’d come to believe it was true. And then she shows up here, looking ready to drop at any moment.”

  “Where is she now?” He gripped my arms.

  “Gone.” I wiggled from his grip and walked to the doorway before turning back to face him. “I don’t know where. But she is, and I’m glad for it.”

  I walked down the hallway toward the gaiety of lust and drunkenness drifting from the grand parlor. Pausing, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and waltzed into the room.

  “Arthur.” I gestured to the new bartender as he walked behind the counter and set down a box of liquor.

  “Madame?”

  “Pour me a glass of whiskey.”

  He frowned at my request but took a glass, poured an inch into the bottom, and pushed it toward me. I lifted the glass and stared into the amber liquid before throwing it back. The inviting burn of the whiskey trailed down my throat and warmed my belly.

  “Another.” I pushed the glass at him.

  He poured again, and when he stopped, I reached for his hand and gripped the bottle. “Leave it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He released his hold, gave me another puzzled look, and moved to unpack the box.

  I drained the glass and then another before swerving to peer at a patron who eyed me with admiration and lust gleaming in his eyes, which only fueled the self-loathing I felt. I looked around the establishment I’d created and despair anchored in my gut. I grabbed the bottle and headed for the staircase.

  At the bottom step, someone gripped my wrist. “Amelie.” I heard the concern in Zeke’s voice, and turned to face him. His tender expression made my body tremble—not with desire, but a deeply rooted belief that I didn’t deserve his kindness.

  “I’ll be fine. Please see that I’m not disturbed.” I took the first step.

  “Do you want me to sit with you?”

  I paused and turned to cup his cheek. “No, my darling, I must face my demons alone.” I let my hand drop, gathered the side of my skirt, and ascended the stairs.

  Willow

  July, 1861

  I SAT AT THE BREAKFAST table with Pippa. Mammy had drawn the heavy burgundy drapes closed to keep out the heat. Pippa’s face grew distant as I half-listened to her usually intriguing chatter. The night before, as I’d lain in bed worrying and wide awake, an idea seeded itself in my head, and all morning it’d occupied my mind.

  Yes, it could serve very nicely. I traced the edge of my plate as I worked out the plan. It would take some convincing, but it definitely could work.

  Pippa’s voice elevated. “Willow?”

  I jerked and blinked to clear my mind and noted her puckered brow. “Yes?”

  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Care to inform me of what has captured your mind?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “That obvious, is it?”

  She regarded me tenderly. “I’ve come to recognize that far-off stare, and when your gears are turning. Do you care to share what has you so preoccupied?”

  I hesitated, and my gaze focused on the empty seat at the head of the table to my left. The sadness that filled me felt like an open hole in the center of my chest, forming each morning when I’d turn over and regard the empty place next to me in the bed. The daunting realization of the nightmare encompassing the country would return, and I’d come down to breakfast and be reminded again of Bowden and Ben’s absence. Then there was Mary Grace and the children…

  The ache of loneliness became too much. I stifled it and looked at Pippa. I’d come to care for her deeply; she’d added life to the place. “I can’t stand sitting here while they are out there fighting. With Lincoln requesting enlistment for a Union Army, folks are saying the war will not be over anytime soon.”

  “It appears that way.” Concern shadowed her face.

  “I wish we could receive word from Bowden or Ben. The not knowing is unbearable.”

  “I feel your pain.”

  “I’m thinking that, if this war shows no signs of ending soon, we should spend our time by reinforcing this place for the greater good.”

  “How is that?”

  “What happens in wars throughout history?”

  “Death and brutality,” she
said before taking a bite of her eggs. Every gesture and movement she made exuded the grace of a lady, sometimes making me feel awkward and anything but a proper Southern belle.

  “Yes, all of that.” I gulped at her response and pushed away the vision of Bowden and Ben on the battlefield. “Also, the troops come to raid the nearby villages. We womenfolk must think ahead and seek to do what we can to protect our resources, and if we need to aid our soldiers, we can.”

  She’d lifted her napkin to pat her lips, and paused in mid motion to gawk warily at me. “What is turning in that lovely head of yours? I promised Ben I would see that you don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

  I smirked and shook my head at the revelation. “I assumed as much when he insisted you move into the main house with his leaving.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” Her blue eyes pleaded with me for understanding.

  I waved a hand at her. “You needn’t worry. I quite like having you here.” I offered her a smile before continuing. “As I was saying. We must outmaneuver our enemies. The well-being of the folks on this plantation, and our men, has to be our first priority.”

  “I agree. What do you seek to do?”

  Mammy walked into the room with a fresh carafe of coffee. I scraped back my chair and rose. “Come with me,” I said to Pippa, who stood and laid her napkin on the table.

  “Where you womanfolkses off to? Dis here food git cold, and I won’t be happy ’bout et.” Mammy balled a hand on her hip.

  “I have an idea and wanted to show Pippa.”

  “Why I got an inkling I ain’t gwine to lak et?”

  “I haven’t got time for your lectures,” I said firmly. “But you’d best come so that you understand my plan. So you can apply grace to the folks trotting dirt all over your floors.” She started to object, but I put up a hand to stop her. “Hear me out, and then you are free to inform me of your opinion. If you wouldn’t mind, please follow me.”

  I marched out the door and down the hall to the supply closet under the stairs. I pulled the door open and stepped back. The women glanced past me into the narrow closet.

  “What we luking at?” Still holding the coffee carafe, Mammy exchanged a look of confusion with Pippa.

  “I’ve been thinking about how we need to hide food, medicine, and supplies. And if need be, soldiers.”

  “And how you reckon dat closet gwine to hold much? I can barely fit in dere.” Mammy swiped a hand at the closet.

  “We go up,” I said.

  “What you meaning?” She regarded me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Oh,” Pippa said in dawning understanding. “The attic.”

  “Yes,” I said with a smile. “If soldiers come, they will look for an attic. Jimmy can fortify the space to appear as though it’s simply a closet, but the shelving will pull out, and we will build stairs going up to the attic.”

  Pippa frowned. “If the attic is the first place they would look, then why—”

  “Because a false wall in the current attic will discourage further questioning and searching. I will have Jimmy draw up plans, and I’ll assign a few men to start the construction. Our menfolk are counting on us, and I, for one, will not let them down.”

  “I don’t know how you do et,” Mammy said, shaking her head.

  “What do you mean?” I twisted to regard her.

  “Dat head of yours. I reckoned when de good Lard made you, he made you wid de brain of a man.”

  “That is where you are wrong.”

  “Oh?”

  “When the Lord made us, he made us with the brains and strength of women. Look at Joan of Arc and all the women throughout history who had courage as great as any man. Look at Harriet Tubman and the risks she continues to take for her people.”

  “And de Moses ’oman got a bounty on her head,” Mammy said with a snort. “Now, listen: I admire her efforts as much as de next nigra, but she ain’t you. For years I’ve paid heed to de history lessons you’ve given me, and I believe in you, but I ain’t luking for you to go playing dis Joan of Arc or de Moses ’oman. No sah, I got me one gal off on her own where I can’t luk out for her, and I ain’t fixing to have any more worry den what you two already cause me.”

  “We must help. I won’t stand by and do nothing. Who knows, perhaps we can make our own history, one that isn’t so tainted by society and laws on women.”

  “Dat is crazy talk. Do you hear yourself? You’ve done lost your mind. ’Omen’s place is in de home, taking care of deir menfolkses and chillum.”

  “Just like a black is a slave and nothing more?” Passion for the cause ignited in my gut. “No, Mammy, we must change. We must broaden our perspective and step out of the errors of the past.”

  “’Course I ain’t saying blacks are to be slaves,” she said with a huff and narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Mark my words. One day, all slaves will be free. And maybe, one day, women will even earn the right to vote. Can you imagine?” I grinned at a fantasy Whitney and I had often talked about.

  Mammy swatted at the air as though abolishing such an outlandish idea. “Hogwash. You’ve always bin a dreamer.”

  I shrugged. “Perhaps, but dreaming is good for the soul.”

  She lifted a brow and eyed me before cracking into a wide grin. “Reckon dat dreaming of yours gits to other souls too. Very well, ef you say we gwine to build, den we gwine to build, and deir ain’t a Northerner or Southerner dat can stand in our way.”

  I cradled her shoulders with an arm and looked from her to Pippa. “What do you say, ladies?”

  “I say it’s a brilliant plan.” Pippa clasped her hands together at her chin, her face radiating excitement.

  THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE HIDING place in the attic began that day. Still grieving his father’s death, Parker jumped at the chance to become Jimmy’s right-hand man on the job, and the two worked well into the night.

  One afternoon I descended the newly constructed steps leading from the secret room, barely big enough to house a person as well as supplies. I hoped we would never need to hide anything but rations. Exiting the closet, I stepped into the corridor on the main floor when the pounding of running footsteps drew my attention to the open door leading to the front veranda.

  “Missus Willow!” Big John darted through the open door.

  “What is it?” I hurried toward him.

  He paused to catch his breath. “Et de Home Guards, Missus, dey coming up de lane.”

  I glanced over his shoulder and observed the cloud of dust of their arrival. “God in heaven!” I raced back down the corridor. “We have company,” I called up into the opening of the attic, and my voice echoed back.

  The hammering ceased and there came muffled voices before someone dashed down the stairs. Parker came into view, and without our exchanging words, I stepped in to help replace the false wall.

  “What is all the ruckus?” Pippa said from behind me.

  I spun to find her clothed in a pale-blue silk day dress and peering down from the railing overhead. “The Home Guards are coming. Please help put everything back into place while I see to them.”

  She hurried down the stairs, and I passed her on my way back to the front of the house. Mammy now stood with Big John in the foyer. He clasped her hands to his chest and comforted her in hushed tones.

  As I slowed my pace, I lifted a hand to smooth back my hair. “Mammy, you’d best gather yourself. Your fretting will make the men suspicious for sure.” I looked at Big John. “You better make yourself scarce.” Since his arrival, we had taken extreme precautions because his presence wasn’t one someone could easily forget, and the risk was too great.

  “Yessum.” He raced from the house, dashed down the stairs, and disappeared.

  I stepped out onto the veranda and shut the door behind me. Steadying my breathing, I walked down the steps to greet the men as they reined their horses to a stop at the end of the path. I gritted my teeth before feigning a smile at Josephine’s husband. “Gentlemen.�
� I looked from him to the rest of the group, composed of boys and elderly men. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  When I spotted Mr. Barlow, Magnus’s father, seated on a chestnut bay, the tension in my jaw eased. Callie had told me he had joined the Home Guards, but I hadn’t been aware he rode with Theodore Carlton. Surely he hadn’t forgotten how Theodore and several other men had sought to run him and his family off after their arrival.

  Theodore tipped his hat and sat like a prized peacock upon his mount. “Mrs. Armstrong, I see you are faring well,” he said with a smile that made my skin crawl.

  “I’m as well as can be expected. How is Josephine?” I hoped to turn his thoughts to matters at his own home.

  “She fares well. She longs for her life in Charleston. But, like many, we were forced to abandon our home and man the plantation. Every day the damn slaves run off, and with my work securing the roads and Charleston, it leaves my wife to manage the plantation and those that remain.”

  “I hope she will find time for a visit soon. I do enjoy her company.”

  “It’s not safe for you womenfolk to be left to manage the homes alone. And all the more dangerous for you to travel the roads, with all these damn Union soldiers and slaves on the loose. Niggers are likely to take advantage of you in your vulnerable conditions.”

  “I carry no concern that the blacks will harm me or what is mine. It is our countrymen that give me cause to worry.” I gestured at the still-scarred Livingston.

  “Yes, we are all troubled by what happened here. It makes people question what enemies your husband has made, like your father before him.” His piercing eyes regarded me as though he were hinting at something more.

  My mocking laugh was loud and clear, while nerves congregated in my stomach. “This was no enemy, other than those that seek to hold the South in ruins. The men who attacked Livingston were nothing more than the vicious Northern militia. Ask Mr. Sterling or those who came to our aid. My husband is an honorable man, much like my father was.”