Secret of Richmond Manor Page 11
“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!”
16
Jeff Saves the Day
This 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 wa
s 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.”
The sergeant seemed to relax. “Well, we need all the feed we can get. These horses are living on nothing but grass.” He touched his hat, then said, “Just checking.” He turned and went back to his horse. Stepping into his saddle, he said, “All right, let’s head back. It’ll be a long ride, but I want to be back in town tonight. Good night!”
Leah and Jeff sat there tensely, and finally Jeff let out his breath. “Well,” he said, “I reckon that’s that.”
Leah found that her hands were trembling. “I was really scared, Jeff,” she confessed. “How’d you know we’d be here?”
“Well, you said so in the letter.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” She looked down the road. “We’d better go get Ezra. He’s not very good with a horse.”
They walked down the road a short distance, and when Leah called out they heard a faint answer. They stood waiting, and soon Ezra appeared—leading the horse, not riding him.
“It’s all right, Ezra. They’re gone.”
Ezra handed the reins to Jeff. “I guess I owe you a lot, Jeff,” he said. “They’d of got us sure if you hadn’t come.”
Jeff stared at the Yankee soldier, then shrugged. “Come on back. We’ll talk about what we’ve got to do.”
Back at their camp, Jeff tied the horse, then stood looking at the other two. “I’m not sure this is over,” he said. “I asked Pa if I could take you as far as you’re going and see you get safe back home.”
“Oh, Jeff.” Leah reached out and took his arm. “Would you really do that?”
Jeff said, “Why, sure. What’d you think?”
“Come on, sit down,” Leah said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
The two boys sat, and Leah went back to her provision bag. “I baked these yesterday, so they’re not fresh, but they’re your favorite, Jeff.”
Jeff looked at what she was holding out. “Fried pies! My land! I haven’t had one of these in I don’t know when.” He grabbed one and sank his teeth into it. “Try one of these, Ezra,” he said. “You ain’t had no pie in your life until you’ve tasted one of Leah’s fried pies.”
Leah had learned to make fried pies from her mother. She simply cooked the dried fruit and wrapped it in dough and then dropped it into hot fat. They fried with a crispy brown exterior, and inside the fruit was juicy and tender.
The three consumed the six pies that she had brought, each eating two.
“I wish there was a hundred,” Jeff declared, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I could eat every one of them.”
The fire crackled and hissed, and finally Jeff said, “I reckon we’ll get an early start tomorrow.” He looked then at the Yankee soldier. “Looks like you’re gonna make it, Ezra.”
“Well, I won’t be fighting anymore. I promised Mr. Carter I wouldn’t. So I’m out of it.” He looked at Leah. “I’m glad of it too.”
Jeff said, “I wish I was out of it. I wish all of us were.”
From far off Leah heard the sound of a night bird making his last cries of the day, and then quiet settled down over the camp. They sat silently looking at the fire for a while, and she wondered what the future would bring.
After a while Leah said, “I guess we’d better get to bed.”
They all got up then, and she went over to Jeff. “Good night, Jeff. And I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.” She turned and climbed into the wagon and rolled into her blankets.
“Guess we’ll bunk out here,” Jeff said. He took the blanket that Leah had given him, and Ezra did the same.
The two young men lay in the darkness, watching the moon. Then Ezra said, “Funny, isn’t it—I signed up to fight the Rebels, and here’s one that saved my life. I sure do thank you.”
“That’s all right,” Jeff said. He was already thinking of the time he would have to return to the fighting, and it depressed him. “Good night, Yank.”
Ezra lifted himself up onto one elbow and smiled in the moonlight. “Good night, Johnny Reb,” he said, then lay back and went to sleep.
17
Someday All This Will Be Over
Ezra sat in the rocking chair, holding the baby. He was singing to her a nursery song he had learned from Sarah Carter. There was a look on his face that Leah had never seen before.
“He sure is foolish about that baby, isn’t he, Ma?”
In the next room, Mrs. Carter looked up from her sewing and s
miled. “I never saw a young man take to a child so. Girls do sometimes. Sarah and I, of course, are silly about that child. But a young feller like Ezra—I never seen anything like that.”
“I think it’s because he didn’t have any home life,” Leah said. “He told me yesterday he’d never held a baby in his whole life. Isn’t that terrible?”
“Well, as much as he loves Esther, I think he ought to have a dozen of his own. Unusual to see a young man like that.”
She put her sewing into a basket and got up, pausing long enough to say, “You two have gotten to be pretty close, haven’t you?”
“I guess so.” Leah watched Ezra, who held the baby up now and squeezed her to make her chortle. “I felt so sorry for him when I first saw him, of course. He was about as sick as I ever saw anybody. Then after he got better, I got worried about him having to go back to that prison. I’m glad we were able to get him away.”
She looked out the window to where Jeff was splitting wood. “I think it was noble of Jeff to do what he did. If he hadn’t come for us, they would have caught us for sure.”
“I wish Tom could have come back to see Sarah,” her mother said.
“Does she say much about him, Ma?”
“No, she doesn’t talk much. You know Sarah. She’s just quiet. Half the young fellows in this neighborhood are trying to court her, but she just won’t have anything to do with any of them.”
“I think it’s the same way with Tom. At least that’s what Jeff says. It’s a shame, isn’t it, Ma? Two young people like that, wanting to get married and can’t because of this old war.”
Outside, Jeff was saying about the same thing to Leah’s father.
Dan Carter was a thin man with brown hair and faded blue eyes. He was not in good health but had managed his job as a sutler better than anyone thought possible. Now he sat on an upturned box and watched Jeff split sections of beech.
Every time Jeff landed a blow, the wood fell as splintered as a cloven rock. “You’re the best wood splitter I ever saw, Jeff,” he said. “Don’t waste your strength like so many fellers do.” He watched the young man take aim, drive a hard blow, then reach down and pick up the wood and toss it onto a pile.