“No. Admittedly, though, I’m cold now.”
“I can change that, beautiful.” He slipped his hands underneath her chemise and slid them up her abdomen until he reached her breasts. He flicked his fingertips over her nipples, pinching them and twisting them; seeming to savor each sigh that escaped her lips.
Thomas laughed quietly and tugged her chemise over her head, tossing it onto a chair near the mattress. “I suppose this paperwork can wait until tomorrow.”
“I’d like to think you enjoy me more the monotony of Army matters.”
He caught her breasts in his hands. “I adore you, Adelaide. Those big blue eyes, that pouty bottom lip. God, just seeing you naked...” Leaning his head forward, he pulled one of her nipples into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue before nibbling the tender flesh with his teeth. “I’ve craved you for years; you were my most secret fantasy. My favorite dream.”
“Then why not have me now?” She leaned forward, pressing her lips roughly to his. “I’m not a dream anymore, Thomas. I’m yours, every night. Whenever you want me most.”
He sucked on her nipple and tugged on it with his teeth; teasing her as he slid his hand between her legs. Slipping one finger, and then a second, inside her, he pulled his lips from her breasts. “I don’t just want you, Adelaide. I need you. Being away from you made me realize that I can’t live my life without you in it.”
She didn’t even know how to respond, all she could do was press her lips to his.
After a moment, he broke the kiss. “I think this paperwork can wait until morning. In fact, I think I need to get you upstairs. Now.”
* * *
SHE SPENT THE entire night wrapped in his arms. Just as the sun was beginning slice through the darkness, Thomas roused her with light, teasing kisses along her bare shoulder. Adelaide rubbed her eyes and turned to look at him. “Stay just a little while longer.”
He laughed and smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “You know I can’t, sweet love.”
“I’ll make you breakfast. All we have are potatoes: fried for breakfast, baked for lunch, and stew for dinner. Frying them won’t take long, you can have coffee while you wait.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I have morning formation; I’ll just see you later on in the day. Baked potatoes and potato stew are exactly what I wanted today, actually, so I’m quite excited.”
“You’re sweet.”
He chuckled, rolling her onto her back and kissing her. “Sweet on you. Finding you here has made all the difference, Adelaide. I was afraid coming back would bring back too many painful memories…but I found you. Coming back to Harpers Ferry wasn’t coming home—coming back to you was finding home.”
Chapter 30
January 1864
WINTER SLAMMED INTO the Ferry like an artillery shell against a wall. Every exposed surface—from lampposts to the stone stairs—was encased in a translucent glaze of ice. The town was buried under a foot of snow which, literally, brought the Union Army grinding to a halt. Ice on the railroad tracks kept supplies and troops from entering the Ferry.
The food started to run out depressingly fast.
The dull ache in her stomach never seemed to go away. Lizzie got the first bites of what little food they could acquire. Adelaide quickly learned to suppress her gag reflex, choking down nearly spoiled meat and moldy bread. It was better than nothing—although, not by much. Their saving grace was turning out to be a meager store of canned goods carefully rationed to last as long as possible.
The air seemed to be constantly tinged with ice. Adelaide did her best to portion out the wood so it lasted longer, but it always seemed so cold: the meager fire and nearly threadbare quilts hardly seemed adequate. Thomas began dismantling the shelves from the main store room and broke them down for firewood. At night, he would bundle her up in his blue frockcoat and tuck the blankets around her, getting up seemingly every few minutes to stoke the fire in the tiny bedroom fireplace. He never complained, kissing her gently every time he snuggled back into bed.
Adelaide stirred the pot atop the cook stove, not even looking forward to eating the stew. It wasn’t so much stew: it was more like a pot of soaking vegetables and a little bit of chicken stock. She had added too much water, but wanted to feed as many of the boarders as possible. There were so many extra now. Several men had even opted to curl up on the floor in the upstairs sitting room rather than chance the elements outside.
“Hello, my darling.” Thomas strolled into the back room and quickly kissed her cheek. His lips were cold against her skin. “Levi’s taking the shutters down from the side of the building. We’ll be able to build that fire up again for you shortly.”
“If you can stay a bit, the stew will be ready soon.” Adelaide replaced the pot lid. “I can’t guarantee that it’s good, but it’s hot. It’s vegetable flavored, so at least there’s that added benefit.”
“No, that’s alright, I’ve already eaten a nutritious Army issued meal of rotted pork and hardtack. Save the stew for the others.” He set an armload of blankets on the table. “I wanted to bring you these now, before someone else snatches them up.”
“Blankets?” She ran her fingertips over the heavy brown wool. “Where did you get these?”
He was quiet for a moment. “A few men in the 34th died from the frost last night. I figured they wouldn’t mind if I passed their blankets on to someone who was in need of them. Adelaide…my sweet, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Thomas, you know that.” She began folding the blankets up neatly, her heart heavy at the reason they were available to her. “Is something wrong?”
“Can you describe your friend Susan Hamilton?”
“Susan?” Adelaide frowned. “Surely you remember Susan, David’s sister. She was there when we met.”
“I do. But I need you to describe her to me.”
“Susan is roughly my height sandy brown hair and a freckled complexion. Her mother was Irish, so her cheeks and nose are spattered with freckles.” Adelaide thought for a moment. “Her nose is crooked, she broke it when we were children. She slipped on the stone steps after church one Sunday and tumbled down. I think her front tooth was chipped little from the fall.”
“Was she ill?
“Susan whored herself for money.” Adelaide shrugged her shoulders, resting her hands on top of the blankets. “I haven’t spoken to her much in years. Has she done something wrong?”
“You’re going to need to come with me.” Thomas put his hand on the small of her back and led her towards the staircase. “Make sure you dress warmly. It’s bitter out there.”
“Thomas—”
“Adelaide, this isn’t a request.” He looked at her seriously, his voice firm. “Major Pratt asked me personally to find a local to help with…with this matter.”
She didn’t question him a second time. Going upstairs, she pulled on an extra pair of stockings and another heavy, wool petticoat. As she grabbed her cloak, Sarah stuck her head in the room. “What’s Thomas—I mean, Captain Cooper—waiting for?”
Adelaide shrugged. “I don’t know. He told me to come with him.”
“Are you getting arrested? Probably for seducing a Yankee officer, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“No, Sarah, he’s not arresting me. Perhaps you should learn to mind your own business.”
Thomas was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped one of the brown wool blankets around her shoulders and led her to the front door, shielding her from the icy winter blast. “It isn’t a far walk, just to the Provost office.”
The air outside seemed nearly as cold as the air inside, but was punctuated by a frozen, bone chilling wind. It tugged mercilessly at them, biting through Adelaide’s layers of clothing and numbing her body. She followed Thomas silently, picking her way across the patches of ice on Shenandoah Street. If it were not for Thomas’s strong, steady grip, she would have fallen several times.
It wasn’t much warmer in t
he Provost Marshall’s office than it had been outside, although the lack of wind made a huge difference. Her first thought was how nervous Mr. Moulton looked. When they came for their new passes each month, he always looked exuberant behind the desk. This day, however, he looked haunted.
Major Pratt was a strikingly handsome and good natured man. He stood as Adelaide entered the room and whipped his hat from his head. “Thank you, Captain. Miss Randolph, Captain Cooper says you are familiar with a young woman, a resident of the Ferry.”
“Susan Hamilton?”
“If asked to, could you identify her from sight?”
“Why, certainly.” Adelaide nodded confidently. “I have known her for years.”
Major Pratt motioned for her to follow him. Thomas escorted her around the writing desks and past wide-eyed Mr. Moulton. Before walking any further, Major Pratt held up his hands. “I want you to prepare yourself, Miss Randolph. The young lady I want you to identify has passed on.”
Adelaide turned and stared accusingly at Thomas. “She’s dead?”
“Now, we don’t know that yet.” Major Pratt attempted to smile reassuringly, but it looked more like a grimace. “It could be someone else…”
Adelaide peered past him into the small room behind the main office. She could see a body laid out on a cot, but from the distance she was at, could not make out any features. “I’ll do my best.”
Major Pratt led her into the room and firmly rested his hand on her shoulder. “Just look briefly. If you don’t know her, just say so. I’m sorry to make you do this, Miss, but I’d rather give her proper burial than in a potter’s field.”
He pulled back the blanket.
The body on the cot was covered in a horrible, blotchy rash; the nose and chin blackened from frostbite. Her mouth hung open slightly and the swollen tongue protruded from blackish-blue lips. The rope used to hang her was still around her neck. It was evident she’d hung there for quite some time before someone found her.
She knew, without a doubt, it was Susan Hamilton.
She managed to nod, quickly turning away and pressing her face to Thomas’s shoulder. Major Pratt said something, but she wasn’t listening. Damn Susan. She was spoiled and self-centered and no more than a husk of the girl she’d been. She’d let the war consume her.
And now she was dead.
That night, long after Thomas had fallen asleep, she stood at the window and watched a lone spirit trudge down the street towards the Armory. It was Susan; what was left of her. Adelaide knew there was a part of her, deep inside, that wanted to run out to the street and send her to the other side. Susan didn’t deserve to be caught up in the scourge.
The rest of her didn’t care anymore.
The Shadow Man had the warriors; had had the innocent and now, he had the damned.
She let her walk.
Chapter 31
April 1864
AS THE WAR approached its third year, yet another Union commander was put in charge of Harpers Ferry. He wore a ridiculously pointed beard and waxed his mustache. One of his arms was crippled—someone said it had happened at Antietam—but he managed to keep the buttons on his fancy uniform bright and shiny. His name was Max Weber and there was something about his rigid stature that reminded Adelaide of another German, Frederick Roeder. As fastidious as his person was, General Weber was actually very kind. He had a surprisingly witty sense of humor.
There was another surge of troops into the Ferry. It reminded her of the surge the previous summer, with all the trainloads of supplies and soldiers rolling into town. The sudden temperate weather and abundance of food seen to feed the war machine; sparking renewed angst and hate between the armies.
However, with large troop movements, inevitably there would be some sort of battle or skirmish or some other nonsense. Her intuition was correct. One night, after making love to her, Thomas held her, silent for so long she thought he’d fallen asleep. “I have to tell you something.”
Adelaide didn’t answer. She snuggled closer to him and pressed her face to his chest. “Don’t.”
He sighed and stroked her hair, resting his chin on the top of her head. “We’re being sent to Martinsburg as extra protection. I hope not to be gone long…but you never really know with these things.”
“When do you leave?”
“First light.”
She clung to him, her eyes welling up with hot tears. She always felt like there was something he never told her; things that all the soldiers knew but never passed on. They said “Old Jube” was on the move, but neglected to mention where he was on the move to. The Ferry? “I almost can’t remember what it’s like to be apart from you.”
“We’ve made quite a home for ourselves, haven’t we? Living in sin together, the Captain and his beautiful Sesech.” He chuckled and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “I’ll only be up the road though, really, so if you need me, you can just send a telegram. Only God himself could stop me from getting back to you.”
“I always need you.”
“Our orders have us coming right back to the Ferry, so you don’t have to worry.” He kissed her gently. “Really, darling, you don’t. It’s only Martinsburg.”
The next morning, she watched 34th march down Shenandoah Street towards the pike, their rifles perched smartly on their shoulders. It may only have been Martinsburg, but it felt like he was leaving her for good.
* * *
BY MID-MONTH, reports reached The Virginia Free Press about a battle in the Shenandoah Valley. The articles reported the 34th Massachusetts had taken part in one particularly violent battle, but surely it must have been a misprint. The 34th wasn’t in the Valley, they were up in Martinsburg. Adelaide shoved the paper in the cook stove, silently praying Thomas would be home soon. She forbade Levi from bringing anymore issues of The Press home.
Souls marched upon the Ferry, flooding through the streets by the thousands. There were more than she and Sarah could handle on their own. The best they could do was protect the family, barricade the store, and watch for the wraiths; vengeful and bent on destruction. This was what the Shadow Man had warned her about; this was what he was waiting for.
The scourge was never going to end.
* * *
THE 34th DIDN’T march back into Harpers Ferry until early July, their tight blue ranks noticeably thinner. Adelaide waited impatiently for Thomas to come home to her, constantly looking up each time the door opened. Sarah poked at her with a wooden spoon. “He’ll get here when he gets here. If you keep up this behavior, you’re going to burn the bread and make us all miserable.”
Adelaide scowled. No matter how old Sarah got, she was still as impossible as a child.
Finally, she heard the door open and when she glanced out, she saw his familiar figure silhouetted against the light. Adelaide dropped her dishrag and ran out to the main room, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “I missed you so much.”
He wrapped his free arm around her tightly, his other hand clenched his hat. Adelaide’s brow furrowed slightly. The stench was awful; she had to hold her breath in order not to gag. His uniform, his hair, his very being reeked of sweat, bowels, and a sweet coppery smell that couldn’t be anything but blood. Regardless, she pressed her cheek to his shoulder and tried to sound like she didn’t notice. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
Thomas was silent, just resting his chin on the top of her head. When he pulled away, his gaze was intense but there no smile on this face. “You don’t know how glad I am to see this god damned town.”
Something had changed in his eyes, like a harsh reality had set in and taken root in his soul. His shoulders were hunched, almost as if the very weight of the war had settled on his back. A change so fast, so obvious, scared her. “Is all well in Martinsburg?”
“We weren’t in Martinsburg.” He rubbed his eyes. “We were down in New Market and Lexington…look, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What happened?” She touched his arm. This wasn’t lik
e him, the change scared her. “Are you okay?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped. His face twisted and his eyes fell downcast. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m fine, just…just understand that. We got caught up in a battle and we lost. Just leave it at that. I don’t want to talk about it—not now, not ever.”
Late that night after he made love to her, after he thought she was asleep, Adelaide heard him softly sobbing into the pillow. When he had calmed down, he rolled against her and held her tightly, wetting her neck with his tears. He slept restlessly, tossing and turning; occasionally crying out and waking her up.
Thomas stayed true to his word. He never again mentioned New Market and Adelaide never asked. It wasn’t until several months later that Mr. Moulton let it slip that New Market was the Shenandoah Valley battle she had read about in The Press. Midway through the battle, the 34th learned the Rebel shot was coming from the guns of children: cadets from the Virginia Military Institute. When the Yanks realized they were shooting at boys, they turned and fled the field. The Rebs called it a victory. They had beat Lincoln’s Army!
So Lincoln’s Army burned the Institute to the ground.
Chapter 32
July 1864
ADELAIDE WAS JERKED out of a deep sleep by a sudden pounding on the front door. Thomas was already on his feet and out of the room before she had the chance to sit up completely, still groggy from her dreams. She could hear him conversing with someone in hushed tones. As they talked, she pulled the bed sheet over her, not entirely certain where her chemise had landed when Thomas had recklessly pulled it from her body.
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