All Through the Night

by Tara Johnson

  Harsh sobs rent the air. Sinking to his knees, he clutched fistfuls of his hair. She knelt, wrapping her arms around his convulsing form, letting her own tears fall into his hair.

  “Tate, listen to me. You cannot undo what has been done, but God has given you another chance. The opportunity to love as he has loved you. Give those children all you wish you could have done for those you wronged. And do the same to every human you encounter for as long as God gives you breath.”

  “What if this pain never leaves?”

  She squeezed him. “I believe it will, but until it does, just love others and do the next thing.”

  They joined the children, who were happily ensconced in a game of dominoes. Etta was carefully arranging dolls upon a chair. When she saw Tate enter, her chubby face lit up into a smile. She ran to him and tugged his hand. “Pay?”

  He swallowed. “Yes, Etta. I’ll play.”

  She squealed and jabbered, showing him all the dolls and their pretty clothes. He must have shown the proper appreciation, for in moments she was carefully tucking them in his arms as he sat on the floor with her. His soft chuckle as she scolded him brought a bubble of laughter to Cadence’s chest.

  She turned to see if Joshua was watching but realized her husband was missing. “Where is Joshua?”

  Father shrugged. “A friend of his stopped in and requested to speak with him. They are outside on the front porch.”

  A friend? She frowned. Who would have known they were here, save for Zeke?

  Father looked at her and laughed. “Don’t frown so. The man didn’t seem alarmed. Come. I have something to tell you.”

  Forcing the dark musings away, she sat next to him on the sofa, noting the merry light dancing in his eyes. “What is it?”

  “Did Tate tell you?”

  “No.”

  Tate turned, a task made difficult with Etta climbing all over him. “I thought you should be the one to share the news, Father.”

  She looked between them. Father was about to burst. “What’s going on?”

  Father’s brows rose as he beamed. “You, my dear daughter, have been asked to sing ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic’ at a charity bazaar. That’s not all. President Lincoln will be in attendance.”

  She gasped. Surely he was jesting. “This cannot be.”

  “It’s true.” Tate captured Etta’s attention with another doll, distracting her for a moment. “Congressman Ramsey told me about it just today. Said the president would be attending and the congressman specifically asked if you would come and sing.” Tate turned aside to his father. “The two things he speaks most often about are his son’s death and Cadence’s voice.” Tate directed his gaze back to Cadence. “Apparently Lincoln is quite fond of ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic.’”

  James’s eyes rounded. “Fancy that. Singing for President Lincoln himself!”

  Cadence’s hand fluttered to her throat. “I couldn’t. Last time I failed.”

  “Surely you’d not think of refusing.” Father’s smile dimmed. “Cadence, it’s the president of the United States! There’s no higher honor. You could not think of turning the congressman down. And you’ll sing beautifully, just as you always do. Don’t let fear rob you of this opportunity.”

  The door opened and Joshua entered alone. She searched his face for any sign of distress, but he was the same as he had been at dinner. Solemn and quiet. Father waved him in.

  James burst out, too excited to hold in the news, “Mother has been invited to sing for the president!”

  Joshua’s gaze swung to hers, brows raised. “Is this true?”

  She offered a weak smile. “It appears so.”

  “When?”

  Tate spoke up. “In three days.”

  So soon. She felt faint at the thought. So little time to prepare. Perhaps that was for the best. The more time beforehand, the longer she would fret.

  “Perhaps I oughtn’t . . .”

  Father sighed. “Talk some sense into her, Joshua. She can’t throw an honor like this away.”

  Joshua hesitated, then nodded. “I believe your father is right. You should do it.”

  Her eyes rounded. Never before had he pushed her when she felt unsure.

  “I have not yet prayed about it. And the baby—”

  “You would only be singing one song, would you not? Besides, such an opportunity might never come again. I insist.”

  She eyed him warily, but he looked away, carefully avoiding her gaze. Something was wrong.

  “Who stopped by to see you?”

  “It was only Zeke.”

  “It must have been important for him to come all the way here.”

  He shrugged. “Not really. Everything is fine.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she contemplated her husband. He was acting elusive.

  Father enthusiastically forged ahead. “See there? Your husband is a physician, and he heartily agrees you and the baby should be in no danger. Enjoy the evening and the memories you’ll make.”

  Tate’s voice was gentler, as if aware of Cadence’s hesitance. “Is it all right if I tell the congressman you’ll perform?”

  Joshua steadfastly ignored her, instead turning to give his attention to Penelope. Her irritation flamed.

  “Yes, you may tell him I’ll perform.”

  Three days. Three days to give the performance of her life and hopefully discover what secret her husband was hiding.

  The following day, everything went wrong. Miriam left to nurse a neighbor who was ill, and Joshua was gone before Cadence awakened. She was certain now . . . he was purposefully avoiding her. But why?

  The children were fractious, picking fights with each other all morning while doing their sums and reading, and little Etta clung to Cadence’s skirts, begging to be held. The child’s whiny pleas scraped her nerves raw. It was as if the entire family had flipped topsy-turvy.

  Cadence had just given Etta her third cup of milk after no longer being able to bear her cries for more “gilk,” when James and Penelope burst into the kitchen.

  James scowled at his sister. “Give it back, Penelope! I know you have it.”

  The girl’s eyes flashed with challenge. “Prove it.”

  Cadence fixed them with a stern glare. “What is this about?”

  James crossed his arms over his chest. “I was playing with the toy soldiers Papa Piper gave me and Penelope walks by, snatches a handful of them, and just runs away.”

  Cadence turned to her daughter. “Penelope? Is this true?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Penelope! Give him back his toy soldiers immediately.”

  She yanked them from the pocket of her pinafore, thrusting them toward James with a glower. “Fine. I didn’t want them anyway.”

  “You’ve been in a bad mood all morning,” James snapped.

  “Have not.”

  “Have too.”

  “Children,” Cadence interceded, attempting to calm their tempers while not losing her own, “think about how you’re behaving. Are you showing Jesus’ love to each other? And what are you teaching Etta? She looks up to both of you. She’ll pattern her life after how you behave. The new baby will too.”

  Penelope muttered something under her breath.

  Cadence speared her with a look. “What was that?”

  The girl raised her voice. “I said I didn’t ask for a new baby. We were doing just fine like we were. Why did you have to go and add another baby to the family?” With a cry, she ran from the room.

  Cadence stood numb.

  James huffed. “Likely she’s just jealous is all.”

  Cadence squeezed his shoulder. “I pray you’re right.”

  But when Cadence attempted to speak with her, Penelope refused. The child was sullen. Cadence was failing as a mother. Defeat washed over her.

  It was late into the night before Joshua came home. Cadence lay in the darkness of their bedroom, listening as he eased the door open and began to undress. Where had he been all evenin
g? She sprang from bed and hastily lit the lamp. The sizzling flame threw an accusing light on his surprised face.

  “Cadence? What are you doing?”

  She stared at the tattered green coat clutched in his hand. “I knew it. You’ve been out stealing slave children from their owners, haven’t you?”

  He sighed. “I thought it better if you didn’t know. The less you know, the less trouble you’ll be in if something goes wrong.”

  She stomped up to him and yanked the coat from his hand before tossing it onto the chair. “How dare you!” Fury unlike anything she’d ever known rolled through her, burning away all thought, all reason. “You lecture me about the danger of tending the ill at the hospital, saying it is too risky, while you play at life and death like it’s a game of chuck-a-luck. I would prefer our children have their father as well as their mother.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Of course it is!”

  “Slavery is vile. I’ll free as many as I can from its grip. I’m helping people.”

  She propped her hands on her hips. “That’s what I told myself at first when I was tending the ill at the hospital, Joshua. That I was doing it for them, but I was really doing it for myself, to fill a void. To feel loved.”

  He pushed past her and yanked his shirt off with such force, she feared the buttons would fly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I was here, you know. I was the one who saw the horror on Penelope’s face when you’d been shot and she was afraid you were going to die. I was the one who extracted that bullet and stitched you back up. You were nearly killed doing the very thing you were doing tonight.”

  He paused and stared into the wardrobe.

  She placed a hand over her stomach as her throat constricted. “I want our baby to know his father.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “Are you telling me you want me to stop helping the slave children?”

  Was she? “If it means you’re helping them at the expense of your own children, if it means you’re keeping secrets from me or putting yourself in situations that leave you cheating death each time—” she squared her shoulders—“then yes.”

  His eyes glinted. “Perhaps I didn’t know you as well as I thought.”

  The words were a slap. “What?”

  “I was one of those children. I was one of those hungry, helpless souls. And you want me to turn my back on them?”

  “Of course not. I’m willing to fill this whole house up with them, but you’re purposefully breaking the law in some cases. Deceiving men through tricks and gambling. Stealing them outright in others. You take unneeded risks.” She stopped, understanding dawning. “You’re afraid.”

  He stiffened. “What? I’m not afraid.”

  She blinked back the moisture pricking her eyes. “You’re afraid of letting anyone get close, so you deliberately keep them at arm’s length. That’s what you’re doing to me right now, aren’t you? To the children?”

  He grabbed a pillow and turned to stomp out of the room.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’d rather sleep alone on the sofa tonight.”

  He slammed the door behind him. Etta’s wail from the next room shredded the last of Cadence’s composure.

  Dropping her head in her hands, she wept.

  Chapter 31

  “IT’S ALL SET THEN?”

  In Joshua’s home library, Zeke nodded. “Stevens says if he manages to get the child away from Billings, he’ll meet you tomorrow night.”

  “I trust you’ll guard my family for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” Joshua rubbed his bleary eyes. He’d sat up most of the night, his argument with Cadence replaying over and over in his head as he kicked against the too-small couch. She just didn’t understand. “Where are we to meet?”

  “At the Judiciary Square Hall. It’s rumored Lincoln himself will be in attendance that evening for a benefit of some sort. It will be the perfect cover to carry the slave child to the next stop. With so many people there, it will make our way easy. Less interference on the streets.”

  The benefit. Joshua groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cadence. She is supposed to perform for the president tomorrow. How can I possibly sneak away and miss the biggest moment of her life?”

  Frowning, Zeke crossed his arms. “You can’t. So you make a choice.”

  Joshua let his eyes slide shut. “And we already promised James and Penelope they could attend the benefit with us.”

  Zeke sighed. “You sure you want to keep doing this, Doc?”

  “I can’t believe you would even ask me that. You of all people should understand what’s at stake.”

  The large man rubbed his neck. “Hear me out. The cause is just. Always has been. But you’re risking your own family for it. Are you okay with losing your wife and children to keep pursuing this path?”

  “Of course not.” Joshua paced, his footfalls muted against the rug. “But helping those children . . .”

  “Was perhaps only for a season.” Zeke shrugged. “Seasons change. The Almighty has given you children you can guide throughout their entire lives now. Don’t push his hand away and continue to cling to the old. Live in the season he’s given you.”

  Joshua clamped his jaw. “But I would be turning my back on those who need me.”

  Zeke fixed him with a hard stare. “Seems to me you’ll be doing that either way.”

  His torment increased. He could do both. He had to. He must find a way to balance things better. That was all. Guilt needled, but he pushed it down.

  “So you will guard Etta and Miriam while the rest of us are at Judiciary Square Hall?”

  Zeke watched him for a long moment. “I’ll watch them. How will you slip away from the benefit to escort the child to the next station?”

  “I’ll find a way. I always do. Everything will be fine, and Cadence and the children will never know.”

  Cadence fought to breathe, whether from the warm crush of too many people crowded into the hall, the stale air, or her own heightened nerves, she couldn’t tell.

  Judiciary Square Hall was packed full of men in dark suits and women in bright dresses billowed out by their voluminous hoop skirts. Laughter, chatter, and the raucous trills of the band made for an atmosphere of sheer revelry. Booths draped with patriotic bunting lined the hall, each bearing a sign for some cause needing donations or funds. Cadence had attended dozens of such benefits in the past year but never one that held such a charge of excitement. Her skin tingled.

  At her side, James took in the festivities with wide-eyed wonder, saying little, though she often caught a smile playing about his mouth as he watched the antics of the band director waving his arms melodramatically in front of the musicians, his mop of gray hair flopping from side to side like the tongue of a slobbering dog. Penelope chattered continually, her excitement too great to be contained.

  Joshua seemed distracted, frequently checking the timepiece in his pocket. Things between them had been strained and quiet over the past several days. She missed his easy smile and teasing. His arms and tender kisses. He was present yet further away than he’d ever been. An ache formed in her throat.

  “Papa Gish, when will President Lincoln arrive?”

  Joshua leaned down and tweaked Penelope’s nose. “I haven’t discovered that bit of information since you asked me one minute ago.”

  Penelope stretched on her tiptoes, trying to see over the swarming crowd. The scent of perfume and bay rum drifted around them. “I’m too short. How am I to know when he arrives?”

  Joshua chuckled. “I believe you’ll know. Between his height and the whispers of the crowd, you’ll know.”

  A man approached and bowed low before straightening and addressing Cadence. “Miss Piper?”

  “Yes. That is, it’s Mrs. Ivy now.”

  “Ah, how lovely. May I offer my sincerest congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir.”


  “I just wanted to say how delighted I am that you’ll be performing tonight. I fear Washington has been withering away to hear your beautiful voice of late. Everyone’s been speaking of it.”

  He smiled behind his ruddy beard, but there was something in his expression that caused her a moment of unease.

  “How kind of you. It’s my pleasure to do so.”

  The stranger nodded and winked at the children before sauntering away. She watched him wind through the thickening crowd, unsure why he caused her to recoil. She shook off the sensation. He’d been nothing but gentlemanly.

  The musicians began a rousing march, effectively cutting off normal conversation, and Joshua turned to her, saying something she was unable to hear.

  “What?”

  He lifted his voice and pointed. “There is someone I must speak to, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

  She nodded. “Don’t be gone too long.”

  He pressed her hand before weaving through the people clustering around the stage. She lost sight of him within seconds.

  As the march rolled on, murmurs of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

  “He’s here!”

  “The president!”

  Cadence was tempted to jump up and down like a child herself in her haste to see him but refrained. A tall hat bobbed above the crowd. People on all sides pressed in for a glimpse.

  She felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down to see Penelope’s lip protruding. “James and I can’t see.”

  Cadence scanned the area. “There. Follow me.”

  She ushered them to a place near the door where servers had stacked crates of supplies for the booths against the wall.

  “Climb atop these crates and we’ll see if you can catch sight of the president.”

  Giggling, they pulled themselves up, their eyes widening.

  Penelope squealed. “Look, James! Look how tall he is! He’s laughing at something someone is saying.”

  “Sure is.” James was more subdued but beaming from ear to ear. “Can’t believe I’m in the same room as Mr. Lincoln.”

  Cadence squeezed his hand. “A once-in-a-lifetime memory.”