All Through the Night

by Tara Johnson

  It took all of Joshua’s willpower not to barge through the doors and start flipping tables.

  The sour odor of whiskey swirled around him. Washington had grown ever filthier and more barbaric since war’s declaration, but this part of town . . . He shuddered to think of the poor souls sleeping in the alleys beyond the tavern. What hope did they have?

  The tavern door swung open and he recognized Tate’s lean form descending the stairs and shoving his hands into his pockets before strolling down the dark street. When he passed, Joshua fell into step beside him, saying nothing.

  They walked for blocks before Tate uttered a sound. “It was who I feared.”

  “The Knights?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s more.”

  “What?”

  “I have a name.”

  “Who?”

  A muscle twitched in Tate’s jaw. “Congressman Ramsey.”

  Joshua pulled him to a stop with a yank on his sleeve. He hissed, “You’re sure?”

  Fury shadowed his brother-in-law’s face. “Yes.”

  “I overheard a conversation between him and someone some time ago but hoped, prayed I’d misunderstood.”

  “You didn’t.” Tate’s lips pressed into a hard line. “The congressman is what they call ‘Master of the Rose of the Circle.’ A member of the highest ranking.”

  Joshua’s gut twisted. “None of this makes sense. Congressman Ramsey works alongside President Lincoln.”

  Tate shook his head. “What better way to destroy your enemy than from the inside? Working in Ramsey’s office has made me privy to information that has left me suspicious to his true motives for the past several weeks. Just last week I found a stamp in his desk that bore the seal of a snake in a circle. I think after his son was killed, it twisted his mind against the Union and the entire war. I heard him whispering to another congressman only three days ago about the need to be rid of President Lincoln with all haste.”

  Joshua’s mind raced. The congressman had always appeared to be one of Cadence’s greatest supporters. He wouldn’t harm her . . . would he?

  Tate walked them quickly past dilapidated buildings and closed offices, weaving them back toward the cleaner part of Washington.

  “What’s to be done?”

  “We wait.”

  Joshua stopped him with a growl. “What? Wait?” He cast a look about him and lowered his voice back to a whisper. “I’ll not sit back and twiddle my thumbs while my wife and children are in danger.”

  Tate sighed. “Have a care, Joshua. You have no other options at this point. I know for a fact it is the Knights, and I heard it on good authority that they will be contacting you within the day. They want an exchange. Your life for your family’s.”

  “I’ll do anything to free them. But the thought of those men laying a hand on any of them . . .” His voice cracked.

  Tate squeezed his shoulder. “I know. We pray. The Knights are a formidable foe, but God is greater. While we wait, we form a plan. You, myself, Father, and Zeke.”

  Joshua shook his head. “It’s me they want. I’ll not see anyone else sacrificed because of me.”

  A muscle twitched near Tate’s eye. “We rescue my sister, nephew, and niece. That’s priority number one. And we have an advantage. The congressman doesn’t know I’m aware of his true motives. If you think I’ll calmly hand you over to them without a fight, you’ve got another think coming. Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

  “Do you think she’s dead?”

  Sniffle. “Don’t say that, James!”

  The childish sob caused Cadence to startle. With a gasp, she pushed against the floor, slowly realizing her wrists were unbound. Bright-red marks marred her skin. Her muscles ached, but at least she could move.

  She blinked and took a breath when her foggy mind cleared enough to realize James and Penelope were staring at her. With a cry, she crushed them to her chest, burying her face in their hair. “Oh, my darlings. I was so afraid.”

  They cried against her, pulling her close, seeking her warmth, her comfort. After long moments, she eased them back and stroked their dirt-stained faces. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  Both of them shook their heads. James spoke through trembling lips. “We’re fine. They kept us together.”

  Penelope sobbed. “How can you say that? They called you those horrible names and kicked you over and over . . .”

  “Hush.” He silenced her and swiped under his nose with a grubby fist. “Their words only hurt me if I choose to believe them. I don’t. They’re hate-filled men.”

  Cadence cupped James’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Ain’t like it’s the first time I’ve heard it.”

  Her heart ached with the injustice thrust upon such an innocent soul. James was the gentlest boy she’d ever met, and to be treated like rubbish . . .

  She tugged him close once more and kissed the top of his head. Penelope snuggled near as they sat in the strange room. A thin shaft of light drifted down from a tiny rectangle somewhere overhead. Shelves lined with jars covered one wall. Barrels and crates filled the rest of the space. Dust coated her tongue. Cobwebs hung thick in the corners.

  “We must be in a basement of some kind.”

  James looked around. “That’s what I thought, but I can’t hear a thing outside. They drugged us before they moved us, same as they did to you.”

  She tried to puzzle out the infuriating predicament. “They must have moved us out of the city, away from the noise and traffic.”

  “Why are they doing this?” Penelope’s voice quaked, small and fragile against Cadence’s side.

  Should she tell them what she’d overheard? That the men were after Joshua? Using them as bait to lure him into danger? Her throat convulsed. No. No good could come from the children worrying themselves over such a thing.

  “God is the only one who knows for certain. He’s here, even in this filthy basement. He’s already working on our behalf.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  She stroked the terrified girl’s back. “You know how frantic Papa Gish must be, trying to find us? Papa Piper and Uncle Tate, Miriam and Louisa, little Etta . . . all of them must be worried, so I know they are praying night and day for us. When God’s children pray, he moves.”

  Penelope sniffed. “Miriam always says to pray pacifically.”

  Cadence smiled. “She’s right. I imagine if we offer up specific prayers, the Almighty will answer specifically. What would you like to pray specifically for?”

  “Dear Lord, please help us get away from these bad men. Don’t let them hurt James anymore, and help Papa Gish find us soon.”

  James cleared his throat. “And, Lord, we would be mighty obliged if you’d send us some water. Amen.”

  “Amen.” She held them tight, trying to ignore her own parched throat. Despite her fear, a murmur of peace whispered deep in her soul.

  God would see to them. To her and James and Penelope and the unborn child within her. To Joshua.

  She whispered as the children fell into slumber in her arms, “Please, Lord, let it be so.”

  Chapter 34

  JOSHUA WALKED RUTS through the rug of his parlor as the next day crept by painfully with nothing but silence from the kidnappers. Tate and Albert came over, oscillating between talk of various plans and actions and sitting in silence. More often than not, Albert could be found with his head down and eyes closed, his lips moving in silent prayer.

  Miriam shuffled about the kitchen, sniffling and bemoaning the fate of her babies and “that sweet Miss Cadence.” No matter how he tried, Joshua could not convince her to sit and rest. She insisted preparing food kept her mind occupied. More was the pity, for her sniffles alternated with grumblings about the shortage of staples due to rising food prices. Only Etta seemed unaffected by the strain. The toddler played with her toys and chattered excitedly to Tate.

  Despair shredded Joshua as the afternoon crept into eve
ning. October’s sunshine fell into twilight.

  Etta yawned and held up her arms for him. “Papa hold?”

  He fought back the stinging sensation in his eyes and picked her up. With a happy sigh, she tucked her head under his chin and snuggled against his chest. He continued his pacing, slower this time. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

  His heart snagged. Was sweet Etta to be the only family he would retain when this nightmare was over?

  Miriam walked up behind him. “You look done in, Doc. Let me take her up to her room.”

  “No. I don’t want her out of my sight—not until we hear from the madmen who kidnapped my family.”

  Miriam shot a glance at Albert, who gave her a sniff nod.

  “All right then. How about I go fetch her a blanket and you can lay her down on the sofa in here?”

  “Thank you, Miriam.”

  As she hustled to retrieve bedding, Joshua gently leaned over and draped Etta’s plump body on the couch. She heaved a deep, contented sigh in her sleep. His throat tightened. Had he ever rested that well? That free of striving? He had been pushing and working for so long, trying to prove himself—

  A hand squeezed his shoulder. Joshua turned his bleary eyes to meet Tate’s.

  “We’ll find them.”

  Unable to speak past the tears welling, he simply nodded and straightened.

  A knock sounded on the door. They froze. Joshua’s pulse tripped before he sprinted toward the entryway.

  Tate stopped him with a yank on his arm. “Wait!”

  “What are you doing? It could be them!”

  “I know. Here.”

  Joshua looked down as Tate pressed the cold steel of a pistol into his hands. With a grateful nod, he inhaled and opened the door.

  Zeke stood before him, his face a bloody mess. “Those men made contact, Doc.”

  Wincing at his friend’s wounds, he ushered him inside before shutting and locking the door behind him.

  “You look like you went ten rounds with a prizefighter. Come into the kitchen and let me get you cleaned up. Might even need stitches.”

  The big man held his side as he shuffled into the kitchen and eased into a chair with a grunt. Joshua reached for his medical bag and began pulling out bandages before moving to the sink’s hand pump and filling a bowl with water. “What happened?”

  “I was guarding the house, just like always, when I heard a footfall behind me. I turned around and the butt of a gun hit my temple.” His eyes slid closed briefly before reopening. “Nearly blacked out. As I tried to regain my balance and fight my attacker, I was suddenly surrounded by men.”

  “How many?”

  “Must have been at least nine or ten, best I could tell in the dark. There was a lot of them. Only a few of them were willing to fight with me, though. Maybe four.” His shoulders drooped. “I should have been able to stop them.”

  Joshua grabbed a rag and sat across from his friend, giving him a hard stare. “You were outnumbered by a large margin. You can’t possibly think this is your fault.” He dunked the cloth in the water and dabbed it across the first bloody cut. Zeke hissed through his teeth and recoiled.

  “Come now. If you can face down ten men, this should be nothing.”

  Zeke pulled an envelope from inside his shirt. “As I was lying there, trying to catch my breath, one of them tossed this at me and said to make sure it got to Joshua Ivy.”

  Joshua’s blood ran cold. Zeke took the rag. “I can clean my own cuts for a minute. Take a look at that letter first.”

  Hands shaking, he grabbed the envelope and slid his finger underneath the flap, pulling the single piece of parchment free. The blocky letters were as harsh and blunt as the men who had stolen his life out from under him.

  Tomorrow at midnight. Hoffman’s warehouse.

  Your life for theirs.

  Tell anyone? The boy will be sold, and your wife and daughter die.

  Ice sleeted through his veins. With a growl, he threw the missive on the table and scratched his hands over his scalp. Zeke was silent. Joshua couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Cadence, James, Penelope . . . he was helpless to protect them. What had they already endured at these madmen’s hands?

  Tate entered the kitchen with needle and thread. “Miriam said you might need these. She noticed your supply was dwindling.” He patted Zeke’s back before his gaze drifted to the abandoned note on the table. “We have word?”

  “Yes.” Joshua’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

  Tate picked up the letter and read it. “Good. Now we can form a plan.”

  “A plan?” Joshua rose, despair choking him. “Zeke said close to ten men jumped him tonight. If the Knights throw all their weight behind this, what hope do we have of saving my family?”

  Tate fixed him with a fierce look. “If it were up to us, we would have no hope whatsoever, but our hope doesn’t lie in ourselves. We’re trusting God. These men are cowards, hiding behind my sister and little children. I know them. They’re used to taking people to court to get what they want, or hiring guns to do their work for them. The more they are willing to dirty their own hands, the more scared they are. I think you and your friends have shaken them and they are lashing out, seeking revenge.”

  Joshua felt the tension in his middle relax by degrees. “You’re right. Forgive me.”

  Zeke pulled the wet cloth from his swollen eye. “So we have a time and a location. What are we going to do about manpower? I have no intention of just handing Doc over, but right now it’s only the three of us.”

  “Four.”

  Joshua turned to see his father-in-law standing in the doorway. His eyes burned with gratitude. “Albert, as much as I appreciate your courage, I have a greater task for you. I need someone I trust to care for Etta if something happens to me. The thought of her once again losing her family is . . .” His throat clamped.

  Albert nodded. “Of course. You have my word.”

  Zeke frowned. “Three or four. Neither will matter much if they show up with ten, twenty, or more.”

  Tate rubbed his chin, his scowl deep. “I agree. We need help, but it’s not like we have an army to summon up at will.”

  An idea popped into Joshua’s mind, sending a spiral of excitement through his body so strong, he nearly leaped. “I think I have an idea.”

  After a miserable night and an endless day, the jangle of keys and the click of a lock signaled the arrival of a visitor. Cadence and the children were met with the fading light of dusk when a spindly man entered, placed a bucket of water on the floor, tossed a loaf of bread beside it, and hastily left.

  Cadence breathed a sigh. “Thank you, Lord.”

  James hurried to bring the water and bread close. “I was so thirsty, I could feel myself drying out.”

  They took turns drinking handfuls until their thirst was sated. Cadence broke the loaf of bread into three parts. Penelope started to cram it in, but Cadence stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm. “Slowly. Let your stomach adjust. It will help you feel full longer too.”

  The girl groaned. “I know. It’s just that I’m so hungry.”

  “I know.”

  James lifted his face to the basement ceiling. “Thank you, Jesus, for this bread and water. You are good to us.”

  “Amen.” Cadence smiled at his sweet faith. “Say, we could turn this time into our own Paul and Silas moment.”

  Penelope’s brow dipped low. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember when Paul and Silas were locked up in the jail at Philippi? What did they do instead of moaning and complaining?”

  “They sang!”

  “Exactly. We have nothing else to do, after all.”

  James cleared his throat. “‘Amazing grace, how sweet the sound . . .’”

  They joined in, singing one song after another. When a lull ensued, Cadence leaned her back against the wall and let the words of another hymn rise.

  “Jesus, lover of my soul,

  Let me t
o thy bosom fly,

  While the nearer waters roll,

  While the tempest still is high.

  Hide me, O my Savior, hide,

  Till the storm of life is past.

  Safe into the—”

  At Penelope’s soft gasp, she stopped. The girl was staring at her with round eyes.

  “You’re her.”

  “What?”

  “The lady.”

  James snorted. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Penelope continued to stare. “You’re the lady who spoke to me in the alley so long ago when I was upset. You sang that very song to me and told me about your mother.”

  Cadence lifted her fingers to her lips. The sobbing child. The gruff man who’d interrupted them. Joshua? “That was you?”

  A tear streaked down Penelope’s freckled cheek. “I never forgot you. Whenever I’m scared or lonely, I pull out the gift you gave me and remember.”

  She reached into her pinafore pocket. Opening her fingers, she revealed a hairpin. Cadence’s mother’s hairpin.

  Penelope’s tears fell in earnest, causing Cadence’s to do the same. “I told God if he gave me that lady for a mother, I would never ask for another thing. He did and I didn’t even know it!” With a sob, she threw herself against Cadence. “I’m sorry I was so mean about the baby. I’m just scared.”

  “Oh, my darling.” Cadence wiped the tears from her cheeks while cradling the girl’s sweet face. “Why would you be scared? Nothing will change my love for you.”

  “It’s not that. I—I’m just so scared you’ll die. It happens all the time. My mother died giving birth to my brother and left me all alone until Papa Gish found me. If you died, I couldn’t bear it!”

  Cadence enveloped her in a tight embrace and rocked her back and forth. Her sobs echoed against the basement’s brick walls. James looked on helplessly.

  “Sweetheart, listen to me. This world is a sin-cursed mess. The Almighty never intended it to be such, but God can use even the bad things for good. When I was younger, I had a horrible speaking problem. I could barely utter a word without fumbling my way through it. I struggle with it still. Children at school made fun of me. Papa Piper and my mother took me to a special doctor who said I didn’t have all my faculties. I believed him for a long time, but it wasn’t true. Even though going through that was difficult, God used it to mold me into who I am today. I have much more compassion for others.”