Lost in the Mist

by Wanda C. Keesey

  "No.” The word was almost a wail. “He would have me shot as a spy."

  "I don't think he would go that far, but he could have Andrew arrested and make your life miserable,” Connie agreed. “When must you leave?” As if to answer her question the mantle clock in the parlor chimed the hour, the muffled tones interrupted by men's voices.

  Victoria went to the door and opened it a crack, listening. Connie could see the light from below in the stairwell. “He wasn't to arrive until tomorrow.” As if to answer some unasked question from Connie, she turned and explained. “An agent from the North. Evan expected him to arrive tomorrow night. Evan was to be gone all night at the House. Carpy went to be with Annabelle. With them in the house, I won't be able to get away.” The tears flowed in earnest.

  "No,” Victoria's sudden resolve startled Connie. “No,” she repeated quietly. “I will not lose Andrew.” Looking at Connie through red rimmed and swollen eyes she asked, “Will you help me?"

  "Of course.” Connie saw the toughness of the nurse who had seen the grim horrors that war can inflect on men, and the young wife who would fight for her right to help make those horrors bearable. She saw the stricken thirteen-year-old who had buried her dead sister, knowing in her heart that she hadn't been stillborn, but was murdered. As she pulled herself up and dried her eyes, Connie saw the woman who worked in a field hospital along side her friends and father, who had hidden and cared for an enemy soldier. And falling in love with him, she wouldn't sacrifice herself on the altar of family honor. Connie was proud to call this woman her friend.

  Watching as Victoria read the neat script on a piece of stiff paper, Connie knew it was a farewell message to Evan and her family. Victoria folded it in half and using the pen and inkwell at hand, she wrote one word, ‘Evan'. Placing the note on her nightstand, Victoria pulled the wedding band off of her finger and placed it on top of the note. One last tear slid to her chin. Wiping it away with her hand, she turned to the ghost from the future.

  "The words of a preacher will never bind us in marriage, but our hearts will never be separated. Andrew and I will live as man and wife and I will wear his ring.” She reached into the reticule hanging at her wrist. After a short search she pulled out a small bundle. The corners of the handkerchief where knotted to make a pouch for the small treasure. Undoing the knot with trembling fingers, Victoria took the band of intertwined metal from its place of keeping.

  Connie's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped when she saw the familiar ring.

  Victoria hadn't noticed her reaction, instead holding the band between her fingers, she started to read, “M, Your..."

  "...love holds my heart. D.” Connie spoke the words without looking at the ring.

  "We decided it would be better if I changed my name.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Connie's expression of amazement. “You're not looking at the ring. How did you know what it says?"

  Holding up her hand, Connie let Victoria absorb the implications.

  "Your ring is just like mine.” Victoria's look of surprise, changed to one of puzzlement. “You have my ring?” Victoria sat on the bed, waiting for some insight.

  Connie explained, “My ring belonged to my great, great, great grandmother Mandi Kosgrove. She was married to Drew Kosgrove and they lived a long and happy life in Cherry Grove, Pennsylvania. They had many children, one of which was to be the father of my great grandmother. The ring has been handed down and used as a wedding ring for each of its owners. They have all had happy and long marriages. They say it's good luck."

  "I am Mandi Kosgrove ... I am ... we are ... Drew and I are...” Bewilderment was replaced by a broad smile. “We are kin."

  Connie sighed, then smiled. At last the connection was made. “So it would seem.” Without saying so, she knew why the dreams were so persistent. The white dress in the photo, the woman with the big hat, it was the dress Victoria was preparing for her wedding to Evan. “Did you pack the white dress?” she asked.

  "I did, why do you ask?"

  "Never mind. You have to leave. What can I do to help?” Connie asked.

  "You can go to the steps and see if it is safe. I must hurry. We have spent so much time talking; I hope Evan is entertaining in his office.” Victoria turned to Connie. “I will miss you, daughter. I fear this will be the last time we will see each other."

  As they stood together at the door, Connie said her farewells. “I will see you, in pictures and in the face of my mother. She looks like you. When you wear the white dress, think of me."

  "I will never forget you. I will think of you as often as I look at my ring.” With a start, Victoria's eyes widened. “The journals! I have given the first one to mother with a note. She will receive them when she arrives from Richmond tomorrow. I haven't written in the second one for some time. It is in its hiding place so that you will find it in ... what year is it in your world?"

  "It's two thousand and six.” Connie watched the small woman shake her head.

  "I wish we had more time. There is so much we need to say to each other."

  Connie nodded. “I know, but it isn't to be, not if you are to make a safe exit. You can write to me, maybe another journal."

  Victoria looked up into the sad face. “I will do that; it will be given to you on your wedding day.” She reached for the doorknob and took a deep breath. “I must go."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Thirty-Seven

  Brian closed the door. The smile on his face melted when he found the room empty. No, not empty, the mist hovered next to the canopy bed. Connie was on a trip. “Damn, she couldn't wait for me to get back.” He knew he wasn't being fair. Setting the plate of sandwiches on the dresser, he stood near the bed to watch and wait.

  From the things he heard, Brian was able to piece together some of what was happening. Connie and Victoria were talking. What would she decide? Being a romantic, Brian hoped Victoria would follow her Yankee lover.

  When Connie's enshrouding cloud, went through the door, Brian followed.

  After a walk back the hallway, she went to the bottom of the steps, hovering. Was she waiting for someone, Victoria maybe, to come down?

  So the escape was under way, and Connie was the lookout.

  As they approached the library/office door, Connie stopped. He could hear her cry out, the sound hollow and far away. Whatever was happening wasn't good for Victoria and maybe a threat for Connie, too.

  * * * *

  Leading the way down the hall, Connie approached the door to Evan's office, as she reached it the voices inside grew louder.

  She cried out as the door swung open and a man stepped into the hall, with Evan close behind. For what seemed minutes, but in reality was only seconds the two men stood looking at Victoria standing in the hall, a carpet bag in her hand.

  "Ah, I see you're ready to go, my dear. Why don't you wait in my office while I see my guest out?” The words were civil enough, but Connie could see the fire of rage in his eyes and the set of his jaw. He closed the door firmly behind Victoria and leaning close to it, put a key in the lock and turned it, before following the agent. Evan guided him to the back door, so he could leave in the dark of the side street, as Victoria had planned on doing. Evan had a few parting words for the man before shaking his hand.

  Connie slipped into the room as Evan unlocked the door. Victoria was waiting for him.

  Connie was proud of her ancestor. She stood with her head high and her trembling hands hidden in the fur muff.

  "What do you mean by locking the door, sir? I will not be held captive in my own house.” Her lips were white with rage or fear, either way it should have worked in her favor, but Evan wasn't to be put off.

  "You will explain yourself, madam, and you will do it now. Where is Corporal Carpstairs? Has he gone to get your carriage, to whisk you away into the night? Were you going to leave without so much as an explanation?” Evan was in control of his emotions, but for how long? He had to be near the edge.

&nb
sp; Connie could almost see the smoke coming from the man's nostrils, but Victoria held her ground, not backing as he neared her.

  "Carpy doesn't know what I am doing. I gave him leave to pay call on a lady.” Her voice was one of reason.

  "You have deceived him as you have deceived me. Is that what you are doing?” He almost spit the words, the vein in his neck palpated with the beat of his heart. “I will deal with the Corporal later."

  "He has done nothing wrong..."

  "You will tell me how to handle my men? I don't think I need your permission to discipline one of MY men.” Raising his clenched fists, Evan released his fingers, as he seemed to try to regain control.

  Connie knew Victoria was in real danger. “Be careful, Victoria, don't push him too hard. He's on the edge.” Connie stood where Victoria could see her while she talked to her husband.

  "Can we sit and talk, Evan? I know I have a lot to explain.” Victoria reached out with her right hand. “Give me just a few minutes of your time. We haven't as much as sat down to eat together in over a fortnight. Do me this favor."

  Without accepting the outstretched hand, Evan turned his back and went to sit on the edge of his desk. Victoria sat on a straight-backed chair posed for the verbal fight of her life.

  Connie could see a trickle of sweat trace down the side of her face. She must be hot in all those clothes and that heavy cape, not to mention the fear she has to be feeling. But Connie knew that the young woman was sweating out the time as well. Would Andrew wait?

  "Of course, you are right. I am leaving you.” Putting her hand up to stop his objections, Victoria continued, “But I am leaving my parents and brother as well. I am leaving my home, my state and my country. You have done nothing to offend me. Evan, you have been a gracious and understanding husband, but I ... This has nothing to do with you, it is me."

  "Nothing to do with me? You are leaving, but it has nothing to do with me, your husband.” Standing, Evan paced the small room. “Just who does it have to do with? Do you love another?"

  Victoria's pale face grew pink with shame. “I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did."

  "Who is this scoundrel?” The pacing had stopped with the sound of her voice. Evan glared hard at her tear-streaked face.

  "Evan, I love him. If you must punish someone for this crime, then you must punish me. Not Carpy, not my love, and not yourself.” Victoria tried to stop the tears as she kept glancing at the door.

  Connie held up her hand and pointed at the small ring on her finger, and to herself, than to the door. Victoria signaled her understanding with a slight nod.

  Going out into the hall, Connie headed for the back door. “BRIAN, ARE YOU WITH ME?” she shouted. “I HAVE TO FIND ANDREW"

  Rain pelted the streets and formed puddles in the gutters. Void of stars or moon, the darkness was almost total outside the ring of light from the gas street lamps. “He's here.” Connie saw a wagon waiting as the dark horses impatient to be moving, snorted their disapproval of the weather. “He's come for Victoria.” Feeling relief at the young soldier's appearance at the house, Connie turned to go back inside and let Victoria know of Andrew's arrival.

  "Yank, nobody's here. I'm getting’ gone. Ya hear? It ain't safe. I must've been crazy to agree to this.” The drover lifted the reins.

  "No, you can't do that.” Connie spoke the words as an echo to Andrew's. The canvas moved to reveal a man under its cover.

  "She must have been delayed. You will wait. Kone, what has happened?” Drew pushed the canvas back.

  "I don't have to do anything I don't want to, and I don't want to be waiting in these streets with a Yankee in my wagon. I'm only doin’ this as a favor for my friend ... now you got this Kone person involved too."

  "Sure, and this friend is not paying you anything, right. You don't get anything out of this."

  Connie went to the wagon. The horse stomped the packed dirt road as she approached.

  "Andrew, Victo ... Mandi sent me. She was seen leaving the house. Her husband won't let her go. You have to wait for her.” The black patch looked darker than the light-less sky.

  "Perhaps you are not the spirit of death. You would bring me my life. I will not leave without Mandi, and this wretched excuse of a driver will not stop me."

  "You talkin’ to me? Ya can just stop frettin', cause we're gettin’ out of here right now.” With a slap of the reins, the horses lunged against the weight of the wagon.

  Connie didn't notice the smooth movement as Andrew pulled out a pistol. “Hold them steady, and I won't shoot you, but if you so much as move this wagon a yard, I will put a ball in your sorry head.” His words were quiet and menacing. The wagon came to a halt.

  "I must go to Mandi's aid and you will wait for us to return."

  "And just how do you think you can make me do that?” The drover was waiting for his opening to take off without his passengers.

  "I don't want to do this, but you give me no choice.” The heavy pistol came down, grazing the drover's head behind his right ear. As he slumped on the spring seat, Andrew swung himself over the side of the wagon, his left arm dangling useless at his side.

  Connie followed as he went to the locked back door. Andrew threw himself at the door several times before hearing the satisfying crack of wood as the frame gave. One last body slam and he was standing in the meagerly stocked pantry.

  Connie led him to the office. Offering a smile of encouragement, she entered the room and waited, her thoughts troubled by what could follow.

  Victoria noted her return with a start. Evan turned and looked in the direction of her stare. Seeing nothing, he returned his attention to his wife. “I will not permit you to leave. You will take your bag back to your room and unpack immediately.” Thinking that he had scored the decisive blow, Evan started to turn his back, but stopping, he faced Victoria again. “I don't understand. I have shown you love and respect. Have I not? I have never raised a hand in anger. What have I done to make you hate me?” His voice was that of a man trying to find answers.

  "My love, are you in there? I've come for you.” Andrew's shout as he knocked at the office door, caught both of the occupant's attention. Victoria smiled in anticipation, standing to meet her lover. Evan's back stiffened and his brow furrowed as he saw his wife's reaction.

  Taking a musket from its place on the mantle, he stepped to the closed door. Victoria's eyes grew wide with fear she started to cry out a warning.

  "I will surely kill the scoundrel if he is warned; otherwise, perhaps I will allow him the honor of the dueling field.” His eyes were hard, and as cold as ice, his words, though quiet, were edged with steel.

  Victoria had seen him deal with those who came to pass information to the Confederate Government. She knew he was a force not to be taken lightly. She closed her mouth and nodded agreement.

  But Evan had no hold on Connie. “Andrew, he has a gun, use care."

  The door opened slowly. Evan kept it between himself and the intruder. Seeing that the hall was empty, he turned to his wife. “So, I am not to hurt your lover, but he can wait in ambush for me. How have I wronged you, child?” Not waiting for an answer, he stepped into the hall's waiting threat.

  Andrew was shorter and thinner than Evan, but he was able to put enough force in a blow across the larger man's shoulders to knock him to his knees. As he fell the cocked musket hit the floor and slid out of reach, discharging the musket ball harmlessly into the wall.

  Without looking at his attacker, Evan surrendered. “You have me at a disadvantage, sir. Do what you will to me."

  "I have no wish to harm you. Give me the key to that room.” Andrew didn't take his eyes off of the fallen man as he accepted the brass key.

  "Go into the room, sir.” Not allowing himself to be distracted by the woman he loved Andrew followed his prisoner and directed him to the straight-backed chair recently vacated by Victoria. “Sit down,” he ordered. Glancing around the small room, he couldn't find what he needed.

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sp; Never losing sight of his captive, the Corporal turned his body toward the door where Victoria waited. “I need something to tie him up with and quickly. Someone is sure to investigate the gunfire. Maybe in the pantry. Hurry.” His instructions were obeyed without hesitation as Victoria went out the door.

  "...hope to provide for her happiness. I can give her everything she could ever want or need. You ... what do you do for a living, away from this damned war? Farm? Clerk? What? What kind of life is that for a Lady of the South? She will be hated in the North.” Seeing he was not in danger of losing his life, Evan strove to keep his wife, or was he stalling.

  "I will not argue, I love her and she loves me. We will deal with the rest as it comes. If you are concerned with your own position—"

  Evan stood so suddenly the chair he had been sitting on toppled over backwards. “My concerns are not for myself, and my position, as you infer. My concerns are for my wife. She is too young to know her own mind. She has been fooled into trusting a damn Yankee. I do not want to see her spend the rest of her life regretting this foolishness."

  "I love him.” Both men watched as Victoria entered the room. “And as he has told you, he loves me. If you are worried about my happiness, Evan, don't be. I will be happy.” She smiled at Connie.

  Righting the chair, Victoria waited for Evan to sit himself, and offer his hands to be bound behind him. Victoria tied the ropes to be easily loosened.

  Handing the brass key to Victoria, Andrew lifted the carpetbag and went to the door. “I will check on the driver and wagon. Come quickly, it is growing lighter with every minute and I can hear shouts in the street.” He tenderly kissed his bride on the forehead, nodded to Connie, and with a last glance at the beaten man they were leaving behind to answer questions, he slid into the dark hallway.

  Victoria knelt in front of the man she had married. He would not meet her eyes, his own glued to the wall behind her. “I will never forget you, Evan. You have been everything a woman could want in a husband."