by Ginny Dye
“Adams wasn’t big enough to even faze our nigger giant,” Clyde said coldly.
“Two men surprising him could certainly pull it off. You saw how scratched and cut he was. I believe he’s telling the truth. Besides, if he really helped the Cromwell girl escape - which I believe is completely ludicrous - what in the world would he be doing back here?”
“I don’t know,” Clyde admitted. “But I got me a feeling, Captain. And it ain’t gonna hurt none to bring him in here. The old ones might be able to pull off faking never seeing him, but these kids sure can’t.”
Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. Moses had returned to his unit and made up a story just like he said he would. She was confident in Sam and Opal’s ability to reveal nothing, but Clyde was right about one thing. Any of the other children in the quarters would have been a dead giveaway. They all worshipped Moses. But Fannie’s kids had never laid eyes on him. Barely breathing, she pressed herself against the wall and waited.
Soon she heard heavy footsteps approaching again. “Have any of you ever seen this man before?” the captain asked sharply.
“Don’t know as how I’d be havin’ a reason to know a Yankee nigger, Captain,” Sam drawled.
Carrie almost laughed out loud as she pictured his wide-eyed innocence.
“This man isn’t a Yankee,” the captain snapped. “He’s from around here.”
There was a slight pause. “Nope. Don’t reckon as how I ever seen him ‘fore.”
“What about you, woman?”
“I ain’t never laid eyes on him either,” she heard Opal say easily. “Is that man really a Yankee soldier?”
“Let’s just say he helps us with information we need around here,” the captain responded.
Clyde spoke up then. “Ask the children!” he said impatiently.
“I’ve been watching the children,” the captain responded. “I’d have known in an instant if they knew Moses. Nope, Clyde, this time you’re barking up the wrong tree.” There was a slight pause. “Moses, I’m sorry. Everyone is a little tense right now.”
“I understand, Captain,” Moses responded calmly. “What would you like me to do now?”
“How about staying in here? Maybe you can get these slaves to talk. I think they know more than they’re saying. Try to convince them we mean them no harm. Maybe they can be of some use to us.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Captain,” Moses responded instantly.
Carrie almost dissolved into laughter. The drama unfolding on the other side of the wall was better than any she had read in a book. She yearned to reveal her presence.
She stayed completely still during the long silence that followed. She knew Moses was waiting until he was sure no one was lurking around to hear his conversation with Sam and Opal. She smiled as she imagined the looks of delight on their faces at seeing their old friend. Finally they began to speak in guarded voices.
Carrie strained to hear, but Moses was talking so lowly she could only catch snatches.
“ Carrie is safe...”
“How...?
“Just know she’s safe...”
“You really ...?
“Yes... spy.”
Carrie ground her teeth in frustration at not being able to hear the conversation.
“Took me hours,” Moses said.
Carrie suddenly realized she still had no idea what time it was. It could be night for all she knew. How long had she slept? She would have to go back out to the river to be sure. She could not afford any mistakes. Tears were in her eyes when she turned away. She didn’t know when she would see her friends again. Being on the other side of the wall, while frustrating, had also been a comfort.
She held the candle high again and moved down the tunnel. She hurried past the gaping hole that led to the stable. Within minutes she was once more at the entrance to the river. She reached eagerly for the door handle and then froze. Though the thick door muffled it, she was certain she heard voices. She knelt and pressed her ear to the crack.
Was that the slap of oars on water? Were the voices so muffled because they were out on the water, not directly overhead or beside her? Carrie waited for what seemed forever. It had been a long while since she had heard anything. Finally, she could stand it no longer. She held her breath as she cracked the door open and then listened. Nothing. Bolder now, she swung the door open wide enough for her to step through. The thickness of the brush should offer her enough protection. Again only silence. Confident now, she stepped out onto the bank.
A faraway yell caused her to jerk her head around just in time to see a large boat slip around the curve of the river. Carrie stared. Was that what she had heard? Was a Union boat moving in to make an assault on the city?
Suddenly she realized the sun was almost resting on the horizon. She had slept longer than she thought, but she still had several hours before she could make her escape. She watched as the sun slipped down, kissing the river one final time before it bid adieu. Sitting down on a rock to think, she watched as night slowly claimed its dominion over the world. She was sure now her father had tried to contact her. Surely he had known of the danger advancing toward her. Something had gone wrong. He must be frantic.
Stars were twinkling in the sky when Carrie stood and walked back into the tunnel. She had decided to spend the last few hours under the barn. That way she would know if anyone came or went. Maybe it would give her some idea of how heavily guarded the plantation was. It took her only a few minutes to reach the same spot she had discovered earlier. She stood still and listened carefully. She didn’t hear voices, but that didn’t mean anything. There could be just one soldier on guard with no one to talk to.
Carrie soon realized she had no way to keep track of the amount of time passing. Then she remembered her first candle had burnt about an hour before going out. Or at least what seemed to be about an hour. This crude method would at least give her an idea. As close as she could figure, it had been about eight o’clock when she reentered the tunnel. That meant four candles would take her close to midnight.
Carrie sank down on the floor and leaned her head back against the wall. Thankfully her nap had refreshed her. She would not have to worry about falling asleep. She would continue to map out her strategy while she waited.
Carrie looked thoughtfully at the remaining candle she had stuck into the dirt on the floor. It had only an inch left to burn. It was time for her to make her move. The only sound she had heard since she settled down to wait was an occasional whinny from Granite, inquiring as to why she still had not come to let him out. The familiar sound comforted her.
She moved over to the ladder, looked up, and then tested it one more time. It looked sturdy, but if it came dislodged, she would never be able to reach the door over her head. She was still uncertain where it led, but her instincts told her it would open up into the tack room. Hitching her dress up around her, Carrie began to climb quietly. She knew the candle she had left burning would extinguish itself soon.
Carrie reached the top of the ladder. Her heart pounded as she pressed her hand against the door. It was heavy, but it moved easily enough. Keeping a tight hold on it so that it wouldn’t fall back and make a loud noise, she carefully stepped up and out into utter darkness. Now she was sure she was in the tack room. As she waited for her eyes to adjust, praying no one could hear her racing heart, she could barely make out the outline of saddles and bridles lining the walls. Quietly, moving ever so cautiously, she eased the door back down. Never, in all the years she had spent in this tack room had she guessed the secret that lay beneath her feet.
She stood completely still and listened carefully. There was not a sound. Then, moving with the certainty of familiarity, Carrie eased over to the large trunk pushed against the wall. She almost groaned at the creaking noise when she opened it. Once it was open she waited quietly again. Had anyone heard the noise? Finally, convinced there was no one close by, she reached into the trunk and pulled out a pair of her father’s riding pants
, a shirt and a jacket. She held them close to her face and breathed in sharply. The aroma of her father gave her a feeling of courage. Just a little while longer and she would be safe in Richmond with him.
Her jaw tightened when she realized how much she had to overcome to reach him. Moving fast now, she undressed and tossed her dress aside in a heap. Quickly she slipped into her father’s clothes, rolling up the pants and the sleeves to make sure they wouldn’t hamper her movement. She wished she had a mirror. She was quite sure that no matter how she looked, she would rather dress this way all the time. The freedom of movement she felt in her father’s clothes was wonderful.
Determined to make her move soon, Carrie stashed her dress in the trunk and then groped around until she found a hat. She had unbraided her hair while she was waiting below. Now she quickly piled it on top of her head and pulled the cap down over it snugly. She was hoping to pass for a man in the dark. She had thought it all through carefully. Carrie crept toward the door then pressed her ear against it. She knew there might be someone standing just on the other side, but there was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and eased out into the aisle. The time for being careful was past. Now speed was all that mattered.
Leaving the tack room door open, Carrie flew down the aisle and quickly slipped the latch to Granite’s stall. His joyous whinny was exactly what she had expected. Saddling him was out of the question. She could not afford either the noise or the time. She would have to ride bareback.
“Did you hear that?” she heard a voice ask. Soldiers must be standing just outside the door.
Quick as a flash, she slipped the bridle into Granite’s willing mouth, grabbed a handful of mane, and leapt onto his back. She leaned forward and yelled into his ear, “Run!”
Granite bolted out of his stall door. The two men who had jumped to investigate fell back, both of them yelling and cursing when Granite flew past them at the stable’s entrance.
Carrie leaned low over Granite’s neck and held tightly to his mane with one hand. She had never fallen off her horse but now was certainly not the time to start.
“Stop!” a man screamed behind her. Then she heard the crack of a rifle. Carrie leaned even lower and urged Granite on. More rifle shots rang out behind her. She heard the whistle as one flew by her head. Granite seemed to skim the ground as he raced across the pasture. Carrie knew they were clearly visible in the moonlight. Had she not spent hours watching Granite graze on moonlit nights? She was also quite certain not one of those men had a horse that could catch Granite with such a head start.
Suddenly her body rocked forward with a sharp jolt. She cried out and grabbed onto Granite’s main more tightly as pain exploded in her right shoulder. One of the bullets had hit its mark. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she crunched down closer to her horse’s neck and willed herself not to think about the fire burning in her body. She had no choice but to press on.
Shots still rang out, but they were more distant now. Carrie would have relaxed a little if she hadn’t known what was ahead. This escape through the pasture meant there was no gate to exit through. She had never jumped without a saddle and then no more than two feet. The fence racing up on them was five feet tall. Carrie gripped Granite’s mane more tightly and prayed she would make it.
Granite never hesitated. One minute he was flying across the ground; the next moment he was soaring through the air. Carrie shouted with exhilaration as he landed smoothly on the other side and continued to run. Never had she experienced such a thrill. For a moment the pain of her shoulder faded away. She had always suspected riding would be much more fun if she was dressed like a man. Now she was certain of it.
Her exhilaration lasted only a moment. She was quite sure the captain would send his men after her. She had enough of a head start to make it to the hidden trail, but only if she pressed on. She slowed Granite to a fast trot and scanned the woods along the road. Minutes later she found the landmark she was looking for. She waved her hand jauntily as she eased Granite into the woods. She went no more than a hundred feet before she pulled him to a stop, wrapped her arms around his neck, and talked to him quietly. She also reached up and felt the warm blood running down her back, soaking her father’s shirt. She had to do something. But not yet.
Minutes later she heard what she was waiting for. Rapid hoof beats were faint at first then became louder as they drew close. Carrie held her breath as she waited for them to pass. Only then would she press on.
Suddenly the horses stopped. “We couldn’t have just lost her like that,” she heard the captain yell in a frustrated voice.
“Didn’t look like no girl on that horse,” one soldier protested. “Whoever raced off on that devil looked like a man. Sure as heck rode like one.”
“I don’t care what it looked like!” the captain snapped. “I caught a good look at them as they raced across the pasture. There isn’t a man in this country shaped like that. No, men, we’ve been outwitted by a woman!”
Carrie grinned to herself in the darkness as she stroked Granite’s neck and willed him to stand still.
“What do we do now, Captain? Keep on looking?”
“I’m afraid our efforts would be futile. You heard what Adams told us. There are trails through these woods that nobody but locals know about.” He paused then continued bitterly, “For all I know she’s listening to us now.”
“Want us to shoot some bullets into the woods?” one voice called cheerfully.
Carrie wondered if she should risk revealing her position by allowing Granite his head in a dash through the woods.
The captain’s next words reassured her. “Don’t waste the bullets, men. We don’t really need Miss Carrie Cromwell. It was her horse I wanted. If she is in there, you could risk shooting that fine animal. I don’t want that. She outwitted us this time.” His voice was amused. “We won’t always win the game.” Then he paused. “That was one of the finest pieces of riding I ever witnessed. I still can’t believe she jumped that fence. And bareback! Good Lord!”
Carrie grinned again. She had a feeling in different circumstances she would have liked the captain.
“Let’s go, men. Carrie Cromwell has her horse, but we have her plantation, her slaves, and all her crops. We haven’t done too badly.”
Carrie’s grin disappeared as the triumph of her daring escape evaporated. The captain was right. They hadn’t done too badly.
It took only minutes for her to be assured she was alone once more. Only then did she slip her father’s shirt off and rip a large piece off with her teeth. Granite stood quietly. Carrie gritted her teeth as she wrapped the heavy cloth around her neck and under her armpit. She pulled tightly, wincing at the pain, until she was sure there was sufficient pressure to staunch her shoulder’s bleeding. She shook her head to push away her lightheadedness and pressed her lips together in determination.
She gave Granite his head, knowing he would follow the trail they had entered on. She would be in Richmond by morning.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Carrie moved slowly but steadily all night. Only twice had she been forced to emerge from the protection of the woods to travel on main roads and then only for a few minutes before she ducked back onto another hidden trail. She had gradually relaxed as she rode along. She had not heard anything other than animals and had not encountered another living being. She would be in Richmond in a couple of hours. Just as the sun was coming up.
Suddenly a crashing in the bushes alerted her. Granite snorted and threw his head up in protest. “Easy,” Carrie whispered quietly. Granite planted his feet and refused to budge another inch, his eyes riveted on the clump of bushes in front of them. Carrie stared wide-eyed at the bushes. What was there? She knew it was something, or someone, but it was too dark to see anything.
She summoned her courage and spoke sharply. “Who goes there?” She tried to make her voice deep.
“I’m a Confederate soldier, ma’am,” a voice came back
to her. “You ain’t got no reason to be afraid.”
Carrie sagged in relief. Whoever he was, he surely didn’t sound dangerous. “What are you doing out here?”
“Trying to figure out how to get to Cromwell Plantation, ma’am.” The voice grew a little more hopeful. “It’s real important I get there, ma’am. Can you tell me how far it is? I kind of got turned around.”
“Why do you need to get to Cromwell Plantation?” Carrie demanded. Maybe this was just another trick of some kind. Her heart started beating rapidly again as she imagined a Yankee soldier laughing derisively and striding out of the bushes once she had revealed her true identity. “And why are you hiding in those bushes?”
There was a slight hesitation and then he spoke again. “Can’t really come out of these bushes, ma’am. I’m right embarrassed to say so, but I’m afraid I ... I only... Well, you see, ma’am…,” he finally blurted out, “I only got underwear on.”
“What?” Carrie exclaimed. “Why ever for?” Her confusion deepened. Why in the world was a Confederate soldier roaming around in the woods with only his underwear?
“I had a run-in with a good-for-nothing slave hunter,” he said bitterly. “He knocked me out. Then he stole my uniform and my horse.” He paused. “When I came to, I guess I was still a little fuzzy. Somehow I got all turned around.” Then his voice grew a little desperate. “But I got to get to Cromwell Plantation. It’s real important.”
“Why?” Carrie asked bluntly. Her heart was telling her she could trust whoever was in the bushes. He sounded young and very vulnerable. His voice was also oddly familiar.
“My lieutenant sent me on a mission. That’s really all I can tell you.”
Carrie had a sudden wild thought. “Might that be Lieutenant Robert Borden?”
There was a sudden rustling in the bushes. Then a shocked voice. “You know my lieutenant, ma’am?”