He didn’t begin to understand Ellie’s strange withdrawal from him but attributed it to the lateness of the hour and everything he had shared with her that day. She would need some time and space to process everything. The farm and the work would keep his mind off her. Maybe she would change her mind and ask him to stay, but he had to be prepared if she didn’t. Could be she realized having him around was too big a risk to her own safety.
Libby pawed the ground when she saw the bag of oats he was preparing. The horse’s happy crunching didn’t cover the low mewling that came to his ears. He stilled. The runaways must be making their move through the field to the springhouse.
If prayer changed things, he prayed for freedom for the couple and their baby to come. He’d often given thought to the things he and his friends held dear and the way of life that called upon them to fight to preserve what was familiar. Many of his unit struggled between the knowledge that they fought for the entire South, even as their homes and hometowns struggled to survive.
Thoughts of home brought an ache and anger, but he let them go. Had to. Did he have a right to be angry at the destruction when he had deserted? He hadn’t fought so much for his home state’s right to have slaves as much as his right to have a home unsullied by war.
Theo spread a layer of hay in the stall next to Libby’s and stretched out. A piece jabbed him in the cheek as he turned his head to get comfortable and raised his arms to pillow his head. His muscles relaxed, but his mind raced with problems, and every problem seemed to lead to Ellie’s image burned in his mind, beautiful and kindhearted. And alone.
Like him.
At some point in the night, he was startled awake. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and blinked into the darkness. Used to a nightmare waking him, he recalled nothing remotely frightening tearing away his sleep. On the edge of his awareness, though, he recalled something.
He rose to his knees then to his feet, moving quietly lest he miss whatever sound woke him. Libby remained quiet in her stable, a lone ear pricked in his direction as he moved through the barn.
He pushed the wooden bar back and swung the door out enough to slide through the opening. Cold swept over him, stealing his breath. Stars shone brightly from the heavens. Everything seemed still and in its place.
Theo turned in the direction of the springhouse. Though he couldn’t see it from the barn, he wondered if the runaways were doing well. Maybe the woman had given birth and the sound of the baby had woken him. He frowned. No, that didn’t seem quite right.
Frustrated, he ducked back inside and settled down in the hay, still warm from his body.
twenty-one
Ellie woke with a headache and a vague feeling of unease. She pulled herself up in bed and squinted into the blush of light coming through the eastern bedroom window. Everything rushed back to her in a flood. Martin’s letters. Uncle Ross’s persistence. Theo’s suspicions about her uncle. And thoughts of Theo brought other memories. The intensity of his gray gaze on her. The way he had said she didn’t make him feel like a child. His silly grin down at his arm where she had clutched it while insisting that Libby needed hitched. How her breath caught at the sight of him.
Infatuation. He was a man. She was a woman. And she was alone.
Confused by what it all meant, Ellie leaned to grab the letters on the table beside her bed. She fingered the paper, its stiffness and smooth texture, but it was Martin’s bold script that mesmerized her. She expected the sting of sorrow at the sight, surprised when the emotional tidal wave did not come. She sifted through each of the letters, sad that she would never be able to say good-bye to Martin and that she would never hear his booming laughter again.
She went over the passages that referred to Uncle Ross, puzzled by the changes in her uncle. He had been by her mother’s side as the months had drained away her strength. Yet Ellie couldn’t deny that even her mother seemed unsure of Uncle Ross before she died.
One occasion in particular rose from dusty memories. About a week before her mother had slipped into unconsciousness, Uncle Ross had stayed with her the entire day. Ellie never knew what they talked about, but she did know that her mother was troubled. “He is not the brother I once had,” had been the simple comment.
At the time Ellie hadn’t thought much of her mother’s observation, but now, in light of Martin’s letters and Theo’s revelation, she recalled other things. Her mother’s agitation. Her desire to see Alex Reeves, her attorney. The general exhaustion in her mother’s face and the red-rimmed eyes. Perhaps the most telling element of all was that Uncle Ross never returned to see her mother again, even avoiding the funeral with a wire that he was up north.
Muddled with all the problems on her plate, Ellie determined to get up and moving. She would check on Rose and baby Colin, then. . .
What?
Theo’s face flashed in her mind, and she wondered if he would have everything he needed for repairs. Even if he did, it might be a good thing to check on the runaways. If the woman had given birth, she might need some things, though she doubted Martha would have allowed the woman to leave her ever-watchful eye without supplying her with the basic needs.
Her thoughts toiled and tumbled over each other as she washed and dressed. She scrambled eggs, and the yellow and white mass matched her mindset. She sat to eat and bit her lip when she thought of Martin sitting in the chair across from her all those months ago. Then Theo’s presence. She shook away the images and hurried through her breakfast. After finishing, she prepared a fresh mound of eggs and a slice of ham for Rose to eat.
When she slipped into Rose’s kitchen, though, her friend was busy at the stove, the smell of bacon and coffee hanging in the air.
“You’re up!”
Rose turned, her house dress swirling around her legs. Her eyes were bright and her smile relaxed. “I was so tired of being in bed I thought it best to get up and move around. And I was hungry.”
Ellie raised the covered plate. “I brought you scrambled eggs and a nice slice of ham.”
Rose’s laughter trilled across the room and she pointed to the plate beside her on the counter. It held a mound of eggs and four strips of bacon. “I’ll probably eat both plates.”
Happy to see her friend in such good spirits, Ellie picked up baby Colin from his cradle while Rose, true to her word, polished off both meals. “If I continue to eat like this, I’ll be twice the size as when Robert left.”
Ellie rubbed her finger down the soft cheek of Colin’s face. “Robert would be so glad to see you, he wouldn’t care.”
“He might if he has to buy me a wardrobe of new dresses.”
There was a hope in Rose’s words that had been missing lately. “Have you had news?”
Rose leaned forward to gather Colin into her arms. “No. But I’ve prayed and felt such a peace over it all that I’m certain he’ll be home.”
Ellie had felt the same way for so long. Then the news of Martin’s death had shaken her. Hard.
“Where’s Theo?”
“Out at the farm doing some repairs.”
“Are you going out to see him? He’s probably hungry. Take a plate for him.”
Ellie thought Rose’s tone had a suggestive lilt, but when she glanced at her friend, she was busy rearranging the blanket around Colin. “I had thought about making sure he had all he needed for the repairs.” Food hadn’t occurred to her for a minute. She would make a number of sandwiches and take some apples over to him. After that he would have to fend for himself.
“Are you still thinking of selling to your uncle?” Rose lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted his back.
“Why, no, of course not. I’ve never given it serious thought. It’s only that Uncle Ross is so stubborn that he won’t take no for an answer.”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Does Theo like it out there?”
Ellie thought it a strange question. “I don’t know.”
“It’s
safer for him at the farm.”
She had to concur.
“You’re lonely without him.”
Ellie sucked in a breath and met her friend’s steady gaze. “Rose,” she breathed, “I’m a widow.”
Her friend’s lips curved into a soft smile. “You’re a woman first, Ellie. And Martin would want you to love again.”
“I could never think of Theo in that way. He’s my cousin.”
Rose’s smile grew wider. “Only by marriage, and I think you’ve been thinking of him that way since he arrived.”
Ellie gulped air and shot to her feet. “How could you say such a thing?”
Rose pulled Colin from her shoulder, looking not the least bit flustered by Ellie’s protest. “Because I’m a woman, and I’ve seen him look at you that same way.”
“Rose!” was all she could say in protest.
Her friend widened her eyes mockingly. “Ellie!”
“I don’t believe this. I made a vow to Martin to love him and honor him. How could you think. . . ?”
Rose was nodding. “It’s true. You’ve kept your vows.”
Ellie stilled, mollified.
Rose’s smile was back. “But you forgot a very important detail.”
A protest rose to Ellie’s lips.
“ Till death do you part. He’s gone, Ellie.”
All the air left Ellie’s lungs, and she flopped back in the chair, shaken by her friend’s words. She loved Martin. Theo could never take his place, but Rose’s other suggestion niggled at her. Did Theo really look at her in that way? Beyond admiring his eyes and admitting how much nicer he looked clean shaven, had she thought about him in that way?
She stiffened, appalled at the plunge her thoughts had taken.
“Martin would want you to move on and be happy again. I can’t think of anyone better than his best friend.”
Ellie spat a sigh. “What are you trying to do?” Her eyes sheened over. “How can I just—”
She jerked to her feet.
Rose stood as well, a stricken expression on her face.
Ellie shrugged past her friend and out the back door. The sobs built in her throat. She hurried across the porch to her door and slammed it open, the first tormented cry ripping from her throat.
❧
The knock on the door grew louder, and Ellie wondered at her visitor’s determination. Uncle Ross could knock until he fell over; she wouldn’t answer. It couldn’t be Rose since she was on her feet and obviously feeling better.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling in her bedroom as another knock echoed up the stairs. It must be serious. Maybe Rose had taken sick. Or Colin. Unable to stand it another minute, Ellie hurried down the stairs and to the back door, throwing it open.
Martha stood there, her black face tense, her eyes solemn. “How’s that man’s finger doing?”
She hardly had time to stand aside before the woman pushed by her. This was not like Martha. Something was going on and she was using Theo’s broken finger as a diversion in case she had visitors. Ellie gave the door a shove and faced her friend. “It’s safe. Uncle Ross is not here.”
Martha nodded. “One of the conductors was caught. Most of the people got away. They were sent here, but there’s no room for them.”
“Theo is at the farm, and Uncle Ross is staying elsewhere tonight. The cellar would work.”
But Martha was shaking her head. “You don’t understand. There’s great risk. These people were almost caught and might still be followed. It’s dangerous to have them in town.”
“The farm?”
“It’s what I hoped you might be offerin’. There’s eight of them.”
“Eight!” Panic edged up Ellie’s spine. They would never be able to get eight people into the concealed part of the wagon.
“They’ll do what needs done. You know that.”
She did know that. She had heard stories of blacks huddled in crates, enduring all manner of rocky roads and dusty trails, not to mention stifling heat, freezing cold, and awkward positions, if it meant gaining their freedom. “When?”
“Not tonight but tomorrow. We’ll use the usual signal. Do you think that man will help us, and can he be trusted?”
“Theo?” Ellie realized with a sinking heart that the situation was dire. Even if she didn’t want to see him again and rebelled at the idea of taking food over in light of Rose’s observations, the decision to see him was being taken out of her hands. She would have to make the trip now. To trust him for help and secrecy. Why did that make her afraid? Ellie ran her hands down the front of her dress then raised her chin. “Yes. I’ll talk to him, and I’ll leave the signal tonight if all is well.”
Martha’s dark eyes snapped to a point beyond Ellie’s shoulder.
Ellie’s flesh raised, and a cold chill breathed against her skin.
Martha’s words came out slow and distinct. “You change his bandage and apply the poultice.” Though Martha spoke of Theo’s fingers, her eyes signaled caution to Ellie. The woman mimed for her to open the door as she continued. “You checked on Miss Rose?”
Ellie nodded that she understood and put her hand on the doorknob. “She was up and about at breakfast. She said she felt good, and Colin seemed content.”
Martha dug her hand into an apron pocket and held out a small package. “I made up some more poultice for his fingers.” She pressed it into Ellie’s hands and gestured for her to open the door.
Ellie realized with a sinking feeling that the door had not caught when she went to shut it, but the greater horror gripped her as she swung the door inward to reveal her uncle Ross standing on the porch, his stony gaze broken suddenly by a huge smile. “Good evening, Ellie.”
twenty-two
“I was just leaving, Uncle Ross,” Ellie blurted. His smile didn’t wilt a bit, and that in itself heightened Ellie’s nerves. Steeling herself, she turned to Martha and floundered for the direction of the conversation before she had opened the door to Uncle Ross.
Martha pointed to the small parcel. “Listen good, now. Apply it to his fingers and wrap them tight.” She pushed forward and Uncle Ross fell back a couple of steps to let Martha by, acknowledging her with the merest nod.
Ellie dreaded what it was he might have heard. She dared to pray that God would protect their deeds from Uncle Ross.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” His smile seemed forced now. “I wasn’t sure you would be home, though I’m glad you are. Is Rose doing well?”
Ellie struggled with how to react. Should she show her irritation at his interruption, or would that anger him? Yet she couldn’t quite find the strength to be the dutiful niece. “Rose is fine,” was all she could manage.
“If you would invite me in, I would like to talk to you.”
She tried a smile to match his own. “As I said, I was just leaving.”
“But your wagon isn’t here. I checked.”
The knowledge angered her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see what right you have to be in my barn.”
His smile fell into a firm line. “I was looking to assure myself that you might be in. When I didn’t see your wagon, I assumed you weren’t. I’m certainly glad I didn’t leave right away.” He took one step closer to her. “I think I must have offended you somehow. In my diligence to offer my services to help you at this terribly hard time in your life, I overstepped myself and made it appear I thought you incapable of managing.”
The farm. It was always about the farm. Staring into his face, she saw vestiges of the kindhearted man she’d known since a child, and the slightest doubt crept in that Theo might have been wrong.
“You’re a very capable young woman, just as your mother was quite capable. The truth is, my dear—” He paused and glanced around, as if embarrassed. For the briefest moment his eyes landed on Martha as she cleared the gate that led back to her home. “I have a very fond place for the old farm. I would like to manage the rents for it and, if you would consider it, perhaps carve out a
couple of acres for myself. It would please me greatly to be close to family again. You are all that I have left.”
Ellie hesitated at the earnestness in his eyes. Touched by his sincerity, she reminded herself that he was all she had left as well. In the lines around his face, she could see the family resemblance. Her mother’s cleft was her uncle’s as well as her own. And living at the farm had been her dream when the promise of children had been alive. Martin’s death changed all that. Other than her own memories of the place, there was no longer a reason to hold on to the land. The crops had been ruined from the battle. She could notify the farmers that rented the land that it was being sold.
But still Ellie hesitated. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She couldn’t totally dismiss Theo’s story. Martin had been Theo’s cousin and best friend. What would be the point of his making up such a thing? Her stomach twisted with stress. Who did she believe? If she told her uncle Theo’s story, would he simply laugh and deny the charge, or would those dark eyes become murderous?
She wrapped her arms around herself to mask the shudder of fear.
Uncle Ross shifted his weight and placed his forearm against the door frame. “It is a chilly night. Look, I can see that you need some time. It just so happens that I’ll be here a little longer than I thought. Why don’t I come by tomorrow evening and we’ll discuss more of the details.”
Her stomach tightened. She wondered if he had heard the conversation between her and Martha. Wondered if the extension of his time in Gettysburg was connected somehow to what he’d heard if he’d been listening at the door.
But he wouldn’t know about her activities. How could he? Besides, he was a Northerner. Surely he would sympathize with what she was doing. If he had heard, they still had no choice but to go forward with their plans. With the number of blacks needing to be hidden there was no way they could use the cellar. Martha would know that as well. It had to be the farm. Uncle Ross wouldn’t harm them.
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