by Becky Lower
Saffron slammed the lid down on him with a cackle of laughter, and he was plunged into darkness.
“Now, since I’ve spent many a ride in the hidey-hole, I’m well aware you can hear me, so I’m going to tell you what’s going on as we head out. If we encounter any patrols, you’re going to have to be quiet as a church mouse on Sunday.”
Zeke sighed softly, since he was unable to take a huge breath of air. “All right, then. Let’s get going.”
• • •
Saffron scrambled up onto the seat after she led Biscuit and the wagon out of the carriage house and closed the door. So far, she’d been undetected by her father’s servants, but the quicker she got away from the house, the better. All she needed was to have Robert, the one in charge of the carriages and horses, come after her. She’d be mortified, because he’d berate her as if she were five years old. And that was the last thing she needed in front of Zeke, the first man near to her own age she’d met in years. The man who had fallen into her lap. Into her life.
She pondered the man in the hiding place of the wagon, who she was shielding with her body by sitting on the seat on top of him, and smiled broadly. He was a handsome young man, for certain. And he was desperate. She couldn’t begin to fathom what hell he’d lived through as he’d witnessed each of his brothers die on the battlefield far from their home. What had been their names?
“Zeke, are you still breathing?”
“Yes, but not well. And do you have to hit every bump in the road? My head hurts.”
“Oh, quit complaining. I’m placing my life and reputation in jeopardy to help you. If my father ever finds out what I’ve done, or my brother, for that matter, I’ll be confined to home for the remainder of the war. And by that time, I’ll be an old, withered spinster. The least you could do is be appreciative.”
She intentionally hit a rut in the road and was rewarded with a curse from the box. The expletive brought a smile to her lips. She’d gathered up nearly all the food Jimmy had squirreled away in his quarters and now removed a peach from the knapsack she’d brought for Zeke. She bit into its juicy goodness as she drove the wagon. Some of the juice dribbled onto her chin, and she stuck out her tongue to capture it.
“So, tell me about your family, Zeke. What were your brothers’ names?”
“The oldest was Adam, then Ben, Caleb, David, and me. Why do you care about their names?”
She sniffed the air. They must be getting close to the outskirts of town, since the scent of smoke had dissipated. They’d need to be extra careful now. The best thing to do would be to keep him talking. It would keep her mind off the perilous situation they were in.
“Because I enjoy big families, and I appreciate parents with a sense of humor when naming their children. I’m assuming there are more alphabetized siblings after you?”
“Yes, there’s a passel of us. Momma and Daddy decided to start at the beginning of the alphabet, just to keep the order of their children easy for them, and see how far they got. After me, there’s Frederica, Gertrude, Hannah, and Isaiah. There may be another one or two by now, but Daddy took sick some time ago.”
Saffron’s smile grew wider as she listened to Zeke talk about his large family. She loved her own big family terribly and couldn’t conceive of losing any one of her brothers or sisters—yet Zeke had lost four of his in the space of one week. Her heart ached for him. And her mission to help him get home became of paramount importance. She’d take him as far as the Bronx, near where her sister, Jasmine, lived. He could blend into the forest there and be out of sight in no time. Her course was set.
The wagon rumbled on down the road, and Biscuit was enjoying the exercise, so she stepped smartly. A few pleasant minutes of quiet went by until her meandering mind circled back to the loss of his four brothers. She assumed Zeke had been the one to bury their bodies. Gloom overtook her as she wondered again about the horror of being in a battle. Best to find something else for his mind to dwell on, such as this jaunt into the Bronx. Saffron enjoyed the breeze on her cheeks and the thrill of excitement her adventure was causing. Zeke should feel the same sense of excitement even if he couldn’t feel the breeze. Or move his toes.
When she turned the corner in the road and spotted two uniformed soldiers up ahead, her heart stuttered. Thoughts of the breeze and what a lark this ride was evaporated in the afternoon sun. Their first test was upon them.
She leaned over and whispered in the direction of the hiding place. “Zeke, there are some men in uniform up ahead, and they’re carrying rifles. I don’t have any idea what they’re looking for, but I have to stop and talk to them; otherwise, they’ll be really suspicious. You have to stay absolutely quiet, all right?”
“Be careful, Saffron.”
She pulled the wagon to a halt and waited for the soldiers to come alongside.
“Good day, young miss.”
She nodded to the men. “And good day to you.”
“Privates McDougall and Smith, at your service. Where are you headed?”
“I’m on my way to my sister’s house in the Bronx. My father decided it would be best for me to get out of the city for a few days, until the draft riots wind down. Why are you patrolling the streets leading out of town?”
She didn’t care for the way the soldiers were eyeing the wagon. Perhaps they were on to Zeke?
“We are on the lookout for a few soldiers who decided they’d had enough of war, especially after Chancellorsville and Gettysburg. Thousands of men went missing after those battles. The draft riots are keeping men from enlisting, so we need to catch these yellow-bellies before they get away and send them back into battle. We have to keep the Union ranks up in order to end the war.”
Saffron nodded. “My brother’s job with the army is to recruit and train the new soldiers, and he has a constant struggle to find new men.”
One of the soldiers butted the wagon with his rifle. “So your father’s letting you drive yourself? That doesn’t seem likely.”
“He’s far too busy with his work at the bank. And we’ve let most of the servants go so they could join the army.”
“Still, you should not be alone on the road. A few men with rifles could overtake you in an instant.”
The men shared a glance with one another, and one made a grab for the reins.
Saffron flicked the reins so they slapped the man in his face. He recoiled and cried out, one hand on his wounded cheek.
“My brother, Major Halwyn Fitzpatrick, will be most interested in hearing of your harassment of the womenfolk who are traversing the roads, Private McDougall. Or are you Private Smith? I can’t be sure, so I may have to name both of you.”
Her eyes snapped at the pair, who stared at her, open-mouthed.
“I suggest you stand down and let me pass.”
She glared at the men, who stood still for a long moment before they backed off from the wagon and motioned with their rifles for her to pass.
The rush of adrenaline from when she first confronted the men faded, and a prickle of fear shot up her spine as she moved away from the loaded guns. She resisted the urge to shrug her shoulders, even though she could feel their eyes on her until she rounded another bend in the road. Only then did she take a deep breath.
“Zeke, we’re safe for the time being.”
“You did a good job there. For a moment, I had a feeling I’d have to jump out of the box and save your virtue.”
She laughed, but her laughter was strained. “My virtue is still intact, thank you. But that was way too close. They’re searching for deserters, Zeke. The sooner you can get away, the better.”
“I’m not a deserter, since I never enlisted to begin with. I followed my brothers as their regiment marched off, and hid in the woods until they encountered some action. Then, I took a uniform and rifle from one of the fallen soldiers and joined them in the fighting.”
Saffron shook her head at the story, which she found hard to believe. “So you were a camp follower?”
“Yes, I guess you could say so. Adam about skinned me alive when I walked onto the battlefield, but by then, we were in West Virginia, and there was no way I could have found my way home. He thought I’d be safer with him and the rest of my brothers.”
“Those men on patrol wouldn’t care one way or the other if you were enlisted or not. You are an able-bodied man, and they’re searching for anyone who can fill out a uniform.”
Zeke’s laughter caused her seat to vibrate. “So you’ve noticed I can fill out a uniform, eh?”
She straightened in her seat. “Let’s get you to safety, all right? God’s teeth, you’re wearing on my nerves.”
Any lingering doubts about Zeke and his story were laid to rest by their close encounter. He would not have been able to leave the city without her help. The army wouldn’t care if he’d been given permission to head home by his commanding officer or that he was still too young to fight. Her only concern now was for his welfare. She needed to get him to the forest in the Bronx as soon as she could. Then she’d breathe easier.
But also, she’d have to say goodbye to him, and the idea caused her breath to hitch. As quickly as he had dropped into her life, he’d be leaving it. Her heart rebelled, but her mind won out. With a sigh, she flicked the reins across Biscuit’s back. This blasted war had interfered with her life yet again. Best not to prolong things.
• • •
The wagon had come to a stop, but Saffron hadn’t issued any words of warning or danger. Or said anything at all. He hadn’t any idea what she was doing as the seconds dragged by. Were they at their final destination? It certainly seemed he had been in the cramped hiding spot for hours. Was it safe to expose himself, or should he stay put until she opened the lid of the seat? He waited in the dark, confined space for some indication of where they were or why they’d stopped.
Saffron grunted as she opened the lid, and it bounced on its hinges. Zeke brought one hand to his eyes to shield them from the harsh sun after so long in the dark, and struggled to his feet. He wobbled on unsteady legs. Saffron reached out to provide some support. Again, her touch sent a bolt of energy through his body, and he gazed into her blue-purple eyes, searching for some reassurance she had the same feeling. His experience with women so far had been nil, other than in his fanciful mind, so he couldn’t read her expression.
“What took you so long? My legs are cramping.”
“I had to make certain we were safe before I lifted the lid, Zeke.”
He shrugged out of her hands and climbed down from the wagon before he turned to assist her.
Saffron grinned down at him and fell into his waiting arms before he could even reach out and grasp her waist. Their bodies collided, and his still shaky legs became more so, not from his confinement, but from the contact with her. He set her on the ground as fast as possible, as if she were a hot ember. She backed off a pace and stood beside him, grinning. It was almost as if she could read his mind, and she could see the exploding pictures that had nothing to do with his escape and everything to do with the budding curves he’d had plastered up against his body seconds earlier.
She stared up at him for a long minute, and when she spoke, her voice had a breathy quality to it. “Well, we’ve gone as far as I can go. We’re in the Bronx, far enough outside the city so you can escape.”
Zeke stretched his body and brushed lingering hay from his clothing. He glanced around at the houses scattered on the horizon and the bank of trees on one side, and nodded his approval.
“Yes, if I head north from here, I can be home in a few days. Will you be safe getting back to your home?”
“I’ll have to take a different route from the one I took coming out here, in order to avoid running into those same guards, but yes, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you certain? Maybe I should go back with you to make sure you’re safe.”
Saffron bristled at his words. “What good would that do? You’d be back in the same position you were before we met, and this whole mad dash out of the city would be for naught. I can handle myself. Just ask Privates McDougall and Smith.”
Zeke ran a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. She certainly was one feisty girl. “What will you do now?”
Saffron drew a line in the dirt road with the toe of her slipper. “I expect I’ll do the same things I’ve been doing. Practice my embroidery, roll some bandages for the wounded soldiers, volunteer at the hospital, and wait for the ghastly war to end so I can begin to live my life. I hate it and what it’s done to our country. To my family. And to yours.” Her eyes filled with tears.
He longed to brush away the tears escaping from her eyes and cascading down her cheeks. But she’d probably recoil at his hard, callused thumbs on her petal-soft skin. “If I get home intact, what’s left of my family will be forever in your debt. I’ll find a way to repay you at some point.”
“Don’t worry about paying me back. You’ve already done so. You’ve given me the most exhilarating experience I’ve had in years. Keep to the woods and get yourself safely home, where you never should have left in the first place.”
“But if I hadn’t left home, I never would have met you.”
Her big, gorgeous eyes roamed his face before she rolled them at him again. “You do need to work on your sweet talking. You show potential, but you’ve got a ways to go to be a silver-tongued devil. Right now, your place is at your home. Maybe there’s a girl there you can practice with.”
“Thank you for helping me out, Saffron. I’ll never forget it. And I’ll never forget you.”
They stood awkwardly by the wagon for a long minute, staring into each other’s eyes.
He took a deep breath and leaned down toward her face, toward those magnificent eyes. If she rejected his advance, it didn’t matter, because he would never see her again. But he had to take a chance. The first kiss of his lifetime should be monumental, and if this moment wasn’t special, he didn’t have any idea what would be. His arms wrapped around Saffron’s waist as his lips brushed hers, tentatively at first. She tasted of peaches. When she put her arms around his neck and drew him in deeper, his kiss became more insistent, and he lingered far longer than he originally had intended. The sensation of his lips sliding along her full, velvety ones was a memory to last a lifetime. His breath came in short gasps as he continued the kiss, reluctant to break away long enough to fill his lungs. Her delicate floral scent with its hint of spice tickled his nose. He pressed her up against the wagon, delighting in how her body’s soft contours melded with his hard angles.
Finally, he backed away from her, grabbed his bundle of food from the bed of the wagon, and made a dash for the woods. But not before glancing back at Saffron one last time, to embed the image into his memory. Judging from the way she was standing, with the fingers of one hand on her lips and the other hand on the wagon as she stared at him, he reckoned it had been her first kiss, too. He hoped he’d done an adequate enough job of it so her first kiss would be something she’d always cherish. He certainly would never forget this moment.
CHAPTER ONE
New York City
September, 1866
Saffron helped herself to the breakfast food choices laid out on the sideboard before she took her seat at the family table, where her mother and father were already enjoying their morning’s repast. She popped a slice of salty bacon into her mouth before she picked up her fork to dig into the eggs, reveling in the taste of the good food. She closed her eyes in order to savor the moment. Good food, good fortune, and good times ahead, now that the war was finally winding down. Her father snapped his newspaper shut with a practiced flick of his wrist, and Saffron’s eyes flew open. When her father closed his paper, he had something to say. Something that usually involved the war, which had been a topic of conversation for years. She hoped for no more of war. It was past time to play.
“The declaration President Johnson signed last month ending the war seems to be holding. Finally, this God-awful war is finished. I had almo
st given up hope.”
“Me, too,” Saffron agreed. “I hesitate to get too excited just yet, until I can be sure the truce will hold. But now, maybe life can get back to normal. I long to wear a pretty dress dripping in lace and frills and dance at an ornate ball. I’m dying to have some fun.”
Her mother, Charlotte, patted Saffron’s hand. “Yes, of all of ours, except for Pepper’s, your life has been the most disrupted by the war. All the experiences you should have been having during the past few years have gone by the wayside. We’ll have to do something to make up for it now. You’re eighteen, past time we find you a husband. And now that the boys are all returning home, the number of available men should be picking up.”
Saffron mused. “But even in war, Pepper managed to find a new love, and her life now is as rosy as it was before the war. I won’t be so lucky. The men who are fortunate enough to be returning home are either crippled or so emotionally scarred the last thing they’re hoping for is to marry and have another obligation.”
Her father rose from the table. “There’s a big write-up in the paper about how best to bring our fallen soldiers home from the battlefields and establish national cemeteries where people can assemble to honor the sacrifice of those good men. There’s a sense of urgency to retrieve the bodies from southern land.”
Charlotte nodded. “Well, of course we need to bring our boys home and see them properly buried.”
George donned his suit jacket and took his hat from the waiting servant before he addressed his wife. “This Reburial Progam would be a good effort to get behind. Maybe you and Saffron can expand on your Sanitary Commission volunteer efforts.”
Saffron’s interest in the conversation picked up. “I have become quite the expert in the battle at Chancellorsville. Will they go field by field? Battle by battle? Because I can definitely contribute to at least one.”
Her father nodded. “I suppose so. Clara Barton has been gathering information for over a year now with her Missing Soldiers’ Office in Washington, DC. Her wealth of information is where the government will begin its efforts, according to the newspaper.”