Summer Rose

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by Caroline Hartman


  He removed his great coat and laid it over the arm of a chair.

  “May I fix you a brandy, Colonel St. Clair?” asked Mrs. Mason. “We have more of that Remy Martin Napoleon you liked so much.” She sat on the sofa beside him, her leg pressed against his thigh. Tonight, she wore a red satin dress with a wide gold belt and some exotic perfume with a hint of cinnamon. “Have you ever been with a child?”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  “No?” Her honey voice possessed a musical quality. “Take your time, Colonel, there’s no rush. She likes to be fondled, petted. She’s very sweet and will do anything you ask.” She giggled. “Make it a game. I told her about your wild goose. She’ll love it. She likes to play. We’ve placed silk ropes on the bed, so you can restrain her if need be. However, if you’re patient and kind, she cooperates very well.”

  The Remy Martin backed up in his throat.

  Pearl picked up the black velvet bag he’d placed on the table in front of the couch. The coins jingled.

  “There are jars of creams and ointments beside the bed. I’m sure you can figure that out, or, if you’d like, Cal or I can stay with you and assist. If you run into trouble, there’s a bell pull beside the bed. I’m sure you understand. It’s important to us that our patrons don’t hurt the girl.” She stroked the velvet bag of coins. “She’s our little golden goose.”

  Pictures he didn’t want to see materialized in his head and he nodded stiffly, still afraid to speak. He took another drink of the brandy and cleared his throat, thinking about the money.

  “I suggest you leave the gold on the table until we complete our transaction. I’ve shown my intentions.” He grinned, and it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “Now I need to see yours. Where’s this angel you praise so highly?”

  She rose and tugged the bell pull. A few minutes later, the largest and blackest man Hal had ever seen entered the room. Carried in his massive arms, dressed in a blur of pink silk, was a child, eyes closed. Her blond hair hung halfway to the floor, so silky straight it appeared to have been ironed. Pain arched in Hal’s chest. The child was heartrendingly beautiful, and so, so vulnerable.

  Hal glanced up at the man. Hal stood six foot, two inches and thin as a nail. This bruiser towered over him and quadrupled Hal’s mass. What caught his attention, however, wasn’t just his size or his purple-black skin, or even his tailored tuxedo, but the man’s ingratiating expression. It held no softness, no tenderness at all. He stopped in front of Hal and bowed, offering the girl as if she were a tray of desserts. Take this little Crepe Suzette! Or perhaps the Warm Cherry Tart! The man showed not a smidgen, not a speck of remorse or protectiveness toward the child.

  “Lay her on the bed, Calvin,” said Mrs. Mason then smiled at Hal. “Unless you want me to stay, we shall leave you now.” She backed out of the room.

  As the door closed he stuffed the gold inside his tunic, dug the socks out of his coat pocket, and walked to the bed. He sat gently beside the child.

  This girl was what? Eight? Nine? Now she looked up, her pupils large and black as Spanish olives. They followed his every move.

  He used his softest voice. “I’m going to put these warm socks on your feet.”

  It took some doing, for her feet flopped about like half-dead carp, numbed by the drugs. She was obedient and sat up when he wrapped the cape around her shoulders. “I’m going to pick you up and hold you over my shoulder. It’s very important that you stay quiet. Can you do that, Liza?”

  She nodded as if she understood agreement was expected of her. He fitted her over his left shoulder and opened the door an inch and peered out. He expanded the inch and surveyed the upstairs hall. Gas sconces cast shadows along the open stairwell, but no one was in sight. He heard only a thump from the floor above. So far, so good, he thought. He felt the girl’s head pop up, and he patted her back with the hand that held her.

  “Keep your head down, sweetheart,” he whispered. He stepped into the hall, keeping his back to the wall, barely daring to breath. Gently, he closed the door behind him and approached the stairs.

  From his left, Calvin burst out of a doorway. Hal shot him between the eyes and the girl screamed. The stairwell filled with the earsplitting boom of his Remington pistol. Hal had made the decision to shoot Calvin the minute the big man had bent before him, offering the girl. Now the giant crumpled and fell backwards through the banister, careening through the air. His huge arms stretched out, and the sounds of wood splintering and glass breaking saturated the open space to the room below. A sickening thud jarred the house as his body landed. Liza stopped screaming and buried her head in his neck. From the third floor a male voice let out a string of expletives and a door slammed hard.

  Another latch clicked as Mrs. Mason slipped into the hallway, her expression furious. Her eyes, manic, locked onto his. She swung both arms up and pointed a two bullet derringer at him.

  “Put the girl down.” Her breath came in ragged heaves and shook her shoulders. “Take your Yankee gold, you son of a bitch. I’ll kill her before I let you take her.” Her beautiful face contorted into something evil, her voice softened. “You see, Colonel, she’s my little golden goose. Come to Mama, darling.”

  The child turned, stretching her arms toward the woman. Hal saw a shadow move along the wall behind her and breathed easier.

  “Your little golden goose, Mrs. Mason, is going to cook yours. You know, I was almost thinking of you as human until I saw all those jars and creams.” Something raw opened inside him and the urge to kill her roared through him. His breath sucked with a rasp. “How could you? She’s a child.”

  Pearl spit at Hal, and her breath came in short little bursts. Her voice reverted to its deep Southern accent. “You frequent brothels, pay for women, and you need to ask? How could I? You know nothing, Sir.” Spittle sprayed his face. “What has happened to this child is nothing. You … you have no idea.”

  So consumed by rage, Pearl didn’t see Daniel slide in behind her. As he inched the last few steps, Pearl screamed, “I said put her down, you son of a bitch!”

  Daniel reached around and slammed her wrist against the wall, then trapped her arm against her body, immobilizing her. He pressed his revolver into her spine and her tiny gun thudded onto the carpet. He kicked it behind him.

  “You broke my wrist!” she screamed.

  Jack and a sergeant, who had been waiting out of sight, thundered up the stairs, handcuffs ready. They dragged her, fighting and screaming, down to the landing. When she saw Daniel’s face, she snarled.

  “You! You have no idea what you have unleashed.”

  Daniel turned toward the little girl. She’d hid her face in Hal’s collar; terrified sobs shook her small body. He softened his voice. “Take her down to Summer Rose, Hal. She’s waiting just outside the service entrance. Use the kitchen stairs. This child doesn’t need to see this.” He motioned to the sergeant and nodded toward Mrs. Mason. “Find her a cloak. The prison’s cold.”

  Daniel ordered troopers to the top floors to quiet the prostitutes and patrons. He sent others to check every room.

  Laughing horribly, Pearl Mason plopped down on a step. She glared at Hal, then Jack, then back to Daniel. She hissed. “Your father won’t like this, Danny. He’ll be disappointed in you.”

  An iron ball settled in his gut and he tasted rust in his mouth. As a soldier he’d learned how to concentrate on the minute, and he did so now. Thoughts of his father and the extent of his possible involvement he buried deep in his mind. He ignored Mrs. Mason. She turned to Hal, glaring at him as he stepped cautiously past her.

  Her upper lip curled. “I curse you, Hal St. Clair. You will die and I’ll spit on your bones, you bastard.”

  Still reeling from the comment about his father, Daniel almost lost control. He wanted to knock her into next week. He knew how to hurt her. “Any spitting you do won’t be at Hal, Mrs. Mason. The guards at the prison are men in Liza’s father’s company.”

  Her face collapsed
, and she glared at him. “I was just making a living.”

  “Selling children? I hope you rot in Capitol Prison.”

  “I won’t rot for long. You’d be surprised at the people I know in high places.”

  Summer Rose, already mounted on Chester, waited just outside the kitchen door. Hal stepped into the frigid air and carefully managed the porch steps. The snow crunched beneath his boots. He lifted the girl off his shoulder then kissed the top of Liza’s head.

  “You’re safe, honey.”

  He handed her up to Summer, who settled the girl in front of her. She tucked the girl inside her cape, tight against her body then pulled the hood up over her own head. She fitted one of the small saddle blankets around the girl’s legs. She looked down at Hal, her face radiant. The girl was safe.

  “I see you used the socks.”

  Hal nodded, unable to speak. Summer Rose looked back toward the house and Hal’s gaze followed hers. The door was open, and they watched the sergeant force Pearl, dressed in her red satin dress with a black cape over her shoulders, into a kitchen chair. She glared at Summer Rose.

  CHAPTER 32

  ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

  Daniel found them several hours later, snug in the middle of two pulled-together cots at Harewood Hospital. Ray had directed him after telling him the girl would be fine, at least physically. Daniel removed his shirt, boots, and holster, and stuffed them under the bed. He lay down, curling his body alongside his wife. He fixed the covers and leaned over Summer’s shoulder and touched the child’s arm.

  His throat ached with the knowledge of what he’d seen. They’d found the secret room. It wasn’t a room at all, but rather a drawer in a trunk in a storage room. He couldn’t imagine this little girl stuffed in that drawer, though undeniable evidence gave them reason to suspect it. Inside the drawer was a small blanket and pillow, with a few strands of long golden hair on it. They found scratch marks, cut by her fingernails, around the inside of the lock, and a small dirty doll in the back of the drawer. He took the doll out of his trouser pocket and placed it on the bed at Liza’s fingertips.

  People like Pearl Mason must have something missing or broken in their brain. He hoped they’d keep her locked up for years. In the drawer above Liza’s little prison, they’d found Pearl’s bookkeeping: several small, passport-size notebooks, each with a name on the cover: Jenny, Naomi, Ruby, Jimmy, Camilla, Joe-boy, Teddy, Liza. Jack had handed him the one with LIZA printed in neat black letters on the cover. Daniel spent a long time studying it, figuring out what the numbers and notations revealed. Pearl had paid $2000 for the child. A hefty price, but the return had been significant.

  In meticulous columns, Pearl showed how she’d made $6600 in gold from this golden goose. “Add it up,” Jack said. “Eight years old and she’s been used by, at the very least, thirty-three men.”

  After each $200 entry were initials. Daniel made a decision not to look at them, terrified he might recognize some of them. Pearl knew a lot of damaging information, but he couldn’t handle thinking about that tonight.

  Jack scooped the other notebooks into a briefcase. He picked up one and pointed to the date on the outside of the cover. “Other children, long gone, dead, or grownup.” Daniel heard him suck in a chest full of air. “The curse of childhood: growing up.”

  Irene Wood found clean clothing for Liza, dressing her in a pretty calico dress with a wine red corduroy jumper and a long warm coat of navy wool. Before eight o’clock in the morning of Christmas Eve, Liza’s parents came with a closed carriage and took her home.

  Overnight, warm air had pushed out the frigid temperatures. Now the sky misted and spit, the ground becoming a mass of melting snow and mud. They all stood outside the barracks and waved goodbye, so happy she could be a little girl on Christmas Eve with her family tonight. Jack rode up at the last minute and pulled Daniel aside.

  “The President sends his thanks. He’s grateful.” He handed an envelope to Daniel. “I wanted to let you know that General Grant will be given the command of the entire Union Army. He’s on his way to Washington shortly. You and Hal will be assigned to General Sheridan in his Army of the Shenandoah and posted near Harper’s Ferry.

  “Phil Sheridan is a good commander. He’s a little wild, but all good cavalrymen are wild.” He snorted. “Look at you and Hal. You’re both crazy. You’ll learn from General Sheridan. If the war lasts long enough, and you don’t do something stupid, you’ll probably end up with a star.

  “I’ve made some arrangement for you and Hal to give recruitment speeches while you wait for specific orders. I’m sending you out toward Harrisburg; I’ve made up a schedule. Three year enlistments are up this spring and our ranks will be depleted. I’ll write you the details.”

  His gaze travelled to his sister, who was laughing with Irene, looking lovelier than ever. “Take Summer home to Camelann as soon as possible. She likes to plan her garden and plant onions early. She starts seeds in jars on the windowsills, too. Da always meant to build her a little greenhouse. Let her fix up the place for Fanny. Also, I wanted to let you know a number of nearby farms are for sale. You and Hal should take a look at them. The war won’t last forever. Veterans will want to marry, and they’ll make good tenants.” He nodded. “Summer Rose has some gold, but don’t pay over two dollars an acre.”

  Hal rode up and dismounted, and Jack handed him an envelope as well. “Your orders. I know Fanny can’t travel yet, so I ask that you stay here until she can. I could use the help. Ray told me she should be feeling better in a few weeks.”

  He saluted both men. Summer Rose strolled toward them and tucked her arm through Daniel’s. He turned and kissed the top of her head.

  “I have a horse you can have, Summer,” said Jack. “You’ll love her. She’s a fine little mare named Matilda. Her markings are unique. I’ll bring her by the house.”

  Jack put one foot in the stirrup and was about to swing himself into the saddle when Daniel put a hand on his shoulder. “Who the hell are you, Jack McAllister?”

  Jack smiled the damnedest smile. “I’m many things. I am, as far as you are concerned, Summer’s brother. Take good care of her. She’s the only family I have.”

  PART THREE

  SUMMER’S VALLEY

  CHAPTER 33

  HOME SWEET HOME

  Because Fanny caught a miserable cold and Summer stayed to care for her, they didn’t leave Washington until a few days before Valentine’s Day. As they boarded the Lancaster train, Daniel told her, “Your brother has me giving recruitment speeches throughout south central Pennsylvania for the rest of February and into March.”

  “What do you say?”

  He grimaced. “God, country, duty, honor. Rally round the flag boys in some variation or another. I try to emphasize that while the war is about ending slavery, it is also about saving our country, the one for which our grandfathers put their necks on the line. My grandfathers, Hal’s too, were captains under Washington. Nan Charlotte’s older brother died at Yorktown. Secretary Stanton tells me I’m good at it. Every day the boys look younger. God, I want this war to end.”

  To avoid the wretched Hanover Line, Joe and Stephen met them at the Lancaster station with a wagon and took care of the luggage and the dogs. The sun felt deliciously hot and the exercise invigorating as Summer and Daniel took the horses cross country and arrived at the lake late in the day, where they met Ezra.

  As Summer prepared a tray and started coffee, she overheard Daniel speaking. “We’d like to put a greenhouse on the south face of a new barn.”

  Ezra led them to the end of the road, where snow lingered in the shadow of the hemlocks. “Here. Extend the road a hundred yards and build the barn on the far side of the hill. We’ll bank it so you have a big loft for straw and hay, and plenty of room for the animals on the ground floor.” He rubbed his hands together. “We’ll clear the road and build a shell in a week, then finish it by spring.” He pointed uphill. “We can pipe water in from the spring. A stone spri
nghouse would be nice for cold storage. You’ll probably get a cow come winter.” He turned to Summer, just carrying out the tray of coffee. “I’ll have your greenhouse finished by the first of April. I’ll order the glass from Pittsburgh. Special artisans from France make the sheet glass now.”

  Telegrams sizzled back and forth between Hal and Daniel. Without digging into Summer’s treasure of gold, they bought four farms, bringing their total acreage to about 3500. Hal suggested Summer keep her gold.

  “Now isn’t the time to sell. Your father showed good sense in leaving you gold. The price is okay now, but it’ll go up closer to the elections. Wait to sell.”

  Hal made a whirlwind visit, then he and Daniel rode to Gettysburg to finalize the transactions. He stayed two nights at the lake, visiting each farm with Daniel between recruitment rallies. In the first week in March, Ezra sent Matthew to Hanover to pick up Hal and Fanny. Jimmy followed with a wagon for the trunks.

  As the buggy pulled up to the house, Summer could tell by Fanny’s wrinkled expression that she wasn’t impressed by their log cabin. Summer and Daniel gave them the large bedroom. It didn’t matter to them. She and Daniel slept as tight and entwined as newborn kittens wherever they were.

  She knew Hal loved the valley. The first day, he and the dogs walked the paths that laced through the mountains. At sunset, as the birds flew to their roosts, he brought down a string of pheasants. He hung them in the shed and told Summer he’d clean them later. When Fanny, in all innocence, asked if he cleaned them with soap and water, she noticed Daniel choke back a chuckle.

  “Fanny does try,” she whispered to Daniel later as they snuggled in bed. “She loves walking around the lake with the dogs, and she likes to sit in the sun on the stone wall and watch the Germans building the barn.”

 

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