Midnight Secrets

by Janelle Taylor

  “You’re right, Lucy dear.” She glanced at the newcomer. “I suppose we shouldn’t gossip about the others like this. Anna must think we’re awful.”

  “No, I don’t, Ellie. You four have become close friends. I’m glad you’re letting me join your group. Thanks for including me in your circle.”

  The women felt she was being sincere. Ginny glanced from one to the next and smiled at each woman.

  “Please go on with your story, Anna,” Mary urged.

  With a blend of fact and fiction, Ginny told the four genial women, “I was nineteen less than three weeks ago. My mother died when I was a child, so it makes me sad to talk about her. Father bought a ranch in Texas; that’s where we’ll be living. He owned several stores before the war, but Yankee taxes were eating them alive. Before they could bankrupt and be taken away, he sold them to purchase the ranch and finance this journey. My aunt owns a small boardinghouse in town; she’s planning to sell it and join us later. Railroads should be repaired by then which will make an easier trip for her and it will give Father and I time to get settled.”

  “Was the war hard on you with him off fighting?” Ellie asked.

  Ginny used an apologetic tone and expression as she admitted, “No, because I wasn’t home. When things looked bad, Father sent me off to boarding school up north, in Pennsylvania. I was only thirteen, so I was scared at first. When war came, Father wouldn’t allow me to return home; he thought I’d be safer there. Sherman’s destructive march through Georgia proved he was right. He made me stay until school was over or things improved. When he realized that could be a long time or never and this opportunity arose, he came to fetch me by train. We only returned twelve days ago. I stayed in town while the men trained so I could visit with my aunt before departure.”

  “I bet you’re glad to be out of Yankee land.”

  “I am, Mary. I hated the cold and icy winters and being with people so different from us and so far away from home. Union girls gave Dixie girls a hard time; we had to pretend to be abolitionists to keep peace. It was a coward’s way out and we all hated it, but we had no choice. Some of us were tempted to escape school and come home, but we were afraid of being arrested as southern sympathizers. It was a horrible way to live. We knew we couldn’t get home through enemy lines-and across raging battlefields. We could have been captured and imprisoned or shot as spies. We had to hide our love and support of the South.”

  “How awful to live like that,” Ruby murmured in empathy.

  “I would have been terrified.”

  “Me, too, Mary,” Lucy concurred. “I know you’re glad to be back.”

  “I am,” Ginny went on, “but I was shocked by the devastation I saw on the way home. I can’t believe how bad things still are. I’ll be glad to reach Texas. It will be wonderful to be free and proud again.”

  From behind the women, Steve reminded, “Texas was a Confederate state and it’s under military rule like all the others in the South.”

  Ginny hadn’t noticed his approach again, and was unsettled by his curious presence. Why wasn’t he with the men? Why lurk around near the women, eavesdropping? “But it’s such a big state and it’s not as bad there as it is here. The man who sold Father the ranch said so. Did he lie?”

  Instead of answering her, he asked, “Where is your father’s ranch?”

  If he knew the area, she realized, she could be exposed. Instead of saying Waco, she decided to reply that she didn’t know. “You’ll have to ask Father,” she informed him.

  As husbands joined wives in the small group, Steve responded, “I will when he returns. I have friends in Texas, so I might drop by to visit one day to see how he’s doing. I like your father and enjoy his company.”

  Ginny didn’t believe him. No matter his motive, she wouldn’t be with Charles Avery, who would guard her true location. During her fabricated revelations, she’d noticed something to use as an evasion. “Why are the men armed in camp, Mr. Carr?” she asked. “Every one has a rifle within reach.”

  Mary’s husband, James Wiggins, responded before the scout could. “Didn’t Charles tell you about the gangs of ex-Yanks and freed slaves who are roaming the South like legalized criminals and attacking innocent folk?” After Ginny shook her head, James continued. “I bet most of them are riding under the cover of that Yankee Loyal League. They claim they want to train black people to become citizens but that’s a pile of— Pardon me, ladies, but it riles me. They’re nothing but a bunch of outlaws with government protection. Their members spy on honest folk, then attack them without just cause. They find ways to levy fines on us, our women are harassed in the streets just to provoke us, churches are entered and services interrupted, and businesses and homes are confiscated.”

  Lucy’s husband added, “They steal, kill, rape, burn, and imprison decent folk. Some get arrested on fake charges and vanish forever.”

  “You’re right, Jeff,” James concurred. “Those Loyal League juries and judges and governors will give even a guilty Northern man a pardon or acquittal if he pays them a bribe.”

  “The black leagues are the worst,” George Amerson stated matter-of-factly. “I admit some of them former slaves were mistreated, but they ain’t got reason to take out their hatred and revenge on every white person in the South.”

  Ellie looked at her mate as Stuart gave his opinion. “That new Reconstruction Act isn’t going to work. Greedy carpetbaggers and scalawags and those hot-headed Radicals won’t let it. That’s why President Johnson vetoed it. As long as they won’t readmit us to the Union, allow us to be terrorized and cheated, and keep us under their crushing boots, things will never improve down here. That’s why we’re getting out while we can. I don’t want my children to endure the shame and anguish we’ve had to.”

  “What if some of those gangs attack here?” a worried Mary asked.

  “Guards will be posted every night,” the observant leader answered, “here and on the trail. That’s why we circle up to camp, to be close enough to hear anyone who gets into danger. The men have their assignments. Don’t worry, I check the area every evening before I turn in.”

  “But those raiders usually attack folk in the middle of the night.”

  “Stay calm, Mary love,” James told his wife. “We’ll be safe.”

  “I think it’s time for everyone to settle down and turn in,” Steve advised. “We all have a busy day tomorrow, especially the ladies.”

  The people said their good nights and went to their wagons.

  Steve turned to speak to Avery’s daughter to see if he could learn more from her, but she was gone, probably to avoid him. He shrugged and went to where he was camped near a tree with his horse and sat on his bedroll to think. Her tale had been enlightening, he concluded, but totally truthful…? He didn’t think so. Yet, there could be reasons besides involvement in the gem-smuggling scheme for her to mislead the others. He wished he could have overheard everything the women said beneath the tree, as females were more open than men and made more frequent slips. He had been giving the men their guard assignments and advising them to give their wives all the encouragement and help they could during the females’ difficult training period. He had sneaked up just as Anna Avery began her personal story. When he sighted the husbands approaching, he had revealed himself to keep from getting caught and arousing suspicions in the wrong person.

  He had five suspects so far: the embittered Harry Brown; Cathy’s husband, Ed King, bankrupted by the Yanks; the halfcrippled John Daniels; Louise’s husband, Samuel Jackson who seemed deceitfully quiet and nice; and Charles Avery, about whom he was unsure and uneasy. Maybe Anna’s father had fetched her from school up North to use her as a diversional cover for his dirty work, if Avery was the culprit he was seeking. The other men appeared to be open, honest, and sincere about their motives for going west and being on this particular wagontrain.

  Steve knew he needed more time to study and ultimately expose his target. From years of experience, he knew how to fake
a credible act. But with Anna he was at a total loss. She was unlike any woman he had met. She caused strange and annoying stirrings in him, feelings and reactions that had nothing to do with the case at hand. He found himself thinking about her too much. That had to stop or be controlled.

  So did unusual and unwanted twinges of compassion and conscience these pioneers evoked in him. He assumed it was because of the sufferings they had endured during and after the war, the bitterness and resentment they felt, the loss of their roots and pride, and a tragic score that hadn’t been settled. He understood such troubles only too well…He didn’t like getting close to people or feeling sorry for them; that created problems, distractions, and weaknesses that could interfere with his work. He must never be blinded, vulnerable, or betrayed again.

  Ginny lay on a pallet inside Charles’s wagon. She couldn’t imagine what the next few months would bring—but she’d find out soon. It had been a difficult, tiring day. She was too edgy to sleep. In a camp filled with people, she felt alone and frightened, in spite of the four friends she’d made and many nice acquaintances. She was plagued by her deception but couldn’t confess the truth. It would make her sound terrible and get her kicked off the wagontrain, not to mention getting the gentle Charles Avery into trouble for lying about their kinship.

  Ginny’s turbulent heart filled with grief and loneliness over the death of her best friend. At times, she believed Johanna’s ploy would work like a charm; at others, she feared it wouldn’t, and wished she hadn’t agreed to the scheme. One thing she knew for certain: she would not emotionally and financially hurt Bennett Chapman if he were innocent. But if he were guilty… She’d promised! Please, Johanna, please, God, help me know the right thing to do when the time comes.

  With Johanna gone, Ginny didn’t think she could bear it if her father was dead, too. Anxiety over his safety troubled her. Until the time came to head for Colorado, she must keep worries and fears concerning him off her mind and keep her concentration on current factors.

  But Johanna’s loss was fresh and painful. The finality of it brought renewed anguish and tears. Ginny allowed the flow; it was needed to cleanse and calm her, especially with Steve Carr harassing her.

  She couldn’t understand why he picked on her. At times, he seemed to look at her with desire and interest; at others, with almost contempt and anger and a curious suspicion. If only he’d be nice for a while…

  The scout in mind paused beside the Avery wagon during his last rounds of the evening. His keen ears heard the muffled crying inside. He wondered why Anna was weeping…Because she was miserable out of her normal surroundings? Afraid of the journey and new start looming before her? Of what she was leaving behind—or who? Fears of failure? Or because he had hurt her feelings several times today?

  The twenty-seven-year-old half-Indian guide didn’t know why that last doubt entered his mind, unless it was the way she had looked at him at the river and after their walk. For certain he’d put obstacles in his needed path to her; he’d seen her alter her favorable opinion of him since this morning at their first meeting. He could kick himself for getting so defensive about his strong attraction to her that he overreacted and repelled her with foolish behavior. He was untouchable and unchangeable, so he shouldn’t worry about her getting to him enough to cause him the problems and pains like those he’d suffered in the past. She seemed, or had seemed, interested in him as a man. Shouldn’t he try to take advantage of that opening to obtain needed information?

  He was surprised by how quickly she had learned her lessons. He could have given her well-deserved praise as he had with others to warm and to open them up to his probings. Why hadn’t he? She could be his target as easily as any of the others present, who all seemed genuine so far—all except for the five men who had caused his honed instincts to go on full alert.

  Ginny fed and watered the Avery mules as instructed to give them energy for their joint tasks today. The women’s lesson began with how to pack a wagon and secure the load for correct balance and for protection of their possessions.

  They gathered around Lucy Eaves’s wagon for Steve Carr to explain the correct procedure. He told them to pack from front to back, going bottom to top along the way in three layers. Heavy and bulky items—such as stove, plow, trunks of linens, and out-of-season garments, big tools, small furniture, barrels of household goods such as curtains, and bolts of cloth—went on the bottom and were positioned to spread out their weight for stability. Lighter and sturdier possessions—kitchen items, keepsakes, cook and wash pots, churn, homemade toys, and such— came next and were safeguarded by blankets. Fragile belongings and things needed for use during travel—food supplies, dishes, weapons, clothing, and bedding—were loaded atop the high stacks.

  Steve showed them how to use leather straps, cloth strips, and lengths of rope to secure the items in place for maximum protection against breakage. Lamps were suspended from hickory bows that formed the top construction of the wagon beneath its billowy covering of hemp canvas that was waterproofed with linseed oil. Other possessions were secured to the outside of the wagon box, often in wooden containers or suspended from hooks or resting on shelves, such as the fresh water barrel, an easy-to-reach weapon by the driver’s seat, crates with chickens, sacks with feed, axes for chopping wood, the axle grease bucket, and saw.

  “I want each of you to unload your wagon and begin from scratch,” Steve told the women. “Let me check it when it’s totally empty, then watch you pack and secure everything as I showed you. While I’m assisting you one at a time, the others can be doing chores or resting or visiting with friends.”

  “Why is this necessary, Mr. Carr?” Mattie questioned irritably. “If we pack everything we need along the way on top, we won’t have to bother the other stuff until we reach our destination.”

  “There will be times, Mrs. Epps, when wagons have to be unloaded and reloaded. If you learn how, it will speed up those delays on the trail.”

  “I don’t understand. For what reasons?” she pressed.

  “Some rivers, the Mississippi for one, are too deep and swift to cross in wagons,” he clarified. “You’ll have to unload and the wheels have to be removed so we can float or ferry the wagon across, then reload after goods are taken over separately. Other times, loads and wheels have to be removed to repair broken parts. If you have belongings you know will overburden your mules and wagons, get rid of them before we depart or you might have to discard them along the trail. It’s best to take them into town and sell them rather than lose their value. The ground gets real soft in parts of Mississippi and Louisiana, so heavy loads become a problem.”

  “I’m not leaving anything else behind!” Harry Brown’s wife said.

  Steve tried to appease the embittered woman. “That’s fine, ma’am, and I hope it doesn’t become necessary to discard anything you love along the way.”

  “It isn’t fair,” Mattie said, and Mrs. Brown nodded agreement.

  “Sorry, ladies, but it’s more important that you, your family, and your supplies get there than keepsakes. The mules can carry only so much.”

  Louise Jackson scowled at the women and almost commanded, “Stop wasting time, ladies, so we can get finished before the day’s gone. The orders are clear, so accept them, bad as they might be.”

  “Don’t be hard on them, Louise; this move is difficult.”

  “It’s hard on everyone, Ellie, but it has to be done. Let’s get busy.”

  Steve forced himself not to frown at the bickering females. “Women with babies and small children will begin first so they’ll be ready to tend them later. Get your things unloaded and spread out for my inspection. It’s best to pair off to help each other with heavy items.”

  Before each woman could choose her partner, Steve made his own assignments from his own study of them. Ruby and Mary became a team, as both had babies and were friends. Mattie was put with Louise so the blonde could keep the whiner moving and silent. Dependable, kind, and patient Ellie
was paired with Lucy to help the woman with the bad foot. Cathy was told to work with Mrs. Brown, as the resentful older woman might keep the spoiled beauty out of his hair. The other six were put together in three teams of twos. That left Anna Avery to herself, and to him…

  “You don’t seem to have as many possessions as the others, Miss Avery, so my help should be all you need.”

  “The ranch Father purchased is furnished, so we don’t need to carry much with us. Whatever else we need, Father said he’d buy there. He felt it would be an easier and more comfortable journey with a light load.”

  “You don’t need to explain, but thank you for doing so,” he replied. “You four teams with babies and small children begin your work now. The rest of you, do as you please for about two hours until we finish.”

  The women parted to go to their areas. Steve realized that none had balked enough to appear worried about what he might find in her wagon, if the wife knew what her husband might be doing on the sly. He realized what he was seeking could be hidden in the area until departure time, could be with the woman’s husband today during this task, or could be in town with Charles Avery.

  Steve worked with Mary and Ruby, then with the Brown woman and Cathy, then Louise and Mattie to get the mothers with babies and smallest children finished first. He soon grasped the seeming impossibility of locating a clue with this lesson, which flustered and annoyed him. He kept his feelings disguised by a feigned genial manner. He realized he couldn’t search every item and container, and the stolen gems—mostly diamonds—he was seeking could be hidden anywhere and by anyone.

  Steve knew his mission was dangerous, as several skilled agents had been beaten and slain while trying to solve this case. The Justice Department knew which group was involved, what their future plans included, and that the gems were being smuggled out on this trip. The many robberies to obtain payment for weapons had alerted the government to trouble and given them a trail to follow for a time. Now, it was up to him—a stranger and an experienced wagontrain scout but first-time master—to complete a mission others had died trying to solve. If this lesson didn’t expose the culprit delivering the gems, perhaps large river crossings would. Surely an anxious carrier for the Red Magnolias would safeguard the pouch by removing it from its hiding spot during moments of possible endangerment, so he must keep a sharp eye out to catch the villain.