“Sorry I had to lie to your father last night,” he said. “If he knew the truth about me, he would make sure I didn’t get within fifty feet of you.”
“I understand. We’ve been apart for so long and we’ve both changed so much that I can’t honestly say if you’re wrong or right. But it’s best to take no chances. Besides, it’s none of his or anyone’s business.”
“But it doesn’t bother you I’m a…”
She watched him lower his head and take a deep breath. “No, Steve, I swear. It wasn’t your fault, or even perhaps your mother’s.”
“She chose him of her free will. Knowing the awful truth about him, she… yielded to him and bore his bastard son anyway.”
Ginny detected anguish but no bitterness toward his mother. Would he feel the same about her if she “yielded” to him and got into trouble? Would he do as his father had long ago and refuse to wed her? Would he let anyone or anything saddle him with responsibilities and restraints he didn’t want? “She must have loved him deeply.”
“She did, and I can’t blame her for that.”
“But you blame him for…” She stopped and said, “I’m sorry, Steve; I promised not to do this again, nose into your life.”
Vexed with himself, he admitted, “I started it, like a fool trying to switch himself with a limb.”
Ginny ventured in a tender tone, “Maybe because you need to talk about it to someone who cares and understands so you can get rid of your torment and deal with the truth. You’ve kept it pent up for years. It’s ready to burst from confinement.”
“You’re right, but I’m not ready to talk about it, not yet.”
“When the right time comes along, you will,” she contended. “I know you will.” He didn’t look convinced. “Maybe it’s had a good side, Steve; it could be what’s driven you to become so strong and independent. Troubles have a way of doing that for us. If everything in life was easy, where would we get our strengths and courage? What would hone our skills and wits? What would make’ those good things and times so wonderful and rewarding?”
Steve’s gaze locked with her hazel one. “For such a young and sheltered woman, you know a lot, Anna Avery.”
Ginny sent him a bright smile. “That’s one of the best compliments you could pay me. Thank you.”
“No flattery, woman, just the plain truth.”
The moon was full. A breeze wafting over them was cool. The green and quiet setting was romantic and private. They were alone.
Steve’s alert ears checked for sounds of anyone nearby. He heard nothing to stop him from pulling her into his arms, and she came willingly and freely. They shared several kisses, their eager lips meshing with gentleness and leisure, then swiftness and urgency. Their fingers caressed, giving and receiving pleasure. He trailed kisses over her face, then claimed her pleading mouth once more.
When he realized they were becoming too aroused, he ordered himself to recover self-control and to clear his wits. He rested his cheek against the top of her head while hers nestled against his broad chest. He felt her tremors of desire. He wanted and needed her so badly. He wished they were alone somewhere else so he could make love to her. Yet, that might be a painful experience, to know her and lose her. If he got that involved with Anna, it could mean trouble and pain for both of them. He didn’t have anything to offer her, not yet, not any time soon, if ever. Without his changing, a bond between them was impossible; and he wasn’t sure he could change or wanted to change. If he couldn’t make a promise to this special woman, how could he take her?
Ginny felt and heard Steve’s heart thudding rapidly and heavily in a fierce need that matched the one storming her body. It felt good, right, perfect in his arms. She knew she wanted more than hugs and kisses from him and, if they were elsewhere, she would challenge the unknown. He had lied to her “father” for a good reason, so perhaps he would be forgiving and understanding of her deceits. She had to learn if he was softening toward her.
“When this is over, Steve, why not come with me to… work?”
He noticed she hadn’t said with us. “Where?”
“To… the ranch or wherever.”
He caught her hesitation and prayed it didn’t mean anything sinister. Surely the Klan wouldn’t send a woman to do their task! But who would suspect an innocent-looking beauty? His heart pounded in dread and his guts twisted into painful knots. To evoke information and clarification, he said, “I have another task waiting for me when I finish this one.”
“Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”
Don’t make me wrong about you, woman. “I can’t, Anna; I made a promise, and it’s important. I will come to visit you afterward.”
She understood important promises and having to honor them, but a “visit” wasn’t all she wanted from him. Yet, it was a good start. “How long will the next job require?” she asked.
“Maybe weeks, maybe months. I don’t know yet.”
“What if, …” I need you, pay you, persuade you? her mind enticed.
“What if what?” he asked when she halted and tensed.
“The ranch doesn’t work out and Father moves again or returns to Georgia? How could we locate each other?”
“Leave a message for me with the Waco sheriff.”
She looked at him wide-eyed. He was acquainted with the lawman where Charles alleged to own a ranch? “The sheriff? You know him?”
Steve worried over the sound of her voice, the expression in her eyes, and the way she went almost stiff in his embrace. He knew there was something he must check out when he reached Columbus and could send a telegram. “No, but most towns have one,” he lied, “and that’s how messages get passed. Give him a dollar and he’ll do the favor for you.”
“We’ll need a guide if we return to Georgia or move elsewhere.”
“Then I’ll make sure I stay in touch; I’d like to have this same job again.”
“How did you get it in the first place?”
As he toyed with long curls, he murmured, “Newspaper.”
“What do you mean?”
“The company that arranges and outfits wagontrains advertises in newspapers in the South and East. They knew of me, so they hired me as leader and scout. A lot of folks are moving west these days, but most to the Far West. I usually head out of Missouri on the Oregon, Sante Fe, or Mormon trails. This trip sounded good for a rest and change. No prairies, mountains, or Indians to worry about. The company tells the leader where the best stops are and has preparations made for him along the route.”
“You know the Midwest well, don’t you?”
When she focused on that particular area, Steve’s anxiety increased. He had been told that Missouri was the rendezvous point for the villain to meet his contact. “Yep, traveled most of it many times. Tell me where you need to go and I can get you there safely. Maybe even for no charge.”
Ginny hated to leave him, but it was perilous to remain longer in the tempting location. “If I ever need to make a trip there, I’ll hire you. It’s getting late. We should return to camp before we’re missed.” She kissed him again before they parted.
Steve lay on his bedroll staring at stars and clenching his teeth over and over until they ached. Getting later than you think, Anna, because you’re becoming too inquisitive about certain things.
CHAPTER 9
On Monday, the soil became redder and harder on the western side of Georgia but the shape of the terrain altered little. They saw few snakes and animals; no doubt the approach of the noisy wagontrain frightened them away. They skirted two areas where fenced cattle grazed and finally reached the wide and deep Flint River and camped, as it was too late in the day to begin the lengthy crossing. That allowed people to have extra time for chores and relaxing and for thorough baths. Many had worn the same garments several days so this was a welcome stop.
Women gathered in different areas at the water to wash clothes. Lucy, Mary, Ellie, Ruby, and Ginny chatted while they worked to
gether. Ginny helped Ruby tend her babies while her husband hunted with some of the men. In camp, other husbands or older children tended small ones so the women could work. Steve rode to the farm nearby to let the owner and his helpers know they had arrived and would be ready for ferry assistance in the morning as prearranged.
Ginny asked Lucy about her ankle and learned it was doing fine, giving credit to the support crutch Steve had made for her. She heard from her friends that the irritable women in the group had behaved themselves.
Ruby looked at Ginny. “Our handsome scout has been paying you much attention, Anna.” The redhead grinned, as did the other three.
“Is that bad?” Ginny asked, testing his worry about dissension.
“Only if you don’t want him to,” Mary answered. “You do, don’t you?”
“I like him,” Ginny admitted with a light flush to her cheeks.
“That’s good,” Ellie told her. “He would make a fine husband.”
“Husband? We haven’t gotten that close and I doubt we ever will.”
“Keep trying,” Ellie encouraged, and the others nodded agreement.
“I’m not certain Steve Carr is the marrying kind.”
“You can convince him otherwise,” Ruby said with confidence.
“I’m sure you can, Anna,” Lucy added in a coaxing tone.
“If a man is shy or reluctant, a woman has to lead him with cunning bridle to the trough to drink from her charms, just like a stubborn mule.”
“But how does a woman capture a man’s total interest?” Ginny asked.
Ruby smiled at Ginny and replied, “Just be yourself, Anna. How could he help but like you and want you? He isn’t blind, old, or taken. And you have an advantage, girl; you’re the only single lady available.”
“That doesn’t matter to Cathy,” Ellie whispered, “but she must have gotten a stinging rebuff because she’s left him alone for a while.”
“She has to know our scout is enchanted by Anna,” Mary said.
“If she’s the jealous and spiteful type, she could cause trouble for us.”
“Don’t worry, Anna, we won’t let her.”
“Thank you, Ellie. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea and try to have Steve fired out of vindictiveness.”
“You work on him with all your might, and we’ll make sure no one interferes. Right, ladies?” Ruby, Mary, and Lucy nodded their agreement.
After their baths, the two Davis boys entreated Ginny to fish with them. “If we catch enough, Momma says we can cook ‘em for supper. Please help.”
Ginny looked at the elder boy and realized he had a case of boyish infatuation on her. She smiled at him and said, “Why not? Let’s go, but you’ll have to teach me how.”
Hooks had been baited and lines tossed into the river many times with good results when Steve returned and joined them. The scout grinned at Ginny and noticed how the boy was disappointed by his arrival.
“We can use another fisherman, Mr. Carr. If we catch enough, we’re frying them for dinner. If you help, you can join us,” she tempted.
“How could any man resist an offer like that?” he replied. He located and cut a sturdy limb, then attached line and hook. As he secured a small hunk of old meat as bait, he said to the subdued boy, “You’re skilled at this, son; I’m sure your parents are proud of you. I bet you wouldn’t have any trouble fending for yourself and them if need be.” The boy beamed with pride and pleasure, and was won over to Steve’s side.
Ginny hauled in a catfish with laughter and squeals that amused and delighted Steve. The fish thrashed in the air, then on the bank. “I’m not taking him off,” she murmured with more laughter. “The last one pricked my fingers with those sharp fins.”
The fourteen-year-old removed the fish and rebaited her line. He added it to the growing string that dangled in the water to keep them fresh.
When the task was finished, the group had plenty of catfish and two other kinds to feed nine people. Steve and Stuart skinned or scaled, gutted, and cleaned the mess. Ellie and Ginny rolled them in a mixture of cornmeal, salt, and pepper, with a smidgen of flour. As the fish began cooking, a delightful aroma wafted over the area. Ellie prepared hushpuppies, and Ginny provided several jars of canned vegetables.
While they all worked or observed, Ginny asked Steve, “Does the Klan really do all those awful things some of the men have mentioned?”
Getting worried about helping them? “I don’t know. Why?”
“Mr. Brown and Daniels and a few others speak so strongly in their favor that I’m confused. The North did do horrible things to the South, so I’m not sure I can blame them feeling as they do. If the Loyal Leaguers and other gangs—white and black—continue to terrorize Southerners, who will stop them if not the Klan? The Yankee-controlled courts and laws don’t protect them. I wonder which is worse: do nothing or risk overdoing? People have suffered so much already; I hate to see more.”
Steve was in a quandary: If he spoke against the Klan, she would hush if guilty; if he didn’t and she wasn’t involved, she’d get a bad opinion of him. Luckily he didn’t have to answer, as the meal was ready.
Mattie scowled and complained as she unpacked her wagon at the riverbank, “Why couldn’t we cross on a bridge? This is lots of work.”
“Bridges north and south of here were destroyed by the Yankees and haven’t been rebuilt, ma’am,” Steve explained once more. “We’d have to travel too far out of our way to take the next one.”
“More time than it takes to unpack, ferry across, and repack?”
“That’s right, Mrs. Epps,” Steve responded. He was hard pressed to control his annoyance with the whiny woman who’d carried on childishly since they began this task after eating breakfast and cleaning up the campsite. Travelers worked together on both banks to unhitch and reharness teams and to unload and reload wagons. Hired men from nearby towns helped ferry the people, teams, wagons, and loads across the eight-foot depth on separate trips because of their heavy weights and large sizes. Steve was in an unsettled mood because no one had acted strangely, as if they were protecting valuable gems. He’d hoped this chore would provide him with a clue.
Later, they crossed railroad tracks that stretched between Macon and far below Andersonville. They camped not many miles above the site.
After the evening meal and chores, men chatted about its significance. It was a well-known Confederate prison camp for captured Yankees. Nearly fifty thousand of the Northerners had been incarcerated there, and thirteen thousand of them had died during captivity and were buried on the vast acreage.
“No more died there than Rebs died in their harsh prisons. Woulda been more if not for those traitors who joined ‘em. If them Galvanized Yanks hadn’t done all their work out West, we’d have had less of ‘em to fight.”
Harry Brown snarled like a wild dog. “Hellfire, the Klan ortta go after them traitors, too! If I was a member, we would.”
Others gave their opinions until rain sent the men and women rushing to their wagons for cover. Later, some sat beneath them to play cards.
One man watched and listened. He absently touched his waist where a pouch was secured under a blousy shirt. Soon, he vowed, the Red Magnolias would have the arms and ammunition needed to seek and punish the Yanks for what they did to the South. His Den would make those vicious attackers only too happy to pull back of the Mason-Dixon Line! When he reached Dallas, the plan would go into motion. He would meet his contacts and journey with them to Missouri to exchange the gems.
Two days later at four o’clock, the wagontrain halted to camp near the Chattahoochee River, a few miles south of Columbus on the border. They had journeyed two hundred twenty miles in eleven days to cross Georgia, the largest state east of the Mississippi and the lengthiest one to traverse.
Some of the men headed for town to restock supplies. The grain wagon drivers did the same. Women tended chores and children.
Charles talked Ginny into going to Columbus to eat, bat
he, shop, and stay at a hotel overnight. She did her chores and secured the wagon openings against rain. She took a small cloth satchel with her possessions, mounted a borrowed horse, and they left.
The scout met with a stranger—Luther Beams, called Big L because of his size. The real leader would pose as Steve’s helper and be ready to take over if the special agent solved his case and had to leave. Luther had agreed without hesitation to assist the crucial mission that riled him.
“I’ll tell the others you’re to be obeyed as quickly as I am. You’ll be in charge tonight. I have to ride into Columbus to send two telegrams. I won’t return until morning. One of my suspects is staying there overnight, so I’ll need to watch him.” He was glad he hadn’t said them or her. “You keep your eyes and ears open here for anything suspicious.”
Steve approached Ginny’s door to invite her to take a stroll. He was relieved her father was at the other end of the hall and had turned in for the night, early. One telegram was on its way to the Georgia agent to have him investigate if Charles Avery really had a daughter, one this woman’s age. It was possible her name wasn’t Anna Avery and she wasn’t kin to the older man. If she wasn’t Anna, he’d have a strong clue to work on. If she was, he could breathe easier. The second telegram was on its way to a Texas agent, asking him to investigate if Charles Avery had purchased the Box F Ranch near Waco. He had requested answers as quickly as possible, and said he would check for them in Montgomery and Jackson and Vicksburg. He anticipated those responses with a blend of dread and hope.
Steve tapped on the door marked with the number the desk clerk had given to him, and Ginny responded. She appeared surprised to see him. She peeked into the hall, saw no one, and pulled him inside in a rush. She closed the door, locked it, and looked at him.
Ginny was so glad to see Steve that she acted without thinking about what she was doing—bringing a man into her room, and in her state of dress! “We can’t be seen talking this time of night in a hotel. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you back in camp?”
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