Memphis

by Sara Orwig

  “I knew her before,” Caleb said. “Thank God, I’m back.”

  “I never went because I took an oath of allegiance. Some people still don’t speak, but war’s not for me.”

  “I don’t know who it is for,” Caleb replied.

  Irwin stood. “I’ll get the loan paper and have someone get your money. I’m glad you’re back to stay. I know a place where we can get into a good game of poker in the back room. It’s high stakes if you’re interested.”

  “Sometime soon, Irwin,” Caleb said, thinking all he wanted to do now was spend every spare minute with Sophia.

  After he left the bank he went to a tailor’s shop where he was fitted for clothes. He purchased a broad-brimmed hat, shirts, and underclothes. Next he was fitted for new boots. Then he went to the telegraph office to send another telegram to New Orleans to Rafferty and one to Darcy. He purchased a horse and ordered a buggy.

  He was amazed by the people who had flooded Memphis. Crowds thronged the street—carpetbaggers, Memphians, freed men, men and families headed West. Steamboats lined the docks, and buggies filled the dusty, rutted streets.

  New buildings were already going up and Court Square was crowded with people. Everywhere he looked were bedraggled soldiers on their way home, Confederates who had survived, some on crutches, some walking skeletons. The Federal soldiers looked better, and he guessed many had spent most of the war in Memphis.

  He turned to go to Will’s office in the Stanton Building. As soon as he was announced, Will came out of his office to hug him.

  “Thank God, you alive!”

  “You think after all we went through, I was going to go back and get shot?”

  They both laughed and Will motioned toward his office. Caleb entered a room with mahogany woodwork, a wide mahogany desk piled high with papers, papers and books stacked in glass-fronted cabinets. When they were seated, Caleb couldn’t restrain himself with polite conversation. “What about the railroad, Will? Are you still interested?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, I’ve gone ahead. I’ve gotten some investors and I’ve placed a proposal before the city.”

  Caleb’s pulse jumped and he leaned forward with eagerness. “Damned good! I can’t wait to get this train rolling. Look at the throng of people in the city. We can help open the West.”

  “We better build our bank accounts,” Will said dryly. “Father opposes this and unfortunately, Hannah Lou married Trevitt.”

  “Sophia told me.”

  “I don’t like him, Caleb, so there won’t be any problem about being in the same business and competing, but Father finds it a problem. And whatever we do, I’ll have to give part of my days to working here. Father expects me to take this business when he retires whether I own a railroad or not.”

  “We’ve always had that understanding. Just put in money, Will,” Caleb teased, feeling impatient to get to work. “Let me know what you’ve done and what I need to start doing.”

  “Get investors. We’re going to need thousands. Pull your chair here and I’ll show you where we stand.”

  Three hours later Caleb and Will rented the second floor over the barber shop for a temporary office, and then Will returned to the Stanton Building.

  By midafternoon Caleb had called on old friends and business acquaintances, making the necessary contacts for later. As he climbed in the buggy to turn on Main, he gazed at the throng. He couldn’t believe he was finally home. It was a hot summer day with a cerulean sky, Main Street teaming with people. Inhaling deeply, constantly thankful the war was over, he turned south.

  Drawing the reins Caleb gazed at the empty depot that was his. In place of the weathered shutters and the high weeds, he could envision a lawn, flowers around the depot, and passengers entering the building. Instead of the rotting dock, its boards crumbled into the river, there would be a dock and ferry. He looked beyond the sagging dock at the glistening Mississippi, feeling a deep-running current of excitement. This town, this river, would make his fortune, but most of all, Memphis held his heart because of Sophia.

  Very soon he would have his train in operation. He wanted to get the railroad up and running as quickly as humanly possible, because people were moving West. And Trevitt would be a competitor.

  His jaw tightened at the thought of Trevitt. He had found out the location of Trevitt’s office, a new two-story brick building next door to the Community Bank on Main. Caleb halted the buggy and hitched his horse to the rail and strode inside beneath a sign that read TREVITT AND ASSOCIATES.

  “May I help you?” a blond man asked.

  “Is Major Trevitt in? I’m Caleb O’Brien and I want to see him.”

  A door was closed behind the man and another door led into a hallway. On the closed door was Dunstan’s nameplate in brass.

  “I’ll tell him you’re here, sir, but Major Trevitt’s unable to see anyone now.”

  “He has someone with him?”

  “No, but he left instructions that he’s not to be disturbed.”

  Caleb stepped through a knee-high gate. Instantly the man’s chair scraped, and he blocked Caleb’s path. “I’m sorry, you can’t—”

  Caleb caught him by the shirtfront and lifted him even though the man was half a foot taller than Caleb. “Get out of my way,” he said and shoved the man whose eyes went wide. He fell back across his chair, tumbling to the floor as Caleb strode to the door and kicked it open.

  The knob broke and the door slammed against the inside wall. Caleb strode across the office. Behind a rosewood desk Dunstan came to his feet, his eyes narrowing.

  “What the hell—” He reached to open a drawer.

  Caleb didn’t pause, but leaned over the desk and threw his right fist as forcefully as possible, putting all his weight behind it, connecting on Dunstan’s jaw, feeling pain shoot up his arm, but not caring.

  Dunstan slammed into the wall, shook his head, and jumped for the open drawer, lifting a revolver and pointing it at Caleb.

  “I’m unarmed,” Caleb said. “They’ll never believe you if you say you had to shoot in self-defense.”

  “Major Trevitt?” the blond man spoke behind Caleb.

  “Close the door, Thomas. I’m all right,” Trevitt said, rubbing his jaw and glaring at Caleb.

  Caleb tried to control his rage. He wanted to leap across the desk and continue pounding Dunstan and he wanted to call him out, but he wasn’t going to use a gun again. He felt a tight knot of hatred he had never experienced facing the enemy in the war.

  “When I challenge you, I want everyone to know it,” Dunstan hissed. “I’ll kill you for this.”

  “Don’t go near Sophia. Don’t threaten her or frighten her or intimidate her in any manner,” Caleb shot back.

  Dunstan’s chest heaved as he breathed, and he stared back at Caleb. “Get out of my office.”

  Caleb turned and strode out, his back tingling, because Dunstan could easily shoot him, but a shot in the back would be difficult to explain. He stepped out of the office and slammed the door, his fists clenched, feeling hot with rage. Rubbing his knuckles, he took a deep breath. He hadn’t gained much satisfaction, but Dunstan now knew there would be retribution if he tried anything with Sophia.

  During the next three weeks, Sophia barely saw Caleb because he worked long hours on his railroad, he was overseeing construction of a house on Adams, and he would leave soon for New Orleans.

  She looked up late on Thursday afternoon as the bell jingled in the office, and Caleb came through the door. Her pulse raced; she realized how much he had changed in just three weeks. He had gained weight and looked healthier. His new clothes made him dashing and she ached for him. She moved around the desk, hurrying to him, wanting to throw her arms around his neck.

  He held her, smiling down at her. “You’re determined to stir gossip. Everybody passing on the street can see us.”

  “They won’t bother to look. Newspaper offices aren’t that enticing.”

  He pushed her toward the hallway to the
back and as soon as they were in the shadowed hall, he tightened his arms around her to kiss her. Her heart pounded with joy and she returned his kiss, sliding her hands along his thighs.

  He raised his head. “I want to take you home,” he said in a husky voice, desire evident in his gaze. “And I brought house plans from our architect. I want you to tell me what you want in our house.”

  “Oh, Caleb. Our house sounds so marvelous!”

  “I want to give you something as grand as anything owned by the Brinkleys or Mansfields or Neelys or Fontaines.”

  “I don’t need anything grand! I just want to be with you, Caleb.”

  “I would give you the world if I could.” He held her tightly. “I have to go to New Orleans. I wish you’d come with me.”

  “Caleb, we’ve been over this. I won’t start a flurry of gossip and I can’t leave the paper.”

  He groaned and released her. “Sophia, we haven’t settled anything about your paper, but I don’t want my wife down here working every day. I want you home.” He leaned forward and kissed her quickly and lightly as she opened her mouth to protest.

  “Get your bonnet and let’s go home and look at the architectural plans.”

  “Unfair, Caleb. You know I was ready to say something to you about the paper.”

  “You can at home,” he said with a wink.

  Later as he rolled up the plans and leaned back on his chair at the kitchen table, he gazed at her. “As soon as I talk to my family, we’ll set our wedding date.”

  She looked away and frowned and he turned her head toward him. “Why the worry?”

  “I was thinking about my brothers. Amos and Morris killed in different places, John still unaccounted for. I wish I could bring them home to Elmwood Cemetery where Papa is buried.”

  “So many were killed who were unidentified. They’re buried in mass graves; I’m sorry. That’s what they did at Shiloh.”

  “I still hope for John to come home.”

  Caleb squeezed her shoulder. “Maybe he will.”

  “You don’t think so after all this time.”

  Caleb kissed her cheek. “Hold to your hope. I did for years with Fortune. It makes absence easier. Sophia, we need to set a wedding date.”

  “I want Rafe and Chantal here, so we’ll have to plan around the expected babe.”

  Caleb groaned. “That means we’ll have to wait until she can travel.”

  “Caleb, they have to be here for the wedding. And you want Fortune to come. I need to get my dress made, and you want to have the house built.”

  “Don’t you want to marry me?” he asked teasingly.

  She smiled and squeezed him. “Have I acted as if I don’t?” she said, stroking him, knowing he was already aroused.

  “Sophia—” He groaned and raised her face to kiss him.

  Two nights later as he rode to the hotel from Sophia’s, he turned and went to the Shamrock Saloon where he joined Will at poker.

  By two in the morning Caleb’s stack of winnings had grown and he stared at the four, five, six, eight, and nine of diamonds.

  He pushed money to the center of the table.

  “O’Brien! O’Brien!”

  Caleb raised his head as Jess Hanly, the blacksmith, ran toward him. He waved his hand. “Merrick’s newspaper office is burning! We need everyone to come fight the fire!”

  Caleb jumped up, rushing from the saloon as men joined him, everyone running for the office. He leapt into the saddle and turned his horse. “Where’s Sophia?” he hollered at Jess.

  “I don’t know. We just saw the flames.”

  He heard the fire bell clanging and saw the horse-drawn fire wagon from the Pioneer Hook and Ladder Company. Feeling a need to get to Sophia as quickly as possible, he raced down the street winding his way to her house. The house was dark and he was tempted to go back to fight the fire and let her sleep through it. Knowing she would want to be there, he dismounted and ran across the porch, pounding on the door before taking his key to unlock it.

  “Sophia!” he called.

  The bedroom door opened and Sophia appeared in her white cotton nightgown.

  “Hurry and dress. The newspaper office is on fire.”

  “Oh, no!” She spun away, and he paced the floor until she returned. Her hair was tied behind her head and she wore a deep blue poplin dress.

  He lifted her to ride sideways in front of him. “I won’t let you fall, and your skirts will cover your legs.”

  “Caleb!” Her voice was stricken and she grasped his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. A spiral of gray smoke spun upward over Memphis and orange sparks shot high in the night sky. And he remembered the night they had fled Memphis and turned to look back and had seen smoke rising over the town.

  “It was Papa’s office,” she said quietly.

  When they neared the fire, he hitched his horse to a rail in front of a darkened building a block away. “I can’t take my horse closer.” He lifted her down and then dismounted.

  As fireman pumped, water gushed from hoses; the inside of the brick building was a raging inferno. Bucket brigades had formed and everyone was trying to contain the fire and save the adjoining buildings. They joined the bucket brigade, Sophia taking a heavy, sloshing bucket of cold water and passing it to a man. “What caused the fire?” she asked.

  The man shrugged. Another in a line across from Caleb glanced at him and looked away.

  “I’ll give a reward for any information about the fire,” Caleb announced loudly.

  Sophia shivered even though heat from the fire enveloped her. Acrid smoke burned her eyes and throat while water spilled on her dress and arms. The crowd grew, standing and staring or falling into line to help with the buckets of water. A few women were in the crowd and as she glanced around, she felt a shock. Wrapped in a silk cape with Dunstan beside her, Hannah Lou stood watching. One corner of Dunstan’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. He looked smug and satisfied. Had Dunstan caused the fire? Staring at him, she paused, she felt a hot swift rush of anger.

  Hannah Lou said something to him and the two of them came toward her.

  “Sophia, I’m so sorry!” Hannah Lou said while Dunstan grinned.

  In that moment she hated him more than she had ever hated anyone in her life. Lifting her chin, she continued passing buckets of water. Beyond the next line, she saw Caleb manning a hose with the firemen.

  “How sad the paper that condemned me is burning,” Dunstan said, close behind her.

  “I’ll start again,” she said bravely. She couldn’t start over. All her money had gone to her new house and getting the Weekly printed. She had a small savings, but not enough to buy another Hoe press like the one Papa had purchased. And she didn’t want Caleb to give her one when he was spending all his funds for his railroad.

  “We’ll go home now, Hannah Lou,” Dunstan said. As Hannah Lou turned away, Dunstan leaned closed behind Sophia. “It looks as if you’re out of business. Misfortune often comes in pairs, Sophia.”

  She ignored him, passing buckets. The blaze burned itself out, and they kept it from consuming another building. When the bucket brigade stopped, Caleb appeared. His arms and legs were soaked. “Let’s go to my hotel and let me change clothes and then I’ll see you home.”

  She nodded stiffly, trying to keep control of her emotions. A paper blew against her skirt and she picked it up. It was the last edition of The River Weekly. Caleb folded it, pushing it into his pocket. They walked to the hotel where she sat alone in the silent lobby. The tall clock beside a post chimed, the bell clanging four times. Four o’clock in the morning. Soon it would be daylight. Caleb came down the stairs and her spirits lifted momentarily. He wore tight black pants and a fresh blue chambray shirt and he looked irrepressible.

  “Thank heaven you’re here in Memphis and not off fighting a war when this happened. You have given me much support and strength.”

  “You’d have done fine without me, because you always have.”

  Half
way to her house on a dark, empty street she turned her head against his chest and cried. His arm tightened around her. Finally she wiped her tears away, thinking of Dunstan, knowing it would only fuel Caleb’s anger to tell him her suspicions.

  In her kitchen Caleb poured two glasses of brandy and handed her one and she remembered other nights they had sat up together.

  “You introduced me to spirits, Caleb.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “I’ll be your downfall, love.”

  “I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.” She raised his hand to kiss his knuckles, slanting a look at him.

  “You’ve been through much, Sophia, and you’re brave. Come sit on my lap.”

  She moved around the table and in minutes he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  It wasn’t until after nine the next morning when he was in his hotel room that he pulled the edition of The River Weekly from his pocket and smoothed it on the desk, glancing over the articles.

  “The Memphis & Arkansas Railroad will open the way to the West.” Since when had Sophia started supporting the railroads? He scanned the article, “The new line proposed by local businessman Caleb O’Brien, will open the way to Texas and the frontier and bring more dollars to Memphis.”

  “Great saints!” He sat down and read the article. He let it fall on his knee and stared into space, standing and peeling off his clothes to wash and change. When did Sophia change her mind about railroads?

  He planned to leave Tuesday afternoon for New Orleans and Darcy was coming back to Memphis with him. There were things Caleb had to do before he left town.

  After two errands, it was time for his appointment with three prospective investors, Willard Heaton, Horace Dooley, and Robert Blodgett. Willard Heaton was president of Security National Bank, and they met in his office. With a fortune in silver, Heaton had returned to Memphis to invest in land and banking. Tall, with black eyes and a massive black beard, he came around his desk to shake hands with Caleb. “Morning, Caleb. You know Robert Blodgett.”

  Caleb nodded and shook the limp soft hand of a man who owned steamboats and looked too pale to have ever been out on any of them. He gazed at Caleb through rimless spectacles as he smiled.