“Not in Maryland, Isaac,” Annie answered as gently as she could. “The Emancipation Proclamation only applies in states that seceded from the Union, those states in rebellion. Maryland stayed with the Union, and so slavery is still condoned there. If he makes it across the Potomac River, he might be able to sell Rachel and Lenah back into slavery.”
“We’ll get them back,” Jamie spoke. No swagger, no yipping in his voice—just calm confidence.
“And how will you do that?” It was Laurence.
Jamie looked at him, looked at Annie, thought for an instant. “I’ve got to ride out now.”
“You can’t do that. You’re only a…” Laurence stopped himself, swallowed, recalibrated. “You can’t do it alone, Jamie.”
“That’s right, you can’t,” said Annie. “I’ll go too.”
“No,” said Laurence. “I forbid it. I’ll go.”
The three siblings looked at one another, there in the light of a few candles, held in shaking hands. Annie had the sense to wait, wait for Laurence to remember. But Jamie blurted, “Look at you, Laurence. You can’t ride.”
“I can!” Laurence shouted, a desperate rage in his voice. “I can ride!”
“Maybe you can ride, but you can’t hold a gun, too,” Jamie countered.
The agony of being helpless, no longer able to defend those he cared about, overwhelmed Laurence. He pounded the wall with his good hand. “I can!” His head fell against the wall and he cried out, “What will I tell Sam? Sam saved me. What will I tell him if his wife is lost and I did nothing?”
Annie ached for Laurence. But his anguish was wasting precious minutes. A strange calm settled on her as well. She took Laurence’s face and held it in her hands so that he looked at her. “Brother, there is no time. With every moment Murdock gets farther away. You tell Sam this. You had the sense to send Jamie and me to find her.” Laurence stared at her. She went on. “They’re drunk. We’ll surprise them and get Rachel and Lenah back. It’ll be easy. There’s no other choice, Laurence. You know it. Jamie can’t do this alone.”
Slowly, Laurence’s eyes cleared. A look he must have worn in battle came over him. He nodded.
Annie kissed his cheek. “It will be all right.”
“We’d better hurry,” said Jamie. He turned to Isaac. “I’ve got only one Colt loaded. You need to help me. Annie’s going to need two revolvers as well.”
“I need some breeches, Jamie,” said Annie.
“For this I need to play a man’s part.”
“Lord preserve us,” muttered Aunt May.
“Missus Miriam, forgive me.”
“Where are we going?” Annie called through the moonlit darkness. Jamie was in front. Although Annie was the better rider, Jamie had been traversing these paths in the night for the past year. He knew his way better than she. At a canter, through the woods, that knowledge was crucial to their safety.
“To Seneca Fords,” he called back.
“But that’s near Dranesville. There’ll be Federal pickets everywhere. Why would they ride that way?”
“Easier crossing,” said Jamie. “And Murdock knows that Mosby will be furious about this scheme and likely send out riders to stop him. Major Mosby goes by the law, you know, no matter what people say about his tactics.”
Annie fell silent. She knew they’d better not talk much if they wanted to catch Murdock by surprise. Jamie hadn’t even allowed them to take canteens of water that might clink against the saddle and give them away. She was already panting from thirst.
Annie shifted the two Union-made revolvers that were shoved into her belt. Lord, they were heavy, horrible things. She’d watched Isaac load them as Jamie prepared more for himself. The revolver was loaded through its six-shot cylinder. To fill a cylinder, Isaac inserted a skin-gut cartridge containing powder and a conical bullet, which he rammed in with the loading lever from under the barrel. He repeated the process six times. Finally, he put a copper percussion cap, which would ignite when struck by the pistol’s hammer, into the notch of each chamber. It seemed to take forever. No wonder Jamie always went off on his raids with at least two guns already loaded and ready. And at that, he’d have only twelve shots. That’s all she’d have tonight if, God forbid, she needed to defend herself. She’d never even fired a gun before.
“The Colt tends to shoot high,” Laurence had told her before she left. “Aim for the stomach to hit the heart.”
She shuddered at the thought. Please, God, help me tonight.
They rode on. They’d been out almost an hour now, riding at a good clip. She shifted in her saddle and smiled for a moment about the pants she wore. They certainly made riding easier. They’d made running to the stable a lot easier, as well. She couldn’t help wishing that she could wear them all the time. Her hair was yanked back and shoved into a hat, too, no fuss with braids and combs. With their clothes, at least, boys sure had it easy.
Ahead of her, Jamie waved his hand and slowed his horse. She brought hers down to a trot and then a walk. She tried to shorten its stride to make it quieter. For a moment, she choked on the thought of Angel and how silently she’d glide through the night.
She pulled next to Jamie and stopped. He pointed to his ear and then ahead. She listened. In the distance, she heard cussing.
“Someone’s fallen off his horse,” Jamie breathed. “Probably Charlie. Can’t ride worth a lick when he drinks.” He eased a pistol out of his belt.
“We’ve got to charge in. If they have time to pull their guns, we’re lost. Stay right behind me. Let me talk. Ready?”
Annie nodded, her heart pounding.
“Take out your gun, then, Annie.” Jamie grinned and booted his horse into a gallop.
It all happened in a blur. Rushing through the trees, holding up the heavy gun, Annie was way off balance as they crashed out of the woods into a clearing.
“Stop right there!” shouted Jamie.
Annie fumbled to aim her pistol at the man accompanying Murdock. He pointed his at her at the very moment she lined up on him. When she heard him cock the hammer of his gun, she did the same. They were in a standoff, gun pointed at gun. Aim for his stomach, aim for his stomach, she repeated to herself, trembling.
Murdock had indeed been thrown and was on the ground. Jamie had his revolver inches from his head and was circling him with his horse, preventing Murdock from reaching his own. “Tell your friend to drop the gun or I’ll fill you full of lead, Murdock.”
Murdock said nothing.
“I mean it, Murdock. Andy there can shoot a squirrel off a tree a hundred yards away. Your friend may get off one shot, but he won’t live to talk about it.”
Andy, who in the world is Andy? thought Annie. Then she realized. It was she! Annie tried to look mean and was grateful that the half moon could shed only so much light on her face.
“All right,” snarled Murdock. He told his friend to back off. The pistol facing Annie was lowered. She kept hers aimed.
“Now cut Rachel and Lenah loose,” Jamie ordered.
Murdock did it.
“I’m going to have to take you boys back to Mosby, you know. This kind of rascality doesn’t sit with the major. Give me your gun, Charlie.”
Murdock did.
“And the other two in your coat.”
Cursing, Murdock complied again.
Annie marveled at it all. Jamie thought of everything. He instructed Murdock onto the mule. He had Rachel tie his hands and tether the mule to Jamie’s horse. Lenah dealt with Murdock’s friend. Jamie obviously was practiced in securing prisoners. Rachel and Lenah were not, however, tying the hands of Murdock and his friend loosely, in front of them, instead of behind their backs. Still, nothing went wrong until Lenah and Rachel were on Murdock’s horse, Murdock and his partner on the mule, and they were ready to go.
That’s when Rachel got a good look at Annie. “Annie?” she gasped.
“Annie?” snarled Murdock. He shouted at his companion, “She’s nothing but a girl!”
He kicked the mule, making it rear and ram into Jamie’s horse. While Murdock grabbed at Jamie, his friend slid off the mule and ran toward Annie. She saw him reach to his belt and pull something out that gleamed momentarily before the rope fell away from his hands. A knife!
Aim for the stomach, aim for the stomach! Annie cocked the hammer and squeezed the trigger. It seemed to take forever to fire.
BLAM! The kick from the revolver felt like a lightning bolt going up her arm. Annie reeled from it, the horse bucked and lunged, but somehow she stuck to the saddle.
The bullet seemed to ricochet off the ground and clip the man’s leg. Cussing, he stumbled, dropped his knife, and grabbed his ankle, falling to the ground.
“Jamie!”
Murdock had scrambled onto Jamie’s horse and was trying to choke Jamie from behind with his rope-bound hands.
“Get off him,” Annie shouted. Somehow, her anger and terror turned into a cold-blooded force. She kicked her horse over to him and got the revolver right up beside the nape of his neck before Murdock could pull his hands up over Jamie’s head to attack her.
“Don’t move. Not an inch. I may be just a girl, but this is my brother and you’re not going to harm him.”
Murdock stiffened and sat still.
This time it was Annie’s turn. “Rachel, come here.”
“Annie, I’m so sorry,” Rachel stammered when she reached the horse’s neck. “I shouldn’t have said—”
“It’s all right,” Annie interrupted her. “Pull that other gun out of my belt. Aim it at him. At his stomach,” she added.
Soon, positions were corrected. Murdock again sat on the mule. His partner sat behind him. This time Jamie did the tying.
But the night still didn’t end correctly. They weren’t the only ones who had heard the shot that Annie had fired.
CHAPTER THIRTY
November 2, 1863
Hickory Heights
“How bad is it, Laurence?” Annie hovered behind her brother as he tried to pull the blanket up over Jamie.
“Confound it,” Laurence mumbled. “I never realized how dependent I was on my right hand.”
“Oh, Laurence, forgive me.” Annie felt like a fool for standing there watching an amputated man struggle with the covers. She arranged the bed, all the while watching Jamie breathe, in-out, in-out, peaceful. Like this, he looked just as he had when he was five years old and Annie tucked him in for the night. A person would never know to look at him that there was a huge gash in his side.
“It’s not bad, Annie. He’ll be all right. The bullet basically glanced off him, just left a slice as it flew by. We got it sewn up just fine. You did all the right things. Mother taught you well, you see?”
Annie could feel her eyes grow as big as walnuts as he spoke. Tears built up and fell, tears of relief. It was then, and only then, that instinct and its surge of strength gave way and she fell into a chair. Suddenly, she felt as if her feet weighed three hundred pounds apiece.
Laurence collapsed into a chair beside her. “Laurence,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry he got hurt. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just got so confused…”
“Honey”—Laurence took her hand—“don’t apologize. I’ve been in enough skirmishes to know how hellish, how confusing it all is. I’m ashamed you had to do my work for me. I should have been there, not you, such a slip of a girl, even with all your courage.” He paused and then said bitterly, “I’m nothing now, nothing but a worthless scrap of a man….” His voice trailed off. He sighed heavily. “I’ve been thinking, Annie, that I should release Charlotte from our engagement. She shouldn’t be saddled with me now. Tonight really showed me that.”
“Laurence, hush. You let Charlotte decide for herself whether she wants this magnificent hero, a man who gave everything for his country, as her husband. I think she’ll say yes.”
Laurence stared into the distance for a long time. Then he shook himself. “See, here I am worrying about myself. I’m sorry. Hospitals and prisons do things to your ability to think straight. Tell me again what happened.”
Annie took a deep breath and began—what she could remember about it, anyway. It had been such a nightmare; while parts of it were crystal clear, others were murky and blurred. “We were going back into the woods. Everything seemed fine. You would have been so proud of Jamie. He was amazing, Laurence, truly—in command, knew exactly what to do. But we had had a little trouble in the clearing. I’d fired a shot. And I guess pickets heard us. Just as we slipped back into the trees and I was thinking all was well, I heard this voice telling me to halt and identify myself. Jamie pretended we were Federals and answered that we were on patrol for Colonel Lowell. For a moment they seemed to believe him, but then Murdock’s friend called out: ‘They’re Mosby men and there are more coming up right behind us.’
“Well, they opened fire on us, Laurence. Shows how scared they are of Mosby, I suppose. They hit Jamie right away. The mule went down, too. Murdock got up and ran, even as trussed up as we had him. But his partner was killed. He didn’t move afterward, not a twist. Jamie somehow sat up and started firing back, so I did too, into the underbrush. It’s so overgrown right there, a tangle of blackberry bushes and wild roses, Laurence; I couldn’t see anything, until…until…” This was the part she recalled precisely, every inch, every sound, every horror of it. “Until this boy stood straight up out of the bushes and aimed his musket at me. He was maybe twenty feet away, Laurence. I saw the end of the gun, like a cavern it seemed, and I pulled the trigger on my pistol. It sounded click, click. I knew I was dead; but the boy seemed to be having trouble with his gun, too. So I squeezed one last time and it fired. That boy, Laurence, that boy just seemed to explode in front of me. I…I…oh God.” Annie leaned over and retched. She felt she might cough up her heart, she was so sick.
“It’s all right, honey, all right.” Laurence held her as best he could. “I know how you feel. I do. The first time I shot a man, I felt like shooting myself, too. But you were defending yourself, Annie. Praise God, you’re safe. I don’t know how you managed to get everyone home, but you did, honey. My brave little sister—you’re the hero today.”
Even Mosby, when he visited Jamie two days later, complimented her valor. It was terse, but noteworthy, as Mosby was not one for compliments. All the same, it meant little to Annie. All she could see was that boy crumpling up before her. We few, we happy few? Annie no longer agreed with that concept of war’s glory. She simply felt like a murderer.
“What is it General Stuart calls you?” Mosby asked. “Lady Liberty? I think the general is right.” The major bowed formally and then sat across from her in the parlor to begin amassing evidence against Murdock. While some northern Virginia residents adored Mosby, and others grumbled about how they suffered retaliations and constant searches because of him, none doubted the benefit to the area in terms of policing. Because Mosby, ever the lawyer, was tenacious in his pursuit and prosecution of horse and cattle thieves, deserters who typically did the stealing and plagued the South did not stay long in Fauquier or Loudoun. Mosby also didn’t want grain wasted in the production of whiskey, and he kept the area sober by having his men search out and destroy stills. He settled disputes over property. His word had become law, returning some semblance of order to the war-torn area.
“What did Murdock say he was up to?” Mosby asked.
Annie told him.
“And the women in question were previously freed by your brother?”
“Rachel was, Major. I’m not sure of Lenah’s status.” Annie explained how Lenah had come to live with them, hired from her owner by her father and sent west to them for safety.
“But Murdock does not own her?”
“No.”
“Has no claim to her in any way?”
“No.”
Mosby nodded. “Then he is akin to a horse thief and will be hanged when we catch him.”
Annie cringed at Mosby’s likening Lenah to a horse. Mosby had a reputation for
being blunt, cantankerous, harsh in sentencing. Annie could see why.
As often as Mosby had passed through their home—dropping off captured horses for stabling, instructing Jamie to gather the men, devouring hasty meals—Annie had never really had a long talk with him. She hadn’t noticed before how truly tiny he was, only a few inches taller than she.
After his questioning, he tried to be conversational. “You remind me of my wife when she was young,” Mosby said. He stared at Annie a moment. She knew of Mosby’s wife, a beautiful, extremely well-educated woman with a great deal of pluck. She’d come to visit Mosby that summer, and one night had held Union soldiers searching for him at bay purely by her witticisms as Mosby hid in a tree outside their bedroom window.
Mosby continued, “She’s Catholic, too, you know, as I assume your Irish ancestors were. Her father was a U.S. congressman and a diplomat, but he lost his run for governor of Kentucky because his wife is Catholic. My friends worried what Pauline’s religion might do to my law career. Religious prejudices are so unyielding, aren’t they? But I told them she knew all about the Crusades, Henry VIII and the Tudors, Rob Roy, Robin Hood. Her mind captivated me. I had to marry her.”
He stood abruptly. Annie did the same.
“I’ve sent men out to apprehend Murdock,” he said. “But I fear he may have made it into Colonel Lowell’s camp.”
Annie went cold all over. “Colonel Lowell?”
“Yes, of the 2nd Massachusetts. One of the few worthy opponents I’ve had.” Mosby nodded his head and said as he left: “Tell James to mend. I have need of him in a few days.”
Annie sank back into her chair. In Colonel Lowell’s camp? What would Murdock tell them? What would Lowell do with the information? Would he come with his cavalry to arrest her and Jamie? And what would Thomas think?
It wouldn’t take long for Annie to find out.
Three weeks later, in a bone-chilling rain, on the night of November twenty-second, Lowell arrived in Middleburg with 250 cavalry. Following Murdock’s information, the Union riders dispersed, heading for homes the Confederate traitor had identified as Mosby safe houses. Their searches were swift and successful, capturing twenty Mosby rangers, thirty-some horses, bridles, and two dozen Colt revolvers. They would have caught more had Mosby not taken seventy-five of his riders that very night on a raid on the Orange & Alexandria railroad. Jamie was with them.
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