The Whistle Walk: A Civil War Novel (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 1)

by Stephenia H. McGee

  For the most part, life returned to normal, and they took up the same duties because it was what they knew. But they laughed a little more and dared to hope even when it seemed impossible.

  Ruth swiped her rag along the top of the piano and wondered what it might be like to learn to play someday. Could she train her fingers to coax out a melody? Lucy’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  “I heard there was Union soldiers marchin’ through town.”

  Ruth’s pulse quickened, and she turned to watch Lucy absently polish the brass bottom of a lamp as if she’d merely commented on the weather.

  “Who done told you that?”

  Lucy worked the rag across the surface, her thumbs coaxing a shine from the metal. “Tommy. He saw ’em hisself yesterday when he went for supplies.”

  Ruth pressed her lips together. That couldn’t be good. Already they’d heard the battle of Corinth was a massive defeat. The Confederates had failed in their attempt to recover the railways. Nearly every day Lydia decided there was something they needed from town and sent Tommy after it. She never left the grounds anymore.

  They all knew the real reason he went. He went to check the lists that came in with weary men and were nailed to the posts. The real reason Tommy went to Oakville was to see if Mr. Harper was listed among the dead.

  Every time he returned, Lydia met him on the front steps. But so far, no news of Mr. Harper.

  “What you think that means?” Ruth asked.

  Lucy shrugged and looked up from her task. “I don’t know. It might not mean nothing. They might just be getting supplies as they pass through.”

  “Maybe.” Ruth wasn’t so sure. If they were here, and here in any numbers, then all of Ironwood had plenty of reasons to worry.

  “Might be better if they is here.”

  Ruth frowned. “Why would you say that?”

  Lucy sat down the lamp and came closer. “Think ’bout it. Mrs. Harper’s done said some crazy things. Men ’round these parts ain’t going to like that none. You know that. You know they been coming after people who they think are copperheads.”

  “What?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Don’t you listen to nothing? That’s what they call it. Folks that live down here but side with the North. They call ’em copperheads.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. What’s it matter? They for sure done called Mrs. Harper one.”

  Ruth got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  “So the way I sees it, if the Union troops is here and we is in support of the North, then maybe we is safer with them.”

  Ruth rubbed her arms against the chill creeping over them and went to poke at the fire, hoping it would push out more heat. When the heat spell had finally broken, October had fallen into a deep chill.

  A heavy pounding on the front door caused both of them to jump. Ruth set down the fire poker. “I got it.”

  She opened the door and felt all the blood drain from her face. Men dressed in blue uniforms swarmed on the porch and flowed down over the front steps. One unusually tall man proudly stood in the front of all of them, filling the doorway. Ruth drew in a sharp breath and stared at them, unable to get any words to come out.

  The man cleared his throat.

  “I, um….” She glanced behind her. Should she slam the door in their face? Tell them to leave? What if what Lucy said was right? She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, sir. You done gone and caught me unawares.” She smoothed the front of her dress. “Good mornin’. How can I help you?”

  The man studied her, his gaze drifting over her dress and back up to her face. Did he wonder why a colored woman wore a lady’s dress? Could he tell that Ironwood was different from any other plantation he might have chosen just by looking at her? She caught no disgusting glimmer in his eyes as he looked her over, only curiosity.

  “I would speak to the man of the house.” He gave a small nod. “If you would be so kind as to get him.”

  Ruth glanced around behind her. Where was Lucy? How much should she say? She leaned to the side and looked at the men behind him. The officer followed her gaze.

  “I don’t think the parlor can hold all y’all. You can make y’allselves comfortable here on the porch.” She bowed her head and closed the door before he could object, sliding the lock into place. She didn’t care what Lucy said. She wasn’t letting them in the house.

  She turned and ran up the stairs, throwing open Lydia’s door without knocking. Lydia sat at her desk, writing. The door slammed against the wall, causing Lydia to drop her pen, and it rolled across the floor.

  “Ruth! What in—”

  “Miss Lydia! Union soldiers. They’s on the front porch!”

  Lydia gasped and scrambled to her feet. “What should I do? What did they say?”

  “They knocked on the door and asked to talk to the gentleman of the house. That’s all.”

  Lydia wrung her hands and started pacing the floor, mumbling to herself like a madwoman. “I suppose I will have to go and speak to them. It’s too much to hope now that they will leave us in peace.”

  “Lucy says we might be safe with them. Since the Southerners done called you a cottonmouth.”

  Lydia stopped pacing and stared at her. “What?”

  Ruth shook her head. No, that wasn’t it. She waved her hands in the air, exasperated. “Some kind of snake. Something ’bout southerners who side with the North.”

  “Copperheads,” Lydia whispered.

  “That was it.” Ruth bobbed her head. “She says it might be good the Union soldiers is here.”

  Lydia gave her a long look. “There are a lot of things Lucy doesn’t understand.”

  Before Ruth could think of a reply, Lydia spoke again. “How many?”

  “Looks like seven or eight out there on the porch. I’m not sure if there is more hiding somewheres else.”

  A long pause. “Tell them whoever represents them can wait in the parlor. I will speak with him. But I do not wish to be that far outnumbered.”

  Ruth nodded and hurried down the stairs, opening the door to find the man still standing quietly on the porch, his expression a strange mix of annoyance and amusement.

  “My mistress says she’ll speak with you, but the others got to wait outside.”

  He raised his bushy brows. “I will be accompanied by my men.”

  Ruth shook her head. “No, sir.”

  The amusement washed from his face, and Ruth’s chest constricted. He towered over her like a bear. “Then I shall offer you but one compromise. Half of us will come, and half will stay. It is the only offer you will receive.”

  Ruth swallowed hard and opened the door. The officer motioned to some of his men, and three of them followed him into the foyer. Ruth closed the door and locked it behind her, unsure if she was locking the danger out or in.

  She led them to the parlor, wondering where Lucy had disappeared to. She gestured the men into the room and then pulled the doors together behind them. She pressed her back against the seam of the doors and tried to force her breathing to slow.

  Ruth felt each thud of her heart pass like time was trying to go uphill through a bog of mud. It must be a half hour by now. Maybe more. How long would she make them wait? Wouldn’t they grow more impatient, and therefore disagreeable, with each lost moment?

  Lydia swept down the stairs wearing one of her best gowns and looking every bit the proper lady. No more free hair and missing hoops. Ruth wondered how she’d gotten everything fastened alone.

  Lydia nodded once, and Ruth opened the door, letting Ironwood’s lady enter with all the regal air she imagined a queen might. These men would do well not to underestimate this one. They had no idea the type of woman that fortified that fancy dress.

  Ruth pulled the door closed and positioned herself against the wall. She would not leave Lydia alone. This was not the time to worry with Lucy’s protocol and tea trays. These men didn’t need tea anyway.

  “Good morning
, gentlemen. I am Mrs. Charles Harper. My husband is away, and I represent Ironwood in his absence. What brings you to our humble farm?”

  The tall man gave a slight bow. “Good day to you, madam. I am Captain Edward Thomas, third in command to General Rosecrans, United States. We have come to request the use of your splendid home as a temporary lodging for my officers and myself.”

  Ruth’s stomach clenched. Lydia didn’t flinch. “And what do you gentlemen expect with your accommodations?”

  There was something in her tone. Something dangerous. Ruth looked at the other men in the room. Two of them exchanged glances and sideways grins.

  Ruth ground her teeth. She’d heard of the President’s Confiscation Act. Free rein to take whatever property they wanted. There’d also been whispers of the army committing “unfathomable acts” against women. Ruth glanced at Lydia. She remained the picture of gracious calm, though Ruth knew there was more to her question.

  The officer knew it too. He shot the two men a disapproving glare. “Meals, clean linens and the use of your third floor.”

  “The ballroom?”

  He shrugged. “It affords a prime view of the encampment.”

  Ruth clenched her hands at her sides, willing her pulse to calm. Even while they came to the door like gentlemen, they’d already defiled Ironwood with their unwelcome advance. Lucy was wrong. There would be no safety here.

  Lydia blanched. “What encampment?”

  “Our troops will settle in the flatland just below the house.”

  Lydia’s composure slipped. “But those are our fields! Soldiers will destroy all hope of our crops. We have not yet finished our harvest, and I need that to pay …. Never mind.” She bit off the words through clenched teeth, her pale face growing rosier with each word.

  Captain Thomas stiffened. “Our presence here provides you a measure of safety. Perhaps you would prefer we chose another location and left your plantation to the mercy of battle?”

  Battle.

  The word crawled through Ruth’s veins. Battle would bring death. And fire. Visions of her burning home rose in her mind, and she began to shake. She wrapped her arms around herself. One of the men noticed her and looked on her too long. She dropped her gaze. Strong. She would have to be strong. Lydia would need her.

  Lydia rose to her full height, little that it was, and spoke as if she were a man were the one with the upper hand. “If I allow you to stay, and my girls and I prepare your meals and tend to your linens, then do I have your word you will leave Ironwood unharmed?”

  He gave a curt nod. “To the best of my ability, you have my word that it will be so.”

  “So be it. I shall hold you to your word on your honor as an officer.”

  “Then we are agreed.”

  Lydia nodded. “How many do you plan to keep here?”

  “I shall require my own sleeping space. My seven men can be divided among what other rooms you have.”

  Lydia gave Ruth a look full of meaning. “Ruth, give the captain my room. We will put three in the blue guest room and two in the green one. Have Tommy bring in sleeping pallets and set up the other two in the drawing room.”

  Confusion swept over her but Ruth did her best to conceal it. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Captain, you can determine which man sleeps where.”

  His brow creased. “Why are my men going on pallets in the drawing room? Surely in a house this size you have more sleeping chambers.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “I have offered you my personal bed, Captain. Surely you do not begrudge me holding rooms for myself and my girls to sleep in?”

  He eyed her cautiously. “No. I suppose I cannot.”

  “And of course you understand if I wish to leave my husband’s room undisturbed since he may return at any time.”

  The muscles in his jaw worked, but he said nothing. She smiled at him like she had no idea why he seemed perturbed, the perfect picture of the beautiful but dense woman he had no doubt expected to find here. Ruth suppressed her grin.

  “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, it seems I have a great deal to tend to. Ruth will see you to your places.” She inclined her head and glided from the room with more grace than Ruth had ever seen her display. The woman was a contradiction, indeed.

  Lord, help us.

  What did she have planned? Why was she giving up her room, and what was that about rooms for her girls? They had rooms over the kitchen.

  Ruth led the men up the stairs and tried to remain calm. With so much uncertainty, Ruth could know only one thing for sure.

  Lydia was up to something.

  “Tommy, I want you to gather up some men and get them to the house. I need several things moved. Ironwood is now occupied.” Lydia glanced around the rear yard from her place on the back porch but saw none of the men in blue. She wanted desperately to pretend it had been a dream and that Ironwood was not under occupied hostility, but she had no time for such childishness now.

  Tommy’s eyes grew wide in his aged face. “I seen the soldiers. More of ’em marched in and went through the big field. Mr. Peck done told me to report to you. I was coming to do just that.”

  The cool October air swirled around them as if it were as agitated by the intruders as she. Lydia tried to control the thoughts clamoring in her head and focus on the man in front of her. “I am aware. They intend to camp here, and I shall have to house the officers.”

  He stared at her.

  “It is the only way I can hope to leave Ironwood unharmed. Yanks have burned many plantations, coming through like a wildfire and destroying everything in their wake. I will protect Ironwood, and this is our best hope.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I knows you’ll do what’s right by all of us. We trust you.”

  Warmth blossomed in her bosom. “I thank you. Knowing that means a great deal to me.”

  “What you need me to help you with?”

  She chewed her lip, checking off the list on her fingers. “I am moving the girls into the house with me, so they will need help moving their things. See if you can find additional locks to put on the first floor bed chamber. I will also need three sleeping mats placed in the drawing room.”

  “Yes ma’am. I’ll see that it’s all done.” He turned to leave, but Lydia reached out and clasped his arm.

  “One other thing,” she whispered.

  He leaned close, and she could smell the scent of horse and hay on his skin.

  “The captain will soon be taking over my bedroom. I have packed a trunk they will assume I am moving into where I’ll be staying. Let them think that. But, somehow, I need you to hide it for me. Somewhere safe.”

  His brow wrinkled, and he searched the garden beyond as if it held the answers he sought. “I don’t know any hidin’ spots that might work for a full-sized trunk, ma’am.”

  “Well, we have to think of something, I need to—”

  She stopped short, the memories of a strange dream descending on her with perfect clarity. The ballroom. The tiny little door. It had called to her, filled with light, as if it were something of great importance. She couldn’t explain it but knew she must trust her intuition.

  She leaned closer to Tommy’s ear. “Upstairs, the third floor. On the left wall, about middle of the room, is a small access door. It’s difficult to see. You might not ever notice it if you were not looking for it. Take the trunk there. Find somewhere behind that door to hide it.”

  He looked at her with uncertain eyes.

  “Please, Tommy. I cannot explain to you why, but I know it is vital that I get that trunk safely away from anywhere the soldiers might see it.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll figure out a way to get it past ’em.”

  Relief flooded her, and she inclined her head. “Thank you, Tommy. I know I can always rely on you.”

  “Ma’am, there’s something else you needs to know.”

  Something in his voice caused a feeling of dread to settle on her like a wet shawl. How many more things cou
ld go wrong? Oh, Charles. Why did you have to leave? How could she do this on her own?

  “What is it?”

  “Three more of them foremen left. They said they might come back after Mr. Harper comes back and this place is back to… normal.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so? That’s what they said?”

  Tommy shifted his gaze to the ground. “Well, that’s not exactly what they said.”

  “So what was it then?”

  “They said the lady done gone mad and would run the plantation to the ground. They wouldn’t stick ’round to take orders from a power-hungry female.”

  Heat rose in her face. Mad indeed. All she did was for the good of the people. But they were too blind to see it. “Is that all?”

  “Yes, ma’am. They said they would come back to work when Mr. Harper came home and got a proper handle on his wife.” He cringed as he said it. From fear of her reaction or from insult on her behalf? No matter. She would remain in control.

  “Very well. That is their choice. I would not have any stay who resist my lead or the new ways of Ironwood. We work together by consent, not force.”

  Tommy’s eyes glistened. “And for that ma’am, you got the hearts of every colored left on this here land.”

  A small smile tugged on the corner of her lips. “As they have mine. Now, there is much to be done. I fear we have little time. Tell the people to remain strong. We must bear up under this yolk. We will survive it.” She tried to fill her words with more conviction than she really felt, hoping her words would prove true. Their very lives depended on it.

  “I will.” He dipped his chin and descended the steps, looking spry for a man of his years. Lydia turned her attention to the kitchen. Time to inform the others they would be moving.

  She descended the steps and placed her foot on the walkway. The whistle walk. She smiled and strode down it. Her path would be one of her own choosing.

  She found Betsy in the kitchen, but instead of being in her usual place with her hands in some sort of dough, the round woman paced back and forth, her eyes studying the contents of the shelves lining the wall.