Scarlet Leaves

by Sonya Birmingham

  Obviously trying to control her emotions, she met him with silence.

  "Has someone insulted you? Said something about you?" he asked, a protective feeling rising within him at the thought of anyone hurting her.

  Silky stared at Taggart, her heart lurching. The moment had arrived. It was time to tell him what was in her heart and ask for her favor. For a moment the words that she'd held back all through lunch faltered on her lips, but his insistent gaze demanded an answer.

  Building up her courage, she lowered her eyes. "All right, but first tell me about your new assignment," she countered, looking up to find him watching her intently. "Will you be in Virginia? Will you have some type of deadline to meet?"

  Taggart's expression clouded. "Yes, I'll be in Virginia," he admitted reluctantly. He sighed, his manner guarded. "And I'll have some freedom as far as time goes, but I can't reveal anything else." His jaw tensed and from his implacable countenance, she realized that he wouldn't give her more information about the assignment. His face slowly softening, he cupped her chin. "Nowtell me what happened while we were apart."

  "I-I visited the courthouse this morningbefore I bought you the gloves and muffler," she began softly. His face first registered shock, then sympathy and understanding, and she realized he knew about the lists on the doors.

  "Daniel?"

  She let out a tremulous breath. "Yes ... he's been wounded and he's in Chimborazo Military Hospital in Richmond." Now that she'd broached the subject the words tumbled from her mouth in a rush, expressing all her pent-up emotions. "Who knows how badly he's hurt?" she added, panic tightening her throat. "He may be hanging on to life this very minute. I can't tell you how I felt when I saw his namelike all the breath had been knocked out of me."

  Taggart's mouth curved with tenderness. "He probably isn't wounded as seriously as you think," he advised, his hand sliding to her shoulder in a reassuring caress. "Even if he's only slightly wounded, if he can't walk, he would be hospitalized."

  She spread her fingers in frustration. "But I can't depend on that. I need to go there and see how he is. He'd do the same for meI know he would. I'll write Charlie and tell him about Daniel, and mention he'll need to look after the place a while longer." She grasped his hand. "I don't know how much the ticket will be, but I can sell my horse and saddleand my rifle, too. That Henry will fetch a fine priceI'm certain-sure of it!"

  Taggart looked into her frightened eyes, feeling his gut tighten with emotion. From the reports he'd been given, Richmond was presently a city at hell's gate.

  "I could scrape the fare together, I know I could," she went on with fierce determination. "I've never been farther than Charlottesville, and I have no idea where this hospital is, but the people in Richmond will probably help me."

  Taggart listened to her in amazement. Although the Confederate command tried to keep Richmond patrolled, it had become a magnet for sharpers and opportunists and was exactly the type of place an inexperienced young woman like herself shouldn't visit. Once the capital fell to Grant, which was now a virtual certainty, Northern riffraff would also pour in like vultures, making the place even more treacherous.

  She sat forward. "I'm going," she said decisively. "I've laid it out in my mind that I will," she vowed, her soft voice steeled with determination. Moisture glistened in her eyes. "Will you come with me?" she asked brokenly. "If your assignment is in that vicinity, will you help me get there?"

  Taggart stood, trying to cut off her statement, trying to stop her pleading request that had obviously taken so much courage to verbalize. They must say good-bye today. Their relationship had to end. Already he'd foolishly let his headstrong heart bring them to this pass. Now was the time for discipline, no matter how much it hurt. "No," he firmly replied, feeling the words cut something inside of him as he spoke. "I cannot go with you. And you must not go yourself."

  Her stricken expression pulled at his heart, but he kept speaking, trying to forestall her folly. "Richmond is a city coming apart, a large, dangerous city, filled with pitfalls for someone like yourself. You must not go there. I'll arrange for you to stay here, then when the weather''

  Silky stood, clutching his arms. "You don't understand," she exclaimed, her voice laced with frustration. "I must go. I must go, for my brother might be dying." Her voice gained strength and fire. "And I will go, if I have to ride the train, or ride a horse, or even walk." Tears sparkled in her lovely eyes. "I'm going to Richmond," she vowed passionately, "and no one can stop menot even you!" For moments her determined gaze clung to his; then she crossed her arms and began restlessly pacing about the room.

  Damn, Taggart thought, the little firebrand will go or die trying. That flinty mountain will of hers had asserted itself, and he knew that at this point, no one could stop her, short of binding her to a bedpost. Courage like that inspired his admiration even though it was misguided. How many people crept through life, not caring deeply about anyone, even their own kin? Plenty of people, most of them, in factbut not Silky Shanahan.

  He wanted to think of her safe in Sweet Gum Hollow or at least here in Charlottesville, in a regional town where people would be more sympathetic to her mountain ways. Once she was in Richmondif she wasn't killed trying to get thereand the rascals heard her soft drawl and saw those clear green eyes, she would be as a sheep among wolves. The thought of what could happen to her there left a sick feeling in his stomach.

  Then, as he studied Silky's stricken face, an idea exploded in his headan idea that attracted and repulsed him at the same time with equal force. Since Richmond was only a short train ride north of the Petersburg line, it would be possible to live in Richmond and travel back and forth to Petersburg for his work. As an added bonus, if he were staying in Richmond for the rest of the war, instead of Petersburg, Caroline Willmott could introduce him into Confederate society, where he might glean some extra bits of information. That was the positive side of the situationand it glittered with staggering potential. On the negative side, he would once again be using Silky without her knowledge to spy on her beloved South.

  Silky walked to him and, grasping his shoulders, stared up at him with a pleading gaze that penetrated his heart. "Well, what do you say, West Point Gentleman?" she inquired through trembling lips. "Will you take me to Richmond to see Daniel? Will you?" she asked again, her expression shining with fierce longing.

  Chapter Nine

  Taggart watched Silky's eyes glisten with excitement as the single-gauge engine clickety-clacked over a switch crossing and chugged away from the Charlottesville railroad station. He couldn't help but chuckle, for her delight in the new experience reminded him of that of an excited child on Christmas morning.

  "I feel like I'm flying," she announced, her face shining as she settled back against the seat. "I've never gone this fast in all my life!"

  A Confederate corporal walked past them and nodded in greeting, then claimed a seat in the rear of the near-empty car along with a few other soldiers traveling to the Richmond area. Conversation now rippled among the men as they lit up pipes and, settling in for the long trip, began talking about their families.

  Taggart scanned Silky's bright face as she looked from the window. That bubbling innocence was her real strength, he suddenly realized. From such a childlike view of life sprang her amazing will and her admirable couragea courage that would provoke her into attempting a trip to Richmond, when a more sophisticated person would have declared it too difficult. He watched her staring back at the smudgy blotch that Charlottesville had now become, recalling the last twenty-four hours when he'd made the decision he was sure would affect them both for the rest of their lives.

  After much agonized thought he'd decided the opportunity Silky's trip presented was simply too great to overlook. By accompanying her, he could continue to assume the identity of a Confederate lieutenant, now claiming he was on extended leave to travel with Silky as she visited Daniel.

  Silky had suggested that since she might be in Richmond for months sh
e should sell her horse instead of stabling in it Charlottesville. She'd also boxed up her repeating rifle and mailed it back to Charlie, along with a letter explaining that due to Daniel's condition he'd need to take care of her place indefinitely. Taggart had sold his rifle, horse, and tack along with Silky's mount, given her the money she'd earned, and purchased tickets for them both with his funds. Knowing she needed simpler clothes for traveling, he'd bought her a blue gown, mantle, and bonnet, and also a huge carpetbag in which she'd packed her other belongings.

  With a pleased sigh, she now focused her attention on him and, adjusting the sashes of her bonnet, settled in for the trip. Despite her excitement, the concern he'd seen in her eyes at the depot this morning told him she was deeply worried about her brother. In one sense it seemed the wrong moment for a conversation, but at the same time, the soldiers were absorbed in their own talk, and there was a delicate subject he needed to broacha subject he knew she might be quite sensitive about.

  Silky regarded Taggart with a rush of affection, immensely thankful he'd agreed to her proposal. Lord, was all this really happening? she wondered, feeling as if she were in a dream. Could she, who had never ridden on a train, actually be on her way to Richmond? The vibration of the car and the click of the wheels under her feet answered her question. Although the musty-smelling car was poorly equipped, with torn seats and tacky little light fixtures, to her it was a magic carpet transporting her to see her brother.

  With a flicker of apprehension, she noticed Taggart looked at her as if he wanted to say something.

  "I thought I'd talk to you about our plans for Richmond," he ventured, moving a speculative gaze over her.

  "Good, I was wondering how we'd work things out when we got there," she answered. "How long will you be able to stay?"

  A cautious expression settled on his face. "I'm not sureprobably quite some time. While there, I'll be presenting myself as a lieutenant attached to a regiment in the western theater of operations. It's a story we both need to stick to."

  Silky nodded, willing to do anything to assist his secret work.

  "I think," he continued slowly, his eyes roaming over her, "that it would be best if we claimed to be cousins."

  "Cousins?" Silky echoed, feeling a prick of pain at his words. With all the tension in the air about Richmond, she had thought it best not to mention the subject of being hand-fastedthat little detail could wait until later. But she hadn't expected this and was somewhat disappointed that he expected her to disguise her relationship with him. He had a way of bending her to his will as he'd done since they first met, but what he was now proposing took some getting used to.

  "Yes, that way we can get adjoining rooms, and move about Richmond very openly without causing any notice." His eyes seemed to send her a silent message. "It would be best for us personallyand also for the Confederacy, I think," he added meaningfully.

  Silky's heart plummeted. She wanted the whole world to know she loved him in a distinctly uncousinly way; then, realizing how finicky most flatlanders were about marriage licenses and wedding rings, she gradually saw the wisdom of the plan. After all, he was only trying to protect her reputation and save her embarrassment when people asked questions about their relationship. Besides that, to protest a plan he'd devised not only to shield her, but to help him in his work, would at this point seem rather petty, she decided.

  She had no idea how long he would be able to stay with her in Richmond, but she wanted their time together to be pleasant and go smoothly. In truth, she loved him so deeply and outrageously and unconditionally, she simply couldn't deny him anything. If this was what he required, she thought, pushing her own emotions aside and recreating herself to conform to an image that would please him, she would comply.

  "All right, cousin," she softly agreed, suddenly realizing that love made people do things they ordinarily wouldn't do in a hundred years. She noticed a pleased look in his eyes, and now that she'd agreed to the proposal, she began to feel much better about it herself. The fact that they were kissing cousins who would be married after the war was something the flatlanders didn't need to know. In her heart she clung as tenaciously to the belief that he would offer her marriage someday as she did to life itself.

  They talked about Richmond and Daniel and several other subjects for a while; then, seeing him staring at the rolling landscape, she ventured, "Pretty country, isn't it?"

  "Some of the prettiest I've ever seen," he answered with a smile.

  "I hear there's lots of fine land out west."

  His face darkened, leaving her to wonder why. "Yes, land like this." He nodded at the window. "That's what I'd really like to do with my life." His gaze moved over her. "Own a fine tract of land. Something I could put my sweat and dreams into. Something I could pass along to my sons."

  Silky regarded him carefully. "I thought a fine West Point gentleman like you would want to own a factory or be a bank president when the war was over."

  He shook his head. "I'd rather feel damp earth between my fingers, or catch the scent of rain as a thunderstorm comes rolling in."

  This new side of Taggart surprised and pleased her, for she had been sure he wanted to live in a city. How much more did she need to learn about him? She knew which food he liked best, how he took his coffee, and dozens of other little things about him, but did she really know him, know the hidden things of his heart? Her mind flashed back to the picture of him squatting on the ground talking to Amos Evans.

  Then, silently chiding herself for still harboring doubts about him, she relaxed, suddenly understanding that beneath his air of danger and potent sexuality he had quite a poetic heart. He was like that, she thoughtlike the clouds scudding over the sky on a windy day. One moment they would be talking about something totally frivolous, and the next, they would be discussing something deep and profound. What an amazing man he was. Why, she was just beginning to realize she hardly knew him at all.

  "Yes, that would be a wonderful dream," she responded, feeling a warm glow about her heart. "That's a fine dream. The best I've ever heard."

  Three hours later Taggart reclaimed his seat, then bent forward to hand Silky a paper sack and bottle of lemonade. "I found a vendor and thought you might like something to eat," he said, sitting back to unwrap his own food.

  Silky slipped a sausage biscuit from her sack and, holding it over a newspaper in her lap, began to eat. They'd made many stops during the morning and now at noon they waited at a small depot between Gordonville and Yellow Tavern. General confusion reigned outside as a grizzled sergeant shouted orders at soldiers lining up to enter the train. So many soldiers, thought Silky. At every stop more Confederates, their grim faces pale with fatigue, stepped on the train until it was now packed with men.

  When she and Taggart had left Charlottesville that morning, everything had looked clean and untouched; then as the train emerged onto the Piedmont and started winding its way southeast to Richmond, rows and rows of slave cabins had caught her eye. In the summer they would be bright with honeysuckle and climbing jasmine, and the ground about them well swept, but now, at the beginning of winter, they looked bleak and depressing, with hungry-eyed children sitting near the doorsteps. And the host of charred chimneys from burned plantations left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Standing black against the sky, they reminded her of the flames of violence that had ravaged the gently rolling land.

  Everyone in Bear Wallow spoke of the Cause with great loyalty, but as she got her first look at the scarred land, reality crept through her like a deep illness, making her almost physically ill. And the soldiers. Lord, how weak and sick they all looked! The war was all so different than she'd thought, not fine and glorious as she'd expected. She felt her mind changing and growing, putting out fine little feelers as she desperately searched for an explanation that would explain the troubling things she'd seen today.

  Her appetite at low ebb, she put her half-eaten biscuit away, and stared from the window, noticing a fine carriage
pull up to the depot. Several high-ranking officers got out, the last one respectfully holding the door open for a handsome young man with a mustache and wavy brown hair. The gentleman sported a fine suit, a ruffled shirt, and a silk top hat. In his gloved hand he carried a soft leather portfolio. Taggart had already finished eating, and Silky caught his eye, then pointed out the man with a nod of her head. Evidently this was someone of importance, for the officers escorted him to the conductor, then doffed their hats as the young man entered the train.

  In the aisle, soldiers trudged past, being directed to the back of the car by the conductor at the door. When the fine gentleman stepped aboard, the conductor swept a searching gaze about and let it come to rest on Silky. Personally escorting the man down the aisle, he paused within arm's reach, then looked at Taggart. "I was wondering if Mr. Harrison might sit next to the young lady for several hours?" he asked with an embarrassed smile. "At the next stop, I think I can arrange the passengers so he can occupy the car behind the engine and have a whole seat for himself."

  Taggart rose and extended a hand of welcome to the distinguished gentleman. "Yes, of course. I'm Lieutenant Taggart"he glanced at Silky"and I'm escorting my cousin, Miss Shanahan, to Richmond."

  Harrison shook hands with Taggart, took off his top hat and placed it on the rack above his head, and sat down by Silky. He laid his portfolio, emblazoned with the gold initials B.H., on his lap, still holding a gloved hand upon it. "Thank you and the young lady for your kindness, sir," he offered in a cultured Southern voice.

  Taggart reclaimed his seat, interest flashing on his face as he glanced at the portfolio, then back at the young man. "I'm acquainted with your last name, sir. Are you perhaps Burton Harrison, Jefferson Davis's personal secretary?"

  The gentleman nodded. "Yes, his personal aide"he smiled gently"and on occasion his weary courier."

  Silky swallowed back her surprise. She knew by the way the officers were treating him that he was someone of importance, but the fact that he was Davis's secretary amazed and astonished her. She noticed that the man's eyes were red-veined, as if he were short of sleep, and utter fatigue lined his finely chiseled face. "Do you work with President Davis every day?" she whispered, so impressed she couldn't hold back the impulsive words.