Covering her mouth with a handkerchief against the suffocating smoke, she raced toward the prison. From the next street she heard roaring flames and the crack of timbers as a roof collapsed and crashed into the building it had once sheltered. Then through the curling smoke, she spied men running toward hermen clad in tattered blue uniforms. Yankee prisoners. Somehow they'd got free, but how was that possible? Had General Grant already entered Richmond?
Within earshot, one man whooped and raised his cap in the air. "They've left the prison. Richmond is ours!"
Silky realized the frightened Confederate guards must have abandoned their posts as Fouche had, and the prisoners had managed to escape. Surrounding fires cast light on the building, and she could see the Yankees through the open third-story windows as they scrambled toward the stairs that would lead them to freedom. She wondered if the soldiers had released Taggart from his security cell or, in their hysteria, forgotten him. Perhaps they didn't even know he was there. In her darkest hour she'd thought there was nothing she could do to save him, and she now realized she might be the only one who could.
The heat of the flames warm on her back, she rushed toward Libby as soldiers streamed past her. She noticed a small door standing open, and, once inside the prison, she frantically hurried through the first-floor corridors, searching for the security cell. As she threaded her way through the maze, she heard explosions from outside and knew the Confederates were blowing up arsenals to deny them to the Yankees. There was a roar and a great crash as another wooden building fell. Without a doubt, the prison roof would soon fall, too.
She moved ahead, half blinded by the smoke, then heard running feet, and through the shadowy haze saw two prisoners, their eyes wide with fear. Her stomach fluttering with emotion, she rushed to the first, but he shoved past her in his haste to escape. Gasping for breath, she clutched the other soldier's arm. ''Where's the security cell?" she cried, going into a coughing fit. "Tell me where it is!"
The Yankee grabbed her shoulders and wheeled her about. "You must have come in the side exit," he wheezed, tears streaming down his grimy face. "Go to the end of the corridor"he pointed, giving her a little shove"then turn right." Then he sprinted away, disappearing the way she'd just come.
Silky followed the soldier's directions, moving through thick smoke. She knew she was reaching her destination, and at last spied a windowed door and saw a pair of man's hands clutching the bars, and behind them a soot-streaked face. Taggart! she thought, racing toward the end of the corridor.
"Here, Silky, unlock the cell!" he shouted between coughs, slamming his shoulder against the door as he tried to break it down.
Desperately she tried to twist the knob, but it wouldn't move. "I've come to get you out of here before the prison burns down, you Yankee buzzard!" she informed him over the din outside the building.
"The keys are in the main office," he shouted with flashing eyes. "Turn aroundyou just passed it. Hurry, the Rebs will be blowing up the powder magazine any time now!"
Silky stumbled back down the corridor, trailing her hand along the wall until she found the office. Once inside, she swung her gaze about the smoke-filled room, then opened desk drawers, picking up papers with both hands and wildly dumping them on the floor. When she did not find the keys there, she trembled with sheer panic. Now absolutely frantic, she surveyed the office again, and finally spotted a fancy uniform jacket hanging on a peg.
She flew to the jacket, and with trembling hands slid her fingers into first one pocket, then the other, at last touching metal. Sobbing with relief, she pulled out a ring of jangling keys, careened from the office, and ran for the security cell. There, she jammed one key into the lock, then another, afraid none of them would fit.
From his place behind the bars, Taggart watched Silky fumble with the keys. Lord Almighty, what she must have come through to get to the prison. Soot speckled her finely molded face, and her bodice was drenched with perspiration. Her lovely auburn hair was tangled and hung in damp strands over her tired eyes. At last a key turned in the lock, and when the door swung open he clasped an arm about her, running for the main entrance.
Once they were free of the building, Taggart paused and clutched Silky in his arms, nothing else in the world mattering to him. How he regretted that he'd never told her that he loved her, loved her more than the moon and stars, loved her more than life itself. What a woman she wasthis hardheaded little Reb! As he looked into her teary green eyes, he knew that although Fouche might have slyly wheedled the information about Petersburg from her, she hadn't purposely betrayed him. Lord, she'd come through the fires of hell to free him, and that act had to be prompted by a heart brimming with sheer love.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed, her face tight with anguish. "I told Fouche about Petersburg, but I didn't mean to. Will you forgive me? I"
"Yes, I knowhush now," he said in a soothing voice, brushing back her long hair, which glinted like copper in the orange light. "It's forgotten already."
He enfolded her more tightly in his arms, memorizing the feel of her warm body and sweet curves beneath his hands. "Don't you ever take off again, you little minx!" he rasped just before his mouth moved over hers for a long, breathless moment.
When he withdrew, her eyes sparkled up through her tears like diamonds. "Don't worry, you'll never get rid of me now."
He held her against his chest, and over the top of her head saw the surrounding warehouses go up in flames. All about them was shouting and confusion as the last of the soldiers escaped from the prison. "Come on, we've got to get out of here," he cried, sliding an arm about her as he decided what might be the best route for their escape.
Silky huddled against Taggart's side; then, looking about, her heart jolted, for she saw Fouche gallop up across the street and yank his skittish mount to a halt. Lord above, she thought with a rush of panic; somehow he'd managed to commandeer a horse! A crude bandage circled his head, and his fine jacket was torn and dirty. Even at this distance his eyes glinted with a hot, crazed look, and she realized that his fierce jealousy and lust for revenge had brought him here. As he dismounted, the wind whipped back his jacket, and she spied a pistol glinting at his side.
Evidently Taggart saw the same thing, for, clasping his arm about her, he started running. Seconds later a stupendous explosion shook the earth, knocking them to the ground. Light blazed up, followed by a gigantic mushroom of smoke. Taggart covered her body with his, and as debris pelted down like rain, she realized the Confederates had set off the huge powder magazine housed in the city arsenal. All about them buildings trembled as if an earthquake had taken place, and windows shattered from their casings and crashed to the street.
Once vibrations from the blast had passed and they'd regained their breath, Taggart rose and helped Silky to her feet. Quickly she glanced across the street and saw Fouche's mount cantering about wildlythen, putting a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob, she noticed a building had collapsed, its heavy rubble covering the place where the officer had stood.
Feeling a warm hand on her shoulder, she turned and fell against Taggart's broad chest. "Lord, how terrible," she breathed, clutching her arms about him and thinking no one should have to experience such a death. "That could have been us," she added hoarsely, shivers skittering down her spine.
Taggart's fingers pressed into her back. "Don't think about that now," he ordered, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. "It wasn't, and we're safe." He ran his fingers over her arms and hands and scanned her face for cuts. "Are you in one piece? Are you all right?"
She tossed her tangled hair back. "Yes ... I'm fine," she whispered weakly.
Taggart studied her pale face, knowing she couldn't go on much longer. Lord, what if they'd been killed instead of Fouche? he thought, squeezing her soft body against him in a protective gesture. Now that they'd been reunited he never wanted to let her go. Not when he had so much to make up for.
A large section of Libby's fiery roof crashed into the prison wi
th a terrible splintering sound, and toward the center of town another arsenal exploded. After the initial blast, loose cartridges ignited with an earsplitting rattle, their noise mingling with the roar of the fire.
Her face smudged with soot, Silky gazed up at him with quivering eyelids, then sagged against him, her body limp and heavy. "They're going to blow up all of Richmond," she muttered against his shoulder, her voice raw with fatigue. "Where can we go to be safe?"
He put a protective arm about her and led her away from the area of destruction. "I know a place," he answered as they paused at the corner of Cary Street to stare back at the smoldering debris scattered about the prison.
He smoothed back a lock of shining auburn hair, then looked into her eyes that were glassy with fear and exhaustion. "Don't worry, my darling, I know a place."
Caroline Willmott rose from the breakfast table and placed her napkin aside, "Please excuse me now. I must see how Moses is coming along with his work." She moved to the door, her skirt swinging, then glanced back over her shoulder gracefully. "He's raising Old Glory from the top of the mansion," she announced with pride. "I believe it will be the first flag hoisted today."
Silky regarded the lovely lady, honored that she knew her, and glad that she lived here on Church Hill, far from the devastation around Capitol Square and the Libby Prison area.
Taggart pushed back his chair as a rakish grin settled on his lips. "While you're at it," he advised, "don't forget to make a fresh pot of coffee."
Caroline's eyes glistened like the sun in water. "Yes ... don't worry, Major," she replied, a hint of laughter in her voice. "I'd never forget General Grant's coffee."
After she'd left Taggart stood and, wrapping his big hand about Silky's, helped her to her feet. "Let's watch the sun rise," he suggested with an underlying tone of tenderness that made her heart turn over in her breast. "I think we have some unfinished business."
"All right," she responded softly, feeling much better after a little rest and a nourishing breakfast. She'd already given him the news about Delcie and her brother, but they had so much more to talk about, she thought, her pulse racing a little faster.
Clad in a tattered white shirt and snug-fitting breeches, Taggart slipped his arm about her waist as they walked to a bay window that overlooked Richmond. It seemed they'd been separated forever, and when he drew her to him, pressing her bosom against his hard chest and folding her in his arms, all the wonderful feelings he'd ever stirred came blazing back stronger than ever.
Her head resting against his shoulder, they looked at the city. Below Church Hill half of Richmond lay in smoldering ruins against a rosy dawn sky streaked with scarlet. Occasionally a small arsenal exploded, billowing up a white cloud, and in the smoky shadows glimmers of fire could still be seen. But on the whole, the masses of vehicles and people had abandoned the streets, leaving an eerie pall over the capital of the Confederacy.
"What a waste," Taggart muttered softly. "What a terrible waste this insanity was."
Silky turned, engulfed in warmth as his hands glided over her back, molding her to his body. She looked into his eyes, feeling a little quiver of excitement. "Yes, nothing will ever be the same again. Everything has changed, but change always brings a chance for a fresh start."
"Silky," he began slowly, "I took advantage of you, and I know I've hurt you more than words can say." The rising sun tinged his rugged features with golden light. "But I hope to God that you can forgive me for being the biggest fool who ever lived, because I don't think I can live without you."
She placed a finger over his firm lips. "You don't have to say anything," she breathed, a soft tenderness blossoming within her. "I learned something on that long road from the Blue Ridge to Charlottesville to Richmond. I learned that the best war is the one that's never fought."
She threaded her fingers through his tousled hair. "And I learned that love doesn't hold any loyalties." She trembled, and he placed a kiss on her forehead. "But most of all, I learned you're more important than any cause."
A tear slid over her cheek, but he flicked it away. She nestled against him and in a stronger voice added, "I was holding on to an old worn-out dream with all my might. Holding on to it so hard I couldn't let go to latch onto something more important." She clasped her hands over his broad shoulders. "I've been thinking it over, and I finally decided the war was about a lot of things, but it wasn't about us."
With a feeling of gratitude, Taggart sloughed off the tension he'd been carrying for weeks. They'd passed through treacherous waters, but somehow they'd survived, he thought, pulling in a deep breath of relief. Thank God she understood how he'd felt since he'd first met her. While in Libby, he'd mentally composed one speech after the other, trying to explain his feelings. But it seemed that in her innocent wisdom, she'd already known what was in his heart.
"That's right," he murmured, sliding his hand up her neck to cradle the back of her head. "Where my mission was concerned, my allegiance was to the United States, but what I felt for you had nothing to do with the war."
Her gaze fell for a moment; then she looked up again. "It took a long time, but I understand that now," she replied softly.
"Lord Almighty, how I love you," he vowed, speaking the words he had wanted to tell her every day he was in prison.
Silky's breath caught in her throat. He said it, she thought, scarcely believing she'd heard the confession from his mouth. He'd actually said he loved hernot that he needed herbut that he loved her. How warm and witty and full of honor he was. What a good man he was! she decided in a moment of perfect, intense happiness.
Cupping her face, he murmured, "I loved you all along, but wouldn't let myself believe it because I didn't think we
could work out our differences." His gorgeous eyes mellowed with tenderness. "Lord, how glad I am this war is over."
Taggart bent his dark head and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, and her neck, where a pulse was beating wildly; then his mouth was on hers. As his moist lips played over hers, she felt banked fires smolder and burst into flame inside of her. And that old languorous feeling began stealing through her once again, leaving her yearning for the fiery sensations only he could provide.
Gradually the sound of clattering homes and martial music came to Silky's ears, and Taggart loosened his embrace as they gazed at the colorful spectacle before them.
The United States Ninth Corps, a glittering stream of blue and gold, was passing down the street as the first of the Union forces wound their way into the beleaguered city. At their point, in front of the colonel, and the adjutant, and the bugler, and the three hundred men, and two hundred horses, and sixteen caissons, and the gleaming regimental band, rode a lone color guard on a prancing black stallion. From the standard the young soldier proudly held aloft, a banner rippled in the morning breezenot the Stars and Bars, not a Union battle standard, but a spanking-new American flag.
The sight of the fresh-faced Union soldier pricked Silky's heart and reminded her of Taggart's brother. Tears gathered on her lashes, but she blinked them away. "I understand how you feel about your brother," she said, painfully recalling all the young men that had been killed in the war, "and I'm truly sorry about his death."
Taggart tilted her face to his. "Somehow I've managed to let that go, thank God." He sighed deeply, stroking his thumb along her jawline. "I've finally understood it takes a wise man to see whether he's fighting for a principle or simply indulging his anger. Ned's death will always be a great tragedy, but I can live with it now."
"Well," she whispered, swallowing back her emotions and managing a little smile, "it seems there's just one thing left for us to decide."
"What's that?" he asked, fluttering a kiss over her lips.
She glanced at him through her wet lashes. "Are you
going to surrender to me, or should I surrender to you?" she asked playfully. "The North may have taken Richmond, but our association is a different thing altogether. Personally I think you should surrender to
meyou know, give me your sword and all. Being a high-ranking Union officer with yellow striped pants, I'm sure you have one."
Taggart laughed heartily, relishing her irrepressible spirit. He might have striven for happiness in the past, but at last he'd found the joy he'd been searching for all his life in this feisty bundle of mountain mischief. And the very thought that he was planning on spending every candlelight with her for the rest of his life filled him with heart-quickening joy. "Very well. I surrenderunconditionally," he offered, his lips lingering on each of her slender fingers and finally her soft palm.
After a moment of hesitation, he considered her tender face. "There's something I need to tell yousomething important," he said, faltering a little over the words as sun struck fiery lights in her hair. "While we've been apart," he added, feathering his fingertips over her cheek as he spoke, "I received word that my father has passed away. His death changes circumstances completely for me."
Silky regarded his tense face and trembled. How much she'd wanted him to have a chance to straighten out affairs with his father. She remembered the warm feeling she carried for her ownbut unfortunately this was not to be and there was nothing she could do to change the matter. "I'm sorry," she uttered in a whispery sigh, smoothing her hands over his corded arms in a comforting gesture, "sorry that you two could never be friends."
Silently he gazed down at her, his appreciative eyes expressing what his lips could not say.
"What will you do now?" she whispered, knowing his answer would alter her life forever.
She could tell he was mastering his emotions, and after a moment he straightened his back and added, "I have it in my mind to resign from the army."
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