Blood Moon (Ella Wood, 2)

by Michelle Isenhoff

  He noted Emily’s silence. “But I wouldn’t worry about it overly much, miss. General Beauregard has defenses locked up tight. And there are still ten thousand regular troops between here and the ocean.”

  “Ten thousand?” she asked weakly. So few?

  “And every one of them worth ten Yankees standing on our own ground. If the Union comes looking for trouble, they’re going to find it.”

  “And the army?” she asked, her thoughts rushing again to Jovie.

  He shrugged. “They’re patching themselves up after the thrashing we gave Hooker last week at Chancellorsville.”

  “You were there?” Six days the conflict had raged, continuing long after she had boarded the train and headed for home. How had anyone survived?

  “Yes, miss. My leave was postponed when the winds of battle began blowing. I just made it in last night. I’ve heard rumors that General Lee plans to take us north again, to catch Washington off guard. I can’t say it with any degree of certainty, but he’s not the type to stand around waiting for Hooker to make another move. If we got in a good, hard swipe at Washington, this war could be over.”

  “Yes,” she said distractedly. “Yes, let’s pray it’s so.”

  They had arrived at her house. Darius and Abigail appeared soon after, and Emily found herself seated beside Aunt Margaret in the dining room. Her aunt, no relation to the Malones, had nevertheless wrangled an invitation by supplying a vintage bottle of port, a large roasting goose, and the vase of hyacinths.

  “I just received a letter from Marie,” she told Emily as she passed a bowl of sautéed vegetables. “Your parents returned to Ella Wood after Governor Pickens’ term of office ended in December, you know. She said the governor’s a fine man personally, but his conduct during the formation of the Confederacy was rather high-handed, and his meddling in the war effort gained him plenty of enemies. Ultimately, he took the blame for the Charleston fire and received a vote of no confidence from the Assembly. And your father, as part of his administration, is sharing the governor’s fall from grace. Marie says he’s not handling it well at all.”

  Emily knew her parents had returned to their plantation, but Marie hadn’t shared any of the rest. “Is my mother okay?”

  “She seems fine. Just worried about William.”

  Emily didn’t much care what her father was suffering.

  The evening was over too quickly. Emily had a brief moment to say goodbye to the bride and groom before they whisked off for a night in the Mills House.

  “You’ll come visit me as soon as you can, won’t you?” Abigail asked. Her eyes fairly danced. “Darius has agreed to delay our wedding portrait until you can paint it. I’ll make sure he pays you enough so you won’t have to work in that horrid boardinghouse, should you ever decide to return to school.”

  Emily’s eyes lit up. “I’d be honored.”

  Abigail laughed and threw her arms around Emily. “We wanted to surprise you. Consider it a thank-you for making this such a special day.”

  Emily squeezed her tightly then shared a more sedate embrace with Abigail’s husband. “Thank you, Darius,” she whispered. “You definitely landed the better woman.”

  After the happy couple drove away, the Johnsons retired to their town house, and Aunt Margaret hobbled out to her carriage. “Would you like a ride home?” she called to her niece.

  Emily had slept in her own room for the past several nights, with Dr. Malone’s promise to accept full responsibility should her father find out, but now that Abigail was gone, she would return to her aunt’s house. “Thank you, but I think I’ll walk. It’s a beautiful night.”

  Paxton slapped the reins and the carriage wheeled away.

  Before she left, Emily sought out Dr. Malone. She found him in his office reclining with a glass of Aunt Margaret’s port and knocked lightly on the door. “May I talk to you a moment?”

  “Certainly, my girl. Come in.”

  She dropped into the chair opposite and slouched against the backrest.

  He chuckled. “Tired?”

  She blew out a breath. “It’s been a long couple weeks.”

  “Abigail was ecstatic when she received your letter. I don’t believe she could have had a more perfect day.”

  “I’m glad I arrived in time. She’s not experiencing any more melancholia?”

  “No, no. Mr. Johnson’s affections have proven the perfect cure.’

  She smiled. “I thought as much.”

  He took another sip from his glass. “I must admit, I was surprised to see you. I thought you’d be looking for work up north somewhere.”

  “I was tempted.”

  “Ah, but you’ve never been one to miss the action, have you?” He grimaced. “I’m afraid you may catch more than you bargained for.”

  “Has it been bad?” She noted his rounded shoulders and heavily lined face. “Please, tell me the truth.”

  “Actually, it’s been quiet. Just minor skirmishes on the islands and Union raids upriver. They’ve taken to using black regiments to burn and loot the plantations. As you can imagine, the destruction at the hands of armed Negroes has dealt a devastating blow to local morale.”

  “Not up the Ashley?” she demanded.

  “No, it’s still blockaded. Ella Wood is safe. And the raids have had no effect on Charleston’s defenders. Even so, yesterday we received a hospital full of Chancellorsville casualties. There were more than ten thousand wounded, I’ve been told, not including dead and missing.”

  Emily pressed a hand over her mouth and nose.

  Dr. Malone sipped again, his eyes meeting hers over the top of his glass. “Lee’s brilliant victory has cost us far more men than we can afford to lose, I’m afraid.”

  The hospital would be brimming. “I’ll go with you in the morning.”

  “That would be greatly appreciated. We never seem to get to the end of the wounded,” he said wearily. “How’s it going at that school of yours? Any regrets?”

  “None whatsoever. I’ve actually come to talk to you about something school related.”

  “You know I’ll help in any way I can,” he prompted when she hesitated.

  “It’s a rather delicate request. Too delicate for the Maryland Institute, I’m afraid. You see, I really need an understanding of the human frame if I want my portraits to appear natural. Bones and musculature and such. But anatomy is only offered to men.”

  Understanding and a hint of amusement twinkled in his eyes. “So you intend to teach yourself,” he guessed, “and would like to borrow one of my anatomy books.”

  “Yes, sir. Exactly.”

  “And if I refuse,” he added with a chuckle, “you’re likely to go down to the morgue or houses of ill repute until you can find real specimens to study.”

  Emily cracked a half-smile. “The thought had occurred to me, sir. This way seemed easier.”

  He laughed and stood up to search through his bookshelf. Selecting a thick volume, he handed it to her. “I do understand the Institute’s hesitation. However, after your work in the hospital, I don’t think you’ll find any surprises in here.”

  Emily thumbed through the volume. “This appears exactly what I need.” She rose. “Thank you, sir. I’ll take good care of it.”

  After saying goodbye to the Malones, Emily stepped out beneath a sky still silver with twilight. Every silhouette held a fuzzy edge. She walked lazily, paying little attention to her surroundings, her thoughts on Abigail’s new adventure. She passed only one yard before an iron grip cinched her upper arm and whirled her around.

  She gasped, then fear soared into amazement. “Jovie!” Her relief was so sudden and so sharp that she could only voice his name before her throat pinched closed. She wanted to fling herself into his arms, but something in his face held her back. Instead, she swallowed hard. “What are you doing here? You frightened me half to death.”

  “I spent the week with my parents.” His expression was flat; his tone carried no warmth. “Sophia told
me you’d be here.”

  Her forehead creased. He looked whole. She didn’t realize how very much she had longed for this moment until the sight of him standing before her so unexpectedly filled her clean through with joy. But something was definitely wrong. Her elation faded. “And how is she? I’m eager to see the baby.”

  Instead of answering, he held up a fistful of letters. Her letters, she realized as she spotted an address written in her own neat hand. The seals appeared to be intact. “Jovie, I don’t understand…”

  “Why are you writing to me?”

  Her mouth dropped open in bewilderment. “You came all the way from Fairview to ask me that?”

  “I told you not to,” he said harshly, swiping a hand through his hair and pacing in agitation on the walkway.

  “I—I thought—”

  “As if things aren’t dire enough, now you’re sending me weekly reminders of your life with—” He finished his thought with an oath.

  “With Thad? Is that what this is about? Jovie, I broke things off with Thad last November.”

  But the admission did nothing to appease his anger. “So that makes me your bandage? Your splint?” he asked cruelly. “Emily, I have no interest in mopping up your mistakes.”

  Hurt and confusion fractured her voice. “Jovie, I had no intention of using you in such a way. I just wanted to reestablish our friendship. After Jack passed, I thought—”

  But he wasn’t interested in explanations. A storm of frustration broke over his face. “I will not torture myself for the rest of my life, Emily. I will have all of you or none of you. And since you’ve already made your feelings quite clear, I’d prefer that you keep your letters to yourself.” He flung them at her feet.

  Emily watched him leave in stunned disbelief. His words cut her to the soul. She thought they had parted from Winchester on amiable terms. She thought he’d welcome a renewal of the comradery they had always shared. How had she misunderstood him so blatantly?

  She sank to the ground and bleakly gathered the unopened envelopes.

  28

  Emily slipped quietly back into her old life—an uninterrupted stream of hospital work broken only by quick snatches of food and rest—but at least her exhaustion had a sense of purpose. June saw peace descend over the harbor, and the hospital received no new casualties. Most importantly, she was near to those she loved. Only one thing disturbed her tranquility.

  Jovie Cutler.

  Her thoughts had fixated on him ever since he’d returned her letters so vehemently. She’d been startled by the wave of exhilaration that had flooded her at his appearance and equally stunned by the despair that gripped her when he walked away. Now he haunted her constantly. And his last three unopened letters mocked her every time she opened her bureau drawer. They were like a poisoned confection. She could hardly hold herself back from devouring their contents, but the desire to answer would be too strong. And he had laid down his conditions in no uncertain terms. How could she possibly meet them?

  She left the letters sealed.

  “When will you be traveling to the Johnson estate to visit Abigail?” Trudy had wheeled Aunt Margaret into the courtyard where Emily had just finished washing her hair after soaking it in kerosene to rid it of lice. The treatment was one with which she had become all too familiar during her tenure in the hospital.

  Her brow furrowed as she wrung excess water from the tresses. “I don’t know. Darius joined the Charleston Battalion. I can’t paint their portrait if he’s not at home.”

  Aunt Margaret clucked her tongue. “How’s she faring, poor girl? A brand-new bride.”

  “I haven’t heard from her. Dr. Malone told me.”

  The woman dabbed at the perspiration on the back of her neck with a lace handkerchief. “Are you going to work at that boardinghouse again this summer?”

  “The hospital is keeping me far too busy.”

  “Then will you swallow your confounded pride and let me pay for your next year of schooling?”

  Emily sighed. “Aunt Margaret, with the armies actively engaged, how and when do you think I’m going to get back to Maryland? I told you, I was lucky to make it through the lines once.”

  “Then why did you come back, you foolish girl?” Aunt Margaret burst out with sudden rancor. “You should have stayed in the North where you were safe and doing what you love.”

  “Because I was worried about all of you. How was I supposed to rest easy knowing my friends and family were facing renewed hostilities in the harbor?”

  “Foolish, foolish girl.” Her aunt shook her head in frustration. “You can’t protect us. Your presence here won’t change anything.”

  “Why are you still here?” Emily challenged, shifting the questions away from herself. “You said you were going to England. Why aren’t you at your daughter’s?”

  Aunt Margaret’s eyes flashed with impatience. “Look at me, child. Take a long, hard look, and stop fooling yourself. If I can get out of bed at all, it’s to sit in this chair all day. I will not be going anywhere ever again. So I’ve decided no Yankee is going to push me from my home.”

  “Then I am certainly where I belong,” Emily answered firmly. And as she said it, she knew with perfect clarity that giving up the photography position had been the right thing to do, no matter how painful. “Have you heard from your daughter lately? It must be a challenge getting letters through the blockade.”

  “I haven’t received news for six months. Adella’s last letter did mention that she gave birth to her fifth child in autumn. A little girl this time. Genevieve Margaret. I should have liked to meet her. She’ll be nearly a year old already.”

  “And how old are her boys?”

  “Let me see, Johnny would be three, Timothy six, Thomas eight, and Peter eleven.”

  “Goodness!” Emily exclaimed with a laugh. “I believe a visit to Devonshire would have been less peaceful than Charleston!”

  “They’re dear boys,” Aunt Margaret said, a bit forlornly.

  Trudy returned and interrupted them. “Miss Preston, Mrs. Buchanan is here to see you. Shall I bring her back?”

  Emily hadn’t the least inclination to spend her free afternoon with Sophia, but she could hardly turn her old friend away. “Yes, that would be fine, Trudy. Thank you.”

  “Oh, merciful heavens,” Aunt Margaret mumbled. “I can’t abide that child. Quick, help me into the house.”

  “Aunt Margaret!” Emily scolded.

  “What? Sophia Buchanan is the most beastly, self-absorbed young woman in Charleston. And she has some stiff competition.”

  Emily suppressed a giggle. “If I have to stay, you have to stay.”

  She had barely composed herself before Sophia waltzed in wearing a lovely mauve day dress and a straw hat with blue and purple feathers. The only sign that the blockade had affected her at all was a slight dinginess to her gloves. “Hello, Mrs. Thornton,” she greeted, kissing the old woman perfunctorily on the cheek.

  Aunt Margaret grimaced.

  “I heard you were back,” Sophia said, turning to Emily. “Slaving among our honorable wounded. Honestly, I don’t know how you abide the filth.”

  Emily’s smile was stiff around the edges. “It’s good to see you, Sophia. How do you still manage to look so fashionable when half the city can’t even afford to eat properly?”

  “This old thing?” Sophia pouted, removing her gloves and seating herself in a wicker garden chair. “I’ve had it for ages. Matthew won’t let me purchase anything new, the big ogre.”

  “He hasn’t been able to ship out a crop for two years,” Emily pointed out. “Is he well? He hasn’t joined the service, has he?”

  “He certainly tried. He raised a regiment himself in Dorchester County last year, but the military wouldn’t give him a command. They said his eyesight is too poor.”

  “They’ll be calling for him soon enough, I expect,” Aunt Margaret put in ominously.

  “How’s Jovie?” Emily asked.

  “
He’s fine, I’m sure.”

  “You’ve heard from him recently?” Emily struggled to keep the fervency out of her voice.

  “Yes, yes. Last week,” Sophia said impatiently, setting her gloves on the garden table and leaning forward in her seat. “I’m not here to discuss my husband or my brother. I want to make sure you’re aware of the benefit for the Charleston Brigade at Governor Aiken’s house this Saturday.” She grew animated. “It’s to be the party of the summer. All the officers will be in attendance, and I insist that you come with me. That is, if you can pull yourself away from the hospital for an entire evening.”

  Emily avoided answering. “How did you know I was home today?”

  “I’ve called here twice this week. Didn’t your aunt tell you?”

  “I’m sure she did. I’ve been rather distracted.”

  “She didn’t know when your next day off would be, so I called at the hospital to find out.”

  “You badgered the staff for my schedule?” Emily asked sharply. “Sophia, they have far more important things to do than cater to your social calendar.”

  “How else was I going to find out? I only have three more days in the city if I’m to return to Maple Ridge before Matthew.”

  “He doesn’t know you’re here.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “He forbade me from coming. He told me it’s not safe.” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Then he hopped right on a train headed to God-knows-where. I’m not staying on that dreadful plantation without him. And I’m certainly not going to confine myself at home if he is free to travel.”

  “Your husband is right. The Union navy could come back at any time. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. We’re in the safest place on earth, barring Richmond. There is absolutely no way the Yankees can breach Charleston’s defenses.”

  “Sophia, where is your baby?”

  “At the hotel with his nurse.”

  “I would have liked to have seen him.”

  “Oh, he’s a horrible child.” Sophia pressed her fingers to her temples. “Simply dreadful. I can’t abide his temper.”