What if he is searching for us now? The thought made shivers chase each other up and down her back. The sight of his snarling face made her stomach clench—and her headache worsen.
While she needed to be sleeping herself, she couldn’t do that with the baby crying and coughing.
“Jesse, hold me.” Thaddeus held up his arms. She wiped his runny nose with a square of cotton she used for a handkerchief and, picking him up, let him wrap his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. He clung like a baby possum to its mother’s back. She kissed his forehead and, sure enough, he felt warm too. Two sick children, muddy roads, and patrols going past not a quarter mile away. How were they to manage?
Now her headache felt like the drum of galloping horses’ hooves on a wooden bridge. An entire platoon.
“He won’t take no milk.” Ophelia carried the baby on her hip, jiggling him gently but without much success. He cried anyway.
“Here, you take Thaddeus.” Jesselynn tried to pull the limpet off her neck, but then he stopped whimpering and fell to out-and-out crying.
“Want you, not ’Phelia,” he stammered between sobs.
“But the baby needs me.” She tried prying again with no success.
“No-o-o-o.” He scrubbed his runny nose against her neck.
“Hey, how ’bout we think of a name for the baby?”
“No. Don’ like baby.” He clung so tightly, he almost cut off her air.
“Thaddeus Joshua Highwood, you stop that this instant.” She bounced him with a sharp jerk to get his attention.
“No!” He cried harder, stiffening his body and banging his head against her collarbone.
Wonderful. Now he was working his way up to a full-sized High-wood tantrum. She recognized it well, having thrown a few herself. One time Lucinda had dunked her in cold water. Trying to breathe around the shock made a screaming tantrum pretty near impossible, when she got her breath back, that was. She’d never thrown one again.
She hoped something like that wouldn’t be necessary with Thaddeus.
But when he began shrieking and nearly threw himself out of her arms, she started looking for a bucket of water. When none was in sight, she thunked him down on the wagon bed. “Now you just stay there until you can behave. I will not hold a boy who kicks and hits me.”
He rolled from side to side, arms thrashing.
Meshach came running from the woods. “What wrong?”
Jesselynn shook her head, disgust narrowing her eyes. “My little brother is throwing a tantrum, that’s what. All because he is jealous of our new baby.”
The poor baby was also screaming at this point, but stopping to cough brought his cries to a standstill. He coughed until he threw up what little milk Ophelia had gotten down him and then coughed some more. It sounded like he was coughing his lungs right out.
“You stay with him,” she said to Meshach, pointing to Thaddy, then ran around the wagon to help Ophelia with the other one. She dunked a cloth in warm water and washed the baby’s face and his nappy hair. His cries subsided, his eyes drifting closed and a hiccup jerking his entire body. While they had put one of Thaddy’s shirts on him, she could still count every bone in his neck. His fingers looked more like claws than baby hands and his bowed legs didn’t have the strength to hold him up yet.
Jesselynn thought back to the fat black babies tumbling around the little house where the babies stayed while their mothers worked in the fields. Twin Oaks had few women working alongside the men in the tobacco and hayfields, having them instead work the acre-sized garden and the orchards, and do the household tasks like spinning and weaving. Providing food and clothing for all the folks on the plantation took many hands and many hours. It seemed they never had enough of either.
She and Ophelia nursed the children through the afternoon and evening, but as the stars poked holes in the heavens, Meshach came to stand beside her. “We best be pullin’ out.”
“I know, but dare we travel with this one so sick?”
“Got to get away from sojers.”
“I know.” They’d heard another patrol just before dusk. “All right. You want to drive or ride?” Asking his preference was a real act of grace on her part. All she wanted to do was mount up on Ahab and ride free, gallop through the night far enough ahead so she couldn’t hear children crying and coughing. If only she had some of Lucinda’s elderberry wine or a hot toddy for the black baby. Her mother mixed honey, lemon, and whisky for sore throats and coughs. Surely there was something in the simples bag to help, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember. Why, oh, why hadn’t she brought her mother’s housekeeping journal along? It held all the recipes.
“I drive. ’Phelia can take care of both boys in de back of de wagon. They go to sleep and wake up better in de mornin’.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I bin prayin’ for dem.”
Meshach’s simple faith smacked her in the face. She had not thought to pray lately, other than a frantic “Oh, God” a few times. And how long since they’d read the Scriptures? She’d seen him reading in the early morning. Why hadn’t she?
She squinted her eyes, staring at the fire until the flames seemed to fill her mind. Because I’m no longer sure that God is listening. She plundered her mind some more. Or cares.
“I’ll saddle Ahab, then.” Relief flooded her mind. She could get away. “And I hope your God is listenin’.”
“He yo’ God too, Marse Jesse, and He won’t let you forget it.”
“Yes, well …” She turned to Ophelia. “Let’s fill that jug with hot water and wrap it in one of the quilts so you can use it as you need it.” She tucked a quilt around Thaddeus, who had finally fallen asleep. When she felt his forehead, he didn’t seem any cooler. So much for God making them better. Maybe if I can find some willow bark by a stream that would help.
Within minutes they were on the road, heading toward the evening star again. After the deluge the nights before, the air still smelled fresh and clean. A hint of woodsmoke, the tang of a long-departed skunk, ammonia of fresh horse droppings, the smells of forest and fall melded into a rich soup of aromas.
A rising half-moon cleared the treetops and sent their shadows leading them onward.
In spite of herself, Jesselynn dropped back to see how the babies were doing. Ophelia was rocking the black baby, and Thaddeus coughed in his sleep beside her.
“He burnin’ up wid fever.”
“Unwrap him from the quilt.”
“Him get cold.” But she did as Jesselynn ordered and loosened the covering. As the cool air touched his skin, the baby set up a howl.
“Here, hand him up here. Maybe the rocking of the horse will settle him down.”
“With Ahab?” Meshach joined the conversation.
“Oh, you’re right.” Jesselynn felt like plugging her ears and riding hard—away. If she’d used her head earlier, they could have harnessed Ahab and she could have ridden the mare. “Up ahead, if he doesn’t calm down, we’ll switch the team around.”
“Should do that anyways. De mud makes for heavy pullin’.”
At least we’re not hub-deep in it. That alone was something to be grateful for.
The moon floated high above them, silvering the trees and whitening the road. Jesselynn let herself slump in the saddle, riding far enough ahead so the fitful cries of their sick ones sounded more like bird twitterings.
“Halt! Who goes there!”
Her heart hit triple time before she could suck in a breath.
Chapter Fourteen
Richmond, Virginia
“I’m comin’!” Louisa picked up her skirts and dashed back inside.
“No need to fret yourself.” The old black man shook his grizzled head. “I gets de water.”
“Sorry, no …” Louisa checked her rush up the stairs.
“You go on.” He chuckled this time, still shaking his head. “Young ladies don’ go runnin’ like dat. Just not proper.” But he made shooi
ng motions with his hands, sending her on up the second set of stairs.
Louisa didn’t need another invitation. She could hear laughter from her floor, laughter like she hadn’t heard since she started volunteering over a month ago. Whatever could be so hilarious?
But when she burst through the arched doorway, silence fell with laughter choked off so quick it sent one patient into a fit of coughing. A snicker came from the region of the unknown soldier.
What in heaven’s name is going on? She glanced over to the window where the lieutenant stood looking out as if he’d never ordered her to come back in with such urgency. Several others refused to look her in the eye, feigning sleep instead.
The low drone of Corporal Shaddock reading to the comatose man picked up again.
“All right, children, fess up. There’s something going on here.”
A snicker from the corner. She whirled to see who it was, but no one looked guilty even.
A moan came from a new man just returned from surgery. Lopping off limbs seemed the answer to most injuries, but a quick glance at two beds down on her right showed all four appendages in place.
“No more cookies until someone tells me what is goin’ on.”
Still no response other than a groan, this one forced enough to tell her it wasn’t due to pain.
What could have happened? She hadn’t been gone more than fifteen minutes, if that. Who could she intimidate the most?
Stopping at Corporal Shaddock’s side, she cleared her throat. He stopped reading and sent a quick look her way, then glanced at the man whom she’d been calling the unknown soldier.
Shivers chased up and down her spine. The doc had changed the dressings, so one eye now showed. The dark brow above it arched in an oh-so-familiar way. The man was definitely conscious.
Her heart felt as though it had stopped. The whole world stopped only for an instant. She took four steps forward and sank to her knees, grasping the hand that lay on top of the sheet.
“Zachary?”
“None other.” The hand squeezed hers back, weak but no weaker than the voice.
He’s alive, my brother is alive. Oh, God, thank you, my brother is alive.
“At least what’s left of me.” The tinge of bitterness that underlay his words sounded so familiar that she laid her cheek on the back of his hand.
“But you’re alive. That’s all that matters. You’re alive.” My brother who we feared was dead is alive.
Hand clapping from those able and a cheer from others brought her back to the current place and time.
“How … how long have I been unconscious?”
“A week or so. You were muttering when they brought you in, but then we heard nothing more from you.” She swiped away the tears that refused to stop. “We’ve been praying for you so long, never knowing if you were in prison, alive, or dead.” She shuddered on the last words. I can’t tell him about Daddy yet. And Jesselynn. Or how they are at home.
“Where … where am I?” He cleared his throat.
“Richmond. I’m visitin’ Aunt Sylvania. Carrie Mae too.”
“Why?”
“Jesselynn made us come here.” She knew that wasn’t altogether true. Carrie Mae had pleaded to go when the invitation arrived. And since Jesselynn wouldn’t allow the younger sister to travel alone, they had both been sent off. Sometimes she still smarted under the injustice of it all. She thought a moment. “How did they all figure out—?” She stopped, not certain how much he knew.
“When I gave my name and rank, the lieutenant put two and two together.”
“Really?” She kept herself from looking at the man still staring out the window.
“And figured out you are my wife. Mrs. Zachary Highwood, right?” At least he had the sense to whisper.
Chapter Fifteen
Gordonsville, Kentucky
September 30, 1862
Where was Benjamin, and why hadn’t he warned them?
“Speak or I’ll shoot!”
“Jus’ some weary travelers, suh.” She deepened her voice, masking the fear.
A man stepped out of the shadows, his uniform light in the moonlight, a rifle held across his chest.
She shot Meshach a look meant to keep him quiet and kept her hands in front of her. Not that she had anything to hide. The rifle lay safe behind the wagon seat. And of no use at all.
“Where y’all goin’?”
“Not far up yondah.” She nodded toward the west, keeping her hat low over her face. The urge to tell him more caused her to bite her tongue. Benjamin had reminded them just before starting out tonight that the less said, the better.
“What are ya carrying?” The soldier stepped closer to the wagon, his rifle at the ready.
“Nothin’ much.” What do I say? “Jus’ tryin’ to gits home.” She could tell by his accent he was southern, but a rifle pointed was still a rifle, no matter whose side held it.
“Where’s home?” This time he looked at her directly.
She squared her shoulders and sucked in a deep breath trying to conceal the frenzy of her thoughts. Why hadn’t she figured for this in advance? What town lay ahead? Where had they been?
The black baby let out a wail that made her spine tingle, it sounded so like a wounded animal.
The soldier stepped back.
An idea sizzled into her frozen mind. “Ah, you might not want to get too close, suh. That baby real sick. You might catch what he got.”
“Sick?” The man stepped back again.
“Can you tell the smallpox?”
“S-smallpox?” He took three more steps back, moonlight glistening on the whites of his eyes.
“Well, we ain’t sure what it is, but the baby be right sick. You know how to cure the pox, if that be it?”
“No. No, I don’t.” He waved his rifle. “You git on outa here now.”
The baby wailed again.
“Right now, you hear me?”
“Yes, suh. Thankee, suh.” Jesselynn put her heels to Ahab’s ribs as Meshach clucked the team forward. They trotted down the road without looking back, even though for Jesse the temptation was nigh unbearable.
They caught up with Benjamin about a mile or so up the road when he whistled his presence.
“He din’t stop me,” the young man answered when questioned. “I din’t know he was even dere.”
“Most likely sleepin’ at de post till we come by. Horses and wagon make more noise.”
With the wagon moving again, the baby settled back down and fell asleep.
“How are they?” Jesselynn rode up next to Ophelia.
“Both sleepin’.” She glanced over her shoulder to the two children in the wagon bed, then up at Jesselynn. “You really think him got de pox?” Her voice carried the same fear heard in the soldier’s.
“No, not at all. I’ve never seen smallpox, but Mother told me what to watch for. You’d most likely be sick too if you spent the night in the rain like he did, naked, hungry. Poor baby.”
Daniel rode up beside Jesselynn. “I ’bout wet my britches when dat sojer hollered.”
Ophelia snickered. Meshach chuckled. And Jesselynn gave an undeniably feminine giggle before correcting herself with a deeper voice.
“ ‘Might be smallpox.’ “ Meshach imitated her comment, even to the hint of fear in her voice. Only the soldier didn’t know that the fear had nothing to do with smallpox.
Their laughter rang through the night as they kept the horses at a trot to cover the ground they’d missed because of the sick boys.
But as they trotted on through the night, following the moon on its westward descent, thoughts continued to plague Jesselynn. What was wrong with the black baby? Had Thaddeus caught something from him so quickly, or was it the rain and traveling that gave him the grippe? By the time they could see individual trees instead of just a dark bank, she’d decided that she was going herself into the next town they came to. They needed supplies, and she needed information. Maybe there’d even be a newsp
aper to tell her what was going on with the war in general and Kentucky in particular.
As always, she would check the posted list of dead and missing. Never seeing the name of Zachary Highwood helped keep hope alive. Not much but enough.
When Benjamin whistled them off the road and into a clearing, she could finally give up the feeling that she needed to keep looking behind her in case the soldier changed his mind.
“All I seen is a couple of small farms,” Benjamin said in answer to her question. “Man always up settin’ out to milkin’ him cows. You want I should go dere?”
Jesselynn nodded. That was another reason she needed to get to a town. They were about out of small coins. What farmer would be able to change a gold piece? And a young black man carrying a gold piece would be sure to create all kinds of suspicion.
While the others set up camp, Jesselynn took her little brother out behind the bushes and then down to the creek, still swollen from the rains, to wash. When she laid her cheek against his, no longer did the heat meet her. While his nose never ceased to run, and he coughed at times, she could tell he was on the mend.
“Stay here!” He pointed to the side of the creek when she tried to take him back to camp.
Yes, he was definitely feeling better.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Want hot cakes and syrup.”
She groaned inside. “Come, Thaddy. Jesse needs to eat and get some sleep.” When his lower lip came out, she swung him up in her arms and tickled his ribs. With giggles floating behind them, they marched back to the fire.
“We need a name for that boy,” she said after they’d finished eating and Ophelia went back to walking the baby. While he’d take milk from a spoon, drinking from a cup was not tolerable. And a sugar-tit took too long to make him content either. While she hated to give up one of the leather gloves, they might just have to do that. The leather would hold the milk and a hole in the end of a finger would make a nipple. If he would even suck on that.
Daughter of Twin Oaks Page 14