“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am nothin’. Call me Pearl.” Her gap-toothed grin drew a smile from Harrison.
Knees suddenly shaking, he gratefully slid onto the bench at the table across from McDonald. “Bella.” He caught her hand. “Is Daphne—”
Bella shook her head, her piercing eyes deflating his hope.
“I’m so very sorry. When?”
“December.”
Harrison suppressed a groan. All this time, she’d been here in Richmond without even her sister. Useless risk!
“Abraham’s here.”
“What?”
She pointed to the far corner of the room, where he lay sleeping on a pallet, his leg wrapped in bandages. Bella told him the extraordinary story of his escape, and Harrison could not have been more astonished.
“Just like that? He just walked out?”
She nodded. “But he’s not walking anymore for I don’t know how long.” Firelight glinted in her eyes. “Harrison. You’ll have to leave without us.”
As much as he wanted to, he could not, would not contradict her to ease his conscience. She was right. The guards would be combing the area for fugitives soon enough. A man needed the use of both his legs for any hope of evasion.
Pearl slid tumblers of water and plates of cold ham and cornbread to Harrison and McDonald. With their stomachs so unused to real food, they would have to eat slowly.
“We’ve got a safe hiding place for you in the main house.” Bella sat across from them as they ate, folding her hands on the table. “You can rest in there. We’ll pack you some food, give you better clothes. Then we’ll send for help to get you outside the city.”
Harrison nodded as she spoke, eyes closed as he enjoyed the glorious sensation of food filling his belly.
“Only we can’t go just yet. Captain Russell is inside with Sophie.”
Harrison’s eyes popped open. The ham soured in his mouth, and he swallowed it. “Captain Russell, eh?”
“Her suitor.”
“Does she love him?” Harrison felt McDonald’s eyes on him.
Bella’s brown eyes sparkled. “You got a stake in that claim?”
Harrison shrugged. Suddenly he didn’t feel like talking about it.
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, smiling. “Well then. In the meantime, there’s clean water and soap for you both to wash up. I’d offer a razor if I had one, but it seems you already found one.” She flicked a glance to the fuzz on his head.
Self-consciously, he ran his hand over it. “Does it look that bad?”
Bella folded her arms across her waist, tilted her head and squinted. “It looks lighter. You must have shaved all the orange off. Grew back auburn. Get a little meat back on your bones and you just might look handsome.” Her smile flashed brightly. It was being near Abraham again, Harrison decided, that brought out this teasing side she’d kept hidden before.
He swung his long legs over the back of the bench and crossed to the wash basin. Laving the water over his face and neck, he rejoiced that it did not smell of sewage or taste like the James River. He spied a tin of tooth powder on the edge of the stand, sprinkled some on his finger and did the best he could to clean his teeth.
“We gotta burn your clothes, men, before you pass your vermin to the rest of us.”
Harrison flinched, embarrassed by his unclean state. “Have you got anything other than petticoats for us to put on?”
She tossed a suit of clothes to each of the men, and Harrison caught it at his chest in wonder.
“Like I said. You’re late. We had time to prepare.” She pointed to the ladder, and Harrison and McDonald climbed up creaking rungs into the sleeping quarters to change.
When they returned downstairs, Harrison joined Bella at the window while McDonald struck up a conversation with Pearl.
“Looks like Sophie’s getting rid of him early tonight,” she murmured.
Sophie and Captain Russell stood framed in the doorway to the back porch. Harrison’s gut curled inward as he watched the captain pull her close, one hand behind her waist, the other plunged into her curly blonde hair. Russell bent and took her lips, their silhouettes melting together into one indistinguishable form.
Unable to watch, Harrison turned away. He could almost smell the roses in Sophie’s hair, the violets on her skin.
“Uh-oh,” Bella said, jerking Harrison’s attention to her.
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say it looks like he’s not ready to say good night. Mmmm, for shame! Oh—she slapped him! Good girl.”
Scorching heat rushed to Harrison’s head and licked through his veins. He was at the window again, desperate to make sense of the scene. Russell held her fast at the waist. She arched her back, pressed her hands to his chest, turned her face away. “Is she being coy?” Sophie had never played games with Harrison.
“Captain seems to think so.” Bella grunted.
Sophie struggled against him until finally, he let her go.
“Wait another minute now.” Then Bella turned to him. “He’s gone. I’ll take Major McDonald over first. I want to tell her you’re here before you show up like a ghost and shock her out of her wits, Mr. Caldwell.”
Harrison nodded.
Pearl wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll find Lois and the girls. They can make sure Fischer don’t get in the way tonight.” Straightening the blue headscarf above her determined brow, she hustled away on her errand.
Bella motioned to McDonald, and he slipped out the door behind her, crossed the yard, and disappeared into Sophie’s house.
Sophie smoothed her hair back into place with shaking hands. Maybe she shouldn’t have slapped Lawrence. It was instinct, not a calculated risk. He’d been getting bolder lately, and without a chaperone, she had no idea how far he’d let his passions take him. And me.
The back door creaked open, and she whirled around to see Bella. A tall, thin, broad-shouldered man was right behind her.
“Sophie, this is Major McDonald, 101st Ohio.” Bella’s words sent a charge right through her.
“The prison break,” she whispered. “We’re ready for you. Follow me.”
Bella stayed her with a hand on her arm. “Harrison’s back.” She jerked her head toward the rear door.
Sophie looked from Bella to McDonald and back again. Both of them nodded. “But—but Captain Russell said he escaped weeks ago!”
McDonald grinned. “A ruse. He missed roll call one day while digging our escape tunnel. We spread the word he’d lit out of there days ago, and he stayed in the cellar ever since. Until this very night.”
“I fed them in the kitchen,” Bella added. “Take McDonald up, and I’ll send Harrison over. I expect there will be more to come.”
As in a dream, Sophie swept up the walnut staircase to the spare room, heard herself explaining the hiding space to McDonald, watched her finger point to the pallets, the pails of water, the chamber pots, the kerosene lamps. His thanks were muffled by the voice in her head. Harrison’s alive! He’s here!
She barely felt the stairs beneath her feet as she glided back down. For there, at the bottom of them, stood Harrison, in her father’s suit. His hair cut short, and far lighter than it had been. His cheekbones sharp above his shadowed jaw. Freckles gone without the sun to bring them out. His eyes, haunted, holding hers fast. He had seen too much of this dreadful war.
Without thinking, she placed her hand on the scruff of his jaw, and he covered it with his own.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he whispered, and a crushing ache consumed her heart. “Too late?” Gaslight glinted on the flecks of caramel in his brown eyes, and she knew. He had seen her with Lawrence on the porch.
Blinking back the moisture glazing her eyes, she shook her head, and locks of hair Lawrence had loosened came tumbling down again. No, not too late. But tears locked the words in her throat.
Footfalls thudded on the back porch, and Sophie stepped back from Harrison. The door groaned on it
s hinge.
And Lawrence stepped inside. “Forgot my hat—oh. You’ve company. And so soon after I left. And here I thought you were tired, darling.”
Sophie’s tongue thickened in her mouth, utterly useless.
His back to the door, Harrison’s features hardened into carved stone. Then, he winked at her, so solemnly she almost didn’t catch it. He spun around to face Lawrence. “Captain Russell!” He extended his hand, and, miraculously, Lawrence shook it.
“Shaw? Oliver Shaw?” Lawrence’s brow relaxed as a broad grin stole over his face.
“I was hoping there’d be a party here tonight. Forgive me, I’ve been away, and was eager for company. How splendid to see you here.”
“Yes, quite, but I daresay I wouldn’t have recognized you on the street. You look like one of Lee’s boys now!”
“Ah!” Harrison somehow beamed, as if it were a compliment. “Yes, I’ve been out with General Lee’s army these past several weeks as a correspondent.”
“And from the looks of it, Northrop hasn’t been feeding you very well. I’ll have to harp at Mr. Graham to see if we can’t do something about that.”
“Well, when a reporter joins the army, his fare is the same as that of the soldier. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Unless there was a way for all of us to be fed, of course.” He laughed, and Sophie struggled to match his nonchalance. If Harrison Caldwell hadn’t been reported to have escaped weeks ago, surely Lawrence would suspect the subterfuge.
“Say, I called on you at the Southern Examiner office and they didn’t know a thing about you. Did I have the wrong office?”
Harrison rocked back on his heels, folded his arms. “They didn’t have room for one more staff correspondent. As it turns out, I’m not the only one who has come to Richmond in search of work.” He chuckled again. “So I’ve been working independently, writing the stories I want to, and then just hoping and praying some paper buys them.”
Lawrence nodded. “That explains it.”
Sophie watched the exchange in awed silence. And I thought Harrison had no use for fiction! He was better at lying than she was, by far.
“Love to stay and chat, Shaw, especially about how Lee’s artillery is holding up. We’ve had nothing but trouble at Tredegar trying to get him what he asks for. But I’ve got somewhere else to be right now.”
Sophie fetched his hat.
Lawrence took it from her without thanks. “Will you be in town much longer? We’ll get Sophie to throw another soiree. How does that suit you?”
“Excellent. Only I expect to leave again as soon as I find a buyer for my stories. So if all goes well, it will be some time before I see you next.” He flashed a grin and shook Lawrence’s hand in parting.
“Next time, then. Good luck.” Lawrence turned to Sophie. “Don’t stay up too late. You’re tired, remember?” And he pulled her fiercely to him, kissed her right in front of Harrison. Her pulse shot through her as he lingered on her lips.
She broke away, mortified, and tucked her chin to hide the shame now trickling down her cheeks.
Lawrence left, and the silence throbbed between Sophie and Harrison. She could not bear to meet his gaze. Imagining the hurt or anger—or even worse, apathy—was quite enough.
Come,” Sophie whispered, wiping the tears from her face, and Harrison followed her up the stairs. The sconces in the hallway barely illuminated their path. But he was used to seeing in the dark. “The hiding place is in the spare room, this way.” She led him forward as if another man had not just kissed her in front of him. As if she didn’t realize how much self-restraint he’d employed not to take her first kiss in Philadelphia.
“Sophie.” He touched her hand, and she turned toward him. He would not grab and pull her, like Lawrence had. “I can’t hide away without knowing the truth first. About you and Russell. Please, tell me what’s going on.” His forefinger traced the side of her palm down to the tip of her little finger. He willed her to respond.
Tears shimmered in her green eyes. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really? Because it looks like you belong to him. Has he captured your heart? Or just your lips?” His words lashed from him, snapping like whip.
She gasped. “Harrison, I have to let him love me.”
“What? Why?” Confusion and frustration boiled in his chest. “From where I’m standing, he doesn’t love you at all. Can’t you see that? Taking liberties until you slap him and still not letting you go. Kissing you right in front of a near stranger, for that’s all I am to him. Those are not acts of love and respect! Those are the actions of a man marking his territory for both you and me to see.”
“Please, you don’t understand. Let me ex—”
“Truly, Sophie, if I had known a kiss was all it took to seal you as my own, I would have kissed you in Philadelphia.” For he never had. He’d done the honorable thing, and hadn’t tasted her lips at all because he hadn’t asked her father’s permission yet. There would be time for that later, he’d reasoned. “Was he your first kiss, then, or were there others in between?” How many nights did I dream of kissing Sophie Kent? And how many of those nights was she busy kissing other men?
She shook her head. “He was the first.”
Anger exploded in his head. “So precious a gift, and you gave it to a Confederate officer? A man bent on warring against the principles you once held dear?”
“I still hold them dear!” Sophie’s voice shook. “I still hold you dear.”
Her conflicting messages disoriented him until he barely knew which way was up. “Then why, why do you give yourself to him?” And then a single thought snaked through him as the sound of her slap shuddered through him. Perhaps she didn’t give to him as much as he took from her.
“He—I—I’m—”
The suspense ignited his imagination.
“I’m a spy!”
Like a punch, the word knocked the air from his lungs. His forehead already ached with his frown. “What?” What was she thinking to play such a dangerous game?
“He has information that may be useful to the Union. But I can only hear it if I continue my relationship with him!” Her breath hitched as she gripped his biceps. “I don’t love him,” she whispered, wide eyes gleaming in the shadowy hallway. “Please believe me, I don’t love him.”
It was the “Please believe me,” that caused his hope to flare. That made him hold his tongue, and wait for more.
“I thought you were gone. Or dead.” Her hands tented over her lips.
Harrison opened his aching arms, and she accepted his invitation, resting her forehead against his shoulder. He wrapped her in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and kissed her hair, the delicate rose oil scent stirring his senses. “I never meant to stay away so long. But I’m here now.”
She shook her head, her silken curls snagging in the stubble of his chin. She slid her hands from her face and leaned them on his chest. “You’re leaving again. And soon. You must.” He could barely hear her over the roaring of his thoughts. “And I must stay.”
She was right. Harrison bowed his head toward hers. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Sophie. If he hurts you, pushes you, or even hints that he might, I want you to stop letting him near you.” He kissed her hair again, his lips brushing the top of her ear. Then her temple, then her cheek, and tasted the salt of her tears. When she lifted her face and rose on her toes, the longing he had struggled to bury resurrected. Her fingers clasped behind his neck, and he took her lips in tender passion while his hands memorized the gentle curves of her waist.
Then, cradling the back of her head with his hand, he felt a hairpin between his fingers, and fought the urge to dislodge it, to dislodge all of them. Desire swelled, and the darkness made him far too bold. We are not man and wife that I may unbind her hair, he told himself. We are … what, exactly?
Harrison pressed one final kiss to Sophie’s lips before taking a step back, his hands cupping her shoulders. “Sophie,” he breathed
, “if things were different I would ask your father’s permission to court you properly.”
“But you can’t.”
“I want you to know that I would.”
“If things were different.”
“Yes.”
But things were not different. He was an escaped prisoner of war on the run. She was a spy of Richmond. They simply could not be together.
“TROUBLES NEVER come alone, but in battalions.”
—SALLIE ANN BROCK, Richmond citizen
“WE HAVE TO BE WATCHFUL and circumspect—wise as serpents—and harmless as doves, for truly the lions are seeking to devour us.”
—ELIZABETH VAN LEW, Union agent in Richmond
Outside Richmond, Virginia Peninsula
Thursday, February 11, 1864
The baying of the bloodhounds clawed at Harrison’s ears. They were getting closer, and so were their handlers, as they bounded between rivers and creeks on this marshy peninsula. He could almost feel their teeth sinking into his cold flesh. Every muscle in his body quivered with tension as he crouched behind an uprooted tree trunk, McDonald beside him. “Go!”
The two men launched out from their hiding place like arrows from their bows. Harrison pumped his legs as hard and fast as he could, deliberately crisscrossing his path with McDonald’s to confuse the tracking dogs. The chilled Virginia swamp had long since soaked through the paper-thin soles of Harrison’s shoes, and now sucked at his feet. Every breath seared his lungs as he chugged the wintery air, while fire raged within his thighs and calves.
Only when their bodies gave out did Harrison and McDonald halt their excruciating race and collapse near a mound of stones. Bones bleached white with sun and time poked up from a drift of wet leaves, a reminder of the fierce fighting on this land two years ago that could have ended the war, had the Union won.
“That’s the Chickahominy.” Panting, McDonald pointed to a river about a hundred yards off. “We’ve got to cross it to get to Williamsburg, and this here is as good a place as any. Maybe better. But later.” He wheezed. “Nightfall.”
Spy of Richmond Page 22