by Hale Deborah
For reasons she couldn’t fathom, Caddie found herself taking her own advice to Dora. Putting herself in Manning’s place. Why had he come and what made him stay, she wondered, if not the desire to get rich quick, as she had first supposed? Nothing about this mysterious Yankee made any sense.
She realized she’d missed part of their conversation when Mr. Larkin suddenly raised his voice to make a telling point.
“The Freedmen’s Bureau needs money to operate, too. Our gallant boys in blue didn’t fight and die to free those folks just to throw them out of the only kind of work they’re fit for.”
A mess of contradictory feelings tugged Caddie this way and that, like a child tormented in a game of blindman’s bluff. Her mama had taught her to treat their servants with a firm but gentle hand. Ten years ago, she would have sworn that Mammy Dulcie, Big Amos, Uncle William and the rest were practically family—better cared for than so-called freedmen living in the hungry squalor of Northern cities. She’d been certain they would scorn emancipation.
Until she’d watched her slaves desert her when Union soldiers marched into Richmond. Celebrating in the streets like the day of deliverance had arrived.
“I wore a Union uniform for four years.” Manning’s voice sounded tired. “I wasn’t a boy and I sure as hell wasn’t gallant. I didn’t join up to free the slaves, but I’m glad it came about or that whole war would have been for nothing. I don’t know what needs doing to help those folks, but it’s a big mistake to grind the Confederate states into the dust in the name of the Freedmen’s Bureau. Sow that kind of poison seed and folks will reap a crop of hate around here long after we’re gone.”
A shiver went through Caddie as she listened. Had women in Bible times experienced this curious mixture of fear and excitement when they heard the Old Testament prophets speak?
Eavesdropping on Manning’s conversation with the tax collector, she found herself inclined to echo Varina’s initial judgment of the man.
I don’t believe he is a Yankee.
As Manning watched Mr. Larkin ride off down the lane, he decided he’d throttle the next person who had the nerve to call him a carpetbagger. His interview with the tax collector had given him an intimate understanding of all the term implied. And he didn’t care to be tarred with that brush.
Another unpleasant thought struck him. What would Caddie say when she found out he hadn’t been able to budge the man a penny on their tax levy?
Manning wasn’t long finding out.
“Well?” Caddie’s voice sounded behind him, though he hadn’t heard any warning swish of skirts. “Any luck?”
He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to give her the bad news after they’d started the day on such an unpleasant note. This kind of information wasn’t like cheese or whiskey, he decided—it wouldn’t improve with age. “Larkin means to stand firm on his original assessment down to the last penny. We haven’t got long to raise it, either.”
“You could have talked him down, if you’d been more agreeable.” Why didn’t Caddie’s voice sound angry?
“Agreeable how?”
He looked out over the property, all green and gold in the sun. Considering the way the lane hooked around that big old chestnut, the tree must have been a good size when Tem and Varina’s ancestors claimed this land on a charter from the king of England.
To a man who didn’t know the name of his father, let alone his forefathers, this connection between the Marsh family and Sabbath Hollow seemed almost mystical.
Perhaps Caddie sensed his regret over letting them down, for her voice held neither blame nor bitterness. “Agreeable in running down the South. Making us out to be a bunch of proud sinners who need to be humbled. That way Mr. Larkin could feel all righteous about what he’s doing.”
“How do you know I didn’t do just that?”
“I—overheard some of what you told him.”
“You didn’t need to eavesdrop. I wouldn’t have said anything different if you’d joined us.”
“I didn’t dare stay, or that awful man might have provoked me to violence.” Caddie’s lips crooked in a wry smile. “Without the excuse of a blue-tailed fly.”
In spite of the worries churning inside him, Manning laughed, too, as he remembered the tax collector’s dazed look. Considering the jolt of jealous rage that’d blasted through him when Larkin ogled Caddie, it was a wonder he hadn’t done the man worse harm.
“I apologize for listening in on your conversation, but I wouldn’t change a word of what you said to Mr. Larkin.”
Manning told himself not to glance back at her, but his head turned of its own accord.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t change his mind... and... I’m sorry I was so cross with you this morning.” He searched for an excuse that would absolve her without incriminating him. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.”
The image of waking up in a bed with Caddie blazed in his mind. Hard as he tried to banish it, it wouldn’t go away. A bed holding Caddie wouldn’t have any wrong sides.
Perhaps his face betrayed a hint of his scandalous thoughts, for she averted her eyes. “We all do that now and then. No harm in it. I reckon when folks live under the same roof, they can’t go tiptoeing around, fearful of giving offense with anything they say or do. Families need to go easy with each other and stand together in hard times.”
Manning nodded slowly. Slowly he extended his hand to her. Somehow he got the feeling she was saying more than he could fathom. He liked the sound of it, anyway.
Just then, the children came tearing around the house.
“Mama, Manning, guess what?” hollered Tem.
Before they could guess, Varina let the cat out of the bag. “We made a circus—wanna see?”
Templeton cast his sister a black look. “We walk on our stilts. Rina can juggle crabapples. And I taught Sergeant some real good tricks.”
Caddie squeezed Manning’s hand. “You two were so quiet this morning I wondered what mischief you might be getting up to. Do we get to see this great circus, or just hear about it?”
“You can watch,” Varina assured her mother. “Dora, too.”
“Around back by the pump,” added Tem. “Give us a few minutes to get ready then come.”
With that, they raced away again.
For a moment Manning forget everything but how much he loved those children. “You’ve done a fine job raising those two.”
Caddie shook her head. “You wouldn’t say so if you’d seen how they moped while you were gone.”
She still hadn’t let go of his hand. “Would you do me the honor of escorting me to the circus, Mr. Forbes?”
Every particle of sunshine in the whole day seemed to concentrate on the spot where he stood. “The honor would be mine, ma’am.”
That shimmering warmth followed him around to the flat, shaded spot where Tem and Varina put on their show. Manning laughed more in the next quarter hour than he had in the previous fifteen years combined.
Yet hard as he tried to fix his full attention on the children, his eyes kept straying to the pump behind them. What pretext could he invent for taking it apart and poking around the well beneath, without provoking Caddie’s suspicion more than he had already?
Worse yet, what if he’d misinterpreted the last ramblings of a dying man—and the lost Marsh silver wasn’t hidden under that water pump?
Chapter Thirteen
“WHAT’S THIS?” CADDIE stared at the big metal chest crusted with dirt. Sergeant sniffed around it suspiciously.
Manning’s expectant look and Tem’s barely contained jubilation told her what it must be, but she didn’t even want to hope until she was completely certain.
“It better be worth digging up the well.” She peered past her husband and son at their messy excavation.
For some reason it made her recall the day Manning had shown up at Sabbath Hollow and how she’d watched him wash at the pump.
“Open it up,” ordered Varina.
&nb
sp; “Can’t you see it’s locked, silly?” Tem fairly vibrated with excitement
Caddie shook her head. “I don’t have a key.”
“I do,” said Manning.
Her already speeding heart beat faster still. How had Manning gotten his hands on a key to this box... unless...?
Grinning like a fool, he pulled a crowbar from behind his back. “This big ugly key will open pretty near any lock.”
Caddie fought down the urge to swat him as some of the tension seeped out of her. “Go ahead. I want to find out if...”
Wild superstition kept her from elaborating on that if.
“Yes, ma’am.” He dug the wedge-shaped end of the crowbar under the lid, then in a burst of power that set Caddie’s pulse fluttering in her throat, Manning wrenched it open.
A ridiculous stab of disappointment hit her when she saw only brown bundles of various sizes.
Manning plucked out one fat cylinder and untied it. A long roll of leather unwound across the grass.
It jingled.
“Oh, my,” Caddie breathed as she sank to her knees and began pulling piece after piece of silver flatware from pouches that ran the length of the specially crafted holder. “I can’t believe it. You really have found the Marsh silver.”
“Forks?” Varina infused that word with perfect disgust. “All this fuss over a mess of forks? I thought you found something good, Tem.”
“Shows what you know, Rina Marsh. These here are silver forks and they’re worth a whole heap a money. So there!”
“Yes, they are, darling.” Caddie unwrapped an elaborately engraved silver tray. Maybe she’d serve Lon and the tax collector a big old roasted crow on it “This’ll take care of our money worries for a while to come, I should think.”
Pay the taxes. Begin refurnishing the house. Maybe buy a filly of good blood to start rebuilding their stock? Too soon for that. A milk cow and a few shoats would be more practical.
She looked from Manning to Templeton and back again. “I don’t understand how you found it—in the well of all places.”
“It wasn’t down in the water, Mama,” Tem explained patiently. “There was a shelf built just a little way down.”
Manning shook his head as he looked over the contents of the dirty old box with obvious satisfaction. “The boy knew where to find it. I suppose his pa or his grandpa must have spoken about it when he was around, forgetting that little pitchers have big ears and long memories.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner, Son?” The child looked proud enough to bust. Also a little scared, Caddie sensed, unless her motherly intuition was misleading her.
Templeton shrugged and gave the answer boys had likely been giving their mothers since back in Bible times. “Don’t know.”
If only they’d found this hidden windfall the first night they’d arrived from Richmond... Caddie balked at the thought. She wouldn’t have had to marry Manning Forbes. How much poorer her life and the children’s lives would be now.
“The important thing is, we have it now when we really need it.” She pulled Tem down beside her and wrapped her arm around his shoulders to let him know he mustn’t feel bad.
Manning kept opening bundles and laying their precious contents before Caddie, like an emissary from olden days bringing tribute to a queen. “I don’t think the boy recognized the significance of what he’d heard until I told him about the Marsh silver. I had a hunch he might know something—even if he didn’t realize he knew it.”
“You’re our hero, precious.” Caddie hugged her son again. “Years from now, you’ll tell your grandchildren how you found a hidden treasure and saved Sabbath Hollow. Why, look at this!”
She unwrapped a glass cylinder sealed with wax that held some rolled-up documents. “Unless I miss my guess, this is the original royal charter for the very first Marsh who claimed Sabbath Hollow, back when Virginia was a young colony.”
She handed it to Templeton, who looked properly impressed. “We’ll make a nice frame for it and hang it up in the house.”
Glancing up, she saw her daughter investigating the spot Tem and Manning had dug up. “Varina, scoot away from that hole right this minute! Nobody needs you to cap off an exciting day by falling down the well.”
Before she got those words out, Manning had seized Varina around the middle and pulled her out of danger. The child squirmed and giggled in his arms.
A soft tide of contentment stole over Caddie as she returned the silver and other valuables to their wrappings. As she looked back, her life before the war seemed like a golden dream—one she hadn’t suitably cherished at the time. The years since Fort Sumter had been a cruel nightmare that still haunted her. The simple, peaceful existence she enjoyed now felt real and lasting.
She looked around at Manning and the children. “I believe we should celebrate and share our good fortune by hosting a barbecue and dance.”
“That sounds like a fine idea.” Manning’s eyes met hers and a long, intense look passed between them.
Was he picturing what she was picturing? Gliding and twirling in his arms to the smooth lilt of a fiddle on a sultry summer night?
Caddie’s mouth went dry as she thought of it, and her sweet milk of contentment soured a little. Her present life did lack something, after all. Hard as she tried not to hanker after it, she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“What about you, Tem? Varina?” She tried to divert her wayward thoughts by focusing on the children. “Would you like us to get up a barbecue?”
The boy’s earlier excitement seemed to have burned itself out, for he only gave a grudging nod in reply.
Several hours later, Manning dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs, his hair stiff with sweat and the cloth of his shirt sticking to his damp skin.
“I got the hole filled in,” he puffed. “And the pump seems to be working all right again.”
Caddie held up a big glass jar. “Would you like a drink of lemonade? I just brought this up from the cellar.”
“Please.” Manning flexed his tired muscles. Maybe a drink would give him the energy to go bathe in the creek.
“I still can’t believe it.” Caddie shook her head as she strained the pale yellow liquid through cheesecloth into a tall glass. “The Marsh silver. Providence sure does work in mysterious ways.”
“Uh-huh.” Manning knew that for a fact.
How often had he pondered the divine or diabolical plan that had brought him and Delbert Marsh together, scrambling their lives like eggs in a frying pan? Finding the family valuables had been a carefully contrived plan of his own that seemed to be working.
Caddie handed him the glass and he drank the cool, tart lemonade in great thirsty gulps.
“I wonder what’s ailing Templeton?” she mused. “He seemed so excited at first, but by the time he went to bed he’d gotten real quiet and thoughtful.”
His last swallow of lemonade went down the wrong way. Manning choked and coughed, trying to catch his breath. Maybe his clever plan wasn’t unfolding so smoothly, after all.
“The boy’s probably just played out,” he managed to gasp at last. “We had quite a chore digging the hole and hoisting that heavy box up.”
Caddie didn’t look quite convinced.
“Besides, you know Tem.” Manning held out has glass for a refill. “It’s not in his nature to be excitable. Maybe he’s pondering what would have happened if we hadn’t found his grandpa’s stash. Or wishing he’d found it sooner, like you said. So his ma wouldn’t have had to marry a Yankee.”
“I’m sure it’s not that!” Caddie’s hand trembled and the lemonade sloshed over the table. “You know how fond the children are of you.”
The mild acid of Caddie’s lemonade seemed to eat away at Manning’s innards. Loving Tem and Varina gave his life meaning in a way it never had before. But for them to love him corroded his soul with guilt. Like a treasure tainted by murder and theft. He searched for a topic that would distract Caddie from her worry about Tem,
and himself from thoughts he couldn’t bear to dwell on. “We need to talk about your brother-in-law.”
Caddie cast him a questioning look, perhaps wondering about the abrupt change of subject.
“Lon?” Her nose wrinkled. “He’ll be fit to be tied when he hears we found the silver.”
“Can’t blame him much.” A chance draft sent a chill rippling over Manning’s sweat-soaked body. “By rights, half of it does belong to him. I think we should do the fitting thing and give Lon his share.”
“Have you lost your mind, Manning Forbes?” Caddie looked ready to baptize him with the rest of that lemonade. “After everything that man’s done? Trying to claim squatter’s rights on Sabbath Hollow. Turning the neighbors against us. Setting that Yankee tax collector on us.”
“You don’t know that for a fact”
“No, but I don’t doubt it either. If you could have heard the way he went on about the children and me needing a friend. Saying you’d never come back from Washington.”
“Well, he was wrong, wasn’t he? And you managed to make the neighbors see reason—all the ones who count, at least. Isn’t it time to stop this feud, before it gets out of hand?”
He could tell he was winning her over. And she didn’t want to be won.
“Do you reckon Lon would give the children and me so much as a silver teaspoon, if he’d been the one to find it?” she asked, like a desperate gambler playing her last trump card.
Manning thought for a moment then shook his head. “I don’t suppose he would which is all the more reason for us to do what’s proper. You don’t want Tem and Varina growing up to act the way Lon would, do you?”
Her lips pressed together so tightly they all but disappeared, and her eyes flashed with fury.
“I reckon not” she conceded, almost against her will.
“Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty to pay the taxes and keep us going until the business starts to turn a profit. Maybe once Lon knows the silver’s been found and he’s got a share, he’ll quit making trouble for us.”