Tears gathered in her eyes as Julia traced the words with her fingertips. Samuel had written them as a prayer. He was struggling to love, to remain full of faith. This war had taken more of a toll on his emotions than she had imagined.
She had been so concerned with her own losses; she had never once stopped to consider what he had lost. Edward was his closest friend. They were like brothers.
She shut the Bible then picked up the watch. Carefully she opened it. Her photograph was still inside. Nothing about us has changed from his perspective. Nothing at all.
A door shut. She closed the watch then carried it, the Bible and Julius Caesar to the foyer. Her father was coming down the stairs. His leg must have been bothering him again for his foot was heavy on the boards.
He had wrapped Samuel's shirts in brown paper.
"I have gathered up the clothing."
She held out what was in her hand. "He will want these."
Dr. Stanton took the Bible and the schoolbook. "Not the watch."
"It belonged to his father."
"That is why it should stay here. It's too valuable. Someone may steal it."
She clutched the golden bob in her hand. Memories of his smile, his laughter filled her mind. She tucked the watch into her own pocket.
"We should get going," her father said. "I will take you back to the house."
Julia hesitated. She couldn't explain why but she did not want to leave. "I would like to stay here for a while, if that is all right with you."
He studied her.
"The house could use a cleaning," she said.
Half a smile emerged beneath his mustache. "Lock the door behind me. I will come back to get you when we are finished at the fort."
"What about the seminary? Should we notify them? Samuel said they had hoped to relocate."
"I will speak with Dr. Carter at the first opportunity."
He tucked the parcel under his arm. She followed him to the door.
"Do you think the soldiers will let him come home today?"
"I don't know, child. We can only pray and then do our best."
"Mr. Davis is a good lawyer."
"Yes. God has gifted him with words." He reached for the doorknob. Before opening it, he turned back to look at her. "You know, last night as I was leaving, Sam asked me to give you a message."
"What did he say?"
"He said to tell you that he loved you."
Her eyes clouded. Her lip began to quiver and for the life of her, Julia could not formulate an appropriate reply.
"I will be back soon."
"Yes," was all she could manage.
He turned for the carriage. Julia bolted the door behind him.
"
Sam passed the first night, awaking to the sound of a bugle and the stirring of military men. His close-quarters comrades yawned and stretched as they, too, prepared to begin another day in captivity.
Having no clothes but the ones he had slept in, Sam did the best he could to tidy up. He tucked in his shirt. He put on his vest. It at least covered up some of the wrinkles.
After a breakfast of slightly undercooked beans, he was delighted to discover that prisoners of his kind were allowed some measure of freedom. They did not have to remain locked in their second-floor room. The window was opened and the door unlocked. Sam and his fellow prisoners were allowed out on the portico for sun and exercise.
His back was stiff and his muscles were sore from the mattress. He stretched his arms over his head and then walked to the railing. He gazed not over the fort but out beyond its walls, toward Baltimore. The air was humid. Gray clouds were forming to the west.
"Looks like rain," he said as John came to join him.
"That it does."
Sam turned to face him. "So what does the day hold for us?"
John huffed. "You have experienced everything there is to tell already, my friend. The real test of torture here is boredom." He leaned his back against the rail, rubbed his unshaven chin. "Get your family to send books, cards, anything to pass the time."
"How long have you been here?"
"Round about the time of the occupation. I'm a lieutenant with the Maryland Guard."
Sam's stomach dropped. He wondered if John had been at the armory the night he was tossed out on his ear. He also wondered how well he knew Edward. He did not ask, though. There were Federal guards within earshot. The less they heard about his family, the better.
"You chose not to go south?" Sam asked.
"No. I'd planned to but I didn't leave when a good many of the others did. I foolishly waited. So here I am."
For the first time, Sam felt thankful for Edward's swift departure. If he had stayed, he would be here, as well.
John stretched, then rubbed out a knot in his own back. "The bunks here aren't much but I suppose they are better than the ones in the confinement cells." Sam nodded.
"Reckon I'll get some exercise."
He watched as John walked the length of the portico then turned and retraced his route. Doing so, he had to step over two other men in their company'Richard, also a member of the Maryland Guard, and William. Sam did not yet know William's occupation. Both men were sharing sections of last week's copy of The Sun.
A guard climbed the stairs. His eyes quickly swept the other prisoners then stopped on Sam. "Samuel Ward?"
"Yes, sir."
"You have a visitor."
Julia, he thought for a hopeful split second, only to remember it was most likely her father's lawyer friend, William Davis. Grateful for any news, Samuel started in the guard's direction.
John called after him. "Hope they brought you somethin' good to eat."
The guard marched Sam to a room on the first floor. To his surprise not only was William Davis waiting at the table but Dr. Stanton was, as well.
Sam smiled. "Sir, I did not expect to see you."
"I gave my oath to the Union," he said. "They aren't worried about me anymore."
Sam shook hands with both men then took a seat across from them. The guard took his place by the doorway.
"I thank you both for coming," he said.
Dr. Stanton chuckled. "You look a mess, son."
Sam smoothed back his hair and offered a sheepish grin. "Please pardon my appearance. This hotel does not provide shaving accessories and the tailor shop is closed." They laughed.
"I see they haven't captured your sense of humor," Dr. Stanton said.
A brown paper parcel had been lying on the table. He pushed it forward.
"I gathered up a few necessities for you, along with your Bible and one of your history books."
"Oh, thank you. I appreciate that." He would find the comb and toothbrush as soon as he got back to the room. "I am not in a confinement cell," he told them. "They have us in a room on the second floor. There are bunks with mattresses and a window."
"That is a relief to know," Dr. Stanton said. "Still, if there is anything else you would like to have just let me know."
He was dying to ask him about Julia, but didn't. He looked to Mr. Davis instead. "Were you able to speak with the lieutenant colonel?"
"Yes. I demanded your release since no specific charges have been presented. He cited a great deal of military and political drivel but basically would not comply."
Sam's shoulders slumped. "How long will I be here?"
Davis shrugged. "It is hard to say. Evidently, in wartime the government has decided it can forgo legality. But I won't let you sit here. I will investigate other avenues. I will find a way."�
�
Sam believed he would. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate all your efforts."
"And I will speak with Dr. Carter and the seminary," Dr. Stanton said. "I will let them know what has happened and ask them to hold your position until you return."
"Thank you. I appreciate that, as well. When I spoke last with Dr. Carter he said they were close to resuming studies."
The guard at the door pulled a watch from his pocket. "You have five minutes," he told them.
Davis glanced at Dr. Stanton. "I will wait outside for you." He rose from his seat then looked back at Sam. "I will leave no stone unturned," he promised.
Sam shook his hand. "I know you will."
"I'll return as soon as I have news," he said and then turned for the door.
"Four minutes," the guard called out.
Sam looked back at Dr. Stanton. Julia's father now had another package. It must have been sitting on his lap because Sam hadn't noticed it before. His spirit lifted immediately. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in a dishcloth, tied up with twine.
"Julia sent this."
The mere mention of her name brought a smile to his face. Sam quickly unwrapped the cloth. It was a loaf of bread and a jar of strawberry jam. He thought of what John upstairs had just said about visitors bearing food. He laughed.
"She thought you might like it," her father said.
"I do."
It was a hopeful sign. At best she had forgiven him for implicating her family with abolitionists. Or at worst, she felt sorry for him. Whatever the motive behind the bread, at least she was thinking of him.
"How is she?" he asked.
"She is worried about you. She is at your house, cleaning."
"Cleaning?"
Dr. Stanton shrugged and smiled. "She said it needed doing."
Sam laughed. The thought of Julia in his home, in their home at this moment, then made his voice thick with emotion. "Tell her that I thank her."
"I will."
"Time is up," the guard announced.
Not wanting to leave the Federal Army's good graces, Dr. Stanton and Sam both immediately stood. They shook hands. Sam's throat was still tight.
"Thank you for coming," he managed.
"You are welcome, son. Don't worry. We will get you out of here soon. I promise."
"
Julia had scrubbed the kitchen and foyer floors and was working her way through the parlor when her arms and knees gave out. Sighing, she put aside her scrub brush and wiped her hands on her apron. Her eyes roamed the room. The curtains in the parlor entryway were now free of dust. The clock on the mantel held correct time. It ticked softly.
How often she had imagined housekeeping in this home. How often she had thought of days filled with children and nights beside the one she had promised to love for all time.
But everything is different now. Everything has changed.
An empty ache filled her heart. The man she had promised to marry was now a prisoner at Fort McHenry, a captive of the Federal Army.
Sitting there in the empty house, all Julia could do was cry.
"
Sam carried his packages back to his room. His new friends were all waiting.
"What did they bring you?" Richard asked.
Sam grinned and laid the clothing on his bunk. He held out Julia's bread and jam.
John practically licked his lips. "From the lady of the house?"
"Yes." He offered him a slice.
John did not have to be asked twice. Neither did the others. Smacking lips and nods of approval soon filled the room.
"Good bread," John said. "What's her name?"
Sam felt pride and thankfulness both at the same time. "Her name is Julia."
John dipped his last bite in the jam. "I hope she sends more."
"So do I," Sam said.
The food was gone within a matter of minutes but the men had enjoyed every bite. Belly full and heart lightened for the first time in days, Sam spent the rest of the morning on the portico. Legs outstretched, he read the Scriptures. What a blessing it was to have his Bible with him.
The sound of the soldiers' cadence and the flapping flag faded from his ears. Rain was now drizzling but he did not mind.
Thank You, Lord, for what You are doing, he prayed. Thank You that she has not forgotten me.
"
Julia had returned to her housecleaning with a determined strength, as though she was personally at war with the dirt and dust that had dared invade Samuel's floors. By the time her father came back she had cleaned the staircases and all three floors.
"Did you see Sam?" she asked immediately.
"Yes. For a few minutes. He said to thank you for the bread and jam."
She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She turned and quickly wiped it away so her father would not see. She moved toward the kitchen. He followed her.
"I am grateful his conditions are not as bad as I expected," he said. "He isn't in a cell. He is in a room with bunks and other political prisoners."
"It is still jail," she said. She took off the apron she was wearing, one she had found in a drawer belonging to Samuel's mother. She hung it on a peg behind the kitchen door. "When will they release him?"
"I don't know but William says he will keep at it."
"Do they know about the runaway slave?"
"No."
She sighed heavily. "Then there is no reason to hold him."
"The army will realize that in time."
But with how much time? She thought. What if in the meantime they find out about his abolitionist activities? What if they keep him months or even years?
The thought of Samuel being held at the fort for an extended amount of time caused her hands to shake. Tears multiplied in her eyes. Soon she could no longer hide them.
"There now, child," her father said as he wrapped his arms around her. "Don't lose faith. God watches over him. The Almighty won't allow anything in our lives that isn't part of His ultimate plan."
"Even Federal soldiers?"
"Yes. Even Federal soldiers."
They stood there for several minutes. Julia clung to him like she had often done when she was small.
"It will be all right," he promised her.
Oh, Lord, she prayed. Please, let it be so. Please let Samuel come home.
"You have had a long day," her father said, finally. "We should go home."
Chapter Fifteen
When Julia arrived home, her mother encouraged her to go upstairs and rest.
"You were up all night," she said, "and you have worked hard all morning."
"But what about the prayer meeting and the things which need tending to here?"
"Leave that to me. Go on now. I won't take no for an answer."
With a smile, her mother pushed her from the kitchen. Julia climbed the staircase, feeling the ache of every tired muscle with each ascending step. She went to her room and shut the door behind her.
She didn't even bother changing her dress. She simply unhooked her collar, loosened her cuffs and sat down on the bed. From her pocket, she took out Samuel's gold watch. It had run down and needed winding. After doing so, Julia tucked up her knees and laid her head on her pillow. She clutched his watch close to her heart and closed her eyes. She waited for sleep to come.
It did not.
Her mind was filled with images of Fort McHenry, of marching men in blue and musty old buildings where plans for war were made. Her father had told her that Samuel wasn't in a cell. For that she was thankful. Still, she wondered just what the c
onditions were like. She could not imagine they were very comfortable.
What is he doing at this moment? Is he lonely? Is he thinking of me?
She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She had baked his bread and had scrubbed his floors all because she knew she must do something. Her acts of service, though, weren't enough. They did not fill the emptiness in her heart nor wash away the guilt she felt.
He is there because he defended my family. He was defending me. He said he would do so and I didn't believe him.
She winced, remembering that day in the churchyard.
"I would give my life for you, for your family, if necessary."
Samuel's eyes had been fixed on hers. She'd seen the hurt in them when she told him he was all talk. Julia now felt sick to her stomach, sick of heart.
Oh, God, forgive me for how I have treated him. He has done everything he said he would and yet I have done nothing but insult him. Sally said she believed I was making a mistake, that Samuel truly loved me.
She thought about the first time he had declared his love for her. It was April, only one year ago. War between the states was unthinkable. Spring was in full bloom and Samuel had just returned home on a semester break.
They had enjoyed a quiet family supper. While Edward was still in the dining room, finishing his dessert, Julia and Samuel had moved to the garden.
The sinking sun cast a soft glow over the daffodils. Cherry blossoms swayed in a subtle breeze. Julia had reached up to touch their silky, soft petals.
"Aren't they wonderful?" she'd said. "So pretty."
He had watched her sniff a branchful.
"Not as pretty as you," he'd said.
She'd frozen, her cheeks matching the color of the flowers. She never knew how to respond when Samuel said things like that but she liked to hear them.
"Tell me, what news is there of Philadelphia?" she'd asked. "Have you visited all the historical places?"
"I have. I have even visited Independence Hall."
"Oh, how wonderful! What else?"
He'd led her to the bench. Julia's heart pounded at being so near him.
Her Rebel Heart Page 19