“Thanks for the signal, I had a hard time remembering.”
“Ya did just fine,” Reba answered.
“You and Junie follow me,” Paul said, “we can’t be away from the house too long.”
“Why not, Paul?”
“It’s not safe for us t’ leave the house unguarded, and we shouldn’t be round and ‘bout either.”
“But you and Reba are free now.”
“That’s true in a legal sense, but there’s people here who are none too happy ‘bout us bein’ free.” Paul appeared worried as he spoke.
“Then please tell me what’s so important that you would venture going out at night, Paul? I can’t imagine what can be that important that you’d risk putting yourselves in danger.”
“We’ve a surprise for you, Miss Laurel.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me this afternoon? I don’t understand.”
“You’ll see in a minute,” Paul responded.
He tugged on a rope that was hidden in the foliage, and Laurel and Junie watched with amazement as he pulled a wooden box out of the depths of the pond and held the rope waiting for the water to pour out and the mud to slide off the outside before lowering the box to the ground.
“Oh this can’t be! My mother’s silver chest. Where did you…I mean how did you get this?” Her animated face soon lost its elation and was replaced with grateful emotions. She knelt down on the ground and touched the chest with one hand, wiping her tears with the other.
Paul gave Reba’s hand a squeeze. “We took this the night ya left an’ we hid it here in the pond. We hid other things too, but the looters found ‘em. We want ya t’ sell the silver t’ live on ‘til ya can find some work.”
“How can I ever thank you? I wish I could take you both with me, I can’t bear the thought of having to leave you again.”
“Now, Miss Laurel, Paul an’ me will be real fine. The Stroll’s seem fair enough people t’ work for an’ if it doesn’t turn out that way, we can always leave, an’ we can take care of ourselves. It’ll be easier on us if we don’t have t’ worry about you an’ Junie. We’ve looked after ya since ya was born an’ nothin’ can change how’s we feel. We thought about ya both every day since ya left.”
Laurel opened the chest and took out a silver ladle and handed the ornate spoon to Reba. “Please take this. Some day you may be able to use the money by selling this, too.”
“No, Miss Laurel, much as I’d be proud t’ have something of your mother’s, it’d be dangerous for me to keep.”
“Dangerous? How?”
“We could be accused of stealin’ for one thing and be arrested cause we didn’t turn the silver over t’ the government for the taxes.”
“I had no idea. I promise to send for you, someday, somehow, or I’ll come back here for you. This isn’t good-bye forever.”
“Nothin’s forever, Miss Laurel. Ya keep well an’ when ya get settled ya write t’ us and we’ll let ya know if we hear anything ‘bout the colonel,” Reba concluded, hugging Laurel tightly.
“If there’s anything we can do, Miss Laurel, ya let us know.”
“I do have one favor to ask, Paul. Would you please look after my mother’s gravesite if you get a chance?”
“Don’t worry none.” Paul helped Junie into the boat. “I’ll plant some of her fav’rite flowers an’ keep the grounds lookin’ beautiful. Wait here for a minute, I’ll be right back.”
When Paul returned, Laurel chuckled. “I think you’re going to need this,” he said as he handed her an oar.
“Thank you, Paul. I lost one in the marsh and this will save time getting back to the dock.”
After placing the heavy chest under the seat below Junie, Paul gave the boat a shove into the water. Laurel sat holding the oars in her grasp. She repeated her farewells over and over until Junie tapped her on the knee, “Dey’s gone now, chile. Best we get back t’ the riverboat.”
Laurel nodded, crying silently as they headed back to the port. Fortunately, the moon was hidden behind clouds when they arrived at the warehouse, and Laurel was grateful. She didn’t want to meet anyone around the area this late at night, especially since she’d be carrying her precious cargo.
Her dress was heavy with mud that clung to the hem and made walking difficult. Her shoes also were covered with mud, and her feet were soaked. She lifted the skirt and tied the hem into a knot above her knees before helping Junie out of the boat.
Climbing the embankment took a great deal of effort with the heavy chest, but once accomplished, they skirted along the now deserted wharf, each carrying one end of the burdensome chest.
Laurel’s spine tingled, walking along the once familiar streets. She recalled the many nights when she and her father walked about the island alone and never a thought of danger ever entered their minds. But now strangers occupied their island homes. “The war,” she cursed under her breath, “the damn war.”
As they neared the steamer, two sailors emerged from an alleyway, causing Junie and Laurel to stop in their tracks. They placed their backs against a building and stared at each other, too afraid to move a muscle. The chest of silver felt twice as heavy, and Laurel was certain her heart had stopped beating.
One of the sailors murmured an obscenity and something about having left his bag of belongings in the warehouse. The men turned around awkwardly, obviously inebriated, without noticing the two women standing like statues in the shadows. Laurel exhaled deeply and hurried Junie along to the safety of the ship.
For the first time in a long time, luck seemed to be with Laurel. She and Junie reached their cabins without encountering any trouble and once again she was able to avoid running into Captain Crowley.
Memories of days gone by flooded her mind as she lay in her bunk. How she hated those words, “four years ago…” She worried about what the future held for them and wondered how she’d be able to care for Junie and herself, search for her father and try to establish and run a business to support them.
She reached under her bunk and placed her hand on the box of silver for comfort. This and the little house her grandmother left her were all the possessions she owned, and for the first time since the war ended, she felt fortunate. She was grateful to at least have a home to go to, although she wished her grandparents were still alive, and she paused to say a prayer for those families that had lost everything.
The muscles in her chest and throat tightened and threatened to choke her. She tried not to think about the future, but the more she tried, the more she worried about whether or not she’d be able to meet the challenges that lay ahead. Her emotions ran up and down—one minute she’d think everything would turn out all right; after all, they were alive and they had a home, then the next minute her problems seemed too immense to handle. If only I could find my father…
She got out of bed and began to prepare some tea, ignoring the cheerful noises from the festivities above her. She wasn’t interested in the fun others were having.
While she waited for the water to boil on the tiny stove, she began humming, Tramp, Tramp, Tramp. Then she sang the words:
So within the prison cell
We are waiting for the day
That shall come to open wide the iron door,
And the hollow eye grows bright,
And the poor heart almost gay,
As we think of seeing friends and home once more...
She stopped singing, suddenly aware of the words of that particular stanza. She was overcome and perspiration beaded on her forehead. Again, she felt a tingling sensation and knew that her father was alive. She repeated the words, the iron door. “Prison,” she spoke. “He’s in prison somewhere. I’m certain.”
After she climbed back in bed, soft ocean breezes pervaded the cabin, and the gentle swaying of the boat and the faint sounds of romantic music from the dining salon above, soothed Laurel with thoughts of being reunited with her father, and lulled her to sleep.
Chapter Six
The
Carolina Queen
Laurel slept peacefully throughout the night and woke the following morning to the pleasant aromas of ham and eggs. A faded childhood memory. She sighed as she stretched her long limbs, and moaned at the thought of leaving a comfortable bed.
“Good morning, Miss Bray. I’m Arielle Peters. Your cabin mate, I guess you’d say.”
The soft voice came from across the room and Laurel sat up, unaware she had not been alone.
“Hello, Arielle. Thank you for allowing me to share your cabin.”
“It’s a pleasure having you, honest. Being alone gets boring sometimes. I spend most of my time on the steamer and only get to go home to visit about three days a month. Fortunately, my family lives on Hilton Head and they come to meet me once in a while at the dock.”
Laurel smiled. Arielle’s soft words were gushing and sweet, like her mother’s had been.
“The kitchen sent up breakfast and as soon as we finish eating, we’ll be leaving port. Oh, by the way, Captain Crowley’s anxious to see you,” she said, while she poured coffee. “He mentioned that he and your dad were old friends.”
“Yes, they were. Call me Laurel, please.”
Laurel stood and looked out the porthole. The sun was bright, and the wind blew salty breezes off the bay. She smiled at the sounds coming from the port; the rickety noise of rusty wagon wheels, drivers whistling to their horses, the heavy clopping of hooves, and the gleeful shouts of little children hurrying to watch the day’s activities.
“Listen, Arielle! I can remember the excitement I felt when I went with my dad to meet a riverboat. Each trip to the dock was always as if I were seeing one for the very first time. Everyone in town rushed to the river and crowded the riverbanks vying for their favorite spot to sit, then waited expectantly for the show to begin. Captain Crowley used to let me play on the stage and watch part of the rehearsal.”
Laurel and Arielle enjoyed their hearty breakfast, each asking the other questions between bites about their lives. Laurel admired Arielle’s independence, and although she realized that Arielle was older, she learned that living alone and surviving in the world was possible for a young woman. She only wished she had some talent or viable means to earn a living.
Her mood was light when Arielle left her alone to bathe. She surprised herself. She actually felt her body relax. The feeling she had seemed strange, yet pleasant, to be able to drop her guard. She forced herself to climb out of the brass circular tub. Bathing while living in exile had been a rare luxury, especially toward the end of the war. She wrapped a large towel around her while she rummaged through her valise. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, as if by doing so her old and worn dresses would magically disappear and new ones would appear.
Arielle’s wardrobe caught her eye and the brightly colored outfits tempted her—even though she considered them to be somewhat risqué. Her eyes twinkled with devilment as she looked about the room like a child checking to see if anyone was around before taking a freshly baked cookie from the pantry shelf. Oh, why not? She grabbed a bright red costume gaudily decorated with feathers and sequins out of the wardrobe and decided to see how she’d look in the outfit.
She squiggled into the dress and squirmed every which way trying to fasten the tiny buttons down the back. Tugging at the front of the dress she tried to pull the bodice over her ample bosom. The costume was made to fit tight and short in the front, showing more bosom and leg than was decent. With her hands on her waist, she twisted her hips from side to side, and smiled with self-satisfaction. For the first time in her life she felt and looked like a woman.
Suddenly the cabin door burst open. Laurel raised her chin and tossed her hair away from her face and turned her back toward the door. “Oh, Arielle, I hope you don’t mind that I tried on one of your costumes. Would you mind buttoning up the back—I can’t seem to reach…”
Masculine but cool fingers skimmed over Laurel’s skin and sent a shiver up her back and through her veins. She raised her head and stared in the mirror with her mouth agape.
She was shocked to see a tall, handsome man in a white suit smiling at her in the mirror, tipping his wide-brimmed hat. She caught her breath and placed a hand over the dress to cover her exposed flesh. “What are you doing?” She demanded.
She turned and faced him, putting her hands flat against his chest, prepared to push him away, but before she could move, Junie and Captain Crowley appeared in the doorway.
“Lordy, save us!” Old Junie yelled clasping her hands to her heart.
The short, wiry Captain Crowley, bellowed, “Major Flanagan!”
The handsome stranger released Laurel instantly, grinning. “I came to say hello to Arielle and found this beautiful damsel in distress. You should know better, Captain, than to hide someone this lovely from the likes of me.”
“Oh dear,” the captain replied, befuddled. “There’s been a big mistake. Laurel, I apologize, I hope you and your honor aren’t terribly offended. Captain Henson’d kill me if he thought I couldn’t take better care of you. And what in the name of all that’s holy are you doing in that gay outfit?” he asked, wiping the perspiration off his forehead with his handkerchief.
Laurel placed a hand over her mouth and began laughing, while everyone stared. “Forgive me. I was bored with my old clothing and decided to try on one of Arielle’s uh…costumes.”
Once again she began laughing, which motivated Junie to take action. She grabbed the damp towel Laurel had casually dropped on the floor and wrapped the cloth around Laurel’s shoulders, covering her partially exposed breasts, moaning as she did so.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?” The major asked.
“Allow me,” Captain Crowley said. “Major Flanagan, I’d like you to meet Miss Laurel Bray, the daughter of an old friend of mine, and this is her mammy, Junie.”
“My sincerest apologies, Miss Bray,” he offered, bowing. “I had no idea you were a guest on the riverboat, and my apologies to you also, Mammy, for my ungentlemanly manners.”
“Hmph!” Junie replied.
“Junie, please,” Laurel sighed, although she still couldn’t hide her amusement. “This really isn’t the major’s fault. I shouldn’t have tried on the dress. Apologies accepted, Major Flanagan, and I wish to extend my apologies also.”
“Apologies, Miss Bray?”
“Yes, Major. I assumed, judging from the way you’re dressed, and … well, your mannerisms, that you were a riverboat gambler.”
“Well that’s not too far from the truth, Laurel,” the captain intervened, chuckling. “Please join me tonight in the salon for dinner and we’ll discuss plans to locate your father. Excuse us, ladies,” he concluded, hastily ushering the major out of the cabin.
Laurel knew the moment they were alone, Junie would begin ranting and raving, and she knew she deserved the scolding, but somehow she couldn’t take the matter too seriously. She thought the situation was all very amusing, and Major Flanagan was rather dashing, albeit an apparent rogue. She smiled and ignored Old Junie’s tongue-lashing.
She recalled how the major’s blue eyes deepened and captured her attention when she turned toward him and wondered if he hadn’t planned on kissing her. Never having been truly kissed, she imagined his kiss would have been nothing like the innocent kisses she had shared with Robert the last summer she visited her grandparents in Maryland.
They had been hard, stolen, dry kisses, and not at all moist and demanding like the one she imagined the major would have given her. Funny, now that she thought about Robert, even though he was the one she dreamed about when she was a young girl, as the one she’d share her life with, she hadn’t really thought of him much during the war. And, she wondered what might have happened if Junie and Captain Crowley hadn’t intruded…
At that moment, Arielle entered the cabin interrupting her thoughts, smiling, “Well,” she said, “I hear you had a little excitement while I was gone. Holt gave me all the details.”
“Holt?”
“Yes, Major Flanagan.”
“Oh!” She looked contritely at Arielle. “I apologize for trying on one of your costumes. I should’ve asked first.”
“Think nothing of it, Laurel. I wish I’d been here to witness all the fun.”
“Hmph,” Junie snorted once again. “Ise goin’ to wash some of yo’ things, Laurel. Ya think yo’ could behave yo’self while I’m gone?”
“Yes, Junie, and I’m sorry I caused such commotion.”
The door slammed behind Junie and as soon as they were certain she was far enough away from the door, the two girls laughed.
“I understand you’re dining with the captain and Major Flanagan tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Laurel asked, scowling. “Captain Crowley didn’t mention anything about the major joining us.”
“Why the dour look? Holt’s a charming companion and very rich, too.”
Laurel didn’t answer. She ran her hands over the towel that was wrapped around her, smoothing out the wrinkles. Her eyes lowered.
“You’re worried about your wardrobe, aren’t you? Well,” Arielle continued, not waiting for Laurel to answer, “I think I can remedy that.”
“How?”
“Give me a minute,” Arielle answered as she began searching through the dresses in her wardrobe.
Laurel stood close behind her and waited anxiously. What on earth could Arielle have among her costumes that could possibly be appropriate?
“Aha, here it is!” she exclaimed, bringing out a dress that was wedged in among her costumes.
“Oh, it’s beautiful, Arielle. But, I can’t borrow one of your best dresses. Suppose I spill something and stain the material?”
“Who cares?” Arielle explained that the dress had been left by a passenger and never claimed.
“Besides, I’ve never had an occasion to wear such a formal gown. Now, try this on and let’s see if the dress needs any alterations before we have it pressed,” she insisted, handing her the dress.
Songs the Soldiers Sang Page 6