The girl ducked her head and snickered. But Lottie was hardly a girl anymore. Past the awkward stage of early adolescence, she had grown in both confidence and beauty. And the absentmindedness that once marked her had morphed into diligence.
“Miss Emily, I been wonderin’ ’bout Sarah,” she said, tossing a peach pit in the waste bucket. “We ain’t heard nothin’ after news come dat you died.”
Emily cringed again at the falsehood. “You want the whole story?” she asked. “It’s a long one.”
Lottie spread her arms at the bushels of peaches. “I got time.”
It was a tale Emily had become rather accomplished at telling.
As the morning passed and the kitchen grew fragrant with simmering fruit, the heat became intolerable. Eventually, Emily set aside her knife and worked its shape from her fingers. “I’m sorry, Josephine. I need a turn around the yard. I don’t feel very well.”
Josephine studied her critically. “You ill?”
“Mostly tired.”
“You been sleepin’ a lot.”
“I know.”
“But yo’ stomach ain’t queasy?”
“No. Well, maybe a little from the heat.”
“What about firs’ thing in de mornin’?”
“N—” Emily faltered as she realized what Josephine was suggesting. “No.”
“Well, some women don’ get ill. When be yo’ last blood?”
Fog seemed to creep inside Emily’s ears, dampening sound and thickening her thoughts. “I—I’m not sure.”
Josephine cut her a sidelong look. “I think you best be talkin’ to Dr. Wainwright.”
Emily barely registered Lottie’s look of hopeful excitement. Prickly heat washed up the back of her neck. She staggered outside to the well pump and rinsed her hands in a state of bewilderment. Could it be true? Could she be carrying Jovie’s baby? She pressed wet fingers to her abdomen, leaving a net of interlacing marks. Was she ready for it to be true?
Bending down, she splashed water over her face and neck. The air wasn’t much cooler outside, but the difference would be more noticeable in the shade. She’d walk a few minutes in the woods before returning.
She wandered in the direction of the overseer’s house. What would Jovie say? Should she tell him right away or wait for the doctor to confirm Josephine’s suspicions? He had so much on his mind already. The news of the fire came just before they were to leave for Baltimore. Now the care of Ella Wood caused another unexpected delay. She knew he was eager to begin school, but he’d postponed his plans without hesitation or complaint. And she loved him for it. But how would a baby figure in the mix?
She skirted the nearly vacant slave village, staying along the edge of the shade, and crossed the path that led to Fairview. Without permission, her mind started jumping ahead. She’d helped with Larkin’s birth, and with Elsie’s. More recently, she’d cared for her tiny cousin Alma and little Eden. What would it be like to hold a baby of her own? The thought caused a pleasant flutter somewhere between her ribs.
She clamped down on the daydream. The pregnancy was pure speculation. Tomorrow she’d hitch up the buggy and visit Dr. Wainwright. Only then would she tell Jovie or let her emotions run wild.
As she turned back for the kitchen, she heard a twig break in the woods. The hair on the back of her neck rose. “Jovie?” she asked hopefully. But Jovie was helping with the corn harvest in one of the back fields.
“So, Jovie’s back from the dead too, is he?”
Her blood ran cold. She turned to face Thad, her fear well-masked with anger. “What are you doing here?”
“I just heard you were back in the area.” He smiled. “I thought I’d pay a neighborly visit.”
“Get off my property,” she hissed.
“Very well.” His smile turned cold and venomous. “But you’re coming with me.”
Grabbing her by the arm, he began dragging her down the path to Fairview. Icy fingers of dread sifted her insides. She didn’t know what Thad had planned, but she was certain it wasn’t tea. And apart from her wits, she had no way to defend herself. Jovie always insisted that she take the gun when work called him away. She had. It was sitting on the kitchen worktable that very moment.
Maybe someone was close enough to hear her. She took a breath. Thad jammed the barrel of a pistol in her neck. “You scream. I shoot.”
She knew he would.
A downed branch tangled her feet and sent her sprawling. She feigned injury, rising slowly, playing for time. “When did you find out I’d returned?” Everyone who remained at Ella Wood had been sworn to secrecy.
“The day you arrived. I’d been watching for you. In fact, I’d expected you far sooner.”
“But how did you know…?”
“That you’re alive?” He shot her a look of scorn. “What other ‘pretty young lady’ in Baltimore would know my given name?”
He grabbed her arm and marched her in front of him.
“After that fiasco in Detroit, I decided to draw you here on your own. If Ella Wood burned, I knew you’d come home eventually. I’ve just been biding my time.”
Her eyes widened. She whirled, shaking off his hand. “You set fire to Ella Wood?”
He smirked. “Do you really think I’d dirty my own hands?”
“Then who? Herod?”
“Let’s just say Herod has been…useful.” He chuckled. “He has no affection for you, my dear. None whatsoever.”
He gave her another shove and she stumbled forward.
“What are you going to do, kill me?” she asked with false bravado. “Jovie will see you hung for it.”
“Nothing like that, my dear. Murder is downright distasteful when the heat of passion has waned. There isn’t nearly enough pleasure in it.” He forced her past the house and into the vacant stable. “Instead, I’ve decided to give you a gift you can live with and remember.”
Her fear escalated into terror as his hints worked themselves out. “No, Thad. Stop…”
He shoved her into an empty box stall. She landed hard enough to knock the pins from her hair. He followed her in, casually unbuttoning the fly of his trousers.
Horror pushed her to the brink of panic. Her first thought was for the baby. “Thad, don’t do this. I promise, I’ll do anything you want. But not this.”
“You’ve cost me a great deal of money and effort. I’ve decided it’s high time I finally got a return on my investment.” He smirked. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see if you’re as good as your maid.”
She scrambled backward until she pressed against the wooden partition. There she cowered, pulling herself into a protective ball. Thad’s eyes were thin slits, his mouth a hard swipe across his face. He swaggered closer. She waited…waited until he stood directly before her, then kicked out with both feet. The blow caught him full in the kneecap.
Thad went down, screaming a string of profanity.
Emily kicked his pistol away and scrambled for the door.
Her feet caught in her voluminous skirt. She toppled forward, and Thad caught the hem. “Little wench,” he seethed, his face distorted with pain. “You will regret that.” Gritting his teeth, he dragged her steadily toward him.
She lashed out, managing to land a kick on his jaw, but his sheer strength soon overpowered her. He laid across her legs, pinning them down, preventing a collision with his injured knee. As she struck out with her hands, he drew back an arm and punched her full in the face. Her vision exploded in a burst of pain and light.
The blow stunned her into submission. From far away, she could feel him under her skirt, tearing away her knickers. He dragged himself on top of her, his hot breath stinging her face. “Maybe you’ll get lucky, and you and your precious Lizzie can raise half-siblings.”
Emily closed her eyes against the humiliation she knew was coming.
A dull thud sounded, accompanied by a sharp cry of pain. Thad’s weight toppled to one side. Then a shot rang out, echoing in the close confines of t
he building and jerking her back to full consciousness.
Blood pooled beside her, expanding in an ever-widening circle. Emily scrabbled away in revulsion and slammed into a pair of dun-colored trousers. Her eyes followed them upward.
Herod stood above her, his face a furnace of anger and Thad’s smoking pistol in his hand.
She cringed instinctively, waiting for him to train the gun on her. If anyone hated her as much as Thad, it was Herod.
But no shot came. No one moved. The stable lay as still as a graveyard.
She risked a peek upward.
Herod had lowered the pistol and was staring at Thad’s crumpled body.
Emily’s mind raced. Herod had worked for Thad. Had done his bidding. What had transpired between them?
He turned dead eyes in her direction.
She scooted backward. “Why?”
“Dat be fo’ Lizzie,” he mumbled.
She rose unsteadily to her feet and wiped at the blood dripping from her nose. “You never knew?”
He shook his head. “You tol’ me de child wasn’t Ketch’s, but I didn’t believe you.” He looked at the ground, the muscles in his jaw strained. “Maybe I made up my mind not to.”
“Drop the gun, Herod.”
Jovie stood in the stable doorway with the revolver held steady in his hand. Lottie’s wide eyes peered around the corner behind him.
“Drop it. I’ve killed a hundred men better than you. Putting a bullet in your hide would be a pleasure.”
The spent pistol hit the floor with a clatter of metal.
Emily pushed past Herod and rushed into her husband’s outstretched arm.
“You all right?” he asked, his eyes focused unwaveringly on Herod.
She nodded.
“Ada saw Thad drag you away. She raised the alarm as we were returning for lunch.”
Herod still stood slumped in the center of the stall.
Emily felt a sudden rush of pity. Herod was hateful and vengeful. His conniving had done untold damage. He may have set fire to Ella Wood. And he’d just murdered Thad in cold blood. But he was also a fiercely independent spirit who’d fought for his freedom in the only way he’d known how. Had their positions been reversed, would she have done any differently?
And he’d just saved her from a horrendous assault.
“Go, Herod,” she said. “Leave Ella Wood and never come back.”
Herod’s eyes flickered nervously between her and the revolver.
Jovie gave his wife a long, searching look. When she nodded, certain of her decision, he lowered the muzzle to the floor. “You heard her. Get out of here.”
With a final glance at Emily, Herod skulked from the stable.
Jovie brushed back Emily’s hair and fingered the bruise on her cheek. “Is this the worst Thad did to you?”
She nodded.
He kissed her forehead and tucked her close against his body.
From the safety of her husband’s arms, Emily watched Herod flee into the woods. He was the last slave she would hold in her possession.
The last one she would ever set free.
Epilogue
Baltimore
October 1866
“Emily, I’m here! Where are you?”
The call came from the apartment’s front door. Emily finished drying the last plate and returned it to the shelf with the others. “I’m in the kitchen!” she called, hanging her towel on a hook by the stove. She’d toss the dishwater out later.
Missouri burst through the door. “Where is that little sweetie?” Her eyes latched onto the baby, who was happily pounding the floor with a wooden spoon, and gasped. “She’s sitting up!”
Emily smiled. “For a week already.”
“Margaret Elizabeth, you are growing up far too fast!” Missouri scooped the child into her arms.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get away,” she continued, sinking into one of the hard-backed chairs and plunking the baby on her lap. “Sometimes your mother, bless her heart, forgets I have more to do than drink tea and keep her company.”
Marie had followed her daughter to Baltimore. Soon after meeting Missouri, she had provided the financial backing needed to purchase Missouri’s boardinghouse—the sale arranged with Daniel’s influence—and the two of them had turned it into a fashionable residence for upscale widows. Marie wasn’t much help with housekeeping, but she was the soul of their social activities.
“At least Lottie earns her keep,” Emily said.
“I don’t know what I’d do without—yeow!” Missouri shrieked, untangling a lock of her hair from Margaret’s grasping fingers. “Here, take the spoon instead.”
The baby promptly hit her in the nose.
Missouri grimaced wryly. “I can tell we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.”
“Just consider it practice.” Emily smirked.
“Now just a minute, Emily Preston. Don’t you go marrying me off to that man!”
Emily laughed. The sale of the boardinghouse had renewed Daniel and Missouri’s acquaintance. While they hadn’t made any long-term plans, they saw each other regularly. They were frequent—and lively—dinner guests in Emily and Jovie’s apartment.
The sale had also landed Emily unexpected employment. Daniel’s nephew had returned from the army and assumed his role as assistant photographer, but when Daniel asked Emily to take on his finishing work, she readily agreed. Most of the inking and painting were accomplished right at her own kitchen table.
Jovie appeared in the doorway with Emily’s shawl. “What’s this I hear about Missouri getting married?”
Emily laughed as her friend spluttered an incoherent reply.
Jovie draped the wrap over Emily’s shoulders. Then he picked up Margaret and planted a kiss on her chubby cheek. “Be a good girl for Aunt Missouri.”
Missouri reclaimed the baby and walked them to the front door. “Have a good time.”
With a wave, Emily took Jovie’s arm and they started the short walk to the Maryland Institute.
Jovie’s stride gave only the slightest indication of his prosthesis. He was straight, tall, and handsome. Emily sneaked an appreciative peek.
He caught her eye. “I’ve reached a decision about Fairview.”
A friend on the probate court had recently contacted Jovie, kindly allowing him the first opportunity to purchase the property. “And?”
“I’ve decided not to buy. That’s just not where our future lies. Malachi’s all but convinced me to study in Ann Arbor, so it will be several years before we even return. And then how much good would it do to set up practice on a plantation? We’ll have to go where we’re needed.”
Emily squeezed his arm encouragingly. “I think Jeremiah and Sarah have plenty to do just managing one property.”
Before Marie moved North, she’d sold off her outlying properties to Northern carpetbaggers and set aside a significant portion for the maintenance of Ella Wood. With Zeke and Jovie’s help, and with some legal assistance from Mr. Vitler, Emily had allotted a small sum to each of their remaining people and divided the vast fields into parcels. Zeke—his work finally done—had retired to Uncle Timothy’s estate, and Jeremiah and Sarah, who held half-shares in the plantation, had agreed to take up residence and oversee the transition. At the moment, farming was all their tenants knew to do, but Jeremiah was determined to change that, too.
“Jeremiah said he’s setting up a school like the one he attended in the army, with the literate teaching the illiterate,” Emily told Jovie, smiling to herself. “Apparently, quite a few of our people already knew how to read.”
He chuckled and slung an arm around her shoulder.
She looked up at him with affection. “Thank you, Jovie.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For being the kindest, most compassionate man in Charleston County.”
He shrugged. “I only did what Jack would have done.”
“And for being the most aggravatingly persistent bea
u and best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t think you can possibly know how much I love you.”
He pulled her to a stop, and that slow smile crept over his face. “Say it again.”
Her heart was full. The war was over, the last blood spilt, and together they were embarking on a brand-new start. There in the gathering twilight, she wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and put her soul into the embrace. “I love you, Jovie Cutler.”
He grinned down at her with that green fire burning behind his eyes, and he kissed her.
Happiness poured into her, splashing all the way down to her toes. Baltimore, Detroit, Charleston…it didn’t matter where they landed. America was one again. The future was bright; the future was theirs.
The tide had changed at last.
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Historical Notes
As always, I’d like to take a few pages to sort out fact from fiction and include some of the fascinating details I’ve encountered in my research. Many of the historical people, places, and images featured in the book can be viewed on my Pinterest page. I did my best to portray an accurate glimpse of this time period. If inaccuracies are found, I accept full responsibility.
On the date Ebb Tide opens (August 22, 1863), three simultaneous bombardments were occurring in Charleston harbor: Battery Wagner (Second Battle: July 18-Sept 7), Fort Sumter (Aug. 17-23), and Charleston (Aug. 22-23). The bombing of the city marked the first time the American military specifically targeted a civilian population.
Black regiments were first formed in May 1862. Fearing backlash from border states, Lincoln quickly disbanded them, but Congress granted approval by the turn of the year. The First Battle of Battery Wagner (July 11, 1863), immortalized by the movie Glory, was one of the first major engagements by Colored troops. The soldiers on trial in Charleston were captured during this battle. To secure their safety, Lincoln issued a proclamation on July 30, 1863 declaring that Black soldiers were covered by General Order 100 which stated that “for every soldier of the United States killed in violation of the laws of war a Rebel soldier shall be executed and for every one enslaved by the enemy or sold into slavery, a Rebel shall be placed at hard labor…” The trial was faithfully portrayed. It did bring a halt to the prisoner exchange system.
Ebb Tide (Ella Wood Book 3) Page 33