Defiant Hearts

by Janelle Taylor

  Jayce chuckled as he glanced at her and commented, “I believe one of your current guests mentioned that Friday night.”

  Laura laughed and nodded before she pointed out other structures to him. “Turn left onto Ninth and right onto Main; Main is where most of the foreign consulates are located.”

  “Are there many here and aiding the Confederacy? We surely need all the help we can get, especially weapons and supplies.”

  “The British were expelled years ago, but we still have France, Belgium, Sicily, Brazil, Austria, and Bremen, that I know about. There’s the Spotswood. You can leave the carriage at the front.”

  Jayce leapt down, secured the reins to a post, and walked to her side. “With the blockade in force, I wonder how ambassadors or diplomats get in and out of the South?” he said as he helped her from the carriage. “Or get word to and from their countries? If I were one of those men, I wouldn’t want to be doing or saying anything without permission from my government, especially since the North has ordered all countries to ignore and avoid the South.”

  She alleged, “I don’t know about such things, but it sounds logical to me. I overhear things some of my guests say, but I’ve found it’s best not to ask questions about certain topics and have someone wonder why I did.”

  “That’s smart, Laura, considering how jumpy Major Stevens was about spies the other night.”

  They were greeted by a uniformed doorman, calling a halt to that subject. After Jayce requested a table, the man directed them to a lovely dining room where they were seated and today’s menu was related.

  As they waited for their food, they chatted about books they had read or wanted to read and about their impending tour.

  Laura was the first to broach a personal topic when she asked, “What did you do before the war?”

  Jayce told her he had worked as a guide, trapped for furs, guarded wagontrains, delivered cattle from Texas, and enjoyed various other jobs. “I like being in the open, learning new things, and seeing lots of places. I guess you could say I get restless at times and have to stay on the move for a while. Some of the jobs I’ve had were dangerous, but most assuredly they were challenging and fulfilling. It’s amazing how much you can learn about life, another person, and yourself when your skills and wits are pushed hard. And you, how long have you lived in Richmond? Where was your home?”

  Laura realized he was not, as she had assumed, a man of few words when he had something to say or was with someone he…felt comfortable with or liked. She admired his self-confidence and genial manner. She selected her words with care. “My family worked land we owned near Fredericksburg; it’s about halfway between Richmond and Washington. Aunt Clarissa brought me here when the war started; she and Father didn’t think I would be safe at home alone. They were right; things did get perilous after I left that area.”

  “Was your aunt a widow? You haven’t mentioned an uncle or cousins.”

  “Aunt Clarissa never married, and I have no other kin. The only man she loved was…beyond her reach.” She saw Jayce nod as if he grasped her implied—but false—meaning: a married man. “Aunt Clarissa was a unique and special woman: unselfish, intelligent, spirited, brave. Almost everyone who met her admired and respected her.”

  Their meals were served: baked ham with a honey glaze, fried potato patties, scalloped fresh tomatoes, steaming biscuits with butter, and tea at room temperature and with an apology because no ice was available today. The waiter asked them to taste their foods to see if either wanted salt, as the precious item was not left on tables to be wasted with careless use. After they did so and none was required for seasoning, he smiled and left.

  Jayce leaned forward and inhaled the mixture of aromas. He smiled and said, “If it tastes as good as it smells, you made a good choice.”

  “I hope so. I’ve never dined here before, but I’ve heard it’s one of the best places in town. Rumors say that all of our important visitors either stay or eat here. Their bar is favored by the elite…or those who think they are.”

  Jayce chuckled and they settled into an easy silence as they ate their meals. She was radiant when she smiled, and her green eyes glowed with amusement. He was hard pressed to imagine why she wasn’t married or betrothed. He had no doubt she was a refined lady, but a hardworking one who was making the best of a trying situation. He was glad she was too smart and strong to allow herself to be taken care of by a man just to ease her burden. He wondered what she would think and how she would feel if she knew the truth about him and his reason for being in town. His guess was that she would despise and scorn him. It was wrong and cruel to mislead her, to—in a way—use her to obtain his own goal, but he couldn’t seem to ignore his defiant heart. He had never met a woman like her before. Somehow he knew their paths would never cross again if he didn’t take advantage of this unexpected event.

  Jayce hardly tasted the honeyed ham as he realized that even if she felt the same way he did, their relationship was doomed unless a miracle happened. Yet, his mother believed in miracles and coaxed him to do the same. He missed his parents, grandparents, two brothers, and sister and hoped they were safe and well during the problems near St. Louis, a town under the Union’s control. He was eager for the war to end so he could return home to his family and to his work for his father. But for now, he had more important work to do in Virginia. He didn’t tell Laura he had visited the bar yesterday which she just mentioned, having been told before his arrival that it was a place where officers, soldiers, businessmen, privateers, politicians, and nefarious types frequented. He had—

  “Do you ever get scared, Jayce; I mean, really scared?” Laura asked after sipping tepid tea to clear her mouth and throat.

  Jayce lowered the fork holding a piece of potato patty to his plate. The question was strange, but she appeared serious. “A man would be a fool if he wasn’t afraid at least part of the time. Fear keeps him alert, makes him cautious, and keeps him alive. I’ve seen young men—practically boys still green behind the ears—cry, shake, and empty their stomachs”—and bladders—“before, during, or after a fierce battle. You can’t let fear control you and your actions, but it’s wise to experience and respect it.”

  Laura dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, impressed and touched by his response. “Do you ever wonder if what you’re doing is wrong? What the South is doing is wrong?”

  Jayce noticed she was toying with her tomato as he reasoned with haste about her second odd query without grasping a motive. He didn’t know what she wanted—needed—him to reply, so he responded to her first question and let her think the answer was the same for both. “No, why?”

  As she sliced off a bite of ham, she said, “All I know is what I hear and read. Yet, just having soldiers and weapons visible, enduring the blockade, tending the injured, and having conversations filled with endless war stories, sometimes it seems unreal, like a bad dream or watching a tragic play from a distance. I keep thinking I’m only visiting Aunt Clarissa and she’s only away on an errand and will return soon. Then, something reminds me the war is all too real and destructive. It’s just that this conflict is so horrible and seems so endless.” So futile.

  “It’s good you don’t have to witness what’s happening beyond this city. I can understand why people want and need to pretend it doesn’t exist or won’t come near them. Both sides are determined to win, so I suppose it will go on until one of them obtains victory, or both give up and retreat, or peace is negotiated and the Union is restored.”

  “Are any of the North’s and South’s leaders trying to make peace, to work out our differences; or are they all only focused on winning?”

  “I don’t know,” Jayce said on a sad sigh, “but I hope somebody is working to end it. Too many good men are dying or suffering and too much destruction is being wreaked.”

  They ate and drank for a while, both in deep thought.

  Finally, Laura asked, “If the South loses, what will you do? Where will you go?”

  Are yo
u worried about me or just curious? “I’ll return to Missouri and live as I did before the war started. What about you?”

  “My existence won’t change unless the Yankees win and aren’t merciful.” Laura nibbled on her biscuit, then sipped some tea.

  “If that happens, just do as you’re told and you’ll be fine.”

  They finished their meals in silence, then their gazes met.

  Laura felt quivers and warmth race over her body. If she stared into those captivating blue eyes much longer, she realized, her wits would be lost. “Was it really awful in the Valley where you were fighting?”

  Jayce sensed she was seeking a distraction from the same problem he was experiencing, but he didn’t want to invent more lies about his alleged skirmishes and wound. “Yes, but let’s not talk about the war anymore. Let’s pretend it doesn’t exist for the rest of the day.”

  If war didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be in Richmond, you would be out West, we wouldn’t have met, and Miss Laura Adams wouldn’t be dining in private with a near-stranger and strugglingfutilely to resist his temptation.

  She struggled to avoid her distracting thoughts and find a neutral topic. “Sometimes the newspapers have stories about California and Arizona,” she said. “Have you been to either one?” He nodded. “Tell me about them.”

  Jayce began relating what he knew about them from past visits. He halted for only a few minutes when they were served dried apple pie with coffee.

  After they finished their desserts, Jayce insisted on paying for lunch. “I invited you out for the day, so I’ll take care of the check. Besides, not much at the battlefield calls for a soldier to spend his hard-earned pay and he can’t carry around months of it in his pockets.”

  Laura stood by the front door while he paid at the desk. As he did so, her furtive gaze roamed his tall and virile physique. Lieutenant Jayce Storm had an abundance of everything she could imagine wanting or needing in a man. She liked the length, color, and style of his collar-grazing ebony hair. She liked the shape of his face and size of his features, down to the cleft in his chin and shade of his tan. But it was his sapphire gaze and sensuous smile which enticed, excited, and ensnared her. His physical appeal when mingled with his personality and character created an enchanting and tantalizing allure, a potent force besieging her.

  Jayce, his instincts keen and well-trained, sensed Laura’s scrutiny of him. He looked forward to the remainder of their afternoon together, but it was difficult to concentrate on his reconnaissance mission. He was skilled at scouting places and assessing situations, but he never stayed in an area long enough for his presence to become suspicious. In this case, he almost resented his shortage of time because of the beauty watching him and the inexplicable urge to get to know her better. He hated the thought of using her to make his study of Richmond appear harmless, but it was too late to change directions and too much was at stake not to follow through on his orders. Whatever happened between them this afternoon or in the future remained to be seen…

  Chapter Five

  Jayce joined Laura, and they returned to her carriage. He helped her aboard and asked, “Which way?”

  “Head down Main and I’ll show you that area first.”

  Jayce guided the horse down the street, crossed a stone bridge over Shockoe Creek, went down Twenty-first, and turned right onto Cary. He observed as she pointed out the prisons, and told him about Rockett’s Landing for Confederate boats on the James River, a sugar refinery, the Navy yards, and Chimborazo Hill and hospital. When he noticed guards at a particular site, he asked about it.

  “Those are the city’s gas storage tanks,” she explained. “The gas works is farther down. They have to be protected against Yankee sabotage because a big explosion would cripple this vital area and do massive damage to the town; it would make us vulnerable to attack and conquest.”

  Jayce nodded toward several structures nearby with bars over their windows. “I doubt the Union would make such an attempt with so many Yankee prisoners bound to be killed or maimed in such a large blast.”

  To make certain her companion didn’t doubt her alleged loyalty to the South, she said, “The way rumors claim that General Grant sacrifices his troops’ lives with such ease and frequency, I wonder if he might not think their loss for the infamous Cause would be worth seizing an opportunity to disable and capture Richmond, capital of the Confederacy, and one of its leading arms-makers and largest suppliers of our soldiers’ needs.”

  Jayce wanted to convince her she was wrong, but he must not defend Grant or the Union and create suspicions about himself. He shrugged and murmured, “You could be right; I’ll admit I don’t know much about Grant or his strategy. I suppose I’ll learn all about him after I reach Petersburg.”

  My handsome opponent, I hope you never get close enough to carry out that task, Laura thought in distress.

  They passed the enormous Custom House, large and small private residences, banks, hotels, hospitals in homes and warehouses, newspaper offices, and assorted stores. They saw cotton and tobacco factories and warehouses—many being used as hospitals—and a burned-out coffee factory.

  Laura told him how some people made “coffee” from parched sweet potatoes or dried corn, and “tea” from blackberry leaves or herbs. She said Richmond was one of the major flour producers and the largest tobacco manufacturer in the world. “Of course, the blockade is hindering or halting imports, and wheat and corn crops are being ravaged by the enemy, so I fear our economy will be destroyed before peace comes. I’m sure you saw the damage Sheridan and his malicious kind are doing in the Valley.”

  “I hope our economy isn’t ruined before the war can end or General Early can drive or decoy him out of the Shenandoah, or recovery will take a long time and countless innocents will suffer from poverty and hunger.”

  “That’s already occurring in too many places,” Laura pointed out, “but the fighting goes on. I don’t understand how some of our invaders can be so barbaric to women, children, and elders.”

  “Things are done and said during war which can never be explained or accepted by rival forces. Some men become consumed by a craving for revenge, others by a hunger to display their temporary power, and others by a yearning to help obtain peace in the only ways left open to them.”

  Laura hoped the last portion pertained to him, as it surely did to her. She pushed angry thoughts of Sheridan and Butler from her mind, as other Union loyalists, like her family and Lincoln, were good men.

  At Shockoe Slip, she related that Kanawha Canal bypassed the James River rapids so boats could travel westward beyond town. At its basin, there were foundries, ironworks, flour and paper mills, and other businesses. As they headed down Seventh Street toward the river, she told him that many of the artillery workshops, an arsenal, ordnance shops, and ammunition makers were located on streets nearby. She told him to halt so he could look on the other side of the rapid water.

  “That’s Manchester; it has much the same as this area. It could also be a Union target because five forts are positioned there, though they’re manned and armed. They protect our southern side and railroads, and guard Belle Isle against prisoner escapes. If the Yankees conquered Petersburg and Manchester, they would sever two of our vital rail lines and imperil river trade from the western section of the state. If they reached Manchester, they could shell the city and Navy yards easily from there. If that happens, the cannons lining the riverbank on our side couldn’t do much to prevent them from attacking and undoubtedly razing this beautiful city. We have other forts encircling the town: also, two lines of defensive earthworks encompassing Richmond.”

  Jayce saw bridges for the Richmond & Petersburg and Richmond & Danville railroads. He was amazed to be making so many crucial discoveries, but he hoped Laura’s town wouldn’t be attacked. Her home and business were so close to the river and to Manchester: both were within easy range of artillery on the other bank. Even so, he couldn’t refuse to file his scouting report; even if he did, it w
ouldn’t accomplish anything, as his superior in Washington would send another agent to succeed where he had failed. To him, cowardice, selfishness, treachery, and failure were bitter things he didn’t want to experience. “I’m glad Richmond is well guarded; we don’t want to lose her, and I don’t want to lose my new friends here. If the Yankees should reach Manchester, Laura, get as far away from the city as fast as possible.”

  “I couldn’t leave my home and business or they would be looted and probably burned. If I’m forced to cower to those nefarious invaders to save all I own, I will. Besides, I doubt there is any place I could go where I’d be safer, and I’d have no way to support myself or those who depend on me.”

  Jayce looked at her, the parasol tilted toward her right shoulder to ward off the sunshine. “You’re a mighty brave and kind-hearted and smart woman, Laura Carlisle; and I surely do enjoy your company.” She only glanced at him for a moment to thank him, but her dark-green gaze was sparkly, and a soft smile tugged at her enticing lips.

  As Laura showed him more of the area, Jayce was forced to concentrate on work and he collected every fact she exposed about Belle Isle—the largest prison camp in Confederacy existence—where enlisted soldiers were held captive, and about Brown Island where the Confederate States Laboratory—the “Powder Works”—was situated.

  “Ammunition is made there,” she started her explanation. “Mostly females of all ages do the work. In ’63, there was a huge explosion that shook the town; many were killed and injured. Even so, they have no problem getting workers for the Cause. The Richmond Armory and Arsenal are located on Byrd Island; a majority of ordnance materials for the entire Confederate Army comes from there.”

  As they passed the multi-storied and long Tredegar Ironworks, Jayce studied it closely as it would be a major Union target if it could be reached by enough men. The area consisted of thirty-two fenced-in acres. Light and heavy artillery, the first “Brook” gun, mortars—perhaps, as rumor claimed, the first fired at Fort Sumter to begin the war—were made there, including one type of field gun that only was made there. He was surprised to learn that over half of the jobs were held by blacks, men making weapons to help defeat the force attempting to free them. Its rolling mills also straightened rails twisted by Yankee troops so they could be used again. In addition, it produced armor plating for mortar trains. Yes, he mentally agreed with his superior, Tredegar was the most important weapons producer for the Confederacy, and Richmond’s loss would be a lethal blow to the South.