Impending Love and Madness

by Laura Freeman

  Members of the cavalry, artillery, and infantry wearing badges of mourning on their left arms escorted the president’s body to the steady beat of muffled drums. Footsteps echoed on the cobblestones in a slow, solemn walk to the newly renovated Capitol.

  Jake pointed at the horses and men as they passed. “Parade!”

  “It’s for President Lincoln,” Cass said. A hollow spot couldn’t be filled as the magnitude of the loss struck her. She had only seen him from a distance, but he had been the leader of the country, a symbol of hope. Now the future was full of uncertainty.

  The procession included newly sworn-in President Andrew Johnson, senators, congressmen, and wounded veterans.

  The funeral car was large with the base high enough above the ground for the people lining the street to see the coffin placed below a canopy. Six gray horses, each one with a groom, pulled the car.

  Morgan snapped his heels and stood at attention, his hand saluting the fallen leader. Zach and Sid followed his action. Jake looked at the men and raised his small hand to the brim of his baby bonnet in a salute as the coffin passed.

  The rest of the parade was a blur through tears. Cass clung to Zach’s arm, her sobs muffled by her soaked handkerchief. With Lee’s surrender, hope for a normal future had seemed imminent, but now a shadow passed over the dreams for tomorrow. Morgan was reunited with Jess, but what if there was retribution for serving in the Confederacy? The Ohio boys were heading home, but what if their journey was delayed because of Booth’s crime? And most importantly, Lincoln’s work of reconciliation had yet to begin, and many doubted if Johnson had the ability to lead the country toward a peaceful union as fractures gaped wider with distrust and suspicion in the wake of the conspiracy.

  “We better go inside,” Jem suggested as the street filled with civilians. They retired to the dining room where the women served sandwiches, fruit, and raw vegetables.

  Cass poured iced tea. “What happens next?”

  “The president will lie in state at the Capitol until Friday, and then Lincoln and Willie’s bodies will be transported by train to Springfield, Illinois,” Logan said. “The route will be the same one he took when he arrived in Washington City.”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone.” Zach slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. “We chose him as our leader, and no one had the right to end his life so violently.”

  “They’ll catch Booth and the rest of his gang,” Sid said.

  Logan shared several papers. Copies of the images of the wanted men had been in the newspapers and on posters nailed to buildings throughout the area. “General Grant is helping Secretary Stanton track him down. They’re offering a hundred-thousand-dollar reward.”

  Zach showed Cass one of the newspapers. Lewis Powell, who violently attacked Seward and the others at his home, was arrested at the Surratt house on April 17 along with the owner of the boarding house, Mary Surratt.

  Cass reread the last paragraph. “A woman helped Booth?”

  “They’re arresting anyone connected to the conspiracy,” Logan said. “I’m sure the truth will come out in the trial.”

  The next day as thousands of people solemnly walked through the Capitol’s Rotunda to view Lincoln’s body in an open coffin, the newspapers printed the news that George Atzerodt, who had been assigned to kill Johnson, was arrested.

  The same day the train pulled out of the station for the long journey to Springfield, Illinois, with the bodies of Lincoln and his son, news arrived that Confederate General Joe Johnston had surrendered to General William Sherman. A celebration on the tail of the president’s funeral was difficult to comprehend, but for Blake and the Ohio boys, the war was over. Relief and joy filled the empty void that had followed in the days after Lincoln’s assassination.

  Cass and her family gathered in the large parlor at Mermaid’s Mirth to have a quiet toast to Blake, Harry Herbruck, and Ethan Donovan’s homecoming.

  Zach threatened to throw his crutch away. “I don’t want Harry and Ethan to see me limping around.”

  “You walk on your leg too early, and it may not heal correctly,” Cass warned. “Give it one more week before you put weight on it. Then you can start slowly regaining strength in it.”

  “Well, when they march into Washington City, I plan to march beside them,” Zach said.

  “Papa is coming home,” Cole explained as she hugged Jake.

  “Papa?” he repeated.

  “The last time Blake saw him, Jake was six months old,” Cole said. “They barely had any time to bond.”

  Morgan looked at his son cradled in the crook of his arm. “Blake won’t waste any time getting to know him.”

  Jess leaned against Morgan on the sofa and stared at the life they had created. They had been man and wife for one day before the war parted them. Morgan doted on his wife and son. Jess was recovering quickly from childbirth, and with Tootie’s help, they had combined their efforts to restore Morgan’s health.

  Cass offered a clean diaper to Jess when the baby spit up. “Have you settled on a name?”

  Morgan and Jess shared a smile, a secret between them. “Jess wanted to name him Jackson Morgan Mackinnon but we changed it to Jackson Lincoln Mackinnon.”

  “Jackson,” Zach repeated as he sat across from them with his broken leg perched on a stool. “Little Stonewall. Only had to face your general once. At Chancellorsville.”

  “Can’t blame the Yanks for his death.” Morgan frowned. “I fought under his command for nearly three years. We missed him at Gettysburg.”

  “I was glad he wasn’t there,” Zach said. “We had a tough time as it was. And I wouldn’t mention Gettysburg to Harry Herbruck when he arrives. His brother was killed in that battle.”

  “Ed Herbruck.” Morgan kissed his wife. “Jess shared the news about Ed being shot at Culp’s Hill. I won’t broach the subject.”

  Jake pressed against Morgan’s leg and pointed at Jackson. “My baby.”

  “Cousin to you,” Morgan corrected. “Do you want to hold him?”

  “No!” the women echoed in unison.

  Morgan laughed. “You don’t trust your little angel?”

  “Do you?” Cole asked.

  He pulled Jake onto his lap but far enough away from Jackson to protect his son. “Have you written Blake that I’m part of the family?”

  “No,” Cole said. “I wasn’t sure how to explain your presence in Washington City nine months ago.”

  Morgan looked at Jackson. “We’re not getting rid of the evidence.”

  ****

  The news that the Army of Tennessee formally surrendered April 26 in Greensboro, North Carolina, was overshadowed by reports John Wilkes Booth had been shot and killed in a barn in Bowling Green, Virginia. Some people were angry he had died so quickly. They had wanted a trial and justice for the murder of the president.

  The next day the steamship Sultana, which had been overloaded with nearly two-thousand paroled Union prisoners of war at Vicksburg, sank near Memphis. The boilers exploded, destroying the pilothouse and a large section of the boat. Flames engulfed the wooden structure. About seven hundred survived. The rest were killed in the blast, burned by the fires, or drowned in the cold swollen Mississippi River. Many were boys from Ohio.

  Jem marked the names listed in the newspaper that were familiar.

  Cass sat beside her on the sofa in the parlor. “Why is this happening? The war is over, and men keep dying.”

  Tears splattered the page. “It was an accident,” Jem said. “A horrible, senseless accident.”

  “The boat was overloaded,” Cass said. “Those men survived Andersonville and Cahaba prisons. They earned a safe passage home. Someone is to blame.”

  “I’m sure there will be an investigation,” Jem said.

  “Investigations, trials, and executions,” Cass said. “When the war began, abolitionists wanted to abolish slavery. It was a noble idea. How could it result in the death of so many?”

  Jem spat in her ker
chief and wiped the ink on her fingertips left by the newsprint. “Logan blames the politicians. If they had done their job, if they had abolished slavery, there wouldn’t have been the need for a war.”

  “Then why didn’t they?”

  “Avarice.” Jem’s voice was bitter. “We live in a capitalistic society where wealth is admired, and the sins of greed are overlooked.”

  Cass pulled away and studied her sister. “When did you become a cynic, Jem?”

  “Logan has not spared me from the stories of bribery and corruption.” She crumpled the paper in her fists. “Perhaps I’ve lived in Washington City too long.”

  The Pierce family had worked in politics for generations. “Would Logan leave?”

  “We’ve talked about returning to Ohio since Chauncy was born, but these tragedies have convinced me we have to move. I’ve barely seen Logan since Lincoln’s death, and when he returns home, he’s exhausted.” Jem took her hand. “I never valued an ordinary life until now.”

  Ordinary life. How long would it take for life to return to normal? “My life had no impact on Lincoln’s death or the war,” Cass said. “But they are a big part of mine now. It makes me appreciate Darrow Falls more.”

  “Do you want to go home?”

  “No.” She meant it. She wanted to see the soldiers return. She wanted to celebrate their victory. It would help make sense of the tragedies.

  “Is Zach one of the reasons?”

  Zach? “I haven’t spent time alone with him since Lincoln’s death.” Cass pointed at the newspaper. “As soon as something good happens, the headlines announce another awful event. How can we enjoy each other’s company in the midst of bad news?”

  “Aren’t you the Beecher sister who rode a horse to fetch Papa to save Blake’s life?” Jem smoothed the wrinkles in the paper. “Cole told me how brave you were. Life can overwhelm you if you think about all the hardships at once. Take one problem at a time. Figure out what you can do to make life better, and then find the strength and courage to do it.”

  She’d been too ignorant of the dangers on her ride to fetch her father to be afraid. “I couldn’t let Blake die.” She sighed. “I wish I could have done something to help President Lincoln.”

  “No one could. The theater was John Wilkes Booth’s home territory. No one was alarmed by his figure in the balcony making his way to the presidential box. Logan said he drilled a hole in the back of the wall so he could peer inside. He timed his assault for when the audience would laugh. He had a boy holding his horse at the back door. Booth planned the details to the minute, giving him the advantage.”

  “Zach says soldiers blame fate when one of their friends dies. The bullet had his name on it. He was meant to be killed. But he keeps wondering what if?”

  “What if Lincoln had lived? What if Lincoln was leading the nation instead of Johnson? For better or worse, we prepare for whatever life presents us,” Jem said.

  “I’ve always been a spectator,” Cass said. “I tend to watch people and life unfolding as if it’s a play. I was distant but fascinated by what was occurring, but I never participated. But I think I need to be a player instead.”

  “You want to be an actress?”

  Cass laughed at her confusion. “No. I mean a player in life. I need to figure out how I can contribute to society. I have to decide what is important to me and pursue it.”

  “Is Zach Ravenswood part of your future?”

  “I don’t know.” Cass stood and paced across the wooden floor. “There hasn’t been time for romance or talk about any future together with all the tragedy.”

  “You can’t let the evil of the world prevent your chance at happiness,” Jem said. “I almost missed my opportunity to be with Logan. My world would be dark without him. Find the time to spend with Zach.”

  “You’re my chaperone. Aren’t you supposed to keep us apart?”

  “I’m a romantic, little sister. And I’ve seen how you watch him when you don’t think he’s looking.”

  “It doesn’t matter how I feel if he doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “Then find out if he’s a friend, foe, or future husband.”

  Chapter Five

  On the first day of May, Zach’s splint was removed. His leg was weak, but he began walking on it to build strength in his mended limb. His walks took him to Pierce House where he asked Cass to join him in his recovery. They had shared the tragedy of Lincoln’s death, but guilt about enjoying life had prevented any romantic gestures in the aftermath. Now dark times had passed, and spring was in full bloom. His regiment would arrive soon, and he needed to declare his feelings before his life would be commanded by orders and military duties, before he would return home and have little time to call upon her.

  They walked toward the Capitol to view the finished work on the dome and additions. The city had matured in four years, its accomplishments tempered by its tragedies. The Capitol symbolized a great country, but with Southern states returning to its chambers, would they work together or strive to tear the fragile fabric of unity Lincoln had created?

  They climbed the steps and turned to view the rest of the city. Cass took a deep breath. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

  Zach had a different vision. “If you overlook the tents, wagons, mud and…”

  Cass laid her hand on his arm. “Ethan wrote me. They plan to arrive soon.”

  “Harry wrote me,” Zach said. “He’s looking forward to arriving in Washington City and rescuing you from my boring company.”

  Cass laughed, a strange sound after weeks of tears. “He was teasing.”

  Zach frowned. Harry was a rival. The Beecher sisters grew up with the Herbruck brothers in Darrow Falls. Jess had nearly married Ed Herbruck. When they returned home, Harry would be able to call on Cass daily. Zach’s home of Ravenswood was in the next county. Zach would be lucky to call on Sundays once a month. He needed to declare his intentions and soon.

  But if she rejected him, he wouldn’t have a second chance. Cass was young. Was it too early for her to consider marriage? What if she had higher ambitions than what he could offer? The Beecher sisters had married successful men. Cory had married Tyler, who was a lawyer, Logan worked for the Treasury Department, and Blake owned three hotels. Morgan had no job, but he had graduated from West Point and was talking about building bridges and roads. He had sold the family store during the war, and Jess had saved the gold and silver for their future.

  Zach had dropped out of Western Reserve College. He could return, but would Cass wait for three years? And what would a college education benefit him if he took over the family farm to raise horses? Zach didn’t know what his future would hold, but of one thing he was certain. He wanted Cass to be a part of it.

  What if Cass didn’t reciprocate his feelings? When they arrived at Pierce House, he accepted her invitation for tea and pie. Jem was busy giving a lesson to Logan’s ten-year-old niece, Deidre, at the dining room table. Chauncy was taking her afternoon nap. They would be alone in the parlor.

  The room overlooked the street, and they sat on the sofa facing the open window. A warm breeze fluttered the lace curtains. Outside, horses’ hooves smacked the cobblestones, and drivers shouted to clear a path in the crowded avenue.

  “What will you do after you muster out?” Cass bit into the flaky pie crust. Blueberry filling stained her bottom lip.

  “My grandfather expects me to help run the farm. We talked about it when I was on furlough last year. I wrote him I was ready to take on the responsibilities.”

  Her brows knit in a frown. “I didn’t think you liked your grandfather.”

  “He’s the only family I have left. He didn’t like the fact I dropped out of college to join the army, but when he saw me in my uniform and I shared my battle experiences, he was proud of my choices. We had long talks about Ravenswood.” He reached with his napkin and wiped the extra blueberry from her mouth.

  She put her pie plate on the serving tray. “I must look a mess.”


  “Not at all.” He put his empty plate next to hers. It was now or never. He leaned forward. She didn’t scream. He moved closer, her mouth his target. His lips brushed hers. She tasted of blueberries. Delicious. What did he do with his hands? He gripped her shoulders and lowered her against the soft cushion on the sofa. Would she be repulsed and demand an apology? Her mouth sought his, and her hand caressed his neck. Her touch sent shivers through his body.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed her again, teasing her mouth with his tongue, parting her moist lips and gaining entry. Her body molded to his, soft and compliant. The blood rushed to parts of his body he never used in battle, and he fought hard to control a mounting desire. He pressed her limp body against the sofa.

  A stiff corset formed a thick barrier, and the crinoline beneath her bell-shaped skirt crunched beneath his weight. A primal groan escaped his lips. No dream ever matched the building tension within, seeking release. He paused and opened his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing matched the rapid pace of his own. A loose strand of hair crossed the feather arch of her eyebrow, and he blew against her face to sweep it away. She opened her eyes, confused by his hesitation. She returned his smile, and he pressed forward, bruising her lips with his own.

  “Stop canoodling,” Cole shouted as she walked through the open door. “I have news from Blake.”

  Zach pulled away from Cass and fell on the floor.

  Cass straightened and extended her hand toward him. “Are you all right?”

  Cole looked around and scowled. “Where’s your chaperone?”

  Cass waved her hand. “Jem is in the other room.”

  “Jennifer!” Cole turned to Zach, who had regained his feet. “What were you doing sprawled all over my sister?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” She pointed to the door. “Take a walk. A long walk.”

  “But what about Blake’s letter?”

  Cole’s face matched her ginger hair. “Out!”

  Zach glanced toward Cass, but she was smoothing the material of her skirt. Had he done something wrong?