Impending Love and Madness

by Laura Freeman

Because mules pulled canal boats, some people called the canal workers muleskinners. How had Madame Cherie known Ethan worked on the canal?

  “Hey, I’m a soldier now.”

  She cackled and pointed at the next card. Cass turned it over. It was the moon.

  “Beware of danger, child. A stranger who is not unknown shall return into your life.”

  “She has no enemies,” Zach said. “Don’t scare her.”

  Madame Cherie raised a crooked finger to her sunken mouth. “Hush.” She focused on Cass. “Believe in yourself. Your courage will help you choose the correct path.”

  The next card had a knight on a horse.

  “You will go on a journey that will yield danger for you.” She looked around. “And others.”

  The final card had a knight yielding a sword.

  “You must risk your life to overcome your foe.”

  “I think she’s predicting my past,” Zach said. “How many times did I risk my life battling the Rebels?”

  “Enemies come in many forms,” Madame Cherie said, shuffling the cards.

  “You go next,” Cass said. “I hope your future is nicer than mine.”

  Madame Cherie waited for Zach to deposit more coins in the basket atop the statue. He cut the deck, and she dealt four cards in front of him.

  The first card had a chariot and driver.

  “You will have an argument with another and fall ill.”

  “He already did that.” Ethan laughed. “He fell and broke his leg.”

  “Do not confuse the past with the future.” Madame Cherie pointed at the next card.

  Zach turned over a hermit.

  “You need to be cautious. Deceit surrounds you.”

  Zach looked at his friends. “I hope she’s not talking about you.”

  “You mock the cards,” Madame Cherie warned. “But they speak the truth to those who will listen.” She tapped her crooked finger near the next card.

  He displayed the image of five wands.

  “You will struggle for your fortune.”

  “I don’t have a fortune,” Zach said.

  “She wants more money,” Ethan said.

  “No more coins,” Madame Cherie said. “Turn over the final card.”

  It contained five cups.

  “A single decision will save what you love or lose it all.”

  Zach laughed. “This is all nonsense.”

  Madame Cherie pointed at his chest. “Beware of the witch. Her brew is poison.”

  Zach looked around, confusion expressed on his handsome face. “What witch?”

  Cass stood. “I don’t like this.”

  The old woman grabbed her wrist. “Do not believe what you see with your eyes. They will deceive you.” She released her. “You are his only hope.”

  Cass shivered. “I want to leave.”

  Ethan led the way outside. The sunshine dispelled the feeling of doom the woman’s words had evoked. “I expected her to tell us we’d be rich or famous.”

  “It’s nonsense,” Harry said. “Miss Cassie will have the pick of suitors when she returns home. I only hope I’m one of them.”

  Cass smiled, but when she turned to Zach, he seemed preoccupied. “Is something wrong?”

  “I think I’m becoming ill.” He staggered on the sidewalk, clutching his throat.

  “Madame Cherie was right!” Harry backed away.

  Zach reached for him, gagging, and falling to one knee. He grabbed his ankle. Harry tried to shake him off. Zach let go and laughed. “Don’t be so gullible, Harry.” He stood and offered his arm to Cass.

  “That wasn’t funny,” Harry said, retrieving his kepi, which he’d knocked off in his retreat.

  “Zach is the gullible one, wasting his coins on the fanciful remarks of an old hag,” Ethan said.

  “It was entertaining,” Zach said. “And I liked the part about having a fortune.”

  “She said you’d struggle for it and lose it if you made the wrong decision,” Ethan said.

  “Do you remember what she said about me?” Cass asked.

  “Love, a stranger, and danger,” Ethan said. “That leaves these two out.”

  “The stranger wasn’t unknown,” Zach corrected.

  “But if she knows him, he isn’t a stranger,” Harry reasoned.

  Cass didn’t want to return to the parlor at Pierce House. With two suitors, Jem was being vigilant even with Ethan present. “Let’s visit Mermaid’s Mirth.” Cole and Jess were more lenient. She wanted to spend a few moments alone with Zach.

  They strolled along Seventh Avenue where it crossed the mall and paused at the remains of the Smithsonian Institute. Known as the Castle because of its Twelfth Century architect, the building’s red sandstone walls and towers were charred from a January 24 fire. Established to increase and diffuse the knowledge of men, it had housed a large library and lecture halls. The fire had destroyed the apparatus room, the picture gallery, the Regent’s room, and the lecture room along with personal writings of Secretary Joseph Henry.

  “It reminds me of Richmond,” Ethan said. “Walls without a roof. Empty shells without occupants.”

  “Did you see it before the fire?” Cass asked.

  “From a distance,” Harry said. “We never visited inside. Now it’s too late.”

  “Logan said they’ll rebuild it,” Cass said. “Not everything was destroyed. They have the Egyptian mummies on display.”

  “I’ve seen enough dead people to last a lifetime,” Ethan said.

  She wanted to avoid topics that caused the boys to withdraw into silence. “What about the Capitol? Have you seen the changes?”

  “We marched past it,” Harry said. “I have to admit, I was impressed.”

  “You need to go inside,” she said. “Constantino Brumidi is painting the Apotheosis of Washington in the eye of the Rotunda.”

  “Art?” Harry shook his head. “I don’t mind gadgets, but paintings seem like a waste of time.”

  “It may be the last time you’re in Washington City,” Cass said. “What do you want to see?”

  “We’ll visit the Capitol tomorrow,” Zach suggested. “With or without Harry.”

  “If Miss Cassie is the guide, I’ll be happy to visit.” Harry smiled at her. “It’s the company that counts.”

  Harry was sweet, but no fires ignited with his nearness. His words failed to stimulate more than a polite response. Zach could be standing in the distance, and the sight of him drove her heart to race at a frantic pace. She memorized the witty phrases he spoke and reflected on the tone, wondering if there was a deeper meaning. She had witnessed the same passion in her sisters when they looked at their husbands, but Zach never mentioned marriage or a future together.

  Courtship was rigid with rules and restrictions that forbade her to take the initiative. What thoughts dwelt behind those sour apple green eyes? She dreamed of their romance, proper and demure in the beginning, but desire would win out, and they would make passionate love. Her imaginings were so real, she would wake wet and panting from the erotic experience. She needed to gain control of her longings, or someday she would tear Zach’s clothes from his body and ravage him.

  “Are you all right?” Zach stared at her. Ethan and Harry were studying her.

  She searched for her handkerchief. “It must be the heat.”

  They reached Mermaid’s Mirth where Morgan and Blake had hitched Romulus and Remus to the wagon. Sid was seated at another wagon with a box of tools in the back.

  “What’s going on?” Zach asked.

  “We could use your help,” Blake said. “Soldiers are dismantling the hospital tents and makeshift buildings where the wounded stayed. We’re gathering the wood and canvas.”

  “To burn?” Ethan asked.

  “No, to rebuild,” Morgan said. “I received a letter from Captain Otis Baker. He was in my regiment and knows several families in Virginia who lost homes, barns, and out buildings during the war. I hope we can convince them to take the donations.
”

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Harry asked.

  “They’re not fond of Bluecoats,” Morgan said. “You’re the ones who burned them out.”

  “We did our burning in Georgia,” Ethan said.

  Morgan towered over him, a frown on his face. “You’re lucky you’re related. I have friends in Georgia.”

  Zach stepped between them. “We want to help. What needs done?”

  “Sid is taking us to the site where he’s purchased a few wagons and teams,” Blake said. “You can help load them.”

  Cass was no stranger to work. “I’d like to help.”

  “Your sisters are packing food, clothing, and blankets into my wagon,” Blake said. “We’ll come back this way and form a wagon train.”

  “It’ll be like old times for Jess and me,” Morgan said. He had borrowed Blake’s team and wagon in the retreat from Gettysburg, taking Jess as prisoner.

  “I’m driving Romulus and Remus,” Blake said. Morgan was his best friend but sharing only went so far.

  “Get aboard,” Sid called. “We’re wasting time. The scavengers will beat us to the wood.”

  The men climbed into the back of Sid’s wagon and waved as they headed to the closed camps.

  Jess carried several blankets outside.

  Cass examined them. “These look new.”

  “Sid bought them. The army is selling its surplus supplies.”

  “Didn’t he buy them for the hotel?”

  “We don’t need them,” Jess said.

  She was lying, but Cass didn’t argue. “Do you think the Southerners will take charity?”

  “Morgan said they may not accept handouts, especially from Yankees, but Confederate currency is worthless, and Sheridan’s cavalry didn’t leave much behind when they burned the farms and fields to starve Lee’s army.”

  “Then how are we going to make them accept our gifts?”

  “Morgan’s friend is going to take the items and distribute them. They’re working on a story.”

  “Story?”

  “Unguarded warehouse, stupid Yankees, something to save their pride.”

  “They fought against the government of the United States,” Cass reminded her. “Men we know died in the battles. They need to be humbled.”

  “You admired Abraham Lincoln,” Jess said. “Sometimes we have to put aside our personal feelings and do what is right for the future of everyone. If we give Southerners their dignity, the women and children won’t starve this winter.”

  “I’m still angry about the war and Lincoln’s death,” Cass confessed. “It seemed so futile. I need someone to blame.”

  “Booth blamed Lincoln for his imagined troubles and killed him. Others are crying out for blood from the Rebel soldiers even though Booth never fought in the war. They’ll say we’re traitors for helping our enemies. Morgan hears the name from both sides.”

  Morgan had fought for Virginia. His home. He never owned slaves, and he treated the blacks at Mermaid’s Mirth with respect. But none of that mattered to the few loud voices stirring hatred for an unknown gain hidden in their dark hearts. “How does he bear it?”

  “He does what is right. That’s why I fell in love with him. Men talk about moral integrity, but only a few live it.”

  Chapter Nine

  By the time the men returned, the women had packed the wagon with supplies, including chickens, three piglets, and a pair of turkeys that were being fattened for Thanksgiving. Sid approached in the lead wagon and three other wagons followed, loaded with wood and canvas.

  Harry washed his hands in the water trough. “You women don’t have to go.”

  “A bunch of men coming into town will look like an army,” Cole said. “A man and woman driving a team will look like a sociable visit.”

  “She’s right,” Blake said. “We want to look friendly. No talk of war. No talk of revenge.”

  “Then we better take these off.” Zach removed his coat and kepi and gathered the others from Harry and Ethan.

  Cass took them. They would be more comfortable without the wool coats. “You’re going to need hats in this sun.”

  “I keep my old straw hats in the barn.” Sid pointed. “You can borrow them.”

  Zach headed for the barn while Cass took the uniforms inside. She returned with a basket decorated with pink ribbons woven among the slats.

  “You’re bringing the magical basket,” Morgan said when he saw it.

  “Magical?” Cass examined her mother’s basket. It had traveled to Washington City with Jem in 1861.

  “Cole and I took it to Antietam, and I took it to Gettysburg,” Jess said. “It never remained empty.”

  “A fairy named Theo filled it.” Morgan winked at Jess.

  Cass shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re talking about.”

  Jess laughed. “If that basket could talk, it would speak of tales and adventures beyond imagination. It’s yours now. Enjoy.”

  “We’re ready to go.” Cole held Jake’s hand as she struggled with a larger basket.

  “What do you have in there?” Blake took the basket. “Jackson?” He looked around. “We’re taking the children?”

  “Jackson will go hungry if we don’t,” Jess called from her wagon seat.

  Morgan took the basket. “I believe that one is mine.” He placed Jackson next to Jess.

  “I waited three years for you to come home. From now on, we travel together.” Cole helped Jake climb into their wagon. “Besides, Jake wants to help his daddy.”

  “My daddy!” Jake pointed at him.

  Blake boarded and took the reins of Romulus and Remus. Cass waited until Blake finished kissing his wife before handing Cole a small bag. “It’s for Jake.” Inside was fruit and a few toys to keep him occupied on the trip.

  Tootie toddled toward the front wagon.

  Sid jumped to the ground. “Are you sure you want to go?”

  I’m a Southerner,” Tootie said. “I know how to talk to the women.”

  “You don’t need a bumpy ride,” Sid warned.

  “Then don’t hit any holes.” Tootie softened her words with a kiss to his cheek as he helped her board.

  Ethan was driving the last wagon. Zach jumped to the ground. His straw hat was battered with a hole in the crown and a broken brim, but it would keep the sun off his face. He helped Cass board.

  “There’s enough room for you to sit beside me.” Cass moved aside, and Zach joined her.

  “What about me?” Harry asked from the back.

  “You can’t sit on my lap,” Ethan hollered.

  “Keep an eye on the cows,” Zach said.

  Cass counted four cows tied to the back. “Where did you find them?”

  “The army wants to reduce its stockyard. Sid negotiated for these.”

  Cass glanced in the distance at a tall solitary pillar and laughed. “Sid could buy the Washington Monument.”

  “Do you think they’ll ever finish it?” Harry asked.

  “They have to tear down everything built for the war before they can erect new structures in the city,” Zach said. “Let’s help them.”

  ****

  The four wagons headed out of town toward the Virginia countryside. Some Southerners had abandoned their homes and farms completely, but those who had returned faced a land desecrated by war. Anything that had benefited the Confederacy had been ransacked, looted, or burned. Out buildings that once contained animals or feed were empty. Homes were vacant shells, the wind whistling through broken windows with varmints taking cover in cold chimneys or dark corners.

  Zach looked around. “How many times did we march through here?”

  “Too many to count,” Ethan said.

  “Does it feel strange to help the enemy?” Cass asked.

  “Former enemy,” Zach said. “I think President Lincoln would have wanted us to care for those who have nothing. He wanted to heal the wounds, and not only those that can be seen.”

  Zach sounded like a man of
integrity. He wasn’t driven by greed or fame. He stated his principles and stood by them.

  “It’s going to take more than a few gifts to erase the hate we saw in their eyes,” Ethan said. “I should have brought my rifle.”

  “The last thing we need is a weapon on a mission of peace,” Zach said.

  “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,” Harry said from behind.

  “You can try to convince them with words, but if I hear gun fire, I’m taking cover,” Ethan said. “Too many men are like Booth. Their hate has festered to madness.”

  “Then let’s deliver sanity into the world,” Cass said. “Let’s offer them hope.”

  The farm they stopped at belonged to Otis Baker, a former school teacher. A Confederate captain, he had served with Morgan in General Richard Ewell’s Corps. He had been part of General Jubal Early’s raids in 1864 in the Shenandoah Valley and had burned his share of Northern buildings.

  They unloaded supplies, wood, and canvas. The small house had served as a school and living quarters for Otis. It needed a roof and one wall replaced. The men divided the tasks and set to work.

  Cass helped her sisters build a camp while Tootie supervised the children under a canopy the men had erected to create shade. She collected wood for a fire. Then she dug a shallow pit and lined the hole with rocks. She arranged the wood to allow air to circulate beneath and placed a metal tripod with a hook over the stacked limbs.

  Cole was cutting vegetables, and Jess returned with two rabbits she had snared. “I haven’t lost my touch.” She sat on the ground cross-legged and removed her knife from her boot. “Bring me the newspaper, Cassie.”

  Cass spread the newspaper on the ground for Jess to work on. Jess had been the hunter in the family, but Cass had been in charge of the livestock, and that meant killing chickens or helping the butcher with a cow or pig. Animals were raised to be slaughtered, dressed, cooked, and eaten.

  Efficiency was key. Jess cut around the legs and slit the fur from hind leg to hind leg. She pulled the fur from the body like turning a sock inside out. She dressed the rabbits by removing the internal organs and cutting off the head and limbs. She handed the meat to Cole to chop into pieces for the stew.

  Cass wrapped the remains in the paper. “Do you want me to bury it?”