by Mary Ellis
Nate followed Henthorne in through the kitchen. Unbelievably, inconceivably, Amanda was packing food into a hamper at the table. Abigail sat on a bench, discretely nursing an infant under a coverlet.
“Amanda,” he croaked.
“Nate!” she cried, dropping a jar with a clatter.
Abigail rose to her feet with the baby in the crook of her elbow. “Oh, I’m glad you found him, Jackson! Will you help me finish upstairs while these two get reacquainted?”
“Very well, but you both need to be brief.”
Nate shook off his astonishment as his mission came roaring back to him. “Braxton Bragg has surrendered the city. We must leave at once.”
“We’ll be down in fifteen minutes. Everything else is ready to go.” Jackson set his arm around his wife and guided her toward the steps.
Suddenly Nate was alone with his beloved. Facing the Union infantry swarming the fort had been less intimidating. “No one should impede our flight until tomorrow…” he stammered.
“’Tis a blessing, then.” Amanda took hold of the hamper handles.
“I assume Henthorne wishes to take you and Miss Abigail to Oakdale.”
“Not anymore. He sent Salome and Amos ahead with the Henthorne heirlooms and planned for us to follow in the coach. Although he’s certain they got through, a neighbor reported that Union troops have closed the road.”
Nate nodded. “Will he head down the peninsula? My plot of land is there. I started a cabin, but I haven’t progressed very far.”
She smiled as though pleased. “Jackson intends to find the Lady Adelaine if he can reach her. His ship is anchored in a hidden inlet downriver.”
Nate nodded a second time as a plan knit together in his mind. “I know of an old farm trace we can take. I’m not sure where his ship is, but there’s a good chance I can get us close to it without being detected by Yankee soldiers.”
Silence spun out as they both digested what they learned. Then Nate lifted his gaze and prayed for her to do the same.
First their eyes met and then their hearts. They ran into each other’s arms, hugging and kissing and hugging some more. Each whispered sweet endearments they wouldn’t want anyone else to overhear. Amanda chastised him for joining a dangerous war, while he scolded her for not leaving during the darkest days of America’s illustrious history. All the while they continued to hug and kiss, making up for lost time, until someone cleared their throat behind them.
Dressed in traveling cloaks, the Henthornes stood in the doorway. “Are you two ready to go?” asked Abigail with mischief in her voice.
Nate withdrew from Amanda, but only to arm’s length. “Yes, ma’am, I believe we are. By the way, congratulations on your new son.” He bowed in Abigail’s general direction.
“Thank you,” she said as Jackson herded them outside. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up once we reach the Lady Adelaine.”
“Then let’s get started,” Nate and Amanda replied simultaneously.
Nate left the mansion with his hand wrapped around Amanda’s. Although he was still a private in the Confederate army, getting the woman he loved safely out of a burning city was more important than anything else.
Amanda paused to pick up her valise on their way out the door. In a fortuitous turn of events, it had arrived by teamster wagon that morning. Mr. Bobby Waite had been true to his word.
“Let me carry that,” Nate said as he pulled the handle from her fingers.
“Much obliged,” she murmured, her stomach tightening from his touch. Considering the events of the last few weeks, Amanda feared the gentle shopkeeper with a knack for turning a phrase would never be the same. Nor would she.
Out in the courtyard, Jackson took charge. “The women will ride inside the compartment with Jacky and the food we’re taking. You and I will ride topside with Thomas,” he said to Nate.
“Jacky?” asked Nate, strapping Amanda’s valise to the back.
Abigail paused on the coach’s step and smiled over her shoulder. “Jackson Jr., but Jacky seems appropriate for now. You look exhausted, Mr. Cooper. We could make room for you inside.”
Nate shook his head. “Your husband needs me to guide us to the river trace, assuming that the roads I remember are still open. Are you sure we can’t reach Oakdale?” he asked Henthorne.
“I am. The Yankees will confiscate the horses, carriage, and food, leaving us along the road to fend for ourselves. You, they will shoot with that uniform. Why not change into civilian clothes?”
The two men locked eyes. “I will not,” said Nate.
“Suit yourself. We’ll head in the direction the Yankees came from, hopefully not on the same roads. Do you agree, Cooper?”
“I do. Let’s get going.” Nate climbed up beside the coachman.
Jackson latched the door closed behind Amanda. “You ladies keep the windows shut and the curtains closed. I don’t know how rough the road will be or what sights we’ll pass along the way.”
“As you wish.” Although Amanda was happy to help Abby with little Jack, she yearned to be near Nate—to hold his hand and assure him that one day this madness would be over.
They rattled over bumpy roads for hours. When the sun set and they could no longer see ten feet in front of them, they stopped for the night. Amanda jumped down the moment the wheels stopped spinning. “What can I do to help?”
“Can you bring water from that stream for the horses?” Nate handed her a wooden bucket. “I’ll hobble them so they can graze without wandering too far.”
“Of course I can.” Amanda sprinted away as though her chore held great importance. To feel useful in any fashion pleased her. Once both horses had drunk deeply, she went in search of Nate.
He was exiting the woods with an armful of branches. “This is all fairly dry. It should get us through the night without creating much smoke.” He dumped the pile near the small fire Jackson had started with newspaper and twigs.
Abigail pulled food from the hamper, and soon they were gathered around the blaze, munching sandwiches. Amanda passed around jars of cistern water from home. With everyone tired and sore from the rough ride, there was little conversation during the meal. Longing to get a few things off her chest, Amanda tried to catch Nate’s attention.
The moment they finished eating, Jackson ordered the women back to the coach for the night. “Cooper, Thomas, and I will sleep by the fire,” he said.
Abigail rose with the baby to comply, but Amanda held up a hand in protest. “No, brother-in-law. I believe I’ll spend the first half the night out here while you rest.” She pointed at a rock close to Nate. “Midway through the night, I’ll go to the coach while you keep watch. Nate can sleep then. In the meantime, he and I have catching up to do that won’t wait.” Her tone of voice brooked no argument.
“A splendid idea.” Abigail hoisted the baby higher in her arms and reached for her husband’s hand. “If you recall, my dear, we were once young and in love.”
Jackson helped her across the uneven ground. “You and Miss Dunn are exactly the same age, and I love you just as much as—” The closing coach door obscured the remainder of his protest. Thomas looked at the two of them, and he then turned and discreetly walked off.
Amanda prayed her courage wouldn’t abandon her. “I hope you don’t mind staying awake a tad longer, but I wanted to explain why I’m still in America.” Settling primly on the rock, she smoothed her skirt over her ankles.
Nate plopped onto a log and moved his boots toward the heat. “I can remain upright long enough to listen to a few things I already know.” A grin tugged at his lips.
“And what would those be, Mr. Cooper?”
He stuck out his left thumb. “You were worried about your sister and refused to leave until her baby arrived.”
“Go on,” she encouraged.
Nate extended his index finger. “You were also worried about me and wouldn’t leave while the fighting continued.”
“Absolutely the truth on both counts. Have you a
third conjecture to add? Perhaps you wish to venture a guess regarding my heart?” Amanda held her breath as she waited for his response.
His grin faded, replaced by a somber expression. “I hope you love me so much you will wait on the Lady Adelaine until I return, Amanda. That’s what I yearn to hear more than anything.”
“What? Surely you’re not going back to the army…that would be suicide! Everyone whispers that the Confederacy will soon be defeated. What difference can one man make now?” Tears collected in her eyes. “But your life makes all the difference in the world to m-me.” Amanda choked on the final word.
He knelt next to her and folded her hands in his. “If God is merciful, the war will end soon. It can’t last much longer. Then we can be together for the rest of our lives—”
She pushed him away, along with his condescension and willingness to gamble with their future. “Jackson burned his Rebel uniform in the fireplace. Burn yours here, Nate, before some Yankee shoots you.” She pointed imperiously toward the dying fire.
“I don’t judge Henthorne or any man, but I must make my own choices. Before God I gave an oath to remain loyal until the end.” Nate tossed a handful of sticks into the fire, the flickering light reflected in his eyes.
“Oooooh! You are an obstinate man!” Amanda jumped to her feet. “I had planned to beg forgiveness for my narrow-mindedness. I intended to tell you about changes I implemented at Dunn Mills and the village of Wycleft. But there is no talking to you, Mr. Cooper!” Overcome with hurt and anger, she stomped to the carriage and yanked open the door. A moment later, Jackson stumbled out, hastily buttoning his frock coat. Her brother-in-law would simply have to adjust to the change in plans because if she spent one more minute in Nate’s company, she would forget she was a well-bred, genteel Englishwoman.
The next day they found the Lady Adelaine anchored in an idyllic little cove. Because the ground was soft and muddy, they carefully concealed the coach behind briars and walked to the ship. Abigail refused to mount the horse, so Amanda rode carrying little Jack. Nate led the way, clutching the gelding’s reins tightly, followed by Jackson and Abby. Thomas brought up the rear with his double-barreled shotgun.
Several armed guards patrolling the deck looked rather surprised when they emerged from the cover of foliage. “Mr. Henthorne, I didn’t think you would arrive on foot,” called a pink-faced man with red hair. “Come aboard, sir. All’s well here. The Lady lists to the side in low tide, but she floats nicely in high.”
When Nate lifted Amanda off the horse, she murmured an embarrassed, “Thank you,” and approached the gangplank without hesitation. He followed at her heels after handing the reins to Thomas.
“Mr. Campbell, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Jackson. “May I present my wife, Mrs. Henthorne, and her sister, Miss Dunn?”
“How do, ma’am, miss?” Campbell doffed his cap and bobbed his head. “I trust you will find the Lady Adelaine comfortable.”
“My husband expresses everyone’s sentiments, sir. We are all glad to finally arrive from Wilmington.” Abigail extended her hand.
Campbell kissed the back of her gloved fingers lightly. “If I can be of any service, ma’am, do not hesitate to ask.” He dropped his gaze politely.
Amanda smiled at Campbell as Nate stepped past the introductions and onto the ship. “Shall we explore my new home for the foreseeable future?” she asked him. Sarcasm dripped from the question, but she couldn’t help herself. Now that they had found each other again, why did he insist on returning to the battlefield?
Although not as large as the steamer that brought her to North Carolina, the Lady Adelaine was beautifully trimmed with brass, well stocked with food, and had several cisterns of fresh water for baths and washing clothes. Jackson’s guards took turns on watch and seemed to be a responsible lot. That night the weary travelers dined on fresh trout, sweet potatoes, buttermilk biscuits, and canned peas. She and Nate made polite conversation during the meal and passed the night counting stars on deck. She slept in a feather bed with a down pillow, lulled to sleep by the night sounds.
But on the morning of the third day, he crept into her stateroom, kissed her softly on the lips, and whispered goodbye. Amanda didn’t speak or return the kiss. She was too terrified for their future to do anything but pretend she was asleep.
Eighteen
March 1865
Abigail stood on the deck of the Lady Adelaine, her attention focused on a blue heron fishing for lunch in the shallows. She’d grown accustomed to the boat canting to the side during low tide. She’d adjusted to the confining size of even the largest of the staterooms. She’d learned to tolerate the mosquitoes feasting on any exposed skin now that spring had arrived. But what she couldn’t stand was Jackson sneaking off while she and little Jack slept.
Sometimes he rode to Wilmington alone. On other occasions he took Thomas when they needed food for his family and crew. How could he be so certain Yankees wouldn’t shoot him just for sport? The boat’s inhabitants could manage without supplies from town. With the fish caught by Mr. Campbell and the game snared by Thomas, they had enough to eat. She knew Jackson worried about their house. Blessedly, the fire had not spread past the waterfront. And thus far, Jackson’s clever plan to keep Yankees from inhabiting had worked. Few men were brave enough to enter a home marked: Plague patients. Enter at your own peril.
Abigail could live without the Henthorne mansion on Third Street. She could survive splendidly without ever crossing the threshold of Oakdale again. But she couldn’t live without her beloved husband. He had grown even more doting and tender since Jacky’s birth.
“Shall I hold Jack Jr. for a while?” asked Amanda.
Abigail startled. “I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear you approach. Here you are, Aunt Mandy. But I won’t go far in case he becomes fussy.”
Amanda took the infant from her. “I have good news for you, sister.”
“Did Thomas snare a hapless rabbit last night? You and I are becoming adept at cooking rabbit stew. Your Mr. Cooper will be quite pleased with your new skills. Although I won’t have much call for the recipe once we leave our backwater home.”
Amanda grinned over the baby’s tiny head. “No, the news has nothing to do with supper tonight. Guess again.”
“Stop teasing and tell me this instant. You’re still as contrary as you were when we were children.” Abigail leaned over the rail to gauge the tide’s progress.
“One of Mr. Campbell’s guards spotted Jackson riding along the river from the crow’s nest. He should be reaching the gangplank any minute now.” Amanda gently chucked the baby under his chin. Jacky gurgled and grinned as though having great fun.
Abigail huffed with annoyance. “I’m going to pull your hair when you least expect it!” Her chastisement held little conviction. Jackson is home, safe and sound, once more. Hurrying to the lower deck, she tucked a few loose curls behind her ears. Her days of elaborate coiffures festooned with ribbons and feathers were gone. Now she plaited her hair into a long braid that she coiled at the nape of her neck. At night she unwound the braid for Jackson with great showmanship.
She ran back up the stairs and arrived topside just in time to say, “Why, Mr. Henthorne, what an inconvenient time to come calling.” She feigned a tone of disapproval. “You’re too late for luncheon and too early for tea. I ask you, sir, were your born in a barn?”
Jackson knocked his boot heels against a post before stepping on deck. Then he picked her up and swung her in a full circle. “I’ll be sure to mention to Mother that you questioned her standards in the nursery.”
“Heavens! Put me down!” she shrieked, giggling. “What will the neighbors say if someone sees such foolishness in broad daylight?”
“I don’t care about the opinions of nosy squirrels and muskrats. You keep watch for any tattletelling possums.” He kissed her firmly on the mouth the moment her feet landed on deck.
“You will tell your mother nothing about my questions. Marri
ed couples should keep their own confidences.” Strolling the length of the Lady Adelaine, she hugged him around the waist.
“In that case, my love, I have a confidence to share. Soon everyone will know, but today I choose to impart this information solely to you.” Jackson kissed the tip of her nose.
“Tell me at once or I’ll make you walk the plank.”
“This water is too shallow to drown in, but as you wish. General Schofield has organized his men in preparation to leave the city. According to my informant, the Yankees will soon march west toward Fayettesville to join that troublesome Billy Sherman.” Jackson’s grin filled his face.
“That’s wonderful news! I cannot fathom why the soldiers were still in Wilmington. All the Confederate troops moved out in February to join General Johnston.”
“They needed to rebuild the railroad tracks leading to and from the city, along with several bridges.”
“Then you can start shipping again, my dear?”
He laughed with surprising good cheer. “Not hardly. Whatever wasn’t burned by General Bragg became Yankee property. If steamers start arriving in port from Nassau or abroad, the food and munitions with be confiscated for the Union army, not ours. They still control the fort and the entire Eastern Seaboard, for that matter.”
“Then I’m confused why this news has lifted your spirits.” Abigail looked up at him, bewildered.
“Because it means we can go home soon. We can leave our floating refuge in the woods and return to civilization.” Jackson brushed a kiss across her forehead. “The Yankees left only a few details of men and provost marshals to maintain the peace. They will ensure civilians don’t interfere with Union supplies being offloaded and ferried to the railroad depot. But no one will bother an upstanding family going about their business uptown.”
“Does this mean Nate will be coming home?” Amanda stepped from the shadows where she had been lurking, the baby sleeping soundly in her arms.
“Were you eavesdropping, sister?” Abigail chastised, reaching for her son. “Some things never change.”