Dreams of Savannah

by Roseanna M. White

  “He may need this on the march as well.” He held out the pistol. Much as he hated to return it to the cad, he also couldn’t in good conscience send a soldier to the front lines unarmed. “I’m afraid I had to take it from him when he lunged at me.”

  They didn’t ask any questions about what made him lunge. But there was ample rolling of eyes and muttering. One of the tipsy men took the pistol, and the other two hauled James to his feet. He didn’t so much as open his eyes, though he mumbled something entirely incoherent.

  Phin lifted a hand to them in farewell, calling out a final thanks. Only once they were well out of sight did he turn back to the tree and Delia. Time to see his adventurous miss home.

  Salina had never stepped foot on a boat before tonight, and her fingers dug into the sides of this one with every sway and undulation. She didn’t quite trust it not to spill her out into the water. And though she knew her aunt hadn’t been right about spirits living down there, she also knew this journey was one of the most dangerous she’d ever make.

  The dark held as Rock maneuvered out of the tricky waters of the river. And when they reached the open waters, the moon slipped out from behind a cloud and shone down on them in silvery splendor. Beside her, Eva hummed a nearly silent lullaby, her little one yawning but settling right back down after nursing.

  Take wing and fly away. She’d never dreamed she’d do it someday. Not through the air, but over water anyway. Rock let loose the sails now that they were away from the shore, and the little craft picked up speed. Flying, flying across the water. Flying on home.

  She clutched the box she still held, then opened it. The moonlight caressed the locket inside. Beautiful. She couldn’t tell in the night if it was gold or silver, but either way it was the costliest thing she’d ever called her own. She slid a nail between the two halves, her breath catching as it popped open.

  The moonlight was too faint to give her a good look at it. But it was enough. Enough to recognize Murruh’s precious face. She stared at it for a long moment. Then closed the locket, lifted it, kissed it. A few quick movements and she had it fastened around her neck, under her dress. It was safer there than in a box she had to carry.

  When she looked up again, River was sliding to her other side. He’d been rowing when they were in the mouth of the river, but Rock must not need him so much now. He greeted her with a smile. “Soon, sweethaa’t. Soon we be home. My family’ll be yo family.”

  Home. She let her eyes slide shut and turned her face into the breeze. Yes, she was flying away. Flying away to more than she ever dreamed would be hers.

  Cordelia squeezed Mama’s shoulder and followed Moses’s beckoning hand out of Daddy’s room. He seemed better today than he was yesterday. His color was a little pinker. His voice a little stronger. Though he was still as weak as a baby and sleeping more than he was awake. But that was to be expected forty-eight hours after a heart attack, the doctor had said.

  Moses closed the door behind her, whispering, “Mr. Phin’s here. I had to put him in the drawing room, what with the rain.”

  Her heart kicked up. “Thank you.”

  “Go on, then. Don’t wait for my old legs.”

  She grinned at him and then accepted his dismissal and rushed down the central staircase. Would he have news? Of River and Salina? She’d been on pins and needles all day yesterday, waiting for something. For word to come that their slave had been caught. For Julius to barge in, despite the fact that he should have been marching north to Virginia. For Phin to come with news of the boat sinking or being fired upon.

  But it had been a quiet day. The worst actual moment was when Mama had demanded to know where Salina was when she couldn’t find her to assign some new drudgery. All the servants had met her questions with wide-eyed shrugs, until finally Fanny suggested that “mebbe she done lit out.”

  Cordelia had expected an explosion. Instead, Mama had simply lifted her chin and said, “Good riddance, then.” No mention of hiring a slave hunter to find her. No questions to Cordelia or any of the servants. Certainly none to Daddy. It was as if she’d welcomed the opportunity to forget Salina even existed.

  The drawing room door stood open, and Cordelia rushed through it, her gaze searching out Phin’s face the moment he came into view. Please, don’t let him look sad or anxious. Please, Lord.

  He smiled, and that knot of worry inside went loose. Her shoulders sagged. “They’re all right?”

  He nodded, glancing past her, probably to make sure her mother hadn’t followed her. Then he held out a hand for her to take. “Rock made it back last night and left a note for me from River. They’re safe, settled. And welcomed with gladness when they laid out their plan to educate the others on the island.”

  “Oh, praise the Lord.”

  “Amen to that. Now, how’s your father? That was my official reason for coming.”

  Cordelia squeezed his fingers. “Improving. It’ll be a long, slow process. But Dr. Wilkes is hopeful that since he made it through the first day and night, he’ll recover.”

  “He can’t help but get better with you and your mother nursing him.” The gleam in his eyes could fuel a million dreams of him. Had. Would.

  “Miss Delia? You got nother visitor,” Old Moses said from the door. “Miss Annaleigh.”

  Cordelia sucked in a breath. Though Annaleigh had been here countless times over the years, she’d never come on her own. Never when there hadn’t been an invitation for some little lunch or tea or picnic. Never when not expected. But maybe she, like Phin’s official story, was here to inquire after Daddy. She nodded. “Show her in, of course, Moses. Thank you.”

  With one more squeeze of her fingers, Phin let her go and put a bit more space between them, just in time for Annaleigh to glide into the room. The mean glint in her eyes belied the dimpled smile on her face.

  “Well, Phineas Dunn, I do declare. I thought that was your phaeton I saw, but then, I haven’t seen you around here much of late.” She came toward them, skirts swaying and hand outstretched.

  Phin took it, bowed over it, but even Annaleigh must have noted how stiff he looked. “Were it up to me, I’d be here daily, I assure you.”

  Obviously not the response Annaleigh was hoping for. Her simpering smile faltered and then fell away altogether. She reclaimed her hand from Phin and spun on Cordelia. “Well. I don’t mean to stay long, I’m sure you’re all busy with your father. I merely wanted to ask if I might speak with that maid of yours for a moment. Sally, is it?”

  “No, it’s not.” But her palms went damp. Why in the world would Annaleigh want to speak with Salina? “And she’s indisposed right now. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Oh, I very much doubt it.” She sashayed toward the window. “My own maid seems to have run off—with her infant daughter—and Daddy is fit to be tied, let me just tell you. He’s been questioning the remaining slaves endlessly since Vangie turned up missing, and this morning someone admitted to seeing Salina come by the other day. That’s all.”

  Got her name right that time, Cordelia couldn’t help but notice. She folded her arms over her chest. “I sent her over, yes. To return that pattern I’d borrowed last month. We were all scrabbling for something to do, and I knew she’d appreciate the walk.”

  Annaleigh batted her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t mean in the afternoon. I meant that night. Unless you sent her on another empty errand at ten o’clock? I do find that infinitely hard to believe.”

  Cordelia offered a bland smile. “Well, I am full of quirks, as you’ve pointed out yourself often enough.”

  For a moment, her uninvited guest just stood, clearly fuming. Then she took a step forward, her curls bobbing with the slashing motion of her hand. “I knew you’d make excuses for her! I knew it! But she’s run off, too, hasn’t she? They both did—together. Well, we’re not going to stand for it, even if you mean to. Daddy’s looking for a good slave hunter even now, and we won’t rest until that ungrateful wretch is dragged back here.”<
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  Though a hole opened up in the pit of Cordelia’s stomach, Phin didn’t seem to be disturbed. Looking utterly calm, he said, “I wouldn’t recommend it, Miss Young.”

  She started, as if she’d forgotten he was even there. “I beg your pardon?”

  Phin reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of papers. “I was planning on stopping by to visit your father today after I left here. I’ve come across some very . . . unfortunate information regarding that woman he means to hunt down.”

  Annaleigh’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of information?”

  Cordelia leaned forward a bit, too, not sure if he meant to weave a true tale or a false one. Curious either way.

  He motioned with the papers. “As everyone has known—and been gossiping about—for months, I’d been searching for my man Monty’s wife. Turns out it was your Vangie all along. Which we’d have known a lot sooner if your father hadn’t all but quarantined her when it came out she was expecting.”

  “I don’t see what—”

  “She was brought here illegally.” He unfolded the papers and held them out. From her vantage point, Cordelia only caught a glimpse of a seal, but it looked official. “And I can prove it. Your father purchased her from a man who had just arrived from Cuba—where he, in turn, had just purchased her from a planter named Rosario. I’m sure you know that international trading of slaves has been strictly prohibited for many years.”

  Annaleigh’s cheeks went red. “Well, it’s hardly our fault if that man misrepresented where he purchased her!”

  “The law might not see it that way. Though if you want me to take this to them and see . . .”

  Cordelia had to bite her lips to keep from grinning. This was probably what he’d been doing yesterday—finding the paper trail to back up the truth, now that it was all pieced together.

  Annaleigh huffed. “What they’ve been saying about you is true, Phineas Dunn. You really do care more for the slaves than you do your own kind! And you!” She spun again on Cordelia. “You . . . you’re not even pretty! I hope you die an old maid!” With that, she pivoted and all but ran from the room.

  “My. I am so very insulted.” Cordelia shook her head, even as the ridiculous curse settled on her shoulders. Daddy’s opinion of Phin hadn’t changed any just because Julius had proven himself a monster. So, an old maid she could end up being. It easily could be years before she could convince him to relent. Especially now when he suspected she had helped Salina run away.

  Before she could turn back to Phin, Mama’s frowning figure filled the doorway. “Was that Annaleigh Young? I declare, I’d have thought you’d have the sense not to make such a ruckus with your father so ill.”

  Phin stepped forward, though Cordelia wished he’d hidden somehow instead. “It was my fault, Mrs. Dunn. I shared some unfortunate news I’d just discovered about her maid, and you know Annie. She got a bit . . . vocal.”

  Mama nodded, but then narrowed her eyes. “And what, may I ask, are you doing here alone in a room with my daughter, Mr. Dunn?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just inquiring about your husband, ma’am. We’ve been praying for him without ceasing.”

  “Mm.” Mama didn’t look angry. She just looked so very tired. No, weary. No . . . exhausted, and not just physically. She stepped to the side, a clear message that he ought to take advantage of the open door. “I’m sure Delia brought you up to date. And now, my darling daughter, you had better say good-bye. I don’t imagine you’ll be seeing Mr. Dunn again for quite some time. As soon as your father’s well enough, we’re leaving Savannah for the duration of the war. And in the meantime, our house is closed to visitors.”

  Good-bye? No! She wanted to scream it, argue, cry out. But Mama wouldn’t hear her. She wouldn’t hear anything right now but her own worry, her own pain. So, Cordelia took a few steps and then turned to face Phin when her mother could only see her back. Mouthed I love you. “Good-bye, Phin. Thank you.” I’ll write.

  He smiled. It was small, and it was sad, and it was filled with an understanding that went far beyond words. He knew she’d write. To him, whenever she could manage it. And more. She’d write every word the Lord allowed her, until she had something that would make a difference.

  He lifted a hand, and then settled it over his heart. “Forever, Delia. And then some. However long it takes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  APRIL 10, 1862

  Another shell exploded, shaking the window as Cordelia walked by. Her heart pounded, her stomach rose closer to her throat. “It’s miles away,” she murmured to herself. “Miles. It’s the fort they want, not Savannah.”

  Still, she heard Mama shriek down the hall, shouting at the servants to hurry up. They’d been packing ever since the first shells bombarded Fort Pulaski that morning, ever since Daddy had declared, “I’m well enough, whether the doctor agrees or not. We’re leaving. Today. Anything you can’t live without, get it ready.”

  They’d made as many preparations as they could for this day ahead of time. Still, it was no easy task, loading up a household. Cordelia told herself to stay calm. To be an island unaffected by it all.

  Which would be a lot easier if one island weren’t under attack right now, the batteries stationed on another. On Big Tybee. Where Salina was with her River. Where Evangelina was with Luther.

  She eased onto the edge of her bed, her eyes trained on the window. The fort was well out of sight, of course, but it was in that general direction. Its stone walls meant to defend the city, the coast. Its brave men determined not to surrender, to wait out any siege. She’d even heard that a courier swam across the river every week to get messages back and forth without the Yankees knowing.

  Another boom echoed over the city. The men could wait out a siege . . . but could they withstand the Union arsenal?

  Her trunk yawned open at the foot of her bed, her favorite dresses, gowns, shoes, and gloves already packed. Her stories all neatly tied together with twine, her inks and pens carefully stored in their boxes. Daddy had told her she couldn’t take but a dozen books, so she’d buried Uncle Tom’s Cabin in the bottom. Resting on the top was Great Expectations, wrapped in the lace and jet-beaded shawl that she’d scarcely taken off this last month.

  It had been such a quiet month. No visitors. No visits. No Salina. Just Cordelia and her words. Cordelia and her parents. They’d mentioned Phin a few times, to lay out again why he wasn’t a good match, especially now, when his lands were likely in ruins. She never said a word in reply. Never brought it up herself.

  For now, she’d simply love them. Care for Daddy. Show Mama that though they were different, it was no reason they couldn’t get along. And she’d trust that someday, God willing, her own story might have some sort of happy ending.

  But if not . . . then at least she knew she was spending her life well. She had a novel started, already so long that it took up a goodly portion of her allotted book space in her trunk. A novel about a set of friends that shouldn’t have been. About a world that said they were too different, that one was the natural superior to the other. About hearts that knew they were the same.

  The plantation would, at least, offer plenty of quiet for writing. And she knew good Moses and Fiona and the others who were traveling there with them would keep helping her sneak letters to and from Phin.

  “Miss Delia?” A knock accompanied the call, the door opening to Fiona before Cordelia had time to bid her enter. Her eyes were wide. “You gwine wanna come wif me, baby. Yo Mr. Phin’s here!”

  “What?” She leapt to her feet. “And they’re letting me see him?”

  “Lettin you?” Fiona scoffed and waved her on. “Naw, they ain’t send nobody up to fetch ya. But that don’t mean you kin’t at least see him. Come on. I take you behind the walls. I knows you at least want a last peek.”

  Cordelia tucked her hand into Fiona’s and let her lead her down the back stairs and the servants’ stairs—and then into one of the many passages she’d never enter
ed, which allowed the servants to slip in and out of rooms without disturbing anybody.

  How had she never written a story about these?

  She hadn’t time to shiver at the darkness though, nor to explore the maze. Fiona was leading her more quickly than she’d thought the old lady could move toward the faint echo of voices. Daddy’s. Mama’s. Phin’s.

  Longing made her throat go tight, and she gripped Fiona’s fingers all the more. Then they were there, a sliver of light showing her the break in the paneling. It was cracked open—no doubt darling Fiona’s work—so Cordelia could put her eye to it and peek into the room. She had to shift her position to see much of anything, but by doing so she could glimpse her parents, settling now onto the divan. And Phin, standing with his hat in his hands.

  “Thank you for seeing me,” he was even then saying.

  Daddy’s voice sounded back to normal these days, though his coat hung loose on him, clear evidence of a month of little appetite and less exercise. “If you’re here to beg for Delia’s hand again, save your breath, Phineas. We’re getting her to safety.”

  “I know. And I didn’t. I came . . .” He paused and drew in a long breath, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “I came simply to say that you’re doing the logical thing, taking her inland. I can’t blame you for it. And I know that right now all I have left to offer is what you’re running from—a house in Savannah. Our plantation is lost to us. Maybe we’ll get it back someday, maybe we won’t. And that isn’t enough. She deserves more. Even so.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, held it in the palm of his hand. It was long, thin. Cordelia leaned forward half an inch. A key? “I don’t have much anymore. But what I do have, I offer to you, and I swear to you I’ll do all I can to protect it.” Yes, a key. He held it out. “I know you don’t value it very highly. And I know this key is just a symbol. But I want you to have it. To know that our home is always open to you or yours. That Cordelia is the only woman I would ever bring into it as a mistress. So.” When they didn’t reach for it, he set the key down.