Defiant Hearts Read online

  “I’m working on it now; but I have to be extra careful in how I obtain that information. It requires a lot of plausible excuses to get into or near those areas. The map and notes should be finished in a week or two.”

  “Don’t do anything to get yourself caught, Miss Laura.”

  “I’ll try. You be careful, Ben, and stay safe.”

  He touched three fingers to his brim, and smiled. “The same to you, Miss Laura. I only wish you’d find somebody else to bring these; it’s much too dangerous for a beautiful and genteel lady to be here.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, Ben, but trust is hard to come by these days. I’ll see you at ten next Thursday night if I have anything to report.”

  As Laura mounted, he reminded her, “Things are gettin’ crowded and risky around Petersburg, so don’t forget what I told you last week: if anybody is ever waitin’ here besides me, don’t say or do anything to expose yourself. If Grant or I have sent him, he’ll call you Vixen, ’cause we’re the only two who know your code name. We don’t share that secret with anybody ‘cause we don’t know who might be a Rebel spy or a double agent.”

  “I remember. And if I’m ever compelled to send someone in my stead, that person will use my code name for identification. Don’t trust anyone who calls me Laura or Miss Carlisle. If such an occasion arises, I have that picture of you hidden and I’ll show it to my replacement for recognition. You also know that if I miss more than two meetings, it means I’m either captured or being watched. But don’t try to approach me or rescue me. Grant needs your eyes and ears and skills, so stay safe and free.”

  “Thanks, Miss Laura, that’s mighty kind of you. Take this packet of mail; you might need ’em tonight; authentic from Belle’s Hill. Got ’em from a lady who does nursin’ there.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, taking the packet as she prepared to leave the meeting spot. She headed home via the main road, which would be safer at this late hour and would save time.

  Before she reached the outskirts of town, two soldiers leapt from the trees and one shouted, “Halt! Identify yourself and explain your presence.”

  Her horse reared and whinnied in surprise, then pranced in tension. As she patted his neck to calm him, she replied, “I’m Laura Carlisle from Richmond. I have a pass from General Ewell to be here. I took letters and treats to the wounded at Belle’s Hill farm today. So many men with arm injuries needed me to write for them that I got a late start in leaving.” She held up a packet of mail from Ben and said, “These are letters from the men to their families if you want to inspect them.”

  “Why didn’t you take the train instead of riding out alone?” one man asked her.

  “It’s been filled beyond capacity for the past three days and the fruit would have spoiled if I’d waited any longer. I have a revolver in my pocket, I’m an excellent rider, and the Yanks are bottled up on the other side of the river according to General Ewell, so I felt safe to travel the sixteen miles.”

  “You shouldn’t be out after dark; enemies could be lurking about.”

  “As I said, I intended to be home long before dark. I just couldn’t refuse to help those wounded men who’ve given so much for us, and I couldn’t spend the night there. If you need to confirm my identity, we can ride to General Ewell’s and you can speak with him about me.”

  “We believe you, miss. But in the future, please get home before dark. We wouldn’t want a lady to be shot by accident or captured by the enemy.”

  “You are most kind, sir, and I shall be more careful next time. Good night, and may God watch over and protect you and our great cause,” she told the Rebel soldiers who smiled and nodded in gratitude.

  After reaching home, Laura tended her horse. Alvus Long—the free black man who took care of her stable, yard, and errands—was gone for the night and was not one of her accomplices. Since the rooms over the stable were dark, Laura knew her other two female workers who lived there were still busy inside the hotel and wouldn’t witness her strange behavior.

  She entered her home to refresh herself before going to let Lily know she was back, unharmed and unexposed. But Lily arrived simultaneously to check on her.

  “Everything went fine,” Laura told the nervous female. “I’m safe and sound and the message is en route to General Grant at City Point.”

  “You get changed into a nightgown and I’ll fetch some herbal tea to calm you. Everything is normal next door; nothing unusual tonight. Belle is with a patron in Room A and Cleo is serving the guests who are still awake.”

  Laura did as her friend suggested before Lily returned, and they went to the small sitting room to chat and relax.

  Laura curled her legs against her left thigh and sat sideways on the sofa to face Lily, freshly brushed long blond hair streaming down her back. As she waited for her hot tea to cool, she murmured, “Remember how most Southerners thought either the North would release them from the Union without resistance or any ensuing war would be won fast and easy?”

  “Don’t forget, I’m a Yankee and wasn’t here in the beginning. My parents and our neighbors were almost ignorant of what was happening so far away until the truth was forced upon them. They never believed anything bad could happen to them; war and my fate proved otherwise.”

  Laura knew about Lily’s troubled past, of how her family had disowned her after she’d had an affair with a Rebel whom Lily believed loved and planned to marry her; the humiliated Harts had refused to let the pregnant and unwed Lily join them or know where they were resettling when they moved from Sharpsburg, Pennsylvania. After suffering a miscarriage and nearly dying, Lily had turned to prostitution to support herself. Finally, she was befriended by Clarissa Carlisle. That encounter had changed Lily’s clientele, but not the female’s occupation.

  To distract Lily from her clearly painful musings, Laura said, “In Fredericksburg and other towns, it started off like a…an adventure, a celebration. Bells rang and cannons roared. There were parades, bonfires, feasting, fireworks, bands playing and people singing Dixie. There was so much boasting about putting the Yankees in their place. Clarissa told me that President Davis was greeted in Richmond with a fifteen-gun salute. That awesome week seems so long ago and far away.”

  “It changed things for many of us and started us down new roads,” Lily reminisced with a sigh.

  Laura remembered that was the week when Lily’s treacherous soldier had deserted her, so she hurried on, “So many men and great leaders are being killed, men like Jackson and Stuart, lives wasted in the names of Duty and Devotion. I don’t want my father and brothers added to that growing list. People are hungry, exhausted, and disillusioned, but the horrors of war go on just the same. When are they going to realize that emancipation is a fact in the North and an eventual certainty in the South?”

  Lily shrugged, shook her head, and sipped her tea.

  Laura gazed into her cup. “It’s incredible that so many Southerners will fight to the death when most don’t own even a single slave.”

  “Why do you think they do it?”

  “Father said most Southerners have been convinced our economy depends on slavery. Large planters with many slaves are few, Lily; but they’re wealthy, prestigious, and powerful men. Also, even though there are about 250,000 free blacks in Dixie, most southern whites don’t believe that freed slaves can coexist peacefully with their former masters. They fear that changing things will lead to more black insurrections. Sometimes I fear that the differences between North and South are so great that we’ll never have peace and prosperity again.”

  As Laura sipped her tea, Lily remarked, “But a war can’t go on forever. Even without a winner, men, supplies, arms, and the will to fight vanish. I can’t understand how a man as revered and intelligent as President Davis could be part of this. And it’s known that General Lee hates war and was against secession, yet, he’s a leader in this crazy fight. How can such great men truly believe they’re doing the right thing?”

  Laura poured the
m more tea and added honey to sweeten it as she said, “Of course, there are other issues involved besides slavery. Some have to do with tariffs and taxes which are highly beneficial to northern manufacturers and shippers but a heavy burden to southern planters. Father told me part of the problem was that it had been so long since men had banded together to fight Great Britain that feelings of unity and allegiance were gone. And advancements in economy, communications, transportation, and technology widened the gap between the North and South.”

  When Lily seemed greatly interested in her words and opinions, Laura continued, “Part of the trouble started with that Missouri Compromise when the Mason-Dixon Line was established; it was like irrevocably separating the North and South, like drawing a line on the ground as each dared the other to step over it. Father said the South feared more tariffs would be levied to their disadvantage and great sums of money would be spent helping the North with more ports, canals, roads, and railroads: they believed money taxed from them and used in such manners would cripple their economy. Some accused northern banks of refusing to give them loans for building mills and factories and for making improvements in the South just to keep the South at a disadvantage, to keep it inferior and dependent on them. They also accused northern legislators of voting against bills to advance the railway system and to create more ports in the South.”

  Laura shook her head and sighed. “The Missouri matter wasn’t a compromise, Lily, it was a death blow to the South.”

  “How do you remember so many things?” Lily asked in amazement.

  “Father insisted I be educated to the best of my ability; first, at home with private lessons and later, at a finishing school for young ladies, though I didn’t have time to complete my last year of studies before the war began. We had to memorize so many things that I guess that habit stuck. I still love reading and learning anything. However, neither Father nor I expected me to be using my education and skills in this manner.”

  Lily didn’t pursue the matter, and kept the historical conversation flowing.

  “I can hardly believe Virginia seceded. Now, part of it is another state. Have Virginians forgotten our great heritage? We were called the ‘birthplace of the nation.’ The first colonists landed here. Patrick Henry made his famous speech, and independence was won nearby. And think of all the heroes, even presidents, who have come from this state. Now, our glorious heritage has been darkened: the first horrific battle of this crazy war was fought on our soil; and probably the last one will be, too, from the way Lee and Grant are dug in near Petersburg. Being so close to Washington, my family didn’t experience isolation from the Union as the Deep South did. Because of that, and the fact of not owning slaves, my family had to side with the Union. So many of Father’s friends and business associates are Yankees; my older brother is married to a woman from Pennsylvania. You know, Lily, I went to stay with them after Tom left, but they had left Gettysburg and moved farther North, so I had to return home to wait out the war. Until Clarissa came for me.”

  Laura set aside her empty cup. “The North has more men, resources, railroads, ships, mills, and weapons-making ability to use against Dixie; so as surely as the sun rises every day, the South will be defeated and slavery will be abolished. I only wish the war could halt before the wounds and bitterness are so deep it will require years, if ever, to heal them. We can’t win, Lily, so why must the sufferings and sacrifices continue?”

  “Because the South isn’t broken yet and won’t give up until that happens,” Lily answered adamantly. “And—to hear our patrons talk—they don’t believe it ever will be.”

  “You’re right, Lily. And the Confederacy does have excellent officers and soldiers who have a great desire to protect their homes. And,” Laura added, “they have cotton, ‘King Cotton.’ Father told me the South furnishes most of the world’s supply, so the North and foreign countries must be in dire need of it by now. That’s why bales are destroyed before a town is captured. If only men would put away their pride and admit they’re wrong and this war is futile and costly, we could have peace before Christmas. I suppose that’s difficult when both sides believe they’re right, and the South does have many honest grievances.”

  Lily remarked, “At least we women have plenty of opportunities to prove our worth. Females are working in factories, running farms, defending their homes and children, assisting in hospitals, overseeing plantations, making weapons and ammunition, and doing countless other jobs men used to do before they marched off to war. In our case, we’re helping to end the war. We must protect you from harm, Laura, because I can’t enter certain places to gather information like you do and Clarissa did; I’m unacceptable in those social circles. Can’t you imagine one of our patron’s expressions if he saw me at one of those high-class events?”

  The two shared laughter before Laura said, “After the war ends, I’ll sell the Southern Paradise and you can come to Greenbriar with me. My brother Tom is unattached—and quite handsome!”

  “Get rid of that sparkle in those green eyes, because your brother wouldn’t be attracted to me, and he’s also five years younger than I am.”

  “Any man would be lucky to get you for a wife. You’re beautiful, smart, kind, brave, unselfish, and gentle. You’re a heroine, Lily Hart.”

  “No man would want me after learning about my past.”

  “Many women are being compelled to do desperate things during such hazardous times. Besides, why must you tell anyone what you had to do during the war? I’ll teach you all you need to know to fit into our lives.”

  Lily pushed aside a strayed pale-blond curl, hair several shades lighter than Laura’s. Her blue gaze dulled with sadness. “I can’t live a lie.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re both doing now?”

  “Yes, but it’s different. We aren’t close to our patrons, not like we’ll be close to a husband. When you fall in love, you’ll see what I mean. Trust and honesty are crucial to a strong and lasting relationship. What do you think about this Benjamin Simmons you meet with on Thursdays?”

  Laura let Lily change the subject. “He’s probably one of the few men who can decipher a message without using a code key like the one I have hidden in the cellar. He’s handsome, brave, and cunning, a true gentleman. But Ben has a sweetheart waiting for him in North Carolina. I’ll be glad when summer is over so it will get dark earlier in the evening; coming up with credible excuses for being out so late gets ever harder. Thank goodness I’ve never encountered the same guards more than once. You should have seen Ben’s face the first time I appeared to him in Clarissa’s place.”

  They chatted about their spying activities for a while before Laura said after a yawn, “It’s late and we’re tired, dear Lily, so we best get to bed.”

  Lily stood and gathered the tea tray. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Laura followed her to the door to the hotel, unlocked it, let Lily pass, and relocked it. She returned to her home and locked the second door to the lengthy passageway. Then she doused the lights and entered her bedroom.

  Cuddled in the bed, Laura’s mind drifted to thoughts of love, and marriage. She had never been in love—real love—or met any male she wanted to marry, though she had experienced an infatuation or two. What she wanted in a husband was strength tempered with gentleness, courage, and pride. She wanted to be his helpmate and partner, not his underling and servant.

  Laura wondered if she would ever find such a man, a good one like her father, and her two brothers. Would any southern gentleman, she fretted, want a woman for a wife who had helped defeat their “noble cause”? Would any Yankee male want an exsouthern belle? Would northern men consider her as lowly and untrustworthy because she had sided against her own people? Was it selfish to be thinking of herself and her future while the South was facing certain doom?

  The following day as Laura worked in the dining room preparing for the Friday evening meal, she heard the front desk bell ring. She laid aside the napkins and utensils and went
to answer it. Before going behind the desk which was situated near the door in the large foyer, she noticed a tall, dark-haired man standing in the parlor’s archway. She took her position at the counter and asked, “May I help you, sir?”

  She watched the stranger, clad in a dusty and rumpled Confederate uniform, turn and approach her. His jawline and the area above his upper lip were covered with a scraggly beard and mustache. The ebony hair that grazed broad shoulders was mussed and had a crease where his hat had been, a hat now grasped in his left hand by its wide brim. When he smiled, she noticed he had the bluest eyes and whitest teeth she had ever seen.

  “I’d like to rent a room for a few days if one’s available, ma’am.”

  Laura stared at him, so taken by his entrancing gaze and mellow voice that her wits scattered for a few moments.

  “Excuse me for arriving in such a sorry condition, ma’am, but it was a long ride and there was no place to make myself more presentable. As you can see, I’m in dire need of a bath, shave, and clean clothes. Can you provide a room and board and plenty of scrub water for a weary soldier?”

  Laura liked his humorous tone and grin, and his good manners. “The price for such amenities is two dollars a day, sir, in advance.”

  “That’s fine with me, ma’am.”

  She explained, “I’ve found it’s best to collect my fee before a guest loses his cash at our gaming tables or spends it elsewhere in town. We have three tables for such pleasures in the parlor behind you. Any drinks you desire are to be paid for when served. Breakfast is at seven, lunch at twelve, and dinner is at six. If you can’t be present at those times, tell someone here so a plate can be held for you. If you want a snack between meals, give one of my staff your order. We do have several rules which you must abide by during your stay: no crude or loud conduct, no cheating at the game tables, no cursing, no fighting, no drunkenness, and no offensive behavior toward my staff. I also request that you not waste lighting fuel or take more food than you can eat. As you know, we are at war and under a blockade, so supplies are hard to obtain and are expensive. Your cooperation and understanding in such matters will be appreciated.”