Defiant Hearts Page 20
Laura leapt from the bed, not even taking the few minutes needed to straighten the covers, fluff the telltale pillows, or pick up her discarded garments. She went into the water closet, bathed, and dressed in a rush. She hurried to the dining room where Lily was busy with her chores. It was fortunate that only three guests were registered and present, all sitting at the same table and being served by the angel-faced blonde. Laura smiled at Lily, spoke to the men, and went to the parlor to tie back the drapes to allow light and air to flow.
She noted that Belle and Cleo had tidied the parlor before leaving it last night. She was lucky to have those two, and especially Lily, Bertha, and Alvus. They never gave her a minute’s trouble and showed her affection and respect, as they had done with Clarissa, who was smart to have selected and trained them so well. None seemed to resent the fact Clarissa had left the place to her, and they appeared pleased with the way she ran the hotel.
For the first time since the war began, and in particular since Clarissa’s death, she felt happier, stronger, more optimistic and confident. She and Jayce were in love and planning to share a future, her family was safe for now, and peace was nearer.
She went upstairs to begin straightening the water closets and rooms, though Belle and Cleo would arrive soon to assist her with those tasks.
Lily joined her in the corridor and whispered, “You were late this morning, Laura. You never do that. Are you sick or just tired? Or were you testing me to see how I made out without you?”
“I wasn’t testing you, Lily. I’m fine, just lazy this morning; and incredibly I overslept. When I saw you had everything under control, I didn’t think it necessary to assist you. I’m proud of you, dear Lily, and I made a wise decision in changing your job.”
“I do like it, and like myself better. So far, none of the patrons have given me any trouble for not going upstairs with them.”
“I’m glad, and I doubt they will. If anyone does, he won’t be welcome here again. Well, I hear Belle and Cleo coming. Why don’t you take charge of them and the hotel today while I do a little cleaning at home?”
“Are you sure you think I can take care of everything?”
Laura grasped Lily’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I’m positive. But if you have a problem, just ring the bell for me.”
Laura went home to sweep and damp mop the floors, to dust the furniture, and to scrub the water closet. Though Lily was her best friend, she could not disclose to her what happened last night; it was too special, too personal to discuss. She resolved to continue helping Ben gather information, but she would not take any great risks to do so. She would seek facts which would help protect her father and brothers, but not go after those which would endanger Jayce near Petersburg. And she would keep a close watch on Frank Powell if he returned because she suspected he was the one who had told Grant what Jayce had said. That, she realized, would make Frank a Union spy. Was it possible? He certainly was in a position to learn some very important things about the Confederacy and its plans. But why would a southern politician side with the Union, a man from the Deep South?
What, she wondered as she placed Jayce’s cherished note in the book with the pressed flower, should she do if she discovered he was an agent? Expose him and prevent his information from harming Jayce? Or keep quiet and let him aid a Union victory and protect her family? That was a decision she could not make lightly or hastily.
In her room, she picked up her discarded gown and bloomers to wash later. She could hardly believe she—Miss Laura Adams—had slept naked and had made love to a man, one she had known for only five weeks! Even more incredible, she was looking forward to doing so again; next time, with a clear head. If that made her a terrible person, so be it, because she could not marry him during the war; to do so might endanger him if she were caught. Even if her family were not in peril and she could stop spying, she could be exposed for past actions.
As she pulled linens from the bed, she noticed a few smears of reddish brown, so she washed the sheets in her tub before anyone offered to do so and sighted the evidence of her intimate actions. She hung them outside to dry in the radiant sunshine, and returned to her labors and daydreams.
Later that day, Laura heard grim news about the fighting at Dutch Gap between Confederate General Beauregard and Union General Butler, in which the Rebels were rewarded with a triumph, as General Lee himself observed the action. Not even the Union gunboats’ shellings were a match or deterrent for their opponent’s big guns, Howitzers, and sharpshooters. It was said that Butler was trying to dig a canal in the James River bend to bypass the heavily fortified Drewry’s Bluff, using prisoners since he had heard Lee was doing the same with their captive men. The innocent Lee had made vehement protests, forcing Butler to halt the inhumane practice.
News also poured into the city about a second attack at Deep Bottom Run which began a week-long series of fierce fights, terminating in another Rebel victory. Hearing that some of the main action included several cavalry corps, Laura wondered if one was Jayce’s and prayed he remained safe.
Nine days later, Laura pored over the many newspapers that related various events since Jayce’s departure. She wished she knew which cavalry corps he was attached to so she would know if any of the reports applied to him. As she worried and read, she clipped articles to take to Ben this week.
She learned that General Lee was at church on the fourteenth when given news of a Union victory at Fussell’s Mill not far away. He had sent three generals to fight the Yankees, and Girarday had been killed in that ruckus. Jubal Early was “whipping Sherman” in the Valley. The Tallahassee had taken six schooners near New England. The Rebels were “holding back the Yanks” at Chaffin’s Bluff. On the sixteenth, the Tallahassee took five more ships near New England. The eighteenth had been plagued by heavy rain and oppressive heat when skirmishing near the Globe Tavern south of Petersburg resulted in a Union victory that took control of one mile of the Weldon Railroad tracks. While that battle was being fought, Grant had refused to exchange prisoners for the second time, explaining it would prolong the war to rebattle and recapture the same men.
Laura knew Union prisoners were suffering and their miseries would increase, as it was becoming “impossible for the Confederacy to feed, clothe, house, guard, and tend the wounds of so many Yankees when our own men are in great want of those things because of northern hostilities on southern soil.” She had heard it was as bad for Rebel captives in northern prisons. She hated to imagine the hardships and agonies those men were enduring, and prayed her family and Jayce would never become prisoners.
She put aside the newspapers for a while to rest her eyes and to let her mind have a reprieve from so much horrible information. She leaned her head on the sofa as she recalled her last rendezvous with Ben during which she had asked him to check on Frank Powell; it was then he had given her money to help with her expenses. She had divided the gold coins and hidden one pouch in the hotel cellar, in case she was exposed and had to flee in a rush to save her life, and the other in her chimney to protect part of it in the event cannon fire leveled the hotel. She didn’t want to imagine what would happen to her and her friends if they were left penniless and homeless.
She lifted the next newspaper on her stack and began to peruse it. On the nineteenth, Federals had suffered huge losses of men and arms when they were “stopped cold” south of Petersburg; they had retreated, but were still in control of the Weldon Railroad tracks they had taken earlier. On the twentieth, Union General Hancock had been forced to relinquish his ground on the north side of the James River southeast of Richmond. One article claimed President Davis was distressed over the Weldon’s loss, which traveled into North Carolina, and had ordered it be retaken fast.
She was dismayed when she learned Federals had burned Legareville, South Carolina; but she was just as disturbed by similar Rebel carnage over the Mason-Dixon Line. With her family reportedly in western Tennessee, Laura was frightened to learn that Rebels had
occupied Memphis for one day on the twenty-first, an event the North found “frustrating, demoralizing, and embarrassing.” She wondered if her father and brothers were with those retreaters or if they’d been assigned elsewhere. Perhaps Ben would have more—better—news for her at their next meeting.
Laura was amazed that one paper disclosed that an attempt to retake the Weldon tracks on another hot and rainy day had failed: Lee “had to accept the loss of the northern section of W RR, an invaluable supply line for Richmond and Petersburg.” Surely that revelation was in Grant’s hands by now, compliments of one of his spies and a reckless Richmond article.
With a grateful sigh her task was finished, Laura put away the packet for Ben, cleaned up the mess, and returned to the hotel to prepare for the midday meal.
At four o’clock, a special guest arrived from Georgia.
Laura smiled and said, “Welcome back, Major Stevens. How long will you be staying with us this time?”
“Only until tomorrow afternoon, Miss Carlisle. I guess you’ve heard by now, things are mighty hot and dangerous down our way.”
“Yes, and I hope you stay safe and well as you face what’s ahead. These are trying times for our men and their families. No, put away your money,” she told him as he reached into his pocket, “you’ll be our guest tonight. It’s the least we can do for a brave soldier and repeat patron. You’re in luck, one of our best rooms is empty and Mrs. Barton is serving a wonderful meal this evening. Make sure you don’t leave tomorrow before she can pack you some treats to take back with you. I’ll try to include enough to share with others.”
“You’re very kind, Miss Carlisle, a true patriot and angel. Thank you.”
Laura nodded acknowledgment and Richard followed her to the room across the hall from Lily’s.
Laura noticed the officer glanced at Lily’s door with a wishful expression in his eyes. Then she saw him smile to himself as if recalling his blissful encounter there weeks ago. She guided him inside and looked around as if making certain everything was in order. She handed him his key and said, “Enjoy your brief stay with us. Perhaps your next one can be longer and under better circumstances.”
“I hope so, ma’am. I’d like to see Miss Lily before I head out if she isn’t too busy.”
Laura forced herself not to reveal a smile of pleasure that Lily seemed to be his first priority. “She isn’t here, Major; she’s at the market for me.” She watched him hesitate before requesting, “I’d like to make…a private appointment with her for this evening. For the entire evening, if she’s available.”
Richard’s likably shy manner gave Laura the spunk and opportunity to disclose, “I’m afraid she isn’t, sir.” She noted his sad look and sigh of disappointment before she divulged, “Lily no longer takes private appointments. She stopped doing that after your last visit.” She saw his gaze brighten with surprise and joy; then he frowned.
“I hope it wasn’t anything I said or did to…upset her.”
Laura sent him a sunny smile. “Frankly, Major Stevens, I think and hope it was, and I’m grateful to you for having that good effect on her. Often in wartimes, women—especially those on their own—are forced to do things they despise because they have no other choice.”
“I’m sure that’s true, Miss Carlisle; I’m glad Miss Lily is working for you; she’s a kind and good woman.”
Laura was convinced he meant the first part of his last sentence; the final part of it elated her since he looked so relieved. “Lily is my best friend and a valuable employee, but she’s free to select her own companions. I’m certain she’ll be delighted to see you again.”
“When she returns, please tell her I’ll see her at supper. If she’s not too busy tonight and she’s willing, maybe we can sit on the porch and talk or take a stroll. I really enjoy her company and conversation.”
Was it possible, Laura mused, that Richard could overlook Lily’s past and intended to court her? “I’ll make sure she gets your message the moment she’s back.”
At nine o’clock while Belle and Cleo served her guests downstairs, Laura slipped into Room 2 to observe the couple who had gone to the second-floor porch and was standing on one end of it in the romantic glow of a full moon. She prayed she hadn’t done the wrong thing by steering Richard toward her friend and for trying to convince Lily to pursue the interested man. She concealed herself near the open window to listen for a while, as she might judge Richard’s feelings and intentions better than the dreamy-eyed Lily who was nervous but heartened at the major’s attention.
Before Richard’s return to the hotel, Laura had loaned Lily one of her prettiest dresses, as they were the same size. She had dabbed some of her perfume on Lily’s throat and wrists, and had helped Lily arrange her pale-blond hair in a flattering and feminine style. She had advised Lily on how to behave as the lady and elite employee she was now. She wanted Lily to experience the same kind of powerful love she had found with Jayce Storm. She almost flinched as she overheard Richard’s impolite and accusatory question.
“How did a gentle woman like you get into that kind of work?”
Laura was surprised when Lily didn’t take offense and flee him, and instead related her sad history, only leaving out that she was a Northerner.
Richard responded, “I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard and long go of it, Miss Lily. Only a no-account man would do such a vile thing to a wonderful woman like you. It’s good you didn’t end up with him. If I may say so, Miss Lily, I can see why you took a wrong turn afterward. You deserve a better life, and I’m glad Miss Carlisle is helping you find it. Do you ever want a husband, home, and children?”
Laura’s anger vanished, and she warmed toward the man who looked and sounded so tender-hearted and genuine.
“Yes, I do, but no man of worth would want a woman like me.”
Laura watched Richard grasp Lily’s hand and pull her around to face him. There was sufficient light from the full moon and its angle for her to see moisture glittering in Lily’s eyes and on her lashes, and she had heard the near-anguish in her friend’s voice. She reasoned that those things had to be noticeable and their meaning clear to him. Laura’s eyes almost filled with tears of joy when she witnessed Richard’s behavior.
“I do, Lily, and I’m a man of worth, aren’t I?”
Laura noted he had dropped the Miss now. His tone sounded choked with emotion, and he caressed Lily’s cheek with gentleness.
“What?” Lily asked, as if afraid to believe her ears.
“I love you and want you, Lily, and I don’t mean like before. I mean, as my wife one day when this damned war is over.”
“But I’m unworthy of you, Richard.”
Laura smiled as Lily used his first name and with great feeling.
“That isn’t true, Lily. Besides, the past is past, and I won’t ever hold it against you, I promise. Look at it this way: if we hadna spent those times together, I wouldna learned how special you are. Wait for me until the war’s over, please, if I make it through alive and as a whole man. Things are looking bad around Atlanta. Sherman’s pressing us hard, even if his troops did fail to destroy General Hood’s supply line this morning; I got that good news this afternoon. I came here to request—no, to beg for—more men, arms, and horses; we need them badly. I have to leave tomorrow, but I don’t want to go until I know you’ll be waiting for me.”
After a short period of silence, Richard asked, “You don’t feel the same way about me, is that it?”
“I love you and want you, Richard. I just want to make sure you’re thinking clearly.”
“I swear to you my head’s clear, as clear as it can be when I’m looking at you and touching you and shaking in my boots hoping you feel the same.”
“I do, Richard, honestly I do.”
As they embraced and kissed, Laura smiled in elation, took a deep breath of relief, and left them to each other.
Four days later, word came that Fort Morgan had fallen to the Union on Tuesday, but the cit
y of Mobile was still holding out against their attack. Two pieces of news were reported about President Lincoln: he was worried over losing a reelection, and he had requested that politician and editor Henry Raymond seek a meeting with President Davis to discuss peace.
Laura thought peace could not come fast enough to suit her and to put an end to tragedies occurring in all southern states, despite the Union’s successful advances everywhere.
Her somber mood, partly caused from worries over her family and Jayce, did not brighten when Frank Powell registered that day. For a man who had crossed enemy lines twice in a short time span—while allegedly en route to and from the heart of Alabama, a state under heavy Union assault—Frank did not boast about his daring deed, or relate any colorful stories about his perilous adventure, or tell her any news about the fierce fighting there. For a man with his previously displayed conceit, those omissions made her even more suspicious of him, as did his ensuing action the moment he was alone and unaware he was being observed…
“We have to hurry, Lily,” Laura urged; “we don’t know how far he went or how long he’ll be away. Keep an eye out for his return while I see what he concealed behind the firescreen.” That was the provocative clue she had learned by watching him from Room C after he entered Room 1 next door.
Lily took a position at the front window overlooking the street and guarding the only entrance to the hotel, as no one was allowed to come in or leave by the kitchen door. “Go ahead,” she whispered without turning.
Laura was astonished by what she found in the hidden bag: a Union and a Confederate cipher key, which in itself wasn’t an incriminating factor, since a genuine agent would need both to decipher enemy messages and encipher those to his contact. Detailed notes about important men, sites, and events and reports ready to be encoded and delivered to both sides.