Lacewood, p.25
Lacewood, page 25
“May I help you find someone?”
“No.” Annie was at first taken aback by the soldier’s youth, and his disheveled appearance, but the wisdom and warmth glowing in his pale blue eyes made her reconsider. “Well, perhaps...yes. I’m looking for my brother. He was wounded...and I’ve been searching...”
Annie suddenly lost her ability to speak. She’d been traveling for three weeks, and had repeated these same words hundreds of times. Some people were helpful. Most had turned their backs. None had been able to help her locate the man for whom she’d been searching. The lack of sleep, scarcity of food, and worry about her only sibling, all hit her with a sudden, overwhelming wave of anguish. She dropped the small bag and put her hands to her face to hide the tears chasing each other down her cheeks.
“There. There, miss.” The young man spoke while squeezing her shoulder awkwardly. “None of that now.”
“I have to find him.” She tried to suck in enough air to talk. “I’ve been searching, and I can’t—”
“Well you’re in New Hope now.” The soldier gestured toward a sign hanging over the loading platform. “We’ll just see if we can’t find you some.” He took her by the arm. “Come under the roof and get out of the rain.”
It was only then that Annie realized raindrops were hanging on her eyelashes, mixing with her tears. Still, she hesitated to follow him. “No. You don’t understand.”
“I understand it’s raining,” he replied with a light-hearted grin. “And we’re both getting wet. What else is there?”
“He’s a Union soldier.”
Annie watched his smile fade, as she knew it would—as she had seen smiles wane on so many other faces in Virginia after revealing her secret. No more words were spoken, but she detected a sheen of disappointment in his eyes.
Swallowing hard and trying to muster her courage and confidence, Annie pretended to be indifferent to his change in character. “I was told he might be here. That there is a hospital here with some wounded prisoners among them.”
He nodded slowly, as if deep in thought. “Yes, ma’am. They’re holding some prisoners at the church.”
“If you would be so kind as to point me in the right direction,” Annie prodded when he made no effort to elaborate on where the church might be located. She bent down and picked up the satchel to prove her determination—and help bolster her own confidence.
The young man seemed unsure of what to do as he gazed pensively over her shoulder, but finally he swept his eyes back to meet hers. “It’s raining, miss. It’d be faster if I take you there.” He made a swooping gesture and waited for her to walk in front of him.
Judging from the soldier’s appearance, Annie did not expect to be escorted in an extravagant carriage. But what she found waiting for her more closely resembled a covered supply wagon than any sort of conveyance for ladies. Even though she was accustomed to a much finer means of transportation, she was too exhausted to care. She was grateful to be, for the most part, out of the rain.
Still, she didn’t wish to take advantage of the soldier’s generosity or get him in trouble with his superiors. “Is it far?” she asked as he helped her in. “I don’t wish to inconvenience you.”
“It’s not too far, miss.”
He held out his hand and helped her into the wagon with an arm that revealed enormous hidden strength.
“This is very kind of you,” Annie said, trying to make conversation. “I’m Annie Logan, by the way.”
He tipped his hat. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Annie.”
He didn’t reveal his own name, and he didn’t seem inclined to make further conversation. Annie wasn’t surprised. She’d learned a lot so far on her journey through the South, and had received even more of an education on the train. The cars had been crowded with Confederate soldiers—some returning home with terrible injuries, others on furlough to visit their families. All of them were respectful to her, but none seemed inclined to speak kindly of their northern brethren.
Annie had borne up under the dangers and hardships she faced so far, but if her brother was not here—after all she had suffered—it would be too much to withstand. Traveling by herself for the first time in her eighteen years, she had never felt more utterly desolate and alone. Already the day seemed of unnatural length, and she still had hours of unknowns ahead.
The smell of the place where they were heading reached Annie before the sight of the stone structure did. Confederate soldiers milled around tents set up on both sides of the building, and the distinct buzz of flies emanated from a particular spot to the rear. Annie closed her eyes and prayed her brother was here—at the same time half-hoping he wasn’t.
Nestled in a picturesque grove of mature oaks and pines, the stone structure would have prompted a pleasant response under different circumstances. Buds appeared ready to burst on the sprawling trees, creating a natural canopy from the rain. A sizeable patch of wildflowers flowed like a river over the rocks and crevices that lined the road, while clumps of daffodils dotted the churchyard.
Some of the men in the tents saluted the young man as he tied off the reins, but he didn’t seem to take notice. “Do you have any experience with children?” The question came abruptly as he turned his head to face her.
“I beg your pardon?” Annie’s thoughts were engaged in trying to ignore the unavoidable stench of death hanging heavy in the air.
“Children, miss.” His cheeks were red with suppressed emotion, but he met her gaze directly.
“I suppose. Why do you ask?”
He cleared his throat. “My brother...his wife died...and she left a little one.”
Annie’s heart sank at the look on the young man’s face. It was a mixture of hope, despair, and intense anxiety.
“I intend to go back to the lines as soon as I can—to be with my brother,” he said earnestly. “But there’s no one left to take care of his little girl.” He didn’t give her time to refuse. “She wouldn’t be much trouble. And if your brother is here, he’d be better off in a private home than here.”
In her weariness and anxiety, it took a moment for Annie to understand what he was proposing. This stranger was offering to take her brother to his family home in exchange for her help in caring for a young child. Yet if her brother were here—wounded in battle, it could well have been by this man’s hand. The thought created a twinge of pain in her heart.
He seemed in earnest, but Annie did not answer right away. She dared not raise her hopes that Benjamin was even here. She’d been disappointed too many times before.
“Luke. I heard you were back. What brings you this way, my boy?”
A rough-looking man with a barrel chest strode up to the wagon and stood with feet spread, arms crossed, scrutinizing Annie even as he talked to the man beside her. His manner was menacing—and so were his eyes.
“I’m searching for my brother.” Annie answered the question, even though his threatening posture caused her insides to tremble. It appeared he had not bothered to shave for at least a week, or bathe for even longer, and he had the pinched countenance one would associate with a sick or angry person.
“Sorry to disappoint, but there’s only a couple dozen bluebellies left here. And they’re being shipped South tomorrow.”
Annie jumped out of the wagon. “No!”
Ignoring all attempts to stop her, she ran into the church, pausing only long enough to lean over each man she came across. Some lay on the bare floor, others on straw pallets and pews—and a few sat propped against the wall of the church, cradling bloody arms and hands. They barely reacted to her presence as they silently awaited their fate.
“Ben. Ben! It’s Annie. Are you here?”
As Annie passed between the stretchers, flies rose up from their meals, revealing unspeakable horrors. She paused when a soft moan reached her ears, then ran to a pew bathed in shimmering rays of light streaming through a stained glass window.
“Benjamin? Can you hear me?”
The sandy-haired boy answered with another moan, but she could tell he knew she was there.
“Ben, I’ve come to take care of you.” Annie laid her head on his chest, and then held his face in her hands. Her brother never opened his eyes, but she saw evidence of a slight smile.
“Now don’t go telling him lies.” A figure moved between Annie and the window, casting an ominous shadow over them both. “I’m Corporal Jenkins, and I’m in charge around here. You won’t be taking care of this fella or any of the others.”
Annie looked up into the hard, pitiless face. “Like I said, they’re heading to Richmond tomorrow.” He puffed out his chest and then crossed his arms. “To prison, where they belong.”
Before Annie could argue or plead, the young man named Luke spoke.
“I beg your pardon, but this lady has agreed to come with me and take care of Captain Wescott’s child. Her brother is part of the arrangement. We’ve already reached a deal on the matter.”
The brash grin disappeared from the man’s face in an instant, and his menacing scrutiny turned to Annie. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so.” Annie did not hesitate, and did not flinch from the man’s penetrating scrutiny. She dared not look at Luke, fearing her expression would reveal both her torment and relief. “Yes, it is so,” she repeated under her breath, to assure herself she was doing the right thing. One more glance at her brother’s pale face convinced her.
The man’s indignant gaze swooped over to Luke. “Captain Wescott has agreed to let a Yankee in his house?” He sounded incredulous as his attention shifted to the injured man on the pew. “Two Yankees?”
“He is waiting for me to return to his unit,” Luke said to punctuate the agreement. “He knows the war won’t last much longer, but he needs someone to care for his little girl.”
Annie’s first impression of Luke was that he was close to her age. But when he spoke with such confidence, she changed her mind. Presented with a problem, he’d quickly settled on a solution that helped them both. He was much wiser than his young face would attest.
“No more delaying,” Luke said with authority. “We’re going to need another hand to get this man into my wagon.”
Annie’s legs trembled with fear as the corporal’s eyes narrowed to mere slits and appeared to glow with rage. But after beckoning for two soldiers to help move Benjamin, he said nothing more.
Out of breath with relief and excitement, Annie walked beside her brother’s prone body as they loaded him into the wagon. “You’re going someplace nice, Benjamin. Just hold on.”
Annie inhaled slowly and prayed it would be someplace nice. Judging from the clothes on the young man, the condition of the horses, and the age of the wagon, she wasn’t expecting anything extravagant. But anything would be cleaner and safer than being with the man who took such liberties with his eyes and displayed such rage and resentment.
Luke slapped the reins and the horses moved slowly forward. “I’m sorry about that, miss,” he said over his shoulder as she held Benjamin’s hand.
“No need to be sorry.” Annie glanced at her brother’s pale face, and the blood-soaked blanket where his leg should have been. “I will be forever indebted.”
She grew silent then, wondering about the little girl for whom she’d be caring. But the exhaustion, the relief, the strain, and the joy of finding her brother left her unable to hold her mind steady. She concentrated instead on keeping her heavy eyes from closing, and for preparing herself for what was to come.
If circumstances overtake me, they shall yet not overwhelm me. I must have faith.
The wagon turned onto a side road and then traveled over a winding path that sometimes disappeared into a canopy of trees, and sometimes snaked through open fields. As they approached the crest of another hill, Annie heard the man sigh.
She assumed this small indication of relief was due to the rain having moved away. A glorious sunset now replaced the dreary skies, lighting the remaining clouds from within and casting spectacular rays upon the rolling hills and beyond.
In the distance, a wide stream ran between green fields on the one side and lovely, undulating forests on the other. Despite the uncertainty of her circumstances, Annie delighted in the early spring flowers splashing their colors across the fields with their blooms. Tulips lifted their tender heads along the lane, and golden daffodils flowed across the emerald hills. She turned toward the west and focused on the sun as its glowing face dipped below the tree line, creating new vistas of shadow and light.
“We’re home.” The horses came to a stop.
Annie turned slowly, not certain if she was prepared for what she would find.
She wasn’t.
“This is where we’re going?” She glanced up at the man. “This is your home?”
“Yes, ma’am. Welcome to Lacewood.”
Chapter 32
ANNIE GRITTED HER TEETH against the exhaustion consuming her and swirled the soiled bed dressings in the boiling pot of water with a big stick. Day after day the burning sun trudged across the sky with no generous clouds or gentle breeze to break its impact. The air was so calm, so still, she wondered how human life could endure it.
Swiping at the sweat rolling down her cheek with one hand, Annie took a moment to peek at the child still sleeping in the shade on the porch. She smiled at the angelic face of the eighteen-month-old and then returned to her work.
Annie had only been at Lacewood a few weeks, but circumstances necessitated a strict routine from the beginning. Her duties were many and varied and left her too exhausted to think about anything but the next task until she lay down in bed at night.
Luke had left two days after Annie arrived and took the last of the horses with him. At barely eighteen, Annie was now trying to procure supplies for a household she knew nothing about. All of this in addition to caring for a child and trying to nurse her own brother back to health. The endless duties taxed her strength and thoughts, giving her no time to dwell on the turmoil surrounding her or her brother’s desperate condition.
Upon her arrival, Annie barely had time to get off a note to her Aunt Chloe in New York to tell her she’d found Benjamin. After traveling nearly a month in this strange land—surrounded by strangers, and in the middle of war—she felt obligated to tell their only remaining relative how they were faring.
Annie tried to present an accurate picture of their new abode for her aunt—but its magnificence was almost beyond her ability to portray. The first time she laid eyes on it, the sinking sun was pouring its vivid glamour over the house and grounds, as if painting a special portrait just for her.
She’d wanted Benjamin to wake up and witness the summit of the distant hills blazing with color after the desolate conditions through which they’d traveled. Rich amber and violet lit the sky until the sinking sun comingled the colors into a sea of deepest, purest, transparent rose. Even Luke had commented on the magical sight, saying he hoped it was a good omen for Ben.
Although the work was hard and the days were long, Annie was both humbled and comforted by the lavish splendor that surrounded her.
All this she owed to the hospitality of Captain Jonathon Wescott, a man she had heard about but not yet met. Annie’s gaze drifted again to his daughter, Isabella. She was a delightful child, not the least bit fussy, and possessed enchanting sapphire eyes that displayed curiosity and interest in everything around her.
Annie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The sun was far from setting now. Its cruel, merciless rays stabbed her from behind, while the boiling water blazed like a great furnace in front of her. As much as she hated to admit it, Ben was not improving. What remained of his leg appeared red and grisly, and his fever still burned.
Pulling the linens out of the pot, Annie maneuvered them onto a line where the sun would dry them in no time. At least her brother would have a clean bed to sleep upon tonight.
The thought of providing needed comfort caused Annie such immense satisfaction that she began to hum. Perhaps she would take Isabella to the orchard when she awoke and pick fresh peaches. According to Luke, some trees on the other side of the garden still bore fruit.
As she threw the remaining bandages into the pot to soak, Annie heard a rustling in the trees bordering the far side of the yard. She turned just in time to see a band of Confederate soldiers emerge from the thick foliage and ride into a sparkling pool of light on the lawn. The image they created was one of mist and magic, sunlight and shadow, so spectacular—and frightening—that Annie thought she must be dreaming.
Her eyes were drawn instantly to the rider in the middle, a man who topped the tallest by half a head. Annie stood frozen with a mixture of panic and awe as he dismounted and wordlessly handed his reins to another soldier. Standing erect as an oak tree, with shoulders well thrown back, he walked toward her with a bold, dauntless step, moving waist-deep through a boiling, shimmering wave of heat. Distance lost all meaning in the sun’s stabbing glare, and time stood still.
Annie could not move. She stared at him with blank astonishment, as if he were some sort of mystical battle god who had arisen from the earth.
“Don’t be afraid, miss. I am Captain Wescott.”
It took a moment for Annie to grasp the significance of the name, but even after she did, she could not speak. She gazed into the bluest eyes she had ever seen, trying to make sense of the scene playing out around her. She glanced back toward the tree line, where at least a dozen riders remained in the shade, silent and watchful, and wondered how they had approached without making a sound.
“My brother told me you were here, Miss Logan. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He did not seem to drop his guard and focus attention on her until she began to speak, and even then his restless eyes were busy, taking in every inch of the scene in front of him.
“My pleasure, Captain Wescott.”
Annie’s voice wavered somewhat. For some reason she had pictured the mysterious owner of the property as being far more advanced in years. Silver-haired perhaps, and with a wider girth. This man was all sinew and strength and did not appear to be yet thirty. Yet she could see in his features and his stance a close resemblance to the young man who brought her here.
