Love Story on Canal

by Angela Lee

  Pan forced her hand to still, “He’s a handyman; he did some work at the orphanage. I thought perhaps he might be able to help with some projects at the new home.”

  “Work opportunities are usually good news,” Alex said clearly reading through her lie.

  “There you are Pan,” Hebe’s drawl interrupted Alex’s interrogation; Pan could have hugged Hebe for her timing. Her curvy friend gave Alex a bored look and greeted him, “Alex.”

  “Peach,” Alex returned the dry greeting. Hebe rolled her eyes.

  “Ready?” Hebe pulled Pan’s arm.

  “For what?”

  “For tea of course. You have to have a bridal tea,” Hebe said with a wink as she pulled Pan down the street. “Alex, tell Fin I’ve claimed her,” she called ruefully over her shoulder.

  Walking briskly to keep pace with the petite woman’s unusually swift walk, Pan muttered with a shiver, “Bridal tea? Should I have known?” Pan whispered.

  “Surprise,” Hebe chuckled. “It was the first thing that came to mind. Alex is a dog with a bone when he’s curious. And shrewd to boot. You looked in need of rescue. How do you know the Irishman?” Hebe said without slackening her pace. She rounded the corner making her way through the alleyway behind the shops with an unnatural familiarity.

  “Just a handyman from the orphanage,” Pan said flippantly. Hebe finally stopped her near run in the middle of the empty alleyway. She turned with ferocity and halted Pan with a look.

  “You are a bad liar. The Villeres will devour you. Why are you acquainted with a man from the Irish Channel?”

  Pan was stunned. Hebe was more observant and intelligent than she had realized. She wondered if anyone realized. “There is nothing nefarious about it. He is a handyman from the home. His wife recently had a baby. I’ve treated them both. That is all.”

  “Pan listen to me. Everything you do, everyone you associate with is going to be scrutinized by that family. Because of Fin’s campaign; just because of who the Villeres are,” she lowered her voice though the alley still remained empty. “If you are connected to an Irishman, to anyone, with ties to rebellion, they’ll find out. I don’t know how they’ll respond, what they’ll do. Family and respectability are priorities in a Creole home. Fin will try to protect you, but the rest of them, they will be trying to protect him and their name. Be careful.”

  Pan lied with sincerity, not wanting to lose the only friend she had made in New Orleans, “Hebe, I’m not involved in rebellion.”

  “I know that, ninny,” the little woman laughed and changed topics quickly as was her tendency, “Tea?”

  “I hate tea.”

  “Me too. So not tea then?”

  Pan laughed and asked, “What is not tea?”

  “Something daring,” her friend answered with a wink.

  Pan considered it a moment. She really needed to do something about the information she had gotten from Mr. Byrne. As of tomorrow, her bridal seclusion would begin. Three days of being locked in her home, as was tradition. She decided to come up with a plan later. Pan looked at her friend and smiled, “Alright, let’s be daring.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Weathers, that cousin of yours picked another fight with my patrol. I’m beginning to doubt that leniency was in order when he was released from capture,” the blustering General was in a fit this morning.

  “We paid a hefty sum for that release,” Fin muttered. Louder he said, “My cousin joined the army on a whim. He’s not a secessionist, he’s impulsive. The Villere family has openly committed to the Union. This last incident, well, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Damned Alex. What was going on with him? It was two days before his wedding, and Fin had better things to do than sit here defending his cousin’s reckless actions.

  “Weathers we both know that your opponent doesn’t have much of a chance. With Villere’s actions and some of the rumors that are starting to circulate about you, I’m beginning to doubt your loyalty. I’m starting to think that it might be necessary to freeze the current council, or perhaps bypass the election and appoint one of my officers to the position,” Burns said shrewdly.

  Fin fought to keep his outrage in check, “That’s not legal.”

  “This is not a free state. Louisiana has seceded from the Union. New Orleans is under Union military control, which means you have no actual state’s rights. It’s well within my power to make all government decisions,” The general’s cheeks were red from the heat and perhaps his anger, aside from that the man’s face was devoid of emotion.

  “General, you want a cooperative city. Taking complete power from the citizens won’t earn you their support. Don’t close the elections,” Fin was interrupted by a knock to the closed office door.

  Two soldiers stepped forward pushing a woman inside, “Excuse us, General. You said to bring you the baker woman when we caught her.” Fin looked up and jumped out of his seat when he realized that the woman, they had brought in was Pan. He yanked her from the soldier’s grasp and stepped into the man’s space, standing nose to nose.

  “Weathers! Stand down!” The general barked the command as he stood up, a brief look of surprise crossed his face as his eyes landed on the woman in front of him and Weathers’ reaction. Fin had not changed his stance and continued to stare daggers at the young soldier.

  Burns spoke directly to Pan, “Miss Fontenot, this is the second time you have been brought to my office having been mistaken for the baker woman.”

  “Of course, she’s not the damned baker woman!” Fin roared turning toward the older man. Pan stood silently, chin up in defiance.

  “Sergeant, explain,” commanded the General moving his sharp gaze to the soldier at her side.

  “Sir, we caught her walking up the stairs to the second floor,” the young soldier offered in a rush. The General grunted and turned his attention back to Pan as he walked around his desk to stand in front of her. He seemed to fully take her in, noting the quality of her clothing, the bag in her hands, what remained of her morning’s simply styled coiffure.

  “Inside the Customs House?” he asked the Sergeant who nodded. Then to the lady, “Miss Fontenot, surely you are not still lost and looking for the post?”

  “Dr. Fontenot,” Fin corrected. “This is absurd release her!”

  Burns face showed some surprise at the title, “Dr. Fontenot then. As we have previously established, you are not the baker. But you are in a restricted area, a federal prison no less, without permission. Why?”

  “I was delivering rosaries to the prisoners.” She produced a set of prayer beads from her pocket as proof.

  The general watched her silently for a moment as if waiting for her to fidget or give some other tell. Pan met his gaze with her own; reminding Fin of an impatient teacher waiting for an unruly child to recognize her authority. She had yet to look at Fin.

  Fin, however, could not take his eyes from the brave, stupid, woman. “Prisoners? Rosaries! Release her. What in the hell is happening? This is ridiculous.” He directed the angry demand at the man in charge, who in return raised a stilling hand.

  The sergeant pushed forward with a full sack of what looked to be bread and removed her medical bag from her hands. “Sir, she had these with her as well.” Burns walked over to look through her Gladstone bag and the bag of bread. Fin peered over as well, though he already knew what her medicine bag held.

  “For Christ’s sake, Burns. She’s a doctor. It’s her medicine bag,” Fin cried in frustration.

  Burns continued speaking to the woman under arrest, “I see. Not just a religious visit then.” He stated then cleared his throat. He turned and walked back around the desk and redeposited himself in his chair. “There are strict rules governing all citizens, Dr. Fontenot. Those rules are there for your safety.”

  “I assure you, sir, I am perfectly safe handing out bread, prayer beads, and bandages,” Pan answered.

  “You baked this bread?” he asked. What was so damned important abo
ut that bread?

  “No. Nor did I make the rosaries. I purchased them both.”

  Fin suspected that Burns was fishing for other names; Pan was offering none. “Miss Fontenot, you are sneaking into a federal prison to treat war prisoners. President Lincoln considers assisting rebels an act of treason,” he asserted.

  “Sir, I feed and heal the sick and the poor. Those men are not plotting rebellion. They are merely trying to survive their incarceration. Certainly, President Lincoln would not consider medical aid a treasonous act?”

  The man opened the left side drawer of his desk, reached in and pulled out a small leather covered notebook, “Ms. Fontenot, do you know what this is?”

  Fin tilted his head curiously before turning to look at Pan. Her face had lost all color, aside from that her expression had not changed, “I do.”

  “Still just bringing bread and bandages then?” the Union commander snarled.

  “No,” she said quietly. “Not just bread and bandages.”

  Fin closed his eyes in silent dread, “Pan, it’s best if you stop talking. Let me bring in an attorney. Let me get some help.” He faced her and willed her to be silent.

  She shook her head at him with a sad smile before saying to Burns, “Prayers are offered for the families of those incarcerated.”

  Burns laughed incredulously, “You expect me to believe that rather than espionage, this is some sort of…”

  “Prayer list, yes,” she finished steadily.

  “Would you be surprised to learn that several of the names on your prayer list are already under scrutiny for suspected rebellion? Ian Byrne for one.”

  “That has nothing to do with me or that book.”

  “Perhaps not, but I take it you have met with the people in this book. Know them. Perhaps you can provide some insight as to their activities. I’d also like to know where you procure the bread.”

  “I have already explained the book. I’ll not implicate anyone else in my actions or relay information for you to twist into something nefarious,” Pan answered rigidly.

  Fin rolled his eyes heavenward in frustration. “She doesn’t know a damn thing about rebellion,” he murmured. She stood silent, resolved.

  “Madame, I respect your father. Obviously, you are an of acquaintance of Mr. Weathers, who is also a respected citizen. If you can prove that your actions are indeed innocent, I will give you leave today with your final warning. You will adhere to curfew and the boundaries that are in place or you will be arrested.” Pan’s mouth formed a terse line. The man sighed, “If you will not disprove my theory that this book is evidence of foul play, secreting information about rebel actions, I will have no choice but to place you under arrest and have the sergeant escort you to a cell.”

  Fin jumped in front of her yet again, ready to take on all the men in the room. “I’ll handle this. Call your man off,” Fin stormed. “Release her. General this is absurd. She’s a doctor, not a damned rebel.”

  “You say so, Weathers. All proof indicates differently. How can you possibly handle this? Obviously, you don’t know this woman as well as you think. Sergeant, escort Dr. Fontenot to a woman’s quarter.”

  “No!” Fin roared. He swung at the first soldier.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Bile was building in Pan’s throat; the room was in pandemonium. Fin was brawling with the two soldiers who had found her on the stairs. The General was shouting for more guards. Stupid, she had been so stupid to have come here on a day they had not agreed on.

  She had sent Tom ahead with a message for Hicks. She had mentally crafted a flawless plan of sneaking out of her house and coming to check on Hicks and Madison. When Tom hadn’t returned after ten minutes, she had entered on her own. Terror that she had sent the child in to be captured was her only justification for such impetuous actions. She had made it to the first stairwell undetected, but the two guards who had found her were already coming down the stairs.

  “Dr. Pan, I’ll make sure you are safe,” a voice said into her ear. She looked over her shoulder and saw a worried Corporal Hicks.

  “Take that woman to a cell, Corporal.” the general barked. When Hicks looked like he would resist, Pan set a quick pace in exiting the room. Hicks followed her but did not restrain her in any way.

  “Quickly,” Pan whispered. “I don’t want him to fight you, too. I don’t want any of this.”

  “We’ll go to the third floor. That’s where women are kept. There aren’t many. I’ll keep you safe. I can’t believe this happened,” Hicks said helplessly.

  She climbed the stairs as fast as she could. The higher they climbed, the more stifling and hot the air became. Stepping onto the third-floor hallway, Pan looked desperately for a waste bin. Spotting a mop bucket, she rested her hand along the wall and bent over it clutching her waist, certain she would be sick at any moment.

  She felt a cool cloth touch the back of her neck. Hicks’ concerned voice met her ears, “Take a few breaths, ma’am.” She reached her gloved hand to dry the sweat dampening her forehead as Hicks continued to speak, “I’ll do everything I can to ensure your release.”

  Clearing her throat, she straightened and adjusted her clothing. She looked back at the soldier, touched by his intention but knowing he could not possibly have any power in this case, “Thank you, Corporal. Do not draw attention to yourself on my behalf. I made these choices. You’ve done enough. I am ready.”

  Hicks led her down a silent hallway. He opened a door to an empty room. Unlike the men’s quarters, this room was clean and outfitted. A stretcher with clean linens was pressed against a wall. A small writing table and chair were in a corner. In the opposite corner was a wash basin and chamber pot. Pan was shocked at how drastic the differences were between the men’s and women’s quarters.

  She had waited until she was confident that no one would hear before she asked, “Tom?”

  “He made it out without being detected. That’s why it took me so long to come to the office. Why did you enter the prison without me? We agreed you would always wait for one of us to escort you.”

  “I sent Tom ahead to find you. I got impatient and feared the worst. Although, in hindsight, I’m not sure what I planned to do.” Pan shook her head at her own stupidity. “I had heard that soldiers were questioning families. I worried that you and Corporal Madison had been compromised. I needed to know that you were safe. I worried Tom had been caught.” Pan felt relieved that Tom had escaped the building, confident he would make it back to the orphanage safely.

  Hicks continued, “Anyone who had duty has been questioned. I don’t think they suspect us.”

  Pan asked, “How many women prisoners are here?”

  “Not many. Most are in a common room like the men.”

  “Take me there, then.”

  “I can’t. They’ll want to question you,” he looked away embarrassed, “Alone.”

  “I see,” Pan answered, not certain that she did understand.

  “I’ll be right outside. I’ll stay as long as I can. I won’t let them harm you,” Hicks said as he pulled the door closed.

  Alone Pan sat at the edge and dropped her face to her hands. Hours passed and no one had come to question her. The writing desk proved a worthless distraction as it was not outfitted with any paper or writing utensils, not even a book to occupy her as she waited. Her mind had taken to creating the scenarios of her interrogation; each time the episode become more and more graphic.

  In other moments her mind reverted to the shock on Fin’s face. Now he knew. And now she knew how painful it would feel to lose him. The sound of the lock turning brought her upright. She stood up ready to defend herself if necessary.

  Shock consumed her when Fin walked into the room followed by a guard, not Hicks. His face was covered in the ugly purple of new bruises, his hair and clothing disheveled. Dried blood trailed from his nose and stained his collar. Pan glanced at his hands, noting the torn skin across his knuckles. An involuntary cry escaped her at the s
ight of him. He walked to her and brought her into his arms, rubbing her back with one hand while cradling Pan’s head with the other. Pan buried her face into his coat. The guard behind them cleared his throat.

  Without releasing her, Fin called over his shoulder “You searched me yourself, I have no weapons. You need not stay in the room while I talk with my fiancé.” An awkward silence followed before Pan heard retreating boots and a door closing. “Belle, what the hell just happened? What were you doing?”

  Pan attempted to pull her arms free, but Fin refused to release her. “Fin, why are you here? You were in the room. Did you not hear the conversation?”

  “Belle, where else would I be? I’m trying to make sense of everything. Why were you in the prison? How did you even know this was a prison? I didn’t. Why? Help me understand this.”

  “I told you that I would hurt your campaign. Being aligned with me would have consequences. Did you hear Burns? This is treason. I am sorry, so sorry. I should have stood my ground and stayed away from you. It is better you don’t know anything else. Don’t ask me for details. For God’s sake, distance yourself from me. Better if you go back to Burns and apologize, make light of your connection with me. Call it an infatuation, nothing more. He need not know of our arrangement.”

  “Arrangement! We are engaged. Our wedding is in two days!”

  “I would not want you hurt, Fin.”

  ∞∞∞

  “And you? How safe is this for you? And Tom… I assume he helps?”

  “It is not the same. You have too much at stake. I know what I am about. Tom is safe. I was distracted today. I acted recklessly. I had planned to stop these visits once we married but I had to come one last time. And even though I am caught, I am safer than you,” Pan held his gaze trying once and for all to end his pursuit of her.

  “Why would a woman and child be safer than a grown man?” he said in exasperation.