by Ginny Dye
“Who also happens to be the enemy.” Matthew hated the hurt look in Carrie’s eyes. He plowed ahead, knowing he had to speak the truth. “This war has torn apart many friendships. Robert and I haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
Carrie edged forward, her eyes blazing. “I will not hear one more word,” she sputtered. “Robert and I talk of you often. I know exactly how he feels about you, and I know how much he misses you.” She stopped, her eyes misting with tears. “We can help you, Matthew. Please let us. What are you going to do? Go back out in the cold and freeze to death until you and Peter are captured? You came here because you need help. Don’t let your fears run you away now.”
Matthew gazed into her eyes, his heart almost breaking at the love he saw there. Robert Borden was a lucky man, he thought bitterly; then he glanced over at Peter.
“I say we take the chance,” Peter said. “You said yourself we can’t just walk out of this town tonight. Tomorrow morning we may be a little less noticeable, but there will also be guards and policemen looking all over for us.”
Carrie gripped his arm. “Please listen to him. I have a plan. It’s just that I need Robert to make it work.”
Matthew hesitated then nodded. “I guess we have no choice.” He put a hand on Carrie’s arm. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in danger. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d had any other choice.”
“Oh, pooh,” Carrie said merrily. “I wouldn’t have had you do anything else.”
Matthew suddenly grinned. “You haven’t changed, have you? You always did know how to get your way.”
“It’s not so hard to get your way when you know you’re right,” Carrie quipped. Then she looked around. There’s a lot we need to do before Robert gets home. I’ll need your help.”
Carrie was waiting on the front porch when Robert got home. “Hello, dear.” She greeted him as he walked up the sidewalk, the carriage that had just dropped him off rattling down the street.
Robert stopped and stared at her sitting on the porch swing. “What in the world are you doing out here in the freezing cold?” He stepped forward. “Is something wrong?”
“Not exactly.” She didn’t want to alarm him. She put a finger to her lips. “I need to talk to you.”
“We can’t do that in our room where it’s not five degrees?” Robert asked, obviously confused.
Carrie cast her casual attitude aside and leaned forward, all seriousness. “No one can hear us.”
Robert sat down next to her immediately, his face drawn with concern. “I’m listening.”
Carrie took a deep breath. “Matthew Justin and a friend are in the barn.”
Robert’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” he breathed.
“They’ve escaped Libby Prison and need our help. I’ve told them we will.” Robert sank back against the swing and stared at her. “You should see them,” she hissed. “Especially Matthew. He looks like a ghost, and he has an awful cough. He tried to escape in September, and they put him in some awful dungeon for three months!”
“Rat Dungeon,” Robert said slowly then straightened. “They’re in the barn?”
Something about Robert’s grim tone made Carrie hesitate. “I told them you would be glad to help. Matthew didn’t want you to know he was there. He said it would put you at too much risk if you helped an escaped prisoner.”
“Well, I certainly am not going to advertise my activities tonight,” Robert said with a narrow smile, “but he’s my friend. If’ they’re caught now, he’ll get worse than Rat Dungeon. I’ll see what we can do.” His forehead screwed up in heavy thought.
Carrie grinned. “I have a plan.”
Robert laughed. “I should have known you would. Let’s hear it.”
Carrie leaned her head close to his, talking quietly.
Twenty minutes later Robert leaned back. “It just might work,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Matthew sat next to Robert on the carriage seat and tried to comprehend he was actually riding out of Richmond with a Confederate captain as an escort. He hugged his warm coat close and rearranged the blanket around his bony legs. A glance back revealed just the tip of Peter’s nose protruding from thick layers of lap rugs. Matthew rubbed his full stomach and thought about the basket of food stashed under the driver’s seat. Then he looked forward and was unable to stifle a small laugh. “I never thought I would see Granite as a carriage horse.”
Robert smiled, his eyes searching the darkness in front of them. “If it hadn’t been for Carrie putting his harness on, I know he would never have gone for it. He’ll do anything for her.” Then he lapsed into silence.
Matthew sensed Robert didn’t want to talk until they were out of the town limits. He was content to wait. His fear of Robert’s reaction had melted when his old friend had barreled into the barn and swept him up in a warm embrace. While they lived in warring nations, their friendship had survived. It gave Matthew hope. Not only hope for himself but for the nation as a whole. Surely there were sparks of brotherhood and friendship everywhere that would fan into flame when the war ended.
Matthew leaned back against the seat and allowed his gaze to rove over the night sky, picking out favorite constellations. A glow in the east promised the rising of the sun soon. A heavy frost lay over everything. Tall clumps of frozen grass clattered noisily as the breeze tossed them about. Tears welled in his eyes. He had dreamed of freedom for so long. Even his fondest dreams hadn’t felt this wonderful.
“Here we are,” Robert said quietly. “If we make this, we should be okay.”
Matthew looked up at the roadblocks looming before them. As they rolled nearer, two armed guards stepped out. He studied them closely. Their casual expressions indicated they knew nothing of the prison break. He relaxed slightly but was still prepared to spring from the carriage if he needed to. Somewhere in the long night, he had determined he would not ever return to prison. He would rather die. He would risk a bullet in his back. He would not compliantly give himself up.
“Who goes there?” the guard called with his gun in a ready position.
“Captain Robert Borden.” Robert drove closely enough for the guard to see his stripes in the lantern light then pulled the carriage to a stop.
“Out awful early.” The guard stepped forward. “Where are you going? Do you have a pass to leave the city?”
Robert handed it to him.
“How about the two fellows with you?”
“They have just been released from Chimborazo Hospital,” Robert said. “They were both wounded during heroic action. The governor asked that I escort them home.”
The guard leaned forward and stared into Matthew’s face then glanced back at Peter. “Yeah? Where’d you get wounded?”
“Gettysburg,” Matthew replied.
“What’d you do so heroic?” His voice was skeptical.
“They both saved the lives of their commanding officers,” Robert snapped. “They almost died doing so.” He paused. “Are all these questions really necessary, Private? These men have suffered a great deal. I hardly think sitting here in the cold will do any good.”
The guard stepped back. “I haven’t seen their papers yet.”
Matthew held his breath as Robert handed over the forged papers, thankful the lantern light was dim and flickering. He wasn’t sure the papers would pass intense scrutiny.
The guard, subdued by Robert’s stern rebuke, merely glanced at them then waved the carriage on. “Have a good day,” he muttered.
Robert waited until the wagon was out of sight around a sharp curve before he pulled Granite to a halt and leaned back against the seat with a deep sigh of relief. “I guess Carrie’s plan worked.”
“I can’t believe the guard didn’t say anything about Granite,” Peter laughed. “Whoever heard of a thoroughbred hauling a carriage for wounded soldiers?”
“He didn’t look too intelligent,” Robert said then grinned. “Which could be one reason y’all seem to be winning this war
right now.”
Matthew laughed. Robert hadn’t lost his sense of humor. Then he grew serious and reached over to clasp his hand. “I don’t know how to say thank you.”
“Then don’t,” Robert replied. “Besides, we’re not out of here yet. We still have a long way to go. If the guards found that tunnel, they could be right behind us. I’d rather not be sitting here waiting for them.” He picked up the reins and talked quietly to Granite who sprang forward in a ground-eating trot.
Matthew gripped the sides of the carriage tightly as the frozen ruts and ridges sent pain shooting through his poorly padded body. Gritting his teeth, he stared ahead. He could endure anything that would put more miles between them and Libby Prison. His mind flew to his friends who had escaped with him. Where were they? Would they get out of the city? He longed to know but realized there was no way to find out. From now on he would have to put all of his energy into surviving.
“What was it like?” Robert asked, breaking the silence.
Matthew looked over. “Let’s just say you never want to visit a prison.” He shuddered, memories swarming his mind. “It’s bad, Robert. It’s real bad.” He couldn’t bring himself to describe it graphically. The experiences were still too fresh, too raw. He wanted to revel in his new freedom.
“How long have you and Carrie been married?” he asked to change the subject, as well as to convince himself it was true. He had buried any hope of having Carrie long ago. At least he thought he had.
“Nine months,” Robert said. “She’s the most wonderful woman alive.”
“Yes, I know,” Matthew said, then groaned silently when he felt Robert turn his head to peer at him. “You’re both very lucky,” he added. “I knew a long time ago you were meant for each other.” He forced a cheerful tone into his voice.
Robert was quiet for several minutes then glanced back at Peter. “He’s sound asleep.” He grinned then became serious. “I know how you feel about my wife, Matthew.”
Meeting Robert’s eyes squarely, Matthew stared at him. He started to deny it but knew it was futile. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve tried to change how I feel.”
Robert nodded. “It’s all right.” He gave a small laugh. “How can someone who knows her, not love her? It probably should bother me, but it doesn’t. I know I can trust you.”
Matthew breathed a deep sigh of relief. “I’m glad.” He paused then added, “I hope you know I would never have gone to Cromwell’s house if I hadn’t had to.”
“I believe you,” Robert replied. “It was hardly a foolproof plan of escape.” He chuckled. “You were lucky Carrie came home late – that she was even there. You’re even luckier she’s so smart.”
Matthew heard the genuine note of friendliness in Robert’s voice. He relaxed. “What has the war been like for you?” he asked, knowing it was safe to change the subject. The truth was out. He knew Robert would never bring it up again.
Robert shrugged. “It’s changed me. I’ve seen things I hope to never see again. I’ve experienced things I hope to never experience again. I’ve changed how I feel about things – what I believe.”
“Such as?”
Robert pulled Granite down into an easier trot and seemed to consider the question. “I sent a letter to my mother a few weeks ago. I told her that if there were any slaves left on the plantation, she was to give them their freedom. They were welcome to stay if they wanted to start earning a wage when I returned. If they weren’t interested, they could head to the North with papers saying they were free.”
Matthew leaned forward in astonishment. “What happened to you?” He knew how adamant Robert had once been about his belief in slavery.
“A black family saved my life,” Robert told him.
Matthew listened closely as Robert told his story. Matthew watched pain, sorrow, and then joy race across Robert’s face. When he had finished, Matthew sat silently, absorbing all he had heard. “What about after the war?” he finally asked. “What are you going to do about your plantation?”
“I don’t know,” Robert admitted. “I’m trying not to look that far ahead. There are too many unknowns. Too many questions without answers.” He shook his head. “All I’ve ever wanted to do is farm.” He laughed. “If you can call what I did farming. Actually, I supervised slaves who did all the farming for me. I would like to go back to that, but I’m afraid it won’t be there. If the South loses this war, I’m going to be broke. It takes money to run a plantation. I won’t have any.” He scowled. “The future is nothing but a black hole.”
Matthew ached for his friend and wondered what he could say. He was afraid Robert’s appraisal of the situation was correct.
Robert shook his head. “Enough about me. I’ll get off my pity party,” he said, forcing a light tone into his voice. “I have all the things that are truly important. I’ll face the future when it gets here. I learned a long time ago that the things we fear are not nearly so bad when we actually meet them face to face.”
Matthew thought about the prison and found himself disagreeing. The prison had been every bit as bad as he had feared. Yet it was behind him. He had to let go of his fears and face the future with courage.
“What next?” Robert asked.
“Back to the newspaper,” Matthew said. “That is once I get on the other side of the Union line.” He stared out at the overhanging trees. “I promised the men still at Libby Prison that when I got out I would tell their story. Sometimes the first step in stopping atrocities is bringing them to light. I intend to do that.”
“And after that?”
“I’ll always be a newspaper man. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I guess it’s in my blood.”
“You’re lucky,” Robert said. “No matter what happens with this war, you’ll always have a job. You’ll always have something to do.”
“And you’ll always have Carrie,” Matthew reminded him. “You’re lucky, too.”
Robert glanced over and smiled. “So get off my pity party. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Take it any way you like, old friend.” Matthew thought for a moment then added, “When I was stuck down in Rat Dungeon I had a lot of time to think. I thought about what would happen if I finally got out of prison and one of the newspapers wanted me.”
“Right,” Robert scoffed.
“It could happen,” Matthew insisted. “It would be plenty difficult, but I realized that if one door was to close for me, God would open another one. I finally decided it would be all right.”
Robert listened intently. “I guess time will tell,” he finally murmured.
“Will you have to fight again?” Matthew asked.
“Yeah,” Robert said. “This war is far from over. The South needs men too badly. I’m healthy. I’ll fight again.”
“You know the South will lose, don’t you?” Matthew asked carefully, hoping his friend wouldn’t get angry. He saw a spark ignite then die just as quickly.
“I know.” Robert sighed. “I talked with a man last night who believed if we could just hang on that the North would get tired of the war and vote Lincoln out of office. Then we could be an independent country.”
“You didn’t go for it?”
“Oh, it sounded good at the time, but I don’t really believe it’s true.”
“It’s not,” Matthew agreed. “There is plenty of disagreement about how the war is being fought and there are lots of people sick of it, but very few are thinking about throwing in the towel. Especially after things turned around last fall.” He paused. “The North is not going to sleep until there is complete victory.”
Robert stared at him. “And what is that going to mean for us?” he demanded. “I’ve heard different things about the plan for Lincoln’s so-called Reconstruction. The North may have conquered our country; that doesn’t mean they have captured our people’s hearts.”
“I know,” Matthew said sadly. “Reconstruction is that black hole of the future you’re talking about. There was
a wild gulf between our countries before this war started. Now the gulf is even wider. Somehow we must all find a way to bridge it.”
Robert grunted. “Good luck. I fear the war may end, but the fighting will go on for a long time. You can beat a people into submission, but you can’t stop the flame in their hearts.”
“Including yours?” Matthew asked softly. “Is the flame still burning?”
“It comes and goes,” Robert admitted. “I’m trying to imagine rebuilding my life with the North as victors, but I can’t say it’s easy. Carrie keeps telling me to take it one day at a time – that’s all any of us can handle. I’m trying.”
It was just after noon when the carriage finally rattled down the drive to Cromwell Plantation. Matthew gazed at the grand house, his heart once more swept with memories.
“What a place!” Peter exclaimed.
The door opened, and Sam stepped out onto the porch while shading his eyes to see who was coming.
“Hello, Sam,” Robert called immediately, so as not to alarm him.
Sam stepped to the edge of the porch, and then his eyes opened wide. “Is that you, Mr. Borden? Robert Borden?”
“It is. I know it’s been a while. I’m surprised you remembered me.”
“Once I knew Miss Carrie loved you I burned your face in my memory.” Sam turned to Matthew. “Ain’t I see you somewhere before?”
“It’s Matthew Justin, Sam. I spent Christmas here a few years back.”
Sam peered at him. “What happened to you, boy? You don’t look so good.”
Matthew laughed. “Prison life doesn’t seem to have done me much good.”
Sam walked off the porch and approached the carriage. “That be Granite, sure ‘nuff,” he murmured. The old man stroked the horse’s head. “I wadn’t sure I would ever see this big horse again.” He sniffed.
“We need a favor, Sam,” Robert said.
Sam turned away from Granite. “I didn’t figure you be just droppin’ in for a visit. What you be needin’? I do anything for Miss Carrie’s husband.”
