The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2

by Patricia Hagan

  “Oh, Miss Kitty, I am sorry.” Nolie’s big hand flew to her mouth, her eyes growing big. “I does go on too much.”

  “Nolie, it’s all right, really. But Jacob is wise to say we shouldn’t look back. We have to think about the future. Just think, Nolie, you’re free now.” Kitty looked at all the black faces now surrounding her. “You’re all free.”

  “What good does it do if we gonna starve to death?” Jacob asked grimly.

  “We had to run when we heard the Yankees was comin’,” Nolie spoke up. “Miss Nancy and Miss Sue, they took off for town, but they left us to look after ourselves. We’s scared of Yankees. We heered how they took slaves and made ’em march with ’em and fight. We didn’t want to fight, so we ran away.”

  “Now the white folks hate us ’cause we’re free,” Luther said, teeth clenched in bitterness. “They call us ‘uppity niggers’ and say now that we free, we can look after ourselves. And how we gonna do that when nobody gonna give us a job? What we gonna do? Live here in the swamp and eat roots and drink muddy water for the rest of our lives?”

  The angry desperation in the young man’s eyes frightened Kitty. She knew that many of the Negroes who surrounded her probably felt the same way. The older ones had been conditioned to bending to the white man’s will. The younger ones, like Luther, had not had the rebellion beaten out of them.

  She motioned to Luther to sit down. Eyes wary, he did so, crossing his legs. His pants were ragged and hung just below his knees. He was barefoot and wore no shirt. They were probably the only clothes he had. What would happen when winter came? “I’ll do what I can to help you,” Kitty said, taking all of them in with a sweep of her eyes. “You know I now own Poppa’s land. I don’t know about the taxes. I’m going to have to look into that. Somehow, I’m going to find a way to work that land and make it prosper. I know it’s good land and I can make a living there. Those of you who want to help me, I’ll see that you are rewarded. But I can’t pay you anything now.”

  “You saying you wants us to go to work for you for nothin’?” Luther asked incredulously. “We ain’t got nothin’ now, and we ain’t workin’. So how we gonna be any better off breaking our backs for you?”

  A few of the younger Negroes snickered, and Jacob stepped forward and shouted, “Shut up. All of you. You show some respect for Miss Kitty and hear her out. She’s a fine lady. Her poppa was a fine man. We’d do well to help her out if there’s a chance we might get paid somethin’ later on. It’s better than no chance at all. And it’s sho better than you sneakin’ around town, Luther, stealin’ things.”

  “Other white people will have to hire you later on,” Kitty continued. “Those that keep their land are going to have to have field hands to work. You aren’t slaves any longer, so they’re going to have to pay you. Those of you that can get jobs, do so. I can’t pay you anything. I haven’t a cent to my name. It’s going to be a very hard winter for me unless Captain Coltrane returns.”

  “Miss Kitty gonna have a baby,” Jacob interrupted, a happy ring to his voice. “She gonna have Captain Coltrane’s baby.”

  “I don’t know no Captain Coltrane,” Nolie mused. “He from around here?”

  “He’s a Yankee,” Luther spoke up, a proud gleam in his eye because he knew something the others didn’t. “I heard about him from time to time just listenin’ to the white soldiers in town. He’s one of the bravest men in the Yankee army. You gonna marry him, Miss Kitty?”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, I am. I love him very much, Luther. And every time you go into town, I want you to listen for any word of him. He’ll be coming back soon, and he’s going to be looking for me. Until then, I’m going to have to stay with you till I can build a little place on Poppa’s land.”

  “First of all, you better find out if that Mistah McRae done bought yo’ land,” Jacob pointed out. “And how you gonna do that? He gonna be looking for you.”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about that,” she said, more to herself than to those around her. “He had me at a disadvantage, but not anymore. Captain Coltrane and Sam Bucher buried Poppa’s pistol in a gunnysack near his grave. I’m going to go there and dig it up. They thought I might want it for a keepsake one day, but I need it now for protection. I believe his rifle is there, too. I’m not going to hide from Corey McRae. I’m not going to hide from any man.”

  “You sure that’s wise, girl? In your condition?” Jacob cried, leaping up from his crouched position. “He’s got lots of men—”

  “He can’t go around kidnapping women and forcing them to marry him,” Kitty snapped, angry with herself for having been frightened of the man in the first place. “Poppa may even have some pay coming to him from the Federal army. I’ll go into town and see General Schofield and find out. Even if it isn’t much, it might be enough for me to buy some seeds and get some food growing.”

  The Negroes whispered among themselves. Most of them knew Kitty Wright, or knew her reputation for spirit, but to hear her talk about facing up to a powerful man like Corey McRae was astonishing.

  Kitty leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and closed her eyes. It was not going to be easy. For the past four years everything had been difficult. But she would find a way. After all, she was John Wright’s daughter.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day, Jacob took Kitty into town, and she went directly to General Schofield’s headquarters, ignoring the curious stares of the soldiers and townspeople. The guard stationed outside stepped forward, rifle in hand, but she pushed him aside, leaving him with an astonished look on his young face.

  Several other soldiers milled about in the outer room, their attention turned to the young woman in the tattered, dirty muslin dress, obviously in the family way, who glared back at them with defiance. “Hey, lady, you can’t go in there,” one of the men said, stomping toward her as she headed for the closed door at the rear. “The general is busy—”

  “My name is Kitty Wright,” she snapped, her chin jutting upward, violet eyes flashing fire. “You tell General Schofield I have to see him. He knows who I am.”

  The soldier swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “He does?”

  “Just tell him the trollop he had dismissed from the hospital is here.”

  He glanced at his fellow soldiers.

  One of them shrugged, the other shook his head as though he didn’t know what to advise. Finally, he knocked on the general’s door, and instantly a voice boomed, “Yes, what is it?”

  The soldier looked extremely uncomfortable. Looking warily at Kitty, he called out, “Sir, there’s a…” and then he hesitated.

  “I asked what you wanted!” the voice thundered.

  Clearing his throat, the soldier called out, “Sir, there’s a…lady here to see you. Says you know who she is. She’s very persistent.”

  “I have no time for visitors at the moment. Take her name and have her come back later.”

  Elbowing the astonished soldier aside, Kitty opened the door and stepped into the room, muslin skirt swishing around her ankles. Major General McAllister Schofield leaped up from his chair and glared at her indignantly. “Just what in thunderation is the meaning of this, young woman? How dare you barge into my office this way?”

  Kitty pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest as she narrowed her eyes. Short, heavyset—it was obvious he hadn’t lacked for food during the war while others starved. His eyes were dark and piercing, and his nose was huge. He was almost completely bald, but thick, bushy white hair, grew down the sides to form a long beard on each side of his clean-shaven chin. A thin moustache edged the top of feminine lips. Here was a man quite used to having people wilt before his command, but she was not the wilting kind.

  “My name is Kitty Wright, General, and you know who I am.” She walked over and sat down in a chair opposite his desk.

  He continued to stand, leaning forward, knuckles turning white as they pressed into the wood. “I can’t say as I recall your name, Miss Wright.” H
e took a deep breath as though trying desperately to hold his temper in check. “Now, my good woman, everyone knows that I do everything in my power to maintain a good relationship between my soldiers and the citizens of this town and county. However, I do demand respect. Will you leave my office peacefully, or shall I summon my soldiers to throw you out?” There was the play of a smile on his lips, but it quickly faded with Kitty’s next words.

  “Oh, I know all about how you strive to maintain good relations with the civilians,” she laughed bitterly. “I’m the ‘trollop’ you wanted dismissed from working at the hospital, remember? You wanted to appease the good Christian ladies of this town. They blame me for the death of their local hero, Nathan Collins, who was actually a black-hearted snake and a coward. He deserted General Johnston’s command and shot my father in the back.”

  She paused to take a breath, then rushed on. “But I did not come here to talk about that. I came here to demand that you pay me, as my father’s only heir, whatever back pay the Union Army owes him for his service. Thanks to you and your ‘good relations’ policy, I no longer have a roof over my head. I was never paid for my services at the hospital, but I did have a place to sleep and a little food.

  “And”—she forced a bright smile—“I also happen to be carrying the child of one of your cavalry officers. But of course you must have heard by now that the town trollop is pregnant.”

  His huge nose turned redder than his cheeks. “Miss Wright, I do not wish to hear about your personal problems.”

  She went on as though he had not spoken. “The father of my baby is Captain Travis Coltrane. He happens to be one of the bravest soldiers you Yankees had, with the exception of my father. There was never a man better than he. Now, back to my situation. Now that I no longer have a home, thanks to you, I must demand that you turn my father’s back pay over to me at once.”

  Very slowly, General Schofield lowered himself into his chair. “Now I realize who you are,” he said quietly, evenly. “And I am sorry for any distress you feel I may have caused you, Miss Wright. Your expecting a baby is your fault, you know. That was something you should have considered when you and Captain Coltrane…” He trailed off, embarrassed.

  “I did not come here to discuss my relationship with Captain Coltrane. That is my concern and no one else’s,” Kitty snapped. “I came here to discuss the pay owed to my father. I am quite sure something was owed to him at the time of his death, and he did not have any money on him. I feel the money is rightfully mine now, and I also expect you to expedite matters and see that it is paid to me at once, due to your being indirectly responsible for my being thrown out on the streets.”

  The general raked stubby fingers through one of his side beards, a sarcastic smile twisting his lips. “And who was your father?”

  “John Wright.”

  His eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. He coughed and cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, of course I knew of your father. He was a fine soldier, a very fine soldier, indeed. One of our bravest.”

  “Nathan Collins shot him in the back,” she spat out. “Captain Coltrane merely revenged his death by giving Nathan what he deserved. What the people of this county believe is of no concern to me. What does concern me, sir, is keeping the land that belonged to my father. It meant everything to him, and he meant for me to have it. Now, I don’t have to tell you about the Yankee vultures hovering about waiting to buy up Southern land for delinquent taxes, now that Confederate money is worthless.”

  “Such are the consequences of war,” he said with a shrug. “I can do nothing to stop such investments, Miss Wright. If I were not a military officer, perhaps I might become interested in such business ventures myself.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t already involved? Don’t pretend that you don’t know the lecherous Mr. Corey McRae. He told me himself that you were the one who informed him of my unwanted presence at the hospital. I also know that you gave him permission to use that old feed store for his office while he pursues his real estate business.”

  He sputtered indignantly, “I am only befriending the man. The store was standing there useless. Miss Wright, I must say that I resent your implications.”

  She ignored his outburst and continued calmly. “I plan to live here and work my land. I do not intend to have Mr. McRae or any of the other vultures take it away from me. If Captain Coltrane is not dead, he will return and marry me, though God only knows when that will be. Until that time, I need money desperately, and all I am asking of you is that you check the military pay records and determine just how much money my father had coming to him at the time of his death. I want this done as soon as possible.”

  He started to tell her that it didn’t make a damn bit of difference what she wanted, but he knew the persistent woman would not take no for an answer. “Yes, I understand, Miss Wright,” he sighed. “But you must understand that this is going to take some time. The final terms of surrender are still up in the air, due to President Lincoln’s tragic death. Washington is in turmoil. There is much paperwork going on. In addition, there are soldiers begging to be discharged so they can return to their homes. Relatives must be notified as to where their loved ones are buried so they may move the remains elsewhere if they so desire. As for pay records of the dead, that is not of primary concern. I would say it is on the bottom of the list.”

  “It is of primary concern to me, General, and it is on the top of my list!”

  She slammed her hands on his desk to emphasize her desperation. “I am starving, do you understand? For my supper last night I ate swamp-bottom roots with the only friends I have…freed slaves…Negroes…good people who were glad to take me in. I drank hot water for my breakfast this morning and chewed more swamp roots. How long do you think I can survive this way? How long do you think those Negroes can survive? My God, General, they were better off before you damn Yankees set them free. At least they had food in their bellies and a roof over their heads. I need money to pay the taxes owed on my father’s land and get a late crop of food growing so there will be food for this winter. I need to buy cows for milk, calves for meat. I want to befriend the Negroes the way they have befriended me. Corey McRae will never get that land. I’ll die first. Which is probably what I will do, and my baby too, if you don’t get up off your pompous butt and find my father’s pay records and get me some money.”

  She took a deep breath, then said loudly, “Do I make myself clear, General? I hope so, because if I haven’t, you are going to get very, very tired of seeing me march into your office every single day. You may be assured that I will return daily until I get that money.

  “Maybe other Southerners are content to grovel about with their heads down in shame because we lost the war,” Kitty said, pounding the desk again. “But I, sir, do not intend to grovel. I have no shame. I never turned from a wounded man on the battlefield because of the colors he fought under. I doctored hundreds—maybe thousands. Now I figure the Yankee Army owes my father something, and I intend to receive it.”

  With that, she got up and stormed out of the office. As soon as the door slammed behind her, General Schofield banged his fists on his desk, yelling for the three soldiers stationed outside. They came rushing in, all three talking at once. “Shut up!” General Schofield ordered angrily. “I don’t want to listen to your sniveling about how you are unable to control a helpless female.”

  “Helpless? Her?” one of the soldiers screeched. “Sir, you just don’t know—”

  “Yes, I do know!” The general withered him with a look. “And that is why you are immediately going to prepare pay records for a dead soldier named John Wright. When she comes back in here, you will have some money to give her and a paper showing that it represents the amount owed to her father. I have no intention of going through another scene with that woman.”

  The soldier stared open-mouthed, then gestured helplessly as he said, “How am I going to come up with pay records for a soldier when I don’t know anything about
him? Who’s John Wright? What regiment did he fight with? What was the date of his death? Who was his commanding officer? I have to have more information, sir, before I can even send out an inquiry.”

  “You idiot, you aren’t going to send out an inquiry. We aren’t going to go through channels on this. I said I wanted no more dealings with that woman. You prepare an official-looking document and state that we have found the United States Government owes John Wright the sum of, let’s say, three hundred dollars. I will take the money from my own funds and give it to the girl to be rid of her. I certainly cannot have her storming in here every day. And perhaps I do have to assume some of the responsibility for her plight. Blast Coltrane!” He slammed a fist into the palm of his hand. “Send an inquiry as to his whereabouts. Request that General Sherman order him to return to Goldsboro as soon as possible.”

  He was pacing up and down the worn wooden floor, boots thudding with each step, hands folded behind his back. The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances. After a few moments he stopped pacing and stood in front of the Union flag, staring at it for long, brooding moments. Finally, sighing deeply, he shook his head and said, “No. Forget what I said about preparing a false document. I have never falsified government papers, and I do not intend to start now. I will just have to offer Miss Wright a loan until we can go through the right channels to ascertain how much, if any, money is owed her dead father. I cannot be a party to deceit.”

  The soldier who had been doing all the talking, Jesse Brandon, quickly said, “I agree with you, sir. It sure wouldn’t be right. I guess we could all get in a heap of trouble. But you know it may take months—”

  “Just do it,” the general snapped wearily. “Get started right away. When she returns, show her into my office. I will offer her a loan. That is the best I can do.”