Memphis

by Sara Orwig

  “Not everyone has gone to war. Some went, some stayed.” She made entries in a ledger while he sat and watched her.

  “You’ve never been to a party?”

  “No. Papa didn’t believe in frivolous things.” She looked solemn, facing him, answering so matter-of-factly. Hannah Lou was the opposite of Miss Merrick, he observed. He’d already tasted Hannah Lou’s kisses and she loved to flirt and tease and he looked forward to the party.

  “The Needham party is to raise funds for shoes for Confederate soldiers. Surely you consider that a good cause. I can promise you it is.” Without giving her time to answer, he leaned on the desk. “Let’s go to the party and help raise money for shoes, Miss Merrick. The shoes won’t go to your brothers, but somewhere in Virginia, pretty ladies might be trying to raise funds for shoes that will go to them.”

  She stared past him. “It’s for a good cause, but I don’t know much about parties,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “I’ll show you,” he said, smiling at her. She had a faint smudge of ink on her jaw, and he reached out to rub it away with his thumb. She blinked and blushed.

  “You have some ink,” he explained, moving away his hand.

  She looked up in surprise. She was pretty enough to enjoy parties and enjoy knowing men. He couldn’t imagine a life like hers.

  “I don’t want your pity,” she said, raising her chin. His hand was warm and rough. He met her gaze steadily, reaching out to touch her chin. “Miss Merrick, I might want to shake you or I might want to kiss you, but I don’t pity you.”

  She blinked, still staring at him. Why had he said that to her? He hadn’t ever wanted to kiss her. She was too prim and straitlaced, yet as he looked into her eyes and saw a flicker of response, his gaze lowered to her full lips and he felt a stir of desire. She was a capable, intelligent woman, but could she be any fun? Who had kissed her and had she enjoyed it? He looked into her eyes again and felt caught in a compelling stare that made his pulse quicken. She turned away, and the tension lessened.

  “Since you’re here, would you like to tell me about the battle?”

  “If you’d like,” he said quietly, leaning back and wanting to forget that day and knowing he never would. “We camped at Corinth because it’s a railroad center and as long as it’s open, Memphis has a line to the East. Beauregard wanted to hold it, to drive Grant back. Corinth as a rail center is vital, Memphis as a trade center and river port is essential.”

  “You think we’ll be attacked?”

  “Yes. You have the Union army only miles away. They want this town.

  “I can’t imagine Memphis under siege.” Her gaze ran over the press and shifted to him. “Go ahead with your account of the battle.”

  “At Corinth we waited to attack because of weather, because our generals were trying to decide when to start the battle. Finally that April morning came the orders to attack—it was to have been a surprise and I suppose, it was. General Hardee’s men were in front.”

  “I wish I’d known a battle was about to commence.”

  He caught her wrist, causing her to stop writing and look up at him. “You don’t have brothers or parents here. You need someone, Miss Merrick, to tell you that you should not go to an army camp,” he admonished.

  “It is none of your affair whether I do or don’t!” she snapped and her eyes sparked. “Tell me what happened after you and I parted.”

  He stared at her. Sophia Merrick was the most independent woman he’d known, except perhaps his mother who would have stood up to the devil. “The Federals dug in on a sunken road and they had a perfect defense, an open field in front of them with a slight rise in the ground that was a natural barrier.” He continued to talk, remembering too clearly. Finally he stood up and reached across the desk to take Sophia by the hand.

  “Enough about war. It’s a beautiful spring day,” he said. “Show me Memphis.”

  “No, I really should—” she said and looked up into his eyes.

  “C’mon, Miss Merrick,” he coaxed.

  She capitulated and stood up, picking up her yellow straw bonnet. With green silk, the hat was frivolous unlike her plain muslin dresses, he noticed. The yellow straw framed her face and the deep green bow beneath her chin softened the harshness of her hairdo, making her look prettier. She locked the door to the office and took his left hand as he helped her into the buggy.

  With a halting effort and a grimace, he climbed up beside her and urged the horses forward. “Tell me about Memphis,” he said, glancing at her. The plain green muslin had the top buttons unfastened. As prim as she was, the necks of her gowns and dresses and wrapper were always unfastened and he wondered if she was aware of leaving them unbuttoned or why she did. It certainly wasn’t to entice male notice, he decided.

  “The town was built on Chickasaw bluffs, so we’re high above the river at this point. In the early days it was a fort and then a trading post.”

  “Did your brothers go to parties?”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “Are they married or do they have women waiting for them?”

  “None of them is married. Morris went to parties with Lily Mae Prentice, Amos writes to Julia Stone, and John is quieter and he never did go out much with anyone.”

  “So how come the brothers went dancing and you didn’t?” he asked, curious.

  “I’m the youngest and the only female and Papa was very particular about what I did. They didn’t go to parties often, and when they did, I don’t think he knew.” She tilted her head to look at him. “We were discussing Memphis, Major. Three men acquired the John Rice Grant of five thousand acres. Andrew Jackson, John Overton, and James Winchester opened the land for development and General Jackson sold his interest to Colonel John C. McLemore. I’ve always been told Paddy Meagher’s Bell Tavern, originally owned by Colonel Sam Brown, was the center of early business and Paddy Meagher was the town’s first merchant.”

  “An Irishman,” he said, grinning at her and she smiled in return. He felt better. Sophia was pretty and for the moment, good company; sunshine was bright, the sky a deep blue, and he was recovering.

  “There was Ike Rawlings, a sutler, who was an Indian agent at Fort Pickering. The first blacksmith was Joab Bean, Mister Locke, the first saddlery, Mister Ragland opened a drug store,” Sophia continued, “and Mrs. Fooy had the first ferry to Arkansas. And Papa said if people wanted to get married they had to go to a judge in Arkansas. Shelby County was created in eighteen nineteen. Now Memphis is the sixth largest city in the South.”

  “What’s the fancy building?” he asked, looking at an imposing structure with a Greek Revival portico and six tall columns.

  “That’s one of our finest,” she said with a note of pride. “The Gayoso House was designed by James Dakin and the wrought-iron balconies were added recently by local architects. It’s owned by Robertson Topp. Until this year that’s where the balls and the big parties were held. The Overton Hotel was under construction until the war started. It’s being used as a hospital now. The war has changed so much in town. Crisp’s Gaiety Theater and the New Memphis Theater are closed. John liked the theater, so I did get to see Edwin Booth perform.”

  The bonnet hid her face when she turned her head and Caleb wanted to untie it and take it off. And he thought about how she looked when her hair was down, a golden cascade that spilled over her shoulders and vanished all trace of primness. They turned to another street.

  “This is Front Row or Front Street. A long time ago it was called Mississippi Row. Most of the cotton houses are here.”

  Caleb glanced at the row of brick buildings, some five stories tall with the wide doors on the ground floors to enable men to move bales of cotton inside easily. “I notice the shops are closed,” he said.

  “They close around two every afternoon. It’s because of the blockade. So many goods are scarce and it gets worse every day. I’ve had Henry dig a larger garden. We’re going to have to grow everything.”

  As they ro
de, she waved her hand. “Here, Front Street becomes Shelby Street. When you reach Beale, turn east and I’ll show you some fine homes. Mister Littleton built there and has the largest ballroom in town.”

  He looked at elegant mansions built of wood instead of brick. Sophia waved her hand. “The Memphis and Ohio depot is at the north end of town. Memphis used to be divided into three corporations, Memphis, South Memphis, and Fort Pickering, developed by John McLemore. Up north the town came to be known as Pinch.”

  “Henry told me. He called it Pinch Gut and said that’s where the Irish settled.”

  “They did. The three became one town and from what Papa said, Memphis began to prosper when they started charging wharfage for the boats that stopped here. Turn and we’ll go to South Street,” she directed. “We’ll pass the Mississippi and Tennessee Railroad Depot and Memphis and Charleston. There were four railroads in Memphis by eighteen sixty. The Memphis and Charleston opened in eighteen fifty-seven. That’s where they say Grandpa Merrick was killed. The very first was a short track between Memphis and La Grange.”

  “And it connects the Mississippi to the Atlantic.”

  “You sound as if you think that’s grand. We were to have the Pacific Railroad Convention in Eighteen forty-nine, but a cholera epidemic caused the convention to be postponed. Town leaders hoped to get a transcontinental railroad through Memphis.”

  “This is the perfect city for it. Memphis is in the heart of the land and it’s on a major river. This is a railroad town.”

  “The number of saloons and the gambling houses grow along with the railroads. Tennessee has more railroads than many states—almost thirteen hundred miles last year. Before the railroads came, the town was small. Now the population has grown and people travel through here going all directions.”

  “You sound as if you’d like to close it to everyone,” he said with amusement.

  “No. Just the bad element—the gamblers and the wild ones.”

  “Do I get the feeling you’re referring to me?” he teased.

  She smiled. She had dimples in both cheeks and he stared at her. She was prettier than ever when she smiled, but always when he thought about how pretty she was, he remembered the nights when she was in her gown and her hair fell over her shoulders. Then she was beautiful.

  “What do you want to do after the war?”

  “I’ve never given the future a thought until this battle. Now life seems more important,” he replied.

  “I’ve always known the paper is my future. Now turn and we’ll go by the depot.” Land was green with tall grass in vacant lots. While Sophia told him about Memphis, they passed me Memphis and Tennessee depot and turned north again on Lauderdale to pass the Memphis and Charleston depot.

  “Robertson Topp, Robert Brinkley, Colonel John Trezevant were men here who pushed for the Memphis and Charleston. They promoted stock for the Memphis and Little Rock as well. Mister Winchester was behind the railroads. Mister Greenlaw helped them promote stock. While we’re out, I’ll show you the area of Memphis Mister Greenlaw and his brother developed. He’s interested in property as much as railroads.”

  “Didn’t your father feel he was fighting a hopeless battle when he fought the railroads?”

  “I don’t think he looked at it that way. He felt he was fighting for good and what’s right.”

  “Railroads aren’t the same as saloons. Railroads bring progress. If you didn’t have the river traffic and the railroads, how big do you think Memphis would be now? Do you think you would have gotten to see Edwin Booth perform or had the opera here?”

  She tilted her head to study him. “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” she said, frowning and he felt an impulse to lean forward and kiss her pursed lips. He inhaled deeply and turned his head to look away from her. Leave her alone, he told himself. She would faint. Then he felt a twinge of amusement. Sophia Merrick wouldn’t faint. She might knock him out of the buggy, but she’d never faint.

  As the afternoon wore on, he felt a growing liking for the city of Memphis and the railroads intrigued him. After Shiloh, he wanted something in his life and he wanted a home for Darcy. “You live in a good town,” he said, impressed.

  “Papa thought so,” she said, looking around. “I think so, too. I like it here.”

  “Ever want to leave?” he asked, curious about her. Could she be fun? He doubted it. Not his kind of fun, he decided.

  “Just to visit. Someday I’ll get on a steamboat and go to New Orleans. Turn at the corner.”

  On Adams she pointed out houses to him. “There’s one of the older homes, the Massey house that was built when I was a baby.”

  He studied the one-story house with a double portico and eight columns. They passed an elegant two-story, four-columned house while she told him about the townspeople. Finally they turned on Manassas and then on Washington to go down the alley to her carriage house.

  “Sometime you’ll have to see Doctor Mansfield’s mansion on Lamar—it’s elegant. He’s a wholesale druggist here.” A carriage was waiting in the alley, and Sophia gazed at it with curiosity.

  Who would wait in back? If a guest came to call, she always came to the front door. Why would anyone wait in the alley for her? Or was it to see someone else?

  Chapter 5

  As they drew alongside, a woman leaned forward and then thrust her head through the window.

  “Cal!” she cried and waved at him.

  Feeling dismay, Sophia stared at her. The woman’s full mouth was an eye-catching deep red, her cheeks a paler rose. A sweet scent of lilacs filled the air. The woman’s low-cut green satin dress was as fashionable as Miss Therrie’s dresses. And never had Sophia seen a dress cut so low. Full mounds of flesh curved above the green satin.

  “Desirée,” Major O’Brien said, pleasure in his voice. He glanced at Sophia. “I’ll be in after a while,” he said, climbing down. The woman emerged from the carriage and Major O’Brien caught her with his left arm, hauling her against his side and kissing her full on the mouth. Sophia sat up straight and turned away, driving the buggy to the carriage house and handing it over to Henry.

  “Major O’Brien will be along shortly,” she said stiffly, feeling a ripple of discontent and shock, feeling a mixture of emotions she didn’t care to explore, knowing she was incredibly plain next to such a creature.

  It was two hours later when she heard the back door slam. She stood up and left the parlor as Major O’Brien came down the hall. “That was a friend of mine from New Orleans,” he said.

  “So I gathered,” she said, feeling her cheeks grow warm, reluctant to discuss the matter.

  He looked amused as he reached out with his left hand to grip the doorjamb. He drew a deep breath, and she realized he was having difficulty.

  “You’re hurting again, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I’m exhausted.”

  She moved beside him, sliding her arm around him as they had done so many times before. His arm draped across her shoulder.

  “No lecture, Miss Merrick?”

  “No. You’ve heard them all and you’re going to do exactly as you please, so I won’t waste my breath.”

  He chuckled. “I’m a bad patient.”

  “True enough, but you’re a strong one. I know you’ll survive and that’s good.”

  “I’m glad to hear you think so. Sometimes the way you look at me, I think you’d just as soon I didn’t. I want to sit in the chair.”

  She eased him down and knelt to pull off his boots. When she tugged on his left boot, he groaned. “Leave it. That hurts.”

  She looked up at him and stood up. Perspiration dotted his forehead and his color was chalky. She hurried to get a damp cloth and sponge his forehead as he leaned back and closed his eyes. A faint sweet scent clung to his clothes and Sophia stared at him, wondering about the woman Desirée. Did he love her and did he love Amity Therrie as well? She hadn’t known a man like the major. He was complex and so different from her quiet brothers.

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nbsp; His chest rose and fell evenly. He was asleep in seconds, exhausted from the afternoon. What is he like when he’s with that woman? she pondered. Feeling a strange curiosity about him, she remembered watching him wrap his good arm around the woman and kiss her, leaning over her. It made Sophia feel a yearning as she gazed down at him and she looked at his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? She smoothed curls back off his forehead. In minutes she tiptoed out of his room and closed the door.

  On Saturday she worked late at the office, arriving home at half-past ten, exhausted after a frustrating day with a temperamental press. The issue with Major O’Brien’s account of the battle had gone to press that afternoon and would be delivered tomorrow morning. She paused in the front hall as she heard voices from his bedroom. A man laughed and several men’s voices blurred as they talked at the same time. A cloud of smoke hung in the air. What was he doing now? she wondered.

  Curious, she walked toward his room, pausing in the door as she stared. Major O’Brien was in the rocker. One of the marble-topped tables was in front of him and men sat around it. There were bottles on the floor beside their chairs, cigars in men’s mouths, and cards in their hands. Gambling. She thought of Papa and her brothers who had never brought cards, tobacco, or alcohol to the house. She was exhausted after working late, and now to come home and find Papa’s wishes violated made her feel as if she had failed her family. What would Papa do? She squared her shoulders and entered the room.

  Feeling that she was carrying out her father’s wishes, she crossed the room. “Major O’Brien,” she called to him.

  “Miss Merrick—” He, rolled the cigar to the corner of his mouth and grinned.

  “This is my father’s house—the Merrick house—where there has never been cards, alcohol, or tobacco!” she said sternly.

  “Calm down. We’re just having a friendly game.” Men stood up and yanked on their coats and hats.

  “Sorry, Miss Merrick,” Elmer Ott said, grabbing a bottle from the floor and dashing past her. Ignoring their apologies, she yanked up bottles.