The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels

by Stephenia H. McGee

  Footsteps behind him caused Matthew to turn. Mrs. Surratt swept into the room in a rustle of black fabric and regarded the men. “Does either of you know where Miss Ross was this afternoon?”

  Matthew’s pulse quickened. O’Malley glared at her. “Why should I care, woman? Can’t you see we are about more important business?”

  Mrs. Surratt was unruffled by his briskness. She laced her fingers in front of her and regarded him evenly. “The timing is interesting, though, isn’t it?” She swung her gaze over to Matthew, but he kept his focus on O’Malley.

  “Nothing is of interest now, dimwitted woman,” O’Malley growled. He pushed past them and out into the hallway, grabbing his hat and coat from the pegs by the door.

  He slammed the front door behind him with enough force the rattle the walls. When Matthew turned to look back at Harry, he found the sitting room empty and himself alone with Mrs. Surratt’s prodding eyes.

  He tilted his chin to her. “If you will excuse me, please.”

  He made it up two of the steps before her words stopped him. “I have quite a few men of influence who find their beds here.”

  Matthew turned to look at her, unsure where her words were going. She arched a brow. “I would hate to find that anyone under my roof put my son in danger.”

  “Of course, madam.” Matthew tucked his chin and continued up the steps as calmly as he could.

  He rapped on the door at the top of the third-floor landing. Inside, he could hear the women whispering, but the door remained closed.

  “Annabelle, it’s me,” Matthew said as loudly as he dared – though Mrs. Surratt already knew where he was going, so it was entirely pointless.

  A second later the door flew open, and Peggy lowered her lids at him. “I need to speak to Annabelle,” he said.

  “And I ain’t lettin’ you.”

  Annabelle appeared over Peggy’s shoulder and gently moved her out of the way. “Peggy, we have to go with him to Westerly.”

  Matthew gestured for her to lower her voice and stepped into the room without invitation. He closed it behind him and stared at the two women, who seemed to be trying hard to hide their fear. Neither succeeded.

  “We need to go.”

  Peggy pointed her finger at him. “You ain’t no master here.”

  He balked. What?

  “Peggy, he means to….”

  “No! I’s done gone along with all this, but I ain’t movin’ another step without speakin’ my mind.”

  Begrudging respect for a slave woman who would dare address him in such a manner blossomed within him. He squared his shoulders and waited for her to speak.

  “I don’t know what you is plannin’ on doin’ with Miss Belle now, but she don’t need to go anywhere else with the likes of you.”

  He opened his mouth to protest. “But, she’ll be safer at….”

  “And what’s more,” Peggy interjected, “you needs to know that she’s only willin’ to go with you just so you won’t be here when the law comes callin’!”

  “Peggy!” Annabelle gasped. “Hush now!”

  “I won’t!”

  Annabelle’s eyes bulged, and she stepped back.

  Peggy wagged her finger at Matthew, her tirade clearly unfinished. “She’s willin’ to put herself into more danger just to keep you from gettin’ your due. And, besides that, how we even know you is who you say you is? What if you ain’t no man of Westerly? You done lied about plenty else.”

  Matthew clenched his fists. “I am Matthew Daniels, fourth son of Westerly, and a man of my word. Everything I withheld was only to protect her!”

  Annabelle let out a small gasp and plopped down on the bed.

  Peggy crossed her arms over her chest. “Fourth, huh?”

  Matthew drew his lips into a hard line and refused to let his gaze snap over to Annabelle.

  “Why should she put herself at risk for you? The man who don’t even want her?”

  “Peggy, no!” Annabelle groaned.

  His heart clenched. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just ’cause I’s Colored don’t make me a fool.”

  Matthew looked to Annabelle, and tears flooded her eyes. He snarled at Peggy. “Your skin isn’t what makes you a fool. How can you think to speak on my feelings for her? You know nothing of them.”

  She lifted her brow. “Then why’d you lie about bein’ the brother she was supposed to be matched with?”

  Annabelle hung her head, and Matthew’s fist clenched. “She deserves better,” he growled.

  “It ain’t ’cause you don’t want her?” Peggy pressed.

  Matthew stared at the top of Annabelle’s head, willing her to look up at him. She would not. “It’s because I care too much that I wanted her to have what was best for her! And that was before….”

  Peggy smirked, and the pulsing in his temples accelerated. “Get your stuff, woman! We ride while we still can. I care little for how much you hate me. I will see her safely to Westerly.”

  Annabelle rose from the bed but would not look at him. She simply picked up the bag that sat already packed and waiting by the footboard, then she silently walked past them and out the door.

  “Curse it! But for this mishap, the affair could not have failed. By this time we should have been on the road to Richmond. We will never again have such a chance.”

  The private journal of John H. Surratt

  Annabelle could hardly see the stairs for the tears blurring her vision. What would possess Peggy to say such things? Did she think that by exposing his rejection Annabelle would not go with him to Westerly?

  She already knew he had spurned her! Annabelle pushed past Mrs. Surratt at the bottom of the stairs and ignored the woman’s sputtering.

  “Annabelle! Wait!” Matthew called after her.

  His heavy feet drummed down the stairs, but she did not turn. Mrs. Surratt said something about exposing them, but the words landed on uncaring ears. She clutched the bulging carpetbag to her chest, flung open the front door, and then scrambled down the outer steps.

  Annabelle stepped into the thick mud, glad now she hadn’t had the time when she’d thrown back on her clothes to remove her boots. The sun bathed her in warm light but could not chase away the chill that tingled down her spine. She drew in heavy breaths of cold air.

  Hold it together!

  “Annabelle!” Matthew caught her arm, and she stumbled, dropping her bag into the mud.

  Father’s bag! Covered in muck and…and…. She burst into tears.

  Matthew pulled her against him and stroked her back. “Hush, dear, it will come clean,” he gently said against the top of her head. With his face buried in her uncovered hair, she could almost believe the tender way he spoke to her meant something.

  She thrust her hands into his chest and pushed away from him hard enough that she stumbled back, barely catching herself before adding to her humiliation by planting her backside in the dirt. Annabelle ran her sleeve over her eyes, hardly noticing the curious stares of the people passing by. Annabelle kept her focus on Matthew and willed all the venom she could muster into her glare. “Do not think to touch me in such a way, Captain Daniels.”

  Pain sprang into his eyes for only a second before he inclined his head. He reached down and plucked Father’s bag from the dirt, attempting to brush it clean with his hand. All he did was smear the mud further.

  Annabelle was about to demand he return it to her when Peggy finally made it to them. Tears welled anew, and Annabelle knew the seething glare she attempted to bathe them in was little more than a pathetic stare.

  She gathered what little dignity she could and continued on her way. Surprisingly, neither attempted to speak to her the entire way to the stable.

  When she poked her head into the barn, they were both on her heels.

  “May I help you, miss?” the groom asked, dropping his polishing rag and hurrying over to her with a springy gait.

  “My horse, please.”

  “Yes
, miss.” The boy bounded off.

  Annabelle breathed deeply, the scents of horse and hay reminding her of days when her only worry was not to ride too far from Father’s side. She lifted her chin and kept her gaze forward. Matthew stepped around her and marched down the barn aisle, likely going after the horses Annabelle hadn’t called for.

  Peggy touched her arm. “Oh, my sweet girl. I didn’t mean for it to hurt you so.”

  Annabelle swallowed hard and lifted her chin. Peggy wagged her head.

  “I’s sorry, Miss Belle. I only meant to get him to say it!”

  Annabelle rubbed her hands together. “Why?”

  “’Cause men’s stubborn. He weren’t gonna say it unless I made him, and I had to be sure before you done run off with him again.”

  She stared at Peggy incredulously. “But, why get him to say he put me off on his brother? What good could that have possibly done except make things awkward?”

  Peggy placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t see it, do you?”

  Annabelle threw her hands up. “What? Tell me, what don’t I see?”

  “Humph. You don’t see that man loves you, even though it’s as plain as the day.”

  “He doesn’t…I…I don’t want….” she stammered to a halt.

  Peggy arched her brows and waited.

  Ridiculous! Annabelle searched Peggy’s face for any signs of humor but found none. “No. You must be mistaken. He only wants to be sure I am safely out of the way.”

  “Ain’t so sure about that,” Peggy said, sounding insufferably sure of herself. What did Peggy know about such things, anyway? It was just an old woman’s imagination running wild. Wasn’t it?

  Annabelle chewed her lip. Was Matthew merely concerned for her safety, or did his feelings run deeper?

  Peggy stood silently by her side and allowed Annabelle to try to sort through her thoughts. By the time Matthew returned with two saddled horses, she was no closer to knowing if she believed Peggy or not.

  Where was that groom? He should have had her horse out well before Matthew had time to saddle two.

  Matthew’s boots came to a stop in front of her. She let her gaze drift up the length of him until she finally met his eyes.

  What she found there made her heart lurch.

  “I am genuinely sorry, Annabelle,” Matthew said, the heaviness in his words making his voice sound deeper than usual.

  Annabelle tried to sweep away her pride and offer a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

  “I was trying….”

  She held up her hand to stop him from saying false words that were only meant to soothe. “You don’t have to explain.”

  He furrowed his brow.

  “You once allowed me the freedom to bring you my motives and intentions when I was ready. You didn’t press me, and you gave me your trust when I didn’t deserve it.”

  Matthew’s nostrils flared and his pupils widened, but his lips remained closed.

  “For now, there is only one thing I must know.”

  The jerk of his chin was Matthew’s only response.

  “What are your intentions with David O’Malley?”

  “I am finished,” he said through tight lips.

  “How exactly? What…?” her words cut off as he stepped close to her. She tilted her chin to keep her eyes on his face. She had to know he was finished with these treasonous games. Whatever were to happen, she did not want to see him come to harm. Heaven help him if he lied to her again.

  “Do not worry, Annabelle.”

  She quirked a brow.

  “O’Malley has gone out of his wits. I will find another way to get George free and see that all is set right.”

  “I ain’t ever liked that man,” Peggy interjected.

  Matthew’s lip twitched as he handed Annabelle the reins, and she suspected he suppressed a smile. Before she had a chance to react, he slipped his hands onto her waist and effortlessly lifted her into the saddle. She flung one leg over and arranged her skirts over the trousers underneath. Strange how sitting astride no longer felt foreign.

  The groom cleared his throat, and Annabelle’s attention snapped to his red face. When had he come up? The poor boy stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do with the horse he’d fetched, now that she was atop another.

  Peggy squeaked as Matthew plopped her into the saddle as well. His words to her were low, but not low enough that Annabelle didn’t catch them.

  “Do not think I am not on to you, woman.”

  Peggy lifted her chin. “Hmm. I ain’t the one you needs to be tellin’ stuff to.”

  Matthew barked a laugh as he handed Peggy the reins. “Just like a woman, always trying to meddle where she isn’t needed.” The mirth in his tone belied his words.

  Annabelle watched him take the horse from the groom and swing into the saddle. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips.

  “You gonna bring the horses back today, miss?” the groom asked.

  “No. I think not.” She looked across the horse’s ears at Matthew. “I believe I’ve had my fill of Washington.”

  The groom shrugged. “All right, then.”

  They clicked the reins and stepped out into the sunlight that washed over them like a gentle tide. Annabelle looked up, glad that the gloom had been scrubbed from the sky. At her side, Matthew sat tall in the saddle, a look of determination on his face.

  He would leave this plan? Because he saw how foolish it was? Or something else? Regardless, she might very well have the information Matthew so desperately desired.

  She let the other two ride on ahead of her, and then Annabelle pulled the paper from underneath her mantle and unfolded it.

  One line was scrawled across the middle of the page.

  Elmira Prison, New York.

  She stuffed it back into her pocket. The last time she’d had secret information, it had landed her squarely in the middle of a dangerous plot. If she shared what she had now, what would it lead her into? Annabelle pulled her lip through her teeth. Westerly might offer quiet safety, but New York held the opportunity to save another man’s life.

  Annabelle hauled up on the reins, bringing her horse to a stop at the edge of the road.

  Peggy glanced over her shoulder and drew up her own horse. “Miss Belle? What’s wrong?”

  “I think,” Annabelle said with a resolute nod, “that we should head to New York.”

  Matthew wheeled his horse around and came up beside her. “You still wish to go to your mother’s family?”

  She studied him. “What would you say if I did?”

  Matthew scratched at his chin, and his horse sidestepped beneath him as if it were anxious to be on the way. Behind them, the bustle of Washington was already beginning to fade in favor of the gentler sounds of birdsong and whispering winds. “If that is what you must do,” he finally said, “then I will see you escorted there safely.”

  Her heart warmed. He had not spoken his feelings with so many words, but the earnest look in his eyes was all she needed. Desperate love for his brother had driven him, and a man who could love like that was one worth hoping for.

  A grin split her face. “I know how to save your brother,” she said, turning her horse back north. “All we have to do is break him out of Elmira Prison!”

  Washington

  April 11th, 1865

  David O’Malley pulled his hat from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. For over a month he had been waiting here in Washington, and yet another opportunity had not been found. It seemed ever since their run that day Lincoln had not been out alone.

  And, that Matthew Daniels… well, good riddance to him. He wasn’t worth the trouble he’d caused. If he wanted to take the coward’s way out and go back on his word, then he deserved the men on his trail.

  The wind stirred around them, and O’Malley looked to Booth. His frustration had been unleashed upon the loyal who had remained with him when Booth had discovered that Lincoln had changed his plans at the very last momen
t and attended a ceremony at the National Hotel. He’d forgone his plans at the Soldiers’ Home to see officers of the 142nd Infantry presenting Governor Morton with a captured Confederate battle flag. The irony that Booth had been staying at that very hotel was not lost on them.

  The crowd continued to gather as more and more detestable Yanks pressed near him. David clenched his teeth. Witless sheep! Did they not see? Did they not care?

  All was lost now! He’d thought his very insides would explode two days past when he’d learned that Lee had surrendered to Grant! He still felt the sting of it in his gut, and the closer the sheep pressed, the more he began to steam.

  Witless curs! Blind fools!

  “We shouldn’t be here,” he said to Booth between clenched teeth.

  Booth cut his eyes David’s way but just nodded back at the White House. The jubilant Yanks swarmed around them, calling for the dog to come vomit his words over them.

  David shifted his weight and tried to keep the look of calm support plastered on his face as the lanky lout stepped up to the window over the building’s main north door.

  “We meet this evening, not in sorrow, but in gladness of heart!” the goon called out over the crowd.

  O’Malley glanced at Booth. “Why must we suffer this?”

  Booth glared at him but said nothing.

  O’Malley tuned out words the woodsman crooned and tried to keep the churning in his stomach under control. Then something downright appalling caught his attention. David’s breath snagged in his throat.

  “Giving the benefit of public schools equally to black and white, and empowering the Legislature to confer the elective franchise upon the Colored man….”

  Booth swore under his breath, and O’Malley’s pulse pounded furiously. He would not only seek to reconstruct the South under his tyranny, but also force them to accept the darkies as freed men! With the very right to vote!

  Booth seethed next to him. “That means citizenship.”

  David tried to speak past the cotton filling his mouth, but his indignation came out as little more than a growl.

  “Now, by God, I’ll put him through!” Booth said, thrusting back his shoulders. “That is the last speech he will ever give!”