The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels

by Stephenia H. McGee

  Annabelle’s heart sank. When they’d first left Washington, she’d been hopeful that they would be able to come up with a plan once they reached Elmira. After discovering the town’s viewing platform, they’d decided it would be the easiest way to get a look at the prison structure and assess just how challenging their task would be. Perhaps if they were lucky, George would be one of the men camped outside. Surely getting him away from the river banks would be easier than if they had to get him out of the prison walls. She pulled her lower lip through her teeth. Oh, but how would they even find George among so many?

  Annabelle nodded to the woman and turned her attention back to the poor souls freezing below. Most of them didn’t appear to have jackets and some were wearing clothing so shredded and ragged that it was little more than strips of cloth flapping in the wind. How could the guards not give them proper protection from the elements?

  Annabelle tried to cool the anger churning inside her, lest it seep into her words. She lowered the binoculars and looked to the woman again. “Ten thousand seems like far too many. Why would they overcrowd it so?”

  The woman lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. But at least they are letting some of them out. It’s a right shame, it is. Traitors or not, no boy should be forced to live like that.” The sadness in her voice made Annabelle lean closer, close enough to smell the rosy scent of the lady’s soap.

  “Letting them out?”

  The woman nodded. “But only the ones that sign the allegiance papers, of course.”

  Annabelle’s pulse quickened. Could it be that simple? All George had to do was sign his allegiance to the Union, and he would be free to go? Matthew shifted his weight next to her. He hadn’t removed the spying glasses from his face, but she wondered if he was listening to the conversation.

  Annabelle returned her focus to the woman, who stood solemnly watching the prison walls. “I would think men would be flooding out of there, if that’s all they need to do,” she said. Next to her, Matthew grunted. She cut a glance in his direction. So, he was listening, then.

  “You’d think, huh?” the woman replied, still watching the wall. “But, there never seems to be many of them coming out. One or two, maybe, every few days.”

  Annabelle studied her profile. “How often do you come here?”

  The woman finally turned her eyes on Annabelle and gave her a strange look. She stuffed her hands back into her muff. “Well, I best be off. Good day to you, miss.”

  She quickly swished off in a rustle of fabric. Annabelle watched her hurry down the steps and then turned to look at Matthew. “Well, that was rather odd.”

  A grunt was the only response she received. Resigned, Annabelle lifted her binoculars again and scanned the tents below. On the breeze, the stench of human waste drifted up to assault her nostrils. She swept her focus up from the tents and onto the tall stone wall peppered with men in blue holding rifles. What of the men inside those walls? Did they fare better than the poor souls at the river?

  Rows of squat buildings huddled inside the wall, with scores of men crammed against the sides of them in an effort to escape the wind. Anger burned in her gut. Who was responsible for treating men so? Annabelle didn’t know for how long she scanned as many faces as she could focus on, but after some time her shoulders were beginning to cramp and her eyes burned from looking through the glass.

  Behind them, a man cleared his throat. “Excuse me? It’s, uh…getting dark, sir.”

  Matthew tensed beside her, but didn’t lower his looking glasses. Annabelle turned to the man, who appeared rather uncomfortable. Good. Shouldn’t someone who peddled misery at least seem a little unnerved? Though she figured it was more Matthew’s imposing presence than the wretches below that had him shifting his weight from one shiny boot to the other.

  He glanced at her and extended his hand. “Miss?”

  Annabelle tried to force a tense smile, but didn’t achieve more than a slight raise of her lip as she handed her pair over. They waited a moment longer, but still Matthew did not move from his position. The man looked to her as if wanting her aid, but she simply lifted her brows.

  After a few more moments the man reached out as if to touch Matthew’s shoulder, but upon seeing the shake of Annabelle’s head, he let his fingers drop. He might be a weasel, but she couldn’t let him find the end of Matthew’s wrath. Otherwise they would probably never be allowed on the platform again, even if they weren’t detained by Elmira lawmen.

  The weasel man hesitated only a moment longer, and then appeared to garner a pinch of courage. He straightened his shoulders and spoke with more confidence. “I’ll have to ask you to hand over the binoculars, now, sir. The platform is closing for the evening. You may return tomorrow.”

  Matthew lowered the spying glasses and turned his heavy gaze on the spindly little man. They matched stares and Annabelle held her breath, but finally Matthew reluctantly handed over the lenses. The man scurried away, clearly relieved. Annabelle slipped her hand into Matthew’s arm, gently turning him toward the staircase.

  Dusk began to settle on them and Annabelle suddenly felt guilty about the warm bed and hot meal she would soon enjoy while George sat out there, somewhere, freezing. She gave Matthew’s arm a squeeze. As bad as she felt, how much more so did he? He blamed himself for his brother’s capture, and Annabelle knew Matthew well enough by now to know that he would hold himself responsible for whatever condition they found George in.

  Oh, please, let us find him soon.

  Peggy waited for them at the bottom of the steps and fell in behind Annabelle and Matthew as they made their way across the street and away from the abominable observatory deck toward the crowded inn just a few streets down.

  Matthew had managed to get them a private room. While Annabelle was glad not to be put into a room she’d have to share with other unmarried females, Peggy had been quite upset about the arrangement. Matthew had adamantly refused to leave Annabelle and Peggy in the room alone, insisting the three of them could share the room just as easily as they had shared a campfire.

  As they made their way down the muddy street, the corner of Annabelle’s lips lifted upward when she remembered the exchange from the evening past. It seemed Peggy had found her match in Captain Daniels. Or perhaps the other way around?

  Despite Peggy’s protests, pleading, and prods at his sense of honor and propriety, Matthew had calmly insisted until he had eventually persuaded her that his decision was necessary. Not only were the limited funds that Matthew had gained from O’Malley running low, but Matthew had insisted the women would be safer in a room with him. By the end of it, he had somehow managed to bring Peggy over to his side without ever seeming as though he had tried to master her. He’d treated Peggy with respect, and for it had gained a deeper level of fondness from Annabelle.

  Fondness. That’s what she would call it. Anything else was simply…too difficult to deal with. At least for now.

  The trio trudged quietly back to the inn, each sorting through personal thoughts. They passed through the crowded tables of people already taking their evening meals, ascended the stairs, and closed the door to their cramped quarters before Matthew finally spoke.

  “Blasted, dirty Yanks!” The vein in his neck bulged and Annabelle wondered if he would be able to contain his anger. She took a step back and watched him cautiously.

  “Shhhh,” Peggy chided, unfazed by his seething anger. “You wants to let the whole buildin’ know you ain’t one of them?”

  He cast her an annoyed look but drew his lips into a line. Peggy shook her head and went to start a fire in the hearth.

  Annabelle clasped her hands in front of her and watched Matthew pace like a caged bear. “What a demented lot,” Matthew said through clenched teeth. “What kind of folks pay a fee to watch men suffer and die? All while enjoying their refreshments?”

  “That just ain’t right,” Peggy said as she struck a match. She set it to the kindling and let it take hold, then stood and straighten
ed her apron. “So, then, what you gonna do about it?”

  Matthew stopped his pacing and studied her. “What would you have me do, woman? Burn the vile platform down?” He paused, as if considering it. “Would serve them right if the whole town went up,” he spat.

  Annabelle gasped. “Surely you can’t mean that.”

  He drew a long breath and rolled his shoulders. When his eyes turned to her, his features softened. “Forgive me. You should not have to witness my temper. If you will excuse me, I think I will go for a walk.” Matthew stepped around her and put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Matthew?” He paused, but didn’t look back at her. “Please, don’t do anything rash.” A quick dip of his chin was the only response she received before he stalked out the door.

  “Lawd. That man is wound tighter than a coiled spring,” Peggy said, tossing a log onto the fire and prodding it with the poker until she had it in the right place.

  Annabelle plopped onto the bed, which sagged under her weight, and fingered the quilt spread underneath her. “Can you blame him? You didn’t see them, Peggy.” She shivered. “All those poor men. It is a wonder they have survived such conditions. How the government could allow something so deplorable….” She sighed.

  “You know war ain’t nothin’ pretty. What was you expectin’ to see?”

  Annabelle chewed her lip. “I don’t know. Not that.”

  “Well, seems to me Captain Daniels is got enough schemes in his head. He’ll think of somethin’.” Peggy laid the poker beside the hearth and extended her hands toward the fire.

  “Perhaps,” Annabelle mused, “but I think I’ve learned a simple solution. I’ll see if I can call on someone in prison affairs first thing in the morning.”

  “That so?” Peggy said, leaving the fire and busying herself with spreading out sleeping mats for her and Matthew against opposite walls, with hers closest to the bed on which Annabelle would sleep. Annabelle opened her mouth to suggest they rotate use of the bed, but knowing that both Peggy and Matthew would adamantly refuse, she didn’t bother.

  Instead, she focused on what she’d learned at the tower. “Yes. A woman on the platform said they were releasing some of the prisoners if they sign allegiance papers.”

  “Hmm. Seems to me like they would be gettin’ lots of papers signed, if that’s all it takes for a man to get his freedom.”

  Something in the way she said it made Annabelle’s heart ache. They called Lincoln the liberator. Maybe if his emancipation papers were signed by the states, then Peggy’s people would be free as well. Annabelle gave Peggy a sad smile, which she returned. “I thought so, too. It’s entirely too easy. There must be more to it than we know. That’s why I need to see if I can speak to someone at the prison.”

  Peggy finished her straightening and looked at Annabelle. “And you think they’s just goin’ to give you whatever information you want?”

  Annabelle shrugged. “Worked last time.” Going into the Commissary General’s office and asking for help was what had enabled her to find George’s location in the first place. She didn’t see why doing the same wouldn’t help them now.

  “Well, I reckon that’s true.” Peggy smoothed out the blankets again and settled herself on top of them, leveling her gaze on Annabelle. “Miss Belle, we needs to talk about what your plans gonna be.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean? The plan is to see if we can somehow get George out of that horrible place.”

  Peggy stared at her flatly, knowing Annabelle was trying to avoid the subject of her odd betrothal, which, technically, the groom wasn’t even aware of. “All right. Say we do. You find him, get him outta prison, and ride off free as a summer chicken.”

  Annabelle crinkled her forehead. What made a summer chicken free? All of Peggy’s were kept in a coop to be brought up to the frying pot. But, she didn’t have time to contemplate it, because Peggy was still talking. “Then what? Have you even thought about what’s goin’ to happen then? When you have two Daniels men to deal with?”

  Annabelle scrunched her nose. She had thought about it. Every night it kept her awake, and it wiggled into her thoughts at random moments throughout the day. The problem was that no matter how much she thought on it, she still hadn’t figured out what to do. That’s why she’d been avoiding discussing this very thing. She’d managed to hold Peggy off while they traveled, but with getting George very soon a distinct possibility, she knew it couldn’t be avoided any longer. She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know, Peggy. I suppose once we see George freed or escaped, we could try to go home.”

  “Escaped? Lawd, child, you…” Peggy paused, then shook her head. “No you don’t. We’ll talk ’bout that later.” She pointed a finger at Annabelle. “So you think you, me, and them two men is gonna go back to Rosswood?”

  Annabelle nodded.

  “Hmm.” Peggy crossed her arms. “Well, we do still have Andrew to deal with, and your mean ole grandfather, if he’s still alive.” Annabelle nodded again, unsure where Peggy was going with this. “Yes, ma’am. Even after all this here gallivantin’ you’ve done, ain’t been no solution found to the problem what started this here mess to begin with.”

  Annabelle balked. “Gallivanting? Really, Peggy?”

  She waved a hand. “What? It’s a word I learned from Captain Daniels.”

  “Ha!” She glared at Peggy. “It’s a word you don’t know the meaning of. I’d hardly call what we’ve been through gallivanting. More like running for our lives!”

  Peggy shrugged, unfazed. “Well, maybe not. After all, I reckon we did save a president, and I gots high hopes for that man. He’s gonna be the one that’ll see my people free.”

  Annabelle grinned, her frustration melting away. “Yes, we did. And if we can do that, well then, we can surely save George and Rosswood as well. Once we have George, then maybe the rest will work itself out.”

  Peggy regarded her evenly. “How you gonna tell him about the betrothal?”

  Annabelle rose from the bed and lit the lantern, setting it down on the small table beside the bed and sending shadows dancing across the quilt. “Well, I was sort of hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

  Peggy lifted her brows. “So, you’s decided on telling him the truth, then?”

  Annabelle cut her eyes at Peggy, knowing exactly what she meant. “I’ve told you, there is nothing to tell.”

  “Humph. Then what you talkin’ about?”

  Annabelle pressed her fingers into her rumpled skirt. “I am going to let Matthew and George discuss it. I’ll not be the one to tell George anything on the matter.” She held up her hand. “And before you say it, there is nothing I need to tell Matthew, either. I will simply let the two of them talk before I go running my mouth about any of it.”

  “Ha! And let them men decide your fate? Since when have you been all right with that?”

  Annabelle crossed her arms. “Well, George doesn’t know about any of this, and I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”

  Peggy’s eyes softened and she came to sit by Annabelle on the bed. “Oh, child. You is afraid he’s not going to want you? That he’s not gonna want to hold to the deal?”

  Was she? Or was she more afraid that he would… and that Matthew would let him? “I….” She took a deep breath to keep tears from burning her eyes. It was bad enough her heart strained toward one brother who didn’t want her. But If George didn’t want to marry her so she could regain Rosswood, what would she do? “Yes, I am afraid he will not hold up the deal Captain Daniels made. What if he is against it? I have no other options, Peggy. Andrew has probably already seized Rosswood. I’ll need an alliance with a strong family in order to get it back.”

  “Well, there’s still hope your uncle Michael will be able to help.”

  “Maybe. But, Peggy, it’s been so long. Do you truly think he still lives?”

  “Ain’t no reason to think he ain’t.” She patted Annabelle’s knee. “Look here, do you wan
t to know what I think?”

  As if her answer mattered. Peggy would tell her anyway. Sure enough, Peggy continued. “I think we still need to get to your momma’s family. We is already in New York, and it ain’t that much farther to go. See if blood can help you, child. Don’t put all your faith in these Daniels men.”

  Annabelle nodded slowly. Peggy was right. Why leave her fate up to hoping someone would want to marry her? “I don’t have any reason to think they will help, but you are right. I at least need to try.”

  Peggy wrapped her in a squeeze. “Good girl.” They sat there a moment, then Peggy grinned. “And besides, that boy needs to court you proper. It ain’t good he thinks he ain’t got to woo you.”

  Annabelle gave Peggy a playful push. “Come now, who wouldn’t want to court a homely girl with a rundown plantation she can’t save? I’m sure I’d be first on George’s list of desirable ladies.”

  Peggy sobered. “Miss Belle, it ain’t right you do that. Just because your grandfather was pathetic enough that he needed to put you down in order to make hisself feel more important, don’t mean you should believe him. You is not a plain girl, and you has plenty to offer. Don’t go sellin’ yourself short.”

  Annabelle swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled Peggy into a quick hug. “I was just teasing.”

  Peggy gave her a squeeze. “Well, I ain’t. No more talk like that.”

  Annabelle stood. “I’m starving. I don’t suppose Captain Daniels will be returning for supper, so why don’t you see if you can get us some plates to bring up here? I’d rather we ate alone instead of with the crowd.”

  A sad expression washed over Peggy’s face. “Don’t give up hope yet, girl,” she said, not allowing Annabelle to shift the subject. “I still think the captain cares too much to sees you go to anyone else. Brother or not.”

  Annabelle’s heart flipped in her chest, but she forced her features to remain smooth. “Don’t be silly. This is simply a matter of convenience.”