The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels

by Stephenia H. McGee

  He paced the room, his tiny portion of the house that had long since begun to feel like a cage. And that Surratt! Did the man think him a fool? There was another they’d brought in on the plan. He just knew it.

  They kept him in his room at another boarding house, passing him off as an invalid and getting his meals delivered. What were they hiding? O’Malley balled his fists. He could not wait much longer. Booth gone to New York and Surratt dallying in Canada. Had they lost sight of what needed to be done?

  And Richmond lost…

  He let out a growl and grabbed his chair, heaving it across the room. It hit the door with a thunderous bang, and one leg cracked. He stood there panting, waiting for someone to come to investigate the sound. But, after many moments without the first footstep on the stairs, O’Malley decided they would ignore him.

  His trip to the telegraph office this morning had once again garnered nothing. Not a single line from Harry. He pounded his fist in his hand.

  Fool!

  Harry had probably gotten lost, or had run off like the other traitors. He should have gone after Daniels himself. Seen to it that the man’s brother got out of prison and used Daniels’s gratitude to his advantage. Booth said they no longer needed the giant, since he could not be brought to heel, but Booth underestimated David’s ability to mold men to his will.

  If he’d just had the man back, he could have used those enormous fists to bludgeon the tyrant into a pulp and be finished with this entire thing! He had no doubt he could have gotten Daniels to do it. The man might have once been his captain, but ranks were assigned by wealth, not by merit. He had more wits about him than that dullard Harry, but was still no match for David’s superior intellect.

  He ground his teeth, and finding nothing else to release his frustrations upon, flung himself down on the bed. He’d wasted too much time waiting as those fools floundered about in their indecision. John Surratt wanted support from the government and from whoever his contacts were in Canada, but David did not see the point. What need did they have of approval?

  David bounded to his feet, his blood too hot to stay still. Forget them all. It was high time he took the matter into his own hands.

  “There seems to be no doubt now of the fall of Richmond, and it appears that Lincoln has been riding in triumph through the streets of the captured city. He may find such work dangerous! Cowardly triumph! He will yet pay dearly for that triumph! All is not lost!”

  John Surratt

  Washington

  April 9, 1865

  Someone pounded on her door loud enough to make Peggy jump and drop the comb she’d been working through Annabelle’s tangled curls. “Lands! Who needs to be knockin’ that hard?” she grumbled as she picked up the comb and placed it on the vanity before going to the door.

  Annabelle turned in her seat, half of her hair in pins, and the other half tumbling over one shoulder. She pulled her dressing gown up around her throat as Peggy pulled open the door.

  “Let me in! Oh, goodness,” Grandmother exclaimed as she pushed past Peggy and into Annabelle’s room.

  “Grandmother?” Annabelle leapt to her feet. “What has happened?”

  “He’s surrendered! He’s finally surrendered!”

  Annabelle’s heart pounded in her chest, and she let the hand clutching her gown fall away as she reached out and took Grandmother’s shoulders. “Who surrendered? You are not making any sense, Grandmother.”

  Grandmother laughed and clutched Annabelle’s hands. “Lee has surrendered to Grant! The city is buzzing with the news. Richmond taken and now Lee’s surrender.” She clapped her hands together loudly. “The war is over!”

  Annabelle dropped her hands and looked to Peggy, who seemed as shocked over the news as Annabelle. She frowned.

  “What?” Grandmother asked. “Don’t you see this means you don’t need to worry any longer? With the war over, they have no more need of trying to cart the liberator away.”

  “’Course not!” Peggy agreed, her hands going up to cover her heart. Both women looked at Annabelle expectantly, but where they felt joy, she felt only the cold hand of dread.

  Five days she had been waiting on news to come back from the lawmen Grandmother said she had contacted. Five days of Grandmother dragging her to every shop in the city, giving her food she did not taste and clothes she did not need. Annabelle’s frustrations were nigh on bursting forth. Now Grandmother thought they didn’t need to do anything at all?

  “No, I’m afraid you do not understand.” Annabelle said, trying diligently to keep her composure. She rubbed her temples and plopped back down in her chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. “You haven’t seen these men. Spent time with them, as I have.”

  Peggy grunted. “I has so.”

  Annabelle pinned her with a glare. “And what type of men did you see, Peggy? Because I saw dangerous fools who would stop at nothing to extract revenge for their suffering onto the one they think is responsible. Just what do you think they will do now, when they see that he has crushed their cause?”

  Peggy’s face went slack, but Annabelle felt no satisfaction in knowing she was right. Grandmother’s features tightened. “Is it really all that bad?”

  “I’m afraid so, Grandmother,” Annabelle said. As I have often told!

  Grandmother clutched at the broach pinned at her collar. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, dear,” she said, hanging her head.

  Panic pounded in Annabelle’s chest. “Whatever for, Grandmother?”

  Grandmother considered Annabelle too long before speaking. “You are such a fluttery little thing, just like your mother. She was like a hummingbird, always in a tizzy about one thing or another. I learned that if I went along with her, she would eventually see that she was worked up over nothing at all.” She paused, and Annabelle could feel her face heating.

  “I… thought this was the same,” Grandmother continued, her face twisting into a grimace. “I saw that you were so worked up over that big fellow, and when he left you, you exaggerated the dangers in order to follow him and gather his attentions once more.” For the first time since they had been together, Grandmother looked sheepish.

  “You…you thought I lied about the president in order to chase a man!” Annabelle fumed, stumbling over her words in her indignation.

  Grandmother clasped her hands behind her back. “Well, no. I believed you when you said there were men with wild fantasies about abducting our president.” She lifted her shoulders.

  Peggy sputtered. “Ain’t no fantasies, ma’am. All that Miss Belle told is no exaggeration. Them men has a long reach, and they threats ain’t mere words. And they did try it before. If it weren’t for her, that man woulda been taken.”

  Grandmother’s frown deepened. “Perhaps that is all true. But that threat has passed, and Lincoln is under a tight watch. I thought if these men have not attempted anything else by now, then most likely they would not.” She bit her lip. “Surely you must know the president gets all kinds of threats on his life. None of them come to anything.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” Annabelle snapped.

  Grandmother straightened, her usual bearing returning. “Don’t you swing that sharpened tongue at me, young lady. I have connections with the White House. Now, I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously, but believe me when I tell you these things happen to men in positions of power, and most never come to fruition. But, if it is as bad as you say, and if it will ease your mind, I will let someone know what is happening.”

  The heat in Annabelle’s cheeks drained away, leaving a cold sweat in its place. “You haven’t already contacted anyone?” she squeaked. “You said you would! We’ve been waiting for days!”

  Grandmother looked at Peggy, but the other woman crossed her arms and offered no support. Grandmother smoothed her skirts. “As I said, I thought your claims were exaggerated, and I could see in your face that you meant to come to Washington whether I wanted you to or not. I simply took the opportunity to spend a little
more time with my granddaughter. I thought once you saw that things here were perfectly fine, you would calm down about all this.”

  Annabelle filled her lungs, held in the air, then let the breath out slowly. Biting at Grandmother about her deception would accomplish nothing. “What’s done is done. However, now we must move quickly. Even if my claims are unfounded,” she said, pointing a finger at Grandmother, “which I know they are not, then we must warn someone about O’Malley and Booth’s intentions. How will you feel if they succeed, and it was your own fault for knowing and not giving a warning?”

  Grandmother’s brows tightened. “Booth? You mean John Wilkes Booth?” she asked, ignoring Annabelle’s cutting words entirely.

  “Yes, as I’ve said,” Annabelle insisted, wondering if Grandmother had listened to anything at all. “He was in on it. I recognized him from the playbills when I saw him on the hill during the last attempt. I told you of this when I gave the tale.”

  Grandmother shook her head. “You said there was an actor, but not which one. Certainly, though, you must be mistaken.”

  Annabelle clenched her teeth. “Whether I am or not is irrelevant. You should go to the law, and we need to find someone to warn the president. If you would only take this seriously, then perhaps the people we warn will as well.”

  Grandmother drew her lips into a line and did not offer a retort. Finally, she gave a resigned sigh. “Very well. I can accomplish both through an old friend.”

  Annabelle narrowed her eyes. “I have no doubt you can, it is the will that concerns me.”

  Grandmother pointed a finger at Annabelle. “You have a lot of sass, girl.”

  Annabelle refused to wither under Grandmother’s stare, and after a moment the older woman relented. “Ha! Well, I suppose you get that from me.”

  She turned to look at Peggy. “Let’s get this girl presentable, then. We have work to do.”

  Peggy gave a nod, and together they took hold of Annabelle’s unfinished hair.

  About two hours later, Grandmother, Annabelle, and George sat at a private table in the rear corner of a place called Ebbitt’s, an eatery near the White House. Annabelle fidgeted with the napkin in her lap. She’d already finished her supper and a piece of cake, and now they were waiting on their after-meal tea. “Are you sure he is coming?” she whispered, leaning close to Grandmother’s ear.

  Grandmother dabbed her lips. “Patience, dear. He will come. Give the man a chance. I did send for him on rather short notice.”

  Annabelle clamped her teeth down on her annoyance. If Grandmother had done those things days ago, instead of evading the subject and suggesting diversions while they waited, they would not have had to petition a man on short notice. She kept as much of her anger from her face as she could, but doubted she was entirely successful.

  Just then, Grandmother smiled, looking relieved. “Ah, there he is now.”

  A tall man approached their table at a steady gait, a full smile showing between his trimmed beard and styled mustache. George rose and extended his hand.

  “May I present my acquaintance and friend of my granddaughter’s, Mr. George Daniels,” Grandmother said, inclining her head toward George.

  The new gentleman took George’s hand in a firm grasp. “William Crook,” he said with a nod.

  As the gentleman took his seat next to George, Grandmother gestured toward Annabelle. “My granddaughter, Miss Annabelle Ross.”

  Annabelle kept her hands in her lap, unsure if she should extend one or not. She didn’t recall ever having been introduced to someone while already seated at a meal. She inclined her head instead. “Good evening, sir. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “The pleasure is mine, I’m sure,” he said in the bored tone that accompanied such practiced formalities.

  A server returned with an additional setting, and offered tea to them all, slipping quietly away without a word when he had finished. Mr. Crook stirred a lump of sugar in his tea and then tapped a finger on the table. “Now, what is this urgent matter that has called me out so late in the day?”

  Grandmother smiled. “Always directly to business with you, isn’t it, William?” She lifted her tea and took a small sip, placing her cup back in the saucer without even the tiniest clink.

  Annabelle glanced at George. He, too, seemed to have noticed the familiar use of the man’s given name.

  “I am a lawman, Mrs. Smith, and as you know, I haven’t the time for dillydally.”

  Grandmother sighed. “No, I remember well.” She waved her hand, and her stern features returned. “Business it is then. My granddaughter claims there will be an attempt on President Lincoln.”

  The gentleman turned his eyes on Annabelle. “There are claims on the president daily, miss. We take care of such things. You have no need to worry.” He turned his eyes back onto Grandmother. “And it’s no cause for any urgency, certainly. A simple correspondence would have sufficed.”

  Grandmother smirked. “I wouldn’t dismiss it so easily, Will…Mr. Crook. Perhaps you should hear her tale before you think it is truly no matter of importance.” She looked at Annabelle and gave a small nod of encouragement.

  Annabelle leaned across the table as much as she dared without knocking over her cup, so that she could lower her voice. She recounted her tale to the lawman about being in Washington and encountering a group that planned to abduct Lincoln, leaving out the parts about her escape from Confederate detainment and Matthew’s role entirely, and, as Grandmother advised, making no mention of John Wilkes Booth, lest she be mistaken about the man’s identity. She didn’t believe that possible, but yielded to the advice nonetheless.

  When she finished, Mr. Crook looked at her for a long time, stroking his mustache. “And you are certain that was their intentions?”

  “Yes, sir. I am quite certain. I’m sure if you wish to speak with Mr. Thomas Clark, Mr. Lincoln’s driver, he will be able to confirm my story.”

  His seemed surprised. “Indeed. I will have to do just that.” He drummed his fingers on the table and then turned to George. “Were you aware of this matter, Mr. Daniels?”

  Annabelle’s heart thudded, but George appeared perfectly calm. “I have heard the tale, but was not present when such claims occurred.”

  Mr. Crook appeared satisfied. “Very well. I’ll see if there is anything of concern here,” he said to Grandmother, then looked back at Annabelle. “But don’t worry, miss. We take President Lincoln’s security quite seriously. He will be perfectly safe.” He rose from his chair and placed his napkin on the table. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have matters to return to. With Lee’s surrender, we have a great deal of important issues to see to.”

  Without waiting on their returned courtesy of “good evenings” he turned and strode away.

  Annabelle looked to Grandmother and frowned. The woman watched the man go until he was no longer in sight, a look of sadness heavy on her features. Annabelle glanced at George, but he only shrugged. He was right, of course. Whatever Grandmother’s relationship with the lawman, it was of little importance.

  “Now what?” she asked, turning Grandmother’s attention back to their table.

  Grandmother smoothed her features. “Now we wait.”

  “Wait! That’s all we’ve done so far!”

  Annabelle looked sharply at George, surprised to hear her own words coming from his lips. George said little, and when he did, his words were usually composed and even. Annabelle turned to Grandmother and saw her astonishment mirrored on her elder’s face.

  “And what else would you have us do? I have contacted one of the most important lawmen in Washington, one with the president’s own ear. He will see that this matter is settled, and you both can put your minds at ease,” Grandmother said.

  Annabelle straightened her shoulders. “Very well. We will wait a day and see what he will do.”

  Grandmother nodded, seeming satisfied, and returned thoughtfully to sipping her tea. George left his untouched, as his br
ows wrinkled with his own thoughts.

  Annabelle folded her hands in her lap. A day. Two, at the most, and then she would deliver her tale to every lawman in the city, if that is what it took.

  Oh, Matthew, she silently pleaded. Please don’t be there with them when the lawmen’s noose tightens.

  “Lincoln is again in Washington. Now is our time to act, and avenge the losses we have sustained on those who have caused them.”

  John Surratt

  The White House grounds

  Washington

  April 11, 1865

  Annabelle adjusted her bonnet and scanned the gathering crowd for any sign of Matthew. He should have arrived in Washington by now, even with the time it took to travel by wagon. She’d waited her allotted two days, and now she would wait no longer for others to work. She glanced over at Grandmother, who stood stiffly at her side, watching the White House.

  Celebrations had continued throughout Washington for days. Annabelle looked at the jubilant faces and could scarcely believe the war was truly over. She’d kept thinking that after the news that the Northern Virginian had surrendered that something more would happen. If Uncle Michael still lived, would he have been there when they laid down their arms?

  It seemed a lifetime, not merely months, since she had first set out with her plan to contact Uncle Michael in hopes of running Andrew off her land. Would he visit Rosswood when the army dispersed, only to find her gone and it under another’s control?

  “There he is!” Grandmother exclaimed, pointing to the western window on the White House. Others took notice as well, and soon the crowd called out for the president to come speak to them, to join in their great celebration of the coming peace.

  Annabelle had not seen the president since the day of his inauguration speech and now, as then, she stood too far away to tell much about his features. Apparently, if they had wanted to get a better look, they should have arrived hours ago.

  “We meet this evening, not in sorrow, but in gladness of heart!” Lincoln called out, his voice carrying over the crowd even as they lifted their voices in a cheer.