This Rebel Heart

by Patricia Hagan

  "And see this?" He snarled bitterly as he held up his left arm. Julie could see that it hung crookedly from his elbow.

  "They broke my arm. It never healed right. And it was Ironheart who ordered them to do it to me. Remember that."

  "I—I'm sorry," she whispered, waves of pain flowing through her as she imagined what agony the man must have experienced. "He sounds like a very cruel man. I won't look forward to meeting him."

  "I'll never forgive him for what he did to me, and there are plenty of others in the crew that hate him too. If you ever do get back up on deck in the daylight, when the sun's beating down, watch when the men take off their shirts. You'll see plenty with the criss-cross scars on their backs from the lash."

  They stood in silence for a few moments. Julie did not know what else to say, and she sensed that Shad Harky was caught up in painful memories. Finally she took a step forward and murmured that she would go below and talk to one of the other officers about deck privileges.

  He took her arm. "The furnace force and the crew have been loading cordwood, so I imagine we'll be moving out just about any time. I'll see you to your cabin. Watch that fancy hoop skirt, now. It's a narrow stairway. If I was you, I'd put them hoops away for the duration."

  Julie paused one last time to look at the Georgia river bank. A cloak of impenetrable yet lovely silence had closed about the ship. She saw a single riding light hung high at the stern. Somewhere a bird chirped drowsily as the moon, high now, burnished the entire surface of the cove, flinging great shadows from low bluffs and trees across the shining river as it swept out of sight in a silvery, misty cloud.

  One lantern hung from a hook in the ceiling and cast a yellowish glow in the hallway. Julie saw that there were three doors on each side of the hall, and wondered which led to her mother's cabin.

  Shad gestured to the dusty oil paintings that hung on the walls. "This used to be a fine ship before the captain got hold of her and turned her into a runner. It used to carry a lot of passengers, I'm told. Tomorrow, if I get a chance, I'll slip out and show you around. Maybe I can take you down to the boiler deck so's you can see what makes her run."

  "That would be nice," Julie murmured, trying to be polite even though she was starting to feel unnerved by the way the man was staring at her. His gaze kept shifting to her bosom. With a quick movement, she jerked her shawl tightly around her, completely concealing the bodice of her dress.

  He gave her a knowing smirk before reaching to open a door to their left. "This is your cabin, I suppose. It ain't much, but it's not like you plan on living here."

  Anxious to move away from such a close encounter, she stepped inside the tiny room and glanced about at the sparse furnishings. There was a wooden chair and a small desk on which sat a bowl and pitcher. The bed, nothing more than a thin mattress upon a board, was held in place along one wall by chains attached at each end. A round window, which she knew was called a porthole, afforded the only view to the outside world.

  Shad, sensing her reaction, snickered. "I reckon this just churns the stomach of a fine lady like you, don't it? Well, it's better'n what the rest of us got. We sleep on canvas stretchers in a space so crowded and hot the gnats have trouble breathing. I can look at you and tell you're used to real nice things, like having oils and perfumes rubbed on that lily white skin o' yours..."

  Abashed, Julie could only stare silently at him as he moved quickly back into the hall to extinguish the overhead lantern, plunging them into darkness. She stepped backwards as she heard his footsteps approaching. For some reason she did not yet understand, she was frightened of this man who had seemed so solicitous at first.

  "We can't have no lights now," he was saying. "Maybe you'd be interested in knowing just how we'll slip through the Federal blockade. You see, this steamer is painted a light lead color. Makes us blend in with the horizon. We got the smoke pipe lowered, and we're using just a single mast.

  "When we came in," he continued, "we took precise compass readings of their fleet at sunset. They don't change positions after dark, so all the captain has to do is steer by compass back out to the open sea."

  Even though she found what he was saying to be interesting, Julie was filled with a sense of foreboding that made her dizzy. She felt her back pressing against the wall, and the boatswain was so close his warm breath touched her face.

  "If you will excuse yourself, Mr. Harky, I would like to retire." She tried to keep her voice even, her apprehension hidden.

  "Of course," he murmured. "You're scared, though, ain't you? No need. I'll look after you."

  The hinges squeaked as the door opened, then slowly closed with a click. Julie groped her way across the tiny cabin and leaned against it, washed over with relief. At last he was gone. As much as she hated to admit it, she was afraid of him.

  Still feeling her way, she found the bed and sat down. It was silly, her being scared of the man. He meant her no harm. He probably sensed her uneasiness over the voyage and was only trying to be friendly. Since he was from a different background, it was easy for her to mistake his intentions. That was something she would have to get over.

  It was no wonder, though, that she was unnerved in face of all that had happened. Everyone in Savannah had panicked when the Yankees moved their squadron of steam-propelled vessels to the entrance of the sound between the two Confederate forts on Hilton Head and Bay Point in early November. They had fired a continuous broadside onslaught, and caused the Rebels to abandon both fortifications. Just a few days later, Port Royal, on the mainland, had fallen. Everyone said that with the Yankees in sight of Cockspur Island, they were making ready to strike at Fort Pulaski.

  All of Savannah went into an uproar, and those who could afford it fled to the interior of the state. People were even wilder with fear when Tybee Island was abandoned.

  Virgil said it was an excellent time for Julie and her mother to leave for England, and he made immediate arrangements for the transport of Rose Hill cotton as well. There was a strong rumor going around that the Yankees were getting ready to move on the eastern part of North Carolina. If they were successful, they would not only gain control of the sounds on the coastal plain, with their important navigable rivers, but they would also control over a third of that state. That would pose a serious threat to the Wilmington and Weldon Railroad, which was the main line running South from Richmond.

  Yes, there was much to be concerned about. Not only the war, but the other, terrible thing....

  "Julie?"

  She sprang to her feet at the sound of her mother's voice calling from outside.

  "Julie, darling, are you in there?"

  She opened the door, relieved as her mother's arms found her and they embraced in the darkness.

  "I was so worried. I was escorted to my cabin and told to remain there until further word, and I didn't know whether or not you had ever come down. Are you all right?"

  She felt her mother's cool hand touching her brow to push back the strands of dark curls that forever tumbled out of place.

  "Yes, I'm fine," she told her, "but it's positively eerie being in the darkness like this. Maybe we should sit up together."

  "Nonsense," came her mother's chuckling reply. "You don't need to be frightened, Julie. Remember what Virgil told us about Captain Arnhardt. He's one of the best blockade runners there is. We have nothing to fear."

  She stiffened. "Julie, you're trembling. What's happened to unnerve you so? This isn't like you...."

  Julie quickly told her about Shad Harky.

  "Oh, Julie, I've warned you about talking with men when you haven't been properly introduced to them," her mother scolded. "And I've heard about keelhauling. It's a punishment inflicted for very serious offenses. This Harky fellow deserved his fate, I'm sure. I want you to stay away from him."

  Julie assured her she intended to do just that. "Besides, he says Captain Ironheart, as he calls him, makes passengers stay below during the entire voyage. He doesn't like them about, particula
rly women. I don't want to run into Shad Harky again, but I certainly don't have any intention of hiding in this hole of a room all the way to Bermuda."

  "If the captain requests that we stay below, then we will abide by his wishes," her mother said in her usually obliging manner. "I'm sure he has his reasons. While I don't know much about ships and the sea, I do know that a captain's word is law. I've no intention of questioning Captain Arnhardt's rules, and I expect the same of you."

  She kissed her daughter's cheek. "Besides, it won't be so terribly long until we're in Bermuda, and then we'll change to a really nice ship, one that has proper accommodations for passengers. Let's just be thankful Virgil was able to get us and Rose Hill cotton out of Savannah.

  "Now, then. You go to bed and get some sleep, and when the sun comes up in the morning, we'll be well out to sea. I don't want you fretting."

  "That isn't easy these days," Julie said with a touch of sadness.

  "I know, dear." Her mother hugged her once more. "But life will be better. You'll see. Virgil will be so good to you. He adores you so."

  "It isn't that, it's—"

  Her mother spoke sharply. "I know what you're thinking about, and all we can do is pray for Myles's safety. The thing we both must do, child, is not look back. We have to look forward. Myles did what he had to do, just as we all must."

  One last embrace, and her mother left the cabin.

  Julie slowly slipped out of her dress, making a mental note to discard hoops and heavy petticoats for the duration of the voyage. There simply was not room to move about in such attire.

  The sheets of the bed were scratchy and uncomfortable, but the blankets were warm. Despite the apprehension that still held her in its grip, exhaustion took over and she felt herself slipping away into sleep.

  Yet thoughts of Myles and the horror of the past kept dancing through her mind. Where was he? How was he? Was he even alive?

  She bit her lip to hold back the tears. Tears made wrinkles, her mother said. Tears were useless, her father had often told her. But thoughts of yesterday's anguish always made her weep, because in defending her honor, the brother she loved with all her heart had been forced to run away... a hunted man.

  Oh, dear God, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair....

  The silent hand of sleep waved over her body. For the moment, the tears did not flow.

  Chapter 2

  The ship creaked and groaned as it stealthily glided through the Federal blockade, but Julie was oblivious to everything except the maddening nightmare that clutched her in its throes.

  It was that August night again, and she was walking into the woods surrounding Rose Hill, the air permeated by the sweetness of night-blooming jasmine. The grass beneath her feet was thick as wool, and she stooped to unfasten her high-topped shoes. Wiggling her bare toes deliciously, she ran the rest of the way toward the gurgling brook hidden in the inviting green forest.

  She wanted to forget the scene of moments before, when Myles left for another of his secret meetings with those who were not sympathetic to the Southern cause. His activities had been a great source of heartache and worry to both Julie and her mother, for they were dangerous. Threats had been made and rocks thrown through their windows by thundering night-riders. But Myles would not listen to their pleas.

  "A man does what he must," he had said many times. "I haven't said I will fight with the North, but nothing will make me fight for the South and a cause I don't believe in."

  And so he had left once again, probably not to return till midnight or later. Julie was trying to escape her fearful thoughts about his safety, and she lifted her skirts about her waist as she stepped into the cool water of the stream.

  Frowning because the pantalets she wore were confining and warm, she stepped back into the bank and wriggled out of the long, frilly drawers. Tossing them to hang on a nearby bush, she felt the need for freedom, to run and splash and kick her legs in childlike glee, hoping to forget her cares, if only for a little while.

  Dancing about among the slippery rocks, she lifted her heart in song. Here, among the green and gold world of the quiet, peaceful forest, there was no misery, no war. Only serenity. She wished she could stay forever.

  Her voice echoed softly through the woods, and soon she was lost in her music. The trees became an appreciate audience, and the rustle of leaves her applause. Everything else faded into oblivion.

  Suddenly she tensed. A feeling of foreboding crept icily through her veins as she slowly turned around and around, glancing about. Something was not right. Had there been an unfamiliar sound? She was not sure just what it was, but she had a dreadful feeling that she was not alone. Something—or someone—was out there in the murky shadows... watching... listening....

  Standing in the middle of the rushing stream, she began to inch her way slowly toward the bank, moving cautiously over the slippery, moss-covered rocks lest she lose her balance and fall. Glancing about, she strained to see in the gathering darkness.

  There was an abrupt crackling, crunching sound of footsteps as the two men came out of their hiding place. Julie recognized them at once: Jabe Brogden and Wiley Lucas—local riffraff, troublemakers.

  Fear was a cobweb in Julie's throat through which she struggled to push her words. "Why are you spying on me? What are you doing on Rose Hill? You—you're trespassing!" She had been holding her skirt above her waist, bare legs exposed, and she let it drop quickly.

  They exchanged snickers, then Wiley squinted at her and snarled, "I reckon if'n you know what's good for you, you'll be telling us where that traitor brother of yours rode off to."

  "I don't know," she replied, hoping she did not sound as frightened as she felt. "And don't you call him a traitor. He has a right to his views."

  "Not in these times!" Jabe cried. Then he started toward her. "You tell us what you know and you won't get hurt. We're gonna fix him and the bastards he runs with."

  She saw Wiley tip a bottle to his lips before tossing it aside to follow Jabe. Her mind whirled dizzily as she fought the wave of panic that made her whole body quake. She must not show fear. They were drunk, and the best way to handle them was with indignation, not fear. But they were coming toward her, and she had to escape. There would be time to argue later, when she was not alone with them.

  "We like them pretty legs." Wiley grinned, exposing yellowed, chipped teeth. "We want to see what else you got that's pretty. I'll just bet you're pretty all over...."

  "No!" she screamed in panic. "No! Leave me alone!" She turned in the direction of the opposite bank, her foot slipped on a rock, and she fought wildly to regain her balance, only to topple into the rolling creek. Splashing, arms flailing, she struggled to right herself, but continued to lose her footing as she tumbled over and over in the rushing waters.

  Strong hands were groping, reaching for her, and she slapped out at them, screaming, fighting, but to no avail. She was yanked up and out of the water, carried to the other side and into the thick brush.

  They tossed her roughly on the ground as Jabe said that if she would tell them where Myles had gone, they might let her go.

  She begged and pleaded with them to believe that she knew nothing.

  Wiley laughed as he pressed against her. "Well, then, we'll just have us some fun now and take care of your brother tomorrow...."

  With a sudden surge of strength she did not know she possessed, Julie raised her hands to stab her thumbs into his eyes just as she brought her knee smashing up into his groin. With a shriek of agony, he rolled to one side, clutching himself.

  Suddenly, an angry shout erupted, as the servant who had been sent to search for her burst onto the scene.

  Jabe scurried to disappear into the woods, and Wiley, still doubled over in pain, struggled to run behind him.

  The servant helped her back to the house, and suddenly Myles was there, angrily demanding to know who had attacked her.

  Still shaken, Julie had told him. Then he ran from the house with their mother scr
eaming after him to leave it be and let the law handle it.

  But he had gone. And they had not heard from him since.

  Myles was now a hunted man... wanted for what the sheriff called cold-blooded murder.

  Myles had gone to town and went directly to the tavern where Jabe Brogden and Wiley Lucas hung out. Myles had confronted them, and when Jabe brandished a gun, there was a struggle. The gun went off, and Jabe fell to the floor, dead. Wiley, along with the other men in the tavern, began yelling that it was murder and Myles should be hanged then and there. Myles had seen that he was outnumbered, and knew that the men screaming for his blood were doing it more because he was considered a traitor to the South than for killing Jabe, which he had not meant to do. He only wanted to give both he and Wiley a sound beating. He had no choice but to run.

  Julie and her mother also knew the real reason the Sheriff was so quick to declare Myles a murderer. He was like so many other fire-eating secessionists who were quick to judge and hate a man who did not share their views about the war.

  * * *

  Julie woke up crying and calling Myles's name. Dear God, she shook herself in terror, would it never end? Would she ever stop reliving the horror over and over again?

  It was like that other time in the woods when they were both only ten. It had been years before she could close her eyes without seeing that wild hog ripping out of the bushes, charging straight at them. Myles had picked her up and thrust her skyward, toward the low-hanging limb of a nearby tree, as he screamed at her to grab hold and hang on.

  He had taken the charge of that hog himself, saving her life at the risk of his own. Fortunately, there were field hands not too far distant who heard her screams and came running to slay the deadly creature, whose tusks by that time had pierced Myles in his right hip. He lay bleeding on the ground, moaning with pain, and he and Julie realized that had the others not arrived, the hog would have kept right on charging until it killed him.

  Myles lost much blood, and for several days, Doc Perkins didn't hold out much hope that he would live. As it was, the wound left him with a permanent limp.