David wired in every afternoon, but according to his reports, the work in Annapolis was progressing very slowly. Elizabeth was growing restless both because of that and because there was still no word on Elijah and Elisha. She decided to see what she could find out for herself. She had assured David that she would stay away from the dry goods store, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still do a bit of investigating.
Elizabeth paid a call to Julia’s parents late one afternoon. However, Dr. and Mrs. Stanton were not home, so Elizabeth decided to visit Sally Hastings instead. She was Julia’s closest friend. Perhaps she knew something.
“Yes, I have heard from them,” Sally said. “Julia wrote to tell me that Sam has taken a temporary teaching post at the seminary there, an exchange of sorts. A Philadelphia man has come to teach in his place here in Baltimore.”
“Did Julia say when they would return?”
“Not until late autumn.”
So long? That didn’t sit right, and Elizabeth was now inclined to think as David did, that the Ward family had left town because of some sort of trouble. “Sally, does this teaching post have anything to do with the dry goods merchant or little Elijah and Elisha?”
Sally nodded. Her expression was grave. “I believe it does.”
“How so?”
“Well, a few days after the boys disappeared, Mr. Wallace came to church.”
“Church?” Elizabeth blinked. He certainly hadn’t struck her as a churchgoing man.
“Yes. You see, Sam and Julia were serving at the bread table. Mr. Wallace came up to them, once more accusing Sam of interfering with the boys. Sam insisted he had nothing to do with their disappearance, but the man wouldn’t believe him.”
“What happened then? Did he threaten Sam?”
“Worse. He threatened Julia and Rachael.”
Elizabeth gasped. “In what way?”
“He told Sam he might want to keep an eye on his wife and daughter. That someone might carry them off someday.”
Elizabeth’s blood chilled. Someone as vicious as the bounty hunter I met as a child, no doubt. Some men will do any despicable thing if you pay them enough. “Did you hear this personally or did Julia tell you?”
“I was standing not five feet from the bread table when it happened. I’ve never seen Sam look more frightened.”
I can imagine. “No wonder they left town.”
“Yes. They thought it prudent to do so until things calmed down. I only hope and pray they do.”
Elizabeth then asked her about Joshua and Abigail.
“I’m sorry,” Sally said. “I wish I could help you, but I am just as puzzled by their departure as you. I do hope Emily hears from them soon.”
“Indeed.”
The conversation then turned to their friend. Sally smiled. “Emily did such a wonderful job with organizing the Sanitary Fair. The proceeds gathered from the sales far exceeded anyone’s expectations. The funds will be a great help to the wounded soldiers and prisoners.”
Elizabeth knew it was a cause close to Sally’s heart. Julia’s brother, Edward, was one of those prisoners, and although he had never encouraged any romance before the war, Sally only ever had eyes for him.
How patiently she waits, Elizabeth thought. What kind of love that must be. She wondered then what it would feel like to be loved like that. She did not doubt Jeremiah’s sincerity, but their romance had barely had time to blossom, let alone stand the test of time. They had courted for only three weeks before he proposed. They had been engaged a bare two months before his death.
Elizabeth pushed the thought aside as Sally asked if she would care to stay for tea.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I would like to visit Emily’s parents today, as well, see if they know any more of Joshua and Abigail.”
Her friend smiled once more. “I’d say you’ve taken to your work as well as Emily has to hers.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. “I was rather terrified by it all at first, but thankfully, David was there to help me.”
Sally’s smile widened. “I’m happy for you. When I hear again from Julia, I will let you know.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate that.”
Elizabeth went then to see Mr. and Mrs. Davis. The couple immediately welcomed her inside. Emily’s mother hugged her and insisted she join them for tea in the parlor. As Elizabeth took her seat, Mr. Davis inquired as to how things were faring at the paper.
“Oh, well, sir, thank you.”
“And how is young Mr. Wainwright?” Mr. Davis asked. “I’ve been reading his articles on the convention. Good grasp he has of the situation.”
Elizabeth smiled. Coming from an attorney who specialized in constitutional law, he was giving David quite the compliment. She would be sure to write and tell him at first opportunity. Perhaps it would encourage him. She could tell by his letters that he was disheartened.
Mr. Davis continued, “If the Unconditionals insist on limiting voters’ rights, they’re going to lose support for freeing the slaves. I was speaking to my colleague Reverdy Johnson just yesterday, and even he said those men were playing with fire.”
And it’s the slaves who will suffer the burn, Elizabeth thought, for if a staunch pro-Union lawyer like Reverdy Johnson thought the proposals excessive, surely the more moderate citizens would, as well.
“Oh, enough of that, William,” Mrs. Davis gently chided. “Elizabeth didn’t come here to discuss the slave vote.”
“Actually, ma’am, I did.”
“You did?” Her eyes widened. Mr. Davis only chuckled, surely thinking Elizabeth was a woman of the world much like his daughter Emily.
“Well, in a manner of speaking, that is,” Elizabeth said. “I was wondering, have you heard from Joshua and Abigail?”
Husband and wife exchanged glances. She recognized immediately there was information to be had. Excited as she was by that, Elizabeth tried not to let it show. She knew she must be patient. David had once told her pressing a subject rarely worked and usually failed.
She quietly sipped her tea.
“Are we speaking off record?” Mr. Davis asked.
“Yes. Most definitely. I am simply concerned, as is Mr. Wainwright.”
“You needn’t be concerned about the article and sketch if that’s what this is about.”
“I needn’t be?”
Mr. Davis shook his head. “No. In fact, your work was most beneficial.”
Beneficial? “If I may ask, sir, how so?”
He smiled, then simply said, “Perhaps you should speak with Mr. Lodge.”
Elizabeth blinked. “The former bounty hunter?”
“Yes.” He left it at that, asking her about other assignments on which she was working.
“Since the fair is over, I am mostly covering the constitutional convention, as best I can from a distance.” Elizabeth was unable to resist returning to the former subject. “If I may, sir, how do you suppose Mr. Lodge could be of help?”
He smiled once more. “Again, my dear, I think it best that you and Mr. Wainwright speak to him. I believe you will find the discussion quite interesting, the time well spent.”
Indeed? Elizabeth forced herself to take another sip of her tea. She was grateful for what Mr. Davis had shared but was still a bit frustrated. She wondered if this was how David felt when he was seeking information and it was not quite forthcoming.
“Very well, sir,” she said to Mr. Davis. “We will do so. Thank you for recommending him. “
“It is my pleasure, dear.”
And with that, Elizabeth took leave, eager to learn just what Jack Lodge had to say.
Chapter Twelve
April stretched into May. The dismantling of slavery was nearly overshadowed by the questio
n of voters’ rights as the legislators pressed for measures intended to keep Maryland secure. The fighting in Virginia had resumed, and Lee and Grant were hacking their way through the wilderness at a devastating cost. In a month of campaigning, the South had lost thirty thousand men, the North, fifty thousand.
Each morning the state delegates took time to remember the fallen. Every evening as David walked to the telegraph office to wire in his articles, he noticed an increasing number of black armbands and widows’ veils.
May God have mercy on this land.
Elizabeth and her family were always on his mind. If her brother was still alive, he was most certainly in the thick of things. General Ewell, George’s corps commander, had been turned back at Spotsylvania courthouse. David had written the Martin family faithfully during the federal advance, offering his prayers for George and his hopes that in spite of the present difficult situation, the ladies were in good health.
They each answered his letters promptly. Jane always expressed thanks for his petitions for her son and promised prayers of her own for David. Trudy told of increased vigils at church. Elizabeth wrote that she was discouraged by the length of the casualty lists and the lack of expediency on the part of the Maryland legislature for the slaves.
This fighting weighs heavily upon my heart twofold, for I know that more soldiers on both sides will fall, and because of that, there will be an increased concentration on the war, not on securing freedom for the slaves.
David then learned she was creating accompanying sketches to his statehouse articles.
Mr. Carpenter is quite pleased with the results and says we make a wonderful team. But then, we already knew that. Didn’t we?
His heart warmed at that comment, even though he knew their present collaboration was providing little positive news. Still, David continued with his work. Every time he sent a wire, he thought of how Elizabeth was the first to read his words.
That made him smile.
The following week the Unconditional delegates succeeded in defeating the opposition’s attempts to include any form of apprenticeship or compensation to the slave owners in the new constitution. David rejoiced in that until it became clear they were determined to include a voter’s oath of allegiance in the document, as well. As the death toll for Union soldiers mounted, tempers flared. Some delegates demanded Southern sympathizers be banished from the state entirely.
There’s hardly a man in Maryland who doesn’t know of someone with at least some bit of sympathy toward the South. Who will possibly vote to free the slaves if it means sending friends and relatives into exile? If measures like this are included in the new constitution, the vote for emancipation is sure to fail.
David trudged back to his hotel room that night, even more discouraged than usual. Thankfully, a letter from Elizabeth was waiting for him. The sight of her handwriting alone lifted his spirit. He read hungrily of a visit with Mr. and Mrs. Davis and then an attempted one with Jack Lodge.
Do not worry. Your article did not give our friends any trouble. Mr. Davis said that the work had actually been a help. When I asked him what he meant by that, he just smiled and said that we should speak to Mr. Lodge. He wouldn’t tell me why. I am eager to find out just what the man knows, as I am certain you are, as well.
David chuckled to himself. She’s not only an artist. She has the makings of an investigative reporter.
Elizabeth continued:
I tried to pay the man a call, but he was unavailable. However, listen to this! His housekeeper told me he is in Annapolis! He is hoping to speak with some of the delegates before they break for summer recess. Oh, David, is this not the guiding of Providence? I’ve no doubt you’ll be able to find him and discover the truth.
His blood was pulsing. Indeed I will, he thought. After a month of discouragement, he was in need of good news.
Elizabeth then closed the letter by saying she was praying for him.
Let us know when you are due to return. Mother says she will have supper waiting. Trudy and I will meet you at the train station. I have missed you so.
That simple sentence alone was life to his bones. The state legislature would begin summer recess in two weeks. Surely he could locate Lodge before then. David quickly found pen and paper. He wrote to thank Elizabeth personally for the news and tell her when she could expect his arrival.
In the days that followed he searched for Jack Lodge on the statehouse grounds, canvassed the local inns and taverns. Finally late one afternoon, David located him on a harborside bench. The formidable, scar-faced former bounty hunter was feeding stale bread to the gulls. He recognized David at once.
“Mr. Wainwright,” he said, smiling and immediately extending his hand. “Good to see you again. Are you in town covering the convention?”
“I am, and I’ve been informed that you are here on similar business, as well.”
He offered David a place on the bench and tossed the last crumbs to the circling gulls. “Yes. I came to speak with any delegate who will listen to me. I want to tell them what I have seen over the years.” He paused. “I want to tell them what I have done. The legislature needs to understand what the slaves have suffered all these years.”
“I want to hear of your efforts,” David said. “I believe many readers would, also.”
“I’d appreciate that. Perhaps you could come with me when I meet with the delegates.”
“I’d like that. Have you been granted any appointments?”
“I’ve managed to gain the interest of a few delegates, but I have been told I must wait until after the summer recess to speak with them. Will you be returning to Annapolis when the men reconvene?”
“I will.” At least Peter had said that was the plan.
“Good.”
“Mr. Lodge, there is something I’d like to ask you.”
“Oh?”
David told him of Elizabeth’s attempt to visit and what William Davis had said. Lodge stroked his beard but said nothing.
“I assure you,” David said, “my interest in the matter, as well as Miss Martin’s, is strictly personal and entirely off the record. We are simply concerned. Sam and Julia Ward are friends of ours. Abigail Davis is, as well.”
“I believe you,” Lodge said. He then proceeded to tell him what Elizabeth had discovered already, how Wallace had threatened Sam and his family. “That young man was telling the truth when he insisted he wasn’t involved. He didn’t take those boys. The only thing he is guilty of is telling you to interview me.”
David’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean by that?”
“You and Miss Martin are at the center of all this, you know.” And then Jack Lodge spelled out the story in its entirety.
* * *
David was to arrive Friday evening on the six o’clock train. Excitement reigned in the Martin home. Elizabeth’s income had fattened the family purse, and her mother intended on making David’s homecoming meal a grand one. She went to the market and purchased plenty of fresh fruit and coffee. Trudy pressed her best dress, a lovely silk gown she’d not worn since before the start of the war, then even went so far as to sew some newly crocheted lace on the sleeves.
All her primping and preening made Elizabeth think of her own clothing. Although she no longer wore black, she was growing tired of gray. Going to the wardrobe, Elizabeth pulled out a beautiful hunter green gown that had once been her favorite. Delicate lace and beading adorned the bodice. She was standing in front of the looking glass holding the dress to her chin when Trudy walked in.
“Oh, Beth! Are you going to wear that one?”
Elizabeth immediately laid it aside. “No. I was just looking at it.”
Trudy took it from the bed and once more held it to Elizabeth’s chin. “You should, you know. It suits you. It sets off the color of your eyes.”
; Elizabeth did so love the gown, but it hardly seemed appropriate. “I can’t. It’s far too frivolous, too celebratory.”
Trudy lowered the dress. “But haven’t we much to celebrate? The impending end of slavery? David’s return?”
Indeed. The thought of his arrival brought a flutter to her chest, until a heavy dose of guilt quashed the sensation. It is only natural that I be eager for his return, she told herself. I’ve missed working with him. But, business aside, Elizabeth had to admit she had also missed those clear blue eyes, that Boston accent and bashful grin.
Her guilt grew. It isn’t David I’m thinking of...it’s Jeremiah, surely.
Trudy was still busy fingering the gown. “You know, we could remove the fancy trimmings, make it appropriate for your stage of mourning.”
My stage of mourning—yes...
“It would be no trouble.”
Elizabeth stared at the gown. It was such a beautiful shade of green. What would be the harm in wearing it, just for one night? It isn’t as though I’m wearing the dress so David will take notice of me, she told herself. That would be silly. He would never take notice of me like that, anyway. “Have you any black ribbon?”
“I do.”
“Perhaps we could put that in place of the lace and beading.”
“Capital idea!” Trudy said, borrowing one of David’s expressions. “I’ll fetch the sewing basket.” And she ran off to do just that.
The following evening the two sisters waited eagerly at the Camden Street station. They stood on the crowded platform, beneath the clock, waiting for the first sign of the Annapolis train.
Wheels chugging, steam puffing, it finally came into view. A parade of women in feathered bonnets, businessmen and federal soldiers soon stepped off the train. Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat when at last David appeared. He looked quite fashionable in his summer straw hat and linen sack coat.
He’s home, she thought.
Trudy immediately raced to embrace him. David hugged her and gave her a brotherly peck on the cheek. Watching, Elizabeth longed for him to greet her the same way. Instead of a kiss on the cheek, however, she wondered what it would be like to have his lips meet hers.
Second Chance Love Page 18
