Blood Moon (The Mercy Carver Series Book 2)

by Jana Petken

  Mercy felt the weight of responsibility fall off her in shovel loads. Nelson did not need her anymore. She was glad, for she would slip away soon. Her plan was already in place, and her desire to go to Jacob was overwhelming. Nelson would not try to follow her when she left, but she would go with a lightness of heart, knowing that he had found his way in the world.

  She shivered. Every time she thought about leaving, she felt the same nervous anticipation and a small amount of fear. Living at the fort had become like a sanctuary from outside perils, and she had mixed feelings about rejoining enemy territory where men talked about whipping slaves and oppressing their freedoms. Were it not for Jacob, she would not even think about leaving. The Yankees had given her a home and a purpose. Isaac had been a constant and valuable friend, and he was extremely protective of her.

  She wondered if her letter had arrived safely in Norfolk. The fort’s commander, General Butler, had given her permission to mail her note. There was no harm in getting word to loved ones, he’d said most generously. It had been addressed to Dolly, but she prayed that it had somehow reached Jacob’s hands. If it hadn’t, she would have a lot of explaining to do when she saw him again.

  She looked at Isaac’s profile and strong features. She would miss him, probably more than she cared to admit. She would do him a terrible injustice in the coming days, and he might never forgive her. She sighed and shivered again with guilt and thoughts of a departure which would leave Isaac and Nelson hurt and angry.

  “Mercy, you’re shivering. Here, take my coat,” Isaac said.

  Mercy jumped at the sudden interruption. She smiled and nodded. “It’s not really cold. I think I’m probably just tired,” she said. She watched Isaac remove his blue uniform coat and allowed him to slip it over her shoulders. He gave her a smile, and she felt a small ripple of pleasure. “Thank you, Isaac. You spoil me. You have to stop it. I’ll become far too used to it and turn all soft and feeble.”

  “Good, that’s what I want to hear. I would do anything to make you happy and keep you safe. You must know that by now.”

  Isaac pulled the coat across her chest and buttoned it up. He smiled. The coat drowned her slim form. She looked as fragile as a small bird. “I have come to care for you a great deal. I’m so happy you’re here. I don’t think I’ve ever been so contented, which might sound strange considering I’m in the army and we’re at war. But that’s the truth, Mercy. Do you have any affections for me? Could you care for me?”

  “I do care for you. I care for you very much,” Mercy said. “I’m happy we found each other again. You have always been my gallant saviour, Isaac, from the very first night we met. I’m very fortunate to have you in my life.” She then told him that it was almost one year ago to the exact day that she’d walked across London Bridge. “It’s my birthday next week. I’ve just remembered. I’ll be nineteen – I’m getting old!” she said playfully.

  Isaac laughed. He loved her with a passion which grew in strength with every passing day. He was on the brink of telling her how he felt. He hoped that when he said the words that mirrored his feelings, she would tell him that she felt the same way. But he was also afraid that his declaration of love might be too sudden. He was not entirely convinced that her heart had healed or that Jacob was not still in there, haunting her. He pushed these thoughts away for the moment, deciding to keep the conversation light.

  “My dear, do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You are not yet twenty.” He laughed again. “A lot of woman your age are still ensconced at home, learning how to become ladies. You are still so young, yet you are already a great lady with more than enough memories to last a lifetime.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be a proper lady, Isaac,” Mercy laughed. “For one thing, I don’t talk like a lady, and I probably never will. I do agree with you about my memories, though. I do seem to have done a lot in a short period. Some of what I experienced wasn’t very nice, but then, my grandpa always told me that life was meant to be full of hardship for the likes of me. He said that the burden of my father’s suicide was mine to carry. Grandpa thought my father was a coward, and to make up for that flaw, I should be strong and accepting of every last rotten thing that happened to me, just to prove to the world that the Carvers were still a stoic lot and not a bunch of sissies.”

  Isaac was pensive for a moment. He would not have liked Mercy’s family; he was damn sure of that. Mercy was a woman who deserved to be happy and protected, not conditioned to simply survive life’s pitfalls because of some damn family code of honour. They were almost at Mercy’s quarters, and what had to be said could not wait for another day. He needed her to know right then that he was going to be the man to give her the happiness she deserved. He had planned his words, and this was the perfect opportunity to ask her the question that had been on his mind for almost a year.

  “Mercy, do you believe in fate?” he asked.

  Mercy nodded and immediately thought about Lina. “I do, Isaac. When Lina told me about her belief in destiny and fate, I wasn’t sure if I agreed with her argument. I suppose I couldn’t decide if all that had happened to me was because of my own stupid decisions or if there was some higher power at work. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, I guess I look at the world in a different way now. Bethel taught me that there’s a very thin line between living and dying. I watched good men fall inches from where I stood. I keep wondering why the bullets missed me and hit them – and I still don’t know. Did the good Lord choose those men to die? Did he decide before the battle that I should return here to see you, when I truly believed that all hope of seeing you again was lost?

  “I want to believe that fate has brought us together. When I got on that train in Portsmouth, I held to the opinion that you were bound to become a beautiful memory that would linger until I found my great love in Boston – whoever that might be. After that happened, I aimed to keep you in my mind and think of you as a pleasant acquaintance from the past – nothing more. But I figure the Lord has brought us together again, and I don’t aim on ruining the opportunity given to me.”

  “Isaac, please …”

  “Please don’t hush me. Let me finish,” Isaac said. There was no going back now. He loved her, ached for her touch, her smile, and her affections. “These past weeks with you have been wonderful. My feelings for you have only grown stronger, Mercy, and I feel it’s not only my desire but my duty to ask for your hand in marriage.” She could be under no illusions about his feelings now, he thought, watching her ever-changing expression. She was surprised. He could see it in her eyes. She needed time to think about this, and that was only fair.

  “Please don’t give me your answer until you have had time to think about it. I know how much you loved Jacob, and I understand if you need time to heal. But he is in your past, as is Madame du Pont and all your terrible ordeals. I offer you the future and all that it can offer. If I survive this war, I will give you a wonderful life in Boston. You will want for nothing. Let me care for you …”

  Tears gathered in Mercy’s eyes. Isaac, sweet Isaac, was the perfect man for her in every way. In these past weeks, she had come to admire him, and in moments of weakness, she had even wondered what it would be like to kiss him – but he wasn’t Jacob. He wasn’t the man she loved.

  “Isaac, I have to go in now,” she said. She unbuttoned the blue coat. She had to get away from him. She couldn’t breathe.

  Isaac took her hands in his and kissed them. He removed the coat from her shoulders and saw her to her door. “Promise me you’ll think on it,” he said. “Don’t break my heart sweet, Mercy. Tell me you’ll become my wife and make me the happiest man alive.”

  Mercy was consumed with guilt and no small measure of regret. She stood in front of a man who was handsome, clever, kind, and most importantly, believed in the same values she held so dearly – but he was not, Jacob. “I will think about all you have said and talk to you about it in the morning,” she told him. “I’m a little overwhelmed �
�� I’m sorry I can’t answer you tonight.” The tears settling in her eyes threatened to spill over. “Good night, Isaac. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Mercy forced herself to rise after what had been a sleepless night of constant debate over her decision to leave the fort and her plan to reach Jacob beyond the Federal front lines. Dawn had not yet broken through the cloudy sky, giving the impression that night still had hours of life, yet within minutes, the fort would awaken to a new day. She would leave this place behind and never return.

  She looked at the two sleeping women with whom she shared the room. They would open their eyes any time now. They would greet her with bright smiles, and she would lie to them about why she was up and dressed so early. She had told no one about her plans, not even Nelson, who would be very cross with her and probably unforgiving. She wouldn’t blame Nelson if he never wanted to speak to her again after this. She was running away without a word and would break their bond of trust and mutual respect.

  The decision to leave the fort this morning had been a difficult one. She was a coward, running from a man who had so graciously asked her to marry him. But she was also being true to herself and running to the man she loved. She stared out the window, which threw back her reflection. She would bring shame upon Isaac and would receive condemnation from Nelson, but surely there was no shame in following her heart’s desire.

  She didn’t like the woman staring back at her, she finally decided. She had selfishly toyed with Isaac in order to gain his trust. She had given him no reason to doubt her desire to remain with him at the fort. But she had only remained this long because of her injured wrist, and she had counted the days until she was sure she could manage on her own. She would break his heart today, and the guilt would remain with her forever. Oh, why did he have to love her? If only he could have remained the friend he’d once been. She would have confided in him, and she would have told him all about her plans to go to Jacob. He might even have helped her to get to Yorktown by way of a horse. Isaac’s love for her was very inconvenient, and Nelson’s loyalty towards Isaac had made this situation even worse.

  Love was the most powerful adversary she had ever known. It was undefeatable in her case. Isaac had attributes that Jacob did not possess. Isaac abhorred slavery. He was a healer and a man who cared nothing for wealth or position. He would make a wonderful husband and father. Jacob, on the other hand, would give his life to keep the Negros enslaved. He’d married a woman to save face and to honour his commitments to his plantation. He would teach his children to look down upon a race of people because of colour and caste. Yet she could think of no better man in the world to have by her side. Her love for him transcended all human flaws. It would never be proved, of course, but real love was a joining of souls, one lost without the other, forever dark and empty, with perpetual desire unquenched.

  She looked once more at her reflection. She was dressed in her old breeches, the first time she had worn them since her arrival. She had sewn the ripped material on the legs and had repaired the damage to the crotch, torn when Andrew had grabbed her waistband as she struggled to get into the boat. She smoothed down the creased shirt belonging to Isaac and rolled up the sleeve to her elbows. She tucked the oversized shirt into the breeches, fastened her braces to the waistband, and pulled them one at a time over each shoulder.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to bend Eddie’s hat into a more respectable shape. The hat had been soaked though with river water. Faded in colour, it was decidedly worse for the wear, but she was convinced that it held some magical powers. She strongly believed that it was a good omen, that it had kept her alive during some very harrowing circumstances. She would never part with this hat, she thought. They would have to bury her in it.

  She opened the door and put her face up to the early morning air. It was mild out. She was thankful, for she had a quite a way to go before reaching Yorktown and no coat to protect her should it rain. She put her hat on and pulled it down around her ears. It was time to go.

  She walked casually towards the kitchens, which sat only a block away from the infirmary. She looked up at the fort’s walls. Soldiers were on guard all day and all night, looking out towards the ocean, the causeway, and the James River. It was hard to believe they were defending the fort from the likes of Jacob and Hendry, for she found life inside its gates more peaceful than any other place she had been in the past year.

  As she reached the sprawling kitchens, her resolve weakened. She breathed deeply and tried to still the fluttering in her belly. “For God’s sake, calm yourself, woman,” she whispered. She would not turn around and go back to her room, but she had to admit that the undertaking that faced her had not seemed this daunting last night. She tried to focus on Jacob’s face, but it faded as quickly as she conjured it up and left her seeing only danger ahead.

  She banished her pessimism and scolded herself. All manner of things could happen should she fail, but thinking about them was only going to damage her confidence and dull her senses. God’s truth, she thought, if she had thought too long about everything she had to do, she would never have crossed London Bridge …

  Work in the kitchen was in full flow. Army cooks and three women were busy cooking grits, pork belly bacon, and scrambled eggs in large cooking pans that hung above open fires. Newly baked cornbread was still hot and smelling even more pungent as it mixed with the aroma of fresh, strong coffee.

  Mercy greeted everyone and set about making herself useful. Behind her, a Bostonian woman called out to her. “How are you this fine morning, Mercy? You look very strange in them clothes. I got a gown you can have if you’ve run out of things to put on.”

  Mercy smiled. “Thank you. That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on your offer, if you don’t mind. I hope the federal government learns of our sacrifice. I’ve been wearing the same dress every day for weeks. Wet or dry, it goes on my back.”

  “And very comely it is too,” an army sergeant called to her.

  Mercy walked to where the man stood and gave him her brightest smile. “Good morning, Sergeant. I’m so glad you’re here. May I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Yes, ma’am. What can I be doing for you?” He smiled.

  “Well, you see, I was wondering if I might accompany you to Newport News this morning. I have a real craving to get out of the fort for a little while. I’m feeling a little unwell, and I’m sure a nice ride with you would do me a world of good. And you could do with an extra pair of hands, couldn’t you?”

  Mercy watched him crack eggs into the pan. He was thinking about it, she thought. If he said no, she would have to wait until tomorrow or the next day to try again. “Please, Sergeant. Look at me. I’m not vain, but even I can see that I’m all plain and dull-looking. Surely you wouldn’t deny a woman a new ribbon for her hair. There are some things the fort doesn’t supply for us women – and it’s my birthday next week. I would like to make an effort with my appearance. Will you take me just this once?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’ll just run it past Major Bernstein first. I hear tell you’re his responsibility, and I don’t want no trouble with the doc.”

  “But he already knows I want to go to town. I asked his permission last night,” she lied. Isaac was the last person she wanted to share this with. “He wants me to go. He thinks it’s a lovely idea.”

  “There ain’t much room in the wagon for passengers.”

  “Oh, I won’t be any bother. I can ride as well as any man, and I’ll take care of any horse that’s available to me.” Mercy watched him, again grappling with his decision. A horse would be an added bonus, she thought. It would save her from having to steal one.

  “Well, I don’t reckon there’s any harm in it, on account of it being your birthday and all. Can’t be much fun being cooped up here for weeks at a time neither. Supply wagon leaves in half an hour – I’ll make sure there’s an extra horse for you.

  Mercy felt he
r thumping heart pushing against her chest. It had been awhile since she’d felt so stirred. She picked up a piece of cornbread and bit into it. She didn’t know when she might get the chance to eat again. She looked around. No one was looking. She picked up another two pieces and stuffed them in her pocket. She tightened the bandage on her hand and wrist, flexing her fingers backwards and forwards. The hand was still tender, but otherwise it was as good as new. She sat on a wooden box and counted the minutes. She smiled. I’m coming back to you, Jacob.

  Chapter Thirty

  A sigh of relief left Mercy’s mouth. The supply wagon and four soldiers halted at the garrison headquarters in Newport News. Mercy dismounted her horse and led it a little way up the street. She scanned the area, noting the absence of garrison soldiers. Where were they? she wondered. The town was far too peaceful. There were no horses, bar a few tied up here and there. This was not a good sign. She should have deduced that the garrison would concentrate its forces on the outskirts and all roads leading into Newport News from a northerly direction. They would not be sitting around the boarding house playing tiddlywinks, for God’s sake!

  Warwick Road would be the Federal’s defensive line, she imagined. She had heard soldiers talk about it in the fort. This same road would also be used by the Confederacy some miles farther north. To reach the Confederate lines, she would have to bypass the Federal lines. This would mean going through some rough terrain, keeping clear of main roads.

  She walked back down the street and found one of the soldiers she had come into town with sitting on the hotel’s wooden step. She planned her words carefully and sidled up to him. She smiled sweetly and gave a contented sigh for good measure. “It is such a nice morning, don’t you think, Private?”