by Jana Petken
“It is, ma’am. It sure is.”
“Do you think the rebels are near? Could they suddenly march in here? I’m probably being silly, but I have to admit that I’m a little nervous with this being my first time outside the fort without Major Bernstein.”
The soldier gave a vehement shake of his head. “Don’t you worry none about them rebels, ma’am. They ain’t got a snowball’s chance in hell of getting into this town. We got men on that main road leading north, and we got men all the way east of here to the north of Hampton. They ain’t gonna show their faces round here in a hurry.”
Mercy smiled again. “Thank you. And how far is Yorktown from here?”
“Well, let’s see. I reckon it’s about thirteen miles northeast of here, give or take.”
“Oh, I feel so much better knowing that. I would just hate it if those bad rebels were to come here and ruin everything. I suppose our brave soldiers are spread out all the way from here to Yorktown?”
“No, ma’am, we ain’t got the whole distance covered. The rebels have got some of Warwick Road some miles up.”
“Nonetheless, I’m grateful to you for putting my mind at rest. I feel safe enough to take my stroll now. May I fetch you something from the haberdashery store?”
The private tipped his hat and gave her a toothy grin. “That’s mighty kind of you, ma’am, but I ain’t got a hankerin’ for nothin’ except a hot bath and a pot of coffee. Don’t you stray too far now. I reckon we’ll be leaving in a short while.”
She thanked the private again and walked towards her horse. She patted the horse’s neck and looked towards the boarding house. The wagon was still being unloaded, but the soldier was right; it wouldn’t be long before the group returned to the fort.
She stared at the road leading out of town. The moment she rode away, her friendship with Isaac and Nelson would be over. There was no going back to the fort later. Gone would be dinners and conversation with Isaac, her special friendship with Nelson, and her ties to Camp Freedom, being set up for Negro runaways. Jacob is worth it, she told herself. She would give up everything and everyone in the fort to have the feel of Jacob’s body next to hers. He was her future.
She swallowed hard and took the horse’s reins in her hand. Enough, Mercy! she thought with a strengthened resolve. Just get on that bloody horse and stop thinking about it! She led the horse to the corner of the street and prayed to God that no one was watching her.
At the far end of the fields, which stretched for a mile, was Lina’s grave. The fields and woods beyond the graveyard were not hospitable to wagons, which meant that it would probably not be occupied by the army. It was hilly, and she was sure the ground would be soggy after recent rains.
These fields eventually stopped and met a dense wooded area, the same one she had travelled through with Lina and Seth the night they died. The thought of travelling that route again was terrifying. Grief still caused her eyes to fill up every time she thought about that night. She mourned Lina’s death. She also thought about Seth, the young man running towards freedom, and the two soldiers she had killed. She could not conjure up remorse for shooting them – she just couldn’t.
The journey with Lina that night had been difficult with the wagon, but it would not be so complicated now, on a horse. There would be plenty of cover should she spot a patrol. It would skirt Warwick Road for a good few miles and, with a bit of luck, would bypass the Federal’s defensive lines altogether. She believed that if she remained in the woods for as long as possible, she might just come out on the northern side of them. Then her only challenge would be not getting shot by Confederacy troops on the outskirts of Yorktown.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mercy approached the south of Yorktown with a cautious air. She looked up at the sky. Sunlight twinkled through the trees’ branches, casting slanting shadows on the ground, yet she shivered with a chill that had seeped right into her bones.
The route had been long and arduous, and it had taken its toll on her and her mount, who was breathing laboriously. She dismounted, removed her hat, and shook out her long hair.
She walked at a steady pace, yet her heart was thumping, her breathing unsteady. She could not be certain, but she sensed the presence of more than one person lurking in the vicinity. They were most probably watching her every move from within the woods that she had just left. They would be debating on whether or not she posed a threat, she thought. If she were not so scared, she would laugh, for what possible threat could she pose to anyone without her Colt? She steadied her breathing and walked on. She’d been vigilant and had avoided the main highway the entire journey. She’d long since passed the Federal lines and was, without a doubt in her mind, close to the Confederate defensive positions.
She had not seen a trench, a dugout, or any heavy weapons yet, but every part of her body tingled with the suspicion that rebels had spotted her and were following her for a reason – and they were closing in on her. A few times now, she had heard the soft swish of reeds and leaves from bushes being pushed aside.
The sound of soft-footed steps on ground lush with brush and vegetation were distinctly different from those of horses’ hooves flattening undergrowth and treading on loose branches, which snapped under heavy weight. There was also an entirely different sound when a wild animal, big or small, was close by. She had learned much this past year, first with Nelson, running and hiding, and then with Charlie, who had taught her how to distinguish every markedly different sound that nature and man provided.
These men were on foot, probably intent on stalking her for the last couple of miles before she met the Confederate Army. She was afraid. The thought of being stopped by men in this area hurled images of Lina and Seth into her mind. She could not go through anything like that again. Should they be hostile, she would probably die of fright. She must calm her fears. After all, she was unarmed, and with her mass of black hair blowing gently in the breeze, she could not be mistaken for a man. She would not be considered a hostile soldier, nor would she be deemed a threat to their hidden positions in the woods. So why would they shoot her?
She came upon a clearing and stopped walking. There were three directions remaining to her. The undergrowth directly north of her position looked as though it had never been trod upon by man or beast. The river sat far to her left, taking travellers westward towards the Richmond area and beyond. She did not want to go west. To the right was east and, most probably, Yorktown. Her journey was almost over. It would make no difference which route she took now, she believed, thinking more deeply about it, for the men tracking her would appear at any minute and would either show her the way or kill her. She strolled towards the other side of the clearing, her throat dry and breath uneven.
“Hold up there, lady,” a man’s voice shouted curtly behind her.
Mercy turned around slowly and put her hands in the air. Directly in front of her were three soldiers in grey uniforms. They stood some ten feet away from her. She remained still, her hands reaching upwards towards the sky. An innocent smile played on her lips. “Oh, thank goodness. Am I happy to see you boys,” she gushed cheerily.
The soldiers returned her friendly gesture with suspicious glares. They looked just as nasty as the men who had taken Lina and Seth’s lives, she thought. She cast aside the panic rising within her. She must not display fear. They would be even more suspicious if they thought she was hiding some secret motive for being alone in the woods.
“Hello,” she mumbled this time. The word sounded pathetic to her ears. “I’m a bit lost,” she added.
“I reckon you are. Where you headed?” one of the soldiers asked.
“I’m going to Yorktown to visit my fiancé. His name is Captain Jacob Stone. Do you know him?”
The three men moved closer. Mercy took a cautious step back, sensing that Jacob’s name meant nothing to them. “He’s a cavalry officer with the Portsmouth Ninth Brigade. I want to surprise him, but I’m not sure where he is exactly.” She pleaded for assistance with her ey
es, looking at each soldier in turn. Why were they not talking? Were they struck dumb? “He has a horse called Thor. I would be very grateful if you could take me to him or maybe find someone who knows him …”
“He’s with the Ninth, you say?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Mercy told the soldier.
“Where have you come from?”
“Newport News. I ran away from those Yankees. No one saw me leave the town, thank God. I didn’t go near the main road. I’m very tired – do you think I could have some water?”
A canteen was handed to her. They were still staring at her, she noted, but they were not glaring anymore. She drank the water and wiped her mouth with the back of her bandaged hand. “Thank you,” she said.
“What you done there? That don’t look too good,” one of the soldiers said.
“It’s not. It’s very sore, actually. It was all right this morning, but I think I might have strained it with all this riding today. I might need to see a doctor.”
The soldier nodded sympathetically and said, “Well, don’t you worry none about them Yankees. We’ll keep you real safe and help you find Captain Stone. The cavalry are set up not far from here. It would be our pleasure to escort you to their encampment, ma’am.”
Mercy allowed a long luxurious sigh to leave her mouth. Blimey, she must have been holding her breath for the longest time, she thought. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s the least we can do, seeing as how you’ve made it this far. This ain’t no place for a pretty lady to be wandering all by herself.”
“I know that, but I just had to come here, and I’m not going back. I don’t like those Yankees. They’re not very gentlemanly – not like Southern men.”
The three men grinned shyly. Mercy took the horse’s reins and smiled again. She could feel the happiness shining from her eyes. She would see Jacob shortly. Her heart was finally going home. “Shall we go, gentlemen? I’m so hungry I could just about eat an entire hog.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The field, which sat in front of the schoolhouse, had been fenced in to allow horses to graze. A lack of exercise not only for the horses but within the ranks of the Ninth Cavalry was becoming a problem. Boredom had set in like a rotting disease, leaving many in the brigade irritated and on edge. Fights were breaking out between the men, and more often than not, these fights were allowed to play out.
Jacob vigorously brushed Thor’s coat, frowning with worry and dissatisfaction with life in general. He and the horse had ridden in circles around the field’s perimeter, but nothing, not even an hour’s canter, could relax Jacob’s tense muscles. He had awoken this morning in a rotten mood, with the same black cloud of anger and disappointment that had followed him to bed the previous night and every night in the past week. It hung over him, imprisoning him in perpetual gloom.
He wanted to scream his frustrations at God, ask the Almighty to help fix some of his problems. Elizabeth’s situation was giving him nightmares. Mercy was forever on his mind, evoking desire and perplexity at her tomfoolery. His plantation had been abandoned. If he thought for a minute that God would pay him heed, he’d beg him for help. But God no longer listened to him or gave a damn about his troubles.
Jacob heard Sergeant Tybrook’s gruff voice shouting out his name. Damn it, was he to have no time to himself, he cursed. He continued to brush Thor’s mane. If he didn’t turn around, Tybrook might take the hint and deal with whatever it was that brought him here. “What is it, Tybrook?” he finally shouted back impatiently.
“There’s a woman come callin’, sir. She’s asking for you. She’s causing quite a stir in the schoolyard.”
Jacob swung round to face Tybrook. The sergeant stood grinning from ear to ear, his arms resting nonchalantly on top of the fence. “She’s a real looker, Captain,” he said.
Jacob’s belly lurched. “What does she want?” That was a stupid thing to ask, he thought. Was it Mercy? “Did the woman give her name?”
“No, sir, I didn’t think to ask – just got my ass here as quick as I could. I left her in the teacher’s room at the schoolhouse. I didn’t figure she should be coming through this here field with slack-jawed men staring at her the entire way.”
“Sergeant, get my horse back inside the paddock. I’ll be in the schoolhouse if you need me. Can you keep the men under control for an hour or so?”
“You got it, Captain. I’ll make sure no one steps near that schoolhouse door. No, sir, you take all the time you need.”
Jacob held a serious expression. He doubted if there was a man in his brigade that had not heard about his wife being charged with murder or about Mercy being his mistress. Rumours spread like wildfire, and they were impossible to halt once they got out of hand. He had no doubts that Mercy would be waiting for him. No other woman would have made this journey alone, he thought. Only Mercy, and no one but Mercy, had that measure of courage.
Jacob passed two soldiers idling outside the teacher’s room. He waved them away and then stood at the door for a second or two. His heart was thumping. Mercy had come back to him.
Mercy turned from the window. She stared at Jacob’s face. His beard had grown and was untidy. His eyes had pockets of dark shadows underneath them. His lips were slightly parted, and his dark stare was filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. She crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck. “Jacob – oh, Jacob! Thank God I found you!” She clung to him and then lifted her mouth to kiss him.
Jacob loosened her arms from his neck, put them by her side, and stepped back out of her reach. “Mercy, it’s good to see you,” he stated.
She first felt baffled and then afraid. “Jacob, what’s wrong? Please say something more than it’s good to see me…”
“What are you doing here, Mercy?” he asked, as one would a stranger.
“What? I don’t understand. What the bleedin’ hell do you think I’m doing here? I’m here to see you, of course. I missed you – I had to come …”
“Well, maybe you should have stayed in Fort Monroe with the Yankees,” he said curtly. “The letter you sent to Dolly weeks ago with news of your stay in the fort got here eventually. Of course, there was nothing in it to suggest any reason as to why you went there, so I can only imagine you had a need …”
Mercy gasped at Jacob’s hostile tone. She had expected a telling off from him – but not his aloof stare and icy words. “Jacob, I couldn’t say everything I wanted to say in a letter,” she told him. “The Yankees read it before it was sent to Norfolk – and I really didn’t want to go to the fort.”
“So you just stumbled upon it by accident?” he asked. His voice was gruff and laced with sarcasm.
“No …”
“Then why don’t you enlighten me – why were you there?”
“It was because of the … the Underground Railroad,” Mercy stuttered. “I didn’t mean to go that far. I didn’t want to get on the boat. I was only supposed to take the slaves to the wharf, and then I planned on going back to Dolly’s house.”
“Go on.”
Mercy swallowed. “Well, you see, I got shot at and had to run … and a dog killed one of the slaves …”
“Lord have mercy, woman! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Jacob shouted.
“No, of course not! Things just got out of hand. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying in the boat with a broken wrist and my belly ripped. It was all just a bit of bad luck. I can’t swim – and men were shooting at us. I couldn’t get back to shore …”
Jacob slumped in a chair in front of the desk. He put his elbows sat on his knees. His hands brushed through his hair. He looked up at her and shook his head. “Do you know what you have put me through? I received your letter days ago, yet according to Dolly, you’ve been missing for weeks. When you go on your adventures, do you ever think about those you leave behind? Does it never occur to you that putting your life in danger affects not only you but also everyone who knows and loves yo
u? Tell me why you have no contentment unless you’re risking your damn life.”
Mercy had not been told off like this for a long time. Jacob had never spoken to her in anger – ever. She was tired, and all she wanted was the feel of his arms around her, not a scolding as if she were a child in this schoolhouse! “That’s not fair,” she sobbed. “It’s isn’t always my fault. I admit that Lina’s death might have been avoided had I talked her out of taking Seth that night. But you didn’t know her as I did. There was no talking her out of anything once her mind was made up – and I couldn’t let her go alone. I probably didn’t need to get involved with runaway slaves in Norfolk – but all the other calamities were not of my making … Well, maybe I shouldn’t have run away with Nelson either – and maybe I shouldn’t have crossed that bloody bridge in London!”
Jacob cursed himself. He was a cruel bastard. She was standing before him crying, sunk in misery at the anger and coldness with which he had welcomed her. Maybe it would be better for her if she hated him. God knew he hated himself.
“I know your troubles are not always of your making,” he said, his tone softening, “but the thought of you getting shot at while other women are at home safe and protected is not acceptable to me. Damn it, Mercy! Why can’t you see the danger you invite into your life?” He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her tears dry, but there was so much more to say. “How is your wrist?”
“It’s getting better,” she said.
“How did they treat you at the fort?” he asked.
“All right – very well. Isaac and Nelson are there. They looked after me,” she murmured like a scolded child.
Jacob’s eyes widened. Isaac was in Virginia? Dear God, she had spent a month with him. He stifled the jealousy he felt. He had no right to be jealous, not anymore. “Is Isaac well?” he asked.
“Yes, he is. Nelson is happy enough too. I have to admit that I quite enjoyed my stay there. I would not have left, but for you.”
