Keeping Secrets

by Joan Lowery Nixon

  She reached out and brushed the tangled curly fringe from Peg's forehead. "Sometimes, love, we have to deal with officials who are so self-important they are not interested in helping people who ask them for help. I've heard of a few others' unfortunate attempts to see the provost marshal—like John's friend, Julian Cassidy, who was wrongly suspected of being a south-em sympathizer and his bam burned to the ground. It makes me doubt that Miss Hennessey could get past all the officials in the military district headquarters standing between her and the provost marshal without some help."

  "Even if it's Mr. Crandon who's helping her?"

  "Even if it's Mr. Crandon."

  It was comforting talking to Ma, Peg decided. Ma had the answers to all the questions that had been bothering her. "Ma," she said, "Miss Hennessey's going to come to see you."

  "That's nice," Ma said. "Did she say when?"

  "No. Just that she's coming." Peg nearly bit her tongue trying to keep from saying any more about the visit. If she said aloud her wish to see Danny, then it might not come true. After all, it was nothing but a wish. Miss Hennessey hadn't said one word about Ma and Peg going with her. That had been Peg's idea.

  At that moment John Murphy clomped into the house with a bear hug for Ma and a big smile for Peg, and the conversation changed to the latest news about the war.

  "It's not the best of news," John told them. "Our Federal boys lost a major battle to the Rebs in Chicka-mauga, Georgia. I heard there were over thirty-four thousand dead, counting both sides."

  Ma shuddered and made the Sign of the Cross.

  Peg tried to imagine how many people would make

  up thirty-four thousand, but it was such an enormous amount that she couldn't.

  "So Major General William Rosecrans retreated, taking what was left of his army into Chattanooga," Mr. Murphy said. "The Rebs have the city and our army under siege by cutting off any suppUes that might come by way of the river."

  "When will all this horror end?" Ma murmured.

  "When we beat the Rebs, Noreen my girl. It's as simple as that."

  "Soon, I hope and pray."

  "I'm afraid it's going to get worse before it gets better."

  Ma's voice quavered. "So many wounded, so many dead."

  "Miss Thomas's brother came back from fighting the war because he was wounded," Peg said. "He lost an eye and wears a big black patch over the hole where his eye used to be."

  Ma thumped a chair against the table. "Stop! That's enough of this talk! I can't bear it! It could have been Mike who was injured or killed!"

  Peg's memory of Mike was strong. When he passed through St. Joe after his days as a drummer in the Union Army, he'd been simbumed, thinner, and more muscular than before, and his eyes had been dark with horrors he'd never forget.

  "Tell me about the battles. Tell me what happened to you," Peg had asked, eager to know what Mike had been through, the better to share his problems.

  But Mike's eyes had closed, and he'd turned away. "You wouldn't want to know," he'd replied so firmly that Peg hadn't dared to ask again; but after she'd gone to bed she'd heard, from down the stairway, the sound

  of voices and Ma's occasional murmuring and weeping.

  Ma closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened her eyes again. Calmly she said, "Supper's ready, and it's time for both of you to wash up."

  Later, after supper, the warm fragrance of the kitchen. Ma's soft humming over her mending, and John's deep, rumbling voice now and then reading aloud an interesting bit from his newspaper, wove a cocoon of contentment that shut out all thoughts of war from Peg's mind.

  Sleepily, Peg remembered that the next day would be Saturday. She'd help Ma with the laundry and the ironing to follow, and she wouldn't have to go to school. May would probably come to visit when her family chores were over. Maybe they could make comhusk dolls for May's little sister. Or lie in wait for Marcus and Willie and throw weed clumps at them. It might be fun to plot how to get Marcus's lucky arrowhead away from him. It was the most precious thing he owned, and he always carried it with him.

  Peg jumped when she heard a loud knock at the front door.

  "Who in the world could that be?" Ma asked.

  John strode to open the door, Ma and Peg right behind him.

  A boy tipped his hat and handed John an envelope.

  John fished in his pocket for a coin and gave it to the boy. As he shut the door he said, "It's a letter for you, Noreen. It has your name on it."

  Ma tore open the envelope and pulled out a creamy sheet of paper. "For goodness sakes," she said. "It's a note from Miss Hennessey. She's coming to see us bright and early tomorrow morning."

  "A strange time to come calling," Mr. Murphy said.

  "Especially when she's aware that Saturday's the day I do the washing." Ma shrugged. "Why did she have to pick Saturday morning?"

  Peg knew why. She had to be right! She clasped her hands together tightly, hoping with all her strength that her wish was going to come true, that Miss Hennessey was going to ask Ma and Peg to come with her to visit her sister—and Danny! Ma would agree.

  Or would she?

  Peg was tempted to beg and plead with Ma right now, just to make sure, but she couldn't. Miss Hennessey hadn't even asked yet.

  All during the night Peg's sleep was fitful. She crept downstairs the next morning while it was still dark, lit the oil lamps, and started a fire in the stove. By the time Ma came down to begin cooking breakfast, Peg had set the table, filled the tea kettle, and melted a little pork fat in a skillet, ready to fry flapjacks.

  "I made the batter," Peg said proudly.

  Ma measured tea into a pot and poured in the boiling water. "You're my morning sleepyhead. What pulled you out of bed so early?" She put the pot in the center of the table, paused as though she'd suddenly remembered something, and smiled teasingly. "Does your early rising have anything to do with Miss Hennessey's visit?"

  "I couldn't sleep, Ma," Peg mumbled. She gave an

  extra stir to the batter and dropped spoonfuls into the sizzling pan.

  "She surely won't be coming this early."

  "I know."

  Ma put a hand on Peg's shoulder and turned her so that Peg was looking into her eyes. "And what else do you know, love?"

  "Nothing real, Ma. Just guesses," Peg answered honestly.

  Ma picked up a broad spatula and reached across Peg to flip over the flapjacks. "You said Miss Hennessey's sister lives nearby. Exactly where is nearby?''

  With effort Peg kept herself from groaning aloud. Could Ma read minds? Unable to meet Ma's gaze, Peg shrugged and said, "When Miss Hennessey gets here you can ask her."

  Ma set a heaping plate of flapjacks on the table. "Sit down and eat, love." She nodded toward the stairs, which creaked under John's heavy footsteps. "I'll make the next batch for John."

  John didn't Uke to talk before breakfast, and Ma said nothing more about Miss Hennessey, to Peg's relief.

  After John had left for his blacksmith's shop Ma pinned up her sleeves and laid a flre on the cement block in the back yard. She placed the large, heavy boiler pan on a support over the flre, and she and Peg carried buckets of water to half-fill the boiler. Ma poured lumps of soft lye soap into the water and stirred the mixture with a long, thick stick until the soap had melted. Peg helped carry out armsful of soiled clothing, sheets, and towels, some of which were dropped into the simmering water, which Ma stirred endlessly, back and forth.

  Peg, on the other hand, listened for the sound of

  horses' hooves and buggy's wheels. Where was Miss Hennessey? It was already close to eight o'clock. Why hadn't she come?

  Peg jumped as a voice spoke from the open kitchen door. "Noreen! Peg! No one answered my knock, so I just walked in."

  Ma put down the stirring stick and smiled, as she wiped her hands on her apron. "You're always welcome in our house, Violet. You know that."

  Miss Hennessey sailed down the steps of the back porch stoop in a trim brown traveling
costume.

  "My, aren't you looking grand!" Ma said. "Would you like a cup of tea? We can leave the wash for a while."

  As she glanced at the boiler and the pile of clothing on the ground. Miss Hennessey frowned. "Oh, dear! In my excitement, I didn't stop to think."

  "Excitement?" Ma asked.

  "My sister Nellie! Did Peg tell you? I heard from Nellie, and discovered that she and my brother-in-law, Louis Parker, are now living on a farm right here in Buchanan County, south of St. Joseph!"

  "That's lovely for you," Ma said. "You said south of St. Joseph?"

  "Yes! Very near to the Swensons' farm where your son Danny lives." Miss Hennessey ducked her head, almost as shy and apologetic as she had been when she first came to St. Joseph. "In my foolishness I rented a horse and buggy. I was so sure that you and Peg would ride with me. It would give you the opportunity to visit with Danny."

  Ma held out an arm toward the washing. "As you see, I can't get away, Violet. Not today."

  Miss Hennessey took Ma's hand and squeezed it between her own. "Of course," she said apologetically.

  "I was so thoughtless not to have invited you ahead of time."

  Embarrassed, Ma began, "Violet, you were not thoughtless."

  But Miss Hennessey interrupted, her eyes dark with misery as she pleaded, "Oh, Noreen, will you please allow Peg to come with me, even though you can't?"

  Peg gasped as she heard Miss Hennessey add, "Maybe some women are brave enough to travel alone, but I'm not. Peg and I will be good company for each other, and I assure you she'll be perfectly safe. I even have a letter of safe passage signed by the provost marshal himself, in case we meet up with any patrols."

  "Patrols," Ma repeated and frowned.

  "We have no reason to fear the patrols." Miss Hennessey's eyes met Peg's as she said, "Peg is not afraid."

  Whatever qualms Peg felt about leaving Ma and traveling alone with Miss Hennessey vanished immediately. "Ma!" she cried, "The patrols are Union! They're on our side!"

  Miss Hennessey took a deep breath and spoke rapidly, not giving Ma a chance to object. "It's the south-em counties that have had so much conflict between patrols and bushwhackers. During the last few months there has been little trouble in Buchanan County. We'll be safe. I promise! I assure you I wouldn't make the trip myself if I thought otherwise."

  Twice Ma had opened her mouth to speak, but was unable to break into Miss Hennessey's plea. Now, however, she spoke up firmly. "My mind wouldn't be easy if Peg were away from home."

  "Ma!" Peg wailed. "I'm not afraid of patrols! The army's there to protect us! And if I go with Miss Hennessey, I could visit Danny!"

  To Peg's surprise Miss Hennessey let go of Ma's hand, pulled a handkerchief from her reticule, and dabbed at her eyes. "You're right, Noreen," she said. "You're right to feel that even though Peg would be under my constant, loving protection, I could never be able to take care of her as well as you could."

  Ma's face turned pink and she fumbled for words. "That's not what I meant, Violet."

  "I was so foolish to hope," Violet murmured into her handkerchief. "I haven't seen my sister for at least five years, and all I've been able to think of has been Nellie with her dear smile and happy ways. I should have asked you first. I shouldn't have depleted my much needed funds to rent the horse and buggy." She gave a loud sniffie.

  "Oh, dear. Come inside and sit down," Ma murmured. "We'll have that cup of tea while you tell me about your sister."

  A rush of excitement warmed Peg's chest. Was Ma weakening?

  Peg filled the kettle and listened quietly as Miss Hennessey said, "Nellie is two years younger than I am. She married just before our parents died—a good match with a fine man. Louis Parker is one of the Virginia Parkers."

  "I thought you said your family lived in Boston."

  "They did, but very briefiy. My grandmother on my father's side was becoming frail, so my parents moved to Boston to care for her. Then one day on the street . . . a runaway horse ..." Miss Hennessey broke down and sobbed into her handkerchief.

  Ma got up and brought her a dry one. She patted Miss Hennessey's shoulder and said, "I'm so sorry that I brought up unhappy memories."

  Miss Hennessey wiped her eyes. "It's all right,

  Noreen. I just hope you can understand how alone I felt, with Nellie and Louis so far away. You can imagine how thrilled I was when I discovered they're now close at hand."

  "Perhaps they can visit you in St. Joseph," Ma said.

  Violet climbed to her feet, her shoulders drooping. "Perhaps," she murmured, but there was no hope in her voice.

  Ma stood, too. She took a long look at Peg, then turned back to Violet. "You'll have Peg home again before too late?"

  "Before dark. I promise."

  Peg sucked in her breath. "Please, Ma?" she whispered.

  "If it weren't for the possibilities that patrols might stop you ..."

  Miss Hennessey pulled a folded piece of paper from her reticule and gave it to Ma. "Here's the letter General John Bassett wrote for me. You can see it's official. No one will stop us. Besides, there has been very little action lately in Buchanan County."

  "That's true," Ma admitted slowly, "but—"

  "Please!" Peg begged.

  With a sigh Ma gave in. "All right," she said. "Peg, put on your dress with the pleated skirt and for goodness sakes find a pair of stockings without a hole in them, and take a shawl. It's warm now, but the weather may change, and brush your hair and ..."

  Peg, her heart jumping with excitement, had never dressed so fast. She felt grown-up and brave and independent, and the best part was that she would soon see Danny again!

  She accepted the sunbonnet Ma gave her and tied the bow to one side, rather than under her chin, all the while pretending it was an elegant, feathered hat.

  She had time for a quick hug for Ma before she climbed into the buggy and set off with Miss Hennessey on their journey.

  As they rode through town, Miss Hennessey chatted pleasantly about Miss Kling's excellent food and told Peg amusing stories about some of the other boarders.

  "How long will you stay in St. Joseph?" Peg asked.

  "That depends upon circimistances," Miss Hennessey answered. "Mostly financial."

  Peg wasn't sure how much it cost to stay at a boardinghouse, but Ma had mentioned the word expensive when she'd talked about Mrs. Kling's boardinghouse to Mr. Murphy. "Why don't you stay with your sister and her husband?" she suggested.

  Miss Hennessey gave a flick to the reins, guiding the horse across the ruts in the road, before she looked down at Peg and smiled. "Their visit in this area is only temporary," she said.

  But so is yours, Peg thought. Oh, well She put the problem out of her mind. Grown-ups had their own way of thinking about things, and sometimes made them more complicated than they needed to be. Like when Ma had agreed to come to Missouri and marry Alfrid Swenson but instead fell in love with John Murphy, which left Mr. Swenson without a wife, so he married Ennie Pratka. Then Danny chose to stay with the Swensons, and Peg chose to live with Ma. Oh, Danny, Danny, Danny! Peg thought. Won't you be surprised to see me!

  The horse moved at a quick trot, and very soon they left St. Joseph behind. As the road followed the low, rolling hillside. Peg sucked in a deep breath of the warm air, lush with the damply bitter fragrance of tall grass.

  "It's so peaceful here," she said. "I love the countryside."

  "I do, too." Miss Hennessey smiled. "Away from the noise of constantly creaking cartwheels and the clop of horses and ..."

  Peg, startled as Miss Hennessey broke off, followed her gaze to a bend in the road ahead. Six Union soldiers, their uniforms streaked with dust, rode toward them.

  As the soldiers approached, a sergeant at the front of the group held up a hand, and Miss Hennessey quickly pulled her horse to a stop.

  Peg held her breath, frightened in spite of the fact that these were Union soldiers, here to uphold the law under martial rule. She and Miss Hennessey
had done nothing wrong.

  Three of the soldiers were young and seemed uninterested in either the buggy or its passengers, but one man, whose beard was shaggy and dirty with crumbs from recent meals, searched the wagon with his eyes, his gaze coming to rest on Miss Hennessey's reticule, which lay on the buggy seat.

  Miss Hennessey's gloved hands gripped the reins tightly, but her voice gave no indication of her nervousness. Instead, she smiled sweetly and said, "Good morning, Captain."

  "Not captain, ma'am. It's just sergeant, " he gruf-fed, but his chest swelled with self-importance. "Where are you bound for?"

  "My daughter and I are going to visit my sister," Miss Hennessey told him.

  Daughter? Peg was startled. Why did Miss Hennessey lie?

  Miss Hennessey fumbled through her reticule and pulled out the letter promising safe passage. "General

  John Bassett, the provost marshal of St. Joseph, gave this to me."

  The sergeant dutifully examined the letter, then handed it back. "You live in St. Joseph?"

  "Yes."

  "Where does your sister live?"

  "In Buchanan County. On River Road."

  He quickly glanced inside the buggy. "You haven't got traveling bags with you, so I take it you don't plan to stay long."

  "That's right. Just today."

  "I'd caution you not to return after dark. There's no telling who you might run into on these back roads."

  From the comer of her eye Peg shot a quick glance at the soldier with the beard, who was still looking at the reticule. Union Army or not, Fd hate to run into this one anywhere! Peg thought.

  "You may proceed," the sergeant said.

  Miss Hennessey smiled again, picked up the reins, and clucked to the horse. The soldiers rode past them with a great clatter, stirring up clouds of dust that caused Peg to cough.

  The moment they were out of hearing Peg asked, "Why did you say I was your daughter?"

  "Not now." Miss Hennessey's voice was low and quick.