Day Nine

by Clayton Spann

Monday, June 1

  Abraham Lincoln forced a smile. The four others assembled in his office did not change their somber faces.

  “I know you miss them,” he said. “I know they had become friends to us all.”

  “I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye,” said Stoddard. Stod looked particularly downcast.

  Stod had already left the Mansion when Edwin and Lily came to see Lincoln shortly after midnight. Nicolay was asleep in his bedroom across the hall. Elizabeth had not been around since sunset. Only he and Lamon had been here and awake.

  “They said to give you their regards, Stod.”

  That hardly placated the young man. But it was best he had been absent when they departed. Stod had done a poor job of hiding his feelings for Lily. He was lucky to have escaped a duel with Edwin.

  Lincoln understood the feelings; he yearned too for the strangely compelling woman. On the surface Lily appeared reserved. Some might even think her mousy. But, oh Lord, would they be mistaken.

  Fire lay beneath that creamy skin. She was tightly wound, ready for release with the right man. She was also smart and had spine. Young Stoddard could not read people as well as Lincoln, but Stod had arrived at the right conclusion. This was a woman to be prized.

  “Why’d they go, sir?” asked Nicolay.

  “They wouldn’t tell me.” Which was the truth. Edwin Stein—or whoever he really was—said Lincoln was no longer in danger. At least from the two Edwin sought.

  Elizabeth Keckley spoke dejectedly. “Won’t be the same without them.”

  “No, it won’t,” said Lincoln.

  “I hope you will keep Ed’s safeguards in place,” said Lamon.

  “We’ll talk about that later, Hill.” Lincoln spoke more sharply than intended. But damned if he would live like a prisoner anymore. When the family moved to the Soldier’s Home later this month, he would employ minimal guard.

  Stod still moped. He hung his head and rubbed his hands.

  She’s gone, my boy. For both of us. For good.

  Edwin said he and Lily could stay only two to four weeks more in this time. Then they would return from whence they came.

  They left a simple but foreboding behest. Over the next thirty days Lincoln was to act as if Edwin and Lily did not exist. That is, unless he did get word from them. Then he must exactly follow their instructions. In either case, the fate of the republic rested on Lincoln strictly adhering.

  Lincoln addressed Nicolay. “John, that account you and Hay are planning to write…”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “And all of you. Sooner or later, people will come to you with offers to write a book about your time at the Mansion. That is fine. But I want your oaths not one word of Edwin and Lily will appear. Promise me.”

  The four around his desk looked at each other. Then Lamon shrugged.

  “Nothing really happened when they were here.”

  “Except for being fine folks to us,” said Elizabeth.

  “Nobody took a potshot at the President, that’s what I meant. That’s all that mattered.”

  Not for Stod and me, thought Lincoln.

  “Your promises, everybody.”

  He got them.

  “I’ll remember those two,” said Nicolay. “Privately, of course.”

  Stod nodded painfully.

  “He was a man I’d go into a fight with anytime,” said Lamon.

  “Well,” said Lincoln as he stood, “let’s get back to work. And God speed them, where ever they are now.”