The Liberator Series Box Set: Christian Historical Civil War Novels Page 26

  It came as no surprise, then, that when Matthew rose from the table and started for the front door, so too did O’Malley.

  “Where are you going, Daniels? To locate your lost little flower?”

  The muscles in his jaw tightened, but Matthew kept his face passive. “That would prove unnecessary. No, what I seek is a barber.”

  O’Malley cocked a brow. “I suspect you doubt she’s actually here, same as I. Why, then, I wonder, carry on such a charade at the table?”

  He stuffed his hand in his pocket. “Why rouse animosity toward her? She’s not even aware of your schemes. If she has gone, it is likely only to take the opportunity to see Washington.”

  O’Malley didn’t look convinced. “If she does not return soon, Daniels, it’s on you. I don’t care what you do with her after this is finished, but until then, I want everyone close.”

  Matthew drew his lips into a line and stalked out the door. O’Malley was paranoid. What harm could Annabelle possibly do? She probably just needed a little time away from male company, or she wanted to see the city.

  He offered himself any number of reasons as to why she would have slipped out without a word. None of them felt valid. The look on her face this morning when he’d found her on the stairs didn’t bode well, but she wasn’t his captive, and he wouldn’t treat her as one. He shoved his hat low on his head and went in search of a hot shave and a haircut.

  He’d almost refused the notes O’Malley had pressed into his hand last night. A stipend, O’Malley had said, in case he was in need of anything to aid with the cause. Well, he thought a trip to the barber was necessary enough. What else would he spend it on? Apparently, his job was to restrain the president, but since they planned on overtaking Lincoln’s carriage and trapping him inside, Matthew couldn’t see what part he really played.

  He wandered down the street, nodding at bundled-up pedestrians and wondering how much longer the winter would drag on. An unexpected ache settled on him for unappreciated spring days spent at Westerly.

  Two streets later, a silversmith’s sign caught his eye, and he ducked into the store before giving it any real thought.

  “Morning, sir! How may I be of service?” said a young apprentice, his thick apron speared with soot.

  Matthew felt foolish. “Uh, well, I….” He shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”

  “Ah, trying to decide on a gift for a young lady, I assume?” said a voice behind him.

  Matthew turned to see an older gentleman with a set of thick spectacles perched on his nose. The man wiped his hands on an apron identical to the young apprentice’s and then held one out to Matthew.

  Matthew shook his hand and gave a small chuckle. “Indeed. I suppose you see many a confused man?”

  The shopkeeper’s eye glimmered. “Quite. Now, let’s see… what would she like? Jewelry? I have a nice necklace any young woman would swoon over.”

  “No. I was thinking something…different.”

  The shopkeeper scratched his head, then waved a hand. “Come with me.”

  Matthew followed him through the shop and into the work room beyond, where a smelting fire warmed the room such that Matthew wanted to remove his coat.

  “Perhaps this?” The man lifted a small figure up for Matthew to inspect.

  He took it and turned it over in his hand, guessing at the weight. It would take nearly all his notes…but, wouldn’t it be worth her smile?

  Matthew nodded. “Perhaps. It might do.”

  They haggled on a price until Matthew still retained a few of his Union jacks to cover a shave. After paying the man, wrapping his gift in a handkerchief, and stuffing it in his pocket, Matthew pushed open the door and headed back into the cold.

  From the apprentice’s directions, he found a barber a few streets over and allowed himself the long-lost luxury of a good shave. He didn’t even feel guilty about turning over the last of his funds. He’d become a detested deserter for O’Malley. A good shave hardly made them even.

  When Matthew returned to the house, he found it had erupted in a flurry of activity. He closed the door behind him and watched quietly for a moment as O’Malley and his lackey wrapped several rifles into a blanket. O’Malley gestured to Harry. “Take these and send them on ahead. Mrs. Surratt has allowed for our man to store them at her home in Surrattville. They will be there, should we need them.”

  Harry nodded to Matthew as he walked past him and toward the rear of the house. Matthew turned his gaze to O’Malley. “What’s he doing?”

  O’Malley looked at him as if he were a dullard, but it only lasted for a second before the practiced smile fell on his features once again. “I thought you also heard my instructions.”

  “I did. I am just wondering why you need a storage of weapons sent to another town, when we are intercepting him and traveling to Richmond.”

  O’Malley waved his hand. “Merely a precaution. It is a shame you missed them. It would have been good for us.”

  “Missed who?”

  “Mrs. Surratt’s son, John, and Mr. Booth himself.”

  “That actor?”

  “More importantly, the man who has given us the necessary information to carry out our plan. But no matter, you will see both tomorrow, and by the time this is finished, you will be well acquainted. Think on it, man! Two days from now, we will all be heroes!”

  “Did he give you the information on my brother?”

  O’Malley’s brows drew together. “What?”

  Matthew took a step closer, his height towering over the smaller man. O’Malley looked unconcerned. “Oh, of course. I did ask, as I told you I would. Booth is working on it. Takes time to find these things, you know.”

  Matthew studied O’Malley and wondered at the changes in him. Was this the same man he had shared a fire and hardtack with? One of the men who’d laughed over a deck of cards as they’d tried to pass the grueling winter days? It had only been a few weeks, but that life seemed to be ages ago. Much had changed. Had he ever really known this fervent man with something haunting in his eyes?

  In that moment, Matthew knew that O’Malley would not divert his attention into finding George’s location. All that mattered to him was to see Lincoln gone.

  “Why do you hate him so?” Matthew asked softly.

  O’Malley feigned confusion. “What?”

  “Something tells me it is more than patriotism that drives you.”

  Sunlight drifted through the room, and everything fell so quiet that Matthew could hear his own breathing. Suddenly, O’Malley’s façade dropped.

  “Hate him? We all should hate him!” O’Malley bellowed, his face darkening. “Who sent soldiers into our lands to destroy our homes and our families? Who unleashed Sherman upon us to burn all that stood in his way?”

  O’Malley’s eyes bulged in his reddened face. Matthew took a step back. “What did you lose, David?”

  “Everything,” he growled. “When you return to your land to find your crops smoldering and your burned son lying in your dead wife’s arms, then you can tell me if he is someone to hate.”

  O’Malley spun on his heel and left Matthew staring after him. He’d known O’Malley had lost his family before he’d joined the Confederate Army. He’d also seen O’Malley engage the enemy with an intensity few men had shared. But, he’d focused all of his loss and anger on a single man? He blamed Lincoln for it all?

  What would he do if he were left alone with the president…?

  “Captain Daniels?”

  Matthew spun to look at Annabelle standing in the doorway. Sunlight danced off her golden hair and across her lovely face. He offered a tight smile.

  “Good morning, Miss Ross. We missed you at breakfast.”

  “I’d like to speak with you, please.” She said, giving no explanation for her disappearance.

  “Of course. Come, sit.” He gestured to the couch.

  Annabelle twisted her hands in front of her and glanced around. “Somewhere else, perhaps?
”

  Matthew offered his arm. “A walk, then?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “But not too far.”

  He held open the door for her, and they descended the steps on the front of the house. She released his arm as soon as she stepped from the bottom stair and strode forward. Matthew matched his stride to hers and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “What is it that you are not telling me?” she asked.

  His heart rate increased. Was there anything he could say that would both gain her trust and not put her in danger? They were nearly done with this thing. He would see them to Richmond, be sure O’Malley kept his word about George, and then be finished with them all. She glanced at him, and the mistrust in her gaze flooded him with guilt.

  “I am not sure what you mean.”

  Her look of disappointment was worse than her suspicion. “I grow tired of these games.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I know. But please believe me when I tell you I have only your best interest at heart.”

  She snorted. “I should be the one to decide that, not you.”

  Her words cut as surely as any blade. “Again, I offer my apology.”

  She looked up at him with eyes as blue as the sky, and he nearly stumbled into a man walking the opposite direction. The fellow raised his cane at Matthew and grumbled something before passing on the other side of Annabelle.

  “I should not have brought you here,” Matthew said low. “I came to reach an informant who would be able to tell me where my brother is being held. I am told they are working on it. Once I have the information I need, then I will go find George. I sincerely hope you will stick with me just a bit longer, Annabelle. I want to keep my word to you.”

  They had finished making their way around the small square of buildings where Surratt’s was located and were nearly at the boarding house again. Annabelle said nothing more until she had ascended the steps without his aid. She turned to look down on him when she reached the landing.

  She searched his face earnestly and his insides twisted.

  Please. I cannot give you knowledge that might see you arrested.

  He took the steps two at a time and reached into his pocket. “Here. I have something for you.”

  She stared at the bundle in his outstretched hand and then looked at him curiously. “What’s this?”

  “Just a little something to mark your day of birth.”

  Her eyes widened, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread onto his lips.

  “You remembered my birthday?”

  He shrugged. “Of course. Here. It’s not much.”

  She gently took it from his hand and unwrapped the cloth, revealing a small silver horse about the size of her palm.

  She smiled, and he was right. The twinkle her smile brought into her eyes was worth all he’d spent.

  “It is quite pretty.”

  “It’s a token of your bravery during our long trip here. I hope that each time you look at this little horse, you will think about how you made it through war and strife and survived many days upon horseback and too many nights out of doors.”

  Her lips parted slightly, and he felt a heat stir within him. “I hope you will look at this trinket, and no matter what happens, you will always remember that you are the strongest woman I have ever known. You will remember that you are capable of anything.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and one spilled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with her glove. She drew a long breath and clutched the trinket to her chest. “Oh, Matthew.”

  The way she said his name filled him with longing, and he stepped closer. She looked up at him, her bright eyes blinking rapidly. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, drawing his attention to her mouth.

  Without giving it proper thought, he lowered his head a fraction. Suddenly, she gasped and took a step back, hurt chasing away the light in her eyes. She shook her head.

  “Goodbye, Matthew.”

  She dashed into the house and left him standing on the landing, feeling more lost than he ever had before.

  “All is prepared. Tomorrow afternoon!”

  Surratt Boarding House

  Washington

  March 6th, 1865

  Annabelle paced the room and wrung her hands in front of her.

  “Miss Belle, you’s gonna wear a hole in the rug.”

  She paused and looked at Peggy, then resumed her pacing. “He remembered my birthday,” she blurted.

  Peggy started. “That’s what you’s pacing about?”

  “He lied to me.”

  “’Bout your birthday? Humph.” Peggy rolled the blanket in her hand a little tighter and stuffed it into the carpetbag. “It won’t close, but I don’t think it’s gonna matter.”

  Annabelle gaped at her. “Peggy! Are you listening to me?”

  “’Course I is, child. But, I don’t see how what you’s sayin’ needs to stop me from gettin’ this here stuff together. That driver gonna be here first thing in the mornin’.” She squeezed the bag against her chest as if she could force the contents to get smaller just by mere pressure.

  “I’m not going.”

  Peggy dropped the bag on the ground, her gaze darting to Annabelle. Annabelle put on what she hoped was her best you-won’t-change-my-mind face.

  Peggy lifted her brows. “That so?”

  Annabelle lifted her chin a notch. “It is.”

  “Hmmm. Just yesterday, you was the one sayin’ we needed to get out of here as quick as we could.”

  She had. She’d even located a shady-looking man who had agreed to take her to her grandmother in New York. But she’d have to give him Mother’s necklace. He’d said her Confederate currency was worthless, but that diamond would cover his troubles. She thought it would cover three trips, but he’d insisted the added danger upped the costs. She should have never showed it to him.

  She clenched her teeth. “I’m not going to run north.” She dropped her voice. “They are going to kidnap the president, Peggy. We have to do something.”

  “I thought we already done something. It was a right miracle to find his driver,” Peggy said.

  That couldn’t be denied, and she was thankful for it. Still, anxiety sat heavy in her gut. “I have to see what happens. What if he didn’t believe me? If nothing else, we need to follow them.”

  Peggy’s eyes flew wide. “We ain’t doin’ no such thing!”

  Annabelle shushed her. “Lower your voice. They can’t know we are on to them.”

  Peggy made a low sound in her throat. “What you’s sayin’ is too dangerous.”

  “We won’t let them see us. We won’t engage anyone. But, Peggy, if they succeed, shouldn’t someone know where they have gone? If we can’t stop it, we could at least be able to let the law know where to begin their search.”

  Peggy scowled.

  “You know it’s the right thing.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Why don’t we just find the law now? Before they try and get him?”

  Annabelle shook her head. “We’ve been over this. You know we can’t take that risk.”

  Peggy gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but I don’t see how you think we is goin’ to be able to make this work.”

  The corners of Annabelle’s lip tugged up. “I have an idea.”

  March 7th, 1865

  Matthew pulled the brim of his hat low over his brows. What did she mean by saying goodbye? His blood stirred, and he wasn’t sure if it was from what he was about to do or from the pained look on her face that he still could not forget. She’d stayed in her room all of yesterday as they’d finished their preparations, and Mrs. Surratt seemed perfectly content to have Annabelle’s meals sent up to her. O’Malley said he could return for her once they saw Lincoln to Richmond. But would she think he had abandoned her when he didn’t return today? How would she ever trust him?

  Curse it all.

  Matthew slung the saddle onto his horse and patted the animal’s neck. Anxiety crawle
d over him as if he’d stepped in a bed of ants. In the stalls next to him, O’Malley, Harry, Booth, and three others readied their horses.

  “You ready?” O’Malley asked through the stall bars.

  “Nearly.” Matthew pulled the cinch tight and tied it off. He turned to O’Malley. “Following you.”

  O’Malley led his horse from the stall and down the aisle, and Matthew joined in behind him, with the others following silently. A young groom at the door bent his head over a saddle he was polishing and paid them no mind as they passed.

  Once they mounted, Matthew expected to be told where they were going, but no one seemed inclined to discuss it. There was no choice but to follow. He tugged on the collar of his jacket and glanced at the heavy gray clouds hanging low in the sky.

  They took their horses into the muddy road, which never appeared to be free from the multitude that clung around Washington. Matthew didn’t think he could ever grow accustomed to living in such a crowded place.

  Booth took the lead, and the solemn group flowed through the unsuspecting people. At least Matthew was solemn. O’Malley practically seeped anticipation. By the time they stopped at a small restaurant at the edge of town, Matthew felt as if his stomach would twist itself into a knot.

  Inside, they gathered together without bothering to remove their coats and hats, let alone to sit down at one of the empty tables. Matthew glanced around, wondering where the serving girls were. It appeared they were alone.

  “Let’s go over the plan once more,” O’Malley said, his voice dripping with excited words that fell hollow on Matthew’s ears.

  Matthew expected it to be Booth who would deliver the final directives, but he and the Surratt fellow were hunched together and speaking in low tones. Matthew swung his gaze back to the man he had once thought a friend. Though O’Malley had taken the credit for being the brains behind it all, within moments of meeting Booth, Matthew had discerned who was the mastermind and who was the pup at his heels.

  The muscles in Matthew’s neck stiffened as he watched O’Malley’s animated hands fly along with his words. How dull did he think they were? They’d gone over this part at the boarding house already. Granted, Matthew had been a bit preoccupied with Annabelle’s flight up the stairs, but he’d still gathered what they were supposed to do, even if he didn’t know where they were going.