In His Eyes: A Civil War Romance Page 3

  Mrs. Hatch’s eyes darted to the stairs and back to Ella. “That child is diseased, girl. Best you leave it up there with her.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ll have some of the boys dispose of them.”

  Outrage swelled in Ella, and she grasped the baby tighter. “You’ll do no such thing!”

  Mrs. Hatch’s eyes hardened. “It’s what’s best.”

  “I think not. I am going to find him a home.”

  “Do what you like, girl. But all you’ll do is prolong the inevitable and make that child suffer. Ain’t no one going to want him, and even if they did, not many are left in these parts that could feed another mouth.”

  Ella pressed her lips into a line. Was the woman right? She glanced down at the boy. Even so, she could not live with herself if she didn’t at least try. “I must take him.”

  Mrs. Hatch pointed a bony finger at her. “Then you best gather what belongs to you and be out. And don’t even think of coming back. Not only are you too daft to listen to reason, you likely contracted what she had.”

  Ella wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Yet, even as the angry words spurted from her lips, regret clawed at her. Where else would she go? She’d had just enough funds to take a train from Woodville after her home had burned and Papa died. She’d ridden the train as far north as she could go, then took work here in the lackluster town of Parsonville, situated just north of the ravished town of Greenville. She’d hoped to catch a boat up the river, but as Greenville had been left in ruins by a Yankee gunboat and she had no funds to carry her anywhere else, here is where her foolish hope had abandoned her. She’d scrubbed the kitchen at the Buckhorn Inn for meals and lodging alone.

  Mrs. Hatch’s beady eyes landed on the valise and Ella clutched it tighter. “Stealing from the tart, eh?”

  Ella set her shoulders. “I don’t think she would mind me having this.”

  Her employer opened her thin lips, and Ella could guess the greedy words that would come next. She held out the valise. “But you can take it. I’m certain the disease won’t carry to clothing…right?”

  The older woman stepped back, and fear sprang into her eyes just as Ella expected. She waved her hand. “No, no. You go on and take it. Lord knows you have little enough in this world.”

  Ella smiled at the false kindness and gave a nod before passing the woman and heading for the kitchen. In the storeroom she shoved her only other dress and a few underclothes into the valise on top of whatever else was in there. She would have to look through it all later, lest Mrs. Hatch change her mind and come for it before Ella could make it out of the inn. Not giving the place one final glance, Ella exited the kitchen, passed the defeated soldiers, and stepped out into a warm May afternoon. Now, how to find where she needed to go?

  She looked down the street. Just past the general store stood her best hope—the livery. Lifting her work dress, lest she fray the hem any more, Ella stepped out into the street and walked as briskly as she could without drawing attention. Thankfully, the baby seemed to be content, and if she drew the cloak close, his tiny form was nearly hidden. It was a bit warm for such a wrap during the day, but wearing it seemed preferable to carrying it.

  In the livery she found an elderly man mucking stalls for three scraggly looking horses. Not many decent animals had survived the war and the army’s commandeering. They’d lost all of their good stock back at home. That’s what had set Papa’s drinking aflame, even worse than when he’d first began after Mama died.

  Ella lifted a hand. “Sir? Excuse me, sir?”

  The man turned. “Eh?” He straightened. “Oh, sorry, miss. Didn’t hear you come in.”

  “That’s quite all right. I wondered if I might ask you a question.”

  He leaned against the shovel. “Certainly. Could use a rest for my back anyhow.”

  Ella couldn’t help but smile at the man’s good humor. Solid for a man of his years, Ella guessed he had once been quite a bull of a man. Wispy white hair sprouted from around his large ears, but left the top of his head untouched. He smiled at her, and Ella was surprised to see he still had all of his teeth.

  “I am looking for the Remington house. Might you know where that is?”

  His gaze dropped down to the baby tied to the front of her dress and something lit in his eyes. “Belmont. Ah, yes…um, well, I hate to be the one to tell you, miss, but Mr. and Mrs. Remington both died this past winter. No one is left there to take in the….” He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes. “The, uh, unfortunate girls anymore.”

  She blinked in surprise before she gathered his meaning. He thought her one like Cynthia. She could feel her cheeks redden. “Oh! No, sir. I am not looking for that kind of help.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “My sincerest apologies. I just haven’t seen you before and, well….” He looked down at the baby.

  Ella stood taller. “The child is in need of a wet nurse. And soon. I was told one resided at the Remington place…?”

  The man brightened. “Certainly.” He scratched the back of his balding head. “I could give you a ride. Make up for the embarrassing misunderstanding.”

  Ella hesitated only for an instant. “I would be most grateful, sir. Thank you.”

  A quarter of an hour later, Ella sat on a bench seat of a buckboard next to the old man as they jostled their way out of Parsonville. Ella held the baby as best she could, lest he bounce too hard. Amazing that he could sleep like that. Perhaps he would be an easy babe. Or perhaps he was still too weak after having nearly suffocated.

  Such a sweet thing. His little dark lashes splayed across rounded cheeks. A pang constricted her chest. She would hate to give him up. Oh, it was what he needed, of course, but…. Looking down at that angelic little face clenched her heart. Perhaps there would be work for her at—what had the livery master called it? Belmont?—and she wouldn’t really have to be separated from him just yet.

  She buried the hope down in her heart and tried not to let it sprout too quickly. There were far more people around these days who needed work than places that provided it. But Ella was willing to work for nothing more than a roof and a bit to eat. Perchance that would be enough.

  As the sun began to drift closer to the tops of the trees, they rolled into the crumbling ruins of Greenville. Another town of burned homes and ruined lives. Just like back home. Had the Remington home even survived?

  She turned to look at the man beside her. He had spoken nary a word since they’d left from Parsonville, and Ella had been content to be left to her own thoughts, but now something bothered her. “Sir?”

  He didn’t respond. Ella raised her voice and leaned a bit nearer. “Sir?”

  He startled and turned to look at her. “Oh. Yes?”

  She jutted her chin at the scorched ruins they passed. “Are you certain the home still stands?”

  The man looked back at her. “I reckon so. No Yanks have been burning through here in some time.”

  He turned his focus ahead again, as though he were none too interested in conversations. She likely wouldn’t get anything more. He hadn’t even given her his name. Not that she had told him hers either. Perhaps it was better that way. She merely needed the ride. Nothing more.

  They rode about a quarter hour more out past the southern outskirts of Greenville before the livery master pulled up on the reins and brought his two gaunt mules to a halt. He indicated a stretch of water just up ahead. “Follow the river road there a bit more. You’ll pass by Willoughby by the river, then see another road on your left. Follow that ’un for a bit and you’ll see Belmont. Big brick house. You won’t miss it.”

  Ella shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll not take me on to the house?”

  He refused to look at her. “Bit rough on the wagon, see.”

  Ella looked at the dry road without any patches of mud and wondered what he could possibly mean. He shifted in his seat. “I best be getting on back now….”

  Understanding dawned. Of course. He didn
’t wish for anyone to see him delivering a girl to the Remington house, a place that obviously had a reputation for seeing to fallen women. Ella mustered her best smile. “Thank you, sir, for your great kindness. I would have had a time toting this babe on my own.”

  He returned her smile and then climbed down from the wagon and rounded to the other side to assist her. Valise in hand and the baby secured, Ella lifted a hand to wave goodbye, but the fellow kept his head down and didn’t send a glance back over his shoulder.

  Ella squared her shoulders and marched forward, grateful she didn’t have to make the entire walk. Why, it would probably have been well past nightfall by the time she’d made it on foot.

  She followed the road that snaked along the Mississippi as instructed, and after she rounded the bend she saw a long drive lined with fields. Through a handful of large magnolias stood a massive brick house. Her breath caught. A mansion for certain! Why, the people there would surely have the ability to care for one small child. Relief washed over her, and she clutched the little one close.

  “Here, now, sweet one. See? I promised you would have a good home. And, my, I don’t suppose there is any finer than this one.”

  The baby squirmed and let out a bit of a cry, and Ella paused to rock him a moment. He opened his eyes and watched her as she smiled and cooed at him, and then his lids drifted closed once more. She continued toward the house. He would want to be fed soon. That was the first time he had opened his eyes since right before Cynthia had nursed him. He squirmed once more, and she quickened her pace.

  As Ella neared the house, she noticed four fine horses held by a young man in a dark blue uniform. Without thinking, she ducked behind the large flat leaves of one of the magnolias, dropping her valise to the soft earth with a muffled plop. Her heart thudded. Had he seen her?

  She peeked out, but the Yank kept his focus on the house. Ella shifted to see past him. Belmont stood proud, boasting fine red brick and a sprawling porch not only for the bottom floor but for the top one as well. Ella counted eight windows across the front that looked like they might be taller than she, and no fewer than six chimneys. But she didn’t have much time to admire the babe’s new home, as the three blue bellies standing at the front door drew her attention.

  The one with a sash about his waist and a saber hanging from his side pounded on the door. They waited, and Ella held her position. After a few moments, the man pounded once more. If there was anyone inside, they must have heard it. Her chest constricted. Had the home been abandoned?

  She was about to decide that was, indeed, the case when the large front door swung open. She couldn’t quite see who stood on the other side, since the soldiers blocked her view. The man with the sash, who apparently led this group, spoke loudly enough that Ella had no trouble hearing him.

  “We are here to speak to Mr. Remington about the compliance of these lands with the Freedman’s Bureau.”

  The men shifted enough for Ella to see a dark skinned woman at the door. She stood about middle height, with a trim figure and a straight spine. The woman exited the house and closed the door behind her, regarding the men with concern etched on her features. Ella placed her fingers to her lips. Could she be the wet nurse? Ella eased up to a nearer magnolia, this one just out from the porch. No one seemed to notice.

  “I’s sorry, suh, but the elder Mr. Remington died this past winter. Him and the missus both.”

  “Then who controls these lands?”

  Her gaze darted back to the house. “There ain’t no slaves here, mister.”

  Ella couldn’t see the man well enough to be sure, but she guessed he wasn’t convinced. Many slaves would have been told to lie about such things. Ella wondered about the truth of the words herself.

  “All the same, we will speak to someone in charge here to be certain United States laws are being carried out.”

  The woman began to wring her hands and a sinking feeling gathered in Ella’s stomach. If the owners were dead and no one else had claim to the house, then the Yanks would surely seize it and claim some kind of outstanding taxes or make up a violation to one of their ordinances. She’d heard the like plenty of times before. Her jaw tightened. Then what would happen to the people living there? Would they be dispersed? What would that mean for her babe?

  Her mind froze. The babe. Not hers. No. He wasn’t, couldn’t be, hers. She clutched him tighter all the same. She had made a promise.

  “Mister Remington the elder has gone, but these lands were given to his son.” She bobbed her head, sending tight, dark curls shaking. “He was in the Federal cavalry. Yes, suh. Went all the way to that military school, just like his papa and grandpapa did.”

  The men seemed interested in this. The leader stroked the blond hair on his chin. “West Point, you mean?”

  She bobbed her head again. “Yes, suh. That’s the one.”

  The man glanced at the men around him. “Well, that is good to know. We would like to speak to him.”

  The woman shifted her weight. “Well, he ain’t here…”

  “Then when shall he return?”

  Ella watched the scene before her and a wild, maddening plan began to form. She had to be out of her head even to think such things, but intuition told her that if she did not do something, then all hope for the boy would be lost. She straightened her shoulders and did her best to put on a confident air.

  Still, she hesitated.

  “Well, we don’t rightly know. They sent a fella sayin’ he was missing…” The man stiffened and the woman hurried on. “But….we don’t know anything for sure. He could be back any moment and…”

  Her words trailed off as all of a sudden the child at Ella’s chest let out a shrill wail. Ella startled. Knowing she had but one opportunity, she stepped from behind the tree and did her best to look as though she were just walking up the drive and had not been hiding.

  She caught the look of surprise on all the faces on the porch before looking down at the babe and cooing to him, partly to calm him and partly to simply avoid the stares of those at the house.

  Calm. Be calm. Oh, Lord, help me. I’ve lost my mind.

  Ella lifted her gaze and planted confusion on her face, her eyes sliding over the men and landing on the woman on the porch. She glanced down at the child, who continued to whimper, and let as much pleading as she dared show in her eyes. The other woman’s brow puckered, and her gaze darted between Ella and the child.

  If this doesn’t work…

  She ground the thought beneath sheer determination and put on her best haughty look. “Cindy, what is going on? Do we have guests?”

  The other woman’s mouth worked as Ella ascended the steps and tried to position herself so that only the woman could see her face.

  Please, she mouthed.

  The woman’s surprise disappeared beneath controlled features. She indicated to the three Federal men by the door. “These here soldiers done come to be sure Belmont is doing right with the freeman stuff….” Her voice trailed off.

  Ella gave her best reassuring look before turning to face the men. The baby squirmed and let out a piercing wail again. She looked back at the woman she’d called Cindy after the child’s mother and smiled sweetly. “It seems I took too long in my walk, and he is dreadfully hungry. Perhaps you could feed him…?”

  Something sparked in the woman’s eyes and they flew wide, revealing the whites around her black pupils. “Oh, yes, ma’am. I reckon he sure is! I’s going to take him inside to nurse.”

  Relief washed over Ella so strongly that her knees nearly buckled. She untied the shawl, keeping her back to the soldiers and wrapped the ends around the screaming child. She passed him to the other woman’s waiting arms. “Thank you.”

  The woman seemed to catch the sincerity in Ella’s words and offered a tight smile. “Of course, ma’am. We be in the nursery when you finish talkin’ with these here soldiers.”

  Ella watched the woman disappear inside, trying to ignore the ache that settled on her
as soon as the little bundle slipped from sight. She forced herself to remain composed and turned to the men staring at her, pulling the fine cloak around her to hide the scullery maid’s clothing beneath. Thank goodness she’d worn it.

  “May I help you, gentlemen?”

  “Your maid said that all of the Remingtons are dead?”

  Ella’s heart pounded, but she simply arched a brow. “Did she? My husband’s parents have passed on, but I am certain my husband will return soon.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “He promised me he would return to see our child.”

  The officer glanced at the others at his side and they shifted their weight, clearly uncomfortable. “Do you speak for these holdings in your husband’s absence, then?”

  “I do.”

  “And you understand freedmen’s laws?”

  Ella tilted her head. “If you are referring to the abolition of slavery, I certainly do. We have never owned another person here, sir. To do so is against our faith in the Lord, who loves all men as he created them.” At least that part wasn’t a lie. Papa had been too poor to own a slave, and Ella didn’t think it was right. Besides, the wet nurse had said there were no slaves here, and Cynthia had claimed that the Remingtons were Christian folks. It seemed to be near enough the truth.

  “Very well,” the officer replied after an extended pause that had sent Ella’s stomach to fluttering.

  She almost opened her mouth to wish them good day and hurry inside to check on the baby when his next words stalled her.

  “And I presume you know that they must be paid a wage, not just given the same amenities they have always been afforded. Such things do not make life any different.”

  Ella blinked. “Of course.”

  “So your people are paid, then?”

  Ella fidgeted, searching her mind for any bit of information she had picked up that could help her. She seized on something that might avert this man’s scrutiny. “The house servants are paid from my husband’s earnings, of course. We have plans of letting out the land for planting, and will share the crops with the workers.”