Cheryl Reavis (19 page)

“Yes,” Kate said quickly, because she thought she understood the difficulty the man must be having, being so close to the cognac and its temptation. “I thank you, sir. I won’t forget your kindness.”

“You are welcome, Miss Woodard,” he said. “Robert, I will see you later. I have some things I’d like to discuss. I wish you Godspeed in your search.”

Robert picked up the sketches as soon as the chaplain and Castine had gone.

“I’d like to carry the photograph with me,” he said. “I’ll leave a sketch with Perkins and the rest I’ll distribute to the stationmasters along the line. Kate?” he said, apparently because he realized she wasn’t listening.

Kate took one more look at Harrison’s face, then handed him the photograph.

“Tell me a passage from the Bible that will help me,” she said.

“‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved,’” he said without hesitation.

And if I’m not righteous?
What then?
she nearly said. She bowed her head.

“Don’t waste time worrying, Kate. Pray.”

“I’ll...try to do that,” she said, looking up at him.

“I’ll send word when I find him,” he said.

“You will find him, won’t you?” she asked, her mouth trembling despite all she could do.

He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Kate—”

They both looked around because Perkins was outside, and Kate stepped away. Perkins opened the door and stuck his head in.

“Train’ll be here in about thirty minutes,” he said. He tossed Robert a small leather wallet. “Military authorization so you can ride any train, anywhere you need to. There are some signed chits in there, too. You can use them to pay for whatever the boy needs—Colonel Woodard’s orders. Miss Kate, Mrs. Colonel Woodard and Mrs. Justice are looking for you.”

Kate had no doubt that they were, and likely at his behest. She looked at Robert. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He nodded.

She took a few steps toward the door, then looked back at him. “God bless you, Robert,” she said.

“I’m going to give you some advice, Mr. Markham,” she heard Perkins say as she was walking away. She stopped on the pathway to listen.

“Given our violent history, I’m not sure that would be wise,” Robert said.

“Maybe not, but you’re going to hear it, anyway. Colonel Woodard left his most precious possessions in my care—his family—and that includes Miss Kate. There’s not much that goes on in this town that I haven’t heard about, and that includes
you
.

“It would be very good sense on your part if you settled things with one lady before you go starting something up with another one—especially if the second lady happens to be my commanding officer’s sister. Are you understanding me?”

“I am, Sergeant Major,” Robert said. “I’ve already had this conversation with the colonel.”

“Good. We ought not have a problem then. You just do what you said. You find that boy for Miss Kate.”

Chapter Thirteen

W
hen,
Kate kept thinking after Robert had gone.
When,
not
if.

Robert meant to find Harrison; she was certain of that. But whether or not he could do it was another matter entirely. She had been spared having to tell Maria and Mrs. Justice what had happened. Sergeant Major Perkins had taken care of that detail, and she was grateful that she would not have to try to manufacture an acceptable degree of distress at having “a young friend of the family” go missing.

Kate sat at the dining room table now, pushing the cake Maria had served around with her fork rather than actually eating it—while Maria, Mrs. Justice, Mrs. Russell
and
Mrs. Kinnard discussed something pertaining to some aspect of an upcoming Lenten service. It was all she could do to stay seated.

“Well, we’ll just have to go right now and see how much space there is,” Mrs. Kinnard said.

“This doesn’t have to be done until the last Lenten Sunday. We have
weeks
yet,” Mrs. Russell said.

“There is no point in leaving everything to the last minute,” Mrs. Kinnard insisted, and Kate suddenly realized that they were all getting up from the table. Mrs. Kinnard had spoken—but about what precisely, Kate had no idea.

“It will be dark soon,” Maria said.

“I have my carriage. It will only take a few minutes to get there—Miss Woodard, I don’t believe we will require
your
presence.”

Good,
Kate nearly said and her thoughts went immediately to Robert.

She said you were grooming me to be your wife.

Good.

Oh, Robert. What did you mean?

“Kate?” Maria said.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said we’ll be right back. Will you help Warrie with the boys if she needs it?”

“Of course,” Kate said, but both of them knew that Warrie wouldn’t ask for help, and she most particularly wouldn’t ask for Kate’s. Kate wondered if she somehow knew about the “grooming.”

She was still sitting at the table when one of the soldiers came in to clear away the plates and put the dining room back in order.

“Sorry, miss,” he said, turning to go.

“No, it’s all right,” Kate said. She went out into the hallway, glancing toward the campaign table as she always did before she went upstairs.

Nothing.

She climbed the stairs quickly, but she didn’t go to her room. Instead she went out onto the second-story veranda and stood by the banister, breathing in the cool, fresh air.

Spring was coming. She could feel it, and any other time she would be heartened by it. Jonquils and pink thrift were already in full bloom in nearly every yard, and—according to Sergeant Major Perkins—the trees would be budding soon. On the surface, everything was as it should be. Life went on around her, just as it had after Grey was killed.

She looked up at the late afternoon sky. Four days. Robert had been gone four days.

“Harrison, where are you?” she whispered.

Please, please, Lord. Let Robert find him and let me help him. Please. Whatever he’s running from—it doesn’t matter. If he needs respite, then let him find it here.

She stood for a long time—until she could see Mrs. Kinnard’s carriage returning. She went back inside, and she came downstairs despite the smothering presence of the others. She had to be where she could hear the delivery of the mail pouch if one came.

“Did you find enough space for...whatever it was?” Kate asked no one in particular as she reached the foyer.

“Yes,” Mrs. Justice and Mrs. Russell said.

“No,” Mrs. Kinnard said. “Two benches will have to be moved.”

“There will be extra people there, Acacia. They will need a place to sit,” Mrs. Russell said. “Church attendance is always higher during Lent.”

“Only because they don’t bother to show up the rest of the year. When one’s presence at church is so lackadaisical, then one must expect consequences.”

“I don’t know why I don’t have a headache,” Maria whispered at Kate’s elbow.

“You can have mine,” Kate said, and Maria had to stifle a laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Maria whispered. “I don’t think I could manage them without you.”

“You’d still have Sergeant Major Perkins.”

“Ladies, I think we’ve spent enough time on this,” Mrs. Justice said, and the remark apparently had a direct effect on Mrs. Kinnard’s eyebrows.

“I would like for us to have a prayer circle,” Mrs. Justice said quietly. “In Bud’s sitting room. Now.” She looked at Perkins, who had come in from the back of the house. “Are the chairs ready, Sergeant Major?”

“They are, ma’am,” he said, and she smiled.

“Then we shall go,” she said.

For once Mrs. Kinnard didn’t have a more urgent and appropriate alternative. She followed Mrs. Justice up the stairs, giving Kate and the rest of the women a look over her shoulder that suggested she was on the verge of finding all of them recalcitrant for just standing there.

Kate followed along quickly. It was what she needed at the moment, one of Mrs. Justice’s quiet and comforting prayers.

Seven chairs had been brought into the sitting room.

“I was expecting that Reverend Lewis would join us,” Mrs. Justice said, apparently to explain the seating. “Do please sit down, my dears. Do you remember the last time all of us were gathered like this—here—in Bud’s house?”

“I remember,” Mrs. Russell said, and it was clear that she didn’t appreciate having been reminded.

“When was it?” Kate asked. No one seemed to want to answer.

“It was the night we all sat up waiting for General Stoneman and his horse soldiers to raid the town,” Maria said finally.

“I’m reminding you of this for a reason,” Mrs. Justice said. “We had that dreadful prison here, and we were all of us certain that the town would be burned to the ground like Atlanta and Columbia. But we prayed for God’s mercy and for strength and courage no matter what happened. I would like us to do that again tonight, this time for Robbie and for the young man he has gone to find—” She stopped because someone was coming up the back stairs.

Kate looked at the doorway, expecting to see Reverend Lewis, but it was the army chaplain, Bible in hand. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know his name, and clearly, everyone was as surprised to see him as she was—except Mrs. Justice.

“Chaplain Gilford, welcome,” Mrs. Justice said. “We are very pleased that you are willing to come out tonight—”

“I hardly think—” Mrs. Kinnard began.

“—
in
Reverend Lewis’s stead,” Mrs. Justice continued firmly. “It’s his gout,” she added to the group. “Very painful, I understand. Now. Do let me introduce you to the ladies you have not met.”

To their credit Mrs. Kinnard and Mrs. Russell participated in the social amenities because—as Mrs. Justice had pointed out on a previous occasion—their mothers’ teaching dictated it, especially in someone else’s home. But it was clear to Kate that neither of them wanted to—and for very different reasons, she thought. For Mrs. Russell, the chaplain would be a vivid reminder of how her son had died. For Mrs. Kinnard, he would represent a situation where she had unwillingly experienced a certain loss of control.

But Chaplain Gilford handled both women with courtesy and skillful authority, perhaps the kind he hadn’t exhibited in a long time. He clearly wasn’t drinking, and he seemed confident and...peaceful. He acknowledged Maria and Kate and then took his seat.

Mrs. Justice kept looking at the doorway, likely for a reason.

Chaplain Gilford looked at each of them and then recited from memory. “‘For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.’ And so we are here this evening—gathered in
His
name, seeking His help and His comfort. For the boy Robert Markham has gone to find, for Robert and for all of us here who want only to help them both, but have not yet found a way...” He stopped.

Warrie Hansen stood in the doorway.

“Warrie, come in,” Maria said. “There’s a chair for you.”

Warrie stood awkwardly for a moment, then came into the room. “The boys is all asleep,” she said. “I reckoned I’d come up here to the prayer circle.” She sat down in the empty chair, and Kate wondered if she knew that the prayers tonight would be for Robert.

The chaplain waited until she was situated, then looked at Mrs. Kinnard before he began again. “We are grateful, Lord, that we have this opportunity to offer up our prayers to You. We have come with our troubled hearts and our worry, believing that we may lay our burdens before You. Your word tells us to ask and it shall be given us. Seek, and we will find. Knock and it will be opened unto us. I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears—”

“Excuse me, Chaplain,” Perkins said from the doorway. “Miss Kate, you need to come downstairs.”

Kate got up immediately and followed him down the wide hallway.

“What is it?” she asked, but he didn’t answer her until they had reached the foyer. The mail pouch had come; a stack of letters lay on the campaign table. He picked up one of them.

“Telegram,” he said. “For you. It’s from Robert Markham.”

Kate took it from him, her fingers trembling.

“You’ve already read it?” she asked as she opened the envelope.

“I have. I thought it couldn’t wait.”

She struggled to get the telegram free and then began to read:

H found. Come as soon as possible. Perkins has details.

Robert

“What’s happened? What details?” Kate cried.

“The boy is sick, Miss Kate, and it’s bad. He’s in some little whistle-stop in Virginia. Markham says he needs some medical supplies. I’m working on getting him what he wants. You need to go pack a trunk. The night train will be here before long, and I’ve got some more things to figure out.”

“What kind of things?”

“Go pack, Miss Kate. Let me do what I need to do.”

She stood for a moment, then nodded and hurried up the stairs. She could hear the chaplain praying when she reached the second floor. She went into her room and opened her smallest trunk, her mind in complete turmoil. She had to force herself to
think,
to concentrate on what she might need to take with her.

The boy is sick...

She suddenly realized that she had a good idea of what might be needed—thanks to her constant clashes with Mrs. Kinnard. She wouldn’t fill the trunk with her belongings. She would take only the barest minimum for herself and reserve the rest of the space for things that might be necessary to care for someone who was ill.

She hurried downstairs to the kitchen and went into the pantry. The flannel Mrs. Kinnard had asked for—demanded—the night Robert had come home she knew was on the top shelf, and she climbed up on a box to get it. They could be used for heated brick or as washcloths.

She found a bar of soap, some candles and an unopened pack of matches to light them with, and some lumps of sugar wrapped in brown paper. As an afterthought she took down a bag of coffee and some apples, dumping all of it into an empty basket. She took the basket with her through the kitchen to the airing room to get several sheets and two blankets and two pillowcases from the linen cupboard. She put everything that was in the basket into one of them. A stack of clean aprons had been left on one of the ironing tables, and she took one of those, as well. When she came back through the house, Mrs. Kinnard was leaving by the front door.

Kate didn’t see Perkins anywhere, and she didn’t waste time looking for him. She went upstairs again and changed into her traveling dress with the open side pocket that allowed her to reach the underskirt, which had a pocket where she could hide most of the money she had set aside for traveling. The coins she left in her reticule. She packed the cotton calico dress, along with some clean undergarments, into the trunk. Thanks to recent events she had no qualms about having only two dresses, and with some rearranging, she managed to get everything into the trunk and the lid closed and locked.

When she came out into the hallway, she could no longer hear the chaplain. No doubt Perkins had advised everyone about Robert’s telegram by now and had likely given every person in the house some kind of assignment.

Robert.

He had said he would find Harrison. When she had first met him, she had wondered if he were not the Southern version of a knight in shining armor. She didn’t have to wonder any longer.

She hurried toward the stairs, not knowing how long it would be before the train came, and then she suddenly stopped.

“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. She had asked for the opportunity to help her son, and she realized suddenly that this was it. The realization brought with it a kind of calmness she hadn’t anticipated.

“Help me to do this the best I can,” she said. She took a deep breath, and continued down the stairs.

This time Perkins was in the foyer.

“You know you can’t go on the train alone—” he began.

“I’m going!” Kate said, alarmed. He was
not
going to stop her. She didn’t care how it looked, and she most certainly didn’t care how her doing so would affect the smooth running of the occupation.

Perkins held up his hand. “Yes,” he said. “
With
a chaperone.”

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Kate said.

“Well, you won’t get out of this town without one,” he assured her. “Mrs. Colonel Woodard can’t do it. Mrs. Justice needs to stay here so she won’t wear herself out trying to help Mrs. Hansen with those boys.”

“What are you telling me?” Kate asked.

“I’m telling you I got you a chaperone.”

“Who?” Kate asked.

He didn’t answer her, and because he didn’t, Kate knew immediately that there was only one possibility.

“Oh, no,” Kate said.

“She’s the only one who will do, Miss Kate,” Perkins said. “And she is happy to have the job.”

“Why?”

“Having authority over the Colonel’s sister
and
being able to order people around in another state? Nothing could suit that woman better. Besides that, if anybody else goes, all in this world Mrs. Kinnard would have to do is raise an eyebrow, and she’d cast all kinds of suspicion that things weren’t proper and that the Colonel had no regard for the women in his family. And you know—”