Plantation Nation (9781621352877) (25 page)

Outside McClellan's tent, Emma set a fast
pace, anxious to put a world of distance between her and James. But
he was at her heels. Once they were out of McClellan's earshot,
James walked in front of her and stopped her.

"I can't think of the last time someone more
pig-headed than me called me foolish," he said.

"Yeah, you're right. You can't think." She
pushed him aside, then whipped back around. "What was that all
about back there? Are you trying to get us both killed?"

"You got no business goin' back to that
camp."

"It's my choice, and I don't need your help.
I've managed on my own, and I can do it again."

James snickered. "Not this time. If you do
go, there ain't no way I can let you go alone, not now, not knowin'
you're a woman. Why, it's senseless enough that you're still in
this army."

"I don't need looked after like a child.
You're not my father, and," the words proved difficult for her to
say, "you're not my husband. You have no say over me."

James reddened. "I can't turn a blind eye,
and I can't help feelin' responsible for you now. Dangit, Emma, I
care for you."

"That's absurd! Why, the only reason you're
being so difficult is because you hate to see me have any favor
with McClellan or Reed. You want it all for yourself."

"Have you done lost your mind? That's about
the craziest thing I ever heard."

"And how dare you threaten to expose me like
that."

James fought back a half smile. "Well, it got
your attention."

"You've got no right to act so careless with
my life, just because you're willing to get yourself killed now
that Lily's dead."

As the words sunk in, so did the expression
on James' face.

Emma held a hand over her mouth. She had not
meant to let her frustration get the best of her, or to reveal that
she had read his letter.

"This ain't got a thing to do with Lily, and
now ain't the time for bringin' that up." He set his jaw. "I'm
gonna get a few things, you should too. Then we need to head out
and get this thing done."

Emma wanted to stop him as he walked off
toward his tent, but tears burned her eyes, and her whispered
apology was lost in the breeze. As flustered as she felt, Emma knew
she didn't have time to waste.

She headed to the hospital tent and found
Eleanor.

"I need your help," Emma said.

Taking in the distressed condition of Emma's
face, Eleanor dropped what she was doing.

"What is it, dear?"

"I'm going back to the Rebel camp, and I need
a disguise."

Eleanor shook her head, baffled by what she
heard. "Well, all right. I'm sure we can come up with something
over supper
—
"

"No, it can't wait. I have to leave
immediately, but I have an idea."

****

Eleanor eyed Emma and James doubtfully and
asked, "Are you sure this will work?"

"No," Emma said as she glanced at James. "But
we don't have much choice."

"It'll work." James held his blue uniform
where the pellets had broken through and ripped it more. Then he
tore the epaulets from his shoulders that were a sign of rank and
honor. He went and stood in front of mirror and removed the
bandages from his wound.

"I wish you wouldn't do this," Emma said.

She didn't have a chance to properly
apologize for what she'd said about Lily, but she also didn't have
the luxury to stay mad at him.

"Gotta be done."

"At least let me," Emma said.

"There ain't no sense in tryin' to be soft
about it."

James took hold of the knot in the stitches
and tugged with all his might. He gritted his teeth and muffled a
groan as the stitches ripped from his shoulder. His wound bled
anew. Then, with effort, he put on his bloodied shirt from the
night before.

Emma and Eleanor subdued their horror.

Fully composed, James turned to Emma as he
fitted his cap upon his head. "All right, Captain, let's go."

****

Emma and James hitched a ride on a
south-bound navy vessel and traveled in silence. Emma knew
harboring anger wouldn't be good for the mission, but she worked to
clear her mind of everything except their assignment. One thing she
couldn't get out of her head, though, was James mentioning that he
cared for her. She assumed he must have meant that he cared for her
like a Commander cares for his men, or the way a brother usually
cares for his sister. Still, Emma wanted to plumb that word for all
it was worth. Even though James had manipulated his way into the
mission, Emma wondered how much his feelings for her had motivated
him.

They decided the best way to approach
Confederate territory was from the opposite side of the
Chickahominy River. They found a canoe, which could've belonged to
either side or even a local, and they paddled their way across. At
the other side of the river, they roped the canoe to a bush, but
put little faith in using it for their escape.

Emma guided James through a patch of woods,
certain a band of Confederates would be hidden there, hoping to
ambush a pocket of the Union army. Her hunch proved right. Muskets
reared and yelling ensued. Men dropped from trees and apprehended
Emma and James. She knew the only thing that had saved them from
gunfire was the Confederate uniform she wore.

"Soldier!" Emma shouted as she yanked her arm
from a Rebel who grabbed her. "Get a hold of yourself! I'm Captain
Hall. I need to get this prisoner to headquarters at once. I must
see General Johnston." She took a fistful of James' jacket. "This
man has vital information pertaining to the Federals."

Emma tolerated a few questions before
pointing out that valuable time was being lost. Naturally, she
didn't want to get too detailed about who she was or how she had
captured her prisoner.

With a two-man escort, Emma as Captain Hall
and the captive were led to a tent within the epicenter of the
Rebel encampment. Emma, having never been to this section of the
camp, swept every face with her eyes, looking for signs of
suspicion or disbelief. She even kept an eye out for Big Sam. The
daunting slave did not materialize, but she stopped dead in her
tracks. She spotted Orson, the wandering peddler, conversing with
an officer. It appeared as if the officer had taken Orson up on his
offer of whiskey. Though Emma could not catch a drift of their
conversation, an eerie anxiety washed over her, especially when she
didn't notice Will anywhere.

Inside the tent, the two were told to wait
while word was delivered to Johnston.

"I don't think we've convinced them," Emma
said once she and James were alone.

James didn't respond. Emma realized he was
fixated on two tables where maps were spread out. Current
strategies and recent battles were outlined. Emma looked them over,
wishing she could memorize every line.

"Which ones do we take?"

"I don't know, but we gotta be sure," James
said.

"Ahem!"

Startled, Emma and James stood straight and
found a Confederate officer had entered the tent.

"Are you General Johnston?"

"No, the general is detained at the moment. I
am Major Jonathan Carter. How may I help you, Captain…?"

"Captain Hall." Emma did her best to sound
ripe with confidence and in control. "Sir, I captured this
scoundrel near the Chickahominy River. He's under McClellan's
charge, sir, and I believe if you
talk
to him, you might be
able to get some useful information out of him."

Major Carter made no movement. His face
lacked any sign of interest in her suggestion.

"What makes you think we can provoke an
honest answer out of him?"

Emma felt her body heat rise. "Why, surely
you or someone in this camp is skilled in the artful persuasion of…
communication with the enemy?"

Major Carter cocked his head and squinted.
"Where are you stationed, Sergeant Hall?"

"That's Captain Hall. My duties are top
secret, Major. I perform reconnaissance and report directly to our
government's highest officials."

"Really?" He drew out the word. "Then where,
may I ask, is your horse? The corporal told me you arrived here on
foot."

James darted his eyes between the two and
pretended to feign interest.

"Unfortunately, in my determination to
capture this rat, the beast was lost, an irrelevant circumstance at
the moment. Major," she did her best to sound authoritative and
irritated, "can you have this man properly interrogated or not? I
can simply take him on to Richmond if you're unable to handle the
task here. Although I will be sure to mention this incident, and
your lack of cooperation for the Confederacy, to President Davis
himself."

Although he still wrestled with a degree of
uncertainty, Major Carter straightened."That won't be necessary."
He drew his pistol and sneered. "I will see to him personally."

Chills slid down Emma's spine as James was
led away. She prayed for him silently as her heart raced. She
returned to the maps and had to act fast. If their plan went well,
James wouldn't spend but a few minutes letting Major Carter
question him before he struck him and broke free. Luckily, the
major had not bothered to search James, as James had strapped two
revolvers to his legs. Emma only had ten minutes at most to steal a
map and meet James at the northwest edge of the camp. She fretted
over which map to take
—
and how
she would store it inconspicuously on her person.

"Major Carter?"

Emma whipped around at the sound of the new
voice. Grateful that she had not been caught rolling up a map,
Emma's relief dissipated. The young officer, a sergeant, who had
entered the tent, was no stranger. Alarm gripped her. She had to
abort the mission and get out of there. Immediately.

"I'm Captain Hall." Emma tried to keep her
head lowered and her eyes cast downward, but she knew it was not
befitting behavior of an officer. "The Major had a matter to
attend."

"You can help me then."

Desperation surged through Emma.

"I would, young man, but I'm needed over at
the hospital right away. Please excuse me."

He stepped in front of her. "The hospital has
been under quarantine for two weeks now."

"Yes, I realize that." She attempted to look
at him without making eye contact.

But bewilderment and recognition dawned on
his face.

"Emma!" His eyes scanned her in disbelief.
"What are you doing here, dressed like that, in a uniform?"

There was no need for Emma to deny it. Her
mind reeled. She considered going for her weapon but knew she
wouldn't have the malicious intent it would take to use it.

"I joined the war effort," she said.

"You're a girl. How could you become a
soldier? You have no right to be in that uniform." He took hold of
her sleeve and started to tug.

"Calm down, Quinn!"

She pulled away from him, causing her gun to
sling free from its holster and thump to the ground.

"Grandpap's Colt!" Quinn said. He and Emma
dove for it simultaneously, but Quinn came up with it.

He snatched a fistful of Emma's Rebel coat as
she got to her feet and pulled her to his face.

"Well, just look at you now," he said. "Pa
isn't around to save you anymore. Neither is Grandpap. How dare you
shame our family like this? A girl wearing a Confederate
uniform!"

Emma's anger flared. "When I said I joined
the war, I didn't mean the South. I'm a Union soldier with the Army
of the Potomac. I'd rather be dead than part of anything
you
supported."

As the realization dawned on him that his
sister had infiltrated the camp to steal secrets on the Union's
behalf, Quinn's eyes went wild. Emma had seen it frequently, along
with the rage that followed. Although Quinn's performance with
guns, hunting, and swimming had always fallen short, he was now a
trained soldier. He'd earned his rank, had clout in the army, and
now he had their grandfather's prized gun.

"You want to be dead?" Quinn chuckled. "I can
arrange that!" He held the gun to her temple. "Just think one small
click and it's all over. Why, I'll be a hero, nabbing a Union
spy!"

Emma bit Quinn's fisted hand that held her.
He yelled and dropped the gun. Emma tried to yank from his grip,
but Quinn slugged her in the jaw. She reeled and thumped to the
ground on her back. Quinn quickly stepped over top of her.

"I been waiting my whole life for a chance
like this," he said. "I never knew what Pa and Gradpap saw in you.
They fawned over you like you were better 'n the rest of us. All
them years, always had to have everyone's attention. Made me
sick."

Catching her breath, Emma came up on her
elbows and locked eyes with her brother.

"You never worked hard at anything in your
life," Emma said. "You've never cared about anyone but yourself.
And even worse, you still can't throw a punch."

Emma jabbed him in the crotch. Quinn fell to
his knees in agony. Emma scurried to her feet and ran for the
tent's opening. Quinn caught her by the ankle and made her slam to
the ground. He climbed onto her back. Emma butted the back of her
head into his face. A crack sounded and Emma knew she had broken
his nose. Quinn cried out.

It wasn't the first time she had been part of
breaking his nose. When they were younger, the Cartwright children
spent the summer months in a swimming hole. They tied a rope on an
overhanging branch of an oak tree. Emma always managed to swing the
highest and then back flip once she let go of the rope. Quinn could
neither repeat nor top such a feat. Being the weakest swimmer of
the bunch, he rarely tried. But one day, he climbed higher in the
tree, thinking all he needed was more height. Emma laughed and told
him he would end up breaking the limb or some part of his body. The
others laughed. Mad and determined, Quinn climbed higher still and
ignored another warning from Emma. He lunged from the branch,
awkward and clumsy. His flip failed and in his confusion, he forgot
to let go of the rope. Quinn slammed into the tree's trunk, nose
first.