The Last Heiress (33 page)

“How long is your furlough? Are you hungry? When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?”

“The major ordered our company back to the fort by midnight tomorrow—Christmas Day. Those Yanks wouldn't dare attack on Jesus's birthday.”

Again Joshua reminded Nate of a very young man, still filled with optimism, instead of a seasoned veteran who had doubtlessly taken many lives. “It's been a long time since we spent a holiday together.”

“Do you live upstairs?” His gaze traveled up to the ceiling. “ 'Spose you got plenty of vittles to cook since you own a store.”

“Nothing's upstairs but dust and spiderwebs. I rent a room from the Sims family a few blocks away. Come home with me. Ruth always has enough for an extra mouth, especially as this is Christmas Eve. Tomorrow morning I plan to show my face in church even if it causes a minor ruckus in heaven.”

Joshua grinned. “I'll go with you in case Ma is looking down. But tonight I'd better spread my bedroll here.” He gestured toward the whitewashed floor. “My company is uptown at some watering hole. The sergeant won't know where I went if he needs me.”

“I have a better idea.” Nate tore off a sheet of some brown paper and grabbed his charcoal pencil. “What's your sergeant's name?”

“Baker. Gavin Baker.”

Nate drew a crude map from his market to the Simses' house, printed Sergeant Gavin Baker at the top, and let Joshua sign the bottom in his childish scrawl. Once he nailed the notice to his front door, he grabbed a parcel for Ruth and headed toward the door. “No brother of mine sleeps on the floor on Christmas. Let's go home.”

Home…
with the only family Nate had left in the world, other
than Amanda, because that's how he felt about her. Even though he'd had a strange way of showing it, she felt like a cherished member of his family. He hoped this would be the last Christmas they would spend apart.

If Joshua was surprised he lived with people of color, he hid it well. During dinner everyone swapped tales of favorite Christmases gone by—a cherished new toy, a rare gift of oranges in the dead of winter, a boy's first muzzleloader for hunting squirrels and rabbits. Ruth served the smoked ham Nate had given her, along with baked apples, yams, and plum pudding for dessert. After the meal his brother struck up a tune on Odom's fiddle. Joshua had acquired the talent after joining the army. Nate settled back to listen and savor the pleasure of having a brother again.

There were no heartbreaking stories of fallen comrades or grievous battle wounds, no description of loathsome rations or foul water, and blessedly none of the melancholy that defines a soldier's life in wartime. For one magical night he and Joshua were boys again in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains. Their pa was sober; their ma healthy and robust. When their eyelids finally began to droop, Nate insisted that Joshua take his small metal bed while he curled up in a blanket against the wall. Nate watched his brother sleep for hours. His face, peaceful in repose, still looked innocent despite all he'd seen and done. While Joshua snored, Nate tried to fathom a way to keep him safe from the maelstrom surely headed to Wilmington.

Odom had asked Joshua during dinner why he was fighting. His brother had shrugged and replied, “If I'm a Carolinian, it just seemed like something I should do.” His simple response festered in Nate's mind until he finally drifted to sleep.

Yet his slumber was brief in duration due to the Union army proving to be unpredictable once more. Simultaneously, Odom, Nate, and Joshua bolted toward the incessant pounding on the
door. Sergeant Baker, shivering in the damp predawn air, snapped a hasty salute. “Lieutenant Cooper, sir.”

Joshua returned the formality. “What is it, Sergeant? It's Christmas Day.”

“Yes, sir, but somebody forget to tell the Yankees. They opened fire on Fort Fisher in the middle of the night. We are to return to the fort at once. I've already sent the rest of the company on their way.”

Within minutes, Joshua retrieved his bedroll and rucksack, thanked his hosts for supper, and delivered the fiercest hug Nate ever received.

“I must go back. God bless you, brother. Goodbye.” Joshua disappeared into the night before Nate could utter a reply. Yet before he reached the top of the stairs, Nate already knew what course of action he would take.

December 28, 1864

Amanda couldn't wait to return to Wilmington. Even though they were slave owners, at least Jackson and Abigail treated their slaves far better than the elder Henthornes. She had seen Randolph's field hands in threadbare rags, while most of the children had no shoes despite cool winter temperatures. Although sufficiently attired in livery or maids' uniforms, household servants appeared nervous and mistrustful, as though the master or mistress's wrath could be easily provoked.

Even her sister expressed concern about the deplorable condition of the slave quarters—leaky roofs, dirt floors, and missing mortar between the rough-hewn split logs. Isabelle Henthorne dismissed Abigail's concerns with a wave of her hand and a disdainful shrug. “We have no cotton left for them to make new
clothes,” she said. “And our peanut harvest this year was barely enough to provide a new gown for me for the season. Thanks to that infernal blockade, horrible shortages have taken their toll on everyone, my dear.”

Yet you appear very well fed, Mrs. Henthorne
, Amanda thought uncharitably. Always a reason, always an excuse for their lack of compassion in an atmosphere of injustice.

Amanda already had a bellyful when both ham and leg of lamb were served for Christmas dinner, while the slaves ate thin soup and coarse brown bread. When she'd commented during dessert, she received a glare from Jackson and a patronizing, “I wouldn't expect a
foreigner
to understand our ways” from the elder Mrs. Henthorne.

Was this how Wycleft appeared to American visitors? If the description provided by Billy Conroy was accurate, then she knew the answer. Billy had no reason to lie to Nate. She had buried her head in the sand and never questioned the customs of her parents.
Just like Isabelle Henthorne
. Why hadn't she walked the alleys where her father's employees lived? Her mother always ordered the coachman to take certain lanes to and from the mansion. Amanda had no contact with the village children while growing up. Nannies, governesses, and boarding schools provided an insular world of wealth and privilege for the Dunn offspring. No wonder her sister found nothing distasteful in Jackson's world.

After her last visit to Nate's store, Amanda yearned for him to visit Wycleft. Then he could see for himself that Dunn Mills provided decent employment with freedom and opportunities for advancement. Now she no longer thought that a good idea. She'd been sitting on a pile of self-righteousness. Like Nate, maybe she no longer belonged
anywhere
. And what did that bode for the coming New Year?

With Jackson eager to assess the situation at his warehouses
and the wharf, and Abigail needing rest after weeks with a critical mother-in-law, Amanda devised a plan. On her first day back in Wilmington, she headed to Water Street immediately after breakfast. But her hope for a tender reunion with Nate dissolved on his front stoop.

A flurry of workmen carried sacks of grains, sides of smoked meat, and boxes of canned goods to drays parked along the street. Teamsters shouted at passing carriages as they fought to control their skittish horses. Filled with apprehension, Amanda walked into the store as a keg of molasses rolled down the aisle.

“Watch your step, miss!” hollered a burly man.

“Amanda! What timing. I just finished penning you a letter,” said Nate. He held up a sheet of foolscap, the ink still glistening.

She sidestepped the runaway cask and closed the distance between them. All around her the shelves were rapidly being emptied. “I hope you wrote me an invitation to—” Her jest froze in her throat like a winter icicle with the realization Nate wore the uniform of Confederate soldier. Amanda's vision clouded, her knees buckled, and the floor rose up to meet her.

“Steady, dear heart.” In one smooth motion, Nate caught her, lifted her into his arms, and carried her out the back door.

Away from the chaos, the cold breeze restored her senses better than smelling salts. “I'm fine, Nate. Put me down,” she demanded. Once her feet reached solid ground, Amanda straightened her skirt over her ankles. “Tell me you haven't done something desperately reckless!” A piqued tone masked the terror churning in her gut.

“I haven't yet, but I intend to enlist once I reach the fort.” He tugged down the hem of his jacket, the many repairs attesting to hard service by its previous owner. “A militiaman supplied this so I won't be shot as a Yankee spy along the way.”

Amanda pressed a fist to her forehead, where a dull ache throbbed beneath the skin. “Fight for the Confederacy? But why,
Nate? You abhor the institution of slavery and the rich planters who manipulate laws to benefit themselves.”

Guiding her to the stone wall, Nate pulled her down next to him. “Yes, but most Carolinians fight for our state's rights, not to preserve slavery. We want to be able to govern ourselves. As for me, I plan to fight for less philosophic reasons—my brother.” He gazed toward the river, obscured today by a blanket of fog.

The word hung in the air as though she could almost touch it. “Your brother is here in Wilmington?”

He nodded without meeting her eye. “Joshua found me on Christmas Eve. His regiment has been reassigned to Fort Fisher. Some army quartermaster remembered my store and told him where to find me.”

“Unbelievable! I'm sure you were overjoyed to see him.”

“I wish you two could have met. To spend Christmas with the two people I love would have been a dream come true.”

With the two people I love?
Amanda latched on his declaration like a rope thrown to a drowning man. “Nothing would have pleased me more than to be here with you instead of with the Henthornes, surrounded by dying peanut plants.”

“While we slept, Yankees fired on the fort, cutting short our reunion. Joshua's commander called him back and canceled his furlough.” Nate wrapped his hand around hers. “Amanda, I-I can't bear the thought of losing him after finding him again.”

“Joshua is the reason you enlisted?”

“He is the only family I have, other than you. The army brevetted him to a lieutenant. That particular rank leads men into battle instead of giving orders from the rear like generals.” Nate tightened his grip. “I plan to fight at his side and, if it be God's will, keep him safe. I can shoot even straighter than he can.” His lips pulled into a wry grin.

“Please, Nate, don't go. You will both be killed, and it will be
all for naught.” Panic changed the sound of her voice. “I came to say I don't belong in the Henthorne world any more than you do. But I don't want to live under Mama's thumb either. Why don't we return to Manchester only long enough to sell Dunn Mills? As Papa's heir I have every right. We could set my mother up on a monthly income in London and use the rest to travel the continent, or begin anew in the western territories. Your brother could join us and start fresh.” As her enthusiasm escalated, his expression changed to one of sorrow.

Nate lifted her chin with one finger. “Nothing would please me more than a future with you, my love, but Joshua won't desert the army, and so my fate is sealed as well. Life becomes complicated when family is involved. You said so yourself. I was wrong that afternoon in your sister's garden. I judged you for things beyond your control. Everyone is trapped by the circumstances of their birth. I'm a North Carolinian, even though we were too poor for a tombstone on my mother's grave. I cannot abandon either Joshua or Wilmington in its final hour.” He offered her a smile filled with sorrow. “Forgive me, but I must finish packing.”

Helplessly, she burst into tears as she followed him back inside. “What will happen to your store?”

As Nate packed ledgers and documents into a leather pouch, workmen carried out everything that wasn't nailed to the floor or walls.

“I sent word to Mr. Baxter about my intention to enlist. I offered him my merchandise at no charge as long as he donated whatever he didn't want to charity. No sense letting good food molder.” Nate peered around the room dispassionately as though it was no longer part of his life.