The Last Heiress (43 page)

“That should have been done long ago.” He scrubbed his face with his hands, overwhelmed by fatigue, hunger, and worry. He had to bite his lip and hold his breath to keep from crying in front of his new domestic employees.

“Well, it's done now.” She walked into the pantry as Amos and Thomas left to do their tasks. Jackson was left alone in the kitchen, savoring for the first time the true meaning of home, family, and loyalty.

But his solitude was short lived. He heard the soft patter of feet on the steps, and then his wife stepped into the kitchen.

“My word, Jackson! It
is
you at long last,” Abigail said breathlessly.

“I-I was told you were sleeping,” he said softly, taking a step toward her.

“I was, dear heart, but I thought I heard your voice coming through the vents in the floor and had to check.” Abigail shifted the tiny bundle in her arms. “I told myself it was just my imagination, but here you are.” Her voice turned raspy.

“I wanted to come to you right away, my love, but Salome told me to wait until my appearance was more presentable.” He grimaced as he slicked a hand through his dirty hair.

His wife stared at him for a long moment, her eyes glistening. “Your appearance, untidy as it may be, erases every worry from my mind, every burden on my heart.” Her sudden smile shone like the sun. “Don't just stand there, husband. Come kiss me and then say hello to your son. I named him Jackson, but Mandy and I have been calling him Jacky.”

No matter how he bit his lip or held his breath, tears streamed down Jackson's face as he viewed his son for the first time. As unworthy a man as any could be, God had answered each one of his prayers.

Early in the morning of February 21, 1865, a bedraggled Nathaniel Cooper knocked on the door of the Simses' residence on Castle Street. His brow dripped sweat, his muscles ached, and hunger made his gut clench. Because he no longer rented a room there, he waited on the stoop for someone to rouse from their bed.

A wan-looking Odom opened the door as Ruth hovered behind his shoulder. “Nate! Why didn't you just come in? We
don't stand on ceremony here, son.” Odom almost dragged him across the threshold.

Nate could have hugged his former landlord instead of shaking his hand. “I didn't know if you would entertain a guest wearing this color uniform.”

“Shucks. We know your heart. That's what's important.”

Ruth didn't bother asking whether he was hungry. Instead, she swiftly mixed batter for flapjacks while her skillet heated up. “Ain't your brother with you, Nathaniel?” she asked softly.

“No, ma'am. I've been sent into Wilmington with a detail to alert the citizens. Joshua and what's left of our regiment are trying to move artillery so it doesn't fall into Union hands.” He gratefully accepted a cup of coffee, sweet and thick with cream.

“What's the news?” Odom practically forced him down onto a chair with a gentle hand.

“None of it is good for the South. Fort Anderson fell to the Yankees. We've been routed from the Sugar Loaf as well. Admiral Porter's gunboats have moved up the river within range of Wilmington. When they retreated from Fort Anderson, they burned the bridges over Town Creek and the Brunswick River. Those bridges and our cavalry will slow the Yankees down some, but we can't stop them.” He gazed from one of his friends to the other.

Young Rufus crept from the staircase, wide-eyed and frightened without knowing why. “Hullo, Mr. Nate,” he said.

Odom folded his hands on the table. “Will there be a battle on the city streets? Have you come to warn us?”

Nate smiled at the boy before answering. “Probably not, but you should pack everything you value and leave at once. Braxton Bragg has ordered Wilmington evacuated.”

“What does ‘vacuated' mean?” asked Rufus, his eyes soulful.

“It means ‘leave the city.' For now staying would be unwise, but you'll be able to come back someday.”

“Come along, young man,” said Ruth, setting a plate of food in front of Nate. “Let's go upstairs and pack our clothes.” With a firm hand she guided the boy from the room.

“There won't be fighting here.” Nate continued once he and Odom were alone. “At least, not much. But we have no choice but to surrender the city. There are too many Yankees with too much artillery.”

“Why should we leave, Nathaniel? The Union army should have no truck with us.”

“Our commanding officer ordered the cotton and tobacco warehouses burned, along with the foundries and any ships tied in the harbor. Bragg doesn't want them falling into enemy hands.”

“All of Mr. Henthorne's warehouses?” asked Odom.

“Yes, and everyone else's too. If his ships are in port they will be destroyed.”

“All that waste.” Odom shook his head sadly.

“I'm surprised you would take pity on a slaver.” Nate began eating ravenously.

“I harbor no hatred and wish no ill on any man.”

“I would warn Henthorne, but I don't know where he is. There's nothing he can do anyway.” Nate dropped his chin to his chest. “The storehouses and mercantiles are to be burned as well.”

“Not
your
store?” Odom slapped a palm on the table.

“I'm afraid so, but it's time for me to change careers anyway.” Nate gobbled up the last bite of his food. “Let's pack your tools into the wagon and hitch the horses. You need to leave as soon as you can.”

Odom stood. “We'll go live with Ruth's sister until this blows over. You're welcome to join us, son.”

“Thank you, my friend, but I must remain to make sure people understand what's coming.” Nate offered his hand again, but Odom wrapped his arms around him.

“Make sure you're gone before the Yankees arrive. Keep yourself alive for when Miss Amanda comes back.”

Nate couldn't speak. His throat burned with emotion. These three kind people had been like family to him since he arrived on the Carolina coast. “I aim to do my best.”

Once Odem and his family were packed up and gone, Nate allowed himself a long howl of frustration. Then he returned to the business at hand—pounding on doors and preparing citizens for the inevitable.

By the time he worked his way down to Water Street, further endeavor had become unnecessary. Clouds of black, acrid smoke poured from the rooftops of the warehouses on Walnut. The streets were filled with wagons, horses, and people carrying belongings strapped to their backs. Pandemonium reigned on the waterfront. Yet despite the panic and smoke-filled air, Nate fought his way to his beloved market. He arrived just as the roof—
his roof
—fell with a thunderous clash, sending sparks and flames twenty feet into the air.

“Great Scott, Cooper! What are you doing on the waterfront?”

Nate slowly turned to see Jackson, dapper in civilian clothing, astride his gelding. “It should be obvious, Henthorne. I am bearing witness to the destruction of my business.”

“I am aware that your shop is on fire.” Jackson struggled to control his horse. The smoke filling the beast's nostrils turned him skittish. “So are my cotton and tobacco warehouses. We'll suffer financially to be sure, but we must move swiftly to protect those who matter most.” The horse reared, almost unseating the rider.

It took Nate a moment to pull his gaze from the inferno. “What are you talking about?”

“There is no telling how far this fire will spread. If it reaches Third Street, our womenfolk and my new son will be in danger.”

Nate took several steps back from the intense heat. “Then
stop jaw-boning with me and move Miss Abigail and your son to safety.” The knowledge that Henthorne now had an heir sent a jealous rage through his blood. Would he ever know the happiness of hearth and home with the woman he loved? “Congratulations on your new son.” He forced himself to speak the words.

“Much obliged, but I didn't come here for that. I promised my sister-in-law I would check to see if by some miracle you had come back to the harbor. And here you are. Let's go, Cooper. Climb up behind me.” Jackson removed his foot from the stirrup and offered a hand.

Nate grabbed the bridle of the prancing horse. “What are you talking about? Amanda went back to England—”

“You have much to learn about stubborn women if you think that. She saw her maid off in Washington and then returned to Wilmington. She helped deliver our baby.”

With his head swimming with confusion, Nate doubled over in a coughing jag.
Amanda is here in this melee with the Yankees breathing down our necks?
When he was finally able to speak again, Nate looked at Jackson, all pride and anger gone. “She's truly here?”

“I have no reason to lie to you. Apparently, she feels the same about you that you do for her.” Henthorne extended his hand a second time. “Please, let's get away from the waterfront. I would welcome your help in moving the ladies to safety.”

Nate jammed his boot into the stirrup and swung up smoothly. The horse reared again, annoyed by the additional weight. As Jackson tightened his grip on the reins, Nate hung on for dear life. Once the horse's hooves met the cobblestones, they took off through smoky lanes and alleys, away from the spreading inferno. In the courtyard behind the Henthorne mansion, Nate slid off the horse.

Jackson dismounted and threw the reins to Thomas. “Give him a good rub, and when he cools down, give him water and a bucket of oats, and then harness him to the coach.”

Nate followed Henthorne in through the kitchen. Unbelievably, inconceivably, Amanda was packing food into a hamper at the table. Abigail sat on a bench, discretely nursing an infant under a coverlet.

“Amanda,” he croaked.

“Nate!” she cried, dropping a jar with a clatter.

Abigail rose to her feet with the baby in the crook of her elbow. “Oh, I'm glad you found him, Jackson! Will you help me finish upstairs while these two get reacquainted?”

“Very well, but you both need to be brief.”

Nate shook off his astonishment as his mission came roaring back to him. “Braxton Bragg has surrendered the city. We must leave at once.”

“We'll be down in fifteen minutes. Everything else is ready to go.” Jackson set his arm around his wife and guided her toward the steps.

Suddenly Nate was alone with his beloved. Facing the Union infantry swarming the fort had been less intimidating. “No one should impede our flight until tomorrow…” he stammered.

“'Tis a blessing, then.” Amanda took hold of the hamper handles.

“I assume Henthorne wishes to take you and Miss Abigail to Oakdale.”

“Not anymore. He sent Salome and Amos ahead with the Henthorne heirlooms and planned for us to follow in the coach. Although he's certain they got through, a neighbor reported that Union troops have closed the road.”

Nate nodded. “Will he head down the peninsula? My plot of land is there. I started a cabin, but I haven't progressed very far.”

She smiled as though pleased. “Jackson intends to find the
Lady Adelaine
if he can reach her. His ship is anchored in a hidden inlet downriver.”

Nate nodded a second time as a plan knit together in his mind.
“I know of an old farm trace we can take. I'm not sure where his ship is, but there's a good chance I can get us close to it without being detected by Yankee soldiers.”

Silence spun out as they both digested what they learned. Then Nate lifted his gaze and prayed for her to do the same.

First their eyes met and then their hearts. They ran into each other's arms, hugging and kissing and hugging some more. Each whispered sweet endearments they wouldn't want anyone else to overhear. Amanda chastised him for joining a dangerous war, while he scolded her for not leaving during the darkest days of America's illustrious history. All the while they continued to hug and kiss, making up for lost time, until someone cleared their throat behind them.

Dressed in traveling cloaks, the Henthornes stood in the doorway. “Are you two ready to go?” asked Abigail with mischief in her voice.