Hearts Under Siege (Civil War Collection) (12 page)

Only she didn’t have her knapsack. Should she leave it behind or risk going back for it? She really needed her shirt to pass for a boy again. Only feet away, she could make it.

Sprinting, she reached the cave. A few people trickled back. Most still helped their neighbors dig out the fallen dirt from the damaged cave. Bending over, she grabbed her knapsack stored next to her rolledup quilt. Her trousers showed at the ankles.

“Alexandra?”

Alexandra gasped and stood up.

“What are you doing?”

Aunt Maggie stood over her, her face screwed into a disapproving expression.

“Nothing. I was just looking for my comb. I thought Lucy might like to have it.”

“Why are you wearing your trousers?”

“I um.” How could she explain this? Aunt Maggie would never let her go. Then, again, how could she stop her? “I felt more comfortable…with living in such close quarters with men.”

Aunt Maggie studied her, as if considering the plausibility. Alexandra knew her aunt would have believed anyone else who told her that, but Alexandra’s reputation for propriety suffered.

“I see,” Aunt Maggie said. Her features relaxed into an expression of belief.

Alexandra sighed.

“Very well, you may take Lucy the comb.” She lifted an eyebrow, gazing at Alexandra’s hand, which held the entire knapsack.

Alexandra didn’t give her time to think anymore about the situation. She ran outside.

“Miss Maggie,” the Reverend said, “do you have a minute to help me with something?”

Alexandra retraced her earlier steps up the hill and then with a backward glance, she went down the other side. She stopped behind a large rock and replaced her dress with the shirt she had been so determined to retrieve. She stuffed the dress into her bag and jammed her boy’s hat onto her head.

As she made her way down the side of the hill, she tried to formulate a plan. Someone in the city would know where to find General Pemberton. She would deliver the message and return to the caves. She didn’t know what else to do besides return to the caves. She would give anything to be able to go home, if not for the danger. If she arrived too late with the message, the entire trip would be for naught, but not entirely, she reminded herself. She would do it all over again to spend time with Thomas. Even now she longed to see him, to talk to him. Where was he? Still in the trenches near the front? Did she dare look for him? He had probably forgotten about her by now. Wrapping her fingers around the tube at her neck, she determined not to think about him.

****

Thomas could not get Alexandra out of his mind. That only added to the misery of being caught up in this siege. They were digging—all of them. And removing dirt, bucket by bucket, as they burrowed through the ground creating their own trench in defense. Though he knew General Pemberton was staying in a house in the city, Thomas had been unable to break away and get to Alexandra. She would be furious, he knew. And for good reason: he broke a promise.

Whatever the message said, its timeliness diminished daily, so he wasn’t sure how much longer it could matter. The city was surrounded. No supplies could be gotten through the circle of Yankees surrounding them. Though the city could not hold out much longer, they’d never surrender. Help would surely arrive soon. He glanced over the ditch but saw only armed Yankee soldiers in the distance.

At any rate, he had to escape and head south. Major Davis owed him one silver locket.

Chapter Eleven

“Wait, I have to see him.”

The soldier, upwards of sixty years, gripped Alexandra’s arm with the strength of a steel trap.

“General Pemberton doesn’t have time for the likes of you, boy.”

“What else does he have to do? It’s not like he’s going anywhere,” Alexandra said, in a boyish voice.

“You’ve got quite a tongue on you,” the older man said, and eyed her speculatively. “As a matter of fact, I do believe you’re still small enough to turn over my knee.”

Alexandra gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Yes, I do believe that’s what you need.”

Corporal McGuire sat down on the steps of the Greek-style house and attempted to tug her down across his lap.

“Unhand me, you oaf.”

“Settle down and take your spanking like a man.”

“Don’t you touch me.”

“What is going on here?”

Alexandra and Corporal McGuire froze and, in unison, looked up at the tall man standing over them.

“Corporal McGuire, an explanation, please.”

“I um...I was just…The boy was trying to see you, and I knew you didn’t have the time, sir.”

“I have nothing but time.” General Pemberton took a step down. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Sammy,” Alexandra answered.

“Sammy. I see. And you wanted to see me?”

“If you’re General Pemberton.”

“I am.”

“Then, yes, sir. I have a message for you.”

“A message. Well, why didn’t you say so?” Glancing sternly at his subordinate, he held out his arm and motioned for Alexandra to follow him up the wide stairs to the front door. “Come inside and have a glass of water.”

Watching the old soldier from the corner of her eye, she accepted Pemberton’s offer and followed him inside. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Alexandra suffered a sense of nostalgia as she followed the officer up the stairs and down a corridor to his sitting room, passing several rooms along the way. The furnishings of the large house remained in pristine condition, untouched by the war, it seemed. A grandfather clock stood in the foyer next to the stairs.

They entered the sitting room, finely furnished with a woven silk rug and cherry bookcases overflowing with books. An open sketchpad drew her eyes to the table. She crossed the room and studied the caricature of a white-bearded man of formidable stature. Touching the corner of the picture, she studied the features, the exaggerated size of the head, the too-big eyes and nose, the twisting mouth. Tingles of familiarity ran the length of her spine.

“Who is this?” she asked.

He closed the notebook, sighing an apology. “That is the general of the Southern army.”

“Lee.” She reached for the notebook. “May I?”

He nodded.

“It’s an interesting likeness. You’ve met him,” she said.

“As a matter of fact, I have. You’re very observant.”

She looked at him and offered a smile. “I’ve been known to dabble a bit myself.” She turned the page in search of other drawings and tried not to salivate at the clean, white pages beckoning to be used.

She glanced up.

Pemberton arched a brow with renewed interest. “Is that so? You sketch, then?”

“I prefer painting, but I’m well-trained in sketching, and I’m fairly competent in it.”

“What a coincidence,” he said. “Would you like some tea?”

“I’d love some.” How long had it been since she had tea? She couldn’t remember.

Pemberton went to the door and spoke to a young man in uniform who hovered there, seeming to wait for his orders. He nodded and left to do the general’s bidding, Alexandra supposed.

“You said you had a message for me?”

Suddenly remembering her mission, Alexandra pulled the tube from around her neck. “My grandfather sent it from New Orleans.”

“You came all the way from New Orleans just to give me this? It must be important,” Pemberton said, taking it from her.

As she watched, he removed the paper and unrolled it. Glancing at her, he asked, “Do you know what it says?”

“Yes, I took the liberty of decoding it while I was hiding in the caves.”

“Is that so? I should give you a promotion,” he said, studying the letter. “My own men struggle with such tasks.”

“It was easy. I’d be happy to read it to you.”

“I would appreciate that very much,” he said.

The young servant brought the teacart and poured steaming beige liquid into porcelain cups. He spooned a drop of honey into each one and gestured to a silver tray displaying treasured croissants.

“I hope you’re not offended,” the general said.

She bit into her croissant. “Offended, why would I be?” she said, closing her eyes with pleasure. After the rubbery ground pea bread she’d been served in the caves, this melted in her mouth.

“There isn’t enough of this food to go around to all the men, so we keep it here, for such occasions as this.”

“Oh,” Alexandra said, setting down her pastry.

“I really shouldn’t have said anything, but I knew you would think of it later. Please,” he said gesturing to her plate, “don’t let it go to waste.”

“I’m honored that you would share it with me,” she said, deciding that he wasn’t entirely selfish. Anyway, why would she cut off her nose to spite her face? Her stomach growled in response.

She resumed eating, albeit with less gusto, and he smiled. When they finished their refreshment, they bent their heads together over the table as Alexandra explained the decoding process.

Such a polite gentleman
.

They completed the decoding process, and he stood back and stared at nothing in particular, a thoughtful glow in his eyes.

“Do you believe this note to be legitimate?” he asked.

“Of course. I have no reason to doubt my grandfather.”

He brought his gaze to hers. “No, actually the source isn’t the issue.” He scratched his beard. “It may be too late.”

“I’m sorry. I should have found you sooner. Only Captain Munroe asked me to wait for him, so I did.”

“Who is Captain Munroe?”

“Captain Thomas Munroe. He brought me here from New Orleans and asked me to wait until he located you.”

“I see. Did he know what the message said?”

“No. He knew I had it, but I only decoded it this morning, and I haven’t seen him for days.”

“Unfortunately, war prevents the very chivalry it purports to protect.” He paused and turned to stare out the window for a moment then returned his gaze to hers.

“I’d like to offer you a proposition
,
Samm
y
. I don’t want to risk you in battle. No, you’re far too talented. I know you want to help, though.” He lit a cigar as Alexandra watched him warily.

What had she gotten herself into? She didn’t want to fight. She just wanted to go home.

“I bought that sketchpad for my niece a couple of months ago. It may be some time yet before I see her again. I think you may be able to put it to better use. I’ll give it to you, along with those pencils there, if you’ll agree to do some sketches for me.”

Alexandra nodded, happy about the chance to sketch again.

“But now, that means you are not to fight. I want you to stay on the outskirts of any fighting. Your job is to sketch, not only the battles, but the life in between.”

“Agreed,” Alexandra said.

Pemberton smiled and nodded once.

“Good. If I can be of any further assistance to you
,
Samm
y
, you be sure to call on me again,” he said, as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“Thank you, sir, for your hospitality. I haven’t had such a pleasant afternoon in quite a while,” Alexandra replied, as she gathered up her new sketchpad and pencils with a sense of excitement. She itched to begin drawing.

She soon found herself standing outside General Pemberton’s house, looking left and right. Where should she go next? A young boy, no older than sixteen, hurried past her.

“Excuse me,” she said, running after him. “Where are you headed?”

“To the trenches. Aren’t you supposed to be there, drawing your pictures?” he asked, nodding toward her notebook.

“Why yes, yes I am. I had business in town and got turned around, is all.”

“Well, come on, then. I’ll show the way back.”

Alexandra tipped her head in acceptance and followed her new friend to the trenches. Minutes later, she realized General John Pemberton had treated her like
a
lad
y
. He served her tea and kissed her hand. Never once had he believed she was a boy. Her face flushed as she realized he gave her this assignment to protect her—and to keep her out of the caves.

Several hours later, Alexandra sat perched beneath a shelter consisting of an earthen hollow supported by wooden timbers, protected from the worst direct sunlight. She balanced the sketchpad on her lap and swept a pencil across a sheet of paper, capturing the men digging the trenches and fashioning gun embrasures.

She smiled. The trenches provided better safety from the shelling than wandering around the city. The shelling, however, was so close at hand that surely her eardrums would burst. Holding her hands over her ears provided scant relief, and she gave it up shortly. Every man carried a gun and a spade. Hungry soldiers, crawling with vermin, lay side by side, the sun beating down on them.

Alexandra closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer
.
Please, God, don’t let Thomas be among them.

She jumped up and questioned a couple of passing soldiers, but neither knew of Thomas’s whereabouts—not a big surprise since nine miles of entrenchments buffered the city, and troops marched along the waterfront. Perhaps the general sent Thomas out scouting again.

The pastry she had eaten with General Pemberton sat in her belly like a lead weight of guilt. The nerves prickled on the back of her neck. She looked out at the men behind the parapet. Though a handful of them had paused in their digging to heat water over a fire, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No eyes followed her, but she tried to shake off the feeling that someone watched her, unseen. She shuddered and looked down at her lap, resuming her drawing.

****

Thomas scratched at the crawling sensation beneath his shirt and stared at the magnificent reds and golds of the setting sun as they settled over the river. The shelling paused, and a breeze dusted his face. Some of the men sang Dixie.

But Thomas could only think of one thing: Alexandra.

He’d gotten them into the city easily enough; now he must get out. He could probably just walk out of there. Who’d have the time or energy to notice, much less try to stop him? Soldiers bustled about their own business.

Thomas wasn’t, however, willing to risk being seen as a deserter. There must be a legitimate way out of here—without just walking out. Right, he scoffed at himself. No one had given him permission to visit Alexandra, much less to retrieve her as he’d promised, and take her to see Pemberton.

Hot and smelling like manure, he plunged a shovel into the ground, digging a ditch as his thoughts whirled.

“Ah!” He slapped his thigh, cursing the thing that tickled him.

So much for the image of a knight in shining armor. His thoughts wandered back. He hadn’t seen Alexandra again after he dropped her off at the tent for breakfast. The lieutenant spirited her away to the caves before Thomas had gotten himself untangled from the commander. He thought of her lips…oh, to kiss them. He sighed. No, he corrected himself, he didn’t want her to leave in the first place, but longed to kiss her whenever he wanted and protect her from the horrors of this war.

Please let us both survive it. It might carry on another ten years, knowing Southern stubbornness to fight ’til the end. The Vicksburg siege illustrates this well, with little food, or chance of winning this battle. Yet they don’t budge.

He gripped the handle of the shovel. He’d hold Alexandra and never let go.

The opportunity of escape presented itself two hours later. He stood at a well and gulped down a cup of water. From behind an oak, voices floated to his ears. He leaned to the side to better see two soldiers in conversation.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the older officer of the two, whom Thomas recognized as Major Griffin, said, “I’m just not comfortable sending Matthew out there. He’s too young and impulsive.”

“But there isn’t anyone else we can spare,” the second, younger officer replied.

“That’s too bad, sir. I still think one of the cavalrymen would be the best bet.”

“They’re all busy defending the east trenches,” he said, shaking his head. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t use them for this. They’re too tired after baking in the sun for days on end.”

Major Griffin shrugged. “I’ll give you until tonight to come up with someone better. Otherwise I want Matthew ready to go at dusk.”

Thomas waited until the younger officer walked away, and Major Griffin went to the well.

“Pardon me, sir,” Thomas said to Major Griffin. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

Major Griffin turned and studied Thomas, his lips pursed. “I know you. You’re Captain Thomas Munroe of the cavalry. You’re the one who disappeared on assignment.”

“I suppose you could say that, sir. Actually, things became complicated, and I was detained.”

“I see. What can I do for you?” he asked as he filled his cup.

“Am I to understand you need a messenger?”

The older man nodded.

“I heard you mention that you would prefer one of the cavalry. I’d like to volunteer for the duty.”

Major Griffin rubbed his beard. “Tell me, Captain Munroe, how do I know you would follow through on this assignment?”

“I do my duty to the best of my ability, sir.”

“Unfortunately your reputation for unreliability precedes you,” Major Griffin said, with a smile tugging at the corner of his eyes.

Thomas swept his hand before him. “Surely a man such as yourself doesn’t put much stock in rumors, sir.”

Major Griffin laughed. “I’m afraid there’s more to it than rumors. I’ve seen your paperwork.”

Thomas winced.