Northern Star (11 page)

Molly smiled. “That would be grand. I wouldn’t want to shoot anyone, but I bet I could scare those vultures away with these.” Molly held one in the air and pretended to shoot. “Come on, nephews, I’ll shoot your ears off if you come around here bothering me again.”

Both women laughed. Molly put the guns away, touching her bandaged cheek gingerly as she returned to her rocking.

“Does it hurt much, Molly?” Perry asked.

“Now, don’t you worry about this little cut. I’ve been cut and beat up many times over the years. Kind of a hazard of the business. I ain’t complainin’ none. I had
some bad times, but looking back, it was an interestin’ life. Never got the clap, thank God.” Molly rocked as she talked. “Went to a doctor once to be checked. He said I never got it because I must’ve had some natural immunity. Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ve had a great many men. Maybe I had a few of them natural immunities some time or another.”

Perry laughed into her mug of coffee. Molly may have been a whore, but Perry couldn’t help but like her. Perry wondered how the polite ladies who came to tea would have reacted to Molly’s topic of conversation.

“Guess we’d better get some sleep. I could stay up all night. I used to all the time. But you look tired. Help me lift one of my mattresses off the bed and we’ll move it close to the fire for you.”

After making Perry a bed they put all of Molly’s bloody clothes and Perry’s dirty ones in a pot of water to soak. The aging hands gently rubbed the scarf, as though if this one item of clothing were ruined, it would be a great loss to her.

“Thanks for inviting me to stay.” Perry leaned over and kissed the old woman’s unharmed cheek.

A tear twisted its way down her wrinkled face. “Was my pleasure,” Molly mumbled, and pushed the tear away with the back of her hand.

Perry fought the urge to hold the old woman close and protect her from any more pain in her life. But Perry had her doubts that she could get herself out of the mess she was in, much less protect another. However, she couldn’t deny the bond that had solidified between them with a single tear.

The sound of gunfire rattling the kitchen windows woke Perry with a violent start. She jumped up and ran across the cold floor to stand beside Molly at the window. They could see little, except the garden, but they could hear yelling and the frightening noises of people running frantically. Though the garden stood peaceful in the first light of day, the sounds of chaos raged just beyond the wall, threatening like Gabriel’s horn to crumble all barriers.

“Molly, are they fighting in the streets?” Perry shouted over the noise. Panic gripped her. After everything else, was she to be caught in the middle of this war?

Molly’s face was gray with fright, but she chewed at her lip with a curiosity no fear could contain. “I’ll go find out. Stay here, child,” Molly ordered as she wrapped a colorful shawl around her bulk and hurried out the door.

Perry dressed quickly and began braiding her long black hair. If there was fighting, it would be better to be ready to move as soon as Molly returned. Perry’s mind was racing, trying to think of somewhere to run. She knew nothing of this town or where safety might lie. If war was in the streets, could she make it the three blocks to Hunter, or would her odds be better if she stayed with Molly? If the South took Philadelphia, Hunter would need her, but if the North won, she might need him. A thousand questions
ran through her mind. How could the army be so close? How could they be strong enough to take a city of this size? She needed time to think, but the noise outside made rational thought impossible.

Perry was stuffing her hair into her hat when the door burst open. Molly stumbled in, out of breath and dragging her shawl behind her. Her white gown was covered with splattered mud. Holding a hand over her chest and taking a few gulps of air, she let out a howl that would have put a lumberjack to shame. Then she plopped atop Perry’s mattress and shouted, “The war’s over, honey. Lee surrendered at Appomattox yesterday.”

The war was over! She could go home. She hugged Molly and they danced around the kitchen, both laughing and crying at the same time. Her brother would be coming home! Somehow they would rebuild Ravenwood.

As she danced, Perry realized there was no need for her to hide behind this horrid disguise. She threw her hat across the room and shouted for joy. Both women danced and hugged until they fell back exhausted on the bed. They knew there had been no winner in this war within their nation. The joy of this day lay in the ending of the misery.

Molly made a delicious breakfast. She fried a mound of eggs in fresh butter, exclaiming repeatedly that there would no longer be shortages. She cut thick slices of salted pork and chopped it into the eggs, making a feast.

As they ate, Perry found herself doing all the talking. She told Molly all about the past week and her travels. She described Hunter in detail and in so doing felt a sudden longing to see him. When she finally slowed down, Molly stood up abruptly.

She folded her arms over her ample breasts and smiled down at Perry. “Well, now that you don’t have to wear them clothes, why don’t we make you somethin’ to wear when this Hunter comes for you?” She grabbed Perry’s hand and pulled her toward the main house. “I was rummaging through some trunks up in Henry’s attic the other
day and saw dresses that might give us somethin’ to start with. They must have belonged to his wife. She died several years ago, so they ain’t doing nothing but rotting up there.”

“Are you sure you can spare the clothes, Molly?” Perry asked, wishing she could offer to buy them.

“Lord, child, I have no need for a dress with a waist as big around as my leg. Henry always said I was twice the woman his wife was. After seeing her clothes I’d have to agree.” Molly laughed as she unlocked the back door to the main house.

Molly moved inside. “Folks ‘round here used to call him Haunted Henry, him livin’ in this big house all alone. He wouldn’t even have servants after his wife died. In his youth he ran a slave ship. Folks say he was haunted by all those slaves that never survived the crossing with him. They say the evil he and his partner did drove his partner so crazy, he disappeared.

“I, myself, never called him Haunted Henry, though.” Molly laughed. “I used to call him Horny Henry, but toward the end that, I’m afraid, was only a haunting memory too.” A chuckle babbled from Molly.

Perry laughed as she stepped inside the main house. To her surprise the rooms were fully furnished. Cobwebs hung everywhere, draping the interior in gray. Many of the larger pieces of furniture were covered with white sheets, giving each room a ghostly appearance. The thick drapes and fine, imported rugs were rotting and layered with dust. This had once been a lovely home, before years of neglect had slowly smothered each room, robbing the wood of any glow and stealing strength from the colors.

Dusting webs away, Molly moved to the stairs. “I let my Herschel in here every now and then. He keeps the mice away.” A dreamy look of longing crept into her face as she added, “You’ll think I’m a fool, but I come in here sometimes and pretend I’m a grand lady waiting for a dinner guest to come.”

Perry stated, matter-of-factly, “You
are
a grand lady, Molly.”

Molly smiled down at her from the stairs. “Thank you, child. I’ll treasure them words.” Then she was gone in a whirl of dust.

Perry hurried to keep up with her as they climbed to the attic. For an old woman, Molly had a light step, and her arm was strong as she pulled the attic door open. As Perry stepped through the opening she was shocked to see trunks everywhere. Most of them looked as if they had sat unopened for years. The large attic was covered with a lifetime of clutter.

Moving to a trunk, she jerked up the lid. Within minutes both women were surrounded with dresses and laughter. Old Henry’s wife must have loved spending money on clothes, Perry thought, for she had more than ten women needed.

They spent the morning trying on outfits and sewing. They found a few dresses in good shape. The styles were classic, so they needed little alteration.

By mid-afternoon, three clean dresses and a light coat hung in the kitchen in front of Perry. Freshly washed underclothes lay on the table with a pair of black boots that fit Perry as if they had been made for her. Even before the war her father never allowed more than one or two dresses each season. These were more clothes than Perry could ever remember seeing at one time.

Molly giggled like an old maid when the orchestra leader announces ladies’ choice. “Let’s try them out, honey. I wish we could’ve found some bright colors, but these will do. Put this green one on and go visit your handsome captain at the hospital.” She lifted the dark forest-green dress and lay it across the bed. The rich folds were made to fit snugly at the waist and blouse wide at each elbow, reminding Perry of a dress a lady might have worn in the days of knights and dragons. They’d polished the row of gold buttons decorating the front and each sleeve.

An hour later Perry stared at herself in a small mirror that hung on the wall. The dark green velvet flattered her lovely ivory skin and brought out the brown in her eyes. Molly had arranged her tresses in braids encircling her head, a green velvet ribbon woven into her dark halo of hair. Perry could hardly believe her reflection. For the past few years she’d been too worried about money and crops to think of frills.

Molly beamed with pride. “I knew you was a lady the minute I got close to you. You look wonderful. As grand as any I’ve ever seen. I’ll walk with you as far as the hospital doors. Wouldn’t be proper for a lady like yourself to walk alone.”

Perry nodded, laughing inwardly at Molly’s sudden concern about respectability. She’d spent the past week in the unchaperoned company of men, but now, in a dress, she was a lady.

Before leaving, Perry slipped her knife into her dress pocket. She knew she would carry it until she was safe at home once more. Somehow, like Hunter’s necklace, the knife had become a part of her.

The two women made an interesting sight as they strolled the twilight streets. Molly walked tall, proud to be with Perry, but at the hospital steps she refused to go any farther. She wanted to wait outside and walk Perry back home, but Perry convinced her that Abram would see her safely through the streets. She didn’t know how long she would be visiting Hunter, and the streets were too wild tonight for Molly to wait by the hospital door.

Molly disappeared into the evening shadows as Perry walked alone from the front door to the main desk. Tonight the desk was cluttered with bottles and empty glasses from the morning’s celebration. The same young orderly who’d been on duty last night stood politely as she neared. She noted he’d been drinking his share, and more. His smile was lopsided, and he kept trying to straighten it with a hand that refused to cooperate.

He half bowed as he spoke. “May I help you, m’lady?”

Perry refused to offer even a small smile to the lad. “I wish to see Captain Hunter Kirkland.”

“Yes, miss.” The orderly hurried to usher her down the hall. “You’ll have to excuse the mess. We’ve been celebrating the war’s end, you know.”

Perry said nothing, hoping to discourage conversation. She didn’t want to talk to this half-drunk young man. He might be polite now, but she remembered his cruel words to Molly all too clearly. As she turned the corner she saw Abram leaving a room. He held his hat in one hand and several envelopes in the other.

“Thank you, orderly, I’ll be fine from here.” Perry dismissed him before moving closer to Abram. The huge black man stood still, studying Perry as she approached.

“Good evening, Abram,” she whispered, watching his face for the reaction to her new clothes.

“Good evening, Miss Perry.” Abram spoke as he kept an eye on the orderly, slowly moving out of earshot. The huge black man calmly slid the envelopes he carried into his breast pocket and patted them softly as if ensuring their safety.

With the orderly gone, a smile widened to cover Abram’s face. “You’re a beauty, Miss Perry, a real beauty,” he said as he watched her turn before him. There was almost a fatherly pride in his statement. “I never would have dreamed you’d clean up so nice.”

“I’ve met the nicest woman, Abram. She gave me all this,” Perry answered, thinking he was referring to the clothes, “just so I could come to the hospital tonight.”

“I wanted to bring you this tonight,” Abram whispered as he pulled a pouch from his pants pocket. “There’s enough money to get you by a few days until we can decide what to do.”

“Oh, no! I can’t accept money from you.”

“Consider it a loan from Hunter. Just till you’re back home.” Abram wouldn’t take no for an answer. He knew
she would need some money, and he wasn’t about to see her beg on the streets until he could keep his promise to her brother and get her safely home. “If Hunter were able, he’d say the same thing.”

Concern filled her, washing her cheeks pale against her dark eyes. “How is Hunter?”

“He’s been awake most of the day, talking with some top brass. I just left him sleeping,” Abram answered.

A sigh of disappointment escaped from Perry. “May I look in on him for a moment?”

“Of course, Miss Perry. As soon as you slip this in your pocket.” He held the money out to her once more and smiled as she did as he’d instructed. “Hunter’s been given a drug to help him sleep, but you’re welcome to visit.” Abram opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “I’ll see that you’re not disturbed. Take as long as you like.” He slowly closed the door, leaving her and Hunter alone.

Timidly Perry moved to Hunter’s bed. A single candle threw its yellow glow around the room. She watched Hunter’s chest rise and fall in sleep. His hair half covered his sleeping eyes. She reached up and softly brushed it away so she could study his face one last time.

How could any man be so handsome? she thought. She may have saved his life, yet he added something new to hers. She’d never met a man who so fascinated her, whose slightest touch could make her blood run hot. She remembered the rainy night they’d spent in the plantation and how his words had made love to her. He’d given her one thing she’d never had: someone to dream about. Her body ached even now from the need to touch him.