Spring Will Come (15 page)

             
Moses stifled a groan as his mind raced to figure a way out of his newest dilemma.  He could not think of a worse person to show up in his camp.  Ike Adams had been the overseer on Cromwell Plantation until Carrie had thrown him off for trying to rape Rose.  Adams had always carried a hatred for Moses.  It was a hatred that encompassed everyone around him.  It was his betrayal that had sent Captain Jones and his men to Carrie’s plantation.  Moses had been forced to knock him out, dispose of his clothes, and tie him before going to Carrie’s aid.  He regretted not killing the man when he had his chance. He knew nothing would stop Adams from killing him now if he found him there.  Instinctively, Moses ducked farther back in the shadows as he struggled to find a solution and prayed Adams would get back on his horse and ride off. 

             
“You boys got some spare coffee?”  Adams asked.  “You’re the last unit I was sent to give the message to.  I sure could use a cup of something hot.”

             
“Give him a cup, boys,” Palmer growled.  Then he looked around.  “Where did Samuel go?  I told him to get my food.  What’s that darkie doing?  Playing around in the woods?”

             
“You got you a nigger out there, Palmer?”

             
“Yeah.  He was looking for his master,” Palmer said with a nasty laugh.  “I figured I would give him a new one.  He’s been right handy to have around.”

             
“Better keep an eye out for him.  Them slaves been getting right uppity since this war started.  The grapevine works real well around here.  They know a lot of their kind are taking off and ending up in what the Yankees are calling contraband camps.  Those Yankees are shielding them from their rightful owners and are even giving them education and paying them some for the work they do.  The news is getting around.  It hasn’t done much to help the attitudes, if you know what I mean,” Adams said with a sneer.

             
“Samuel is all right.  He’s big and strong - one of the biggest blacks I’ve ever seen.  He sure made my life easier this week.  I didn’t have to do much digging,” he said boastfully.  “Yep, he came in real handy.”  Suddenly he looked around.  “Where is he, anyway?  I told him to come right back.”

             
“You can’t never trust them,” Adams growled as he took a sip of his coffee.  “There’s a nigger I’m looking for right now.  I reckon I’ll stumble on to him one of these days.  Real big fellow.  Slave by the name of Moses.  He’s done turned himself into a Union spy.”

             
Angry mutterings erupted around the fire pit.

             
“How do you know?” one man asked, leaning forward to catch the answer.

             
Moses watched as Palmer stared into the woods, shook his head in disgust, and then turned back to hear Adams’ answer.  Moses smiled at the idea of Adams’ providing a cover for him.  His smile dimmed quickly, though, as he realized the cover wouldn’t last for long. 

             
“I saw him with a unit of Union soldiers foraging our plantations after the Battle of Williamsburg.  He was leading them to food.  They were stripping the countryside as they went.”

             
“If you find him, you let us know,” a voice rang out.  “We’ll help you hang him up.”

             
“Oh, I’ll catch him eventually.  I seem to have a nose for that one.  For him
and
his wife,” Adams said with a mean laugh.  “I know right where his wife is.  It won’t be long before I head north to finish what I started.  There are still plenty of ways to cross Yankee lines.  It ain’t so hard.”

             
Moses clinched his fists at the thought of Adams getting near Rose again. 

             
“Yep.  If that boy knew how close I came to having his wife, he wouldn’t be down here spying for them Yankees.  He would be getting his wife as far away as possible!”

             
“What are you talking about Adams?”  Palmer snapped.  “I know you’re dying for us to ask, so go ahead and tell your story.  Then we have work to do.”

             
Adams smirked.  “You got plenty of time to pull your food together.  You know as well as me you won’t be sleeping much tonight,” he said sharply.  “Anyway, it’s a great story.  I was way up in the peninsula when I found a man’s body floating in the Potomac.  He’d been dead a right long time, but I found some papers on his body.  Papers for a couple of slaves named Rose and Moses.  I knew right away they were the ones who’d run off from the plantation I worked.”

             
Moses leaned forward as Adams talked.  How in the world had he found Mike O’Leary’s body?  Sorrow filled him as he remembered the cheerful Irishman who had been their conductor on the first stage of their escape through the Underground Railroad.  He had been killed by two men hunting who had then dumped his body in the river to make sure no one discovered what they had done.  

             
“Anyway, I was pretty sure those two had taken off for Philadelphia.  I headed that direction as soon as I could.  I only had to hang out there a week to find that wife of his.  Caught her when she stopped to buy sweet potatoes from a street vendor I’d bribed to lure her over.”

             
Anger roared through Moses, pounding in his ears and making his eyes pulse, as he listened to Adams talk about his wife.  Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth, he listened as hard as he could.  Was Rose back in the South?  Had she been hauled back to slavery?  He had to know. 

             
“Weren’t no big deal to catch her,” Adams sneered.  “For a slave woman, she’s a right pretty thing.  I didn’t see no reason not to have a little fun with her before I took her back for the reward money.”

             
Moses leaned against a tree and gripped the bark till blood ran from his hands.  It was all he could do to keep from bolting into the clearing and killing Adams.

             
Adams’ voice continued from the clearing.  “One of those Yankee nigger lovers messed up my plans.”

             
Moses held his breath and leaned forward farther.

             
“Big redheaded fellow heard her yell for help and knocked me out cold.  When I came to, they were both gone.”

             
Moses shook his head.  Who had saved Rose? 

             
“Did you go back after her?” a voice called.  “I hear those women make mighty fine lovers.”

             
Adams shook his head.  “I had some other slaves to carry back home.  I figure I’ll stay gone a while and let her think she is safe.  When she least expects it, I’ll pop back into her life,” he said with a mean laugh.  “When I set out to get a nigger, I don’t give up so easy.”

             
Once more the roaring in Moses head made it almost impossible for him to see or hear.  Fury became a living thing, threatening to destroy all reason. 
God help me
... Moses finally managed to groan quietly.   Slowly reason returned.  Rushing into the clearing would accomplish nothing other than assuring his death.  There was any number of men out there who would gladly shoot him once they discovered he was the spy Adams had told them about. 
Think.
  He had to think!

             
Palmer’s voice rose into the night.  “Where is Samuel?  Mike and Chad, go find him.  Adams is right.  They aren’t to be trusted.  Find him and bring him back.  Maybe he needs some reminding of what his place is.”

             
Moses had heard all he needed to.  It would do no good to wait for Adams to leave.  He turned and melted back into the shadows. 

CHAPTER SIX

              Matthew Justin stepped off the plank leading down onto the dock at the end of Washington Street and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  He was glad to be home.  The streets of Philadelphia seemed a continent away from the battlefields he had recently called home.  He moved aside as a steady flow of stretchers carrying wounded soldiers streamed past him.  He could only imagine the relief of the young men who were just arriving in Philadelphia after two weeks in the field hospitals of Virginia.  Their moans and cries had filled the boat as they plowed up the coastline.  Crowds of people were waiting on the dock to welcome them home and to care for them.  Philadelphia had responded rapidly to the medical needs.  Hospitals, capable of caring for over ten thousand men, were already established in the city. 

             
Matthew watched for a few minutes and then broke away from the crowd to walk rapidly up the street.  His lanky form was beginning to fill out again after six months of confinement in Richmond’s Libby Prison.  His beard remained, but he had cut his hair close to his head again.  His work as a war correspondent for the Philadelphia Tribune demanded he maintain a respectable look.  When he was in the city, anyway.  There was not a single man on the battlefield that cared a whit how he looked.  He was just another man doing a job. 

             
“Hey buddy!  Watch where you’re going!”

             
Matthew stepped aside as a wagon groaning under its burden of munitions rolled by on its way to the docks.  Shaking his head, he laughed at himself.  He’d better pay closer attention.  He could allow his thoughts to wander when he returned to his office.  He gripped his briefcase a little tighter and continued to hurry up the street.  He had a lot of work to do before he could join Aunt Abby and Rose for dinner tonight.

             
He smiled as he thought of Aunt Abby.  She was not related to any of the people she so lovingly opened her heart and home to.  She had family down South, but there was little connection.  Even though she was a wealthy and respected business lady, she refused to let formality stand between her and those she loved.  Matthew could hardly wait to see her again. 

             
Philadelphia was a city at war.  Soldiers and sailors thronged the streets - marching through on their way to Washington, waiting for ships being either repaired or built, or wistfully enjoying their leaves.  The hot summer day released its stranglehold as dusk approached, casting off its heat and allowing a cool breeze to blow in from the bay.  As Matthew moved farther away from the docks, women dressed in brightly colored dresses decorated the landscape, meshing with the flowers blooming in myriad colors inside window boxes.  If it weren’t for the sight of ambulance wagons transporting wounded soldiers to hospitals, one could almost believe it was a normal summer day. 

             
“Prisoners coming through!  Prisoners coming through!”

             
A loud calling jerked Matthew’s attention away from his surroundings.   He watched as everyone within hearing distance stopped to stare and gawk at the manacled men being conveyed down the road in a large, open wagon.  Matthew could feel nothing but sympathy for the dozens of men being transported to one of the various northern stockades, or to Fort Delaware on Pea Patch Island below the city.  He knew firsthand the misery of prison life.  Long after the crowds had turned away to go about their business, Matthew stared after the wagons, hating the reality of war.  Those soldiers might well be in prison for the duration of the war.  He had been exchanged only because he had been a civilian, a journalist, when captured.  Most of the men with whom he had shared his confinement were still languishing in one of the southern bastions. 

             
Matthew shook his head and moved on.  But he had changed directions.  Suddenly all he wanted was to be in the warmth of Aunt Abby’s home.  His soul longed for comfort and friendship.   He would not go to the paper’s office first.  That could wait until tomorrow.