Authors: Jesse Taylor Croft
He was thinner than Miranda remembered him, more gaunt and hard. Of course not many people added on flesh these days, and
John Ballard was right about him; he was melancholy and morose. But what surprised her about Noah Ballard was that he had
lost none of the boyishness she remembered from the time they’d first met. Some of the flame had faded from his eyes, but
the flame was still there.
“We dined with your father,” Ash said, “and your friend Will Hottel.”
“My friend?” Noah asked with evident distaste.
“So I was led to believe,” Ash said, then sailed on after a quick questioning glance at Miranda, which she quickly returned.
“And we discussed you and your many courageous exploits. And, realizing that you were all alone tonight, Miranda suggested
we pay you a visit.”
“In order to cheer me up?” Noah asked.
“You
are
alone,” Ash reminded him. “It’s not a pleasant way to spend your days and nights.”
“It’s good enough for me,” Noah said, trying, and succeeding, to be rude.
“Well,” Ash replied, undaunted, “here we are. And I’m glad to see you.”
“Thank you for coming,” Noah said. “But I’m terribly tired. Perhaps,” he added vaguely, “some other time.”
“Not so fast, son,” Ash said. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Noah looked at him without interest, impatient for Ash to get on with his business.
“You know my nephew, Lam, don’t you, Major?” Noah allowed him a slight assenting tilt of his head. “Have you heard he was
injured?”
“Lam? No. Was he?”
“A shrapnel burst. Did him a lot of damage.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’s in town here, recovering.”
“I’d visit him,” Noah said, “but as you see, I’m pretty much out of action myself.” His tone made his words sound like an
excuse, but Miranda knew he was telling the truth.
“Your father told me your leg was smashed up in four places,” Ash said, giving him some commiseration. “Quite an injury!”
“It’ll do until something better comes around.”
Ash nodded vacantly, then grew intent. “I came to talk about you and Lam.”
What is there to say?”
“Just that tomorrow we’re going to move you two together. We’ve got a house over on Pryor for the time being, and some of
the best and most beautiful nurses you could hope to have to minister to you. So tomorrow you’re going over there.”
“That sounds like an order,” he said with resentment in his voice. Miranda could tell, though, that he was interested.
“It is an order.”
“What if I’d rather stay here?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“You can see inside me? You must be quite a perceptive man.”
“No, I can see your face and your eyes. That tells me what I need to know. They tell me you could do with some companionship.
And that’s just what I have a surplus of.”
Noah just stared, which was probably a victory, Miranda thought. At least he didn’t continue to deny that he wanted to go.
And he held off on his petulance, too.
“So,” Ash said, rising to his feet, “that’s settled. We’ll take our leave now. You said you wanted to rest.”
“Thanks for coming,” Noah said. His voice was not unfriendly now, but it was still distant and uncertain. “And thanks for
the food.”
“You’re quite welcome, Major.”
“Noah,” he corrected. “Call me that.”
“All right,” Ash said, “Noah.” He offered Miranda a hand. “Come on, my dear, we’ll be off.”
“Good-bye, Noah,” she said, as she came to her feet. “I hope you are more rested tomorrow.”
She started for the door, but as she did, she felt a restraining pressure on her hand. “By the way,” Ash said to Noah, almost
as an afterthought, “your father was saying to me that you had quite an adventure down on Mobile Bay.”
“There was a storm,” Noah allowed.
“I’ve been in bay storms. They can be wild and dangerous.”
“Yeah,” Noah said.
“He told me the ferry you were on sank out from under you after your leg was busted, and that you managed to save the skin
of that man—what’s his name, Miranda?”
“Hawken.”
“That’s it, Hawken. Even with your busted leg, you pulled him off and saved his skin so that you could bring him to justice
here in Atlanta.”
“My father told you that?”
“That’s what he told us,” Ash said. “And he was damned proud of you when he said it. And he should be.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Oh?”
“It was the other way around,” Noah said. “Sam Hawken saved me. Sam and Jim Sutton, who’s an old cavalry sergeant friend of
his from Texas.”
“Sam! Miranda choked, then sobbed. Her hand, she realized, was still encased in Ash’s. She realized it when he tightened his
grip on it to keep her from saying anything.
“Is that so?” Ash asked mildly. “I was sure we heard it the other way. Right, Miranda?”
“Yes,” she said, her mind churning.
“It happened the way I told you. I was hurt bad, and unconscious, and the two of them pulled me off the boat.”
“I wonder why they told us the story that other way,” Ash asked innocently. But his mind was churning, too. Miranda could
tell from the tension of his hand.
“Well,” Ash went on, as elaborately casual as a country lawyer, “that being the case, I wonder about your current opinions
of Sam Hawken.”
Noah’s eyes grew pained, confused. “Why do you ask that?” Then the eyes grew narrow, suspicious.
“Just curious, is all,” Ash said. “It’s just that your father and Captain Hottel had nothing positive to say about Captain
Hawken.”
“I’m grateful to him,” Noah admitted.
“I recall that you and Lam and him were friends once, way back when.”
“We were.”
“But that’s all changed.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s pretty damned confusing, isn’t it?”
“You can’t deny that we’re enemies.”
“You
are
fighting on opposing sides,” Ash said.
“And you can’t deny the harm that he’s done to us.” Noah’s voice caught.
“I guess you can’t.”
“But…” Noah’s voice trailed off into uncertainty.
“But Sam Hawken did save your life, and you’re grateful. And you don’t know what to make of all the evidence you see with
your mind and feel with your senses.”
“Yeah,” Noah said. “That just about sums it up.”
“So what do you think, Noah, is going to happen to Sam Hawken?”
“He’s a spy. He’ll be tried.”
“And shot?”
“Looks like it.” Noah said that slowly, in a near whisper.
“But if you had your way…?” Ash asked gently. His hand was like a lock around hers, though. It was almost painful.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’d do,” Noah said with a deep sigh. “He didn’t just save me. There’s another thing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“After Sam and his sergeant got me to shore, Sam stayed there until the sergeant could bring help back. To make sure I was
all right.”
“He did?”
“He could have run off. Escaped.”
“But he didn’t.”
“That’s right, Mr. Kemble. He stayed with me.”
“Your father told me they’re going to put Sam Hawken up for trial as soon as you’re well enough to testify.”
“I guess that’s so. I’m the chief witness against him.”
“Well,” Ash said with easy good humor, “that sure makes a fascinating tale.” Then to Miranda, “I told this young man a while
ago that we were going to let him rest. And here we are keeping him up with uncomfortable questions. Let’s get us gone, my
dear.”
“No, wait,” Noah said. There were questioning furrows on his forehead. “Before you all go, tell me what makes Sam Hawken so
fascinating to you.”
“Oh, nothing much, Noah. It’s just a good yarn, and I’m overendowed with curiosity. Tell him good-bye, Miranda.”
“Good-bye, Noah. We’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Miranda. Thank you for coming.” This time he meant it.
“Oh, yes,” Ash said when the two of them reached the door, “there’s one more thing.”
“All right,” Noah said.
“Your father was just sky-high proud of you for bringing back those locomotives. Captain Hottel obviously had a large hand
in all that, but I could tell that it was you your father was proudest of.”
“Well, I am his son.”
“Yes, there is that,” Ash said. “And I’m sure that’s a big part of it.” He paused, took a breath. “But there’s also the fact
that you’ve delivered a splendid benefit to the family business.”
“Huh?” Noah asked, genuinely baffled by that remark.
“You’ve probably done the best thing you’ve ever done for him. You’ve brought him a big slice of those engines.”
“Him?” Now Noah was not only confused, he was disturbed.
“Well, to be accurate, you provided them to the Atlanta and Western Railroad, but it’s all the same. The point is he’s about
to accept about eighteen or twenty of those locomotives you brought here.”
Noah didn’t say anything. His eyes filmed over, then refilled with cold, intense fury.
While that was going on, Ash looked at Miranda.
We’ve hit gold!
his look told her.
After that, she trembled; all that was happening this evening was almost more than she could handle.
Ash’s hand found hers again and steadied her.
Then he led her out and quietly shut the door behind him.
On the stairway downstairs she stopped and turned to him. “What was going on in there?” she asked.
“I’m not completely sure,” he said. “But I’d be willing to bet that that boy has been betrayed by his father. And we carried
him the first news of it.”
“Betrayed?” she asked, leaning against the banister. She needed all the support she could find. “How?”
“Maybe about Sam. Certainly about those engines. I don’t know how all.”
“How did you know to ask him about those things?”
“I didn’t. I threw bait on the water and waited to see if I got any bites. I got more than I expected.”
“What are we going to do next?”
“Think some more. Get that boy with Lam. It will do both of them a world of good. And tomorrow I’m going to see your man,
Sam Hawken.”
“You know where they’re keeping him?”
“It won’t take long to find out.”
“What are you going to say to him? What will you ask him?”
“I don’t know. I’ll play it by ear, the way we’ve been doing so far.”
“And then what?”
“And then I think I might go see Mr. Calhoun, the mayor, and maybe Colonel Wright, the military commander. And maybe after
that, Sergeant Sutton—if he’s still around.”
“I want to go with you to see Sam.”
“You can’t, baby,” Ash said quickly. “That just wouldn’t work.” He bent down and gave her an affectionate kiss on the forehead.
“I still want to see him.”
“You just can’t, Miranda,” he insisted. “And besides, I’ve got a more important job for you.”
“What’s that?” she asked, curious but also reluctant to let go of her need to see Sam.
“It has to do with your brother.”
Just then a servant appeared and approached the foot of the stairway. “Can I help you find the doh, Mistah Kemble,” he said.
“Why, thank you,” Ash said, and he and Miranda walked out to the carriage.
The night was brilliant, starry, and lonely as infinite space.
“What about Lam?” she asked.
“I want you to work on him. I’ll tell you how later.”
“I probably know how already.”
“You probably do,” he said. Then, under his breath, “I hope it works out.”
October 11, 1863
Captain Sam Hawken was confined in a building just north of Walton Street, where the garrison of the Military Post of Atlanta
was headquartered. His cell was larger and more comfortable than the one Noah Ballard had devised for him in Mobile. He was
given better food, better bedding, a pen and paper, a Bible, and a lamp to read and write by.
As in Mobile, the authorities forbade him visitors. As in Mobile, this rule was not enforced.
Sam’s first visitor was his sergeant friend, Jim Sutton.
Sutton was currently assigned to the fortifications around the city. He was in charge of half a dozen work crews.
“I can’t stay long, Sam,” Sutton said. “I just wanted to look in on you to see how you were. And to see if there was anything
I could do for you.”
“It’s hard to think of anything you can do for me, Jim,” Sam said. “Or at least anything they’d let you. But I’m looking all
right—at least for a man who’s got nothing better to do than to read the Bible. It’s a weight on a person reading that. It
sets your mind too much on the afterlife.”
“Thinking about the afterlife doesn’t yield much pleasure,” Jim agreed wryly.
“Oh, I’d be willing enough to give the afterlife a try,” Sam said, “after I’ve exhausted all the other possibilities….”
“Maybe I could find you something else to read,” Sutton offered.
“I’d appreciate that.”
Sutton grinned. “Myself, I’d rather read a pretty girl,” he said.
“You and me both,” Sam said with a rueful shake of his head. “There’s one in particular…”
“I sort of sensed something like that.”
“She’s a good one.”
“You wouldn’t take less than the best, Sam Hawken,” Sutton said. “Where’d you find her?” he continued. “Up north?”
“No, as a matter of fact, she’s living not far from here.” His face grew suddenly animated. “And there
is
something you can do for me, Jim.”
“You want to get a message to her?”
“That’s it! Her name’s Miranda Kemble, and she lives at a place called Raven’s Wing. It’s about thirty miles northeast of
here.”
“Write something, and I’ll make sure she gets it. I’ll come back for it this evening, if I can. Then you can tell me all about
her.”
“Thanks, Jim,” Sam said. “And I will.”
“I’ve got to be goin’ now.”
“Sure,” Sam said, rising to shake Sutton’s hand. “But before you go,” he said, as their hands both clasped, “tell me. Is there
any word on Tom Stetson? Was he drowned in the storm? Did they catch him?”
“There’s no word, Sam. Nothing.”
“Damn!” Sam said. “What about you? Are you all right? My old friend Major Ballard looked like he was planning to throw the
book at you for insubordination and all kinds of terrible shit.”