Kary, Elizabeth (52 page)

For
a time it seemed as if the ships would slide past the fortifications without
incident, but all at once a warning beacon flared up on the levee, and a moment
later the night shuddered with the sound of cannon. With their discovery the
Benton'
s
guns boomed in answer, and the batteries on the hillside erupted with shot
and shell. All along the Vicksburg levee buildings were torched to provide
better light for the gunners, and Confederates on the Louisiana bank set fire
to a train depot at DeSoto to provide further illumination. The inferno on the
western bank cast the slowly moving ships in silhouette, and their looming dark
shapes sent shadows dancing over the rippling yellow-gold water. The night
became day as the other ironclads joined in the battle and rockets tore through
the sky to illuminate the heavens with a hellish light.

The
river opposite Vicksburg was perilous even during the day, and in the heat of
battle several of the ships were caught by the treacherous eddies. They swirled
helplessly in full view of the Confederate gunners, and one exploded in a burst
of flame as the defenders found the range. Yet the flotilla continued
downriver, passing beneath the comets that burst in the air above them, giving
the reply of their own guns until one by one the Union ships moved through the
several miles-long gauntlet and beyond the Confederates' range. Flares rose
into the sky to mark each boat's safe passage, and after nearly two hours of
incessant pounding, the Vicksburg batteries fell silent. Darkness and the
drifting clouds of spent powder enveloped the town and the river, until the
only sound that echoed through the murk was the endless rush of the water.

"They
made it," Leigh whispered, her voice forced and low as if she had been
holding her breath since the start of the battle.

"Yes,
they made it," Hayes confirmed from the darkness beside her. She could
hear him taking his pipe from his pocket, smell the faint, sweet scent of
tobacco as he tamped down the bowl, and see the sulfurous flare of a match.

"What
does it mean?" she asked as a plume of smoke drifted past her.

"It
means that Grant has committed himself to a very dangerous course. It means
that once his troops march across the peninsula and are ferried to the east
bank of the river, they will be completely cut off from the north and fresh
supplies." There was pessimism in his tone. "No ship will be able to
run the batteries against the river's current, and the men below Vicksburg will
be completely on their own. Grant and his troops will have to do a great deal
of fighting in the next weeks to offset that disadvantage."

"Do
you think they will succeed?"

"I
don't think they have any choice if they mean to survive."

"And
do you think Vicksburg will surrender?"

"Not
without one hell of a fight. Not unless they are surrounded."

"You
mean there might be a siege?"

Hayes
was silent for a long time. "It might come to a siege," he confirmed.
There was something in his voice Leigh did not understand, something like fear
or regret. She turned to examine his expression more carefully, but a hail from
the murky darkness below diverted her attention.

"Ahoy,
Barbara Dean.
Request permission to come aboard."

"Nathan!"
Leigh called out as a skiff nuzzled alongside the riverboat. "Nathan
Travis, what a time of night to come calling!"

"Does
that mean I'm invited aboard or not?"

"Yes,
of course. Come aboard," Hayes called back.

A
few
moments later Nathan joined them on the promenade deck. There was excitement
blazing in his dark eyes, and his face was vivid with enthusiasm. "They
did it. Porter ran past the batteries and lost only one ship," he
announced proudly. "What courage that took, what daring. I wish I had been
with them."

"I'm
surprised you weren't," Hayes noted softly.

"Oh,
I'll be joining the troups marching across the peninsula to Bruinsburg in a
couple of days," he told them. "But I could hardly turn down an
invitation from General Grant to spend the evening drinking champagne on his
headquarters ship, could I?"

"Is
Grant pleased with what happened, then?" the other man asked. "He's taking
a pretty big gamble, sending his boats downriver."

"It's
all part of a brilliant plan," Travis enthused.

"Is
it now," Leigh murmured, wondering if Nathan's animation was a result of
the champagne, the evening's excitement, or his enthusiasm for the forthcoming
fight. She was glad Hayes was no longer risking his neck scouting for the Union
as Travis was. "Well, I wish him very good luck with what he's attempting,
but I believe I'm too tired tonight to hear more about his plans. If you
gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll retire."

Hayes
absently brushed Leigh's cheek with a kiss, and the two men stood in silence
listening to the sound of her footsteps retreating across the deck.

Travis
took out one of the dark cigars he had procured from Grant's private stock
earlier in the evening and lit it, studying his friend in the glow of the
flame.

"Something's
bothering you about all this," he observed, then cast the lighted match
over the railing to hissing oblivion in the water below.

"What
Grant's doing is risky," Hayes said, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe.
"He could lose both his men and his ships."

"Yes,
but squeezing the city between two armies is also the only way to make
Pemberton surrender and open the river to Union transportation."

"He
is planning to surround the city?" Hayes wasn't really looking for
confirmation; he knew very well what Grant intended.

Travis
nodded. "It's all but cut off from the countryside now, anyway."

Hayes
looked across the water to where the lights of Vicksburg twinkled in the
distance half-obscured by the drifting clouds that were the aftermath of
battle. Silence hung heavily between the two men as a frown came and went on
Banister's face.

"She
is still there, if you were wondering," Travis offered.

Hayes's
head snapped around to look at the other man. "Who?"

"Monica
Bennett, your former mistress. I was in the city at the end of last week. Most
of the civilians have decamped, but she and her son were still there, alone in
that big house on Cherry Street."

Hayes
drew a long breath. "He's my son, too," he said quietly, not
questioning how Travis knew about his relationship with Monica.

"Are
you sure?"

Hayes's
pained expression was all the confirmation Nathan needed.

"How
do you think the citizens of Vicksburg will fare in the next weeks?"

"Food
and water are already in short supply, and I expect the entire city will soon
be under direct fire from the mortar barges and gunboats."

It
was as Hayes had feared. Emotions he thought he had laid to rest rose inside
him. He remembered Monica's beauty, the bittersweet pleasure they had shared,
the pain of her betrayal. But above it all was the realization that his son was
in mortal danger if he remained in the city. It was that overriding fear for
the boy he had never seen that haunted him, that made him consider doing
something that could undermine all he held dear.

"They're
alone, you say?"

"Jacob
Bennett died last winter."

"Then
why the hell did they stay in Vicksburg instead of going to Monica's people in
Georgia?" It was a question for which Travis had no answer, nor did Hayes
expect one. The knowledge demanded a decision that Hayes did not know how to
make.

By
rote he packed and relit his pipe, conflicting feelings warring within him. Why
did the life of a child he had never claimed and that of a woman who had once
betrayed his love mean so much to him? How could he even consider going to them
when it would put his life and the happiness he had finally managed to secure
in jeopardy? But then, how could he turn his back on his flesh and blood when
there was even a chance that he could save them? Maybe Monica was afraid to
leave the city. Perhaps there was no one to take her to her parents' plantation
where they would be safe. How could he live with himself if he ignored the
urging of his conscience, if he refused to acknowledge any responsibility for
the child he had fathered?

Hayes
had stood quiet for a very long time before he spoke, and then his voice rang
with misgivings and regret. "I'm going into Vicksburg tomorrow at first
light to see if I can get Monica and the boy out before it's too late."

Travis
did not seem the least bit surprised by Hayes's words, nor did he try to
dissuade Banister. "Would you like some company?" he offered.
"Things are pretty tight, but I think we can get in and out of the city
without causing much notice."

Hayes
turned steady eyes on the tall, gaunt man beside him. "You don't have to
risk your neck because of me, Travis," he assured him.

"Hell,"
came the reply, soft and vibrant with the promise of adventure, "what are
friends for, anyway?"

April 17, 1863—Vicksburg, Mississippi

Vicksburg
had changed dramatically since the last time Hayes had been there. It was still
a town that melded the rough, rowdy river life with the genteel existence
preferred by the merchants, planters, and businessmen. It was still a town of
terraces, steep streets, and eclectic architecture. But in the ten years Hayes
had been away new church spires, the Sisters of Mercy's tall, red-bricked
academy, and the impressive cupolaed courthouse had altered the city's skyline.
Houses had blossomed in vacant lots and seemed to have elbowed others aside to
make room on the crowded side streets. But for all the improvements the years
had wrought, the town appeared tattered and frayed by battle.

From
the beginning days of the war Vicksburg's importance had been recognized by all
concerned. Some had referred to it as the "Gibraltar of America,"
while to Lincoln it had been the "key" to the Mississippi that he
wanted "in his pocket." Since May of the previous year it had been
under attack, and the pounding the city had received from the gunboats had
taken its toll. Houses and commercial buildings had been damaged by the
incoming fire, and many of the dwellings stood dark and shuttered, giving evidence
that the inhabitants had long since departed. The city was silent and desolate,
especially in the early hours of the morning, yet there was a strange beauty to
the place in the misty, pearl-gray half-light. The scent of honeysuckle laced
through the air, and spring flowers bloomed in gardens that had been all but
destroyed by either the bombardment or the hastily slashed artillery pits that
riddled the hillsides.

Hayes
and Travis found cover beside one of the outbuildings on the Bennett property
to wait for evidence that Monica and her son were indeed in the house. It was
pointless to risk exposure without good cause, and as they huddled behind a
woodpile, Hayes found himself thinking not of the woman he had come into the
city to rescue, but of his wife.

When
he had returned to their cabin the previous night, his decision to go into
Vicksburg already made, Leigh had been waiting for him. Curled naked in the bed
where they had first made love, she had been exquisite with her skin glowing
luminous ivory and her hair tumbled across her breasts in artless disarray. She
had drawn him down beside her and covered his mouth with hers, silencing any of
the half-formed explanations he had intended to give her. Instead he had
eagerly taken what she offered: delicious satisfaction and wondrous delight as
unstinting proof of her devotion.

"I
love you, Hayes," Leigh had whispered later in the rush and flow of
passion. "I'll love you and want you and trust you always."

Caught
up in the blissful merging of their bodies, Hayes had not taken time to
consider his wife's words, but this morning, waiting in the dew-soaked
stillness, their significance was clear. Leigh's trust was precious and
hard-won. She had given it to only a chosen few: to her father, her
grandfather, to Lucas and Bran. And now she had offered her trust to him.
Though it was a responsibility he had eagerly sought, Hayes felt soiled and
unworthy. For in the moment when Leigh had finally relinquished every part of
herself to his care, he had not had the courage to tell her the truth, either
about his past or about his plans for coming to Vicksburg.

There
was no reason for Leigh to know about this visit to his former mistress if
everything went as he hoped, Hayes rationalized as he shifted uncomfortably
beside the shingled shack. All he meant to do was to find out
why Monica and
their son were still in the city, then escort them to safety beyond the range
of shot and shell. In spite of the fact that Hayes still harbored bittersweet
memories of their days together, he had no desire to see Monica again, though
the thought of meeting the boy he had fathered held a powerful appeal. He had
often wondered about the child, and even if he had sought out neither Monica
nor the boy, Hayes was eager to see his son at last.

Travis's
nudge drew Banister's attention. "That her?" Nathan whispered.