Plantation Nation (9781621352877) (24 page)

Another concern was Zechariah. Upon his
return home, Emma desperately wanted his approval and felt guilty
for having been deceitful to both him and Eleanor. When Zechariah
returned from his mission aboard the ship, he brought home his own
news. In early March, the steamer he was aboard encountered the
CSS Virginia
, a Confederate ironclad.
Zouave's
firepower proved useless against the frigate. Virginia damaged
Zouave with a shot to its rudder-post and propeller wheel, but the
Union ship held its own and assisted other ships in the Hampton
Roads area until USS Monitor arrived and engaged in the first-ever
naval battle with Vir
ginia
. The ships' historic battle ended
in a tie after many hours of exchanged firepower, and
Zouave
was towed to the Baltimore Navy Yard, where Zechariah de-boarded,
and the ship was repaired.

Eleanor sat astonished and speechless,
hearing of Zechariah's adventures for the first time.

Zechariah showed little surprise at Emma's
revelation but hesitated upon hearing her desire to resume her
duties and disguise. A long discussion followed over supper that
evening, and by the time their plates were empty and their stomachs
satisfied, the chaplain gave his blessing, and the trio prayed.

Unfortunately, Emma did not have the chance
to inform James of her revised decision. The lieutenant, along with
the rest of the company, had gone to Yorktown. Zechariah also
headed to Yorktown, where he was needed most, and though Emma
fiddled with the idea of sending a letter along with him for James,
she abandoned the notion. Composition, as her governess would
agree, was not her strongest skill, and she believed the news would
be best coming from her. That is, if it were of any importance to
James. Now, Emma knew he had too much on his mind, including Lily,
to bother with a thought about her.

To a degree, Emma was now homeless. Graham
had taken the tent with him to Yorktown, but in truth, Emma was
glad. Feeling too compromised now to continue with the arrangement
she moved her belongings to Eleanor's and split her time between
there and the hospital.

As she healed, Emma eased back into shifts at
the hospital as her strength allowed. With most of the staff gone
and beds empty, Emma and Eleanor oversaw the hospital on their
own.

Late one evening, as Emma was about to
collapse on a cot for a few hours of sleep, Eleanor appeared.

"James is here," she said anxiously.

"Is he hurt?"

"No, but he came on the ambulance with more
wounded. I think some of them are from your company."

Emma grabbed a stretcher and followed Eleanor
to the wagon. She hadn't spoken to James since the incident at
Eleanor's home. She wasn't sure he'd want to see her, but she
ignored that nagging thought. When Emma's eyes met James', he froze
with perplexity. He jumped from the ambulance. Blood covered his
jacket.

Emma gasped. "Are you hurt?"

James glanced at his jacket. "Ain't me. What
are you doing here?" he asked in a lowered voice.

"I didn't want to leave." Emma fixated on his
bloody jacket. "I'm needed here."

"Emma," James said under his breath as he
took her by the arm. "You were almost killed. I don't want to see
you end up like this." He nodded toward the men in the
ambulance.

"The war isn't over yet. My place is
here."

"No."

"Lieutenant," called one of the ambulance
attendants, "help me with these men!"

James turned to assist and carry a stretcher
into the hospital tent.

Emma stared after him, even after he gave her
an angry glare.

Eleanor spoke into Emma's ear. "He's worried
about you. That's all. You can't let it upset you. We have too much
work to do."

****

Emma worked into the night, administering
morphine, stitching wounds, and packing holes of flesh with
bandages. Supplies ran low as the staff tended to thirty men. Five
had died, mainly from the long boat ride and transport back to the
encampment. The dead bodies were placed outside of the tent until
they could be buried in the morning. The stench of blood and death
permeated Emma's every pore. It was a smell she couldn't get used
to.

According to James, he had been in charge of
leading a unit on a surprise attack to permeate the Confederate's
defenses. Unfortunately, he and his men encountered an ambush of
Rebels. A skirmish broke out, though both sides were eager to
retreat. James insisted on bringing his wounded men back to the
encampment, despite the distance, since their makeshift hospital
unit on the Rappahannock was still skeletal at best.

In need of more bandages, Emma went to the
rear of the tent to check and see if Dr. Hillman's secret supply
had been discovered yet. She lost all concentration when she saw
James. Shirtless and using a pair of forceps, he plucked miniature
balls of lead from a groove in his shoulder.

"You lied to me about being hurt." Emma
rushed to his aide and took the forceps from his hand. She brought
over another lantern and told her commander to sit still.

"Plenty of men worse off than me." He
grimaced as Emma removed another pellet and tossed it into a
bowl.

"You're so stubborn!"

"That, comin' from you? Ow!"

Emma poured water in the gash before sewing
it shut. She administered a dose of opium, though James claimed he
didn't need it.

"You need to get some rest," she said. "Come
on. Let's put you in McClellan's tent."

Emma wiped off his chest and found a distinct
pleasure in doing so, her typical nervousness around him gone. She
liked taking care of him, and not as Tom Edmonds. Then she
shouldered James and led him to McClellan's tent.

As the opium took effect, James became
groggy. Emma eased him onto McClellan's bed and made sure he was
set for a long sleep. She picked up his jacket, determined to wash
and mend it herself, when an envelope slipped to the ground. It was
a letter, addressed to James and dated a month ago. Curious, she
helped herself to its contents.

Dear James,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have
awful sad news. Lily has taken a turn for the worse. Winston
fetched the doctor, but he told Winston and me that he thinks she
will not live to see the morning. He said there is no remedy and no
hope. The boys are right sad. They both sat with her and held her
hands, but I don't think she knowed they was there. They cried long
and hard for their Momma. Nathan and I cried for our daughter. We
will take care of everything here. We pray for your safe
return.

Yours,

Mabel

Emma felt a heaviness in her chest. She
looked at James and wished she had not violated his privacy.
Quickly, she replaced the letter and tucked it back inside the
jacket. She laid the jacket near him, convinced he would want the
letter close. Delicately, and with shaky hands, she ran her fingers
through his hair and longed for a way to comfort him and to mean
something to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

She laid her head lightly on his bare chest.
Being skin to skin with him enthralled her. The steady rhythm of
his heartbeat pounded her ears, and the smooth movement of his
breathing made her body tingle in ways she didn't know were
possible. She recalled what James had said about the last time he
had seen Lily and how he had reconciled that moment to being the
last he would see her alive. Even so, Emma suspected James had been
lying, and that had been his only way of guarding himself from a
deluge of depression.

And at that moment, perhaps more than
anything, Emma wanted to know what it felt like to be loved that
deeply.

Neither Emma nor James roused at the bellow
of reveille the next morning, but the commotion General McClellan
created soon after with his entrance into the tent got them both
onto their feet and at attention. Emma felt the aches from sleeping
slumped in a ladder-back chair, and like the morning, James' pains
were fresh and new.

"You may remain at ease, gentlemen,"
McClellan said. "I've traveled all night, and you're just the men I
needed to see. No wonder I had trouble finding you in the camp. I
see you've taken good care of my quarters." He stopped and pointed
a roll of papers at James. "Lieutenant, are you incapacitated?"

James slipped on a shirt Emma had placed near
his jacket. "Nothing worth concern."

"Excellent, because now is not the time for
either one of you to be down." He looked at Emma. "I have another
mission for you, Edmonds."

Emma and James traded glances.

McClellan unfurled maps on a table and
invited them closer.

"Our troops' recent action was a failure." He
cast a glance at James, and Emma wondered if the general blamed
James for the outcome. "Before we launch a full assault on
Yorktown, I need more information. Edmonds, I need you to
infiltrate the camp again. I need to know the precise location of
their ammunition tent and a log of its contents. I also need you to
get a look at their maps, or to steal one if necessary. The same
goes for any written documents you may come across, including
communications or mention of strategy. We need every advantage we
can muster against their forces. Are you up for it?"

Inwardly, Emma fumed. She'd supplied
McClellan with exactly what he'd requested when she'd returned from
her first mission. Despite his threats and unreasonable
expectations, she'd delivered
—
and nearly died in the process. How could he possibly ask her to do
it again? In her opinion, McClellan had rendered the information
useless by wasting time and not assaulting the Rebels promptly.
Over a period of weeks, it only made sense that the Confederates
may have changed their positioning and tactics.

Emma glanced at James, almost in need of his
approval. She dared not to think about the difficulties of
penetrating the camp again
—
or
the danger of escaping. Her tender side ached at the thought. Plus,
there was Big Sam to think about. She knew it would be too risky to
return as Cuff, especially not knowing for sure if Big Sam was the
one who had shot her as she'd fled. And there was no telling what
he had told the Rebels after Cuff's audacious getaway.

Did McClellan really think infiltrating the
camp had been that easy?

"Yes, sir." Emma kept from groaning as she
said it.

"So am I," James said.

"What?" Emma and McClellan asked
simultaneously.

"I'll go in with you, Edmonds, and watch your
back."

"I appreciate the offer," Emma chose her
words carefully, "but I think it's best for me to handle this
operation alone."

"With all due respect to Edmonds, I believe
such a mission is best served with two parties involved, General.
With the outbreak of a battle likely, someone simply to help cover
him might be a good idea."

Emma stepped up. "General, a two-person spy
operation only increases the risk for failure. You would have to be
absolutely foolish to think that could work."

"Foolish, huh?" James asked casually.

"Foolish," Emma said in his face. "It was
hard enough maintaining a cover on my own. Sending in two of us
would only jeopardize both our lives! I made it through on my
own."

"Barely."

"Besides," Emma raised her voice and turned
to McClellan. "Lieutenant Trumball only came in last night with his
injury. Infection could set in, and he lost a lot of blood, which
may explain his irrational thinking."

"Stitches and missin' flesh is about all it
accounts for."

"Hmphf," McClellan said. "The two of you seem
to have a penchant for injury."

"As for irrational thinkin'," James
continued, ignoring McClellan's remark, "you're the one who's a bit
confused, Edmonds. New information has been brought to me."

McClellan perked up. "What new information
might that be, Lieutenant?"

Emma and James regarded each other. James
gave Emma a hard, warning look. Would he really do it, though, Emma
wondered. Would he inform the general that a female had penetrated
the ranks? She couldn't take that chance. Understanding his
intended threat, she backed down.

"It's just that I've recently engaged with
the enemy, General," he said. "I'm better qualified to gauge their
position."

"Yes, indeed," McClellan said.

Emma could breathe again, but James addressed
her directly.

"Since I'm your commander, I insist this be a
joint venture, with your approval, of course, General."

Fury burned in Emma. She hated that James was
taking advantage of the situation. Perhaps this was his measure of
revenge on Emma for swiping the courier position from him. She
wondered if deep down James was jealous of her and all she had
accomplished as a soldier. If he outted her, Emma would be stripped
of any honor, and she had to wonder if James would derive pleasure
from such a spectacle.

"Permission granted," McClellan said. "For
this assignment, I believe you're right, Lieutenant. Both of you
working together will double our chances for success." He switched
his gaze to Emma. "I appreciate your position on the matter,
Edmonds, but this time, I want Trumball to accompany you. Is that
clear?"

"Yes, sir." She darted her eyes to James and
didn't bother to hide her resentment.

"Good." McClellan nodded. "You should also be
aware that warnings have been issued to be on the lookout for
spies. Apparently there's rumor that our camp has been compromised.
Should there be any truth to the allegation, Lieutenant, order your
men to shoot such traitors."

James and Emma traded glances at the irony
while McClellan rolled up his maps.

****