Handpicked Family. Shannon Farrington

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СКАЧАТЬ Winchester, where they had previously counted a full shipment of goods, and the last rail stop in Mount Jackson. How that had happened Trudy couldn’t say. Her heart was grieved at the thought of what they had lost. Several Ladies Aid societies and Baltimore churches had raised the funds and supplies necessary for this journey. Trudy could only hope that whoever had commandeered their supplies had done so because they were in even more desperate need than the people in front of her.

      “How do we know you’ll be there at one o’clock?” A tall man asked. “Don’t trust no Yankees.”

      “Actually, we’re from Maryland,” Trudy said. Her announcement did not have the effect she had hoped.

      “Even worse,” the man sneered. “Yun’s talk outta both sides of your mouth. You promise help and then don’t deliver.”

      At that comment Trudy couldn’t help but take offense. She knew there was suspicion in the South toward the border states like Maryland—slave states that had not seceded from the Union. But she couldn’t help thinking it was unfair, especially when so many Maryland men had left to enlist in the Confederacy. My brother certainly delivered, she wanted to say. A knowing nudge from Emily, though, and a sharp, albeit well-meaning glance from Dr. Mackay kept her quiet. Obviously they thought the less she said right now the better.

      Trudy reckoned that was wise advice, for as the group approached she studied the tall man who appeared to be the leader. Although his frock coat was full of holes and his boots had nearly just as many, Trudy recognized he was not to be tangled with. The look in his eyes scared her. She had seen it before in the faces of wounded soldiers at the hospital, the ones who had been through the worst of battle and were unable to forget. The ones who are haunted by hate, she thought.

      Emily recognized it, too. “Perhaps it’s a good thing our planned military escorts did not arrive,” she whispered. “Their blue uniforms would only add fuel to the fire.”

      Trudy swallowed back the lump in her throat. Had she already done so by announcing they had come from Maryland? The man with the vengeful eyes was studying her intently.

      “Gentlemen,” Dr. Mackay said, “I understand your frustration.”

      “You don’t know nothin’,” the leader retorted. “You’re a Yankee. You’re used to hot meals and warm beds.”

      “Aye. ’tis true that I’m from the North,” Dr. Mackay admitted. “Pennsylvania. Before that, Scotland, but I’m not here as a soldier. I’m here as a Christian offering aid.”

      “Well, we’ll see about that.”

      The rain had stopped but still Trudy shivered. The other two able-bodied men in the group were carrying pitchforks. As for the ones hobbling on crutches, no one knew what they concealed in their clothing.

       And here I sit helpless beside Emily. If David were here, he could help protect her. What real use am I? If something happens to her, to her husband, what about poor little baby Andrew?

      Emily had sacrificed time with her precious seven-month-old son to come to Virginia. Andrew was home in Baltimore with Emily’s parents.

      Determined to do her best by the baby and his mother, Trudy stole a glance to her right, then her left. The road on which they were presently parked was sunken, with high banks on both sides. Even the most skilled teamster would find escape impossible. She looked again at Dr. Mackay. Trudy knew he would do his best to defend them both, but he was severely outnumbered.

      It was then that a pair of riders crested the knoll. One was dressed in the black garb of a parson. At sight of the other, Trudy’s heart skipped a beat. She would have recognized those broad shoulders anywhere. Peter Carpenter was riding toward them.

       Oh Lord. Thank you!

      “Gentlemen,” Peter called in his typical commanding voice as he approached. “It was determined that you should come to the church this afternoon to receive assistance.”

      “We don’t want to wait,” the tall leader retorted.

      “I realize that, Mr. Zimmer, Mr. O’Neil, Mr. Jones,” he said, addressing the two with the pitchforks, as well, “but it’s only fair to the other folks in the area to wait. Come to the church at one and we will see to your needs.”

      Trudy felt her anxiety slipping away. They will listen to him, she thought.

      The parson had caught up to him. The poor man looked as weathered and threadbare as his parishioners. While he continued the conversation with the disgruntled men, Mr. Carpenter urged his horse toward Dr. Mackay’s wagon.

      “Where’s the other buckboard?” he asked.

      “Part of our shipment was mislaid,” Dr. Mackay said.

      “Stolen?” Mr. Carpenter clarified.

      “It looks that way.” Dr. Mackay then explained how the Federal escorts had never arrived. “I thought it more foolish to remain idle at the station, so we started for our destination.”

      Mr. Carpenter grumbled in agreement. Then he noticed her. His left eyebrow arched. “What are you doing here?”

      She was used to his curt tone and unpolished manners. But this is not surprise speaking, she thought. It was obvious disapproval. It wasn’t as though she had expected open arms, but still...did he think she had followed him here purposefully, relentlessly intent on claiming him as a husband? That certainly wasn’t the case now.

      But will he believe that? “David couldn’t come,” she said with all the steadiness of voice she could muster.

      “So I see.”

      She started to tell him why but he clearly didn’t care to hear it now. “I’ve already plenty of responsibility, Miss Martin,” he said. “I’ve no need for more.” And at that he whipped his horse back in the direction of the men.

      * * *

      Irritated couldn’t even begin to describe what Peter was feeling in that moment. Furious perhaps was more like it. No doubt Miss Martin had some plausible excuse for deliberately inserting herself into these events, but he didn’t have time for it now, not when a pack of unruly, hungry men were pressing their grievances.

      Reverend James Webb, the underfed and overwhelmed parson of these parts, was still trying to assuage the fears of those gathered. “I assure you, Jack, Tom, Arthur, there will be food for all, if you’ll only let these people get it organized.”

      “How d’ we know if you’ll still have food by one o’clock?” Jack Zimmer yelled.

      “How do we know ya won’t give it to someone else?” Tom O’Neil added.

      As the men continued to pepper the parson with questions, Peter stealthily felt for the derringer tucked discreetly inside his frock coat pocket. Yes, this was a mission of mercy but he was not about to be at the mercy of a riotous mob. He’d seen what desperate men could do before. Back in 1861, an unruly pack in Baltimore had rioted and brought about the opening bloodshed of four years of war.

      And for what good? Peter thought. The result was that a generation of America’s brightest and best were dead and the country СКАЧАТЬ