* I'm excited to FINALLY post this chapter and to let you all know that this story is still very much alive. I've struggled with 'writer's block' and other distractions this past year and I'm hoping that I can now move forward. My intention has always been to see this story through and I thank you for your patience. Your kind words continue to motivate me more than you know!

Chapter 9

"How long is she gonna sleep?"

The tiny voice was just a whisper at the edge of Lou's consciousness. Trickles of water could be felt running down her temples and into her hair from the damp cloth that covered her eyes and forehead — the coolness of the cotton sheets beneath her felt like an unfamiliar heaven against her skin.

Where am I?

The gentle pressure of little fingertips poked at the flesh of her cheeks as the sweet smell of pancakes and molasses lingered near her nose.

"Lawdamercy, child! Leave the poor girl be!" The husky voice of an older woman could be heard chattering along as she swatted the little hand away. She took the damp cloth from Lou's head and walked across the room to the mahogany dresser where she dipped it once again into the washbasin, wringing it out.

No sooner did the older woman turn her back did Lou feel the persistent jabbing continue, this time inching ever closer to her closed eyelid. Before she knew it, she saw an explosion of color along with the stinging sensation of a little thumb prying her left eye open. The room's soft light filtered in through her watery tears, and soon, she found herself staring into the bright blue eyes of the little blonde-haired boy she had met a few weeks ago.

Jep? How'd I get here?

"Are you dead?" The little boy whispered, his cherubic face so close to Lou's she could feel his breath touch her lips.

Lou's mouth curved into a small smile when she heard his sweet voice for the first time, wondering exactly how long she had been asleep if the poor boy had thought her dead.

"Ahh, so you can talk!?" Lou exclaimed as she brought her hand to her throat, surprised to find how dry and raspy her own voice was when she spoke.

Blinking hard a few times, the room came into focus. She turned her head to the side just in time to watch the little boy scamper across the room, his tiny body seeking refuge behind a stout negro woman.

Lou found it hard to stifle her laughter when she saw him peek his head out from the older woman's side, his fists full of the coarse calico fabric — eyes widened with fear.

The woman's deep thunderous laughter filled the room and Lou couldn't help but watch in amusement as the house servant reached around her backside to grab the boy's wrist, bringing him to stand at attention before her.

"Oh, no ya ain't! Ya ain't gonna hide yo way out of it this time, master Jep! No sir! I always be wastin' ma breath tellin' ya ta mind yo own business and to keep yo hands to yoself. 'Bout time someone made ya learn yo lesson the hard way!" She admonished.

The boy struggled against her grasp but managed to wiggle out of the older woman's hold, scurrying out of the room and out of sight down the hallway.

The woman walked toward the door, peeking her head out to peer into the hall, "And where'd ya think yo goin'!? Ya best get yo hind end back here right now before I…" She stopped, poising a hand on her ample hip, waving the damp cloth into the air, "Boy! Don't ya be givin' me that look!"

Lou smiled as she watched the woman's hysterics from her place in bed, figuring little Jep had managed to run this household. The boy brought to mind memories of Jeremiah when he was that age.

"Ooh, that child! Quiet trouble is what I's like to call that one. He got way too much of his mama in him! Way too much!" The servant continued to babble on as she waddled her way back over to Lou's side, lifting the hem of her brown cotton skirt in order to sit down onto the plush mattress.

"I's gettin' too old fo this! Too old, I tell ya!"

Lou grinned with the thought of Eliza being a difficult child. In the brief encounters she'd had with the young woman, she couldn't picture her being anything but straight and narrow or prim and proper.

"Looks like you have your hands full." Lou stated, propping her body up and onto one elbow, trying to reach for the tall glass of water that was on a side table next to the bed, but she felt the warmth of the older woman's hands pressing against her shoulders, pushing her body back down into the soft pillow.

"Best ya lay yoself back down, missy. I's be gettin' the water fo ya."

The scornful look Lou received after initially resisting the servant's request was enough to finally get her to comply. She leaned back, letting the bed absorb her weight, but grimaced when she noticed some unusual discomfort. She lifted her hand to touch the back of her head, feeling a large knot which was now throbbing with fire.

"How's yo head be?"

Lou heard the older woman's voice, but the question had managed to die by the time it had reached her ears. The day's earlier events began to unfold in her mind. The scenic late morning ride to Eliza's. The hollowed tones of slaves singing as they worked in the tobacco field. Miriam and her baby. Burris and Scraggs… Malloy.

"I …"

Rendered speechless, Lou's hand drifted down to her navel, her insides quivering as a sudden thought burst into her consciousness. The dark-skinned woman recognized the myriad of questions skittering across her face and placed her own aged hand on top of Lou's, patting it in quiet reassurance.

"Don't ya worry none, missy. Yo baby's just fine." The woman said, feeling Lou's body begin to relax under her touch.

"How'd I…?"

"Massa Townsend found ya out in the field this morning, said ya fainted and hurt yo's head."

Massa Townsend? Matthew. Lou remained thoughtful for a moment, realizing the man she saw in the gray Confederate uniform must have been Eliza's husband.

Suddenly, she turned her gaze to the servant, scoffing at the realization of the woman's words, the thought of her fainting was purely ridiculous. "...and I did not faint. I've never fainted in my life. I...I simply became overly warm." She held firm with her statement, drawing her lip into a thin line.

The older woman's characteristic cackle filled the room once more, "Calls it whatcha like, child, but a woman in yo's condition shouldn't be out in the heat like that. 'Specially with the likes of that sons a bitch, Malloy."

"Ruthie!" A gasp came from the door's entryway as Lou looked over to find Eliza standing with her hand clutching her chest, her mouth agape with shock, "I'll have no such words spoken in this house! Momma'd be rolling over in her grave if she heard you speak such awful words," she exclaimed, making her way closer to Lou's bedside.

With a final pat, the servant let go of Lou's hand and stood to face the younger woman, "Ya know it be the truth! Any man who beats on his own son until he be unrec'nizable — leavin' him out in the field to die like some animal, well, he ought to have the same thing done to 'em! I hope Malloy rots in…" Ruthie bit her tongue. "I ain'ts gonna say it, Miz 'Liza! I ain'ts gonna say it!"

Heaving a heavy sigh, Eliza squared her shoulders, "Truth or not, I will not have Louise further upset by the events that happened out in the field today," she warned in her southern sweetness, throwing a side glance in Lou's direction.

After a long moment, ever so slowly, her rigid posture began to soften, "You best make your way down into the kitchen, Ruthie. I've already shelled the peas and peeled the potatoes, but the bread isn't rising as it should."

The young woman gave pause, seeming to measure her next words, "I imagine it won't be too much longer before Matthew returns from the slave's quarters. This is his last night home before returning to his regiment. I want to give him a nice hot meal before he leaves tomorrow morning."

Ruthie nodded, squeezing the young woman's arm, "Well, I 'spose I's better go check on that bread then," she said before turning to walk out the door. Her voice echoing in the hallway, "Lord only knows you didn't add the salt in last like I's been teachin' ya all these years!"

Eliza shook her head, offering a slight smile when she heard the servant's words, the crinoline beneath her skirts swishing as she slowly made her way over to Lou.

"May I?" She asked permission before sitting down onto the bed to take Ruthie's place by Lou's side.

Lou glanced over at the young woman sitting next to her, noticing how the afternoon air from the open window blew errant strands of dark hair across her face. It was the first time Lou had seen Eliza with her hair down, and Lou marveled at her thick, waist-length waves that were drawn back and tied loosely with a green satin ribbon that matched her skirt.

"Looks like that Ruthie is quite the character," Lou said as she adjusted the pillow behind her back in order to sit upright in the bed.

"I must apologize, Louise. Ruthie can be a little, how should I say, forthright with her words," she looked down at her hands which were folded on her lap in front of her protruding abdomen, playing with the threads of some folded ivory cloth she held in her hand, "even though I despise her choice of such vulgar words, I assure you, Ruthie and I share the same sentiment where the likes of Vernon Malloy is concerned."

The simple mention of the man's name made Lou shudder, and despite Eliza's claims of her dislike for the man, Lou crossed her arms instinctively in front of her chest, preparing to defend her actions of going out into the field earlier in the day.

Eliza remained thoughtful, carefully watching Lou's guarded stance, trying hard to figure out what was running through the young woman's mind.

"You know, you gave us quite the scare today, Louise," her voice breaking as she looked down to smooth a ruffle on her skirt, "I've never seen Matthew so urgent in all the years I've known him — riding towards the house like he did with you slumped over in the saddle, well, my heart nearly sank at the sight."

Lou's body softened at the sincerity she found in Eliza's admission, and she smiled despite her taut nerves, watching her own thumb mindlessly rub the calloused skin of her palm, "I guess y'all are wonderin' how I ended up out there, huh? I..."

Eliza held her hand up, "I know you want to explain, Louise, but now is not the time. And anyway, you don't owe me an explanation. Now, my husband, he may want one. But me? Well, I'd be alright just knowing you and your baby are doing just fine."

Lou raised a brow, giving Eliza a measured stare, and after a quick hesitation, she looked down, smoothing her hands over her stomach, "How'd ya both know I was...?"

"Expecting?!" Eliza interrupted, her words as cheerful as sunshine, "I must admit, Louise, I had my suspicions right from the first time we met, but it just didn't seem proper for me to broach the subject unless you wanted to speak of the matter first." She said as she tucked her hair behind her ear, but the breeze coming through the window tugged it out of place again. "When Ruthie requested my assistance in removing your garments to change you into one of my bed gowns, well let's just say my earlier suspicion became realized."

Lou felt the corners of her mouth lift as a sudden thought entered her mind. How was it that every woman who surreptitiously wandered into her life always seemed to be very intuitive on the matters that she'd just assumed stayed hidden?

She opened her mouth as if she was going to speak, but stopped when Eliza reached over and rested her hand on her arm, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Well, I for one, couldn't be happier for you Louise, and I'm very much relieved to know that I'll have another woman to talk to where certain matters of the family are concerned," Eliza winked and smiled, but Lou also recognized a familiar sadness in the young woman's eyes.

"It's in troubled times such as these we'll need every ounce of strength we can muster," she paused to look Lou in the eye, patting her arm as if to give reassurance, "even if that strength is not of our own."

Strength.

Lou pulled her cheeks into what she had hoped would pass for a smile, her gaze drifting as she watched the late afternoon sunlight pour into the room through the windows, its color gracing the walls with its rosy pink and orange tint.

She didn't know whether it was the drawl in Eliza's voice or if, perhaps, the meaning behind the words themselves, but Lou suddenly found herself staring out the window and across the expanse of the Townsend courtyard — her mind inadvertently conjuring the image of Doritha Maxwell standing on the porch of the old Rock Creek bunkhouse.

"Can we talk?" The blonde-haired woman stood before Lou with her chin held high, her lengthy curls bouncing with each movement as she inched closer to the rider. "Alone."

Doritha's request caught Lou off guard, but she found herself complying with the young woman's wishes. Removing her outstretched legs from the wooden barrel, she stood to dismiss her friend from their presence. "Buck."

The southern woman didn't waste any time before speaking, walking towards Lou in resolute fashion, her hands clasped in front of her, "Do you mind if I ask you a question? It's kind of personal."

Lou stood decidedly guarded with her arms folded against her chest, her heart beating so hard she was certain she could hear it.

"I know how you and The Kid feel about each other. Why aren't you…?"

"Together?" The word slipped from Lou's mouth without any thought, her eyes glued to the woman in front of her, "We tried it once. Time wasn't right, I guess."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Doritha only nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line, meeting Lou's gaze without wavering, "There was a time I'd have given anything to have him belong to me."

Lou's eyes narrowed as she felt the sting of the woman's admission. Since moving to Rock Creek from Sweetwater, she and The Kid seemed to be on a straight path to healing their relationship. Now this stranger from Kid's past stood before her threatening to take away everything they had worked so hard for.

"Feels like a lifetime has passed since Kid left Virginia," Doritha exhaled and looked off into the distance as if to witness her childhood memories floating in thin air. "It's been a comfort knowing that he and I were able to pick up right where we left off."

"Can't say Kid ever talks much about Virginia," Lou quipped. "With the way you two have been carryin' on about old times, I woulda thought he'd mentioned the likes of you before now."

Doritha lifted her chin and the light in her eyes seemed to dim as she looked down upon the petite rider. "Well, I suppose the intimate matters within one's heart can be a difficult subject for a man like Kid to discuss."

"Or maybe he chose to leave his past behind." Lou's eyes squinted with the snide remark.

Doritha turned her face towards the busy street and walked the few steps to the porch post, leaning her body against the splintered wood, "Leave the past behind…" She let the thought linger in the air. "You make that sound so...simple."

Lou shrugged, unfolding her arms in order to shove her hands deep within her trouser pockets. "I just figure it's like Teaspoon always says, 'The past is just a story; once you realize this, it can't hold any power over you anymore.'"

"Wise man, that Teaspoon." The muscles in Doritha's jaw ticked and she turned her head toward Lou's direction. "And what about you, Louise? Is that what you believe?"

Lou stood silent with an unflinching stare.

"Tell me. What is the real reason a young woman such as yourself would choose to hide behind the disguise that is Lou McCloud?"

Doritha pressed forward, narrowing the gap between her and the female rider until they both stood face to face, her pale blue eyes bored into Lou's dark brown ones as she searched for a hidden truth buried within. "A girl doesn't wake up one morning and suddenly decide she wants to act the part of a man."

Lou's eyes widened under Doritha's interrogation, and suddenly she felt the need to step back as if to gain space from the woman's question.

"That's what I thought. It isn't an easy task leaving such a painful past behind, now is it, Louise?"

The young southerner's gaze fell to her fingers as she began twisting her wedding band, the memories swirling, her mind taking her back to the grassy meadows of their childhood in Manassas. "Those demons, those secrets from the past, they tend to linger at the surface, hide within the shadows — live in the pit of your stomach," She turned to face Lou. "If you don't confront them, they'll consume you like wildfire— kill all your hopes and dreams."

Lou watched the sadness fill Doritha's countenance, and for a brief moment, she found herself sharing an unspoken empathy with the southern woman.

"The Kid was a broken young man when he left Virginia those years ago." Doritha's voice trailed off, her eyes holding a faraway gaze. "I think a piece of my soul has mourned for him ever since the day he walked off my father's land."

"Kid told me what you did for him — payin' off his family's debts, and all." Lou said, choosing to focus on the specks of dust on her boots rather than look into Doritha's eyes. She paused, biting her cheek. "Even said he'd promise to send for ya when he got settled."

Doritha nodded, her blonde curls bouncing in agreement.

"I waited weeks, months even, without hearing a single word — I believe a part of me always knew deep down he'd never send for me given what I had…" A whinny from a horse in the corral across the street captured Doritha's attention.

Lou's gaze drifted to Doritha as she pondered the young woman's words.

"When I found out Kid was stationed here in Rock Creek, well, my heart ached to see him once again — my own eyes needed confirmation he was alive and well. And seeing him here…" Doritha's voice broke again. "Seeing him here with you, Louise, makes me realize he's found a true home, and there's nothing that makes me happier than knowing he's found a family that will love and keep him safe. With that, I believe I can now live in peace."

A complicated knot of tension and contentment grew in Lou's chest. She was scared to speak, scared to break the long silence that floated between them. She opened her mouth, but instead of hearing her own voice, it was Doritha's words that filled the air.

"Just tell me one thing. Does he have any idea how lucky he is having you for a friend?" Doritha's gaze lingered for a beat before she turned and walked the few short steps to the bunkhouse door.

Words danced on Lou's tongue as she watched the young woman disappear into the bunkhouse. "Doritha, wait!" She called out before the door had a chance to close. Seconds later, the distinctive blonde curls emerged from the rider's barracks.

"Those demons — those secrets you were talkin' about…" Her voice wavered and she paused, "What happened when you confronted 'em?"

Doritha focused on the crease in Lou's brow, seeing the concern heavily etched on her face. "Those demons I was referring to, Louise…they weren't mine." She hesitated. "They're Kid's."

Surprise turned to shock, then panic as Lou let the young woman's words sink in.

"Let's get one thing straight, Louise. You may have captured his heart, but Virginia, she courses through his veins — knows every one of our secrets. The war is already raging back east and one day soon she's going to call him home again. When she does, you best believe he'll need every ounce of strength and courage you both have to fight those demons — just as I suspect you'll need him to help you conquer yours."

Doritha cast a glance back in Lou's direction one last time, pausing to calculate her words. "You be good to him, Louise."

"Louise…Louise…" The sound of her name floated around the edges of her mind in a distinct sweet southern voice. Lou blinked hard, pressing her eyelids together tightly until she saw the green eyes of Eliza staring back at her.

"Louise?" Eliza's brow wrinkled with concern, but then the corners of her mouth lifted. "There you are! You had me worried for a spell — looked like you were off dreamin' in some faraway land!"

Lou looked around the bedroom, noticing how quickly the rosy pink and orange hues of earlier had now evolved into streaks of dark purple and blues. She sat up in bed, flinging the sheets off her body with sudden urgency.

"I…I gotta go…it's…it's gettin' late." The reminiscent conversation she had with Doritha left Lou's mind reeling, making her once again keenly aware of how the absence of Kid left a palpable void in her heart.

"And where on earth do you think you're going?" Eliza asked. "It's late and you can't just up and leave in your condition. It's not safe to…"

Lou heaved a heavy sigh before interrupting the young woman. "I appreciate your concern, Eliza, but I ain't one of your slaves." She spat. "I have a home that needs looked after, animals that need tendin' to — although, I don't suppose you'd understand the meanin' of workin' your own land and feedin' your own animals, now would ya?"

Eliza covered her mouth with her hand, the words cutting to her soul. She tried to choke down the tears that threatened to come forth, but a whispered sob still escaped.

An uncomfortable silence followed and inevitable regret took hold of Lou. She glanced over at the southern woman, but the details of her face shadowed in the waning light. "I…I'm sorry, Eliza. I never should have said that." Lou admitted as she gently lowered herself onto the cotton-stuffed mattress behind her. She bowed her head, her eyes focusing on her fingers as they began to nervously work on an errant thread of the nightgown. "I had no right accusing you of things I know little about."

Soft laughter floated from downstairs. Eliza turned her ear toward the hallway and cleared her throat to find her voice. "Sounds like Matthew is back from the quarter." A warm tear trailed down her cheek and she wiped it away. "If you'll now excuse me, I must tend to him. I'll be sure to send Ruthie up with a tray from supper." She paused a moment before adding softly, "You are free to go as you like, Louise, but I won't have you leaving my home on an empty stomach."

Eliza held Lou's gaze for a long, tense moment, but defeat forced her to look away. She turned towards the bureau and grasped the handle of one of the lit tallow candles, leaving in its place the crisply pressed ivory material she had held in her hand. "I made this for you," she said, a tremor in her voice as she smoothed the material. "If you choose not to accept it, I understand."

Lou watched as Eliza slipped quietly out of the room. Seeing the sadness in the young woman's eyes almost undid her. With the door closed, she let out a shaky breath and braced herself against the bed's post, its decorative edges biting into her skin.

"When are you ever going to learn, Louise?" Lou let out a laugh, but it was devoid of any humor. Between the confrontation earlier in the day with the Townsend's slavemaster, Malloy, and insulting the woman of the house herself, she was sure her friendship with Eliza was over before it even had a chance to blossom.

Lou gazed across the room at the desk with curiosity, the stark contrast of the scalloped edges of the ivory cloth spilled over the top of the mahogany finish. She walked the length of the room, her bare toes relishing the sensation of the oriental rug beneath her, and for the first time since little Jep had pried her eyes open, she took notice of all the room's furnishings; the artwork on the walls, the marble mantel that held the golden candlesticks, porcelain frippery, the framed photographs — the room itself was far more lavish than any home she had ever stepped foot in.

Standing next to the bureau, she grasped the delicate material within her fingers. The golden glow from the fire cast a flicker onto the ivory fabric, unveiling an infant's gown that was ornately trimmed with embroidery and lace.

"Oh!" Lou exhaled sharply, her thumb brushing against the lacy frill of the sleeves. She allowed the elation to absorb within her heart as she held the gown to her growing abdomen, but as quickly as the excitement came, the ire within herself began to grow causing her to fold the garment and place it back atop the desk, knowing it wouldn't be prudent to accept Eliza's gift given how she treated the young woman.

"Miz Liza does some mighty fine stitchin', don't she?"

Lou was startled by the sudden chatter behind her and turned to find Ruthie walking in with the tray from supper, just as Eliza promised. She smiled, reaching over to touch the embroidered stitching once again. "I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful in my life."

'Course I's taught her everythin' she knows…" the older woman continued with her jabber. "Miz 'Liza's been working on that gown every night since the two of ya met those weeks ago. All she be talkin' 'bout is Missy Louise this and Missy Louise that…," Ruthie belted out a laugh. "Thought my ears was finally gonna get some peace when ya came to yo's senses and accepted Miz 'Liza's invitation!"

Lou found it hard to stifle her laughter at the slave's accurate depiction of the southern woman's mannerisms; the soft twang in her voice, the way her hand floated about in the air as she talked.

" 'Course now ya's gone and done it!" Ruthie interrupted. "Whatever ya said to the poor woman tonight…I ain't never gonna hear the end of it now!"

Ruthie struck a match against the leg of the chair and moved to light the sconces on the wall then walked over to the window, pulling back the drapes to let the light of the moon in a cloudless sky shine in. "Lawdy, the days are gettin' shorter again," she mumbled to herself.

Lou's shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world lay on top of them. "I…I ain't exactly sure what came over me earlier. One minute I was talkin' to Eliza, then the next…well, somehow I found myself cuttin' my way through old memories…" Lou's voice faded. "Been happenin' to me a lot lately with my husband bein' gone."

The older woman took the utensils from the tray, placing them next to the stew on the table. "Memories sure are funny like that, ain't they? Sneakin' up on ya when ya least 'spect it." With her apron, Ruthie wiped away the dribbles of spilled broth. "Now come on over here and eat your supper before it gets cold. Lawd knows I'll never hear the end of it from Miz 'Liza if I's didn't feed ya proper."

"Wouldn't want that now, would we?" The snide remark escaped Lou's lips without thought, but she complied with Ruthie's demand. Picking up the rye roll from her plate and resting both of her elbows on the table's edge, she pinched off a small piece of bread, sliding into her mouth.

Ruthie eyed the young woman, who was still clad in Eliza's nightgown. Her hunched posture and poor table manners gave way to the older woman's suspicion.

"You ain't from 'round these parts, are ya?"

Lou watched the look of uncertainty pass over Ruthie's face and found it hard to subdue a laugh. "How'd ya figure that?"

"Oh honey, at my age, ya pretty much know everythin' — even things ya don't wants ta know." Ruthie continued, "I's can tell you ain't like the other girls 'round here, though." She raised her chin, and squinted. "No, there's somethin' diff'rent 'bout you."

"You mean I don't fit in with all of…" Lou waved her hand in the air, her eyes appraising all the valuables in the room as the sparkle from the crystal chandelier reflected its light onto all the mirrors and windows around her, "...of…of…this!?"

"Those are just things, child, they's don't make up the person." Ruthie shook her head vigorously and eyed Lou. "Naw, you're somethin' special. Ya got grit." The bold intensity in her voice was unmistaken.

"Grit." Lou scoffed.

Ruthie placed a hand on her generous hip, a washrag dangling from her grip. "Grit ain't such a bad thing! It makes you tougher. Stronger. Means ya got…

"It means I never should have come here to begin with. Let's just say I know Eliza's kind. I was a fool in thinkin' her and me could be friends."

"How comes I gets the feelin' like ya could be given an entire field of roses and only see the thorns?"

"It's the truth, ain't it? Eliza grew up all refined and proper-like. You know the type, born with a silver spoon in their mouth. I, on the other hand, well, let's just say my life ain't been a walk in the country."

"Sounds ta me like ya's afraid of what ya don't know."

Lou sat quiet at the table, her spoon pushing the food around on her plate, letting the truth of Ruthie's words soak in.

"I've known Miz 'Liza since the day she was born. Delivered her ma'self with my own two hands. Ya see, I's belonged to her mama, Miz Rebecca, God rest her soul. Miz 'Liza was only 9 years old when she died givin' birth to Miz 'Liza's youngest sister, Miz 'Delia. Forced her to grows up real quick."

Lou grew somber. "That's how old I was when my ma died." A sudden sadness swept across her features and she found herself aching for her lost childhood, wondering if this war would somehow rob her unborn baby of a childhood too.

Ruthie disappeared into a closet, her boisterous voice could be heard through the open door. "I know it ain't none of my business, but I think the two of ya's are more alike than what ya think. Miz 'Liza's a good one, that girl — could be given a single weed and only see the wildflower in it. Always putin' everyone else before herself. She's been awful lonesome with her husband bein' gone, with the war and all, and a might scared with that new babe comin' along. I think the good Lawd knew what he was doin' sendin' Miz 'Liza over to yo's house to deliver your letter. Yes 'em! You must have been that wildflower Miz 'Liza saw in the rough."

Ruthie reappeared through the door carrying a beautiful green smocked day gown. "This dress belonged to Miz 'Delia. I think it'll have to do fo now," she said, raising the dress up to Lou's frame. "Yes, 'em. That'll do just fine."

"Ruthie, what happened to the dress I was wearin'!?"

The slave's cackle filled the room. "Oh, honey! I's had Moses toss it in the fire out back as soon as we took it off ya. Too much of that bastard's blood on it to bother washin' it out."

Lou could feel the metallic taste in her mouth with the mention of Malloy's blood. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the sudden onset of nausea at bay. "Ruthie, that was the only dress I had that fit me."

"It's a good thing I's know a good dressmaker," Ruthie said with a wink.

"Well, that settles that. Ain't sure Eliza will make me a dress let alone speak to me again after what I said to her tonight."

The older woman patted Lou's shoulder, "Don't ya worry none, if I know Miz 'Liza like I's do, ya's already been forgiven. But befo' you go off spoutin' things yo's gonna regret again, give the poor woman a chance. She ain't never had a friend. Not truly, anyways."

Ruthie worked to untie the laces of the nightgown. "Now, raise yo's arms up," she demanded, lifting the lightweight fabric over Lou's head.

Lou instinctively crossed her arms over her naked breasts as a cool rush of air caressed her overly warm skin. "What do you mean by Eliza never had a friend? She had sisters, didn't she?"

Ruthie bunched up the fabric and slipped the dress over Lou's head, carefully smoothing out the pleats of the skirt. "One would think that a sister would be the best friend a girl could have, but Miz 'Liza was more like a mama to 'em than a sister, least that's the way them two scampers saw her as." Ruthie's animated laugh shook her body. "Lawdy! Thems two girls was rotten to the core. Had their daddy wrapped around their fingers —'course the poor man never knew it. Pretty sure that's what made him lose his land those years ago, or least ways drove him to an early grave."

Ruthie crossed her arms and eyed Lou up and down. "This here dress may be a tad long on ya and we may have to let it out some as yo belly gets bigger, but I'll just put a few pins here on the hem 'fore Massa Townsend sees ya home tonight. We's finish the stitchin' later."

"See me home…!?" The surprise in Lou's voice was evident. "Ruthie, I don't need him to take me home. I know where I live and can take care of myself!"

Ruthie cackled. "I ain't got no doubt you could, Missy Louise. Ain't no doubt you could. But as Miz Rebecca always said, 'ya can't keep pourin' from an empty cup' — needs ta take care of yo'self, just like ya's take care of others. And when people comes ta offer ya a hand, sometimes ya needs ta shut up and take it. 'Sides, Massa Townsend said it ain't safe for a woman ta be travelin' in these parts by herself, 'specially not in yo's condition. Too many lone soldiers — drifters, I think he called 'em, out there ditchin' the war. I know Miz 'Liza couldn't stomach seein' ya hurt…or worse." Ruthie looked into Lou's eyes with sincerity. "And truth be told, I's don't want ta see ya hurt none either."

The edges of Lou's mouth loosened as a smile gave way, but a dull clatter out in the hallway broke the sweet moment between the two women.

"Master Jep!" Ruthie gritted between her teeth. She walked over to the door, opening it just enough to stick her head out to yell into the hall. "Ya's better be in yo room by the time I …" Little feet could be heard scampering away. "I swear that boy is gonna put me in an early grave!"

"Quiet trouble, huh?" Lou asked with a smirk.

"Just like his mama." Ruthie sighed as she collected the dishes from the table, placing them once again on top of the serving tray. "I's better go help Miz 'Liza settle him down. She's gettin' to be too far along to catch up to the likes of him." She stopped to look back at Lou, "I's be back in a coupla minutes to sees ya make it down the stairs."

"Ruthie you're treatin' me like I've never walked down a stairway before. I ain't no child."

Ruthie turned and narrowed her gaze at Lou. "No, but ya are with child, and I ain't gonna have ya tumblin' down those steps in a half-pinned dress on my watch! No ma'am!" The older woman grabbed a candle and turned to exit the room, "Yo boots are next ta the bureau. I's be back in a coupla minutes."

With her face and hands washed in cool water and her hair freshly combed, Lou felt more herself as she descended down the stairs and made her way to the front porch with Ruthie.

Night sounds filled the air, and stars twinkled in the darkening sky. Quiet conversations and laughter could be heard from men on the porch where a handful of lamps lit the space in a comforting glow.

"Waits right here Missy. I's go fetch Massa Townsend."

"That won't be necessary, Ruthie." A man's voice could be heard in the shadows on the porch, his southern drawl was smooth, much like freshly churned butter.

Lou looked up in surprise to see a tall soldier standing in the midst of their presence. Broad shoulders filled out his dusty gray coat that reached nearly to his knees, giving way to equally dusty high black boots. A long saber hung from his belt, the handle tied with a gold cord, reflected in the lantern's light. His stature exuded power and confidence, and his dark eyes, when they met Lou's, sent a chill coursing through her.

"Would you be so kind as to tell Moses we'll be ready to leave momentarily? And please let Eliza know I'll return to her as soon as possible."

"Yes, Massa."

Ruthie gently squeezed Lou's arm one last time before stepping off the porch and heading to the barn to find her son.

The man stepped forward in the flickering candlelight and Lou could now see the rugged and handsome features of his face — how the shadow along his jaw line was long, angular, and well-defined.

"Ma'am." The deep timbre of his voice surprisingly held warmth.

Lou glanced over at the insignia on the sleeve of his frock coat, immediately recognizing the rank. "Captain." She punctuated her statement with a nod.

"I apologize that we met under such strained circumstances earlier today." The soldier extended his hand to her, "My name is Matthew Townsend, I'm…"

"I'm aware of who you are, Mr. Townsend." Lou interrupted as she reached in to shake his hand. She could tell the tall man was taken aback by how firm her grip was — feeling the pressure of the small calluses at the base of his fingers press into her hand.

"I understand it was you who brought me to safety this afternoon."

"Indeed. I assure you…Mrs…McKay, was it?" Matthew arched a thick eyebrow and leaned forward hoping to confirm his suspicions of her false identity.

Lou grew nervous under his probing gaze, and although she wasn't entirely sure, she swore she saw a glimmer of a smile hiding behind his dark mustache. She cleared her throat, "It's Mrs. McCloud."

"Ah! Well, I assure you, Mrs. McCloud, there are many questions that come to my mind in regard to the happenings out in the field today. I also find it appropriate to say that, although I'm entitled to exercise my right as a slave owner in this great state of Virginia as well as obligated to report you to the authorities for disrupting my business, I will be choosing not to do so. It's not in my interest, nor my wife's, to see you go to jail. Even though I am very curious as to what possessed a fine woman such as yourself to confront a man like Malloy, quite frankly, I don't have the privilege of time nor the capacity to fully understand how you managed to get yourself in that predicament."

Squaring her shoulders, Lou met his gaze without wavering. "To be completely honest with you, Mr. Townsend, I can't give you any better answer other than I did what needed doin'. One could say I reacted out of instinct. Black, white, brown, or yellow, no human bein', slave included, should ever be treated the way Malloy treated that girl out there today. And seeing how one's business is a reflection upon the owner, I doubt you and I will have much in common. The fact of the matter is, there is only one thing that will keep me from sleepin' tonight — and that is the regret that I didn't pull the trigger myself."

A wagon emerged through the dust and Lou welcomed the distraction with open arms. As it slowly made its way up the poplar-lined drive, she could see her horse, Blaze, saddled and tethered from behind.

"Whoa!"

A hush fell over them when Moses stopped the wagon mere feet from the steps. The slave stepped down to give Matthew the reins and then disappeared down the path that led back to the barn.

"Mrs. McCloud, it's getting late and I am scheduled to ride out with my regiment early in the morning. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to resume our conversation while I escort you to your home." The tall man gestured towards the wagon, reaching out to offer Lou assistance onto the buckboard seat. Lifting the hem of her skirt, Lou reluctantly took his hand and sat patiently until he took his place beside her.

Music was heard wafting through the night air from the house just as he was about to slap the reins to put the wagon in motion. The sound was of something quiet and somber, yet strong and powerful — a sound that stilled Matthew Townsend in his tracks.

Lou stole a peek at him just in time to see a distinct sadness wash over his hardened features. Matthew's head lowered and his eyes closed — his soul absorbing and preserving each and every note like he was hearing the song being played for the last time.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Lou's question gave way to her annoyance.

"Beethoven's Piano Sonata Number 14…" A soft smile settled on Matthew's face and his gaze drifted into the distance. "I must have listened to Eliza play this piece at least a hundred times since we've been married — was the only thing that made little Jep fall asleep at night shortly after his arrival."

"It's…beautiful," Lou said softly as she listened to the solemn tune. "I never knew Eliza could play the piano."

"Her music is one of the many things that made me fall in love with her." He cast a side glance over at Lou, "But don't ever let her modesty fool you, Eliza was the first woman to ever be accepted into the prestigious Baltimore Conservatory."

"Hm. I don't know much about music, Mr. Townsend, but it sounds like quite the honor."

"It was." He paused, "Just a crying shame all the circumstances that prohibited her from ever seein' that dream come to fruition." He sighed, "At least it's a comfort knowing she still chooses to play, even in my absence." His tears threatened, but he blinked them back. "I don't ever recall this piece tuggin' at my heart so much as it does right now, all the sadness it alludes — almost like it is a prelude for what's to come."

"Amazin' the little things you miss when a person is no longer around to remind you of them."

"I couldn't have said that any better myself," Matthew said, clicking his tongue and snapping the reins. The wagon pulled away and the beauty of the Virginia countryside was now bathed in the silvery glow of the full moon.

"Eliza tells me that you and your husband ventured all the way from Nebraska Territory."

Lou nodded, and a smile creased her lips at the memory. "Traveled for six long weeks with both my husband and his harmonica." She turned her head towards the captain and grinned, "I think it's safe to say he'll never be accepted into any conservatory."

Matthew let out a laugh, "That bad, huh?"

"Oh, his playin' improved a great deal, don't get me wrong, but I'd be lyin' if I said that harmonica never got on my ever lastin' nerve."

"Six weeks?!" Matthew whistled. "Phew!"

"He's lucky I didn't toss it off the train or shove it down his throat!" she said, laughing as she looked off into the distance, her voice softening as she pondered, "But Lord, what I wouldn't give to hear him play it now, wrong notes and all."

"He must be somethin' special — followin' him all this way for a cause I suspect you don't even believe in."

Lou thought about all the battles they'd fought together during the express, "He's my best friend, Captain," she paused for a moment. "Come hell or high water, I'd go to the ends of the Earth for that man, even if that means I have to fight alongside him."

The two sat in contented silence as they turned down the long drive that led to Lou's home, both absorbed in their own thoughts and memories. The conversation until that point had been light, but the heaviness of the day's earlier events still loomed between them.

The wagon emerged from the copse of trees and came to a stop in front of the house. "I remember what this place looked like before you moved in, deck boards all battered — overgrowth everywhere. You've done a mighty fine job fixin' up the place in such a short amount of time."

"Always somethin' to be said for hard work. It's mighty fulfillin' havin' a place of your own, turnin' it into somethin' you can be proud of."

"Say! There's a lamp light on in that room up there." Matthew pointed to the upstairs window, before stepping off the buckboard. "Did you leave it on?"

Lou traced his gaze to her bedroom window and saw the familiar glow of the desk lamp burning bright.

Thomas.

She felt excitement bubble inside of her. Amid all the chaos of the day's events, she had forgotten all about her newfound friend. She was eager to hear from him, despite her exhaustion and pounding head.

"Mrs. McCloud?"

Lou felt Matthew's gaze on her cheek, suddenly remembering his question, "Oh, I …I guess I did," she said, taking his hand as she stepped off the wagon.

"You know, one lick from that curtain, and your house will be as good as gone."

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing I didn't leave that window open, isn't it, Mr. Townsend?" The snide remark slid out of her mouth without thought, and she moved to the back of the wagon to unhitch her horse.

"Allow me." He said, reaching to take the reins from her grasp.

"I can …"

"I know you can, Mrs. McCloud, but let me." His eyes pleaded with her until she relinquished the straps, "Thank you," he said with a nod, the satisfaction flashing across his face. "And besides, that ain't why I'm doin' it."

Lou's brow creased together as Matthew's eyes surveyed the property. "We've found some low-life deserters hidin' out at a farm not too far from here, I want to survey the outbuildings to make sure they ain't stowed away here." He said, walking off in the direction of the barn before Lou had a chance to resist.

Fireflies blinked in the darkness and cicadas screeched their nightly sound as Lou waited for his return on the porch swing. The flames from the lanterns on the posts flickered, but the light of the full moon was sufficient enough. The night air was still and warm, but not too uncomfortable, and for the first time since her morning ride to Eliza's house, she allowed herself to exhale.

Minutes later, the even stride of footsteps were heard approaching the porch, the step's deck boards creaking as they gave way to Matthew's weight.

"I take it you didn't find anything?"

Matthew removed his hat, revealing dark wavy hair plastered against his head. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and shook his head, "No, but there is a large limb down from that oak tree on the other side of the barn. I'll send Moses over tomorrow to cut it up for you." He added, "Won't supply you with a lot of firewood, but it burns all the same."

"I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Townsend, but I won't have your slaves doin' my work for me."

"No, I don't suppose you would." He shook his head.

Lou tried to get a word in, but Matthew interrupted, "But before you get all high and mighty on me again, you should know that Moses ain't a slave, not anymore anyway — neither is Ruthie. Both were given their papers by Eliza's daddy a long time ago. Take my advice and accept the help when it's offered, Mrs. McCloud. The longer this war goes on, the harder it's gonna be in your condition."

"Still don't feel right havin' others do the work I'm capable of doin' myself." She said, crossing her arms over her mid-section as if to hide the inevitable.

Matthew's lips twitched, though he seemed to fight off a full-fledged grin, "And here I thought Eliza was stubborn! I think I just found her match."

Lou smiled, slow and amused, "Don't you have somewhere's to be, Captain?"

"I do." He stopped, looked down at his feet, and swallowed hard. "But there's something I need to ask of you before I …"

"Look," She interrupted, eager to get the prolonged conversation out of the way. "I know you're probably wantin' an apology for what happened out in the field today, but I…"

Matthew held up a hand to stop her. "I'd never ask anyone to apologize for fighting for what they believe in, it shows great integrity — no matter what side of the fence you're on." He continued, "Even though you interrupted the flow of business and put me in a rather peculiar predicament of having to find three new slave hands before tomorrow, I'm not here to reprimand you. The fact of the matter is, you impressed me with how you handled yourself, you're strong and have a keen sense of intuition, which can be very beneficial in these times we live in."

"What is it then?"

Matthew removed his gloves, taking an envelope from his breast pocket. He exhaled, willing the tension to release in his shoulders and neck, "When I joined this outfit over a year ago, most everyone, myself included, believed this war was only going to last a few weeks at most. But the longer it lingers…" His voice trailed and then he cleared his throat. "In the event that I do not make it out of this war alive, will you see to it that Eliza gets this?" His dark eyes softly pleaded as he placed the envelope into her grasp, cupping his hands around hers. "Please. It's important to me."

"Oh, I…I couldn't…"

"Please." He insisted.

Lou paused, seeming to measure her next words. "I'll do it, Captain. But with one condition."

Matthew's hands released from hers and his body sagged with relief. "Anything."

"When you go home to Eliza tonight, spend every remaining minute you have together showin' her what she means to you — whisper in her ear everything you need her to hear, because that, Captain, is the memory that will forever be branded in her mind. That is the memory she'll carry in her soul and cling to in your absence. This letter I hold here in my hand will only serve as the reminder she'll never have those things with you again."

Matthew looked down at his boots and gave a gentle nod before placing his hat back on his head, and with it, concealing the deep, sad crease between his eyes. "It's late. You've had an eventful day and I'm sure you're eager to take your rest."

Lou nodded and as Matthew turned to step off the porch, she reached out to grab his sleeve. "I just realized, I never thanked you for savin' my life today."

Matthew turned, his face remained shadowed by the brim of the hat. "It was a life worth saving." He squeezed her hand one last time and then walked over to the wagon.

"Oh! And Captain…," she called out. "If you happen to run into a sandy-haired gent out there whose harmonica playin' leaves much to be desired, could you tell him his wife would appreciate hearin' a word from him? I have some important news to tell him and I haven't an idea of where to send correspondence to. He answers to the name..."

"Let me guess…McCloud." A sly grin crept to Matthew's face. "I'll do it, but with one condition."

Lou's brow raised, "And what's that?"

"Don't ever lose that feistiness of yours. I don't have to know your husband to know that's what made him fall in love with you."

With the slap of the reins, the horses pulled the wagon away.

Lou leaned her head against the porch post, watching as he disappeared into the thickness of the night.

"Ride safe, Captain."