“Perhaps a toast as well.” Suzette laughed and led Tamsyn through the narrow alley between their homes. Suzette’s own gardens were bare in comparison to the Steele garden. “Mrs. Steele offered to help me make it beautiful but I find that I don’t have the time to care for the flowers.”
“You mix the perfumes?” Tamsyn followed Suzette into the kitchen where a cook stirred the fires in the oven.
“
Oui
.” Suzette dropped her basket and motioned to a small table in the corner. “Sit, I’ll cut off bread and grab
le café
.”
Tamsyn dropped her bag by her feet and sat.
“So you met
Mademoiselle
Amory, I take it?” Suzette set a cup of coffee in front of Tamsyn. The steam swirled up under her nose. She kept her eyes on the cup in front of her and nodded.
“How did you come to know the Steeles?” Tamsyn asked in an attempt to turn the conversation from her own misery.
Suzette smiled. “I was a mail order bride.
Monsieur
Barlow brought me here from Canada just before the start of the war. I move in here, with him, and met the Steele family.”
“Mrs. Steele said you were a widow,” Tamsyn urged Suzette to go on.
“
Oui
, Monsieur Barlow felt his talents were best served by joining the fight. He died a few weeks after enlisting.”
“I’m so sorry.” Tamsyn offered. “Why did you stay here?”
Suzette’s laughter startled her. “My family sold me, they would not wish to have me back.” Suzette sipped her coffee. “I am better here. The children are better here. I have a home, friends.”
“Robert?” Tamsyn broached the topic.
“
Pardon
?”
“Robert seems taken by you.”
A dark crimson blush spread across Suzette’s face. Suzette had lived a full life already and was still very young. “Mr. Robert is very kind.” Suzette spread butter onto her bread. “But it would never work. He is…how do you say it again, Mrs. Larne?” she called to the cook.
“High class,” the woman called over her shoulder.
“
Oui
, high class,” Suzette agreed. “I am not.” She waved the conversation aside. “
Mademoiselle
Amory is a piece of work,
non
?”
“Did everyone know he was betrothed to her?” she asked while Suzette sipped from her own cup. “Except me, I mean?”
Suzette remained silent.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Tamsyn reached for a slice of bread.
“Frances Amory has been chasing after James Steele for a decade.” Mrs. Larne bustled about the kitchen. “The Amorys have been pushing for this wedding for almost as long. Frances weaseled a proposal out of James before the war started.”
“Mrs. Larne, do go on,” Suzette urged.
Mrs. Larne laughed and shrugged. “Her family lost most of their money about ten years ago, before you came here, Suzie. She tried to get him to marry her before he left.”
“What happened?” Suzette leaned forward.
“He refused. It was the talk of the town. How romantic it was. How he refused to marry her because he didn’t want to leave her a widow if he died.”
“I remember that.” Suzette nodded. “It was right after I came here. Frances swore to wait on him and cried if he died there would be no other for her.”
“So she loves him?” Tamsyn asked.
The cook and Suzette both huffed in unison.
“So, will you give up on Robert?” Tamsyn asked. “What you could have with him?”
“Will you give up on James?” Suzette asked.
Tamsyn thought carefully before she answered, “I’ve played the role of the ‘other woman’ once already in my life. I won’t do it again.”
Surprise crossed Suzette’s face. The same look had crossed her mother’s face the night she told her she was pregnant with a married man’s child.
“Thank you for the tea and toast. If you’d be so kind, point me in the direction of the train station and I’ll be on my way.”
“Left when you leave the house. Right at the first street you come to. You can’t miss it.”
Suzette offered Tamsyn a tight hug. Tamsyn left the house by the kitchen and hurried up the tight alley.
“He will forget all about you.”
She spotted Hester’s dark clad form near the front of the house. Clenching her jaw, she hurried onto the street and away from Hester.
Focusing on making her way to the Boston train station occupied her thoughts. Suzette’s directions were simple enough but there weren’t many others out in the city so soon after the sun came up. It made her nervous. Several times Tamsyn had been certain she heard footsteps close behind her. She would turn to find the street empty.
The call window slid open just as she walked up carrying her bag.
“Hello.” She smiled at the man behind the window. “How much for a ticket to Johnson City, Tennessee?”
“Seven dollars.”
She frowned. She didn’t have enough.
“I’ll purchase the ticket for the lady.”
Tamsyn stiffened.
“What times does her train leave?” the familiar voice asked. He handed the paper money to the clerk.
She swallowed hard.
“Forty minutes.” The clerk passed the ticket through the window. “She can board in ten.”
“Thank you.” He touched her back and urged her away from the window.
“What are you doing here?”
They sat on a bench next to the window.
“You are not an easy woman to follow.” George narrowed his eyes and dropped, exhausted next to her.
“Why are you following me?” She set her bag between her feet.
“Abigail asked me to make sure you were safe.”
“How did she know…”
“You were very loud this morning.” He lifted a dark eyebrow and grinned.
Tamsyn dropped her head with embarrassment.
“I asked her to marry me last night.” His eyes danced with happiness.
“Oh, George, that’s wonderful. Please tell Abigail how happy I am for her.”
“I’d rather you tell her yourself.”
“I can’t stay, George.”
“I know. Hell, I bought the ticket so you could leave.” George leaned toward her and sighed. “He didn’t think Frances would wait. But he screwed up. He should have told you.”
“I don’t want him to get into trouble with General Grant. Will you go with him, if he’s called in, and explain?” She recalled the promise James made.
“What are you talking about?”
“General Grant made James responsible for me. He was afraid I was more involved with my husband’s spying than I let on.”
George laughed out loud. “Grant released him from that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “James told me if I didn’t come to Boston willingly he would place me under arrest.”
George grimaced. “He has a lot of apologizing to do. When he comes for you, make him beg.”
“He won’t come.” She took a shaky breath.
The conductor called for ticket holders to board the train and she shifted to take her bag.
George stood with her.
“I need to send a telegram,” she remembered. “Where should I do that?”
“I can take care of it. Where should I send it?”
“My brother, Davis Hart. In Johnson City, Tennessee.”
“I’ll send it before the train leaves.”
“Why did you buy the ticket?”
“James will want to know where to find you. Because he will come after you.” George nodded to the conductor and walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
Sunday, April 30, 1865
Johnson City, Tennessee
She stepped onto the platform. The bright sunshine warmed her face. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“Tamsyn?” Davis appeared, winding through the crowd. He’d mastered the use of his peg and moved with speed to where she stood. He opened his arms and she collapsed against him.
“The damned Yank broke your heart, Tam, I’m so sorry. We’ll be home by dark.”
“I wasn’t sure anyone would get the message.” She cried against his shoulder. He held her until she gathered her composure.
He smiled down at her. “He sent word when the telegraph came through. I bribed the man at the telegraph office not to hold the message until the end of the day.”
She laughed at her brother’s foresight despite her sadness. “How’s Elizabeth? She didn’t want to come with you?”
“Little Bit wanted to make something special for you. She stayed with Ma.”
She cringed.
Little Bit.
“Sorry, Tam.” He led her to the wagon just outside the train station. Tossing her bag into the back he helped her climb onto the seat.
She looked ahead to the mountains. The wagon jerked to a start and peace washed over her. She’d not been home in five years.
Home.
She soaked in the colors. The landscape bloomed, living in bright greens, blues, purples. She closed her eyes and breathed the scent of new growth around her.
This is where I belong.
“Lavinia has been by every day, asking if you’ve sent word.”
Sweet Lavinia.
“How is she?” she asked.
They bumped higher along the rough mountain road and she shivered with the sudden drop in temperature. Davis laughed and pulled a blanket from the back of the wagon. “She finally got her claws into Aaron.”
“Really?” Tamsyn giggled. “So, Lavinia is my sister-in-law now?”
“Yup.” He grinned. “She was widowed twice before Aaron made his way home from the war. She’s expecting any day now.”
“Mama happy about it?”
“Happier than a squirrel in an acorn bucket. Everyone else left for Missouri right before I made it back. I’m getting married soon too.”
The horses pulled into the last stretch of road before the house would come into view.
Tamsyn leaned over and stared at her brother. “Who?”
“Do you remember the soldier, Knowles?” he asked.
She nodded, biting back a smile.
“Her name is Vera,” Davis blurted.
“I’m happy for you, Davis.”
“Whoa.” Davis pulled the reins to stop the horse in front of the house.
Tamsyn stared. Nothing really had changed.
The whitewashed two-story farmhouse looked the same as it had the day she’d pulled away in a similar wagon with Ben. Her oak tree had spread out, shading the side of the house where her room had been, and a wraparound porch where she had played for hours as a little girl.
It was home and she felt a sense of relief about being there.
“Elizabeth found where you carved your initials into the tree.” Davis winked.
Davis hopped from the wagon and turned to help her down. Before letting go he kissed her on the top of the head. “Glad to have you home, sis.”
“She’s here!” The front door slammed and footsteps raced across the porch. “Mama!” Elizabeth leapt from the side of the porch and into her mother’s waiting arms. Tiny arms encircled her neck.
Tamsyn buried her face into Elizabeth’s hair and dropped to the ground.
Sobs erupted from somewhere deep inside her. She tried to stop. Each deep breath brought more tears. She rocked and cried, holding her daughter.
“Mama,” Elizabeth whispered, pulling her head back to look up. “I spent all day in the kitchen with Gram. We made cookies! Oh, Mama, I missed you so much. I told my teacher you would be home soon, but I don’t think she believed me. She’s not very nice. But Gram says she’s a good teacher. And she has red hair, just like me.”
Tamsyn giggled.
“Come on, Elizabeth, let your poor Mama stand up.” Davis bent and pulled Elizabeth off, tossing her up onto his shoulders. “Want to help me with the horses?”
“Oh, yes! Mama, I’ll be right back! Uncle is going to let me help with the horses!”
“Vera went home about an hour ago,” Mrs. Hart said softly to her son. “She’s exhausted, Davis. Try and convince her to take it easy tomorrow?”
Tamsyn sucked in a breath and pulled herself to her feet. She hadn’t heard her mother come out.
“Yes, ma’am.” Davis nodded. He put Elizabeth onto the back of the horse and climbed back into the wagon, clicking the horse into moving again. Elizabeth’s nonstop chattering faded across the yard with Davis.
An arm slipped around Tamsyn’s waist. “Come inside. Lavinia and Elizabeth helped me bake some wonderful gingerbread cookies.” Unshed tears sparkled in her mother’s eyes. “Are they still your favorite?”
Tamsyn smiled and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her mother led her up the steps and into the house. The scent of fresh baked cookies guided them into the kitchen.
“You certainly have a little chatterbox, Tam.” Lavinia grinned up from her seat in the kitchen.
Tamsyn left her mother’s side and hugged Lavinia.
“The more I baked, the more the girl talked. She plum wore me out!” Betsey Hart poured another cup of tea and pressed it into Tamsyn’s hands.
A tear escaped down Tamsyn’s cheek. “Thank you, for taking such good care of her.”
“Shush, now. You’re home now. When Davis said you were under house arrest with that Yankee general…” She shook her head. “Well, never mind.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Tamsyn whispered and sipped the hot tea.
“Don’t stay up too late, girls.” She slipped out of the kitchen.
Lavinia remained silent until the door closed upstairs. Then she added another cookie to Tamsyn’s plate. “You are too skinny.”
Tamsyn couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s only because you’re so big.” Tamsyn rubbed Lavinia’s swollen belly. The baby inside promptly kicked her hand.
“You and Aaron.” Tamsyn smiled and shook her head. Aaron was the shyest of the Hart boys. Lavinia grinned. “I’m glad,” Tamsyn added. “You always did fit into this family.”
Lavinia smiled and poured more tea into Tamsyn’s cup. “It’s chamomile. It will help you sleep.” Lavinia added another cookie to Tamsyn’s plate and eased back into the wooden kitchen chair. “Davis said the Yankee was sweet on you.”
“Sweet on me. Sweet on the fiancée who’d been waiting on him for the last five years. Who knows who else,” Tamsyn mumbled. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.