At Shiloh
by Paul Westwood
Copyright 2011 Paul Westwood
Published at Smashwords
Book cover source is from a
April 26, 1862 Harper’s Weekly illustration
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Chapter 1
The train slowed and chugged noisily up the hill. As it approached an incline, it puffed out thick clouds of black smoke which scattered with the cold evening wind. The train was long, pulling several passenger and freight cars towards the Union Army of West Tennessee. A thin mist of March rain fell, splattering the closed windows. A few miserable soldiers with rifles cradled in their laps sat on top of the cars, shivering under wool blankets
The expressman had the door of his car ajar and lit a cigar. He studied the rolling hills dotted with budding trees and thick underbrush. He had heard that Tennessee could be dangerous since guerilla fighters had already attacked several trains along this route. This time, he assured himself, there was nothing to worry about, since the train was well-guarded by over four dozen Union soldiers. Looking back into the car, he saw the strongbox that was being used by his fellow expressman as a footrest. He thought to himself that there was enough gold there to buy off the entire Secesh army. The other man was reading a newspaper with a trail of cigar smoke rising from behind the sheaves of paper. As the train reached the crest of the hill, the expressman flicked his cigar out the door and craned his neck towards the front of the train. The engine disappeared over the hill, and the cars began to gather speed as they were pulled over the incline.
Suddenly the engine blew out a long warning whistle. The brakes were then applied hard enough to cause the expressman to slam the side of his head roughly against the frame of the door. The guards on top of the train were pitched forward; some even slipped between the cars to be cut to ribbons by the turning iron wheels. With a grinding crash, the engine suddenly left the tracks and toppled sideways on the embankment, carrying the heavily loaded cars with it.
As the train derailed, Major Gardner watched happily through his field glasses. What he saw did not surprise him, since an hour earlier, this part of the iron rails had been removed by his men. It was a spectacular sight to see the bent iron and cracking of wood as the train rolled on its side like some mythical, wounded beast. Steam billowed from the engine, hiding the broken cars with a cloudy mist. The train had now stopped its death throes, and the cries of the wounded could be heard within the twisted wreckage.
Gardner raised his arm and motioned his small band of men to move forward. It was a ragged bunch of soldiers that crawled out of the underbrush. They looked more like scarecrows than soldiers, but they held their pistols with expert hands. “Remember, don’t bother to shoot the wounded unless they start making trouble,” he called out. “And only kill the rest of the blue-bellied bastards if they shoot back.” His two dozen soldiers then began rushing towards the wrecked train, shouting the rebel yell at the top of their lungs.
A few dazed Union soldiers crawled out of the damaged cars with their rifles at the ready. They tried to put up a feeble defense, but they were quickly cut down by a barrage of bullets. The remaining survivors soon raised their hands in surrender.
The major gave another order. “Sergeant Raines, tell your men I want those Union boys rounded up and put under guard.” A shabbily dressed man in a dirty grey coat gave him a lazy salute and began shouting orders at the men. Gardner grimaced and thought it was time to get some of his boys cleaned up. But even though they looked like tramps, he knew they were the best fighters in the world. Nonetheless, he still wished for a bit more spit and polish. A little pride would have gone a long way in making these country boys even better fighters. He shrugged those thoughts away and made his way towards the destroyed train.
His soldiers were already looting the broken cases strewn from the wrecked cars - stealing shoes, coats and as much food and drink as they could carry. He was happy to note that Raines had pushed enough men away from the throng to stand guard over the remaining Union soldiers who had the strength to crawl clear of the wreckage.
To his delight, the express car was still standing upright. Its walls were twisted at an angle, showing a crack of splintered wood that went the length of the body. It had somehow survived destruction relatively intact, leaving the side door slightly open. As Gardner cautiously approached, the barrel of a shotgun slid out from the door and pointed in his direction.
“Don’t shoot,” the major cried out before he dove to the right. His shin painfully struck a rock, sending a burst of pain through his leg. He said through gritted teeth, “There’s no reason to die for your cargo.” As he spoke, he pulled out his Le Mat Revolver and took aim.
An angry voice answered from the car and said, “I saw what you did to those boys – you shot them in cold blood.”
“Now hold on there,” Gardner shouted. He saw Raines coming forward and signaled for him to stop. “We had no choice in the matter.”
“Well, I’m not coming out until you leave,” the voice answered back. The shotgun still pointed at the major with a threatening manner.
Sliding his pistol back into his holder, Gardner took a step back with arms held wide since he did not want the expressman to panic and take a shot. Once he got next to his sergeant, he said in a low voice, “I want that bastard out of there. Round up some men and take care of him.”
Raines nodded, a hard smile set on his face. He walked back to the soldiers who were still busy looting what they could. He then began to push some of his least favorite soldiers into line. When he had a half-dozen men, he said, “I need some volunteers to take care of that guard back there. Any takers?”
No one stepped forward. “Well, boys,” Gardner said angrily, “it’s time to earn your keep with this outfit. If there are any slackers, I’ll be sure to shoot you down where you stand. Now I need that guard out of there, so we can get the gold and get out of here!”
Upon hearing the word gold, the drawn faces of the six soldiers brightened in anticipation. Pistols were now drawn eagerly.
The sergeant added, “You heard what I said. Now move it!”
The men scrambled towards the broken express car and began to fire in unison at the battered wood. A shotgun blast answered back, making one of the guerillas fall to the broken ground like a rag doll. Another hurried blast of buckshot ricocheted off the stony ground, causing a few pellets to strike an unlucky man in the leg. He went down on his knees but continued to fire back.
The crescendo of pistol fire rose and fell as men began the process of reloading - paper cartridges were bit off and stuffed into the open chambers. Then a measured amount of black powder, a lead ball, and wad were dropped into the cylinders. A short ramrod was squeezed into the barrel, pushing the ball tight against the powder charge. A thin line of grease was placed on the cylinders to stop chain-fires - where the firing of one cylinder could spark the others. Such an explosion could blow a man’s hand off if he wasn’t careful. Firing caps were then hurriedly placed in front of the loaded chambers. Once the hammer dropped on the cylinder, it would fire the cap, ignite the gunpowder and expel the lead ball from the barrel. It was a slow, laborious process, but an experienced man could reload his pistol in less than a minute.
Gardner watched as the stream of bullets tore into the wood. Black powder smoke from all the firing rose high in the misty air. He then nodded towards Raines who started to wave his hands at his men, signaling them to stop the assault.
“Stop firing, stop firing!” he shouted. The men grudgingly stopped peppering the express car with lead.
A faint voice could be heard coming from the gap of the door. “I surrender – stop shooting.”
The sergeant ran towards the car and pulled the door back. There lay the expressman, lying on the floor with his shotgun lying underneath him. A puddle of the wounded man's blood pooled on the wooden floor. He had been shot in his right arm and in the shoulder. He began to moan. Raines grabbed him by the collar and pulled the wounded man off of the car. The expressman landed heavily on the ground with a grunt and rolled over on his stomach, gasping in pain.
With a tug to his holster, Gardner pulled out his Le Mat and flipped the lever at the end of the hammer. This switched the firing mechanism from the cylinders of the revolver to the single sixteen gauge smoothbore barrel loaded with shot. He pointed it at the expressman and said sternly, “You made a mistake trying to fight us off.”
The wounded man began to sob in a panic and tried to feebly crawl away. The guerilla soldiers stepped back as the major brought up his pistol and fired. The single blast of buckshot tore open the man’s head, leaving a ragged hole. With a final violent jerk, the expressman was dead.
Facing his men, Gardner said, “Now let that be a lesson to every one of you. If you listen to me, you’ll get through this was alive. Raines, get that strongbox out and opened.”
The sergeant nodded and motioned to his men. They crowded aboard the damaged car. Inside was an already dead expressman, his neck bent at an impossible angle. The battered body was sprawled on top of an iron-edged strongbox. Raines rolled the corpse off. The rebels then worked together and soon pulled the heavy strongbox out into the open, where it landed heavily on the rocky surface. Searching through the pockets of the dead expressman, Raines soon found the key and hurried over to open the iron box. With Gardner waiting impatiently, the sergeant fitted the key to the lock and opened the heavy lid.
The major smiled when he saw the stacked gunny sacks inside. With shaking hands, he took the closest sack, untied the top and poured the contents out. The twenty dollar gold coins fell heavily into his hand. The soldiers around him began to murmur excitedly. This was worth the trouble of cutting the rail line, Gardner thought. This was worth the trouble since the Federal government would miss this gold and try by any means to retrieve it. Everything was going to plan.
Raines smiled at his commanding officer and said, “You were right about them carrying the gold, sir. The boys will be happy.”
Gardner nodded and said, “Get this packed away. We will be moving out as soon as you are ready.”
“What about the prisoners, sir?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they are taken care of.” He looked over his soldiers who were greedily eying the gold-packed strongbox. He said to them, “Now just a little warning, gentlemen, this gold is for Jefferson Davis and the Confederacy. Don’t get any ideas about taking some for yourself.” He gave them a cold smile and paused before adding, “I know the amount of this down to the last dollar. If any of it goes missing, I’ll have the whole lot of you strung up. I’m sure Sergeant Raines here would gladly assist me in the exercise.” He let the words seep in and a look of dismay came across their faces. He continued. “So it’s your job to keep an eye on your companions to make sure none of it goes missing. Understand? But don't worry, once we deliver this gold, we'll all be heroes.”
There was a flurry of agreement as men nodded and began warily eying their neighbors.
Gardner knew the men were all robbers at heart, but they also knew that he was a man of his word and would make good his threat. “Sergeant, carry on.”
Raines saluted and began pulling the gold-laden bags out of the strongbox. He began handing two of them to each soldier who carefully knotted the ends together. In this manner the gold was to be split up and carried by each man on the journey back to camp.
Walking past his guards, Gardner went to where the prisoners were being kept. There were some twenty of them, some who were heavily bruised from their unexpected ride off the rails. They looked at him with hatred in their eyes. The low sound of moans could be heard from the nearby wrecked passenger cars.
Eying them with distaste, Gardner said, “We have come for what we wanted. Now I suggest you start walking back, because we don’t want you in Tennessee anymore.”
The prisoners stood to make their leave, but one asked, “What about them? What are you going to do with our wounded friends?”
“They will be taken care off,” Gardner replied stoically.
With those words, the prisoners began to shuffle slowly down the line as the rain continued to fall. The major caught the eye of one of his men and gave him a nod. The man nodded and lifted his rifle to fire. With the squeeze of the trigger, the shot struck one of the prisoners in the back. The rest of the guerillas joined in and opened fire on the bedraggled group. The remaining Unions soldiers began to run and a few of the guerillas gave chase, hooting and hollering at the easy prey.
“Raines!” Gardner called out. He waited impatiently for the harried sergeant to run up.
“We’re ready to go, sir. The gold has been dispersed to the men and they are ready to move.”
“Set fire to the cars.”
“Sir?” Raines looked over the cars and shook his head. The sound of gunfire began to abate as the last of the prisoners had been hunted down.
“I gave you an order, sergeant. I want those Union boys to fear us. I want them to curse our names and have every man ride against us. The more men we draw to us, the less they have to fight General Johnston. Now go to it.”
“But those men are wounded.”
“If you don’t follow my orders, then I’ll find someone else who will.”
“Very well, sir, I will see that it is done.” Raines face looked gray as he ordered a few of his men to gather some broken oil lanterns. It took some pushing and threats, but the soldiers eventually complied. Though it was raining lightly, the wooden cars were soon ablaze. The panicked shouts of the wounded inside rose in tempo as the smoke rolled higher in the cloud-choked sky.
With a shout and wave, the guerilla soldiers were soon running back to their mounts hidden deep in the trees of the forest. There they saddled up. They left, following a grinning Major Gardner. A cloud of smoke hung heavily behind them as the rain misted on the mud-soaked trail. He was happy to strike a blow against the hated Federals. Soon his name would be known throughout the land. The north would revile his name while in the south he would be known forever as a hero.
Chapter 2
Leaning against the scarred wooden bar, the detective looked down at his empty glass and shoved it towards the bartender. Jack felt like hell, but he didn’t give a damn since it was the first time that he had gotten out of his bedroom for quite a spell. Lately fever had been rampaging through the crowded town, brought by the large encampments of soldiers who were ordered to defend the city from rebel encroachment. He had spent the past several days confined to bed, retching in a chamber pot, and having to endure the help of his partner. Ezra was the type who seemed to never get sick. That bothered Jack more than anything else.
The saloon only had a few customers, so Jack’s glass was quickly filled with whiskey. Though this was a squalid place, it had the good fortune of only being a few staggered steps from the office. He was well known here for his daily business. He eyed the few lounging prostitutes with an appraising eye. None of the girls came to spend time with him, but instead stayed talking amongst themselves. The whores here were merely waiting for the afternoon to pass before the evening trade began. At this moment he was not was interested in sleeping with any of them, but he recognized that he must be feeling better if he could even think of sex.
The city of Washington was currently gripped with impatience. The war was going badly for the North and the residents had become resigned to the fact that things were bound to get worse before they got better. Last summer, the Army of the Potomac had been defeated at Bull Run and had spent the rest of the year hunkered down, licking its wounds. The army had since been reorganized by General McClellan who had recently sailed them to the Virginia Peninsula, leaving just a token force behind to defend Washington. McClellan was planning to sweep down the peninsula and strike right into Richmond. Once Richmond was captured, surely the war would finally be finished.
The front door swung open, letting in some of the chilly March air. Spring was only a few weeks away, but winter still had a weak hold on Washington. With a little curiosity, the detective turned to see who had just entered. He was taken with surprise to see Major Calvin Hall, who was looking about the dingy barroom with disgust. Two prostitutes straightened up from their drinks and flashed him a smile. This was hardly unexpected, since the major was a well-dressed man who positively oozed wealth. Jack waved him over.
Jack smiled to himself, remembering the Battle of Bull Run where he had followed Hall up a hill against the entrenched Rebels. The major’s regiment had bravely followed orders, only to be decimated by the firepower of the defenders. He also knew that Hall worked directly for the War Department, taking care of special issues that other officers did not care to handle.
Ignoring the entreaties of the women with a shake of his head, Hall strode over and shook hands with Jack. Looking him over, the major said, “I was just over at your office. Ezra told me that you would be here, nursing a drink. From what he said, you would still be in bad shape with the flu. But you really don’t look that poorly to me.”
Motioning to his glass, Jack said, “I just needed a little liquid refreshment to get my strength back. I haven’t had a drink for over a week now. Until now, I’ve been too ill to keep anything down.
Hall nodded and said, “Everyone in town has been taken sick by this damned fever. I’ve been lucky enough to be out of the city on business.”
“Would you care to join me for a drink?” Jack asked and lifted his glass up for another sip.
Hall looked suspiciously at the glass. He hesitantly said, “Is the whiskey worth the effort of drinking?”
The detective laughed. He replied, “Trust me, I’ve had worse. But don’t let the looks of the place fool you. It’s really not that bad of a place to have a drink on a quiet afternoon.” Jack knew that for all of Hall’s snootiness, he enjoyed drinking like anyone else.
“If you say so,” Hall said resignedly.
Motioning to the bartender, Jack ordered a whiskey for the major.
He looked the glass over before taking a tentative sip. Hall smacked his lips and said, “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
“I must say it’s good to see you again, Major.”
“I should have stopped by sooner, but I’ve been a little busy. You seem to have recovered well from your recent wounds.” Hall was mentioning the gunshot the detective had received while trying to stop a crazed soldier. It had been a near thing, and Jack was lucky to be alive.
“I’m not doing that bad, but business could be better. The winter months are always a little slow, even with a war going on.”
“Don’t worry, things are about to heat up. But I don’t understand how you can live on your sporadic source of income. Do you have some money tucked away in that safe of yours?”
Letting out a chuckle, Jack replied, “Hardly, but we get by on the scraps that come our way. Nonetheless, it is still better than honest work. But now I’m curious, is this a social call or did you have some other business in mind?”
Hall set the glass down on the bar and laughed. “You know me too well, Mister Blackwood. But before I tell you what I came to see you about, I just wanted to thank you for coming with me there at Bull Run. That was a nasty bit of work trying to take that damned hill, but at least we came out of it in one piece. If given the chance, I wouldn’t mind giving it another crack.”
“It was a near thing.” Jack agreed. He then lit a cheap cigar and offered one to the major, who shook his head.
“I’ve got my own here.” He reached into his coat pocket and lit a slender cigar. The fine smell of Virginian tobacco drifted in the air. “Luckily I can still get these from the blockade runners.”
“You were saying,” Jack said impatiently. Hall had the unnerving habit of taking his time of getting to the point.
“I know you’re a man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty so let me get to the crux of the matter.”
“Finally,” Jack mumbled.
Ignoring him, the major continued on, “I’ve come to you to offer a job working for me.”
“What kind of job?” Jack asked suspiciously. He didn’t care to work for the government as a spy – traipsing about the countryside, digging up information that would be filed away and never used.
Looking about the nearly empty saloon, Hall lowered his voice and asked with a whisper, “Is this place safe to talk?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s better than my office since we haven’t finished our drinks yet. Go ahead and talk, no one is listening to us except those whores waiting for your business.”
Hall laughed. “Very good, Jack, I won’t try to be overly secretive. But word has a way of getting around Washington, and the rebels always seem to know our next move. McClellan is already running into trouble at the Virginian Peninsula, and the War Department is at its wits end trying to deal with every bushwhacker from here to Tennessee. There is one in particular that is causing us all sorts of trouble.”
“Problems with a guerilla soldier?” Jack said thoughtfully as he studied his friend’s face. “Who is it?”
Hall couldn’t help lowering his voice even further. He spoke in low, conspiratorial tones. “That’s the embarrassing part. It’s a Virginian named Richard Gardner. Just two months ago, he used to command a Union Calvary regiment, but the major has since gone to the other side. He knows too much and is a constant thorn in our side. Gardner also knows the weakness of every commander and the routes we take to supply the Union army in Tennessee. He is now leading a group of robbers who are daily raiding our supply routes. And just the other day he derailed a train and stole a large amount of gold.”
“And what exactly do you expect me to do?” Jack asked bluntly, though the mention of the word gold certainly piqued his interest.
“Well, you see he did more than rob the train. Two of our soldiers managed to escape and told us what happened. It seems that after Gardner removed the gold, he ordered the massacre of the prisoners and then started the destroyed train on fire. There were wounded men trapped inside who were burned to death.”
Jack made a face. “So he’s a bastard to boot.”
“The Secretary of War wants Gardner back to be put on trial for treason. The Secretary also wants that damned gold back. It was meant for General Grant to use to pay for supplies for the Army of the Tennessee. We’re talking over one-hundred thousand dollars here. The loss has been terrible for their morale.”
“Getting Gardner and that gold would be a hard job to do.” Jack thought of the country that would have to be traveled through while guarding an unwilling prisoner. It would take a small army to locate the guerilla camp and capture a single man among many.
“That’s why I thought of you. I offered up your name in the last meeting I had concerning this little matter. There was an immediate interest after I told them of your exploits leading that troop of cavalry at Bull Run behind enemy lines. You are a resourceful man, and we need someone like that for this type of situation.”
Jack studied his cigar butt before dropping it and grinding it out with his boot. “How much?” he suddenly asked.
“How much what?” Hall asked, clearly perplexed.
“Money. How much money am I going to get? I’m going to need a few men and horses to get there in one piece. There is no guarantee I could get close enough to even take him without some shooting involved. I will be in his country, and his scouts will know every inch of the area. But for the right kind of pay, I could make an attempt to capture him. But it’s going to take plenty of money to convince a few bounty hunters to take that kind of risk.”
Holding up his hand, Hall said, “Please, Jack, say no more. That’s not what I had in mind at all. We want Gardner back in one piece. If we could capture him using troops, we would have already tried that method. But as you said, they know the territory better than we do. I must admit that some of the hotter heads at the War Department wanted to rush in and kill the whole lot of them. But I had another idea. I managed to convince them that there was a better way to get Gardner and the gold back.”
Jack motioned for the bartender to bring another round of drinks.
“Are you sure you can afford it?” Hall asked after the bartender refilled the glasses.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be rich by the time I’m through working for you. Now you had better tell me of this plan of yours. At this rate, I’m not sure I can handle another drink.”
Hall smiled faintly and said, “Two years before the war, my niece, Rose, got married to some trader by the name of John Wallace. I’m afraid to say that my younger brother was never good with finances and couldn’t offer much of a dowry for her. So she had to take whatever man came along. This Wallace then moved down to Tennessee taking Rose with him. They bought a house in the town of Stanton and started a business selling guns. Everything seemed to go well for them until this damn war broke out. It seems that her husband got involved with the wrong bunch of people.”
Jack studied the bottom of his glass and said “Gardner?”
“Correct. The Union isn’t just fighting armies. There’s also men willing to fight for the Confederate cause but don’t bother to wear the uniform. Major Gardner leads such men. The newspapers are filled with stories of these bastard guerilla soldiers. Since Wallace was a gunsmith, he provided arms for these bushwhackers. Against Rose’s protests, he went and joined up with them. Apparently he wasn’t much of a horseman and ended up getting killed in a raid.”
“You seem to know quite a lot about the situation down there,” Jack said. “And what happened to your cousin Rose after all this?”
“Luckily I’ve still managed to keep in contact with my niece. Through letters, she tells me that Major Gardner has setup a camp outside her town. With her husband’s death, she has been treated with great respect by the rebels, though I suspect it’s her stores of shot and gunpowder they are most interested in. I recently received a message from her that the major has the gold hidden there.”
“Are you sure she can be trusted?” Jack drained the glass in front of him and felt a little drunk. “She could be used for feeding you false information.”
“She is a good girl that I’ve known since I was just a lad. If anything, Rose hates the guerillas and blames them for the death of her husband. She has ingratiated herself with Gardner, and he spends plenty of time with her.”
“That would be reason enough for me to suspect her even more,” Jack replied as he motioned for the bartender to fill up his glass once again.
“I trust her, Jack. She has given no false information yet, and she will be an important part of my plan.”
“Well, let me hear it. What do you propose to have me do?”
“You will pose as a cousin of hers named Nathaniel Hall. He is a real cousin of mine, and I can tell you enough of the family history to get by. Ten years ago, he went to California and hasn’t been seen since. He was always a wanderer, and we assumed that he ran into some type of trouble out there. He is just the type of person that you would like – a born troublemaker." Hall grinned at Jack and continued on. "You will go to Stanton as a trader of guns – we will provide these guns at our expense – who is interested in selling to the Confederate Army. You are to go to Stanton and stay there with my cousin. This will give you access to Major Gardner. Once you’ve found a way, you can take the major back with you along with that gold.”
“You make it sound easy, but it is a fool plan,” the detective said quietly.
“I beg your pardon?”
Jack retorted angrily. “How exactly am I supposed to haul an unwilling prisoner and enough gold to tempt any man? I’ll be a target for every bandit within two hundred miles. Plus Gardner’s men will be trying to catch up with me the entire way. The last time I’ve checked, no one has made a wagon that can move faster than a horse.”
The few bar patrons took notice of this outburst and started to watch the conversation with interest.
“Jack, keep your voice down,” Hall said smoothly. “I never said it would be easy. You can take Ezra with you. He can pose as your manservant. You are a resourceful man, which is the reason why I picked you. If you can’t get Gardner back to us, then I see no reason why he couldn’t meet up with an unfortunate accident. I know your methods, and I may not always approve of them, but they still serve their purpose.”
“Now you’re just trying to flatter me,” Jack said. But he was becoming interested in this matter. They hadn’t had a case for a few months, and he was beginning to feel restless. Perhaps it was just the remnants of his fever, but the impossible idea of stealing gold back from a bunch of robbers while kidnapping their leader had a certain appeal to it.
“There’s one more thing that may be of interest to you. When Gardner left our side, it was found that he was bribed to leave. A man gave the major shelter, and a way to escape. From what I was able to gather from my spies, Gardner was helped along by someone named Ethan Davis. You know him, don’t you?”
The mention of the name Davis brought back a series of bad memories. He was a kidnapper and blackmailer who had deserved no pity. It had been a near thing but in the past, Jack had bested the man. But he had been sure that this Rebel spy was dead and was surprised to hear that Davis was still alive. “I know him,” he finally admitted.
“By all accounts he was supposed to be dead by your hand, but word was getting around about a master spy named Davis. We would like to see him permanently removed.”
“As would I,” Jack agreed. “If I ever see him again, I’ll be sure that he is really dead this time.”
“Good, well that is settled then. My cousin Rose has already been told that someone posing as her cousin is coming to stay with her. She will give what assistance she can.”
“Let me ask you, Major, what else can you tell me about this cousin of yours? What kind of woman is she?”
Hall smiled with the confidence of a gambler about to win a large stake. He knew he had Jack hooked and sealed the deal by saying, “She was a beautiful girl even when she was young. When she got older, Rose broke every suitor’s heart when she decided to marry that fool Wallace. Word is that she has gotten even more beautiful with age – if you want to call twenty-six old.”
“I'll work for you,” Jack said with false resignation. “I’ll go down to Stanton and get that gold back. If I can’t capture Gardner, I’ll make sure he ends up with a bullet between the eyes.”
“Good man. Come by the War Department tomorrow morning, and I’ll see you are outfitted with money and the right equipment. Can you convince Ezra to come with you?”
“Perhaps. He has a little problem with a lady friend, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind getting out of town before her father stops by to discuss the matter.”
Hall laughed. “Good. I’m afraid I must leave you for now. Go home and get some rest until tomorrow.” The major slapped his friend’s back before leaving the barroom. The eyes of the whores followed him as he left. Two of them slipped out the door to tempt him further.
Beckoning the remaining prettiest girl to join him, Jack ordered another round of drinks for the two of them. He was feeling stronger already and was looking forward to leaving this city. He clumsily kissed the whore’s ear and gave her a friendly squeeze as he put his arm around her. It would be a pleasure to see Davis again and kill him.
Chapter 3
After pulling the dress over her head, Rose Wallace studied herself thoughtfully in the full-length mirror as she smoothed the cloth down. Picking up a brush and running it through her brown hair, she looked closely at the reflected face. Crow’s feet were just beginning to show on the smooth skin of her face. It was a shame to age, she thought, but in the end it really didn’t matter. She never thought of herself as a beauty, so somehow she was always surprised how men seemed to flock to her.
After the recent death of husband, she was shocked to see that loathsome pastor Horace at her doorstep. It was one thing for him to come on church business, but after a few visits, his consoling words soon turned to marriage. He looked so hopeful in his frayed and dirtied black jacket that she almost didn’t have the heart to turn him down. But she declined his proposal nonetheless and hoped that was the end of that. She was actually glad when Richard Gardner showed his intentions, for he was at least feared by everyone in town. This stopped the amorous advances of the pastor and the hungry looks of the local blacksmith, Elijah.
She hated this town and the idle gossip that had only intensified since the war had begun. Rose knew that the townspeople still had suspicions of her, which was only natural because of her northern roots, but still she found the whispered rumors annoying. If they had known she was passing information to her uncle Calvin in the War Department at Washington, it would only be a short time before she found herself dangling from a noose.
Rose knew had to stay here at Stanton if she wanted to keep on making a living on her own. She still had her deceased husband’s business, and the since Federal army could never hope to completely seal off the Tennessee border, the black market in guns and powder was thriving. Through her trusted employee, Miguel, she was able to send messages to her uncle in Washington. Miguel traveled north, dodging Union patrols and returned each time with his heavily-laden wagon. This was the only way to keep their shop stocked for Gardner’s men.
Deep in thought, Rose smoothed down the sides of her hair and then arranged the silver necklace around her neck. She knew that Richard was coming over this morning, and she wanted to look her best for the man who was in love with her. She really didn’t know if she was in love with him, but she was admittedly taken by his energy and directness. The soldiers listened to him and were willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. She felt momentarily guilty trying to get information to pass to her uncle, but it gave her a thrill to play the part of a spy for the country she still loved. Just last night, she had received a note from her uncle, and in his short, cramped writing was a bold plan that she must soon act upon.
There was a solid knock at the front door, and Rose felt her breath catch. She felt like a young school girl again, blushing at the thought of love. “Now be serious,” she said to herself. “There is no real reason to feel this way. I must consider my Uncle Hall’s wishes.” But she still scurried to the door and opened it before her maid Elsie had a chance to leave the kitchen.
Major Gardner was waiting, impatiently tapping his foot against the doorsill. Once he saw Rose, his face softened and he gave a little bow to her. “My word, you do look beautiful this morning. I was hoping to catch you at home.”
This was his little joke, for she always expected him at this time of day. It was a little respite before the daily business of the camp took him away. Rose enjoyed entertaining him immensely since he always had a kind word for her. She stood back and opened the door wider to let him pass. She said graciously, “Please come in, Richard. I was just making some tea for us.”
The major was well-dressed with his coat neatly buttoned and his pants immaculately creased. He strode into the front parlor with his hat held loosely. It was a tidy room with a plush rug laid before a crackling fire. A few of her deceased husband’s amateur sketches adorned the wall. Waiting patiently until she sat on the sofa, Gardner took the chair across from her.
“How are you this morning?” he asked respectfully. His face was locked on hers as if expecting some bad news. He always seemed to carry an earnest look pinned on his face like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
Rose felt herself blushing when she replied, “I am well, Richard. How goes your little war?” She was always afraid to ask him direct questions of a military nature with the fear of him recognizing that he was being milked for information. But he never refused to answer her and always replied in an unguarded manner.
“I have a good group of men. When we had a chance to count up the gold we last took from those blue-bellied soldiers – not a single piece of gold was missing.”
“Well, that is good,” she replied. “What do you propose to do next? You seem to have been in town for quite a while. I expected you to ride out soon and continue your raids.”
“I’m afraid I’ve been waiting for further orders. I’ve been sending out some patrols here and there to harass the enemy, but I’m still hesitant to move out with the main force until we have been given some further information on where to strike next. He is always most explicit on this point.”
Rose wished she knew who he was talking about, but Gardner was surprisingly cautious about revealing the man who was giving him orders. She weighed her words carefully before speaking. “I do wish you would be careful. You know that I would hate to lose you to a bullet like my poor husband. So please don’t take too many risks.” She was hoping he would give her some detail of the next place he would strike, but was not surprised by his non-answer.
“Don’t you worry, I’ve been through plenty of trouble before. Those Union boys don’t have a chance getting me.” The major’s tone wasn’t boastful, but stated simply by a man who seemed confident in his own ability.
At a loss for word, Rose poured out two cups of tea from the pot. She stirred in spoonful of cream for herself and then pushed Richard’s cup towards him. He always took it black. She could see him looking at the cup thoughtfully. “I should have mentioned this earlier, but my cousin Nathan is going to come visit me soon,” she said.
“Your cousin?” Gardner asked suspiciously and locked his eyes on hers. “You never told me about him. Is he a Northerner like yourself?” His tone was serious as if it was some type of contractible disease.
“Oh, he’s too old to be conscripted into the army, but he still is interested in our plight down here.”
“That’s to say he’s interested in our money?” Richard said with a momentary grin.
“Well, like my husband, Nathan is an expert with firearms. He was planning to bring some down here to the shop for me to sell. Once I told him about the amount of business I was doing, he seemed most interested in doing business with me. There are some new types of weapons that he managed to get out of the federal armory that seem most promising.”
The major suddenly looked interested as he said, “What kind of guns?”
“There is a new carbine that will be issued to the Union Calvary. It is a repeating rifle of a new type of manufacture. He didn’t go into any details but mentioned it was superior to any other design he had ever seen. I’m sure he would gladly show it to you.”
“Your cousin Nathan may be speaking of the new Spencer Carbine. I would definitely be most interested in seeing that. When do you expect him to visit?”
Rose could tell that the mention of the carbine had interested Gardner since he was always looking for new ways to fight on horseback. She replied, “He has to travel all the way from Pennsylvania and dodge the Union patrols on the border. I was surprised his message was able to get to me, but Miguel always manages to find a way to get through. It should only be a few more days until he arrives in town.”
“We must speak further of Miguel someday. I’ve wondered how you’ve kept that store of your so heavily stocked. Every other store has empty shelves, but you continue to supply us with the cartridges we desperately need.”
“My employee is most adept at sneaking through the countryside. He knows every trail from here to Kentucky where his brother lives. If any message comes from my family, they know where to reach him."
“Just how close are you to this family of yours?” Gardner asked suspiciously. Rose could feel her throat tighten in panic by this sudden interest. “You seem oddly well-informed by them.”
“Oh, I was always my father’s favorite,” Rose said quickly. “My family was sad to see me move down here with my husband. Even with this war, you have to find ways to keep in touch with your own kin.”
The answer seemed to satisfy the major since he said, “Well, just be careful. You know the town was already suspicious of you when you moved down here. They would love to find a reason to hate you even more.”
“I have no reason to fear as long as you are here to protect me,” she replied coyly. As much as she hated to say the words, she knew they were true. His stern countenance and demeanor was enough to frighten the meek people of this wretched little town. As long as he stayed here, Rose had little to fear since Gardner was above suspicion and his approval provided protection from the petty suspicions of the town.
“My dear, I am glad I can provide such protection to you.” Richard’s face briefly softened as he said, “And that provides me with an opportunity to ask you a question of the most personal nature.” He cleared his throat. “I want to ask for your hand in marriage.” He then got down on one knee and took her hand.
His words were hardly surprising to Rose, for she was expecting such a proposal from this stern-faced major. But she couldn’t help blush and cover her mouth with her free hand.
The major appeared to take her silence as a rejection. He quickly said, “I know you lost your husband just a short while ago. But you are a beautiful woman who has held me spellbound since we first met. If you marry me, I promise to keep you safe from harm. You will be well cared for and…”