Annie, Between the States Page 5

  Annie could hear no more. It didn’t matter. She was going. Going to warn Stuart and Laurence.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Annie didn’t stop to consider how dangerous warning the Confederates would be or what might happen to her if she ran into Union troops. All she knew was that her brother and that dashing Colonel Stuart were in peril—that the Federals were heading her way again.

  How could she stand by like a simpering coward and let her countrymen be overwhelmed by greater numbers? Perhaps if she forewarned the Southern cavalry, she could somehow prevent a skirmish from happening at all. Maybe if he knew how many Federals were coming at him, Colonel Stuart would withdraw to a safer area. It would mean that Lewinsville, Annie, and her mother would be engulfed within enemy lines. But that was all right, because they were leaving for home tomorrow anyway. Just as long as there wasn’t some terrible battle to witness and more dead to bury afterward. Annie would do anything to avoid that nightmare again.

  No, the only questions remaining were: How would Annie get to Stuart’s men? And should she ask permission from her mother first, before leaving? The second question Annie dispensed with quickly. Her mother would never let Annie go on such a bold errand. She’d have to leave without being seen by Miriam, Cousin Eleanor, or her servants.

  The first question was more of a dilemma. Annie could walk the three miles, but it would take way too long. She couldn’t hitch up the carriage. She didn’t know how, and it would be too obvious on the road. No, she’d have to ride one of the carriage horses.

  Annie scampered to Cousin Eleanor’s small stable and peeped around the door. She didn’t see Cousin Eleanor’s man. She tiptoed in, her carpet slippers making no sound.

  The horses were munching on hay, swishing their tails against flies. They looked up at her sleepily. Which to pick? She didn’t know any of them. The Union forces had stolen the carriage horses that Miriam had brought from home. The two she and Miriam had used to travel to Lewinsville had been replacements, given to Miriam from the many left behind in the retreat. They were steady, but old and slow.

  Cousin Eleanor’s pair were better fed, and had sleeker coats, no obvious scars or bangs on their forelegs. One had kinder eyes and welcomed her petting his soft, whiskered muzzle. He’d do.

  Annie looked at the tack hanging on the wall. It was almost all carriage harnesses and reins. There was only one saddle: a man’s saddle. She hadn’t thought about that. Cousin Eleanor clearly didn’t ride. There was no side-saddle for Annie to use.

  Annie’s face flamed in frustration. If she was caught riding astride the horse, she’d shame her family yet again. Curse propriety. Sidesaddles made no sense at all anyway. It was ludicrous trying to jump fences with both legs pinned on the left side of a horse—there was no way to balance, no way to stay on except sheer determination. The best riding she’d ever done was bareback when no one was looking, her legs wrapped around Angel’s rib cage.

  For pity’s sake. Annie steeled herself. You are wasting time.

  She grabbed a bridle. At home, Annie rarely tacked up Angel. Their groom, Gabriel, did it. But she knew how. Annie struggled to pull the bridle over the huge horse’s head. He didn’t like the bit and stamped his feet impatiently.

  “There, boy, it’s all right, good boy,” Annie crooned, but the horse continued to pace and rustle.

  Bother, Annie fussed at the noise. I’ll be found out.

  Pop-pop-pop-pop.

  The horse yanked up his head and pricked his ears nervously. His nostrils flared wide, trying to smell what he could hear.

  Annie heard, too, and recognized it immediately. No more mistaking the sounds of conflict. Manassas had taken that innocence from Annie. It was gunfire, still far off, but shots answering shots.

  No time left. She’d have to do without a saddle.

  Annie pulled the horse out of the stall and found a mounting block outside. As she hurried, her ruffled petticoat caught about her knees. What a nuisance. The layers of flounces would make her slide all over the horse since she wouldn’t have stirrups to steady her. Without hesitating, Annie did another scandalous thing—she reached up under the skirt of her mauve-colored visiting dress and pulled off her petticoat, leaving only her knee-length drawers as undergarments. She left it there, a perfectly round circle of lace. She grabbed hold of the horse’s mane and jumped on, bundling her silk skirts up around her thighs.

  At first the horse just stood, dumbfounded at the feel of a person rather than a harness on his back. But he was a willing sort and gladly lumbered away without the weight of a wagon behind him.

  Annie moved into the woods, paralleling the road. She remembered that it led directly to Stuart’s camp. She kicked the horse into a jostling trot and gritted her teeth as she banged against his spine.

  Hurry up, you old thing, she muttered. She goosed him into a canter. This was a smoother gait, but the speed was risky through the woods, where low branches and hanging vines of Virginia creeper blocked her way. Branches and briers scraped her face and tore at her sleeves. But Annie was unaware of the scratches. Her skirt billowed up and down like a sail as the horse surged on, obviously happy to be out and moving freely.

  Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop.

  Gunfire again.

  BOOM-BOOM.

  Now cannon fire, too. But it was farther behind her now. Annie was definitely making distance. How much farther? she wondered. Maybe fifteen more minutes. Could the horse keep up the pace? She patted his neck and listened to his heavy breathing. So far it was even. She knew better than to push an out-of-condition horse this hard, but she had no choice.

  “Come on, old fellow,” she spoke, and he lifted his ears to listen.

  Annie ducked and leaned and threaded their way through thick pines and tall pin oaks. The ground was uneven with roots, and Annie tried to avoid fallen branches, figuring the carriage horse hadn’t jumped anything in ages. They careened down a ditch and scrambled up the other side. Annie reached up to push her hair off her face—the jostling ride had knocked loose her hairpins. And that’s when she made a mistake. She didn’t see the fallen tree.

  “Oh, my Lord,” she breathed as she felt the horse pull himself into a massive ball of muscle and then spring up and over the three-foot log.

  At just the right instant, Annie grabbed hold of his thick mane. She lifted up into the air, but her hands held firm and pulled her back down onto his back as he landed, panting, on the other side. Her neck whipped around and her bottom hurt mightily where it had banged hard against him at the landing, but she was still on him. “Good boy!” she gasped, and patted him. She fought the urge to let out a whoop of satisfaction. That had been something! What a ride.

  As the two stood panting, the horse snorting and shaking his head, Annie heard leaves scattering. Squirrels darted up trees, spooked by something coming along the road. She listened harder and recognized the jingle and clatter of cavalry.

  This had to be Laurence coming in that direction. Still, to be certain, Annie peered through the trees. She saw a huge group of horses and riders in Confederate gray uniforms. Awash in relief, Annie completely forgot her concern for propriety. She kicked the horse on. They popped out of the woods and slid down the embankment in a tumble of branches and loose stones and old leaves, the huge horse skittering to a gawky stop in the middle of the road.

  The neat column of gray-clad riders jerked to a halt. A few of the sleek thoroughbred horses reared, startled by Annie’s sudden and loud appearance. Some of the riders instinctively drew pistols or swords. For a long moment, they stood still eyeing Annie, Annie looking at them, her heart pounding, her hands shaking. Praise God! She’d found them. Oh, they’d be so glad to hear her information.

  “The Federals,” she croaked, for her throat was parched, her mouth full of dust from her helter-skelter ride. Annie pointed back behind her. “They’re coming with infantry and guns….”

  No one moved. None of them seemed to understand her. They were looking at her as if she were
a madwoman. With a horrible realization, Annie’s hands flew up to her hair. It was half up, half down. Twigs stuck through it. Her face was damp, and when she pulled back her hands, she saw a smudge of blood on her fingertips. She looked down and saw that one pagoda sleeve was torn, lace dangling. She’d even lost a shoe.

  Tears of embarrassment filled her eyes. “The Federals…” She tried again but could say no more. The vision of the horsemen blurred. Through her mist of tears, she saw one detach from the group and ride closer. She blinked to clear her vision and saw he had on a hat with a fluttering plume. As he got closer, he began to roar with laughter. “Miss Annie!” he called. “As I live and breathe…Miss Annie…You are like Liberty herself riding to our aid.” An aide shadowed Jeb Stuart as he trotted toward her.

  Hastily, Annie did her best to calm her hair and wipe away her tears. Stuart reined in his horse beside her and grinned. “You absolutely awe me, Miss Annie.” The aide behind him did not look as impressed.

  “Colonel Stuart,” she began breathlessly, “please forget my appearance right now, but I had to warn you. Warn you about something I overheard Federal troops saying as they passed by my cousin’s house three miles back.” She turned and pointed. “They were saying that they’re going—”

  “To bring up an entire brigade?”

  Annie gasped. “Why, yes, exactly.”

  “I know.” Stuart smiled at her.

  “And guns and—”

  “And reinforced cavalry.” Stuart beamed at her.

  “Yes, I know. My scouts brought back the news about an hour ago. We’re heading out now to scare them off.”

  “But Colonel, they will so outnumber you. They said they’ll mass eighteen hundred men. And, sir, I can’t see all your riders, but it looks like you have only…” Annie tried to count Stuart’s horsemen.

  “About six hundred.” He interrupted her again. He seemed greatly amused by the whole thing.

  Annie shook her head. That meant the Union had a three-to-one advantage over the Confederate riders. She couldn’t understand why Stuart wasn’t turning them around.

  Stuart spoke quietly to his aide. “Go back and find Corporal Sinclair and ask him to come forward to me.”

  The aide shot Annie one more disapproving look and clucked to move his horse away.

  Stuart pulled from his waistcoat a monogrammed handkerchief. He opened his canteen and doused the cotton square in water, handing it to Annie. “You’ve scratches on that beautiful face, Miss Annie. Best wipe it clean.”

  Annie took the handkerchief. “Colonel,” she tried again, “there’ll be too many of them.”

  “Tut, tut, Miss Annie. Don’t you worry.” He stopped smiling and became earnest. “If we oppose force to force in this war, we cannot win. You are right. Their resources are greater than ours.” Then he leaned back in his saddle, putting his hand on his hip, and grinned again. “We must substitute esprit for numbers. We can win through our spirit of the chase.”

  He turned in his saddle, the leather squeaking as he did. He called back to his riders, “We’re off to hunt bluebirds, eh, boys?”

  “Yeeehaw, Colonel,” some called back. “Let’s ride!”

  At that moment, Laurence rode up on his favorite dappled gray horse, Merlin. The shocked, then embarrassed, look on his face when he saw Annie about broke her heart. She hung her head.

  Stuart caught their exchange and spoke loudly enough for his riders to hear. “Now, Corporal Sinclair. I have found Lady Liberty on the road here, and she is in need of an escort. She rode out to warn us of Federal movements. I am giving you the honor of seeing this lady to safety.”

  “Come, boys.” He lifted his hat in salute to Annie.

  “Tip your hat to the lady as you go.” He spurred away.

  Annie tried to smile at the hundreds of faces as they cantered by, hats held aloft, some smiling, some just staring, some sniggering at her.

  Then she turned to face Laurence.

  For an awful pause he said absolutely nothing. Then he held up his hand to silence her. Annie knew that look of carefully contained anger. “Do not speak to me,” he said as he took his horse into a slow trot.

  Annie dutifully followed. But her horse was tired and no longer excited about his adventure. He wanted to walk and kept breaking his trot. The road was tough going now, pitted by the hundreds of hooves that had just thundered through. Within a few minutes, Laurence was well ahead of her.

  “Laurence,” she called. “Wait!” Suddenly Annie was afraid to be alone. All her courage was used up.

  Atop a rise in the road, Laurence turned his horse to a halt. He sternly waved at her to hurry up. Annie booted her horse into a disgruntled trot and bounced, bounced, bounced up to Laurence.

  As she reached him, she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face. Then he snorted and dropped his head, shaking it. The laughter started in his shoulders, and pretty soon his whole body was rocking with it. He actually had to wipe his eyes as he finished laughing. “Lord, Annie, you are hard to brother. What a mess you look. What am I to do with you?”

  Annie smiled back. How many times had they had a conversation like this? “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, Laurence. I know I look ridiculous. But I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

  Laurence’s amusement disappeared. “Yes, Annie, you could have and you must in the future. Think what might have happened to you if you’d been caught. Right off to Old Capitol Prison, I imagine.”

  Annie pursed her lips. How could Laurence not understand?

  Laurence softened. He’d never been able to lord it over Annie for long. In truth, she knew that he was usually proud of her gumption. That’s what had made it possible for her to take his reprimands in the past. She knew that for the most part he said them because he had to, not necessarily because he believed them.

  Her brother laughed. “Prison would probably be good for you.” Then he grew serious. “Think, though, Annie, the worst thing would have been if you’d gotten caught in crossfire between us and the Feds. Some boys would have shot first and looked to see who you were later. You’re our only Sinclair girl, you know. You’re precious. How d’you think Mother would survive your getting killed?”

  Annie started to say that she expected Miriam would take it a lot worse if Laurence were killed, but then a different thought interrupted her. “Oh, no. Mother.” She looked down at her dress and its torn sleeves, the dirty skirt, her bare foot. “How am I going to go back to the house looking like this?”

  “How, indeed?” asked Laurence with a grin.

  “Come on.” He turned his horse. “We’ll figure out something as we go.”

  As they rode, the sounds of battle began to greet them. Not as loud or constant as Manassas, not at all. But there was a definite scrap going on, not far off. Laurence grew impatient. “I should be with my men,” he muttered. “We need to hurry.”

  They darted into the trees before they got to Cousin Eleanor’s house. Everyone was on the front porch, their backs to Laurence and Annie, looking toward the sounds of fighting.

  Laurence turned to Annie. “Here’s what we do. Just like that time you fell in the pond and I had to distract Mother while you got inside the house and changed. Remember?”

  Annie nodded.

  “I’m going to ride in as if I’m carrying messages from camp to Colonel Stuart. You creep in the back way. Put that horse in the stable. And get inside. Throw a shawl over those sleeves, fix your hair, and maybe you can get away with it. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Next time I see you, miss, I want to see a proper lady.” Laurence winked.

  “Heeyaw.” He took off his hat and whacked his horse with it, sending them racing toward Cousin Eleanor’s house, kicking up mud and rocks. Annie dropped off her horse and quickly led him toward the stable.

  Laurence wheeled to a stop right in front of the group, bringing a dramatic cloud of dust and debris up behind him, momentarily fogging everyone’s view in a perfect screen for An
nie. She slipped into the stable, left the huge horse gratefully drinking water in his stall, padded silently upstairs, found her evening shawl, pushed her hair back and pinned it tight. She even had the foresight to grab the book she’d been reading as she passed on her way toward the open front door.

  Annie appeared just as Miriam was saying, “I’m so worried, Laurence. I can’t find Annie anywhere.”

  “Here I am, Mother. I’d sat down by a shade tree at the edge of the wood to read and I must have fallen asleep.”

  “With all this noise, darling?” Miriam looked at Annie with complete disbelief. Annie fidgeted. She saw the growing look of suspicion on her mother’s face. And then—horrors—her mother’s eyes fell to her feet. Annie had forgotten her missing shoe!

  Fortunately, Cousin Eleanor was looking at Laurence. “Are you riding out to join them, Laurence?” There seemed to be no conflict between them, despite her loyalty to the Union.

  “Yes,” Laurence answered.

  “Be careful,” Cousin Eleanor said quietly.

  He tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am, I will.”

  Miriam simply held up her arms. Laurence leaned over and kissed her. “It’ll be all right, Mother. Stay in the house.” Then he rode away.

  Annie had seized the chance to tuck her foot carefully up under her skirts and even to slump a little so that her hem touched the floor. Walking in such a manner, she managed to conceal her bare toes for an hour. She was convinced that Miriam had forgotten what she’d seen.

  That night news reached Cousin Eleanor’s house that the skirmish was over quickly. Even though they had the greater numbers, the Federals had been completely flustered by the surprise charges of Stuart’s riders from the woods. Assuming Stuart had more riders than he actually did, given their bold attacks, the Federals broke rank. They eventually re-formed, only to withdraw back over the Potomac River to Washington. Not one Stuart man or horse was hurt.