THE B&O

Lily LeBeau had boarded the train several cars farther forward. Ida told herself to keep a sharp lookout at every stop and be ready to jump down if Lily got off, because if she lost Lily, how would she ever find Seth?

Oh heavens! For a moment, everyone in the car bounced and swayed as the train floundered over a rough place on the track. Ida guessed that the rails had been torn up by the enemy and patched together again. The car wobbled and lurched, and its occupants lurched with it, their possessions rolling in the aisle.

Ida clung to the back of the seat in front of her and thought about the safety of the infant growing so rambunctiously inside her. She didn’t really worry. The child had given her no trouble so far. But some of the other passengers glanced at her in concern. She smiled confidently back, and when the rails smoothed out, she devoted her attention to the view racing past the window.

She was fascinated by the size of the fields, so much bigger than the rocky tracts of arable land at home. Every one of these endless rail fences must enclose a dozen acres or more. The corn was tasseling everywhere. There were long slatted barns and broad fields of tobacco. She saw a woman in a sunbonnet sitting high up on the seat of a cultivating machine in one field, the reins of the plodding horses in her hand.

Leaning against the glass to look back, Ida wanted to jump off the train and tell her that it was the same at home. Her father was dead and her husband was in the war, so now it was up to the women and children to carry on.

Last fall, it had been Ida and Eben, Sally and Josh who had wandered around the apple orchard, picking up the windfalls. Their mother had followed after them, helping little Alice gather good ones in her pinafore. Of course, thought Ida, smiling to herself, Mother Morgan had never helped at all, being too sickly, or so she said.

This summer, who would load the wagon and carry the peaches to market? Hired help was hard to come by, and it was a grueling drive in the middle of the night. Perhaps this year they would take them in on the cars. It was strange, thought Ida, how little she blamed herself for staying away from home in this busiest of all seasons. Perhaps being with child had made her selfish. But child or no child, she was determined to find Seth, no matter what terrible thing he had done, no matter how cruelly he had chosen another way.

“Your ticket, ma’am,” said the conductor, appearing beside her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have a ticket. May I buy one?” Ida held out a five-dollar bill, hoping it would be enough.

The conductor shook his head. “Well, ma’am, we ain’t supposed to sell tickets on the train, but everything’s topsy-turvy anyhow.” He handed her the ticket with her change.

Ida smiled and said, “Thank you.”

But the conductor was in a conversational mood. Taking hold of the brass loop on the back of her seat, he explained why things were topsy-turvy. “First of all, there’s all them crates of medical supplies for the hospitals down there.”

“Hospitals?”

“In Washington. The whole city’s turned into one whopper of a hospital. And then there’s all them trucks of coal. Look, missus, quick now. See ’em there on the siding? Abe Lincoln, he says they’ll all be dark as pitch if we don’t get ’em there in a hellfire hurry.”

“Goodness me,” said Ida.

The conductor expanded in the warmth of her interest. “Biggest problem is the men. Mr. Garrett, he’s commandeered ten locomotives to carry ten thousand men, that’s a thousand apiece.”

Ida was happy to have someone to talk to. “Who’s Mr. Garrett?”

“You don’t know Mr. Garrett? Why, he’s the most important man in Baltimore. He owns this here railroad. And if Mr. Garrett says ten thousand men’s going out today, ten thousand men will go out today. Did you see them fellers back there at the depot in Baltimore? Couple thousand, he said they was all supposed to go out today, heading for some godforsaken place.”

“I see,” said Ida.

“Well, thank Gawd, ma’am, this here’s only a passenger train with decent folks like you on board.”

“Can you tell me when we’ll arrive in Washington?”

He pulled out his watch. “Couple hours yet. When the train pulls in, I’ll help you down with your things.”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” said Ida, uncomfortably aware that she had no things. “I won’t need any help, but thank you just the same.”