Front Royal, Virginia

August 25, 1861

Evelyn swiped the moisture from her damp cheeks and tossed another load of soiled linens into the pile for the laundresses. Weeks had melded into one another until she felt as wrung-out as the threadbare sheets drying on the line. She’d washed bodies, written letters, and ferried meals and coffee to and fro until the blisters on her feet had long since turned calloused.

Miss Alice Avery, a pleasant young woman who had taken to Evelyn’s side since Isabella had abandoned the hospital two days into their duties, dumped another load into the pile. The nearest laundress, a dark-skinned girl of no more than twelve, regarded the growing pile with tired eyes.

“I reckon those poor girls have their hands full of it.” Alice gathered a loose lock and pinned it to the rest of her mass of chocolate-brown curls that ever tried to defy their confinement.

“No more than the rest of us, I dare say.”

Alice gave a knowing grin. “That’s the truth of it. I never worked as hard at the farm as I have washing and tending those men.”

Evelyn had done little physical labor prior to her weeks volunteering at the hospital, and her body bore the aches to prove it. But more than the soreness that plagued her limbs, her heart grew restless. Weeks she’d waited, and still no word from her father. What had happened to him?

Alice wiped her hands on her apron. “I heard one of the generals would be coming by tomorrow to check on the men. Any who are able to get out of their beds on their own are going to return to duty.”

Evelyn shifted her attention to the young laundress and gave her a sympathetic smile as she dropped her soiled apron into the pile. She’d worn it for three days, but when Sergeant Reynolds lost his supper in her lap, it was necessary to find a replacement. She felt sorry for the wash girls, but was more than glad to be separated from the garment. “Nonsense. Just because they can stand doesn’t mean they need to go back to drilling and marching. How are they to heal?”

Alice shrugged and made her way around another heaping pile of soiled bandages waiting to be burned. Flies buzzed around it in swarms. Why wouldn’t the laundresses do the burning first? Surely smoke was preferable to flies.

“I don’t know,” Alice replied. “No one asks my opinion on such things.”

Nor did they care for Evelyn’s, though she had often enough given it. They made their way out of the wash yard, and Alice fell into step at her side. The girl twisted her hands together as though something buzzed about in her brain as incessantly as the flies around the bandages.

Sure enough, Alice sucked in a quick breath and spouted hurried words. “How well do you know Mrs. Greenman?”

“Not well.”

“You did spend time with her, though, right? She was one of the ladies you visited during your social season.”

Evelyn halted and looked at the girl, who stood an inch or so shorter. For all of Alice’s wild hair, she was lovely with a smooth complexion and clear brown eyes. Isabella would dub her pleasant, though not beautiful. “Why the sudden interest in my social season, Alice? Do you have plans on securing one yourself?”

“Ha!” The wind snagged another of her locks and sent it scurrying across her thin nose. “Don’t be daft. What farm girl has any cause for a social season? Silliness, if you ask me.”

Evelyn studied the young woman who had become a much-needed friend in the shared trials of tending the wounded. Perhaps she was right. Once, Evelyn had longed for her season, hoping it would equalize her in her cousin and aunt’s eyes. Now, she wondered if such preening was naught but foolish pride and desperate plays for a man’s attention. What were they? Fillies paraded about at auction? The absurdity of it made her laugh. “You’re right, of course. But this is not the first time you’ve asked me about Washington.”

During the past three days, Alice had peppered her with various questions about Washington, her social season, and now Mrs. Greenman.

Evelyn put a hand on her hip. “If you have no interest in presenting yourself to society, what reasons do you have for all these questions?”

Alice glanced behind her at the women working the washtubs and grabbed Evelyn by the elbow. “Come with me.”

Evelyn planted her feet. “We have work to do.”

Alice tugged. “It can wait a few moments. This is important.”

Too intrigued to refuse, Evelyn allowed Alice to lead her farther from the wash yard toward an open area away from the range of any listening ears.

“What’s this about, Alice?”

Alice grew still, her eyes more intense than Evelyn had ever seen them. “I need to know what you know about Mrs. Greenman and her spy ring.”

Evelyn scoffed. “I know nothing of it other than the rumors I’ve heard flying about town ever since Manassas.” She frowned. “What makes you think otherwise?”

“You and your cousin are the only ladies I know who have met her in person.”

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but anything she has to do with spying is beyond my knowledge. I still don’t know if any of those rumors are actually true.”

She turned to walk back to the hospital to help with settling the men in for the night, but Alice grabbed her hand in earnest. “They say she has couriers running notes from Washington all the way to Richmond.” Her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer. “And I aim to help her.”

Evelyn’s heart quickened. “That’s too dangerous.”

Alice bounced on the balls of her feet, making her appear all the younger. “Don’t you want to do more to help than wash filthy men?”

Evelyn hesitated. She’d felt satisfaction in her work at the hospital, but it wouldn’t gain her a place at her father’s side.

“You know Mrs. Greenman,” Alice pressed. “You can introduce me to her.”

The girl was mad. What Alice sought to do would see her captured and possibly killed.

The breeze picked up, sending dust clouds to play around the hems of their skirts and tug strands of hair free. Evelyn tucked it behind her ear. Perhaps she could get her friend to think it through and see the foolishness of the idea. “And what, precisely, do you think to do if I did introduce you?”

Alice lowered her voice, though no one stood near. “Just what I said. I’m going to Washington to be a courier for Mrs. Greenman.”

She said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world, as though it were not a harebrained scheme with no real direction or thought-out course of action. “And your plan is to waltz up to Washington alone and unprotected and announce you’d like to be a spy?”

“Shh!” Alice glanced around. The clearing in which they stood separated them from the orderlies who toted bodies to the dead house and from the washing women who likely had no interest in their discussion.

“This is foolishness. We need to get back inside.”

“Please. Just listen.”

Despite her better judgment, Evelyn paused.

Alice latched on to her hesitation. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have you. You are all the protection we will need.”

Suddenly, Evelyn wished she hadn’t confided in Alice about what had happened on Independence Day. She’d been tired, worn down with the tending of men, and the guilt and anger in her heart had bubbled over and found a willing ear.

Feeling older than eighteen years should, Evelyn’s shoulders sagged. “How old are you, Alice?”

She stiffened. “Old enough.”

“How old?” Evelyn insisted with more annoyance than she’d intended.

Alice squared her shoulders. “I’m sixteen. Not much younger than you.”

Evelyn crossed her arms, the feeling of maturity fleeting with the childish gesture. “And how do you know my age?”

“Miss Lawrence told me.” Alice lifted her chin as though the pronouncement was one to be proud of.

Evelyn glanced at the sky, where the thickening clouds portended rain. “I wasn’t aware you were friends with my cousin.” Why the thought rankled, she couldn’t be sure.

Alice barked a laugh that seemed to mirror a hint of the bitterness Evelyn had often tried to smother within herself. “Of course we’re not friends. She’d never be friends with the likes of me. But”—her grin returned—“she did answer a few of my questions.”

Worn down by Alice’s insistence, more likely. Evelyn turned back toward the hospital. “We’ve dallied too long.”

Alice grasped her hand. “Wait! You haven’t said if you’ll go with me.”

Evelyn paused. Part of her longed for the adventure. But it simply wasn’t practical. “We are making a difference here.”

Alice looked doubtful, and Evelyn had to wonder if her words were more for the over-eager girl or herself. “This is where we are needed.”

“Please, just tell me you’ll think on it.” Alice squeezed Evelyn’s hand and let it go. As she turned away, her soft words floated on the restless breeze. “I’ll be leaving soon whether you join me or not.”

Evelyn followed her friend back to the hospital, where they resumed their work. She’d soon have to figure out a way to convince Alice to change her mind, but right now she had too much to do.

She headed to gather a fresh basin and bar of soap when a young man entering the hospital caught her attention. He stood near the entry with a small black bag in hand. He was dark-haired and of an average height, with a plain face that probably didn’t draw many eyes. But there was something about the way he studied the ward that caused Evelyn to approach him.

“May I help you find someone?”

He shifted his regard to her. “I’m a dentist. Anyone in need of service?”

“Others have already come, but you are welcome to ask one of the doctors.”

“Perhaps I’ll just ask some of the fellows.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He bounded away, his gaze darting around as though he looked for someone. Curious, she followed him.

He moved through the hospital, asking men their names and taking note of any who said they had need of a dentist. Then he came upon Tim Holloway and dropped his dental bag at the foot of the private’s bed.

He glanced around to see if anyone watched him, but didn’t take note of Evelyn. Then the dentist removed something from his jacket and passed what looked to be a folded paper to Tim. They whispered low words Evelyn couldn’t hear.

A few moments later, the fellow hurried out without examining a single tooth. Evelyn watched him go, then promptly went to Tim.

Tim Holloway was a towheaded fellow who hailed from Martinsburg. Evelyn had met him in passing at various neighborly gatherings, and since he’d ended up in the Front Royal hospital, she’d taken many of his letters to the postman. Putting on a smile, she settled onto his cot.

“In need of a dentist, Private Holloway?”

His eyes widened. “Um, I thought so, but turns out I was wrong.”

She hitched her eyebrows. “And how do you know that since he didn’t look in your mouth?”

Tim paled.

“What’s really going on?”

He shook his head.

She lowered her voice. “You can trust me.”

He stared at her for several moments, then sighed. “Your father is a newspaper writer, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Though that had nothing to do with dentistry.

“Then maybe you’re the best to tell. Even if you are a woman. Not like I can do it myself anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

Tim leaned closer. “A new secret service is bringing in recruits. Ordinary people who aid in the transfer of information. One of the resourceful ways they operate is by running columns in the newspaper to coordinate their movements and plans.”

Evelyn nearly laughed. “How secret can something be if you take out an advertisement for it in the newspaper?”

“The messages are coded. They announce arrivals and departures by advertising under previously determined aliases. If you don’t know what to look for, you would never see it.”

Ingenious. Did Daddy know about such things? “What does that have to do with you and the dentist?”

“He’s not really a dentist.”

She should have known.

“He’s a part of a secret group that calls themselves the Knights of the Golden Circle.”

A strange tingle ran down her spine. Why did a name so full of light give a feeling of darkness?

“We’ve been friends for many years. He thought I would be returning to duty and said he could trust me to get the dispatch to the right place.”

Evelyn sighed. “You didn’t tell him.”

“Should have. Was too ashamed.”

She kept her gaze from wandering to where his missing foot was hidden beneath a thin blanket. Tim Holloway wouldn’t be returning to duty.

“Will you do it?” He slipped a paper from underneath him and showed her an advertisement for employment.

“I cannot.” She rose. “Surely there are other ways of aiding the cause than such clandestine tomfoolery.”

Tim’s face reddened. “It’s not tomfoolery. They even have a doctor line that runs from Washington to Richmond. Clever, really. They send doctors, both real and fashioned, to carry the messages. It’s a grand idea, seeing as how medical men can move around at all hours without raising suspicion, and they carry bags that can be used to smuggle all kinds of items.”

Evelyn put a hand to her temple. “Women spies and fraudulent doctors? What has this war brought us to?”

Tim leaned forward and grasped her skirt, desperation in his eyes. “If I don’t do my part, then the mission will fail.”

“Why didn’t you think of that when you told him you would help, knowing full well you could not?”

He released her. “If you will not aid me, do you know anyone who will?”

Evelyn’s gaze sought out her friend and watched her carry linens through the ward. Perhaps it would be just the thing to curb Alice’s desire for adventure without her trying to undertake a dangerous trip to Washington.

She looked back to Tim. “I may have just the person.”

Isabella turned up her nose. “I will not.”

The rain fell in buckets outside the square dwelling they’d called home since coming to Front Royal. It beat upon the glass like hundreds of tiny fingers beckoning for her to return outside and to the hospital. Soon after her talk with Alice, the rain had started, and it hadn’t let up in the two days since. The streets had turned to mud, and when the doctor sent her home with strict instructions to rest today, that mud had clung to her shoes and hem in clumps.

“The worst of it’s over.” Evelyn twirled the thimble on her thumb. “The doctors and nurses see to the wounds.”

“Still.” Isabella shivered. “I’ll not go back. Mother says I don’t have to.”

“You won’t have to do any washing.”

Isabella sighed. “Please. Can we not simply spend an evening in companionship?”

Evelyn blinked. Isabella wished for her company? For the first time in weeks, she would be present for the evening meal with the family. She’d spent nearly every waking hour at the hospital, from dawn’s break to deep into the night. Had her cousin actually missed her?

She held her tongue, not wanting to spoil the sentiment even though she wanted Isabella to return to the hospital with her. She could see how Isabella would shy away from the messiness of it all. But things were different now.

Isabella set aside her knitting. “Evie, I just can’t.” Before Evelyn could reply, her gentle tone dissipated and became steeled with arrogance. “It’s simply too much for a proper lady’s delicate sensibilities.”

Evelyn withheld the unladylike snort that would have undermined her argument. “That isn’t true. Why, many ladies have offered their services. It is a small price asked of us when the men are giving their bodies and lives.”

“I’ll still not go.” Isabella frowned at the window, the diminishing light causing gray shadows to cling to her floral print skirt. She rose with the grace of one who put the utmost care into her appearance and fetched a lantern.

Evelyn watched her light it and set it on the table by her parlor chair, then tried a different approach. “Surely you could visit for an hour and write a few letters? That would not stress you overmuch.” She tried to keep sarcasm from darkening her tone, but it pricked her words all the same.

“I will not be present with half-clothed men for any reason.” Isabella glared at her, all traces of their fleeting moment of tenderness gone. “There are plenty of low-bred girls about who can write for those who are not educated enough to do it themselves.”

Heat crept up the back of Evelyn’s neck and tingled along her hairline. She tried to keep her voice soft. “Many are fine, educated gentlemen who have had the unfortunate luck of losing a hand or arm while trying to defend the rest of us.”

“That’s not my concern. Such are the consequences of men’s quarrels. Women are to remain quietly at home.”

Evelyn frowned. “You don’t have to just sit around and remain helpless.”

Isabella wrinkled her nose. “There you go sounding all high and mighty, as if you have any right to be. Do you ever grow tired of poking at anyone who does not do as you think is right?”

Evelyn sat back, her cousin’s words hitting her like a slap to the face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard exactly what I said. You pick your words to make me sound heartless simply because I do not do things the way you would have me do them.”

The hypocrisy of the statement scalded as surely as if she’d been doused with the contents of a frying pan. “Oh, no. Surely you are correct. I don’t suppose I have any idea what it feels like for someone to shoot condescending words in my direction because I didn’t speak, or walk, or breathe as deemed appropriate by the infallible Lawrence women.”

Isabella tossed her knitting to the floor. “Why, you ungrateful little—”

“Is everything all right in here?” Aunt Mary stepped into the parlor, the drum of the rain on the roof having muffled her approaching footsteps.

Isabella glared at Evelyn before scooping up her knitting and plastering a fabricated smile across her face. “Everything is fine, Mother. How was your day?”

Rather than taking a seat, Aunt Mary stood by the window though she surely couldn’t see anything past the waterfall cascading from the high-pitched roof. “Well enough, I suppose. Lara’s reading is improving, and she seems to find some enjoyment in her dolls, but I fear she’s terribly homesick.”

Isabella’s voice returned to its usual velvety timbre. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. We must only endure a little longer.”

Evelyn doubted that, but held her tongue.

Aunt Mary turned from the window and lifted one corner of her mouth. The expression was so marred with sadness, however, that one could scarcely consider it a smile. “I have decided we will return home.”

Isabella clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful news, Mother! I’m sure it will be good for us.”

“I’ve already spoken to your aunt and uncle. Should the Yanks descend on us in Martinsburg again, we’ll simply return here. But unless that happens, there’s no reason we should stay on.”

“What about the hospital?” Evelyn interjected, though no one cared for her opinion. “They need our help.”

Aunt Mary turned to her as though seeing her for the first time. “There are plenty of women in Front Royal. It’s not our concern.”

“Not our…?” Evelyn squeezed her hands in her lap in the hopes that all of her frustration would find anchor there and not worm its way into her words. “Aunt, do not your husband and son fight? What if they ended up in a hospital? Wouldn’t you want—”

“Do not dare to speak to me about my husband and son!” Her gaze turned incendiary. “I know more of their sacrifice than you ever could.”

The rest of Evelyn’s statement died in her throat, and she merely stared at Aunt Mary. Did she not see that hiding from the reality of this war would do her no good? Pretending they were not under attack would not keep the forces at bay.

Aunt Mary glared at Evelyn with eyes as sharp as bayonets that held nary a tone of motherly affection. But did they ever? Despair writhed in her stomach. What had she ever done to gain such distaste? Had she not always tried her best to earn the love of the family that had taken her in?

“We will be returning to Martinsburg day after tomorrow.” Aunt Mary’s cool tone slipped across the room and stabbed her. “When we return there, you may wait for your father to retrieve you.”

Despite the undercurrent of the words, Evelyn’s heart swelled. “Daddy is coming for me?”

“You will send word for him to do so.”

Evelyn rose from her chair and stepped closer to Aunt Mary. “But I haven’t heard from him in several weeks.”

Aunt Mary glanced at Isabella, who had forgotten her knitting and was watching them closely. “A letter came two days ago. He’s going to Washington.”

“I have high hopes my letter will reach him there,” Aunt Mary said, “through our mutual friend Mrs. Greenman.”

Evelyn took a breath but had to pause to wet dry lips before she could speak. “He wrote and you didn’t tell me?”

Isabella waved a hand. “You’re never here.”

Aunt Mary remained stoic, but her gaze roamed down Evelyn as though she hadn’t spent years in her company. “No one can say I didn’t try. Truly I did, but with all that is happening, I can no longer bear the responsibility. I regret my failing, but no amount of training can account for your unfortunate heritage. The time has come for me to return you to your father.”

The woman spoke in strange circles, hinting and retreating, baiting and abandoning. Evelyn rubbed her temples, wishing she would speak plainly. “What are you talking about?”

Aunt Mary shook her head, her lips pinching together.

“My heritage? What does that mean?” Her voice tightened. “Surely you don’t hold my mother’s death against me.”

Turning her gaze out the window once more, Aunt Mary seemed years older than she had mere months earlier. “Not her death. Her birth.”

“What?”

Aunt Mary clutched the cloth at her throat. “She was…” She shook her head and lowered her voice. “Of Indian descent.”

Evelyn stared at her, the faded memory of her mother surfacing. Her long black hair. Her deep-brown eyes. Beautiful.

Red splotches decorated Aunt Mary’s cheeks. “She was a half-breed. My father warned Douglass not to marry her, but my brother wouldn’t listen.”

Tears burned Evelyn’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Isabella gasped. “But she’s as pale as I am.”

Aunt Mary looked away. “I did all I could. Now I must focus on my own daughters.” She straightened. “Besides, you are a woman now, and can make your own way. Perhaps your father can find a husband for you in Washington, since I was unable to secure one for you during your season.”

Evelyn could scarcely breathe. Her own family shunned her because one of her grandparents had been an Indian? For this secret she had suffered years of feeling that she could never do enough, say enough, be enough for her aunt?

Could she return to Martinsburg with them and await word from her father? Or would the animosity that defied logic continue to thrust her farther into isolation?

Nothing she could do or say could ever change the blood in her veins. And even if she could, she wouldn’t. She would never want to erase her mother’s fingerprints.

Evelyn lifted her chin. “Then perhaps I should go ahead and begin my journey to Washington instead of waiting for him.”

Alice’s plan tickled the back of her mind. Could she and Alice travel together to Washington and then seek her father together? She studied her aunt. Regardless of their current animosity, surely her aunt would never allow such a thing. Surely.

Aunt Mary heaved a sigh. “I wish it were possible, but it would be irresponsible of me.”

Not concern or love. Merely obligation and responsibility. Evelyn lowered her eyes and assumed the docile stance that had once gained her fleeting approval. “Then with your permission, I’d like to wait here for him. I feel I’ll be of more use at the hospital than sitting idle in Martinsburg.”

Aunt Mary stared at her for what felt like an exceedingly long moment, relief clear in her eyes even if it didn’t come from her lips.

Finally, she gave a curt nod. “Very well, then, since that is your wish. I will speak to Hattie, pay for your room, and leave you a small stipend.” She lifted a finger and aimed it at Evelyn as though she were a wayward child. “But you will see to your hospital duties and keep out of trouble. I’ll not have you give Hattie any reason to regret her hospitality. Don’t forget you’re my responsibility, and your actions fall back on my good name.”

“Yes, Aunt.” Evelyn excused herself from the room, plans already digging for a foothold in the swarming sting of rejection.

As she took heavy steps to the upper floor, Evelyn breathed a prayer for strength for what would come. She passed Hattie in the upper hall with a cursory nod, which the woman returned with a veiled expression. Did Hattie know of her heritage? Did she despise her for it as well?

Alone in her room, Evelyn gave a quick glance at her belongings, counted the currency she had in her reticule, and contemplated a risky decision. Perhaps Hattie would not have to tolerate her for long.