TWENTY-ONE

Beatrice sat down on the grass beside Jeremiah and opened their lunch pail. She handed him a thick slice of bread and two hard-boiled eggs. Lifting another egg from the pail, she cracked it on her knee and carefully removed the shell before taking a bite.

She glanced up at him. “Any progress?”

A muffled groan escaped his lips. “I get tired of that same question morning, noon, and night. Can’t we talk about something else?”

“You’re the one who was nagging me when I started work in the packing room. Damaging those cartridge shipments isn’t as easy as you thought it was going to be, is it?” She popped the remainder of the egg into her mouth.

“You need to shut your trap. You’re mighty big on badgering, but you’re short on ideas.” He pointed his index finger to his head. “You need to use that brain of yours and come up with some other ways we can get things done.”

“Since when do you need my help with ideas? You’re always telling me you know how to take care of things.” She removed a piece of bread and broke off a bite. “Now that nothing is working out, you expect me to find a way. Instead of pretending you had two or three schemes that would succeed, why didn’t you admit you weren’t sure of your plans?”

He glared at her. “Those plans have worked in other places, but there’s just too many folks around here all the time.” When she frowned, he relented. “Well, maybe they hadn’t been tried before, but it don’t matter anymore. Right now we gotta decide on something that will work.” His voice rose in intensity as he continued to speak. “You know the Gray Ghost expects to hear from all the Rangers every two weeks.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve got nothing good to report.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Jeremiah.” She stared off in the distance. “What about the gunpowder? Clara got Joseph to transfer you so you’d have access to the barrels. What was your idea with that?”

“I thought about mixing it with something else, but I don’t think that will work. Those barrels are already full, and it wouldn’t be possible to mix much into them. If I could get my hands on some saltpeter, I could try that. I think having too much in the mix could ruin the powder. I’m not sure, though.”

“Or the whole thing could blow up in your face.” She sighed and shook her head. “Anyway, where would you get enough saltpeter to put in all those barrels?”

“I know. I’m just thinking out loud.”

She wanted to say his thoughts weren’t worth the breath it took to speak them, yet that would only cause a fight. They needed a solution, not an argument. “What about getting it wet? Once it dries out, will it still fire?”

Jeremiah jerked to attention. “Water must damage the cartridges since they wrap the crates in that waterproof paper. Water! That’s our answer.” He leaned against the tree trunk. “I could start pouring water into the barrels as soon as they come from the warehouse. By the time they’d rotate for delivery to the laboratory, the powder would be dry.”

Bea shook her head. “That won’t work. The water will cause some of the powder to clump. The girls will notice right away because the powder won’t flow through the funnels. If you’re going to use water, it’s going to have to be after the cartridges are crated, but before they get wrapped in the waterproof paper.”

Jeremiah rested his chin on his bent knees. “That’s going to mean another transfer. I need to figure out how to make that happen.”

“You were hired to fill in whenever and wherever needed.” She hiked a shoulder and smirked. “Maybe one of the fellas working at the warehouse will have an accident.” Bea packed up the remnants of their food and stood. “Before you try to get transferred, you need to see if there’s any way you’ll be able to get the crates wet before they’re wrapped.” She looked down at her brother. “The only other solution is to make sure every boat carrying those cartridges sinks in the river.”

When he brightened at the remark, Bea frowned. “I was only joking, Jeremiah.” She extended her hand. “Get up. We need to get back to work.”

Two days later, Bea was sitting at their regular spot beneath the oak tree and pulled her cloak tight around her neck. They were going to need to find another place to eat their meals. Soon it would be too cold to sit outdoors. Many of the workers already remained inside during their breaks, but Jeremiah and Bea hadn’t yet given in to the changing weather.

Bea fastened her gaze on the grassy slope until Jeremiah appeared. Only then did she begin to unpack their lunch. He plopped down beside her and grinned. “Good news.”

“What’s that? Has General Lee given us another victory?”

Jeremiah quickly glanced around and touched his finger to his lips. “Keep your voice down, Bea. Do you realize what would happen to us if someone heard you say that?”

“I’ve been waiting here for five minutes and there’s no one else around, so don’t get yourself all worked up over nothing.” She slapped a sandwich into his hand. “So, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get things figured out.” He leaned sideways and tipped his head close to hers. “The boxes of packed cartridges are dated and taken from the lab over to the warehouse. They get stacked there and moved forward by date. About a week before it’s time to ship them, they get moved to the wrapping area, where that paper is put around them and they’re marked with the name of the Arsenal and date of shipment—that kind of thing.” He gave her a satisfied grin.

“So? What’s your plan?”

“As soon as those crates arrive in the warehouse, they can be wetted down and no one will notice. They sit at the back, and no one even goes back there until they start moving them forward. By the time they’re ready to move, the crates will be dry, but the cartridges should be ruined—at least most of them.”

“How are you going to get them wet without being seen?”

“There’s one fellow who works the night shift—just keeps an eye on things so they don’t have to use any of the soldiers. He hates being away from his family.”

Bea gave him a sideways glance. “How do you know that?”

“I have my ways.”

She nudged him in the side. “Tell me. I don’t want you doing anything foolish that’s going to get us both in trouble before we ever accomplish our goal.”

“You have no faith in me, do you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Joseph asked if I’d mind going over and helping at the warehouse. He said there was a shortage of men there, and he’d divide my duties among the other fellows in the freight yard if I’d go and help out. Of course, I agreed.” He shoved his napkin back in the pail. “Turns out the fella who works the night shift had to stay because they didn’t have enough help. We got to talking, and he told me how the place works. I told him I wouldn’t mind working the night shift. If this all works out, I’d say you could break off your friendship with the sergeant. As far as I can tell, he’s been useless.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve rather enjoyed his company.” Jeremiah scowled so deeply, she giggled. “And don’t forget that if it weren’t for Andrew, you wouldn’t have met that friend in the park who taught you to play chess. Besides, we can’t be certain he won’t be useful at some point in the future. It’s better to keep him on the string.”

Jeremiah frowned and stood. “You best be keeping your head on straight. He may be a nice enough fella, but Andrew’s a sergeant in the Union Army. I think you should end things with him now.”

“And I said no. Andrew thinks of me as more than a friend. He’s been a perfect gentleman and hasn’t done anything improper. If I tell him I no longer want him to call on me, he’s not going to understand and it could create problems. His attempts to set things aright between us will mean he’ll be around even more.” She walked alongside him as they neared the laboratory. “You need to listen to me about this. I know more about how he’ll behave than you do. Trust me, he won’t give up easily.”

“Fine! I’m not going to argue about it, but you need to let him know that I’m going to be working nights so he can’t be coming around all the time. That’s excuse enough to keep him away most of the time.”

She nodded. “If you get the position working nights, I’ll be sure to tell him.”

As they parted ways, she knew Jeremiah wasn’t happy with her, but she truly didn’t care. What he’d said was correct. Her relationship with Andrew hadn’t proven valuable to their cause. However, it had been nice for her. It had been far too long since she’d been courted, and she wasn’t yet willing to give it up. Not for Jeremiah, and not for the cause. Such a sacrifice simply wasn’t necessary—at least not yet.

Clara stood in front of the cheval mirror in Mrs. Ludwig’s bedroom and slowly turned. The boardinghouse keeper had insisted Clara come downstairs and see herself in the freestanding dressing mirror. Clara’s mother, scissors in hand, lowered to her knees and snipped several loose threads along the hem and one of the flounces.

Mrs. Ludwig clasped a hand to her bosom and sighed. “You are absolutely beautiful, my dear. And to think Mrs. Seward gave you that lovely gown. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as stunning as you.” She encircled Mrs. McBride’s waist and drew near. “You must be very proud of your daughter.”

Her mother nodded. “Yes, but more so because of who she is inside rather than her outward appearance. Although I must agree that she looks beautiful.” She captured her daughter’s gaze in the mirror. “The lilac shade brings out the green in your hazel eyes.” She stepped to Clara’s side and smiled. “Come along. Before I departed this afternoon, Mrs. Seward gave me a band of lilac velvet for your hair. I believe we have enough time for me to weave it into your curls.”

Clara glanced over her shoulder as she lifted her skirts to climb the stairs. “I do hope this party won’t be as awkward as I anticipate. While I appreciate Mrs. Seward’s gesture, it has given me no pleasure. My stomach has been churning all day. The mere thought of walking into their home and being announced has my nerves on edge. I fear I’ll embarrass myself and Joseph.”

They entered the bedroom, and her mother gestured for her to sit in the chair. “I know you don’t want to go, Clara, and I’m sorry I forced this upon you.”

A tear shone in the corner of her mother’s eye, and Clara immediately gathered her in an embrace. “Oh, Mother, forgive me. I am so sorry that I’ve continued grumbling. I know how important it is to keep your clients happy. And I understand that Mrs. Seward believes she’s given us a lovely gift.” Clara lowered onto the chair. “Most young ladies would be delighted to have such an offer. Who knows what will happen? We may have a wonderful time.” She chuckled. “And I may discover fancy parties hold far more excitement than I could ever anticipate, though I’m doubtful that will occur.”

Her mother bent forward and brushed a kiss on Clara’s cheek. “I’d better hurry or Joseph will arrive before I’ve finished with your hair.” She positioned the ribbon across Clara’s forehead. “Hold it in place while I lace the ends through your curls. Mrs. Seward gave me detailed instructions on how to fashion the ribbon through your hair, so I hope this is correct.” Her mother handed her a small mirror. “You can watch to make certain you like what I’m doing.”

Clara held the mirror with one hand and pressed the lilac ribbon to her forehead with the other while her mother carefully laced the velvet trim through her chestnut-brown curls. She hadn’t before noticed that her mother’s fingers, once long and straight, no longer stretched to their full length and revealed knobby protrusions at some of the joints. Why hadn’t she noticed before this? No wonder her mother would take a few minutes to massage her hands throughout the day.

Glancing over her shoulder, Clara held her mother’s gaze. “Do they hurt?”

“What? My fingers?”

Clara nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to sew all the time.”

“They ache when the weather changes or when I’ve been sewing for a long time, but it happens with age. Take a look at Mrs. Ludwig’s hands and you’ll see hers are the same.” Her mother smiled. “And she doesn’t sew.” She stood back and gave Clara’s hair an admiring look and squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t you fret about my hands. Just go to the gala and try to have a good time. If need be, you and Joseph find a quiet place and enjoy your time with each other.”

Clara stood and embraced her mother. “Thank you. I’ll remember what you’ve said, and I’d like you to rest for the remainder of the evening. None of your other orders are pressing. Promise me you won’t work tonight.”

“I promise. Now, gather your cloak and reticule. I believe I hear Mrs. Ludwig talking to Joseph.”

After kissing her mother on the cheek, Clara collected her belongings and walked to the top of the stairs. Joseph stood in the entry beside Mrs. Ludwig. He looked up as she descended the stairs. With each step she took, his smile grew wider.

A glow of appreciation shone in his eyes, and he extended his hand to her when she approached the bottom step. “You look beautiful.” He took her cloak from her arm. “Let me help you into your cloak. Our carriage is waiting.”

She turned as he draped the cloak across her shoulders and then led her down the front steps while Mrs. Ludwig continued to cluck her good wishes. Once inside the carriage, Clara giggled. “With all the good wishes Mrs. Ludwig was sending our way, you’d think we just got married.”

Joseph smiled. “I can only wish that were true.”

The heat rose in Clara’s cheeks. Did he think she was attempting to be coy and put ideas in his head? She struggled to think of a response that would negate such an impression, but nothing came to mind. After all, she too had spent a great deal of time thinking about what it would be like to be Joseph’s wife. She considered attempting an apology but decided that might make matters worse. She needed a change of topic.

“You look quite handsome in your uniform. Did any of the other officers ask where you were off to?”

“Several of them. I think they were jealous and wanted to know how a fellow like me managed an invite to a fancy party.” He chuckled. “I said I wasn’t giving away any of my secrets, but I did tell them I was escorting the most beautiful woman in all of Washington. That was as much as they learned from me. I’m not about to give them an opportunity to steal you away from me. There are a few of them who are far more handsome than me.”

She clasped a hand over her heart and laughed. “I don’t believe that is possible, Lieutenant Brady.”

“Take my word for it—there are any number of fellows who wear a uniform and could easily turn a lady’s head.”

Clara’s smile faded. “Even if that’s true—and I’m not certain it is—I’m sure there isn’t another soldier at the Arsenal who is as kind and thoughtful as you. Those virtues are far more important to me than one’s appearance.”

“Thank you, Clara.” He covered her gloved hand with his own. “You’re shaking. Is something wrong?”

She forced a smile. “I’m nervous about the gala. I think I’ll be fine once we’re inside and we can disappear into the crowd.”

“Clara! You’re far too pretty to disappear in any crowd. Please don’t be anxious. I promise I’ll be right beside you, and I’m not going to let anything, or anyone, create a problem. Do you believe I can protect you?”

“Of course.” She longed to add that although she was sure he could protect her from physical harm, she wasn’t so sure he could protect her from unseemly remarks that would likely be whispered as they mingled with the other guests. Instead, she offered a weak smile and attempted to still her hands.

When the carriage stopped in front of the three-story brick edifice, Clara glanced out the window before stepping down. Fancy carriages lined the driveway leading to the Seward house. Most were owned by the attendees and would remain in place until after the party. Their own rented carriage would depart and return for them after the late dinner that would begin at midnight.

She held Joseph’s arm in a viselike grip as they arrived at the front of the receiving line. Once the butler announced them, they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Seward.

Secretary Seward appeared momentarily confused about their identity, until his wife mentioned Colonel Furman. At the mention of the colonel, a spark of recognition gleamed in the secretary’s eyes. “Ah, yes. I do remember who you are, Lieutenant. As I recall, the colonel mentioned you were injured at Bull Run. Am I correct?”

The color heightened in Joseph’s cheeks, and he bowed his head. “Yes, sir.” His answer was no more than a whisper.

Before Secretary Seward could say anything more, the butler announced another couple, and Clara walked alongside Joseph to the other side of the room. The gaslights flickered and cast eerie shadows along the walls. And though the night air was cool, the crush of guests warmed the room. The draped windows were ajar to cool the room, yet the chilly breeze prevented guests from lingering along the room’s outer circumference—the place where Clara had hoped to hide from view.

She need not have worried overly much, as the other guests walked by Joseph and her as though they were invisible. They’d been there only a short time when the music began and the Grand March was announced.

Joseph took her hand. “There’s no way to avoid the March. Just follow the ladies when we separate and then we’ll come back together. It’s really walking gracefully rather than dancing. You’ll do fine.”

Her heart beat like a drum as they lined up with the other guests. Clara was thankful they were near the end of the line so she had time to observe what those in front of her were doing. Each time she was forced to move away from Joseph, she was careful to keep him in sight. His movements were surprisingly graceful and his limp barely perceptible. In truth, she doubted a casual observer would notice it.

Once the Grand March ended, a quadrille was announced. Joseph nodded to the side of the room. “We won’t do that. Perhaps you’ll agree to a waltz a little later.” He tipped his head close. “It appears the secretary doesn’t enjoy the quadrille, either. He’s walking in our direction.”

Clara groaned inwardly. She hoped he wouldn’t want to discuss Bull Run. Surely he was aware that reminders of the battle would be difficult for any soldier, especially one who had been wounded. Clara was deep in her thoughts when a woman across the room screamed.

Joseph whirled, pushed Clara to the side, and bounded toward Secretary Seward. A shot rang out as both men fell to the floor.