Chapter 3

Adeline left her lodging as soon as there was enough morning light to navigate the worn path from Alexandria to the fort. She wanted to arrive early enough to see where they would be holding classes and to plan her lessons. She needed at least one of her schemes to go right. Yesterday had not been the start she wanted. Instead of spending her days in the freedman’s village, she was at the fort, away from the runaways, her best source of information.

Even her backup plan had failed. She had talked to the Hunters about letting her teach the children in the village while they went to the fort, but their argument was valid. There were only twenty men in Corporal Smith’s section. There were far more children, and two teachers would be better than one. She certainly couldn’t ask them to split up.

Another delay. Papa had waited too long, and now he was gone. He died with his dream of reuniting his family unfulfilled. The sweet man who had worked hard and loved equally as hard. Finding Mama and Michael wasn’t only her dream, but his as well.

And here she was, messing things up again.

As the chapel came into view, a figure stood outside. She slowed her pace. The man turned, and she recognized Corporal Smith. He stood with his shoulders back and carriage erect. He looked every part the solider. Does he ever relax?

He turned as she cleared the low brush around the chapel. He nodded to her. “Good morning, Miss Barris.”

“Good morning, Corporal. You’re here early.”

“I wanted to have a look at the place before I brought the troops over. I haven’t been inside yet.”

He motioned her toward the door, which appeared sturdy enough. He pushed it open for her and it creaked loudly on its hinges. It was dim inside, the rising sun starting to brighten the room through the dingy windows. It would warm once the sun fully rose. Chaplain Thomas was right. The pews remained intact, but the place was covered in dirt and dust.

The room was a sad sight that reflected her soul. It had been ages since she felt at peace in a church. She’d gone every Sunday with her father and then, when he passed, with the Hunters. Yet although her body went, her heart remained distant. She went there to find grace but found shame instead.

“This will do,” Corporal Smith said from behind her.

“It will, but it needs some cleaning.”

“The men are used to being in less than ideal conditions.”

She arched an eyebrow at his dismissive tone. “But I am not.”

His face flushed pink and he rubbed his chin. “Of course. I will have the men clean it.”

“That will give them a sense of ownership of the place.”

His expression hardened. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

She schooled her face into a pleasant look, even though she wanted to tell him to forget the lessons. He clearly didn’t want to be here. “Cleaning this place will show the men that something important is happening here.”

Corporal Smith turned sharply to face her. “We need to settle something right now. My men need all the time they can get to drill. This”—he waved his hand—“takes them away from that. You will teach them for no more than an hour a day.”

His words were hard. He was used to giving orders and people obeying them. “I cannot guarantee that until I get a sense of what the students know.”

“You have an hour.” Corporal Smith let out a harrumph and turned to the door. “I’ll bring them over.”

Adeline watched him go and then exhaled. This was a battle she didn’t want, especially since she didn’t want to be here either.

She looked around the small space. She had taught in a lot of places before, many times in the Hope Street Church. She walked all the way to the back of the room, counting the pews and formulating a plan. Chaplain Thomas said that the class would be around twenty men. There were plenty of pews for that. And enough space that each man could spread out and find his own space to work in. Only one thing was missing.

She scanned the far corners near the front where the daylight hadn’t quite reached. Ah. That’s what I need. A wooden pulpit sat in the corner. It would make the perfect desk. As she got closer, she saw it was sturdy but not too heavy for Corporal Smith to move it. He appeared to be as strong in body as he was in temperament.

The top was covered with dust. She tapped the podium with the side of her foot.

A loud screech cut through the air.

Adeline screamed, scooting backward until she was pressed against the wall. A raccoon scurried from the bottom shelf of the pulpit and raced out the door. Adeline didn’t move, hand still over her mouth, until the humor of the moment caused her to chuckle.

The sound of footsteps running thumped outside the chapel. In a flash of blue and gray, Corporal Smith barreled through the door, pistol drawn. “What’s wrong?” he panted. He scanned the room, posture tense, ready to fight.

She held up her hands, enjoying seeing him display an attitude other than annoyed. “There was a raccoon in there.” She pointed to the pulpit. “He ran out the door. He wasn’t interested in learning today.” She gave a soft chuckle.

He studied the pulpit, glanced out the door, then holstered his pistol. “I heard you scream.”

A blush warmed her cheeks and she ducked her chin. He’d come running to save her. “I am fine.”

He shifted out of the way as his men entered with mops and buckets of water. Adeline moved to greet them, her heart warmed by her protector. Maybe he had more emotions than dissatisfaction.

A raccoon.

Elim bit back a grumble. When Miss Barris’s scream cut through the morning quiet, he’d taken off running before he realized his feet were moving. He’d barreled into the room like a fool without knowing what enemy he was facing. How did that look to his men?

She stood before him with a smile on her face and what looked like admiration in her eyes. From their first meeting, he suspected that she thought he was the surliest man she’d ever met. Now, her look had softened, humor in her eyes. She had laughed when she explained what happened. A note of jealousy rang in his mind. How nice to be able to laugh at oneself.

He straightened his uniform, which had suddenly grown excessively hot, but Miss Barris stepped around him with a bright smile on her face and addressed his men. “Good morning.”

The men came to something that looked like attention. A few of them mumbled a “Good morning” in return. Elim gave them a stern look, and a strong, unified “Good morning” echoed through the chapel.

“Much better,” Elim muttered. He might not be able to teach them how to drill properly, but he could teach them to be courteous to a lady.

Miss Barris looked at their cleaning supplies. “Looks like you came ready to work.”

Work. The men were very much in danger of doing harder work than cleaning an abandoned chapel. They needed to improve, and quickly. Instead of drilling, however, they were here. Elim removed his jacket, placed it over one of the pails they’d brought in, and rolled up his sleeves. “Where should we start?”

Miss Barris clasped her hands in front of her. “The pews.”

The men took their jackets off and moved to the pews.

“Oh my.” Miss Barris leaned over the first pew. “This pew is so dusty that someone could write his name in it.” With a dainty finger, she traced a line of A’s down the length of the pew. When she was done, she motioned to the man nearest to her, Private Howard. “You try.”

Howard glanced at Elim, and Elim gave him a slight nod, although annoyance surged through him. The men weren’t here to play games. They were already sacrificing precious time with these reading lessons.

Howard stepped up and traced a line of A’s under the ones Miss Barris wrote. She moved beside him, giving him gentle instruction and correction. Once he was done, she motioned to the next man to follow suit. Elim watched, realization dawning on him.

She’d turned the pew into a chalkboard. Ingenious, but they would need a whole lot more pews to get the men reading and back to drilling. He folded his arms across his chest.

“Everyone take a turn. Those who have already done it, help your brothers,” she called to the men as she moved to stand behind the row. The soldiers covered the first two rows of pews with A’s, and she clapped. “Congratulations. You all have learned the letter A. Now you can clean these pews.”

While they did, she turned and wrote a line of B’s on the third row. Now that they understood what was happening, the men lined up and began writing B’s.

Miss Barris motioned to Elim to join her at the fourth pew. “Can you help write the letters on the rest of the pews?”

Elim frowned at her. “You assume I can read.”

A look of embarrassment colored her lovely brown cheeks. “I—”

He stifled a smile. “I can read, Miss Barris. Just so we are clear, I don’t agree with this.”

She paused in her writing. “With teaching the men to read?”

“There are many in this fort who can’t read, white and colored alike. They will all fare the same under a hail of bullets.”

Her posture became stiff and he could feel the heat of her anger rolling down the pew toward him. “So you think it’s better for them to die illiterate? Would that make their deaths more palatable?” Her voice was low and tight.

“I never said such a thing. I believe the most pressing lesson these men need to learn is how to fight. To live through a battle and prove their worth.”

She moved down the pew toward him, giving him a fine view of the fire in her eyes. “You think all the work that abolitionists and teachers do is worthless in the face of war? That is incredibly cruel thinking, Corporal.”

“Or realistic thinking,” he challenged. “How will these men benefit if they know how to read if they are captured? You think it will make a single ounce of difference when they are standing on an auction block?”

Miss Barris stared at him, her mouth slightly agape and one hand pressed to her heart. His own chest rose and fell in hard breaths. He licked his lips, not sure of how he’d gotten so worked up.

Miss Barris recovered before him and collected her skirts in a swish that stirred the dust around them. “Excuse me.” Her voice was tight as she moved past him to the next pew.

He stood there for a moment, watching her shoulders as she wrote the letter on the next pew. Her posture was so rigid that he wasn’t sure how she bent over. Once she calmed down, she would see his point. When she wasn’t so mad, he would try to explain to her that he understood the work people like her and the Hunters were doing, but it wouldn’t change the troops’ lives now. Maybe after the war. And there was the linchpin. If they didn’t win the war, then horrors untold would be awaiting educated slaves. The northern abolitionists were convinced that reading and education would give the men hope like some kind of magic. It was good that Miss Barris was here to see how things truly were.

By the time he and Miss Barris lettered all the pews—there were enough pews for A through H—the men had fallen into a rhythm of tracing the letters and then cleaning the pew.

Miss Barris came to stand beside him, her gaze cold and hard. “I need your help with one more thing. I’m going to use the pulpit as a desk. Could you move it for me, please?”

Elim easily lifted it to the place she’d indicated. “Is this where you want it?”

The fire was back in her eyes. “If this is such a useless endeavor, why are you helping with all this? Why not drop the men off and leave? Or wait outside?”

“Because I don’t disobey orders.”

She narrowed her eyes, turned her back to him, and began cleaning the pulpit in silence.

Elim felt the dismissal in her movements and left her to check on the troops. They, of course, were enjoying every second of their lesson. Probably because it got them out of drilling.

After the troops had cleaned the pews, she had them write the letters I and J on the windows before they cleaned them. Then they practiced more with brooms and mops on the floor. When they were done, the place looked like it was ready to be used as a schoolroom and a proper church. It reminded him of the church near his home. He shoved that thought away. Not home, but a place of bondage.

Miss Barris stood behind the newly cleaned pulpit. “Gentlemen, you did well today. Tomorrow we will begin in the primers.”

Most of the men beamed, but Elim didn’t join them. This was the first lesson, and although it appeared to go well, it could still go poorly from here. He took a look back at Miss Barris and saw the daggers in her eyes. Clearly, as far as she was concerned, things were already going poorly.