Northern Star

Chapter 8

The sound of gunfire rattling the kitchen windows woke Perry with a violent start. She jumped up and ran across the cold floor to stand beside Molly at the window. They could see little, except the garden, but they could hear yelling and the frightening noises of people running frantically. Though the garden stood peaceful in the first light of day, the sounds of chaos raged just beyond the wall, threatening like Gabriel's horn to crumble all barriers.

"Molly, are they fighting in the streets?" Perry shouted over the noise. Panic gripped her. After everything else, was she to be caught in the middle of this war?

Molly's face was gray with fright, but she chewed at her lip with a curiosity no fear could contain. "I'll go find out. Stay here, child," Molly ordered as she wrapped a colorful shawl around her bulk and hurried out the door.

Perry dressed quickly and began braiding her long black hair. If there was fighting, it would be better to be ready to move as soon as Molly returned. Perry's mind was racing, trying to think of somewhere to run. She knew nothing of this town or where safety might lie. If war was in the streets, could she make it the three blocks to Hunter, or would her odds be better if she stayed with Molly? If the South took Philadelphia, Hunter would need her, but if the North won, she might need him. A thousand questions ran through her mind. How could the army be so close? How could they be strong enough to take a city of this size? She needed time to think, but the noise outside made rational thought impossible.

Perry was stuffing her hair into her hat when the door burst open. Molly stumbled in, out of breath and dragging her shawl behind her. Her white gown was covered with splattered mud. Holding a hand over her chest and taking a few gulps of air, she let out a howl that would have put a lumberjack to shame. Then she plopped atop Perry's mattress and shouted, "The war's over, honey. Lee surrendered at Appomattox yester-day."

The war was over! She could go home. She hugged Molly and they danced around the kitchen, both laughing and crying at the same time. Her brother would be coming home! Somehow they would rebuild Ravenwood.

As she danced, Perry realized there was no need for her to hide behind this horrid disguise. She threw her hat across the room and shouted for joy. Both women danced and hugged until they fell back exhausted on the bed. They knew there had been no winner in this war within their nation. The joy of this day lay in the ending of the misery.

Molly made a delicious breakfast. She fried a mound of eggs in fresh butter, exclaiming repeatedly that there would no longer be shortages. She cut thick slices of salted pork and chopped it into the eggs, making a feast.

As they ate, Perry found herself doing all the talking. She told Molly all about the past week and her travels. She described Hunter in detail and in so doing felt a sudden longing to see him. When she finally slowed down, Molly stood up abruptly.

She folded her arms over her ample breasts and smiled down at Perry. "Well, now that you don't have to wear them clothes, why don't we make you somethin' to wear when this Hunter comes for you?" She grabbed Perry's hand and pulled her toward the main house. "I was rummaging through some trunks up in Henry's attic the other day and saw dresses that might give us somethin' to start with. They must have belonged to his wife. She died several years ago, so they ain't doing nothing but rotting up there."

"Are you sure you can spare the clothes, Molly?" Perry asked, wishing she could offer to buy them.

"Lord, child, I have no need for a dress with a waist as big around as my leg. Henry always said I was twice the woman his wife was. After seeing her clothes I'd have to agree." Molly laughed as she unlocked the back door to the main house.

Molly moved inside. "Folks 'round here used to call him Haunted Henry, him livin' in this big house all alone. He wouldn't even have servants after his wife died. In his youth he ran a slave ship. Folks say he was haunted by all those slaves that never survived the crossing with him. They say the evil he and his partner did drove his partner so crazy, he disappeared.

"I, myself, never called him Haunted Henry, though." Molly laughed. "I used to call him Horny Henry, but toward the end that, I'm afraid, was only a haunting memory too." A chuckle babbled from Molly.

Perry laughed as she stepped inside the main house. To her surprise the rooms were fully furnished. Cobwebs hung everywhere, draping the interior in gray. Many of the larger pieces of furniture were covered with white sheets, giving each room a ghostly appearance. The thick drapes and fine, imported rugs were rotting and layered with dust. This had once been a lovely home, before years of neglect had slowly smothered each room, robbing the wood of any glow and stealing strength from the colors.

Dusting webs away, Molly moved to the stairs. "I let my Herschel in here every now and then. He keeps the mice away.'' A dreamy look of longing crept into her face as she added, "You'll think I'm a fool, but I come in here sometimes and pretend I'm a grand lady waiting for a dinner guest to come."

Perry stated, matter-of-factly, "You are a grand lady, Molly."

Molly smiled down at her from the stairs. "Thank you, child. I'll treasure them words." Then she was gone in a whirl of dust.

Perry hurried to keep up with her as they climbed to the attic. For an old woman, Molly had a light step, and her arm was strong as she pulled the attic door open. As Perry stepped through the opening she was shocked to see trunks everywhere. Most of them looked as if they had sat unopened for years. The large attic was covered with a lifetime of clutter.

Moving to a trunk, she jerked up the lid. Within minutes both women were surrounded with dresses and laughter. Old Henry's wife must have loved spending money on clothes, Perry thought, for she had more than ten women needed.

They spent the morning trying on outfits and sewing. They found a few dresses in good shape. The styles were classic, so they needed little alteration.

By mid-afternoon, three clean dresses and a light coat hung in the kitchen in front of Perry. Freshly washed underclothes lay on the table with a pair of black boots that fit Perry as if they had been made for her. Even before the war her father never allowed more than one or two dresses each season. These were more clothes than Perry could ever remember seeing at one time.

Molly giggled like an old maid when the orchestra leader announces ladies' choice. "Let's try them out, honey. I wish we could've found some bright colors, but these will do. Put this green one on and go visit your handsome captain at the hospital." She lifted the dark forest-green dress and lay it across the bed. The rich folds were made to fit snugly at the waist and blouse wide at each elbow, reminding Perry of a dress a lady might have worn in the days of knights and dragons. They'd polished the row of gold buttons decorating the front and each sleeve.

An hour later Perry stared at herself in a small mirror that hung on the wall. The dark green velvet flattered her lovely ivory skin and brought out the brown in her eyes. Molly had arranged her tresses in braids encircling her head, a green velvet ribbon woven into her dark halo of hair. Perry could hardly believe her reflection. For the past few years she'd been too worried about money and crops to think of frills.

Molly beamed with pride. "I knew you was a lady the minute I got close to you. You look wonderful. As grand as any I've ever seen. I'll walk with you as far as the hospital doors. Wouldn't be proper for a lady like yourself to walk alone."

Perry nodded, laughing inwardly at Molly's sudden concern about respectability. She'd spent the past week in the unchaperoned company of men, but now, in a dress, she was a lady.

Before leaving, Perry slipped her knife into her dress pocket. She knew she would carry it until she was safe at home once more. Somehow, like Hunter's necklace, the knife had become a part of her.

The two women made an interesting sight as they strolled the twilight streets. Molly walked tall, proud to be with Perry, but at the hospital steps she refused to go any farther. She wanted to wait outside and walk Perry back home, but Perry convinced her that Abram would see her safely through the streets. She didn't know how long she would be visiting Hunter, and the streets were too wild tonight for Molly to wait by the hospital door.

Molly disappeared into the evening shadows as Perry walked alone from the front door to the main desk. Tonight the desk was cluttered with bottles and empty glasses from the morning's celebration. The same young orderly who'd been on duty last night stood politely as she neared. She noted he'd been drinking his share, and more. His smile was lopsided, and he kept trying to straighten it with a hand that refused to cooperate.

He halt bowed as he spoke. "May I help you, m'lady?"

Perry refused to offer even a small smile to the lad. "I wish to see Captain Hunter Kirkland."

''Yes, miss." The orderly hurried to usher her down the hall. "You'll have to excuse the mess. We've been celebrating the war's end, you know."

Perry said nothing, hoping to discourage conversation. She didn't want to talk to this half-drunk young man. He might be polite now, but she remembered his cruel words to Molly all too clearly. As she turned the corner she saw Abram leaving a room. He held his hat in one hand and several envelopes in the other.

"Thank you, orderly, I'll be fine from here." Perry dismissed him before moving closer to Abram. The huge black man stood still, studying Perry as she approached.

"Good evening, Abram," she whispered, watching his face for the reaction to her new clothes.

"Good evening, Miss Perry." Abram spoke as he kept an eye on the orderly, slowly moving out of earshot. The huge black man calmly slid the envelopes he carried into his breast pocket and patted them softly as if ensuring their safety.

With the orderly gone, a smile widened to cover Abram's face. "You're a beauty, Miss Perry, a real beauty," he said as he watched her turn before him. There was almost a fatherly pride in his statement. "I never would have dreamed you'd clean up so nice."

"I've met the nicest woman, Abram. She gave me all this," Perry answered, thinking he was referring to the clothes, "just so I could come to the hospital tonight."

"I wanted to bring you this tonight," Abram whispered as he pulled a pouch from his pants pocket. "There's enough money to get you by a few days until we can decide what to do."

"Oh, no! I can't accept money from you."

"Consider it a loan from Hunter. Just till you're back home." Abram wouldn't take no for an answer. He knew she would need some money, and he wasn't about to see her beg on the streets until he could keep his promise to her brother and get her safely home. "If Hunter were able, he'd say the same thing."

Concern filled her, washing her cheeks pale against her dark eyes. "How is Hunter?"

"He's been awake most of the day, talking with some top brass. I just left him sleeping," Abram answered.

A sigh of disappointment escaped from Perry. "May I look in on him for a moment?"

"Of course, Miss Perry. As soon as you slip this in your pocket." He held the money out to her once more and smiled as she did as he'd instructed. "Hunter's been given a drug to help him sleep, but you're welcome to visit." Abram opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. "I'll see that you're not disturbed. Take as long as you like." He slowly closed the door, leaving her and Hunter alone.

Timidly Perry moved to Hunter's bed. A single candle threw its yellow glow around the room. She watched Hunter's chest rise and fall in sleep. His hair half covered his sleeping eyes. She reached up and softly brushed it away so she could study his face one last time.

How could any man be so handsome? she thought. She may have saved his life, yet he added something new to hers. She'd never met a man who so fascinated her, whose slightest touch could make her blood run hot. She remembered the rainy night they'd spent in the plantation and how his words had made love to her. He'd given her one thing she'd never had: someone to dream about. Her body ached even now from the need to touch him.

Perry let her fingers drift down Hunter's cheek and touch his lips. Leaning over silently, she touched her lips to his lightly and the excitement thrilled her. She moved her palm to cup the side of his face, allowing her fingertips to brush his hair. He'd never know how much he'd added to her life. How in a moment of nightmares he'd given her the strength to go on, the hope to believe, the will to dream of another time besides war, another emotion besides hate.

Hunter moaned and his eyes opened slightly. Sleepy gray pools looked up at her as his lips thinned into a smile. He whispered, "Good night, my angel." Then he drifted back into sleep, as if her kiss were a nightly occurrence.

Perry's eyes widened in surprise. She remained only an inch from Hunter as she thought, He still doesn't think I'm real. He thinks he's dreaming. The idea intrigued her. She bent down again, touching her lips to his. Again she felt the warmth of his mouth, and a fire ran through her. She felt she was opening a door ever so slightly. If this were only a peek inside, think what must lie within. She allowed her lips to move slowly across his strong jawline. This night she must remember, for she might never see so clearly again.

Smiling, Perry lifted her head to look once again at Hunter's face. She couldn't say good-bye to him, for he would always be in her thoughts and dreams.

"Someday," she whispered in his ear. "Someday I'll lie next to you again. I know it in my heart."

Hunter gave no answer and Perry grew braver. "I'll visit you every day until I prove that I'm a real woman and not a dream." She slid her fingers along his bare shoulder, loving the feel of his tanned skin. "Someday you'll touch me with more than just your words."

As she leaned to brush her cheek against his, a knock sounded at the door. She reached the knob as the orderly met her. She avoided his eyes, not wanting him to interfere with her thoughts. "Where's Abram?" she whispered before he could speak, wondering why Abram had left his guard post.

"He got called away by some captain who stormed in like the devil were on his tail. They went off to yell at each other in the front office."

A tiny quiver of panic touched Perry's heart and she glanced around, half expecting to see Captain Wade Williams storming toward her with a hangman's noose swinging from his belt.

The orderly misread her frown and smiled a silly grin. "Now don't worry, miss. We'll have him ready to move to your house first thing tomorrow morning. When the doctor told me Captain Kirkland's fiancee was going to take him to her parents' home to recover, I never thought you'd come tonight."

Looking at the orderly for the first time, she stated, "Sir, I'm not Captain Kirkland's fiancée." Her words seemed to slap the orderly sober. His eyebrows raised in surprise and interest.

A commotion at the front desk saved Perry from any questions. A young woman and a man were arguing loudly in the center of the hallway. Their shouts echoed up and down the quiet halls likes cries through a canyon. As the orderly approached, the woman raised delicate gloved fingers toward him.

"Sir," she said, addressing the orderly, "would you be so kind as to show me Captain Kirkland's room." Sugar dripped from her words, a sharp contrast to what Perry had heard only moments before when she was arguing with her companion. The young woman was very beautiful, blond curls encircling her face. She was richly dressed and carried herself as one accustomed to luxury. Perry was reminded of a china doll she once had. All beauty and no warmth.

"You can't do this!" the man beside her yelled. "I won't have it, do you hear me? Not tonight."

The young lady turned on him. "I'm going to see Hunter. You have no right to tell me what you will and won't have. Tonight or any other night."

The man made an exasperated sigh. "All right, Jennifer, go see him. I'll wait for you in the carriage."

Jennifer smiled at him. "You always do, Richard." Though her voice was sweet, her words were venomous.

Perry slipped past the desk and the young couple. She was sure they could hear her heart breaking or see the tears bubbling from her eyes. Yet the two seemed wrapped in their own private war as Perry ran unnoticed the few feet to the entrance hall.

She didn't notice a young captain step from an office where he'd been talking to Abram. The captain raised a scarred eyebrow and followed her out of the hospital.