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  “Mrs. Wilson, can I offer you a ride somewhere?” Dr. Kennedy walked up behind her, his face softened with compassion.

  She shook her head and swiped at the tears gathering in her eyes.

  Dr. Kennedy took her by the arm. “Come. Mrs. Kennedy will make us some tea, and you can visit with your children.”

  Any other time, Rosemarie would have appreciated the aroma of fresh baked bread and simmering stew from the pot on the stove in Mrs. Kennedy’s kitchen. As it was, it took all her willpower not to run to the privy and empty her stomach.

  “Dear, I believe Mrs. Wilson could use a good, strong cup of tea.” The doctor pulled out a chair for Rosemarie and indicated she should sit.

  Mrs. Kennedy glanced at Rosemarie and tsked. “Oh, my. Yes, let’s have some tea. Then maybe you could eat a little bit of supper with us.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate your kindness.” Rosemarie slumped in her chair, then abruptly stood. “I need to see to my children.”

  “They’re all sleeping, nice and peaceful-like.”

  Rosemarie smiled at the woman. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ll just take a peek at them.”

  Her eyes filled again at the sight of her three children, all asleep, faces dotted with red marks. Although it had never seemed likely, given their differences and the war, Daniel would have made a wonderful father to them. He had so much patience with all their questions and requests.

  She moved into the room and smoothed back the curls from Amelia’s face. How grateful the little girl had been for having scrambled eggs instead of oatmeal. And Chandler. She gently touched his cheek. So proud to be hunting, providing food for the family, as Daniel had explained was his duty. Soon her little boy would be turning into a young man. He would need the guidance of a strong, capable man to help him along that path.

  Jace whimpered and she hurried to his side.

  “Thirsty.”

  Rosemarie eased his head up and encouraged him to drink from the cool glass of water Mrs. Kennedy had left on the table alongside his cot. Like his brother and sister, he no longer burned with fever.

  “How do you feel, honey?” She settled him in and smoothed the colorful patchwork quilt.

  “Sleepy,” Jace mumbled as he rolled over and closed his eyes.

  “Sleep is the best thing for them.” Dr. Kennedy entered, his confident presence filling the room. “Your tea is ready.”

  Rosemarie stood and smoothed her skirts. While dealing with her children, she’d forgotten about Daniel for a minute. But it all came rushing back as she followed the doctor down the hallway to the kitchen. Mrs. Kennedy had set the table with tea things, and bowls of stew and fresh bread.

  Although her stomach had previously roiled at the thought of food, Rosemarie suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten anything since supper the night before. Maybe a little bit of food would restore her and help her come up with a plan to save Daniel.

  The first few bites of the fragrant stew brought her hunger back full force. The three of them chatted amiably while they consumed the stew and made good use of the bread. Leaning back in her chair, Rosemarie took a sip of the tea, a full stomach relaxing her for the first time that day.

  “Mrs. Wilson, if you’re going to help Lt. McCoy, you’re going to have to come up with a plan.”

  Rosemarie closed her eyes and nodded at the doctor. “I know, and I’ve been wracking my brains trying to think of something.” She sat forward, her hands in her lap. “The only thing I can think of is going to Camp Morton in the morning and pleading with the Fort Commander.”

  Dr. Kennedy shook his head. “Colonel Ambrose Stevens is in charge of Camp Morton, and I’ve heard the man is out of the state right now. It seems he was called to Washington.”

  Rosemarie drained her tea cup and turned to Mrs. Kennedy. “I would like to attempt a visit to the jailhouse again. But first I’d like to feed my children, if that is acceptable to you.”

  “Of course, dear. I think something light on their stomachs would go well.” She spoke to Dr. Kennedy. “How about a bit of beef broth for the young ones?”

  “That’s an excellent suggestion. It will build up their strength and not tax their systems.”

  After spending time spooning broth into their mouths, Rosemarie read them a few stories, and soon all three children were nodding off. She tucked them in, kissed each one on the forehead, and headed to the hallway. Dr. and Mrs. Kennedy sat in the parlor, she with her knitting while the doctor read the newspaper.

  Despite the twinges of fear in her stomach, Rosemarie enjoyed the peacefulness of the Kennedy parlor. A fireplace glowed, with enough heat to warm the room. The doctor and his wife had been married many years, and raised four boys, who now were off, living their own lives. The companionship the couple presented brought a hitch to Rosemarie’s heart. She and Daniel could have this. Would they be together like this many years from now, or would she forever mourn what never was?

  “The children are all settled down and off to sleep.” Rosemarie swallowed against the thickness in her throat.

  Mrs. Kennedy put down her knitting and regarded her. “Please return after your visit to the jail. The doctor and I would love for you to spend the night here with us.”

  “You are very kind,” Rosemarie said.

  “If you stop by the kitchen before you leave, I wrapped a package for Lt. McCoy.”

  “Thank you so much.” She gathered the tea towel with bread, cheese and fruit inside, and left the house.

  The celebration of the war’s end continued, the saloon seeming to be the focal point of the festivities. Rosemarie pulled the borrowed shawl from Mrs. Kennedy tight around her body and hurried past the revelers, covering the distance from the doctor’s house to the jail quickly. From half a block away, the building that housed Daniel appeared dark and quiet. Her breathing hitched. Had Captain Nelson changed his mind and traveled to the Camp tonight instead of in the morning? She ran the last few steps and pulled on the Sheriff’s door. Locked.

  Completely panicked now, she pounded on the door and was greeted with silence. Her mouth went dry. “Daniel!”

  The only sound continued to be the shouting and laughter from the saloon. Rosemarie moved around the building until she spotted a small window with bars. “Daniel?”

  “Who’s there?”

  She slumped with relief at the sound of his voice. “It’s Rosemarie. I’ve brought you some food.”

  “Wait a moment. I’ll drag this cot over so I can see you.”

  After a few minutes, Daniel’s face appeared in the window, bathed in moonlight. “Honey, you shouldn’t be here. The town’s in an uproar tonight because of the war ending. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be on the streets. And I told you it’s useless. You should be with the children.”

  “And I told you this afternoon, Lt. Daniel McCoy, I’m not giving up. And the children are fine. Well, almost fine. They all have chicken pox.”

  “What?” He gripped the bars on the window. “Where are they? Who’s with them?”

  She smiled. “Calm down. They’re all three at Dr. Kennedy’s house. They’re doing fine, Mrs. Kennedy tells me. The doctor doesn’t anticipate any problems with them.”

  Daniel dragged his hand down his face. “Thank God.”

  “I’ve brought you some food. Have they fed you?”

  He shook his head. “I think the sheriff is too busy keeping the peace over at the saloon to worry about feeding a man who’s to be hung in the morning.”

  “Stop saying that!” The panic in her voice surprised her. “We will get you out.”

  “Darlin’, you need to face this. Captain Nelson is personally anxious to see me swing. He’s a man who doesn’t like to be made a fool of, and escaping from his prison, and then stealing one of his horses right from under his nose doesn’t sit well.”

  “Here, take this.” Rosemarie shoved the wrapped food between the bars, her hand shaking.

  “Maybe you should have brought a saw
.” He chuckled.

  Her eyes grew wide. “Can we do that?”

  “No, Rosemarie.” He set the package down and gripped the bars again. “Don’t involve yourself in anything like that. You have three children to think about.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and Daniel reached through the bars, clasping her hand. “Please don’t come here again. It kills me to see you and not be able to touch you, to hold you. I love you, and want so much to make you my wife, to help raise your children, and be there when you birth ours.” He swallowed a few times. “But it’s not meant to be. You must leave now, see to your children, and forget our time together.”

  “Never.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and shook her head. “I’ll never forget our time together. I love you, too, and refuse to believe we won’t be together again.”

  Daniel smiled briefly. “Go now. I want to remember you this way, standing in the moonlight, your beautiful face looking up at me.”

  “Daniel, please…”

  He jumped from the cot, disappearing from the window, and, she feared, from her life.

  Chapter Nine

  Daniel pushed aside the package of food, and lay on the cot, his mind numb with pain. The thought of hanging in the morning was not a pleasant one, but seeing Rosemarie and the suffering in her eyes, overshadowed even his impending death. How he ached to hold her, comfort her. Everything he’d ever wanted in a lifetime partner and lover, stood outside that window, a mere few feet from him. But she might as well have been on the other side of the world.

  “Good night, Daniel. I love you.” Her soft voice drifted through the window before her light footsteps moved away, leaving him choking on the silence.

  He sat up and hung his head, hands dangling between his bent knees. Even if he managed to escape, the only place he’d be safe was far away from Rosemarie. He could grab her and the three children and run, but with no land, or a way to earn a living, he’d be condemning them all to starvation.

  

  Heavy-hearted, Rosemarie left the jailhouse and continued on to Dr. Kennedy’s house. When Hans had succumbed to his injury back in November, she’d felt a kind of numbness, and a sense of abandonment. But certainly not this overwhelming feeling of loss, of having left part of herself behind. Panic raced through her. She had to find a way to avoid this disaster. After years of coldness from her father, and then Hans, she’d finally found a man who made her feel wanted and loved.

  “Evenin’ Mrs. Wilson.” The sheriff tugged on the brim of his hat as he approached her. He stopped and placed his hands on his hips. “Things are gettin’ a little bit boisterous tonight, what with everyone celebratin’ the end of the war. I don’t like you out walkin’ by yourself. Where ya headed?”

  “I’m staying with Dr. Kennedy and his wife. It’s just a few blocks.”

  “No matter, ma’am. I’ll walk along with you. Make sure you get where you’re headed with no problems.”

  They continued on, the early spring night air pleasant against her face. “Sheriff, can you do anything to help Lt. McCoy? Anything at all?”

  “Ma’am, I’m real sorry about your trouble, but seeing as how he’s a military man, and the charges against him are from the Union army, there’s not a heck of a lot I can do.”

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Is there anything you suggest I do?”

  “Maybe if you went to Camp Morton and talked to the commander?”

  “No.” She turned to him. “He’s been called to Washington. Right now Captain Nelson is in charge.”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t know what else to say. You need someone higher up than Nelson.” He took his hat off, ran his fingers through his hair, and tugged it back on. “Captain Nelson sure seems to have it in for McCoy. Almost like it’s personal.”

  “It is.” She winced. “Lt. McCoy came to my farm after escaping from Camp Morton. I was suffering with an injury that would have killed me if it weren’t for his arrival right then. He saved my life.

  “Then he stayed to help with the chores until I recovered. One day Captain Nelson and a few of his men arrived at my farm. They were searching for Lt. McCoy. The Captain got a bit antagonistic in his questioning, so Lt. McCoy left the hiding place I sent him to and stole one of Captain Nelson’s horses to distract him.”

  The sheriff let out with a low whistle. “That must’ve made him mad.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  They arrived at the doctor’s house, and the sheriff turned to her. “I sure wish I could help you. The little bit of contact I’ve had with the Lieutenant convinces me he’s a good man. But there isn’t anything I can do.”

  “I understand. Thank you for seeing me home.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” He tugged on the brim of his hat and turned to head back to town, crossing over the street in the direction of the saloon, where the noise had grown.

  Rosemarie climbed the few stairs, and was greeted by Mrs. Kennedy, who had opened the door as if she’d watched for her.

  “How is Lt. McCoy?”

  “Reconciled to his fate.”

  The doctor’s wife patted Rosemarie’s arm. “Come into the parlor with the doctor and me. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”

  The last thing Rosemarie wanted was to sit in the parlor and watch the doctor and his wife eye her with pity.

  “I’ll take a look at my children first.”

  “Fine, dear. You do that, and then join us.”

  Jace’s fever had risen a bit, but Chandler and Amelia slept on peacefully. After requesting a pan of cool water, Rosemarie bathed Jace until the little boy settled down again. Mrs. Kennedy had made a paste that she’d put on the children’s pox marks which seemed to sooth them. After applying the mixture once again to Jace, she kissed all three children on the forehead and returned to the parlor.

  Dr. Kennedy folded his newspaper and laid it aside. “Mrs. Kennedy tells me your young man is not feeling hopeful.”

  Rosemarie shook her head and settled on the settee alongside the doctor. “Afraid not. And I’m terrified the morning will come before I think of something to help.”

  Her gaze shifted to the newspaper resting on the cushion. She scanned the headline. Governor Morton had issued a statement praising the Union Army and hoping for a quick re-joining of the Confederate states. She picked up the paper and began to read. The governor had given a speech in front of the Capitol building in Indianapolis. She smiled. Her former boss loved giving speeches.

  We are happy to see the conflict come to an end. With my fellow Americans, I mourn the loss of so many brave men who gave their lives to keep the country intact. I also mourn the deaths of the brave men who fought with the Confederacy, believing their cause to be noble and right…

  She skimmed the article, reading further down where the reporter added his own comments.

  Although the Governor backed President Lincoln’s war measures, he had always denounced excessive military arrests, resisted the draft, and freeing Southern slaves until the president issued his emancipation proclamation on January 1, 1863…

  Rosemarie’s heart banged against her chest and her mouth dried up. Governor Oliver Morton, the man she worked for years ago. The man who attempted to talk her father out of marrying her off at such a young age. Who’d taught her to read and write. He had been her champion then, and could be now.

  She burst from the settee as if shot from a cannon. Mrs. Kennedy’s head snapped up and she grabbed her throat. “What is it, dear?”

  “Governor Morton!”

  “What about the governor?” Dr. Kennedy regarded her with wide eyes.

  “He…he.” She swallowed several times. “He can help me.”

  The doctor rose and gently pushed Rosemarie back onto the settee. “You’ve become quite pale, Mrs. Wilson, you need to calm down.” He eased her head between her knees and patted her back. “Take a deep breath, and then tell us what you mean.”

  “I’m f
ine” she batted his hand away and stood again. “I worked for the governor when I was a young girl. I lived at his home, and he was always fond of me, treated me like a daughter in some ways. When my father arrived to tell me about my arranged marriage, Governor Morton gave him a tongue lashing.”

  She bent and picked up the newspaper. “It says here that Governor Morton has always been against excessive military arrests.”

  Rosemarie turned to them, both members of her audience staring at her with slack jaws. “Don’t you see? He might be able to stop Daniel from hanging.”

  “But, the hanging is tomorrow, and the governor is in Indianapolis, a three hour ride from here,” the doctor protested.

  “I don’t care. I have to try. This is my only chance, don’t you see?” She used her index finger to wipe tears from her eyes.

  Mrs. Kennedy stood and embraced her. “Of course we understand, dear. Were I in your place, I’d do the same for Dr. Kennedy.”

  “Thank you,” Rosemarie whispered.

  “Well, if you’re making that trip in time to help Lt. McCoy, you need to get ready to go.” Dr. Kennedy stood and patted her on the shoulder. “You may use our horse, Mellow. That would be faster than a buggy.”

  “Yes, faster.” Her words came out breathless.

  “I’ll fix you a small meal to take with you.” Mrs. Kennedy quickly left the room.

  Dr. Kennedy frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you riding alone that distance.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s a straight road, and hardly anyone travels it at night.”

  “That’s precisely my problem with it.” He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll lend you my pistol to take with you.” He also hurried from the room, leaving Rosemarie pacing and wringing her hands.

  This has to work.

  She checked the cherry wood grandfather clock, taking up the entire corner of the Kennedy’s parlor. Fifteen minutes past eleven. If all went as she planned, she’d arrive at the governor’s mansion in the middle of the night. Should she wait? Leave closer to dawn? If only she knew what time Captain Nelson planned on departing in the morning.

  No, she couldn’t take the chance. Even if she had to wake the governor from his bed.