19. Missing

1864 JUNE 1, WEDNESDAY

19

Pa looked up from the ledger on his desk. The gaslight cast shadows, accentuating the fatigue on Pa's face. His gray hair stood on end, and he rubbed his whiskers. An open decanter sat beside his coffee, and I wondered if that was how he always preferred his coffee.

His lips thinned, seeing me eye the liquor.

"You may need this today more than I," he said, pushing the mug toward me.

I raised my brows. Pa jerked his chin to go ahead, and I brought the mug to my lips. Bitter coffee washed over my tongue, the bite of whiskey hitting the back of my throat. I coughed, then gulped more—anything to give me strength.

"Some people find profit in war, and that is all Ethan saw in it. A way to profit and a way to get what he wanted." Pa's brow furrowed.

I offered the mug back to him, but he shook his head, so I took another sip.

"I noticed shortly after your engagement that munition orders were missing, and the outgoing shipments did not equate with what our government contract entailed." His fingers fiddled on the desk. "I realized then that my signature was on several forms to individuals not part of our contract. Not Ethan's signature, but mine. In my negligence, I was approving guns and ammunition to profiteers—for Rebels. He was supplying them while supplying our own troops."

The blood drained from my face, and Pa gestured for me to take another drink.

"He can't get away with this, Pa." Anger boiled in my chest.

"He already has, daughter."

"How could he do this to you? You've been nothing but loyal to his family and his father's company."

Pa shook his head. "The Harris men are full of pride, greed, and vengeance. Woodhue was promised to Ethan once, but in spite of that, Mr. Harris gave it to me. He was angry at both of his sons—his eldest for selfishly throwing his life away, and his youngest for his arrogance. Ethan has always been bitter, blaming me for taking what he thought he was entitled to. I don't attempt to understand the workings of his mind."

I remembered something then … something Anna had told me months ago.

"Emilyn Murphy? Do you know what happened between her and Jeffrey Harris?

"Rumors, my dear. Rumors Mr. Harris wanted to put to bed. He knew Ethan would drain him of what wealth he had left. On his deathbed, he asked me to safeguard his legacy. Ethan discovered some of the fortune was not for him. I put it into the Ironworks, believing Mr. Harris would have wanted it to prosper. I hoped one day Ethan would be worthy to take control of the company. When I'd discovered Ethan's profiteering, he blackmailed me to secrecy. He threatened to ruin me, to turn me over to the authorities—after all, my signature was on the orders—if I didn't turn a blind eye. I did as he said because I was a coward. I worried what this would do to your mother. She warned me years ago not to accept Mr. Harris's money or take claim of the company, least of all Woodhue. But when I finally told her what I'd done, she was more concerned about what this would do to our family's reputation than what Ethan may do."

"She found out while I was in Gettysburg?"

He nodded. "When we found Ethan drunk in the tavern, he was angry and delirious. Saying some nonsense about a curse and that he would end anyone who stood in his way. He threatened right then in the street to shout I was a traitor. Federal troops had pushed the Rebels out and were still patrolling the streets. I was scared. But then, he also threatened your life. He threatened to find you and force you to marry him, or he'd kill you. He was nonsensical and dangerous that night."

I shuddered, taking a large gulp of the whiskey-laced coffee. Red-hot panic washed over me. What was this curse he was drunkenly claiming? It itched in the back of my mind. Had he said it to me that one night when he forced himself on me?

"When Mathis and I had escorted him out of York, he warned he would come back for you. That he would return for me if he learned I betrayed him."

"You shouldn't be telling me this, Pa." I looked behind me at the closed door, worried someone was listening.

"You need to know because I don't know how much longer I can protect you. We haven't known Ethan's whereabouts for a while now. This may all catch up to us—to me. I don't know how it couldn't. I have already spoken to your grandmother about sending Elizabeth to live with her."

"Pa, you can't!"

"I must. She will be safe there. Your grandmother will dote on her. Elizabeth is a vibrant and amenable child. She will do well under your grandmother's guidance."

Pain etched his face, and I knew this was destroying him. I had to relent and make this easy for him, give him some sort of peace.

"Thank you for telling me, Pa. I'll do what I can to protect myself, and I know you'll do what you need to do to protect us. Please promise me something, though?"

"I will try, daughter."

"Promise me that when this war is over—when this is all bloody over—we'll be together again."

He closed his eyes and repeated my words. "We'll be together again … one day."

I did not know if he was lying to me, but I took him at his word because I wanted to believe him.