9. The Mathis Estate

1863 JULY 11, SATURDAY

9

Someone on the train called it "Rail City," the hub of the Vermont and Canada Railway. But it was distinctly more of a village than a sprawling town, for the characteristics of an old trading post still lingered. Farms and country cottages surrounded the outskirts, connected by roads and covered bridges over brooks, leading to Lake Champlain or the Green Mountains.

Men and women alike did not shy from staring at Katie and I as we disembarked. Looks of sympathy and curiosity followed us. You'd think they'd never seen a young widow, especially in these trying times. I bowed my head, hiding the embarrassment and panic that my lie would be discovered.

I asked the station clerk if he knew the way to the Mathis estate, and he directed me toward the Franklin County Bank across the street. "Ask there," he simply said. I nodded and left his brusque countenance behind.

At the bank, I found a tall, educated-looking man who appeared to be in his early thirties. He reminded me of what a professor may look like, although I had never met one. He had sharp features that drew your attention behind his small spectacles. His face was clean-shaven with ruddy cheeks. I told him I had just come into town, and I was hoping he could give me directions to the Mathis home. His eyes grew wide, looking down at me as if I were a child who had no business asking such a question.

"I'm married to the eldest Mathis daughter, Margaret. The name's Cole Smith. May I ask what business you have with the family?" His tone was not coarse, but it was direct.

My confidence this was the right decision deflated. "A friend, Sergeant Major John Mathis, arranged for us to stay with the Mathis family for a time. I have a letter of introduction here for his mother."

A warm smile split his face, despite his curious gaze. "John, eh? How is the ol' sport?"

"Well, last I saw him was in Pennsylvania."

"We heard about Gettysburg. He came out unscathed?"

I nodded, though I did not think anyone was completely unscathed. "They may be in pursuit of the enemy now."

Mr. Smith peered down at Katie, who hid in my skirts. Dipping a pen in an inkwell, he wrote down directions to the Mathis estate. "Do you have luggage?" he asked.

"At the station."

"I'll have it delivered for you." He handed me the paper as he showed me to the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"Welcome to St. Albans, Mrs. …"

"Ella Coburg, and this is Katie."

"Mrs. Coburg and Miss Katie," he said, bowing his head in farewell. I blanched at the title, but I did not correct him.

Our walk into the country didn't look anything like Pennsylvania. York County had not been as wooded or as shady as Vermont. The land was picturesque, as though I had just stepped into an oil painting. Rich, green foliage and wildflowers of every imaginable color stretched beyond my vision. Katie's eyes were as round as saucers.

As if the trees parted at its will, the Mathis home stood firm and proud when we rounded the bend. The Greek Revival brick house was massive with white columns holding up an entry portico. The structure's magnificent and chimerical beauty inspired awe, reflecting a time of tradition and civility before the war commenced. I hesitated at the huge, polished door embedded with stained-glass windows. The door opened, and a rather large golden retriever rushed past, bounding down the steps. Katie pressed her little body into my side.

"Moses!" a brown-haired woman with bony features yelled. "Pardon him. May I help ye?" She was dressed in simple homespun. By her accent, I could tell at once she was Irish. Her voice made me long for Anna.

Moses sniffed around us and wagged his tail as though we were long-lost friends. Katie gripped my skirts, squeezing closer as I shooed the dog away. The servant woman looked at us skeptically.

"Is Mrs. Matilda Mathis home?" I asked.

"She is. May I ask who's callin'?"

"A friend of John Mathis. I have a note of introduction for her."

"Wait here a moment." She disappeared into the house. I could hear jovial voices and laughter.

Silence abruptly descended on the house, and then a woman's heels on the floor hurried down the hall. A plump, middle-aged woman dressed in a fashionable, dark dress opened the door. She looked at us curiously, yet excitement danced in her eyes.

"I'm Matilda Mathis," she confirmed.

"I'm sorry to intrude." Nerves caused my stomach to flip, but I kept my shoulders straight with Katie at my side. "I have a letter here from your son … it should explain everything."

She examined me from head to toe. I wanted to shrink, wondering what she thought of this stranger standing before her in black, knowing her son.

She took the note without a word and opened the letter. Her eyes moved back and forth, reading each word, growing wider as she moved down the page. She looked up at me only once while she was reading. Her face held concern and surprise.

"Oh, you poor dears. I can't ever imagine why he did not telegraph. Now"—she paused, searching for words—"it seems you have been thrust in quite the predicament. I trust my son has made the right decision in sending you both here. You are safe here, Miss Coburg." My shoulders sagged in relief. "You may stay as long as necessary. Now, we will have time later to discuss this arrangement further, but for now, you and the little one must be hungry, and you must meet the others. I'm sure you both need to rest."

She did not hide her perplexed look, but she didn't ask any questions. John had detailed everything in the letter, except for the possible treason Ethan was involved in. I was thankful for that, wanting to protect Pa. I was relieved I would not have to lie to her, but at the mention of meeting the others, I wondered how much I should reveal.

She spoke rapidly as she led us into the spacious home. Hushed voices floated from the parlor. She hurried us past the open doors. I could feel heads turn our way as she led us down a long hall of polished hardwood floors with rich-colored rugs. At the end of the hall, the kitchen door swung open, revealing a cozy, cement kitchen. Introductions were made to Louise, the cook, and Thad, an elderly liveryman, who was eating his dinner at the table. Thad stood and gestured to us to sit down as he cleared his place. Appearing like magic, Louise placed steaming dishes in front of Katie and I.

"Here, my dears. Eat, and then you must meet the others." Louise gestured at the food, her eyes sympathetic.

Hungry, we thanked her and began shoveling food into our mouths. Mrs. Mathis stepped out while we ate, only to return to lead us to the parlor.

"They are privy to the necessary information," she explained. "Please know, we would do anything for John. You are both welcomed here."

The moment Katie and I stepped into the doorway of the fashionable, cherry wood-furnished parlor, the chatter ceased. Three young women sat beside one another on the settee. The Mathis sisters were not beautiful, but they were indeed pretty, with dark-brown hair contrasting against magnolia-white skin. Their deep-brown eyes were bright with intelligence and humor. The younger one, who appeared to be close to my age, looked plain compared to her two older sisters. A smile spread across her face, making her eyes sparkle supplementary to her sisters'. A boy about sixteen sat lazily in a high-backed chair beside another young gentleman, who was straightening his tie.

Mrs. Mathis made introductions. Her eldest daughter was Margaret Smith, married to the banker. She stood to shake my hand and resumed her seat. The middle daughter was Nora. She was a head taller than I and clasped my hand with a firm handshake. The youngest sister, Irene, did likewise, and requested I call her Renny like everyone else. The boy's name was Seth, and he bounded out of his seat like a jackrabbit, eager to shake my hand. Landon Greene was the young gentleman who was introduced as Renny's beau.

With all the introductions complete, they offered me a seat. Right then, I knew I was where I needed to be. They welcomed us with open arms, inviting Katie and me to a place in their family, no matter how temporary it may be.