Omnibus from the 1860s
Previously in the novel: War Secretary Edwin Stanton holds President and Mrs. Lincoln captive under guard in basement of the White House. Janitor Gabby Zook by accident must stay in the basement too. Guard Adam Christy reports on his condition each evening to his sister Cordie and fellow hospital volunteer Jessie Home.
“Miss Zook, Miss Home,” Adam said, straightening his shoulders as a grin covered his face. “I thought you had fallen into a bit of trouble, you were so late.”
“Don’t worry, me laddie,” Jessie said. “I daresay I can defend meself and me friend better than ye could.”
“Maybe so.” He ducked his head and ran his fingers through his red hair. Looking up, Adam smiled again. “Did you have a good day at the hospital?”
“How is Gabby? Is he eating well?” Cordie chose to ignore his pleasantries.
“He’s fine, Miss Zook,” Adam replied. A cloud crossed his face. “Oh. There’s one thing.”
“Oh my Lord,” Cordie whispered, putting her hand to her ample bosom.
“He’s all right,” he said, trying to reassure her. “His quilt got—cut up. He needs a new one.”
“Cut up?” Jessie interjected. “Merciful heavens, what happened?”
“Someone cut it.” Adam breathed in deeply, and then knitted his brow. “He—they thought something might be in it.”
“There are only socks in it,” Jessie said.
“Who could be so mean?” Cordie shook her head, unable to understand what was going on, why her brother was in the Executive Mansion in the first place, and now a perfectly good Gabby quilt ripped to shreds.
“Mr. Gabby would like another,” Adam said.
“Of course,” Cordie replied. “I don’t want him to catch a chill, not with winter coming.”
“Private Christy,” Jessie said, “ye never answered the question. Who ripped the quilt?”
“I can’t tell.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Please don’t ask anymore. We all could get into big trouble.”
“The saints forbid ordinary people be privy to the goin’s on in the White House,” she said.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Adam said, impulsively taking a step toward Jessie, who stood her ground. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t rip the quilt. I—I just can’t tell who did. I agree with you. It was a mean thing for him—them—to do. But I can’t do anything about it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Cordie patted his hand. “It’s done and can’t be undone. A Gabby quilt is easy enough to make. I’ll start a new one tonight.”
“Thank you, Miss Zook.” He smiled at her and then glanced shyly at Jessie. “Do you forgive me, Miss Home?”
“Let me see, ye upset us dreadfully,” she said slowly, a twinkle in her eyes.
“Don’t tease the boy, Jessie,” Cordie said, watching the agony in Adam’s face. “I can’t stand to see a young man as unhappy as he is.” She smiled to herself over the skills Jessie used around men, skills she herself did not know how to use, nor did she possess the looks to make them effective. Cordie was too old to be jealous, so she just enjoyed watching men swoon at Jessie’s feet.
“I’ll tell ye true, laddie, if ye want to atone, ye may accompany us to our boardinghouses,” Jessie said. “’Tis much too late for respectable ladies to walk the streets alone.”
“Yes.” Adam vigorously nodded. “I’ll pay for omnibus fare, for all three of us.”
“Faith, I didn’t know the army paid so well,” she said.
“Oh, it doesn’t.” He smiled. “But it would be well worth it.” Adam hailed one of the lumbering omnibuses pulled by two large, bored horses and proudly paid the fares, stepping aside to allow the women to pass him and select seats.
“You can have the window seat, me dear,” Jessie said to Cordie, who knew very well her young companion was more interested in sitting next to the private than allowing her to have the view of the dark streets of Washington. After Adam settled into the seat next to her, Jessie leaned into him. “So, from Ohio, ye are.”
“Yes, Miss Home.”
“Bein’ from Scotland, I know nothin’ about Ohio. I crave to learn, though.”