The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) by Katherine Lowry Logan Read Free Book Online Page A

“You’ll be met by a member of the underground.”
    Lincoln put down his pen, folded the note, and handed it to her. Then he sat back and swung his legs over the chair arm.
    As she held the paper, still warm from the President’s touch, her fingers quivered. “I need food, sleep, and a bath.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion.
    “It can be arranged on board ship,” Stanton said.
    She cleared her throat. “I have one more question. If your Richmond contact can get me in, why can’t he get your agent out?”
    Stanton’s face tightened. “He’s a railroad President, not a doctor.”
    “And one of the northern sympathizers you can’t afford to lose.” She looked first to Stanton, then to the President.
    Lincoln reached out with his long arms and drew his knees up almost to his face. “He’s one of them, yes.”
    “Does your agent have a name?”
    Lincoln and Stanton shared a quick glance then Stanton said, “Major McCabe.”
    Charlotte rolled the name around her tongue. “A Scotsman.”
    “A lawyer,” Stanton said.
    “And a damn good friend,” Lincoln said. “Bring him home.”

6
    City Point, Headquarters of General Ulysses S. Grant, 1864
    A fter a long day, Charlotte trudged aboard the sidewheel steamer River Queen , Grant’s private dispatch boat. She could barely stand, but her mind wouldn’t shut down. If she did sleep, she’d probably have fitful dreams about wounded soldiers and a magical sapphire brooch.
    Charlotte’s Virginia Civil War knowledge was legendary among her peers. She could be a winner on Jeopardy if all the questions related to the Commonwealth’s history between 1861 and 1865, or medical history during the same time period. When Stanton told her she would travel by riverboat to City Point, she knew exactly where she was going and why. Since June, the small port town at the confluence of the James and Appomattox Rivers had been Grant’s headquarters and the base for the forces fighting in Petersburg. Her meeting with Grant would take place at his command tent on the east lawn of Dr. Richard Eppes’s plantation known as Appomattox.
    Once on board the steamer, while she took a sponge bath and ate, she analyzed her predicament. There had been no flashbulb moment of enlightenment in the past forty-eight hours. It would be nice to open the brooch and disappear, but if she did, Sheridan would act on his threat. She still didn’t understand why the brooch had carried her to the nineteenth century. Until she could figure out an alternative, she had to continue to play the cards as dealt, because folding gave her no hope of winning a return trip to her time with the home place intact.
    When she finally climbed into her berth, she dropped off immediately into a much-needed, surprisingly dreamless sleep.
    Now, as a new day dawned, she prepared for what was to come in much the same way as she prepared for surgery. She sucked in long, lung-filling breaths while thinking ahead to her meeting with General Grant. Visualizing Chimborazo was easy. From previous visits to the historical site and visitors’ center, she was familiar with the Confederate hospital’s layout, but she had no workable plan. Her only advantage was knowing the hospital guards would be more concerned with keeping the enemy out than keeping patients in.
    A successful rescue depended on the extent of Major McCabe’s injuries. If he could hobble, and if she could get him out of the hospital, her next challenge would be handing him off to a member of the underground. If he couldn’t walk, she had few options.
    She leaned her elbows on the deck railing of the River Queen , sipping coffee while watching the sun rise over the James River. The sight was as breathtaking as always. Workers were already unloading supplies from the hundreds of steamboats, sailing vessels, and barges berthed along the mile-long wharf. Even with the bustle and clanging, the busy port seemed more like a quiet resort town to Charlotte’s