Though African Americans constituted less than one percent of
the northern population, by the war’s end they made up ten percent of the Union
Army. A total of 180,000 black men, more than 85% of those eligible, enlisted.
By the time of the Confederate surrender in 1865, there were more African
Americans in the Union army than there were soldiers in the Confederate army.
The above fact is the reason I chose to
have an African American as one of my characters in HAZARDOUS UNIONS. It wasn’t
until the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863 that all African men and
women were issued free slaves.
African American soldiers faced discrimination as well as
segregation. They were given substandard supplies and rations. Probably the
worst form of discrimination was the pay differential. At the beginning of
African American enlistment, it was assumed that they would be kept out of
direct combat, and the men were paid as laborers rather than as soldiers.
African American soldiers therefore received $7 per month, plus a $3 clothing
allowance, while white soldiers received $13 per month, plus $3.50 for clothes.
My
story takes place the month before the Emancipation Proclamation was passed, but
in my research African American men had enlisted to fight for the Union the
first year of the war. Their freedom and the rights to equality is why these
men went up against severe dangers from the north and south to enter into
combat.
Twin sisters separated by war, bound by love...
After
the death of their father, twin sisters Maggie and Matty Becker are forced to
take positions with officers’ families at a nearby fort. When the southern
states secede, the twins are separated, and they find themselves on opposite
sides of America’s bloodiest war.
In the
north, Matty discovers an incriminating letter in General Worthington’s office,
and soon she is on the run. With no one to turn to for help, she drugs the
wealthy Colonel Cole Black and marries him, in hopes of getting the letter to
his father, the governor of Michigan. But Cole is not happy about being married,
and Matty’s life becomes all about survival.
Two unforgettable stories of courage, strength and honor.
Matty
by Kat Flannery
Fort
Wayne, Michigan
December
1862
What had she done? Matty Becker was going to
hell, and there'd be no one to save her. A loud snore echoed from the other
room. She peeked around the corner and caught a glimpse of Colonel Black's
stocking feet. She'd burn for sure. She glanced at the paper she held and
groaned. She was a horrible, devious, scheming letch. Maggie wouldn't be
pleased. Maggie wasn't here. Another
snore blew into the kitchen and she placed her head onto the table banging her
forehead twice. There was no turning back now.
Last night she'd pushed aside her conscience
and let fear guide her. For her plan to work, she'd have to throw all sense to
the dogs, not that she hadn't done so already by following through with the
blasted thing. She couldn't fail now. If her family found out what she'd done
they'd never forgive her. Worse yet, if Colonel Black found out she'd be locked
behind bars, a fate far better than the one that got her in this mess to begin
with.
She placed the paper on the table and went into
the bedroom. Colonel Black lay on the bed with his clothes stripped off and
tossed about the floor. He'd been out for nine hours and would wake any minute.
Matty stood, pushed all thoughts of reason from her mind and removed her dress,
corset and pantaloons. Her face heated and the room spun. He rolled over and
she jumped into the bed next to him, pretending to sleep. She knew the moment
he'd woken. The bed stilled and she couldn't breathe the air was so stiff.
"What the hell?" He sat up and she
knew the instant he saw her. "Son of a bitch."
She felt his nudge once, twice and now a shove
almost knocking her from the bed.
"Wake the hell up," he growled.
She squeezed her eyes closed and willed
strength into her soul so she could face the dark Colonel. She rolled over
pretending to wipe the sleep from her eyes.
"Who are you?" He placed his head in
his hands. She'd bet he had one heck of a headache.
"Your wife," she said.
"The hell you are." He shot out of
bed without grabbing the sheet, and she averted her eyes.
"Please cover yourself." She held up
the sheet and he ripped it from her hand. "The marriage license is in the
kitchen on the table if you do not believe me."
She watched as he grabbed his head and closed
his eyes. The heavy dose of laudanum she'd placed in his drink the night before
had done the trick and it wasn't but a mere suggestion they marry that the
Colonel jumped to the challenge. Soon they were standing in the dining room in
front of a preacher. Words were spoken—words she thought to say with someone
she loved, someone who'd wanted her. Her stomach lurched and her mouth watered
with the urge to vomit.
"How did this happen?" he asked
sitting on the end of the bed.
"Mrs. Worthington sent me to see if you
needed anything."
"I was drinking." He looked at her.
"I was drunk."
She shrugged.
He stood holding the sheet tight to his
midsection.
She couldn't help but notice the rippled
stomach and defined muscles on his chest.
"We can annul. I had too much to drink. My
head wasn't clear."
She shook her head.
He frowned.
"We have consummated." A lie of
course but she was desperate.
His mouth fell open. A moment she knew he'd not
remember. After the preacher left, she'd taken him to the bedroom where he
passed out before hitting the bed.
"Impossible. I'd remember that."
She shook her head again praying he'd buy the
fib.
He pulled on his pants and dress shirt. "I
don't even know you. Why in hell would I marry you?"
"My name is Matty Beck—Black. I was
employed with the Worthington's. You've come to dinner several times."
His brown eyes lit with recognition.
"You're the house maid."
"Yes."
"I married a maid?"
The words stung and she turned from him so he
wouldn't see the disappointment upon her face.
"Why would you marry me if I was into the
spirits?"
"You seemed fine to me."
He took a step toward her. "Why would you
marry me at all when you don't even know me?"
She gripped the blanket on the bed.
"You…you said kind words, and I…I believed them.
"How desperate are you to marry a
stranger?" he yelled. "You found out who my father is. You want
money. You tricked me."
Well, he got the last one right, but the first
two irritated her. She was not the kind of person to marry for money. Really,
who did he think she was?
"Sorry to disappoint you but I refused my
inheritance years ago."
"If you mean to say that I could not find
myself a suitable husband because I am a maid, then you're wrong."
"That is exactly what I am saying
Miss—"
"Black."
"The hell it is."
He went into the kitchen picked up the marriage
license and stared at it.
Matty dressed quickly and inched into the room.
Confusion pulled at his features and she began to feel sorry for him. This was
her fault. She'd planned this. Now she had to continue telling the lie she'd
told. She glanced outside and shivered. Boldness,
be my tongue. Shakespeare's words echoed in her mind. It was worth it.
She'd been living in fear for a week. Colonel Black had been her saviour, and
she risked a life full of love and happiness for this—a lie in which she'd
speak for the rest of her life. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and willed
the tears not to fall.
"Why
can't I remember?" He glanced at her. "And why in hell would I marry
you?"
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