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“Have what?” he asked.
“Levers.”
Up North where hearths were used daily during winters, heat from the flames would’ve fused the metal. This being the South where hearths were used less frequently, the lever turned easily and a portion of the stone wall it was attached to opened. A small cloud of dust filtered out, making her cough, and she backed out of the hearth to clear her lungs.
“Let me get you some water,” he said with concern.
Unlike the cottage, the house had indoor plumbing. After going downstairs to the dining room hutch and retrieving a teacup, he filled it with water from Helen’s washroom and handed it to the still slightly distressed Raven. She drank it down.
“Better?” he asked.
After a few moments, she nodded and handedthe cup back to him. “Now, let’s see what’s inside—if anything,” she croaked.
Tucked inside was an old metal box. Before pulling it out, she used the lamp to inspect the hole to make sure nothing was attached that might signal the owner it had been removed. Seeing nothing and praying she hadn’t missed anything, she slowly withdrew it and backed out.
Studying it, she estimated it to be just over a foot long and possibly three inches high. It was locked with a small padlock that needed a key to open. She lifted the box to gauge the weight. She didn’t want to have gone through all this just to find it empty, but reasoned why would anyone hide an empty box? The heft appeared to indicate something inside. She doubted the key it needed was on the ring Helen had given her earlier. Fishing them out of her skirt pocket, she tried them and was proved correct. “Let’s clean up in here and take it back to the cabin. I may have a way to open it.”
After stowing the shovels and disposing of the ashes in the fire pit, Brax joined her inside. She was seated on the sofa fishing around in her faded blue carpetbag. She finally withdrew a small red velvet bag and shot him a triumphant smile. “Found it.”
“What’s inside?”
“Lock picks.”
Not sure what to do with this woman and hermany talents, he watched silently. In spite of his growing feelings for her, moments like this made him wrestle once again with the illegalities the Moreaux embraced. He knew they were originally tied to necessity, but he couldn’t just magically erase the values he’d been raised with.
She looked up at him. “Judging again?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“And you aren’t very good at hiding your thoughts. I’m trying to keep my family and yours from going to prison, Steele. I’m sorry if this bothers you.”
In spite of the apology, there wasn’t a whit of remorse in her voice. He’d offended her and didn’t know what to do with that, either. “It’s hard for a leopard to change its spots.”
“At least you’re honest.”
After that frosty retort, she concentrated on fitting the varying picks to the small padlock. On the third try the lock opened. She eased it free and opened the box. He walked over to get a better view.
There were various items resting on a velvet-lined tray. Jewelry, a gold fountain pen, and a small cotton pouch filled with unknown contents. There was a jeweled brooch that he wanted to inspect. He reached for it. She stayed his hand. “Everything needs to be put back exactly the way we found it. Let me memorize the layout first.”
Admittedly, that would never have crossedhis mind. He withdrew his hand and waited. She lifted the tray out. Lo and behold, there was a cylinder inside made of thick brown paper. On the outside was curly writing. She handed it to him. “What’s it say?”
“Declaration of Independence. Seventeen something. The rest of the date is faded as if the paper may have gotten wet at some point.”
Her eyes were bright with the same excitement he also felt. The top was sealed with a tin circle. “We may need a pocketknife to pry this open. I have one.”
He found it in his belongings and returned.
“Be careful,” she cautioned.
He nodded and gently used the tip of the knife to free the tin circle. When it was done, he shook out the rolled up document inside. Using the same care, he unfurled it and smiled. “This is it.”
“Hallelujah!” she yelled, excitedly.
He chuckled and felt like shouting the same. They viewed it for a moment, and sure enough, the signers’ signatures were disjointed in the exact way Welch had described. They shared a look of triumph. After placing it back inside the cylinder and resealing it, they set it aside while she went through a stack of papers that were also inside the box. He took the moment to explore the items on the tray. The brooch was crusted with precious jewels: diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. He wondered whom it originallybelonged to and why it was there. He placed it back. The small bag held gold coins and by his estimate equaled several hundred dollars.
She held up a thick wad of Confederate one-hundred-dollar bills. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen a woman on a greyback. Do you know who she is?”
The Confederacy’s paper bills known as greybacks were first distributed during the war, as were the first Union-backed greenbacks. He scanned the bill and did indeed recognize the woman. “It’s Lucy Holcombe Pickens. She was the wife of the South Carolina governor. I saw many of these during my time here with the Fifty-Fourth.”
