Never Again – 2

 

Four years earlier – 1861 – Richmond, VA

Looking out the window of his second floor office, Joseph stroked his mustache as he watched a young man hurrying across Main Street. He was dressed like a proper working-class young gentleman, a bowler hat perched atop his dark hair, a carpetbag gripped tightly in one hand. Joseph's first thought was that he was headed toward the boarding house two doors down from the newspaper's offices. So he was somewhat surprised when, at the last moment, he veered left, coming directly to the front door of Joseph's building.

He lost sight of the young man when he stepped onto the porch. Wondering who he was, and why he was there, Joseph hurried down to the ground floor, arriving just in time to see his sister step from behind her desk to greet the visitor.

"Rawleigh Travers, at your service," the young man said, sweeping his hat off and making a slight bow to her. As he straightened, he caught sight of Joseph, who was now standing behind her. His eyes lit up for a second before he returned his attention to Elizabeth. "I am looking for Joseph Moncure?"

"You sound as if you're not quite certain," Elizabeth replied with a light laugh.

"I'm certain I'm looking for the owner of the Richmond Gazette. I was informed by a porter at the railroad station that his name is Joseph Moncure."

"You were informed correctly," Joseph said, stepping forward, his hand extended. "I am him."

Rawleigh shook his hand as he looked Joseph over. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. I am—"

"Mr. Travers. Yes, I heard. How may I help you?" Joseph studied the young man for a moment with a bit more interest than was probably proper. Rawleigh had regular features that bordered on handsome, and a slender, well-built body, Joseph thought—although the baggy suit did its best to hide it.

Looking around, Rawleigh's glance lit on Elizabeth's desk. He set his bag on it, opening it to take out a thick envelope that he handed to Joseph. "My credentials, such as they are."

Chuckling at Rawleigh's somewhat self-effacing words, Joseph opened the envelope, extracting a letter and several newspaper clippings. He began reading; first the letter then the clippings, nodding slowly.

"You come highly recommended, Mr. Travers. And your writing skills, if indeed you wrote these stories, are to be commended."

Rawleigh bristled slightly. "I wrote each and every one of them."

Joseph nodded. "Would I be wrong in presuming you are looking for employment?"

"Not in the least." Rawleigh walked to the front window, staring out at what was visible of the city. "There will be a war soon, as I'm certain you are well aware. With the secession of seven states already and the formation of the Confederacy, it is inevitable. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Virginia doesn't join their ranks quite soon."

"And you want to be in the heart of it when that happens," Joseph said with a smile.

"Very much so," Rawleigh admitted as he turned back to face him. "I'm a more than passable reporter and I want to follow the story of the war from here."

"Why here and not somewhere deeper south?"

"Because here I'll be in the center between the two factions. Geographically, that is." He walked to a map of the area pinned to one wall, tapping it. "Virginia is close to Washington and yet, as I said, soon to be part of the Confederacy, if my instincts are correct." He smiled at Joseph. "And they usually are."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You seem to think a great deal of yourself, Mr. Travers."

"I don't believe in false modesty, young woman."

Joseph laughed at the look of shocked disdain on her face, saying, "Mr. Travers, might I suggest you tamp down on your words? This 'young woman' is my sister, Elizabeth Moncure and the features editor for the Gazette."

"My humble apologies, Miss Moncure. Where I come from any woman working for a newspaper would be nothing more than a secretary at best."

"From your accent and your attitude, I'm presuming that would be New England, perhaps"—Elizabeth tapped a finger to her lip—"New Hampshire."

Rawleigh smiled. "You have a good ear."

"She does," Joseph agreed, moving to stand beside her. "Now she and I have to confer about your request. Since it might take us some time, I would suggest you find yourself a place to stay. I recommend the boarding house just down the street. It is well run and affordable."

Rawleigh obviously took that as his cue to leave because he picked up his bag and started for the door. "I sincerely hope you're willing to hire me. You won't find anyone better."

"Conceited ass," Elizabeth muttered under her breath.

"No, I just know what I'm capable of," Rawleigh responded, smiling. He eyed them for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and focused his gaze on Joseph. "Thank you for considering me, Mr. Moncure."

"You're welcome, Mr. Travers," Joseph replied with a smile. "Please let us know where you'll be staying and I'll be in contact with you."

Rawleigh smiled back. "I hope you will." His glance lingered on Joseph for a long moment then he was gone.

"He's human, Joseph," Elizabeth said tartly, the moment the door closed behind Rawleigh.

Joseph chuckled. "I'm well aware of that."

"He is also, if I don't miss my guess, interested in more than just a job from the way he was looking at you."

"Elizabeth, my dear, you are reading much too much into things. Even if you weren't, he is, as you said, human." Joseph smiled wryly. "A very brief encounter, if you're right and if both of us should be inclined, would be all that would happen."

She shook her head. "Do not tempt fate, Joseph."