Savannah crawls back into bed and sleeps as ordered.
Dayton follows the scent of bacon and coffee to the kitchen and finds Eli and his mother, Felicia, working.
“Good Morning, Mr. Patrick,” Felicia says and offers him a cup of hot coffee.
“Thank you, Mrs. Irwin. Call me, Dayton. I’d like to thank you both for your hospitality. You’ve been very kind to Savannah and I.” Dayton closes his eyes, savoring the strong brew.
“Okay, enough of the pleasantries. Who are you and what have you to do with this mess, Oliver’s gotten us all into?” Eli grumbles and slams his cup down on the table.
Dayton grins, “She said you were difficult, but I’d be the same under the circumstances.” He sits at the large wooden farm table and sighs. “First I need to know if you have the tintypes. Oliver’s and Savannah’s.”
“Of course. Why?” Eli glares.
Dayton sighs with relief. “It’s a long story, Eli. I’m a family friend of the Ward’s.”
“It looked like more than friendship out there on the tracks yesterday,” Eli pushes.
“That’s none of your business, Irwin,” Dayton retorts.
“Stop it, Son.” Felicia places a plate on the table with biscuits in front of her son. “Let’s have a civil conversation for once.”
Kristin walks into the kitchen, carrying Lucas. Eli’s disposition changes instantly. He jumps up and immediately plucks Lucas from her arms. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says and kisses Kristin in front of everyone.
“Eli,” she gasps, and Lucas lays his head on his shoulder.
“I’m hungry,” Lucas yawns.
“A boy after my own heart,” Eli teases.
“Let me help, Felicia,” Dayton says and jumps to help cook breakfast.
Eli carries Lucas over to the table and holds him while Kristin butters a biscuit for him.
“Is the bad man gonna come back, Mr. Eli?” Lucas asks with a mouthful of biscuit.
Dayton turns with narrowed eyes and takes in the condition of the child. Bruises and healing mouth. Then looks at Kristin, noting the busted lip and teary eyes.
“No, son. He’s not.” Eli glances at Dayton and nods in acknowledgment.
Savannah walks into the family room four hours later, dressed in a light green day dress and finds both men going through the two bags of tintypes. Dayton jumps up and guides her to a seat.
“What are you doing up?” he demands.
“I’ve slept enough, I needed to eat and walk,” she explains.
Felicia hears and comes in, “Savannah! Sit and get comfortable. I’ll make you a hot cup of tea.” She hurries from the room.
“Thank you, Felicia.” Savannah looks at Eli and points, “If you are looking for something specific, you should ask me. You’ll get them all mixed up,” she snaps and reaches for her bag.
“No, you’ll hurt your arm!” Eli grumbles and pulls the bag out of her reach.
Dayton laughs when her eyes narrow and she replies, “I might hurt something, alright.”
“Savannah,” Dayton says, “Glenn showed me the pictures you mailed to the publisher in Washington. Do you have the originals?”
Her eyes fly open wide, “Why would he do that?”
Dayton pulls out the letter and the check from the publisher and gives it to Savannah to read, while Eli drags a wooden table over for her to sit her tea on when Felicia returns.
“Thank you, Felicia,” she whispers and hands the check and letter to Dayton. “That’s a lot of money isn’t it, Dayton?” she whispers.
“Yes, but it wasn’t until I looked at the copies you left with Glenn that I realized why. Can you show them to me?”
“Of course,” Savannah replies and groans when she tries to use her arm to scoot to the edge of the seat. Both men jump to help, and she leans back in shock.
“I’m fine, gentlemen, just sore. Doc said I would feel better in a few days. I keep forgetting not to put pressure on it.”
Dayton moves the bag she gestures to and with his assistance she digs through her bag. “I kept the originals just in case they said no.” She offers him the four tintypes.
“The man in this picture is Senator Buren. He’s running for Secretary of State,” Dayton explains and shows the image to Eli.
“Seriously?” He glances up at Dayton and shakes his head.
“Dayton what’s a Senator for the Union doing with a Confederate General?” Eli asks.
Savannah gapes at Eli. “What?”
Dayton nods, “We’ve been trying for years to prove he was committing treason, and that one image speaks volumes. I need to know if there are more.”
“We?” Savannah asks softly. Staring at Dayton, she wonders yet again who Dayton Patrick is.
“One thing that bothered me about Oliver asking you to bring his images to me specifically, Savannah, was that he knew how I felt about his hobby,” Eli explains.
“Do you think Oliver knew that this man was committing treason?” Felicia demands.
“I had no idea,” Savannah stammers. “You have to understand that when he gave me his bag most of them weren’t developed. I was busy traveling, and when I finally got home, the images were… graphic.” Savannah stands and starts pacing.
“I photograph the land, buildings, people, not death. It is my biggest regret that it took me so long to fulfill my promise. I was weak, and the images gave me nightmares,” she sniffs and accepts a handkerchief from Felicia.
“Oliver shouldn’t have put this burden on you,” Felicia insists and guides her back to the chair. “Sit down.”
“Anyone, man or woman would’ve struggled with these images, Savannah,” Eli snaps. Savannah sits while Dayton runs a hand over his face.
“Savannah you don’t have to go through them, I know what to look for,” Dayton explains.
“Why is that?” Eli demands. “Just what exactly did you do during the war?”
“The Patrick family supplied horses
