Young Bill Cotton typically milked his goats so early in the morning that he carried a lantern to the barn. It was during this predawn darkness that he heard hooves thundering down the greenway. Barely able to see the rider, Bill thought he resembled a phantom in the darkness.
After the rider had passed, Cotton milked his goats and hurried to the house. Slipping into the kitchen, he was surprised when Mary called, “Bill, is that you?”
“Yes, Mary. You didn’t need to wake so early.”
“I’m frightened!” Mary said, peeking from behind the curtain that separated their bed from the main room. Her eyes were large, and her slender shoulders quivered in the cold.
Bill set the milk pail down and crossed the room. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he gently asked, “What’s the problem?”
“I dreamed there was a rider.”
Bill could feel his wife shivering, and he held her close in his arms.
She seemed to relax in his embrace. “I thought the rider was death. He came to our window and called my name. I tried to scream, but I guess I just woke myself up. Then I thought I heard hooves racing away. Was there a horseman, Bill?”
“Yes. A horseman did pass earlier this morning. I think he may have been headed to Stonewall, and I don’t feel good about this.”
“What do you mean?” Mary asked, pushing Bill’s protective arms away, the terror in her voice ebbing. She rose and moved to the blazing stove to start the coffee. “How could one rider cause trouble for anyone, especially for us?” She tossed her auburn locks and gave her husband a teasing smile. “You know, I think the baby could come soon now.”
A worried look came over Bill’s face. “Do you really think so? Should I get your mother?”
“Not yet,” Mary said with a laugh. “Let’s have breakfast and talk. Tell me how my dream and this early-morning rider could cause us any trouble.”
Bill didn’t answer. He strained the milk into crocks and carried it to the spring where it would remain cool. Mary busied herself with breakfast.
When preparations were made, Mary eased herself into a chair and smiled at her husband. “Now, my worried man, how could this early-morning rider affect our lives?”
Steam billowed from the mug between Bill’s big hands. “I don’t know, but there have been rumors of trouble in the western land.”
“Oh, those rumors again! Bill, we’ve heard of trouble over there for years.” Mary waved her hand vaguely in a westerly direction. “Nothing has ever come of it in my time or my father’s time. Why should rumors affect us now?”
“I don’t know, Mary, but I feel like something huge is about to happen to change our lives forever. I don’t want anything to happen. I’d like to go through life without a care, raise our children, grow old together, and pass quietly, but somehow I don’t think we’ll be able to do that.”
“But why should rumors from the western lands affect us?” Mary asked, lightly touching her man’s big hands.
“I’ve joined the army,” Bill said quietly.
Mary recoiled, her eyes sudden balls of fire. “You did what?”
Now it was Bill’s turn to get defensive. “I did it for you and the baby. If war should threaten our borders, I thought maybe I could help keep it away from you and our baby!”
Fear edged with anger laced Mary’s words. “Bill, what if you are called away? The baby’s due anytime. Where will I go? What will I do? I can’t stay on the farm!” Tears filled her eyes. “Bill, please say you’re not serious, that you are only teasing me!”
“I am serious, Mary. The sergeant of arms spoke to me three weeks ago, and I signed up. That’s why I’ve been going to town so often. They have drills for the new recruits. I’ve been—”
“Three weeks!” Mary exploded. Her tears disappeared in a wave of red-hot fury. “Bill Cotton, do you mean to tell me you have been playing army for three weeks behind my back? Just when were you going to tell me of this foolishness? I cannot believe you would deceive me this way!” Her chair clattered across the floor as she leaped to her feet. “Get out of this house!” she stormed. “Get out! Do you hear me? Go to town and play army! Just get out!” Grabbing a small skillet from the stove, she hurled it in Bill’s direction.
In one deft movement, Bill dodged the skillet, grabbed his hat, and slipped through the door. He grabbed a hoe from the toolshed and headed for the cornfield while the banging of pots and pans resounded inside the cabin walls.
“Dear Lord, forgive me,” he whispered. “I really messed things up. I should have talked things over with her first.”
His hoe struck the earth. Who am I kidding, he thought. I’m no warrior. He liked the feel of the hoe in his hands. It certainly felt better in his hands than the old sword he’d been practicing with in town.
The sun grew hot by midday. Bill wiped sweat from his brow and looked back at the cabin. “Guess I’d better face the music,” he muttered to himself. “Sure hope she’s calmed down.”
After placing the hoe in the shed, Bill eased open the front door of the house. It was cool, dark, and silent inside. “Mary, are you all right?”
“Bill, come to me,” a small voice called from behind the curtain. “Bill!”
As he pulled back the curtain, he could see Mary reaching for him. Her cheeks were damp, and her eyes were large. “I need you!” she whispered.
His big arms wrapped around her tiny figure.
“I’ve been thinking,” Mary continued. “I think everything will be all right. Do you remember the dream I told you about this morning?”
“Yes.” Bill nodded.
“I felt so threatened in my dream, but the rider turned away at the last moment and sped away. I think that’s a good omen. Evil will turn away from me, Bill. The baby is due soon, and I can stay with Mother. We will be fine. But your lovely crops … what will become of them without you to care for them?”
Bill hugged his wife tightly, and she buried her head on his shoulder. “Mary, I love you so much! I’m sorry I didn’t talk this over with you. I’m no hero! I don’t want to go to war. I just want to protect you and keep you safe. Say,” he said suddenly, “why don’t you come and watch our unit practice in the town square. Quite a few women do.”
“Women?” Mary’s eyebrows arched as she pulled from Bill’s embrace. “What kind of women?”
“I don’t know,” Bill said absently. “They come to watch their husbands and sons march and practice. I’d love to have you there. Some say our unit looks pretty impressive, but being in it, I can’t tell.”
“Oh.” Mary turned away. “I can’t do that yet. I’m a little concerned about the walk, and I still don’t like the thought of you being in the army. Go if you must, but I’m not ready to give you up yet, Bill Cotton. I guess that will take more time.”
“And prayer,” Bill said softly.
“You keep God to yourself, Mister Cotton,” Mary snapped. “I have enough to think about without adding that to the list.”
They went to the kitchen and ate in silence. After dinner, Bill stood to leave. “I love you, Mary,” he said softly. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
She brushed her tousled hair back from her reddened face and rose to wrap her arms around Bill’s neck. “I love you too. Hurry home to me.”
He smiled and kissed her gently. “I will.” His heart was lighter than it had been in days. He donned his old hat and stepped into the bright afternoon light to begin his walk into town.
Sweat trickled down his face in the bright sunshine, but he didn’t even notice. His mind was full. He hoped his neighbor Bob Walton would join him for the journey into town.
Though Bob lived over the hill from him, they saw each other quite often and traded work back and forth. Bill had helped Bob dig a well last winter, and this spring Bob had helped plow the cornfield in return. Their wives enjoyed each other’s company, and the couples got together as often as they could.
The Waltons were religious folk and attended church regularly. They invited Bill to go with them, and even Mary had attended once out of politeness but she refused to go after that.
Bill pondered his recent change of attitude. As a youth he was talented and confident, and when he set a goal for himself, he attained it. He had even won the hand of the lovely Mary Trumbell when others far wealthier had failed. Still, church had troubled him. He had thought of himself as a good, honest, moral man, but he knew something was missing.
Bill knew there was a creator. There had to be. A person had only to look around at the beauty of the earth, the soaring mountains, the towering trees, and the rushing water to see it. Being a farmer, Bill never ceased to be amazed that he could plant a tiny seed in the earth and that with the proper conditions; the seed would sprout and grow. Who brought that seed to life? And the animals of the field were designed not only to survive but to thrive in their environments. And who had placed the stars in their never-changing courses or caused the sun to rise each day?
Yes, there had to be a creator, but the pastor spoke of God as a friend, not just an all-powerful deity. How could someone have God for a friend?
One Sunday the pastor had quoted the Bible, saying, “No greater love hath a man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” He had gone on to say, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
The pastor had said that Jesus loved mankind so much that He had come to die in our place. God had showed His love for His friends when Jesus lay down His life for us.
Bill understood that love could serve others to the point of death. His mother had cared for many of her neighbors when fever ravaged the land. She had sought to ease their suffering, until one day she too had fallen prey to the dreaded disease and died.
Bill reasoned that the grief he’d felt when his mother died was similar to the grief God felt at the loss of His only Son. Considering their similar losses, Bill began to feel a kindred spirit with God. He’d begun to look at things from the heavenly Father’s point of view. How would a father feel? What would a father think?
It was this outlook on life that had prompted Bill to join the army. Bill’s life was no longer his own. He was responsible for a wife and a child. However, his world had grown even larger than that. If the heavenly Father felt awful when evil men plundered the innocent, raped the earth of its resources, or spread slavery and fear across the land, then shouldn’t Bill try to do something to stop these things?
“Bill, wait up!” a voice called.
Bill’s thoughts vanished. Turning, he saw the lanky Bob Walton running up the path. He could always share his thoughts with Bob, and he had plenty on his mind.
“Did you see the rider early this morning?” Bill asked as Bob caught up with him.
“No, I didn’t,” Bob admitted. “Do you suppose he brought tidings of war?”
“I don’t know, but I think it’s likely,” Bill responded. “I was so disturbed that I shared my thoughts with Mary.”
“Did you finally tell her about joining up?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I did a bad job of breaking the news to her.”
“Was she upset?”
“She threw a skillet at me!”
“Whew!” Bob whistled softly and then pointed down the road. “Isn’t that Master Johnson?”
“I think you are right.” Bill nodded, and the two hurried on in silence. They came upon a huge man driving an ox cart heavily laden with produce.
“Better hurry, boys,” the jolly giant laughed. “There’s news aplenty in town. I warrant you’ll have some business to take care of as well.” Saying no more, the steward of Capri waved and continued his journey east toward Stonewall.
The men found Capri a mass of confusion and talk. Some said, “Green Meadow is at war,” while others said, “No, Master Johnson is just going to a war council at Stonewall.”
The recruits assembled amid the bedlam, and a trumpet blast brought order to their ranks. They executed marching and weapon drills with precision. Finally, the troops stood for inspection.
Commander Barker spoke emphatically to his men. “Gentlemen, we must be ready at any moment now. A council has been called for tomorrow evening at Stonewall. If the verdict is war, as I expect it will be, there will be a mustering of troops and a hard march west very soon. I have instructions from Master Johnson to inform you of this. Make provisions for your families in the event of our departure. There may be little time, so I urge you to act promptly—today, if possible! Make sure your affairs are set in order and your families know what they are to do.”
Bill scratched his head and wondered, What should I do?
The men were dismissed, and Bob found Bill among the milling men. “Was Mary coming to town this evening?” he asked.
“No,” Bill said. “She said she had more important things to think about right now. I do wish she had come.”
“Hey, there’s my Ella,” Bob said, waving at the crowd. “Come and say goodbye to her, Bill.”
“Goodbye? Where is she going?”
“She has an aunt in Waterfront, and we thought she would be safer there. Her aunt has plenty of room. Do you think Mary would want to join Ella?”
“I don’t know. I’d feel better if she was nearer Stonewall, but I think she was planning on staying with her mother.”
“Here in Capri?” Bob exclaimed. “But I’ve understood that the women are to be evacuated if the men leave for war.”
By this time the men had reached a gathering of women who had been watching their practice. A plump little woman with soft brown hair swirling about her rosy cheeks ran to Bob and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, darling, I was afraid we would leave before you were finished with your drills.”
“And I was afraid your papa would whisk you away before I could say goodbye,” Bob said, laughing heartily and swinging his wife in a grand circle. “I was sure he would want to start right away.”
“I know, but we don’t even know what the council’s decision will be yet.” Ella pouted.
“John Stafford will never stand for an invasion of Amity. He loves this country more than anyone else. I am sure he will call for action. Obviously your father thinks so too.”
Ella suddenly noticed Bill standing discreetly to one side. “Bill Cotton, bless you,” she said as she came and gave him a hug. “I wanted to ask Mary to come with me, but Bob kept telling me you hadn’t told her about joining the army. Does she know yet?”
Bill blushed deeply as several women turned disapproving eyes in his direction. “I … I told her this morning,” he stammered.
“Bill Cotton!” Ella scolded. “The poor girl hasn’t had time to accept that yet, and you may need to leave anytime now.”
Bill turned a deeper shade of red. “I didn’t want to upset her, in her condition.”
“Her condition is exactly why you should have told her sooner. She should have moved before now,” Ella chided. And then suddenly she changed her tone. “I’m sorry, Bill. I didn’t mean to scold. Do you think she would stay with me?”
“She plans on staying with her mother,” Bill said uneasily. “I haven’t spoken to her mother about it yet. I really should be getting over there.”
“They wouldn’t stay here, would they?” Ella asked with growing concern.
“I don’t know,” Bill croaked.
“You will let them know about my aunt in Waterfront, won’t you? They would both be welcome to stay.” There was a soft pleading in Ella’s voice.
“I will,” Bill said heartily. “I’d best be off, but you have a safe trip. You won’t go all the way tonight, will you?”
“No, I think Father will stop at the Canterbury Inn. He hopes to get that far before dark,” Ella said reassuringly.
Bill nodded his approval and turned to leave. Waving to Bob, he called, “See you tomorrow.”
Bill’s walk across town revealed many people packing carts and wagons hurriedly in preparation to leave. A sense of urgency crept into his heart, and he began to run. Mary’s mother lived above a store named Tinker Trumbell’s Toys. Mary’s father had been a toymaker, and his shop had been the joy of every child in town. Since Tinker’s death, Dolly, Mary’s mother, had kept the shop open and had allowed others in town to display their wares on her shelves.
Trumbell’s store was in a lovely location, set on one of the few paved streets in Capri. Huge cottonwood trees along Orchard Creek lined the street and shaded the houses, from early afternoon until sunset.
Upon reaching the store, Bill lifted the latch and pushed the door ajar. A tiny figurine rang a bell, announcing his arrival. Matronly and well-dressed, Dolly bustled into the room from stockrooms behind the counter.
“Bill Cotton, bless me! Where have you been?” The voice was pleasant but demanding. “I’ve been expecting you to bring Mary for weeks. Is she all right? Is the baby about to come? Well, speak up.”
“I will,” Bill said, laughing, “if you give me a chance. Mary is fine, but she thinks the baby could come very soon. I asked her to come in with me today, but she didn’t feel up to the walk.” Bill’s voice grew serious. “Mother, a lot of people are planning to leave Capri. What are you going to do?”
“Leave!” Dolly said in surprise. “Why?”
“Haven’t you heard? There is trouble at Green Meadow, and there are rumors that Amity might be invaded.”
“Green Meadow.” Dolly snorted in disgust. “That place is always in trouble. I wish it had never been founded. If there is going to be trouble, it will be at Green Meadow. But why should trouble there affect me?”
“Mother, if Green Meadow is invaded, the enemy won’t stop there. They’ll probably come down the Crescent River and steal or destroy everything in their path. I’ve heard rumors that farmsteads on the Western Slope were robbed and burned to the ground. If Amity is invaded, every person, every building, and every animal is in danger. The safest place to be is near the fortress of Stonewall. That’s why Master Johnson may order an evacuation.”
“Who does that bullheaded busybody think he is?” Dolly stormed. “Why should Master Johnson tell me or anyone else where to go? I don’t know anyone in Waterfront, and I have no intention of going there, either. If I must leave town for some strange reason, I’ll just come stay with you. Mary is about to need my help anyway.”
“That won’t be possible, Mother,” Bill said firmly. “I won’t be there if the army is called out. I’ve joined up.”
A long silence ensued as Dolly eyed her son-in-law with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and anger. Finally breaking the awkward silence, she huffed, “Whatever possessed you to do something so totally irrational? Don’t you know you have a wife to care for? And she is about to have your baby!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Bill apologized. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I might have been wrong. Mary’s not happy with me, and neither are you. I truly am sorry!”
Just then the tiny figurine at the front door rang as the next-door neighbor opened the door.
“Hello, Bill,” the old man rasped as he shuffled across the floor. “Have you come to help Dolly move?”
Before Bill could answer, Dolly said sharply, “He has not! This moving idea is ridiculous. We will be perfectly safe here. I, for one, am not going to run scared of a little rumor. If trouble comes—and mind you, I said if—then we will face it head-on.”
“Those are brave words spoken in the comfort of your home, but what will you say when soldiers break in and hold you at the end of a sword?” the old man asked. “Don’t be foolish, Dolly. Master Johnson is wise to request all who can, to leave.”
“But what makes Waterfront safer than Capri?” Dolly asked. “Besides, I don’t know anyone there. Where would I stay?”
Bill answered this time. “The protection of Stonewall is only a ferry ride across the river. Here we have no fortress of stone to slow an attack. There they have both a river and stone walls to keep the enemy out. When under attack, one should always seek the safest shelter. Besides, I just spoke to Ella Walton. She and her mother are going to stay with an aunt who lives in Waterfront. She invited both you and Mary to join them. She said they have plenty of room.”
“That was very kind of Ella to offer her aunt’s home to a total stranger. She shouldn’t be so generous with others’ goods, although it does sound tempting. But I doubt Stonewall could hold everyone.” Dolly now spoke without anger.
“Stonewall will be a good refuge for old folks like us,” Dolly’s neighbor said. “I think you should go.”
Dolly Trumbell’s features hardened. “Old folks like us, you say. Thank you for your opinion, but Mary and I will be staying. Bill, bring Mary with you tomorrow. We ladies will just have to make do without you brave gentlemen, since one of you is running off to war, and one is just running.” With that, she turned and passed quickly from the room.
With nothing more to say, both Bill and Dolly’s neighbor turned to leave. Well, that didn’t go very well, Bill thought. I haven’t done a very good job preparing either of these women for what might come next.
All the way home, Bill felt growing frustration as he watched countless families pack their belongings into carts or wagons. I should have made plans weeks ago. Now I don’t know what to do.