AT FIRST there was some discussion about Seth coming back to his place with us at all. Since the destruction of Lawrence, Kansas, the 450 men in Quantrill’s band had been on the run, setting up camps in different places. They were pursued by home-guard units, civilian posses, cavalry troops, and militia who were out to kill them.
These Yankee searchers combed woods, fields, houses, and barns. They came upon men at their supper tables and shot them dead. They, who criticized the method of killing employed by Quantrill’s men in Lawrence, hanged men working in their barnyards, whether they had taken part in the Lawrence killings or not.
By the end of August they had killed at least eighty men. They took no prisoners. Now, in September, the military had run out of ammunition, their horses were worn down, and the officers were discouraged and disorganized.
But still, a meeting between a Yankee and any member of Quantrill’s band meant certain death for one or the other.
Seth wanted to seek out and rejoin Quantrill, who had established a new camp on the Stanley farm, which was soon discovered by the federals. So he moved to a new site on the east fork of the Little Blue River, only to be discovered again. All the time he was out searching for me, Seth kept getting intelligence, via a messenger, as to where Quantrill was. After all, Seth was important to Quantrill. He was a captain.
Next, Quantrill bivouacked at Joe Dillingham’s farm, a good hideout because it had only one route in. Still, just about the time we set off for Seth’s farm, Quantrill passed the word along that his men should meet on September 30 at Captain Perdee’s farm on the Blackwater River in Johnson County.
Having received that intelligence, Seth decided to go with us to his place. After all, he did yearn to see Martha. And it was only September 12. There was time yet to meet up with Quantrill.
The first thing Seth did was change his clothes for the trip home. Off came the gray Quantrill shirt with the red stitching. The baggy trousers, another sign of Quantrill’s men, got pulled out of the high cavalry boots and the four revolvers worn around the hips were reduced to two.
He had Sue Mundy cut his hair, after which she started off to join Quantrill. Most of the Raiders had longer hair and Seth had his cut to look more conventional. He had started growing sideburns and so he shaved them off. The hat with the round brim went and was replaced with a Confederate soldier’s cap, which he’d kept in his saddlebags.
Now he was ready.
We rode through what was already being called “the burnt district,” the area that had been put to the torch by the Yankees. Everything, all the forests and hills, the fenced-in pastureland, the bushes and trees, was burned to a crisp. Not to mention the farmland and the barns and houses.
Some of the barns and houses still smoked. The district went on forever, it seemed. And it made one want to choke with the smell of it.
WHEN WE got to Seth’s place, it was like coming upon heaven itself after days of traveling through hell. The world turned green again as we went down the only path in the burnt woods leading to it. Of course, the whole house being made of logs and concealed by trees, you could scarce see it. And you had to cross a creek to get there. But once in the holler, it was like another world.
Seth led the way, right down to the barn. And for an instant it was as if there were no war. All around me I could see crops in the fields, crops being brought in, wood being stacked for the winter. Seth dismounted and paused, his hands on his hips. “Maxine,” he said, “gave orders for the winter wheat to be planted, and brought in the corn and potatoes, and has seen to it that the hogs got fattened. I saw some of it when I brought Martha home. But now it’s harvesttime.”
And then he saw a large figure in men’s clothing coming out of the barn. “Maxine? It all looks beautiful.”
“Sure does, Master Seth. Somebody had to see to it or these lazy nigras you have here would spend all their time playing cards.”
“How many people are left, Maxine?”
“Eight, not countin’ me.”
“So you’re the overseer now?”
“Glad to give the job back to whichever fool wants it,” she said.
“The Yankees been about?”
“They come once. Took two cows, so we got no milk, ’ceptin’ what we gets from those two nanny goats of yours. Juliet, what trouble you got yourself into now?”
A nigra took the reins of our horses. Seth turned toward the house. “As long as the war is on, Maxine, this place belongs to Sue Mundy. She’s a favorite with the Yankees. If they knew it was mine, they’d burn it. How’s Martha?”
“She’s tolerable, Master Seth. Walkin’ ’round a bit more every day. Missin’ you somethin’ fierce. Juliet, you look like that bandage on your head went to war, too. Master Seth, Martha’s on the couch in the parlor. She has a powerful yearnin’ for some milk, real milk, sir. Know anybody who’s got a cow to sell?”
“No. Look, I’ll be overseer for the time I’m here. You care for the women.”
“How long would that be, sir?”
“Two weeks, I’d say, but it’ll give you a break. Juliet, why don’t you go inside with Maxine and she’ll fix you up. Maxine, this little piece of baggage here needs rest. Put her to bed.”
“Seth!” I whined.
“No back talk, Juliet. I have enough troubles.”
It was the roughest he’d talked to me since Sue Mundy had brought me back.
MARTHA WAS still hurting in her side and on remedies to help her heal. She was so glad to see us that I thought she was going to squeeze the lifeblood out of Seth, she hugged him so. Right in front of me, too. I have to say that Seth did his share of squeezing and kissing.
I didn’t leave the room because Martha didn’t want me to. I waited patiently. And when they were finished with this decorous hello, Martha pointed to a pile of clothing on a nearby chair. “I’ve been working on all that,” she said. “And it’s for you.”
There were two dresses, two chemises, two nightgowns, and some underthings, all made out of the softest cotton. I thanked her and gave her my own hug, and she showed me a dress she was working on for herself. Then Seth sent me upstairs where Maxine was waiting to help me clean up and give me remedies for the cuts on my face.
He came up to see me when I was in bed in the room he had designated for me. He had something in his hand, held half behind his back. “I wanted to give you this,” he said.
And he handed me the rag doll that had belonged to Charity McCorkle Kerr. The one Bill Anderson had taken from me. My eyes widened as I held my hands out for it. By now this doll had become more than a doll for me. It was the symbol of all I had been through, all I’d learned and suffered.
“But Bill took it from me,” I said.
“I found it in his possessions when I sent him on his way. I took it back.”
I hugged it close. “Thank you, Seth.”
He came over and kissed my cheek. “Want you to stay in bed a couple of days,” he said with another kind of roughness now, a roughness that meant fondness, a fondness he was almost ashamed to admit. “Hear me?”
“Yes, Master Seth, I hear you.”
He tugged at my hair. “You get better,” he said. “Those are orders from the captain. And oh, listen. I just told Martha what happened to you, how Bill kidnapped you. She’s really upset over it. Don’t bring the subject up unless she does.” He touched his eye. “I had to admit that Bill and I had a fight. Just be careful what you say to her, all right?”
I said yes. I would be careful.