Chapter Five
A week later, on the following Thursday, the Montgomery’s invited the Brady household to celebrate the nation’s first Thanksgiving Day. Since David had no desire to partake in a Northern holiday with strangers and was still unable to come to terms with the deception he was embarking on, he gladly agreed to remain behind. After hitching Alphie, he watched the girls and their aunt ride toward the Montgomery farmstead, visible at the top of a hill about a mile away. He knew he had the opportunity to leave, but his conscience gnawed at him and compelled him to stay. It wasn’t because of Renegade. It was the look in Anna’s eyes, those magnificent blue-green eyes, and the expression on her face when he told her he’d stay. He couldn’t bring himself to disappoint her. She was relying on him.
Entering the kitchen, he sat down at the table and looked over the newspaper while he ate the meal Sarah had prepared for him. He read about another battle that had taken place a few days prior near Lookout Mountain in Tennessee. The reporter referred to it as “the battle above the clouds.” This time, the Confederates didn’t fare so well, and he was glad the family wasn’t there to witness his disappointment. He walked out to the barn and tended to the animals. After checking on Renegade, he led him out to the yard, walked a short distance from him, and whistled. Pricking his ears, Renegade gingerly trotted over to him. David looked at his hoof. The crack was nearly sealed shut, but David was still apprehensive about putting extra weight on it. Perhaps in another month he would start riding him again.
He spent most of the afternoon with his colt, treating him to carrots, handfuls of oats, and an apple before leading him to his stall. On his way back to the house, it dawned on him. This was his chance. He looked upstairs and explored every room in search of his elusive pistol. Coming up empty-handed, he went downstairs and ransacked through the kitchen cupboards. He discovered items he’d never seen before: a bottle of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce, a few cans of Van de Camp’s Pork and Beans, Borden’s Condensed Milk, and Underwood Deviled Ham. He checked the dining room, scoured the parlor, looked under the piano lid, and came upon a loaded shotgun stashed under the upholstered sofa. His search led him out to the front porch, as well as to the spare bedroom across from the parlor now occupied by the girls’ aunt. Still, no pistol appeared. At a loss, he went back upstairs to start again. He found no sign of it in Abigail’s room, but this time he noticed her toys. Along with the patriotic ones she had previously shown him, she owned several dolls, a doll house, and a wooden horse on wheels. All were neatly placed against the walls. The bedroom Anna and Maggie shared held virtually no hiding spaces, except for one loose floorboard where they had hidden twelve silver dollars. He searched the storage closet across from his room but still couldn’t locate his pistol. The quest led him back to his bedroom.
He plopped down on the bed and sat there thinking. An idea came to mind, so he pulled out each dresser drawer and felt around inside but found nothing unusual. He walked across to the armoire, opened the doors, and peered inside. Mr. Brady’s old clothes still hung there. He pushed them aside but failed to see anything out of the ordinary. Reaching inside, he rapped his knuckles against the back while turning his right ear toward the sound to hear. A hollow echo reverberated. He felt inside the back of the dark, wooden wardrobe. Finding a hollowed out groove, he pulled on it. The door slid open. David discovered his missing handgun ensconced in its holster. He withdrew it and smiled at it like it was a long lost friend. Tempted to let out a whoop, he restrained himself and checked inside the chamber instead. Five balls still remained. He put it back in its hiding place, amused he had outsmarted the womenfolk without their knowing it.
Later that evening, when the girls and Sarah returned, he walked out to greet them. “Ladies, did y’all have a nice time?” he asked, smiling like the cat that had eaten the canary. He helped Sarah out of the carriage.
Anna failed to return his smile. “Fine, thank you,” she said, allowing him to assist her. “Would you please unharness Alphie and come inside? We have something to tell you.”
He helped Maggie down. “Had that good of a time, huh?” he sarcastically remarked.
“It isn’t that,” Anna said, quickly turning away.
Abigail smiled sadly at him and tagged behind the others.
Wondering what could be so dire, he led Alphie to the barn, unhitched him, lightly brushed him down, and put him in his stall. After rubbing Renegade gently on the nose, he walked back to the house; but as he entered the kitchen, only grim expressions greeted him.
“David,” Sarah began. “I’m afraid we have unpleasant news to tell you.”
He apprehensively stared at her.
“Today, we learned our beloved Union has gained control of Chattanooga.”
His mouth dropped open. Consumed with remorse, he sank onto a kitchen chair and recalled the train ride he and Jake had taken. Their first night away from home had been spent in Chattanooga. He thought of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, the Confederate infantrymen he and Jake had met on the train, and wondered if they were still alive. Then he remembered Miss Mattie and Miss Martha, the two elderly sisters who had taken him and Jake into their elaborate home and provided them with accommodation before the boys had ventured on to Richmond to join up with General Stuart’s cavalry. His heart ached as he thought of those two rebellious, precious old women. The Yankees were undoubtedly demolishing all that was in their wake, pilfering, ravaging, and defiling everything they could get their hands on. He knew Miss Mattie and Miss Martha’s spectacular townhouse was no exception. In a way, he felt a twinge of sympathy for the loathsome Yankees who were confronted with the scorn of Miss Martha. He wished he could be there to hear her cuss them out. But more than that, he hoped, with all his heart, the dear soul survived the Union Army’s terrible assault.
“I’m so sorry, David,” Anna said softly.
“It’s a sad victory,” Sarah reiterated.
He sat there for a few moments, unable to look at them. Finally, he drew a deep breath.
“Ladies, I’ll see y’all in the mornin’.”
Avoiding eye contact, he walked upstairs to his room, closed the door behind him, and locked it. He sat down on the bed and remembered the two elderly sisters and the loss of his best friend, Jake. His thoughts turned to his father.
If only I could have defended them all somehow, he thought.
His father’s best friend, Bud Samuels, had given David the pistol he now owned. The handgun gave him solace. He walked across the room and pulled his Colt .45 army pistol out from the back of the armoire. Hot tears burned their way out, searing their way down his cheeks. This was yet another defeat for the Confederate cause, and he felt defeated along with it. Once again, his heart burned with all the hatred and contempt he had previously held for his aggressors. He decided he was prepared for any Yankee tyrant who dared try to take him against his will because he was more than eager for the chance to blow a hole through the vermin. On this first Thanksgiving holiday, he had no reason to give thanks. This was war, and he was still willing to fight.
When he awoke the next morning, he felt much calmer until he realized he only had four weeks to create gifts for the sisters and their aunt. He had ideas in mind, so he ventured into the woods and found pieces of timber he thought might be appropriate for what he intended to design. Returning to the barn, he inspected his finds while Renegade watched with his ears pricked.
“Reckon I’ll start with this one, Renie,” he said.
The colt nickered and nodded his head.
“Jist as soon as I git my knife back from Miss Maggie.”
Setting the oblong piece of Cherrywood down, he sauntered into the house to see Sarah standing over the cast-iron stove, stirring the contents of a black kettle.
“Miss Sarah, have you seen Miss Maggie?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder and said, “I believe the girls are in the parlor.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He walked toward the front of the house. Anna and Abigail sat in the dining room, staring down at an issue of Godey’s magazine spread open on the table.
“What y’all lookin’ at?” he asked.
“The latest fashions from Paris,” replied Anna. “Look at this.”
He drew closer, gazing down at drawings of ladies and little girls adorned in gowns and hats. The apparel looked like intricately detailed tents to him, nothing like the practical dresses womenfolk in Alabama wore, except for Callie. He knew she would adore such extravagant costumes. Glad he didn’t have to wear one of those cumbersome contraptions himself, he nearly snorted at the thought.
“They’re all very nice,” he commented. He looked over at Maggie, who was seated behind the sewing machine. “And what is it you’re up to, Miss Maggie?”
“I’m sewing stockings for the Ladies Aide Society. Aunt Sarah asked if I would, and I happily agreed. Anything to benefit our poor soldiers in the hospital.”
David smirked. Raising an eyebrow at her, he said, “I’d like my knife back, if you please.”
“Why, whatever for?” She kept her eyes on the material she was sewing. “What would a Rebel such as yourself want to do with a knife?” She abruptly stopped sewing and glared at him.
He nearly stepped back in reaction to her penetrating stare. “Uh—it’s jist that, I need it to make somethin’,” he stammered.
“Go fetch his knife, Maggie, and stop playing games,” Anna said, rolling her eyes.
Maggie arose, walked past him as he backed away, and went upstairs.
The aroma from the kitchen caught his attention. “What’s your aunt cookin’?” he asked.
“Beef stew,” Abigail said apathetically.
The thought of the savory stew made David’s mouth water. Maggie returned with his knife and handed it to him. He hesitated, thinking she might try to cut him again. Slowly, he made himself extend his hand. Snarling at him, she set it in his palm.
“Thank you,” he said meekly and turned to leave.
“Your English lessons start in one hour!” Anna called after him.
The girls giggled.
He winced at the thought. Returning to the barn, he seated himself atop a bale of hay under a window and commenced to carve. Working diligently, he whistled and sang intermittently to keep his mind distracted from the chill in the air, taking turns with his favorite songs: “Dixie’s Land,” “Cindy,” and “The Bonnie Blue Flag.” Renegade casually munched on his oats, glancing over at him occasionally. Suddenly, he raised his head, pricked his ears, and looked at the barn door. Realizing someone was approaching, David quickly hid his carving.
Anna entered, carrying a journal. “There you are!” She smiled widely at him.
He grinned at her in return and politely stood. Taking notice of her attire, he gawked at her. “Why, Miss Anna, you’re wearin’ trousers,” he stated.
She chuckled. “I had to chase the hogs in, and it’s too difficult running after them in a skirt.”
He hesitantly smiled.
“I come from a family of girls, David, don’t forget. We were taught to do things some people might think unladylike, but my father was a generous man and believed wholly in equality. That’s why I’m against slavery in and of itself.”
“Oh,” he replied self-consciously. “Well, you’ll have to give me some warnin’ next time, so you don’t see what I’m fixin’ to give you for Christmas.”
Her eyes lit up. David thought she looked just like a little girl on Christmas morning, regardless of her garb. For some reason, her tomboyish mannerisms attracted him even more.
“Well!” she gasped, raising her eyebrows. “I’ll be sure to do that.” She came closer to him, making him feel awkward. “It’s time for your lesson,” she announced cheerfully. She wrapped her long overcoat around her slender body, sat down on the bale of hay, and motioned for him to sit next to her.
Shyly smiling, he complied. “What ‘English’ are you fixin’ to teach me?” he asked, grinning at her again.
“Now don’t joke about this,” she said, stifling a snicker. “Stephen will be here for Christmas, and you agreed—”
“Can’t we jist tell him I’m from the South somewhere, instead of Albany?”
“We could, but I think that would make him suspicious. You’ll be surprised at how quickly you pick this up.” She gazed at him, her amazing aqua eyes twinkling.
He grinned back at her. Although he wanted to protest, her disarming smile weakened his opposition. “Will your uncle be here too?” he inquired.
She shook her head. “No, he’s with Claudia’s father. Somewhere in Tennessee, I think.” She glanced down at the sentences she’d written.
David’s heart sank. The thought occurred to him that Anna’s uncle, as well as Sarah’s husband, might be in Chattanooga destroying the city; possibly even destroying Miss Mattie and Miss Martha’s beautiful old mansion.
“Now, what you need to work on are your R’s. Repeat after me. Are you going to the fair tomorrow?” She looked at him.
Quickly recovering from his reaction, he enunciated, but his R’s were soft, and several words had no distinct endings. She repeated the sentence again. He noticed how her breath escaped from her mouth in a soft mist as she spoke. Wondering if the mist had any taste, he felt drawn toward the movement of her lips.
“David?” the sound of his name caused him to look up into her eyes. “Are you even listening?”
“Yes, miss. You said—uh—where do Miss Claudia and her mother live?” he asked, intentionally changing the subject.
“They live in Dover,” she said wryly, slightly annoyed by his lack of concentration. “Mr. Burrows ran a cabinet shop before the war, and Mrs. Burrows, Grace, has been in charge of operations while he’s away. She and Claudia will be here for Christmas. Now let’s try this sentence.” She glanced at her journal, reading, “Where are your manners, sir?” and made him repeat it until he gave up in frustration.
“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to it.”
“Don’t lose heart,” she said, smiling at him. “We have several weeks.”
He sighed in aggravation. “I don’t reckon I can.”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted.” Of course you can, and I’ll help you.”
“Ain’t there some other way to—”
“No. Believe me, the neighbors will take notice of you being here, if they haven’t already. They’ll start asking questions. If we tell them you’re from New York, they’re less likely to become suspicious. Don’t you see? If a Southerner suddenly appears on our farm, they might put two and two together and realize you came up here with the Confederate army.”
He glanced at Renegade, who observed the two of them intently. “I reckon you’re right. I jist don’t want to talk like a damn Yankee.”
“Well, I just want you to talk like a…Yankee.” Anna gazed at him. “You agreed to do this for me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said ambivalently, overcome with shame, frustration, and hatred for his enemies all at once. “I’ll try again.”
They rehearsed several sentences Anna had prepared in advance. When she was satisfied with his progress, she said, “By the time Stephen arrives, you should sound as northern as Uncle Sam himself.”
She grinned, but David wondered what he had gotten himself into.
Noticing his anguished expression and how he was holding his hand up to his temple, she said, “I think we’ve had enough for today,” and closed her journal. She stood looking down at him. “I don’t know why I haven’t asked you this before. Perhaps it’s because I thought I knew the answer.”
“What’s that, Miss Anna?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“Are you betrothed, or do you have a sweetheart?” She turned away. “Never mind, it’s rude of me to ask.”
Caught off-guard by her question, he slowly responded with rectitude, “Why, no, Miss Anna, I ain’t betrothed.”
She turned back to face him. “But there is someone?” she asked. She put her hand over her mouth as though the words had escaped before she’d had a chance to catch them.
He chuckled. Remembering his promise, he drew a heavy sigh and sank back down onto the bale. “Do you recall the tintype of Miss Callie inside Jake’s pocket watch?”
“Your friend’s fiancée?” She drew closer to him.
David nodded. “I made her a promise. If anything should happen to him, I would take his place.”
“Oh, I see,” she softly replied. “So you’re obligated to marry her when you return from the war.”
He glanced at the floor. Feeling her eyes upon him, he looked back up. They hesitated, both caught in each other’s gaze. Anna turned away.
“It’s jist as it is with you and Stephen,” he said. “She’s more like a sister to me. I’ve known her all my life, but I ain’t in love with her.”
Turning back to face him, she gave him a sad smile. “But you did make a promise.” She started for the door. “Dinner will be ready in an hour,” she said and walked out of the barn.
Feeling his heart tug after her, he found it intriguing she displayed an interest in his romantic endeavors. The idea of marrying Callie saddened him. He knew he could never take Jake’s place, nor did he want to. He was caught between two worlds.
If we will break up our government, dissolve the Confederacy,
disband our armies, emancipate our slaves, take an oath of allegiance binding ourselves to him and to disloyalty to our states,
he proposes to pardon us and not to plunder us of anything
more than the property already stolen from us.
—Confederate President Jefferson Davis
On President Lincoln’s Amnesty Offer
December 1863