Chapter Twenty-Nine
The two men rode toward a small country church on horseback. As they approached, they cautiously looked around. Wagons and carriages waited outside the chapel, but the grounds were empty.
“I don’t see any Yankee soldiers around,” David remarked.
Patrick shrugged. “Could be they’re all inside.”
Voices from the congregation singing “Jesus Lover of my Soul” filtered outside the chapel. The music stopped. Mourners spilled out into the adjoining cemetery. David and Patrick dismounted, tied their steeds, removed their hats, and walked toward the gathering. Rubbing his fingertips against the bandage wrapped around his head, David tried to scratch the itchy abrasion underneath. Anna caught sight of him. She slowly shook her head. He moved his hand away from the bandage and stood at the edge of the group next to Patrick.
“I am the resurrection and the life,” the white-haired pastor began, standing over the coffin as he read from the book in his hand.
Dressed in a white robe, he seemed to tower over the others. Nearly everyone else was attired in black mourning clothes. Some of the ladies wore black veils over their faces, but Anna and her two sisters wore dark brown bonnets on their heads.
The pastor’s baritone voice droned monotonously. “He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. I will ransom them from the power of the grave. I will redeem them from death. O death, I will be thy plague. O grave, I will be thy destruction. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth, yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors and their works do follow them.”
David felt a chill. He glanced up. Dark clouds were beginning to billow over the hillside, and five large black turkey buzzards circled overhead. He looked at Patrick, who gave him a somber visage in return.
“Eternal and unchangeable God,” the pastor continued, “who hast in thy hands the life of all creatures, and who art the judge of the quick and the dead, enable us to lay to heart the solemn lessons which are addressed to us on this mournful occasion. Teach us so to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. Mercifully incline us to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling while it is called today, knowing that the night of death cometh in which no man can work. Help us to live by faith on the Son of God, that when Christ, who is our life shall appear, we may also appear with him in glory.”
Some members of the group noticed the two young men standing behind them and turned to stare. David felt his face flush. Looking down at the ground, he gently pushed a stone around with the toe of his boot.
The pastor went on with his liturgy. “Graciously remember those who mourn over this afflicting dispensation. May they with us be reminded of their own mortality, and be led to prepare to meet their God. May they set their affections on things that are in heaven, and not on things that are on the Earth. May the exceeding great and precious promises of thy word comfort the hearts of those who fear Thee. And let them find by their own experience that all things work together for good to them that love thee. Grant us, O Lord, these petitions for Jesus sake. Amen.”
“Amen,” the congregation echoed solemnly.
A few of the women sobbed. The small group filed past the coffin, and some mourners placed red and white roses on the lid. They slowly drifted from the graveyard, boarded their vehicles, and started away.
David clenched his teeth. Of all things, he didn’t want to go over there, but he knew he had to. Feeling slightly woozy, he balanced himself and stepped toward the pastor. Anna and her sisters glared at him through tear-filled eyes. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. He saw Grace standing beside Sarah, so he walked over to her.
“Miss Grace,” he said quietly, “I’m as sorry as I can be for your loss.”
She smiled at him through her veil and embraced him. “Thank you, my dear,” she whispered before releasing him.
He stepped back and looked around at his family’s grief-stricken faces. Slowly, he approached the coffin. Gazing down at the small pine box, he bit his lower lip hard to suppress his sorrow.
“Claudia was but a wee thing,” Patrick remarked, standing next to him.
David nodded, too choked up to speak.
They watched as two attendees looped ropes around the coffin and hoisted it down into the grave. Collecting their spades, the two pallbearers began filling the hole with reddish-brown earth. Grace and Sarah wept. When the sad task was completed, the assistants departed. The pastor, after offering final condolences, returned to the church. Gray clouds had moved in to cover the entire sky, and cold drops began to fall. David walked over to Anna.
“What are you doing here? The doctor explicitly told you to stay home in bed,” she softly scolded, taking his hand. “I saw you fussing with your bandage.”
“It itches,” he replied.
Patrick stifled a snicker.
“I had to come, Anna,” David said. “We both did.”
He looked over at Patrick, who offered her a hug and a smile. Maggie took Abigail by the hand and sadly glanced at David before leading her distraught little sister to the landau. Grace, Sarah, Bill, and another man David assumed was Grace’s husband all boarded the carriage. Rain started to fall steadily, causing David to shiver from the chill.
“Why does it always rain when there’s a funeral?” he asked remorsefully.
Anna sympathetically smiled. “I’m riding with Aunt Sarah. You and Patrick are welcome to come, but you’re going to get drenched. I do wish you’d go home and get back into bed, though.”
Gingerly, she walked through the puddles to the landau and climbed in. Bill prompted Alphie down the road.
“Well, what shall we do, then?” inquired Patrick.
Placing his slouch hat on his head, David carefully pulled it over his bandaged wound. “Reckon we should follow,” he suggested.
“Are ye feelin’ up to it, lad?”
He nodded in response.
They walked over to where Renegade and Erin were standing, stepped up onto their horses, and trotted down the road behind the landau for nearly a mile.
“I still can’t figure out how I missed that shot,” David remarked.
“‘Tis for the best that ye didn’t murder him.”
He shook his head. “We’d all be better off if I had.”
“Aye. But Stephen’s father would’ve come after ye if you’d have killed him, and then where would ye be?”
The men exchanged glances. David knew Patrick was right.
When they reached the Burrows’ home in Dover, they dismounted, tied their steeds, and shook the moisture from their hats before walking inside. Mourners in the parlor looked over to see who had entered. David glanced around the room. He didn’t recognize anyone, except for his own family and Grace. A tintype of Claudia, dressed in a frilly gown, was displayed above the fireplace. Toys sat beside the photograph, which David assumed must have been her favorites. He noticed the stereograph Stephen had given her the Christmas before last. Next to it, he saw the wooden carousel he had carved for her. His heart ached at the sight of it.
“It’s a terrible thing when a child dies.”
He turned to see Bill and the man from the church.
“This is Claudia’s father, Theodore,” Bill introduced.
The slender man sadly smiled and extended his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Summers,” he acknowledged.
They shook hands.
“She was a very special young lady,” David remarked, not knowing what more to say.
Theodore released his grasp and shook Patrick’s hand.
“Aye, and she’ll be greatly missed,” Patrick added.
“Thank you,” the slender gentleman replied. “Pardon me.”
He walked over to Grace and slid his hand around her waist. She laid her head upon his shoulder.
“It’s my understanding that Claudia had been unwell for some time,” Bill stated.
David remembered the day he had witnessed her seizure. He shuddered.
Noticing his reaction, Bill asked, “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yessir,” he replied.
Anna noticed as well, so she quickly made her way across the room. “David?” she inquired worriedly.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. He started to rub the wound on his head, but she gently pulled his hand away.
“You look pale. Go home and get into bed. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Before he had a chance to object, she said, “Patrick, please see to it that he gets home and help him put more mustard plasters on his wound.”
“Of course, me dear.” He turned to David. “Well, lad, ‘tis the end of it, then. Time to take you back.” Waiting for Anna to wander from earshot, he concluded, “If Anna says so, then it must be done. We all know how she’s got ye tied to her apron strings.”
David frowned at him. “Very funny,” he grumbled.
He and Patrick offered the Burrows their condolences once again before walking out into the rain. When they arrived back at the Brady farm, they went inside to indulge in a pint of whiskey. David’s stomach cramps had subsided. Just as Doctor Spencer had predicted, he was feeling much better, except for the gash in his forehead. The two men shed their wet outerwear, sat at the kitchen table, and passed the bottle between them.
“Don’t ye dare tell your wife I’ve been corruptin’ ye,” Patrick said and handed the whiskey to his friend. They chuckled. “Have ye heard about Stephen yet?”
Picking up the lavender bottle, David tilted his head back. He took a swig of the amber liquid, swallowed with a wince, and shook his head.
“Tomorrow ‘tis the Fourth of July. Ye might be hearin’ somethin’ then,” said Patrick.
David grunted. “Reckon Montgomery will bring a lynch mob with him, jist like he promised.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow at him. “He threatened to hang ye?”
“Yup.”
“Well then, perhaps ye and Anna should be off to Alabama straight away.”
“Naw. I ain’t fixin’ to go back down to Dixie jist to run away from that rascal,” David said with a grin. “Anna and I will head south when we’re good and ready. If Stephen wants me dead, he’ll have to come here and face me. I’m waitin’ for him.”
“Aye,” Patrick said. “Sure’n t’will be a sad day in hell when the spirit’s gone out of ye.” The two men snickered. “What happened, by the way?” he asked. “I know Stephen showed up here four days ago, and the two of ye had a scuffle. Then what happened, pray tell?”
David shrugged and took another pull from the bottle. “Anna told me I shot him, but Bill sent him home before she had a chance to find out how badly he’d been wounded. All Bill would tell her was that Montgomery would be all right. But then Miss Claudia passed, so the entire weekend has been consumed with funeral arrangements and tears.” He glanced across the table at him. “I do remember this, Patrick. He hit her, and I wish my aim would’ve been better for that.”
Patrick shook his head in disgust. “Too bad I wasn’t here to witness the wanker’s shenanigans. Sure’n my aim would’ve been accurate.” He took a gulp from the bottle. “I knew a confrontation would occur sooner or later betwixt the two of ye. How’s your head?”
“Hurts like hell,” he replied.
“Well, we’d best be gettin’ ye upstairs then before your missus discovers you’ve been drinkin’.” He stood. “Anna said ye suffered a concussion, and she’ll have me hide if she finds out what we’ve been up to.” He helped David steady himself on his feet before following him upstairs.
“She won’t,” David reassured him. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boots. “Oh,” he moaned. “I forgot the plasters.”
“I’ll fetch them,” Patrick offered. He went downstairs and promptly returned. “Here ye are now, lad.” After helping him apply the plasters to the wound on his forehead, he said, “Get some rest. I’ll be seein’ ye tomorrow.” He thumped down the steps.
David heard the back door close. His head began to throb. The whiskey tasted good, but so far, it didn’t do anything to ease his pain. He lay back, closed his eyes, and listened to the rain spatter against the windowpanes.
After a few hours, the family returned home, brokenhearted. Anna lay down beside him, weeping, and awoke him with a tender kiss.
“Anna?” he whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry, darlin’. It’ll be all right. We all knew she was ailin’.”
She sighed, smiled at him, and gently stroked his bandaged head. “It’s still very hard to let go. I feel badly for Abigail. She loved her so.”
David kissed her. “I know. And our leavin’ won’t help ease her pain any, either.”
Anna sat up. “About that.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “We can’t leave.”
He glared at her in the fading twilight. “Why not?”
“Doctor Spencer says you’re going to need two more additional weeks of bedrest. I told him about our plans, and he advised against taking such a big trip until you’re fully recovered. He estimated four to five weeks.” She turned to face him and said, “I know you miss your family, but perhaps this is for the best. Abigail has told me over and over again how happy she is you’re home. Spending some time with her, especially now, will be good for the both of you.”
Knowing he couldn’t deny her request, he nodded slightly, causing the gash in his forehead to ache. “You’re right, of course. Did the doc say when he’ll be back to take out my stitches?”
“In two weeks.”
He reached around her, gently pulling her down beside him. “Well then, m’lady, I reckon you’ll have to provide me with lots of tenderness for the next two weeks, so’s I’ll heal faster.”
She giggled. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.
The following day, July 4, started out like any other day. Patrick arrived in the afternoon. While the women prepared side dishes, the men enjoyed a game of horseshoes. A pit had been dug in the backyard, and the men took turns rotating a spring pig over the crackling embers. Patrick and David looked on while Bill took his turn at the spit. They heard a church bell peal in the distance.
“Are they fixin’ to do that all day?” David complained.
“Well, lad, ‘tis the first July Fourth since the war’s end,” Patrick observed. He took a sip of lemonade.
David sighed. “More than anything, I wish for the South and North to be unified again.”
Bill glanced at him.
“But I don’t rightly know if I can celebrate it like I did before,” David continued, shaking his head. “The folks in Vicksburg won’t soon forget, neither.”
“All in due time,” Bill said.
“No sign of a lynch mob yet,” Patrick remarked.
“Reckon Montgomery’s too scared to show his face around here again,” said David.
He glanced over as Anna brought out a bowl from the kitchen and set it on a wooden table the men had positioned under an oak tree. Maggie, Abigail, and Sarah followed, each carrying a bowl of food.
Sarah walked over to where Patrick and David were standing. “Everything’s ready,” she announced.
“This little fella’s done,” Bill said, referring to the cooked pig.
The family collected plates, accepted slices of pork Bill carved from the spit, and seated themselves around the table.
“Let us give thanks,” Bill said.
The gathering bowed their heads.
“Heavenly, Father, we thank Thee for this food, for health and strength, and for all things good. Thank you for ending the war and for bringing us together on this momentous day. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone repeated.
Sarah and Anna started passing bowls around. David eagerly scooped large helpings from the contents of each bowl onto his plate.
“Well,” commented Sarah, “It looks as though your appetite’s returned.” She smiled at him.
He hadn’t realized how much food he’d actually taken and was embarrassed by his gluttony. “Oh. Forgive me for takin’ so much.”
“Don’t be silly,” Anna said. “There’s plenty for everyone. We’re just happy you’re feeling better.”
He grinned from across the table at her and started eating ravenously. Looking up, he saw everyone watching him intently. “This is mighty good,” he complimented. “It reminds me of the barbeques we have back home. Or at least, we used to.” He took a long drink of lemonade.
“I’m sure they still do, dear,” Sarah consoled.
“I know you miss your family, but you’ll see them again soon,” Maggie reassured him.
He smiled at her appreciatively. Noticing her little sister sitting next to her, playing with her food, he remarked, “Miss Abigail, you’re awful quiet.”
She shrugged. “I just miss Claudia.”
Maggie gave her a hug. “We all do, sweetheart, but she’s with the angels now, and she would want you to eat.”
Abigail glanced up at the sky. Looking around the table, her eyes met David’s. He prodded her with a nod and a smile, so she stopped swirling the food on her plate.
“I don’t want you to go, David, or you either, Anna,” she said before taking a small bite.
The newlyweds looked at each other.
“We’ll talk about that later,” Anna said and wisely changed the topic. “After we’re done eating, I think we should go swimming.”
Abigail’s eyes lit up. “Okay,” she agreed.
Following dinner, the sisters went for a swim in the pond while David and Patrick sat outside under the shade of the sycamore trees.
David’s head started throbbing again. He put his hand to his bandage. “Patrick, do you have any more whiskey?”
He snickered. “Askin’ an Irishman if he’s got whiskey is like askin’ a cow if she’s got milk!” Rising to his feet, he said, “I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!” He strolled off toward his mare, mounted, and prompted Erin down the path.
David stood. He scratched his itchy back against the trunk of one of the trees like a mangy bear. Slouching down onto his chair, he closed his eyes and listened to Bill and Sarah converse from inside the kitchen. The gentle hum of their voices lulled him. He nodded off.
“David.”
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Stephen stood over him. He abruptly sat up. “What’re you doin’ here?” he groggily growled.
Stephen frowned.
“How’d you git onto this property without anyone seein’ you?”
“I waited until everyone was gone.” He sat down across from David. “I owe you an apology.”
David glared at him. He shook his head in an attempt to disengage the cobwebs. Rubbing his hand over his bandaged forehead, he muttered, “Did I jist hear you right?”
“Yes.”
“What about the lynch mob? I’ve been waitin’ all weekend for them to show up.”
Stephen snorted. “There won’t be any lynch mob.” He glanced around the yard. “Where’s Anna?”
“Down at the swimmin’ hole with her sisters, but I reckon she won’t take kindly to seein’ you here today.”
“No. That’s why I wanted to speak with you alone first.” He rose to his feet.
David noticed the bandage wrapped around his right hand that extended halfway up his arm. “How’d you explain that away?” he inquired, motioning toward Stephen’s hand.
With a smirk, he replied, “I told everyone I encountered a bandit on the road to Harrisburg.”
“A bandit?” David arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, that’s right. The bandit wounded me and made off with my goods, which is exactly what you did, isn’t it, David?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Stephen scowled. “You stole my Anna. The only woman I have ever truly loved.” He glanced over in the direction of the pond. “Tell her I’ll be back tonight. I need to talk to her.” Turning on his heels, he walked off.
“I’ll tell her,” David hollered after him. “But she ain’t gonna want to listen!” He snorted. Jist like him to make up a lie like that, he thought. Now everyone thinks he’s a hero. Shaking his head in disgust, he pulled himself up out of his chair and sauntered toward the house.
Toward dusk, the family sat outside, watching the stars and enjoying the warm evening air. They heard fireworks explode in the distance. Occasionally, they saw one rise up over the dark horizon to intermingle with the glittering fireflies. After a while, the ladies went inside, so David, Patrick, and Bill exchanged pulls from one of the whiskey bottles Patrick had delivered.
“‘Tis a fine evenin’ indeed,” Patrick sighed happily. “Perhaps we’ll be blessed, and he won’t be back.”
“Oh, he’ll be back,” David confidently predicted.
He lifted the bottle to his lips. Seeing Anna glance out the window at him, he quickly handed it to Patrick, who corked it before stuffing it under his shirt. Bill observed them and chuckled.
“David?” she called out from the porch. “Aren’t you getting eaten up by mosquitoes by now?”
“Yes, dear!” Patrick replied for him in a mocking, high-pitched voice.
He and Bill chortled.
“Come inside then!” she ordered.
David looked at Patrick, who smirked and said, “A Southern man doesn’t stand a chance with a woman like our darlin’ Anna.”
Bill laughed again. He and Patrick went inside, and David followed. Anna quickly took him by the hand. She gave him a kiss, immediately weakening his defenses. He was hers, heart and soul. Because he was so hopelessly in love with her, he knew he was doomed to forever endure the ridicule of others. The family started toward the parlor.
“I heard Patrick tease you,” Sarah whispered to him. “Don’t let it bother you, dear. What you and Anna have is very special. I’ve known it all along. He sees that as well, and I’m sure he wishes it for himself.”
David shrugged, giving her a crooked smile. “I told him about the young lady I met on the way home, Briana. She’s very nice, and Irish too, but he didn’t seem interested.”
“Well, that’s only because he doesn’t know her. Perhaps I’ll request Patrick’s assistance one day soon, and we’ll go investigate this Briana.”
She raised her eyebrows suggestively, which took him by surprise and made him chuckle. He followed her into the parlor.
“Abigail, we would all love to hear you play a song,” Anna coaxed.
Her little sister sighed. “I don’t feel much like playing, Anna,” she replied. Her eyes grew bright. “I know!” She sprang over to the guitar David had brought home with him and picked it up. “David,” she said, carrying it over to him, “why don’t you play us a song?”
Stunned for a moment, he replied, “Oh, Miss Abigail, I don’t—”
“Please?” she whined. “It would make me feel ever so much better.”
With a shy smile, he took the instrument from her. “Well, all right.”
Squealing with glee, she clapped her hands. The rest of the family followed suit by applauding.
If this is what it takes to make her forget her sorrow, then I’ll be happy to oblige, he thought.
Seating himself at the piano bench, he balanced the guitar on his knee, tuned it quickly with the piano, and said, “This here’s a song I learned when I was soldierin’.” He plucked on a few of the strings at once. Finding his key, he began to strum. “Y’all sing along on the refrain,” he requested. He strummed a bar and started singing.
“The shades of night were fallin’ fast. Tra la la! Tra la la! The bugler blew his well known blast. Tra la la la la. No matter be there rain or snow, that bugler still is bound to blow.”
He hesitated before singing the chorus.
“Up-i-di-i de-i da! Up-i-de! Up-i-da! Up-i-di-i de-i da! Up-i-de-i-da!”
He chuckled and said, “And don’t ask me what that means.”
His audience laughed.
With a grin, he started into the next verse. This time, the family joined him in singing the tra-la-las.
“He saw, as in their bunks they lay. Tra la la! Tra la la! How soldiers spent the dawning day. Tra la la la la. ‘There’s too much comfort there,’ said he, ‘and so I’ll blow the ‘Reveille’.’”
David sang the chorus again. Anna picked it up, as did Maggie. Soon they were all singing with him. He delved into the next several verses, trying to remember the words as best he could.
“…But soldiers, you are made to fight. Tra la la! Tra la la! To starve all day and march all night. Tra la la la la! Perchance, if you get bread and meat, that bugler will not let you eat. Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de! Up-i-da! Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de-i-da!
“Oh hasten then, that glorious day. Tra la la! Tra la la! When buglers shall no longer play. Tra la la la la! When we, through peace, shall be set free from ‘Tattoo’, ‘Taps’, and ‘Reveille’. Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de! Up-i-da! Up-i-de-i de-i da! Up-i-de-i-da!”
The audience exploded with laughter and applause. He stood, took a slight bow, and grinned bashfully. Immediately, he regretted doing so, because he became lightheaded and swooned. Anna came over to steady him.
“I know what you’ve been up to,” she whispered. “I can smell it on your breath.”
He winked at her. “Anna, there’s somethin’ I forgot to tell you.” He handed the guitar to Maggie. “Montgomery stopped by earlier, and he said he’d be back here tonight.”
Her eyes grew wide as she glared at him. “If he comes here, I don’t want anything to do with him.” She stormed off into the kitchen.
The others watched her go, not knowing what to do or say.
“I think if he shows up tonight, we should chase him off,” said Sarah. “And let him know he’s not welcome here.”
“The thing is,” said Bill, “he’ll be back around whether we like it or not. I think we should confront him, but keep a close eye on him so he doesn’t have a chance to attack Anna again.”
David nodded in agreement. He walked over to the sofa and sat down beside Abigail.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Will you teach me to play the guitar before you leave?” she asked.
“Of course, I will,” he replied.
He gently squeezed her little hand. She smiled up at him. Unable to resist, he smiled back. A tap came at the front door.
“Well, we all know who that is,” Sarah remarked. She went to answer it. As expected, in walked Stephen. His sister, Mary, followed him.
“Hello, all,” he greeted upon entering. “Happy July Fourth.”
No one responded. The air grew thick enough to cut with a knife. An awkward, uncomfortable silence ensued.
Mary walked into the parlor and took a seat beside Maggie. “Hello, Maggie,” she said, glaring at David.
“Mary,” she stiffly acknowledged.
“I was wondering if, perhaps tomorrow or the next day, you’d like to accompany me to Dover,” she requested.
Maggie shrugged. “Perhaps,” she replied.
“Did you tell her I was coming?” Stephen asked David, his expression surprisingly apprehensive.
“She knows.” He stood and walked into the kitchen. To his chagrin, Stephen followed. “Anna, your neighbor is here,” he announced.
She abruptly turned from the coffee urn to face him. “I told you, David. I have nothing to say to this—this tyrant.”
“Anna, I beg of you, please hear me out,” Stephen pleaded.
Patrick entered the kitchen, took a seat at the table, and observed with intense interest, like he was watching a play unfold.
“I know what I did was wrong,” Stephen continued. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me. I was upset. You assaulted me with shocking news. How did you expect me to react?”
“Without violence,” Patrick interjected.
“Without raising your hand to my wife,” David emphasized angrily.
Stephen ignored their remarks. “I have had several days to think about what happened. It takes a big man to admit when he’s wrong. Anna, I have always cared for you deeply, and I was under the misconception that you might love me as well. But now I find out this Johnny—” He stopped. Motioning toward David, he corrected himself. “This boy—”
David scowled at him, bristling at the reference.
“—has taken my rightful place. If that’s your decision, then I am humbled to accept it. I was acting out of selfishness before, and I understand that now. I was only thinking of your best interests. Please, darling girl, please forgive me for lashing out at you.”
He looked down at the floor and fell to his knees in front of her. David and Patrick gawked at each other in skeptical disbelief, awestruck by the spectacle before them.
“I think he’s had more to drink than we have,” Patrick muttered.
“Stephen, I don’t know what to say,” Anna said softly. “Except this. What you did was despicable, and I don’t think I can ever trust you again.”
She crossed her arms in defiance, but her emotions got the best of her. She started to sob.
Stephen scrambled to his feet. Before he could touch her, David quickly intercepted to embrace her. Abigail, Mary, and Maggie came into the room to see Stephen staring forlornly at the newlyweds.
“It’s obvious you’re in love with someone else,” he said to Anna. “I just don’t understand why you lied to me.” He frowned and glanced at Mary, who nodded at him encouragingly.
“I had to,” Anna explained. “He came to us all bleeding, and I had to save him. And then one thing led to another, and, well, here we are.” She looked up at her husband, who smiled at her.
“The war is over, Stephen,” Maggie stated. “You can’t prosecute him now.”
“You need to forgive and forget,” added Abigail.
Mary snorted. “Why, whatever are all of you talking about?” she inquired, gazing around the room.
David glanced at Stephen, realizing he hadn’t told her of his Confederate affiliation.
“It’s nothing, Mary,” Stephen replied esoterically. “Anna and David are married, and that’s that.”
Curling her upper lip in repulsion, Mary asked snidely, “Dear brother, are you ready to return home?”
“Yes, Mary.”
Anna looked down at Stephen’s wrapped wrist. “Will you be all right?” she asked.
He simpered. “Doctor Spencer says I’ll probably lose the use of my right hand, and I’ll have a scar on my wrist to always remind me of where I was shot.” His smirk turned into a frown.
“Oh, well,” Abigail sighed. “You’ll just have to learn to be left-handed, like David.”
Stephen grunted.
David raised an eyebrow at him.
Patrick suppressed a snicker.
“Please walk us out,” Stephen requested to no one in particular.
He started toward the front door with his sister. Anna and David followed.
“Good evening, all,” Stephen called out to Sarah and Bill as he passed by the parlor.
“Good night,” Sarah tersely replied.
The foursome walked out onto the front porch.
Brushing up against David as she passed, Mary glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Such a waste,” she sighed. “We would have been so good together.” She stepped up and seated herself in the carriage.
Stunned by her utterance, David gawked at her.
Stephen looked at him. “I know you could have killed me,” he said quietly, so his sister wouldn’t overhear. “And I know I probably would have deserved it.”
David snorted. “Probably?”
Turning toward Anna, Stephen said, “Please think about what I said. We’ve known each other since we were children, and I don’t want you to start hating me now, just because of a stupid mistake I made.”
She said nothing.
Stephen climbed up onto the driver’s seat of his carriage and gathered the reins.
The vehicle started down the lane.
“Mary certainly has a lot of nerve,” Anna remarked sarcastically, taking her husband’s arm. “‘We would have been so good together’,” she mocked.
Amused by her jealous reaction, he grinned at her. “Let’s go back inside. The mosquitoes are eatin’ me up.”
Three days later, on July 7, Mary Surrat and three others were hanged for conspiracy in the assassination of President Lincoln. She was the first woman executed in the United States, and some said they thought she was innocent, including Anna. According to newspaper reports, it took the three male conspirators over five minutes to die. Rumors abounded that John Wilkes Booth had escaped death and was hiding down South or out West. David wondered if he might run into the man, but doubted he would be able to recognize him.
The following week, he received a letter from home. When Sarah presented the envelope to him, he eagerly tore it open and read it aloud to Anna.
“Dear David and Anna,
We were so pleased to hear of your news and look forward in great anticipation to the day we shall see you again. Please let us know when we might expect you. Your sisters are excited for your return, as is Callie. I have not told her of your news, and thought it best she hear it from you. My dear son, Godspeed in returning home to us. Our hearts race with the thrill of seeing you, and we long to embrace you once again.
Your lovin’ mother.”
Once he had finished reading, David smiled and looked up at Anna.
“I don’t think they want me to come,” she said. “There’s nothing in that letter about me. I don’t think they want to have anything to do with me.”
“What?” he said with a laugh. “Like you always say, darlin’, don’t be silly. It says right here, dear David and Anna.”
“Yes, but the rest makes no mention of me. And why hasn’t anyone told Callie?”
He shrugged. “Ma wants me to tell her, like it says.”
Anna’s expression turned somber, so he wrapped his arms around her.
“Come on, Anna. They’ll love you, I promise.”
“You can’t make that promise.” She pulled away, stomped upstairs, and slammed the bedroom door behind her.
He looked at Sarah, who smiled dolefully.
“Now here I am, feelin’ guilty again for what I have to do.” He glowered.
Folding her arms in front of her, Sarah said, “Well, dear, there’s nothing wrong with taking Anna down for a visit. But you must realize she and your family might not get along.”
“Pshaw,” David responded. “I know my kinfolk. She jist needs to git past all the butterflies in her stomach.”
Sarah smiled. “How long do you intend to stay in Alabama?”
He rubbed his hand against his head wound. “Well, to be honest, Miss Sarah, I have no desire to tolerate another winter up North. I was thinkin’ maybe we’d stay for a spell, at least till next spring.”
Abigail entered, carrying the guitar. “David, please show me how to play…” Overhearing his words, she stopped short. “You’re not coming back until next year?” Her eyes grew as big as saucers.
“We ain’t really decided yet, Miss Abigail,” he explained. “I reckon Anna jist wants to wait and see what’s fixin’ to happen first.”
“You can’t take her away for that long,” Abigail wailed. Thrusting the guitar at him, she ran upstairs to her room.
David threw a sad glance at Sarah. Guitar in hand, he followed his younger sister-in-law upstairs, walked past the doorway where he knew Anna was in reclusion, and tapped on Abigail’s door before stepping inside. She sat on the bed, holding a doll, but was unwilling to look at him.
“Miss Abigail,” he said softly. He walked across the room and sat next to her. “It ain’t that I want to take Anna away from you. We’re married now, and it’s high time we started out on our own.”
She stared at the floor, stroking her doll’s hair.
He sighed. “Try to understand. My kinfolk ain’t seen me in years, and they’ve never met Anna. If you were them, wouldn’t you want to see your brother and his new wife?”
She nodded.
“And I want very much to see them.” He took her hand. “It won’t be for long, Miss Abigail. The time will go right quick, you’ll see. Maybe you can come down to Alabama for a spell later on.”
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “Really?”
He grinned at her. “I don’t see why not.”
A smile spread across her young face. She threw her arms around his neck. “That would be so exciting.”
With a chuckle, he handed the guitar to her. “Now let’s have a go at this ole thing,” he said.
Doctor Spencer came by the following week to remove David’s stitches. He instructed his patient to take it easy for a couple of weeks until David was fully healed. Before departing, the doctor wished the newlyweds good luck in their travels.
A few days later, Anna asked David to drive her to the chapel where they were married. Finding Pastor Tully, they requested a new marriage license, complete with the correct information on it this time.
The pastor watched David sign his place of birth. “I thought I detected a Southern dialect when you were stating your vows,” he remarked.
“Sorry we had to deceive you, Pastor Tully,” David said.
“Oh, that’s fine,” the pastor replied cordially. “It’s perfectly understandable. Not that I would have turned you in, anyway, young man.” He chuckled.
David looked at Anna and winked at her.
Once they’d left the church, she said, “I knew you had been too nervous to disguise your drawl on our wedding day. I’m thankful Pastor Tully is a man of the cloth and sworn to confidentiality, even during times of war.”
“Reckon he didn’t ask ‘cause he didn’t want to know,” David said with a grin.
“You’re probably right.”
After another week dragged by, David wondered if he would ever return home again. But when he saw Anna packing a trunk one day, he knew it was truly about to happen.
He smiled and said, “You know, the train we’re takin’ might go right over that river I told you about. The North Anna.” He walked across the room. “Darlin’,” he said, taking her hands in his, “let’s you and me drive to Dover. We’ll have our likenesses done. One of me, for your locket, and two of the both of us, so we can give one to your kinfolk and take one home to mine. What do you say?”
“Why, I would love to go with you, Mr. Summers,” she replied.
They went outside where Alphie stood hitched to the buggy.
“Oh!” she exclaimed when she saw it and giggled. “What if I would have said no?”
David shrugged with a grin before helping her in.
They rode for several miles until they reached town. Finding the photography studio where their wedding portrait had been taken, they went inside. The tiny bell above the door announced their arrival.
Recognizing them at once, the photographer exclaimed, “By Jove, if it isn’t the newlyweds!” He walked around the counter toward them. “I say, how is matrimony treating you two young lovebirds?”
“Mighty fine so far,” David replied.
He looked at Anna, and she at him. They both smiled.
“Now then, what can I do for you?” the elderly gentleman asked.
“We’d like to have some photographs taken.” Anna handed him the locket. “We want one of my husband to go in this, and then we’d like two portraits of the two of us together.” She reached into her reticule and retrieved the broken portrait. “And I’d like a new glass for this frame too, sir, if you please.”
“Well, I’m certain I can find something that will suit your fancy,” the photographer said. “Lad, let’s start with you.”
He motioned for David to stand in front of the backdrop and instructed him to hold perfectly still for several moments until the flash popped. He then positioned Anna beside him. After two more tintypes were taken, the old gentleman led them over to the counter and helped Anna pick out a new frame. When their photographs were finished, they inserted the little gem of David into the locket and paid.
“Thank you very much, sir,” David said with a smile.
“It’s been my pleasure, my boy. I hope the two of you have a splendid day. Cheerio.”
The newlyweds walked outside. Strolling hand-in-hand down the sidewalk, they gazed into storefronts until they arrived in front of the mercantile. Anna pointed at a beautiful cerulean gown displayed in the front window.
“Oh, David,” she sighed. “Do you think my dresses are nice enough? I really do want to make a good first impression on your family.”
He looked down at her dusty laced boots, letting his eyes float up the length of her brown gingham dress and along her slender neckline to her beautiful face, which was filled with concern. Her brilliant blue-green eyes captured his.
He bashfully smiled. “Darlin’,” he said softly, overcome by the sight he’d just taken in. “You look beautiful, jist the way you are.”
He kissed her and led her into the colossal building. Asking the cashier for two bowls of vanilla ice cream, David paid the clerk and handed one to Anna.
“Remember the first time I tried this?” he asked, taking a bite.
She smiled, nodding at him. “I’m glad to see you’re eating it more slowly this time.”
“I learned my lesson the hard way,” he responded with a crooked grin.
After they’d finished their treats, they walked through the store. Anna took his hand and pulled him toward the leather goods.
“I want you to look presentable for your mother,” she said, “so I’m buying you new boots and a hat.”
“Oh, Anna, I don’t want—”
“I’ve seen the soles of your boots. The holes go all the way through.” She handed him a freshly-tanned pair. “Try these on.”
He reluctantly took them, pried off the old ones, and pulled the new pair on.
Anna picked up one of his old boots. Shaking her head, she poked her finger through the hole in the sole of it. “Walk up and down the aisles to see if they fit properly,” she suggested.
David did as she requested. “These’ll do jist fine,” he said contentedly.
She led him over to where several hats were displayed.
Handing her his old, worn out slouch hat, he found a new one on a shelf that looked identical, except for the lack of dirt, and placed it on his head. “How do I look?” he asked, grinning.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
They returned to the counter where they had purchased their ice cream. David saw a twenty-five cent novel titled Kit Carson: The Prince of the Gold Hunters. He had always admired Kit Carson, who was nothing like Kit Lawrence. He dreamed of someday scalping and killing Indians, just like that great man out West, whose legend was far bigger than his stature. Anna didn’t hesitate to purchase it for him.
As they walked outside to the buggy, she asked, “Darling, since we’re here, would it be all right if we pay the Burrows a visit?”
He frowned, not wishing for their happy day to be disrupted by sorrow, but resigned to her request. “Of course,” he said.
They climbed in and rode down a hill to the Burrows’ home. David helped Anna out. Walking up to the white, two-story frame house, he noticed the black cloth hanging inside the windows. They stepped onto the tiny porch, and Anna tapped on the front door.
The door creaked open. Grace peered out. Her face brightened immediately. “Oh, my darlings. Please do come in,” she invited.
She took Anna’s hand, prompting her to enter the house. David followed.
“We came to town to have our likenesses made,” Anna explained. She presented the photographs to Grace.
My dear, these are simply lovely.” She smiled while gazing down at the tintypes. Handing them back, she asked, “Would you two like some tea?”
“We don’t want to trouble you, Miss Grace,” David replied.
“It’s no trouble,” she said with a chuckle.
David smiled at her, amazed she could find humor in his words, this being her time of sorrow. He wished he could think of further witticism, but the ability escaped him.
Grace motioned for them to take a seat before leaving the darkened room. It grew deafeningly quiet. Only the slow tock of the Cherrywood grandfather clock in the corner broke the stillness. He glanced at Anna, who folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him. Feeling a bit out of place, he looked around at his surroundings. Claudia’s shrine above the mantle was still there, but now a tintype of the little girl lying in her coffin accompanied the collection. He winced at the sight of it. Noticing a box piano in the corner, he knew it was the same one Claudia had practiced on. Now the instrument stood as silent testimony to the little girl’s absence. The awkward calm was at last broken when Grace returned with a tray. She set it on the bureau and distributed filled cups.
“Theodore isn’t here at present,” she informed them. “He’s gone into Harrisburg to find investors.”
“Oh, for your business,” David remarked.
“Yes, that’s right.” She sat next to Anna on the loveseat and patted her knee. “I’m so very happy to see you,” she said with a wide smile.
David took a sip from his cup. “Miss Grace, we’re leavin’ for Alabama next week,” he blurted.
Anna glared at him.
“You are? Well, I hope you have safe travels. How’s your forehead, by the way?”
“Oh, it’s gettin’ better.” He reached up to touch his bandage.
“Please tell us how you’re getting on,” Anna coaxed.
Grace smiled peacefully. “I’m really fine, dear. You needn’t worry. I’ve had quite a while to prepare myself since Claudia’s episodes escalated over time, the poor little thing. It’s very difficult to lose her, but now she won’t have to suffer anymore.” She wiped a trickling tear from her cheek.
Reaching over to take her hand, Anna said, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Grace. It’s just that, you’re like family, and I don’t want you to feel alone. The invitation is always open for you to come to our home, anytime you wish.”
Grace squeezed Anna’s hand. “Thank you, my dear. Oh, that reminds me.” She stood, and said, “Pardon me for a moment,” before going upstairs.
Anna glanced at David, who gave her a quizzical expression in return. Soon, Grace returned, carrying Buster in her arms.
“I was wondering if you could take Buster home with you. He’s very lonely, now that Claudia is gone.”
David glared at her, astonished. “Miss Grace, you want us to take that dog down South with us?”
She laughed. He was exhilarated to hear it, even if it was at his own expense.
“Oh, David, the look on your face.” She chuckled.
Anna looked at him and giggled as well.
“No, dear, that is, unless you want to, but it doesn’t appear that you do.” She laughed again. “What I meant was, could you please take Buster out to the farm? Claudia would have wanted Abigail to have him, and he’d be much happier there. I’ll be away most of the time since Ted and I are planning on expanding our business, and I would hate to leave the poor little fellow alone in the house all day.”
“Of course, we’ll take him, Grace,” Anna said.
Grace gently passed the multi-colored terrier over to Anna, who embraced him in her arms.
“You’re expandin’?” David asked.
“Yes. That’s one of the reasons why Ted has gone to Harrisburg today. We’re considering opening a shop there. If all goes well, perhaps we’ll open one in York.”
“A regular monopoly,” said David.
“Yes, that’s right. J.P. Morgan, move over!” Grace said exuberantly.
Anna smiled. “We hope it all works out the way you want it to.” She glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “Heavens, I didn’t realize it was getting so late.”
He looked over to see it was five-thirty. The clock bonged a low resonating note as he did so. “Reckon that’s our signal to take our leave,” he said. Rising to his feet, he set his empty cup on the bureau and followed Anna toward the door.
Grace patted him on the shoulder. “Now, David, when you and Anna return, I want you to know we can provide you with a job. I understand you’re not fond of farming, so perhaps you’ll take to cabinet making. I know you’re very talented at wood-working, and it’s never a bad idea to learn a trade.”
He placed his new hat on his head and stepped outside. Turning to face her, he responded, “Yes’m. Thank you kindly, Miss Grace. I’ll keep that in mind.”
She reached her arms around him and hugged him so tightly he gasped for air. Upon releasing him, Anna handed Buster to him, and the two women embraced. The sight was so sentimentally sweet he could feel his throat tighten.
“Do be careful, my darlings,” Grace said, her tears spilling over. “I would hate for anything bad to happen to you. The South is still in such turmoil, from what I understand.”
“There ain’t no need to fret, Miss Grace. We’ll surely be jist fine.” He grinned at her and handed Buster back to Anna.
The newlyweds boarded their buggy. Grace stood in the doorway, waving. They enthusiastically waved in return and drove down the thoroughfare. Buster began to yelp as they rode out of town. Letting out a sigh, David looked down at him and shook his head.
“Aren’t you relieved you didn’t obligate to taking this sweet little thing down South with us?” Anna asked with a chuckle.
“Sweet? That dog has been after my boots ever since Claudia first brought him to the farm. And yes, Anna, I am relieved. It’ll be hard enough keepin’ the li’l scoundrel away from my new boots.”
She giggled and stroked the small dog to calm him. Buster squirmed until his cold, wet nose touched David’s hand. The little dog licked it a few times.
“See, he really does like you,” she said.
David smirked. He had to admit to himself he thought the little canine was cute, but he would never confess it to Anna. “Abigail will be right happy to git him, I’m sure of that,” he said.
She smiled at him. As they rode through the hazy countryside, Buster barked, David complained, and Anna laughed at his reaction.
The final hot days of July melded into the first few muggy days of August. On the morning of Friday, August 4, Bill went to York to purchase farm supplies. David saw him arrive later that afternoon, so he went into the barn to help him unload the wagon.
While the two men stacked bags of oats against the barn wall, David asked, “Did you stop by the train station?”
“Sure did. The train leaves for Richmond Monday morning at eight o’clock. You’ll be going to Baltimore first.”
David nodded. “We’ll have to git up early if we’re to make it on time.”
“Don’t fret, son,” Bill assured, “We’ll make it.” He set a bag on the pile. Pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, he said, “I know you’re anxious to get back home, but I’m concerned about Anna. She’s expressed her apprehension to Sarah on several occasions, and I’m counting on you to take good care of her.”
“You know I will, sir,” he replied.
Bill gave him a rueful smile. “I saw Patrick when I was riding in. He said he’d stop by sometime before you leave.”
Upon completing their task, David unhitched Alphie. He led him to the pasture door and slapped him on the rump. The behemoth equine trotted into the lush grass and touched muzzles with Renegade. Both horses walked off to graze.
“Anna and I had a talk the other day,” Bill stated.
“Oh? About what?” He turned to face Anna’s uncle, who leaned against a wagon wheel.
“She asked if I’d want to buy the farm from her.”
Stunned, David tried not to look surprised. “What did you say?”
“I told her I’d have to talk to Sarah first, and to you. I’m only mentioning this because I want you to have a chance to think on it before she brings it up with you.”
“Why would she want to sell it?”
“I’ll let her explain that.”
“But you’re kin. Why would she want you to pay for it?”
Bill grinned. “Let’s go on in. I’m starved.”
Once they had gathered in the dining room, Bill informed the family of the newlywed’s departure time. Maggie and Abigail looked sadly across the table at one another. All through supper, they barely said a word. David’s guilt consumed him, but still, he managed to eat.
That evening, he found Anna upstairs, packing the trunk again.
“How often have you packed and unpacked that thing so far?” he asked teasingly.
“I believe this makes seven times,” she retorted.
She playfully sneered, which made him laugh.
“You only have four dresses, darlin’. Jist bring them all.”
She sighed. “But they’re all so plain. If only I had a proper receiving dress.…”
He looked down at the contents within the trunk. “You’re takin’ photographs of your sisters,” he observed aloud.
“I thought your sisters might like to see what mine look like.”
He watched her carefully place her fineries into the trunk. “Anna, is there somethin’ you want to talk to me about?” he prodded.
“No, not that I can think of at present.” She pulled everything out and refolded the dresses.
“Does it have somethin’ to do with the farm?”
She gasped and glared at him. “Uncle Bill told you, didn’t he?”
David sank down onto the bed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s goin’ on in that purty li’l head of yours.” He grinned.
She sat down beside him. “David,” she said slowly, “I don’t know for certain we’re coming back, and you want to go to school. I thought that, if I sold the farm to Uncle Bill, my sisters could remain here, and it would stay in the family. And it could help pay for your tuition.”
“Oh,” he said, his expression darkening. “Why didn’t you discuss it with me first?”
“Because I wanted to find out if Uncle Bill was interested and if he had the money.”
“I thought they had a farm upstate?”
“His brother is running that at present, and Uncle Bill has agreed to stay here for the time being.”
David stood. Pacing the length of the room several times, he grumbled, “I don’t know, Anna.” He abruptly stopped. Looking up from the rug, he turned his gaze toward her. “I love you for wantin’ to give up your bequest so’s I can go to college.”
“I wouldn’t be giving anything up, sweetie. It’s more of an investment. If you had a college degree, why, you could go anywhere and do whatever your heart desires, even though you don’t know what that is yet.”
He grunted. “You mean we could go anywhere. And we will be comin’ back here again.”
“Yes, sweetheart.” She arose, reached out, and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “But who knows when that might be. You told me before you wanted to go to Auburn. Perhaps we’ll stay in Alabama until you complete your schooling.”
His eyes widened. “You’d want to stay down there for that long?”
She chuckled. “We’ll see.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him. “I want you to think about it,” she requested. “We don’t have to decide tonight.”
He smiled. “All right, honey. I’ll consider it.”
The following morning started out calm and muggy. Anna convinced her sisters and aunt to accompany her to Dover. When they returned that afternoon, she happily carried a large box into the house and presented the contents to David.
“It’s the dress from the mercantile,” he said with surprise, recognizing the cerulean gown.
“It was still there in the window, and I just had to have it. I hope you don’t mind.” Holding it up to herself, she twirled around.
“How did you pay for it?” he inquired.
“Aunt Sarah bought it for me. It’s a going-away present.” She giggled, placing the dress back into the box. “Now I’ll be presentable!”
He snorted. “You needn’t fret about that, Anna,” he said, trying to encourage her.
But in actuality, he was worried. She was far too uneasy about meeting his family, and he only wished he could cast off her doubts. Her anxiety was making her ill, he knew, for he had heard her vomit again that morning. It seemed the closer their departure date came, the more sick she got. She simply brushed his concerns aside by saying she was fine. He assumed it was because she was too embarrassed and hoped her stomach sickness would subside once she met his mother and sisters.
Early Sunday morning, Anna’s family attended church. They observed the Montgomerys take their pew in the back. Following the service, Pastor Tully wished the newlyweds a safe journey. Once outside, David looked around. He saw the Montgomerys climb into their carriage. Mrs. Montgomery waved, and Sarah affably returned the gesture. Stephen approached, attired in his Sunday finest. David glanced down at his own clothes—his deceased father-in-law’s old suit. The sight of Stephen angered and annoyed him, and he wished he could punch him in the nose, just to wipe the repugnant, artificial smile off his face.
“I’ve been informed that you two are leaving tomorrow morning,” he said with a smirk.
“Where’d you hear that?” David gruffly inquired. He assisted Maggie into the landau.
“From Abigail.” Stephen pointed at her with his bandaged hand.
David glanced at his younger sister-in-law, who was already seated in the landau.
She glared back at him. He could tell by her expression that she was afraid she might have done something wrong.
Anna exited the church and stood beside her husband.
“Anna—”
“I already know what you’re going to say, Stephen,” she interrupted. “I hate you for what you did, but I love you, just the same. So tell me, what should I do?”
“Forgive and forget,” he replied, but it sounded more like an offer. He reached out to take hold of her hands and noticed the bejeweled wedding band on her finger.
David rolled his eyes.
Seeing her brother-in-law’s reaction, Maggie snickered before quickly covering her mouth with her hand.
“I have no choice really,” Anna responded. “It would be un-Christian of me not to forgive, but I will never, ever forget.”
“That’s all I can duly ask for.” He quickly kissed her cheek before she had a chance to object.
David glared at him, fuming.
Taking notice, Stephen said, “Buck up, David, old boy.” He punched him hard on the shoulder.
David looked down at his aching arm and scowled at him.
“Please take good care of my Anna for me. I wish you both the best of luck, down in–”
“Alabama,” David growled.
“Yes, yes, Alabama.” He thrust his left hand out. David threw a glance at it. “Come now, dear boy. Let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we?”
David could feel Anna’s gaze on him, so he reluctantly took Stephen’s hand. They shook. Surprisingly, Stephen embraced him. “Are you armed?” he mumbled into his right ear.
“What?” David asked.
He started to pull away, but Stephen tightened his hold.
“I hope an accident doesn’t befall you,” he muttered, “and leaves poor Anna a widow.”
Releasing him, he stepped back. David gawked at him, shocked by his intimidation.
“She really is a wonderful girl, you know. Watch over her for me.” He smiled too whitely again. After flashing a longing look at Anna, he walked off to rejoin his family.
Struggling to contain his fury, David clenched his teeth. He helped Anna into the landau and watched the Montgomerys drive away. Mary stared at him as they passed.
Once they returned home, the three sisters went down to the pond for a swim. Sarah asked what foodstuffs David wanted to take to his family and graciously gave him a can of powdered milk, a small box of white sugar, a tin of coffee, and a bag of flour.
“Are you taking the buggy?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. Once we git to Huntsville, I should be able to buy a wagon or somethin’.”
“I hope so. It might be a long walk if you have to carry that trunk while Anna rides on Renegade.”
He snorted. Her words reminded him, so he said, “I’ll have to find a workhorse right away. The Yankees took our Joe Boy.”
“Perhaps you can track him down. I’m sure the army will be happy to return him to you, now that they no longer have any use for him.”
David glared at her, restraining a chuckle. He realized she was sincere and looked away. If only it were that simple, he thought. The Yankees took everything they could get their loathsome hands on.
He had yet to find out what terrible destruction they had left behind. His anger seethed at the thought. If only the Confederates, the gentlemen of the South, had won the war. But that was never to be. The cause was lost; gone forever. The only recourse was to pick up the pieces, reestablish, and rebuild what had been destroyed. All the sacrificed lives and mournful sorrow could never be restored. The antagonism that had been fueled might never be extinguished. David bit his lower lip. He forced a smile, knowing Sarah’s intentions were genuine.
“I’ll see what I can find out once we git there,” he replied.
That evening, the family relaxed in the parlor. Abigail asked David to play a song on his guitar, but he declined. Instead, he offered the instrument to her and made her promise to take good care of it. She was to learn plenty of songs, so when he and Anna returned, she could entertain them for hours on end. Abigail agreed. She strummed haphazardly for a while until her excessive yawning distracted her. Excusing herself, she wearily stood, set the guitar in a corner of the room, and followed Maggie upstairs. Bill and Sarah retired shortly thereafter.
“I wish Patrick would have come by,” Anna remarked sadly.
“Oh, he probably jist forgot.”
She frowned at him.
“I mean, he was most likely too busy. We’ll send him a letter when we git home.”
She nodded and gazed remorsefully out the window.
“Reckon it’s jist us then,” he observed. He stood and reached out to her.
She took his hand. “Yes. It’s just us.” She smiled, arose, and allowed him to lead her upstairs.
Before dawn, David hitched Alphie, pulled the top of the landau down, saddled Renegade, and tied him to the back. Haphazardly, he removed his head bandage, deciding it was no longer necessary, and threw it in the trash. Grabbing a peach from a bowlful on the kitchen counter, he hurriedly devoured it as he went upstairs and tossed the pit out of an open bedroom window. He had already packed a few sets of clothing, his CSA buckle, Jake’s pocket watch, and the one-hundred-dollar Confederate note. In his trouser pockets, he stuffed the watch Anna had given him, the money he had saved for train tickets, his Testament, and his pocket knife. Retrieving his pistol from the back of the armoire, he buckled the holster around his hips.
Anna filled her drawstring purse with their personal items and went downstairs to eat a quick breakfast with her aunt and sisters while Bill assisted David in lugging the trunk downstairs. They carried it outside and positioned it in the back of the landau. Stopping to catch their breath, they saw a rider approach up the lane. The sky had just begun to brighten from black to lavender.
Patrick dismounted. “I couldn’t let ye leave without sayin’ goodbye first. I’m here to send ye off, and the Meyers wish for your safe passage as well,” he declared.
“Tell them I appreciate all they’ve done,” said David.
The ladies emerged from the dark house. Bill climbed up onto the driver’s seat as David helped Maggie, Sarah, and Abigail into the landau.
With a sigh, he said, “Well, I reckon this is it.”
He thrust his hand toward his friend. Patrick firmly grasped it. They hugged, patting each other briskly on the back before breaking their embrace.
“Sure’n it won’t be long till I see ye again,” he said with a grin.
Turning to Anna, he held his arms open to her. She fell into them, and they hugged affectionately. David smiled at the sight of them. Anna kissed Patrick on the cheek before they released each other.
“Now love, you’re responsible for this lad, so take good care of him,” he joked.
“Of course.” Laughing through her tears, she climbed in.
Patrick pulled a bottle of whiskey from his breast pocket and handed it to David. “‘Tis for your trip,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks, Patrick.” David smiled.
He glanced at Anna, who looked at him skeptically. Stuffing the bottle into his jacket pocket, he climbed in beside her and pulled the door shut.
“Write when ye get there,” Patrick called out as they started down the lane.
David hung over the side and looked back at him. “I will! Don’t forget what I told you about Miss Briana.”
“I won’t.”
Patrick sprang up onto Erin’s back and followed them down the road until he reached the Meyers’ turnoff. Waving his hat in the air, he galloped off.
David chuckled. He sat back in his seat. Taking Anna’s hand, he gently lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it. They smiled at each other. He glanced at the other occupants. Sarah smiled slightly at him. Maggie and Abigail, appearing as if they might cry, gazed out at the passing countryside.
Within an hour, they reached the York train station. The moment David dreaded, yet had looked forward to for so long, finally arrived. Bill directed Alphie near the platform, pulled him to a halt, and stepped down from the driver’s seat. David helped Bill remove the trunk from the back of the carriage. The two men lugged it over to the baggage car and carried it inside. Returning to the landau, Bill parked under a grove of trees alongside several other vehicles, tied Alphie, and assisted the ladies. Sarah handed the basket she had brought along to Anna, and Bill escorted them to the depot.
David said, “I’ll go git Renie situated in a cattle car.” He untied the stallion and led him off. After a few minutes, he returned to the platform, where Anna’s family was waiting.
“Y’all will never guess what happened,” he said.
“What?” Abigail asked.
A wide grin spread across his face. “There’s a feller takin’ several horses and a few head of cattle down to Richmond, and he said he’d be interested in sellin’.”
“Do we have enough money?” Anna asked.
“You do now,” Bill said. He winked at Sarah, who smiled at him. Withdrawing a wad of currency from his trousers pocket, he said, “We’ve discussed this, and we want you to have it so that when you get to Alabama, you’ll be able to afford a horse and carriage.” He handed David one hundred dollars.
“We won’t take no for an answer,” Sarah insisted. “Consider it a belated wedding gift.” David stared at her, dumbfounded.
“But you already gave us a hun—”
“Never mind about that,” she interrupted.
“Oh, Aunt Sarah.” Anna hugged her. “Uncle Bill.” She embraced him. “Thank you both very much.”
“All aboard!” a conductor called out from the edge of the platform.
Anna gasped. “This is it!” she said, laughing and sobbing simultaneously. She held her arms open to her sisters. All three embraced, crying.
David’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t buy the tickets yet.”
He started toward the ticket window, but Bill stopped him.
“It’s already taken care of,” he said and held out two tickets.
David took them and shook his hand. “Thank you, sir, for everything,” he graciously said.
“You’re perfectly welcome,” Bill replied with a smile.
David turned toward Anna’s aunt. “Miss Sarah, that goes for you too.”
She hugged him. “We’ll be praying for your health and safety.” She turned away to hide her tears.
David knelt down in front of Abigail.
She pounced on him and nearly toppled him over backwards.
“Maybe you can come down soon, like we discussed,” he softly told her, holding her close. “But in the meantime, learn to play a heap of songs on that gee-tar, you hear?”
She sobbed and pulled away. David saw tears flowing down her little cheeks.
“I will, David,” she tearfully said. “Please come back home soon.”
He smiled at her, trying to hide the fact that her tears broke his heart. Standing erect, he turned to face Maggie. They awkwardly gazed at each other for a moment.
“Miss Maggie, if it weren’t for you, well…I jist want to thank you.”
Surprisingly, she threw herself at him. He hesitated, but gently wrapped his arms around her.
Gasping, she whispered, “Please do be careful, David. I couldn’t stand it if something were to happen to either of you. Anna isn’t the only one who loves you.”
She kissed his cheek and released him, leaving him bewildered by her words, but grateful, nevertheless.
Anna stepped up to board one of the passenger cars. She turned to look back at her family over her shoulder. “Goodbye,” she called out. “We love you all very much.”
“Farewell, Anna,” Abigail hollered in her high-pitched voice.
David mounted the steps.
“Let us know when you arrive,” Sarah requested. “We’ll be expecting a telegram.”
“I will, Miss Sarah.” He grinned, boarded the car, and followed his wife down the aisle.
They found two seats. He relinquished the one next to the window, regardless of the motion sickness he knew he would experience, so Anna could see her family one last time. She took her seat and placed the basket of victuals Sarah had prepared for them on the floor beside her feet.
The conductor yelled, “Last call!”
After a few minutes, the locomotive started belching out black smoke. The smell of steam filled the air as the gigantic iron horse gradually pulled away from the depot.
Anna and David gazed out the window and waved. Her family fervently waved in return. The train clanked and lurched from the platform. The newlyweds watched Anna’s family grow smaller and smaller until they vanished in the distance. Pulling a handkerchief from her reticule, Anna dabbed at her eyes.
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s all right, honey. Everything will be jist fine,” he reassured her in a soft, low voice.
She nodded with a sniffle.
David drew a heavy sigh. Glancing around at the other passengers, he noticed the conductor make his way down the aisle to collect tickets. Some of the ladies fanned themselves. Anna produced her fan as well. Even though some of the windows were open, the early morning August heat already felt uncomfortable. A middle-aged couple, whom David assumed must be approximately the same age as Bill and Sarah, sat across from them. He gave them a shy smile. The gentleman cordially nodded in return, and the lady smiled back.
Watching the countryside roll by, he wondered if he had made the right decision. It was what he wanted, but what about Anna? She was his responsibility, and he loved her like no other. The only thing he wished for was her happiness, but uprooting her from her home and family saddened her, he knew. Guilt swept over him. He still blamed himself for Jake’s death. If something were to happen to Anna because of his actions like it had to Jake, he would never forgive himself. He grasped her hand for reassurance.
After they had ridden for nearly an hour and a half, the train stopped in Baltimore to accept more passengers. Twenty minutes later, it was on its way to Virginia. Although it wasn’t the first time Anna had ventured from home, she felt like it was more definite this time. She had no idea when, or if, she would ever see her home again. The thought made her heart ache.
“How long till we git to Richmond?” David asked the conductor.
“About five hours,” came the reply.
“Which train do we take from there to git to Alabama?”
“The Charlotte route. All of Sherman’s neckties have been repaired by now.” He sneered at David.
“Thank you,” he politely responded.
The conductor continued down the aisle.
“I don’t cotton to that feller,” David mumbled to Anna. “Seems like he ain’t too fond of Southerners.”
She snickered. “Don’t let him bother you, sweetheart.” Gazing into his hazel eyes, she smiled.
He stole a kiss from her.
She giggled.
“Let me guess,” the gentleman across from them said. “Newlyweds?”
David looked over at him. “Yessir,” he said with a grin.
He turned his gaze back to Anna, who flashed him a flirtatious glance before staring out the window at the rolling countryside.
After another hour of riding, David dozed off. Several shrill blasts from the locomotive’s whistle jolted him awake. The train began to slow down.
“What the devil?” the gentleman across from them said.
People inside the car took notice as well.
“What’s going on?” a woman asked.
“What’s happening?” inquired another passenger.
“Why are we slowing down?” an elderly man wondered out loud.
Anna gasped. “Oh, David. Look.”
She pointed out the window. He leaned over to see. Along the tracks, hundreds of freed slaves, dressed in tatters, many without shoes, shuffled alongside the passing train. Some led rickety, uncovered wagons. Their few belongings were stacked inside the beds, and their tin cookware swayed from hooks attached to the wagon boards. Other vagrants carried their belongings wrapped in cotton cloth or balanced in bundles on top of their heads. Several women walked along with infants strapped to their backs. The freed slaves had erected poorly-constructed campsites, which sprawled farther out into the fields. Some sang in unison. Anna recognized the melody to be “We Are Coming, Father Abraham.”
“Where do you think they’re going?” she asked.
The lady across from her said, “I doubt if they know.”
“Freed men on the road to nowhere,” her gentleman husband stated matter-of-factly. “They believe it’s the ‘age of jubilee’, but they’re in for a surprise.”
“Reckon they’re in search of their freedom, all right,” David said, “but I doubt they’ll find it in Philadelphia or Washin’ton City or anywhere else up North, for that matter.”
“That is so terribly sad,” said Anna.
David nodded in agreement. “People can’t accept the nig—I mean, the Negroes, for bein’ equal to us white folks, and it ain’t jist that way in the South.”
“We’ve all had to pay the price for our freedom,” the gentleman across from them added. “It’s their turn to pay for theirs.”
Anna let out a sigh. “I wonder how long it will be until they’re considered equal?”
Settling back in his seat, David slowly shook his head, his expression darkening. “Who knows,” he said. “Could be ten, fifty, maybe even a hundred years.” He shrugged. “Or longer.”
After a few miles, the train left the vagabonds behind and picked up speed. As it chugged toward Richmond, Anna noticed how fidgety her husband was becoming.
“Only three more stops till we’re back in my home state,” he said.
“I know, darling.”
It seemed so close, yet more distant than she ever could have imagined.
She took hold of his hand. He glanced over at her and grinned. She smiled in return.
Won’t he be astounded when I tell him the news, she thought.
Here she was, embarking on a new life, with what she knew was a new life growing inside of her. She recalled how he had requested they remarry once they arrived in Alabama so his family could witness it this time. The thought made her chuckle with delight.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing. I love you, that’s all.” She laid her head on his shoulder.
“I love you too, Anna.”
He pulled the Testament from his pocket, opened it, and gazed down at the Southern Cross Josie had sewn for him. Subconsciously, he started humming, “The Bonnie Blue Flag,” in rhythm with the rolling, clanking rumble of their passenger car.
Anna glanced over to see him tenderly rub his thumb over the bookmark. Her heart swelled. She understood that, amidst all the chaos, change, and uncertainty, one thing was destined to remain the same. He was a Rebel, and he always would be.