“You shouldn’t. We all have our gifts. Mine do not lie in understanding how women’s minds work … or in conversing with them.”
After settling Gretel, Ethan followed Devin into the simple house. The captain had told him a friend was letting him use the house for as long as he wished, and as one might have expected for a bachelor, the interior was plain. Nothing decorated the walls, and there were no knickknacks or frames on any surface. It reminded Ethan of their quarters at the beginning of the war. Back then, they’d had relatively comfortable spaces but nothing that wasn’t needed or necessary.
The kitchen was in the back. It was really nothing more than a small room where the captain obviously prepared his meals, but it had a black cook stove, a wooden table, two chairs, a line of beautifully made cabinets, and a large basin for washing.
The room’s simplicity suited the captain well. It had enough to satisfy his needs, but nothing extra.
Devin walked directly to a cast-iron pot on the cook stove and started stirring. “Ethan, slice those peppers and onions on the table.”
After washing his hands, Ethan rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Back before the war, he had only ever thought of a kitchen as someplace to sneak into when his servants weren’t available to bring him food.
All that had changed during the war. At first they’d had various enlisted men take cooking rotations. Toward the end, their ranks were so ragtag and he’d spent so many nights by himself, he learned to cook just about anything. He received a greater education in culinary arts when they were incarcerated on Johnson’s Island. They had nothing but time on their hands. And since food was so precious, each of them had taken to learning how to prepare it.
That said, he certainly hadn’t missed kitchen duty.
“This reminds me of cooking at the camp,” he said as he lopped off the top of a pepper. “I got pretty good at slicing carrots and potatoes.”
“We ended up doing all right once we started our garden, didn’t we?”
“All of us except for Baker. He couldn’t grow a batch of thistles.”
Devin laughed. “That he couldn’t. He was worthless at anything domestic. ’Course, that might have changed now that he’s found Laurel.”
“Did that surprise you?” Ethan asked as he turned the pepper on its side and began slicing. “That he found love while working in a chain gang?”
“You know what I mean. Thomas Baker is as rough a man as I’ve ever known. His wife is his complete opposite in every way.” Devin shrugged. “Perhaps on paper the alliance might not make much sense. But I’m not surprised he found a woman to love him. Underneath all Baker’s bravado and insecurity is a good man.”
“Which Laurel discovered, even though he was wearing a prisoner’s uniform when they first met.”
“You are right. She discovered Thomas’s best qualities in spite of a prison uniform.” Devin looked at him quizzically. “You sound surprised. Why is that? You knew Baker even before I did.”
“I’m not disparaging Thomas,” Ethan said quickly. “Of course I’m glad he’s found love and happiness.”
“Then what’s bothering you?”
“I’m just, I don’t know, thinking about how two such unlikely people became enamored with each other. It’s curious, don’t you think? I never understand how and when the Lord chooses to bring people together.”
“That’s why we have God. We trust in Him so we don’t have to try to understand such things ourselves.” Grabbing a handful of the peppers and onions Ethan had chopped so far, Devin tossed them into his pot. “Is that what this visit is really about? Have you found yourself a woman, Major?”
The question startled him. “What? No.” Then, as an image of dark, curly hair and the sound of a soft, sweet voice came to mind, he amended his words. “Well, maybe. But, um, not in that way.”
As he should have expected, Devin latched on to his last two words. “What other way is there?”
Suddenly tongue-tied, Ethan stared at him. How did one answer that? He had no earthly idea.
10
Though his mind was no doubt racing with a dozen questions, Devin allowed Ethan a few minutes to gather his thoughts. He continued working on his chili, his movements sure and easy. As if there was nothing unusual about either Ethan’s unannounced visit or what they were discussing.
Lulled by Devin’s matter-of-fact movements, Ethan finally relaxed. Then he told Devin about Lizbeth’s sudden entrance to his room at the Menger and how her cousin had fired her rather than take her concerns seriously.
Devin’s expression had turned dark at the mention of the colonel’s name. “Bushnell. That man was always a scoundrel.”
“I want to help Miss Barclay because of Bushnell’s involvement. But I must confess I have other reasons as well.”
Devin put down his spoon. “Which are?”
“I think … well, I know she’s from my past.”
Devin watched him carefully. “Which past? Your home or from the war?”
Ethan swallowed. “I met her—more or less—during the war. On a requisition raid.”
Devin stared at him. “That is surprising, but not unheard of, I reckon. After all, we all met our share of women. Some during dances, others when we were marching through wherever we went.”
Ethan knew what Devin meant. They’d marched or ridden their horses through several states. Arkansas. Tennessee. Kentucky. Texas. “Like I said, I met this woman on a requisitioning raid. At a place near here.”
“Ah. You haven’t said. Did she recognize you?”
“Apparently not. It would be different for her, though. She probably only remembers groups of men in gray and gold stealing her belongings.”
“Or men in blue. We weren’t the only ones searching for supplies, Major.”
“Probably so.”
“No, I know so.”
Realizing Devin Monroe had never talked about raiding homesteads, Ethan searched his face. “Did you ever do that?”
“Requisition supplies for our troops? You know I did.”
“Did you ever feel guilty about it?”
“Truth?”
“Of course.”
“Not at the time.” He shrugged. “Come to think of it, I still don’t feel guilty about those runs. We didn’t have a choice. Our men were dying. Starving and cold, wet and hungry. It was our duty to provide for them in any way we could. Our duty as officers.”
“I know.”
Grimacing, Devin continued. “Early on, we visited a horse farm in Kentucky, and I almost got poked with a pitchfork because I wanted a pair of champion breeders. That blasted man wanted all of us to bleed and die on the battlefields while he raised horses and waited for the war to be over. I’ve never forgotten that. What kind of man prefers for other men to defend his home?”
“I agree with you there. But this woman? Well, her circumstances were different.”
After inspecting his chili again, Devin said, “How so?”
“Back when I was still a captain, Baker, five other men, and I were covering a block of land, trying to get some wood to burn and food. The men were starving. And freezing.”
“I remember.”
“Anyway, we came upon this ranch house. It had obviously been a pretty house before the war. It was run-down, but we were sure it was going to give us at least some of what we needed. The woman I now know as Miss Barclay met us at the front.” Realizing his friend had turned and was listening intently, Ethan tried to form the right words without breaking down. “She was alone. And skittish.”
“And scared.”
Ethan sighed in relief. He was glad he didn’t have to explain in too much detail about her state of mind. “Yes. She was petrified of me and my men.” Raising his hand to his temple, he continued. “She was also scarred from her ear to her hairline. Men had come to her place before, you see.”
“Ah.” Devin turned to his stew pot. After a couple of additional stirs with a wooden spoon, he spoke again. “T
he story is sad but not surprising, Ethan. Those were dark times for everyone. Desperate. What did your men take?”
Ethan knew what Devin was asking. “We took everything we could, but it wasn’t much. When we left her homestead, I knew she didn’t have anything left.” Shame choked his words, but he continued anyway. “It’s my fault too. I ordered the men to scavenge.”
“You can’t judge the past by today’s standards. Our circumstances were different back then. We would spend days fighting and killing before spending weeks burying the dead and tending to the wounded.” Devin shuddered. “I thought I was never going to get the scent of blood out of my head.”
“I hear you.”
“Good. You must also remember that it wasn’t only our war. We were all under orders. Even esteemed captains.” Looking a bit amused, he added, “Even elusive majors.”
Ethan would have saluted the sarcastic quip if he weren’t so in need of guidance.
Impatiently, he said, “My point is that … this woman I’m concerned about? Well, I did help her with Bushnell.”
“Ethan, before you tell me what you did, are you sure she’s the same one? That raid took place a long time ago, right? It had to have been almost a year before we were imprisoned.”
“I’m as sure as if I’d visited her home last week. I knew I’d never forget her. Plus, that scar that has haunted my memories is on her temple.” Sighing, he said, “When I found her in my suite, she was in danger again. Running from Bushnell after he’d cornered her when she was cleaning his room.”
Devin cursed under his breath. “Our world keeps getting smaller and smaller.”
“You’re right. He is one man I would have been happy never to cross paths with again.”
“What did you do?”
“After I heard her cousin fire her—Lizbeth is her name—I made the woman give me his room number and I went there.”
Devin stared at him intently. “What did you do?”
“I threatened him.” And he might have bruised his face a bit.
“Ah. And later, how did Lizbeth react when you relayed how you remembered her?”
“When I saw her again, I didn’t mention it. Or tell her anything about my encounter with Bushnell. Only that she needs protection and assistance and I am willing to give her that.”
“You didn’t see the need to tell her you raided her home?”
Though he was mentally cringing at the dismay in his friend’s tone, Ethan attempted to excuse himself. “Lizbeth has no idea I was with that band of men. I don’t want to tell her.”
“Of course you don’t. You would become less of a hero, wouldn’t you?”
This time Ethan didn’t bother to hide his discomfort. “Your contempt might be no less than I deserve. But if you were in my position, you might find yourself doing the very same thing.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not.”
“I am not ready to tell her everything, but I still feel the need to do something. She can’t keep living on her own. She’s going to get hurt.” Again, he silently added.
“You’re right. She very well might. But her problems aren’t yours.”
Hardly hearing him, Ethan revealed what he’d been turning around in his head. “I think they could be. I might not want to admit being at her house, but I still feel guilty about it.”
“What does your guilt have to do with her?”
“Everything. If I make things right, I might be able to find absolution too.”
Devin sighed. “Ethan. That isn’t how it all works. God grants absolution. God will help you find solace.”
Ethan knew Devin had a deep faith. But his didn’t run that deep. “I can help her and help myself, too, if I take Bushnell on. She needs a protector. It might as well be me. Late last night I even contemplated marrying her.”
Devin started laughing. It abruptly stopped when he noticed that Ethan didn’t even crack a smile. “Wait a minute. Are you serious?”
“I am. It will solve a lot of her problems.” All of them, as far as he could tell.
“It will also create a whole slew of them for you,” Devin said with an uncharacteristic note of derision. After glancing at him again, he walked to a back cabinet, opened a door, and pulled out a crystal bottle of whiskey. After filling two shot glasses, he handed one to him. Before waiting, Devin tossed back a good portion of the contents.
Only then did he speak again. “Ethan Kelly, have you lost your mind?”
“Not yet.” He took a sip of the whiskey. Realized how fine it was, then took another sip before setting it down.
“That might be a matter of opinion.”
“Look, I know I’m not responsible for her problems, but I couldn’t do anything about what happened to her during the war. I can help her now.”
“You may think you are helping her. But if you encourage her to marry without love, where does that get her? Trapped in a loveless marriage, I tell you.”
“She’s alone. Bushnell could have raped her in that hotel room.”
“But he did not.”
Just as he was about to confess more of his worries, he noticed Devin looked extremely agitated. Something more was troubling him than just his idea about marriage. “What did I say?”
“Other than you are considering giving up your life for a maid in a hotel?”
“No, there’s something more afoot. Is it the mention of Bushnell?”
Devin hesitated. “Partly.”
“Why? What do you know about him that I don’t?”
“I recently met the woman who was his ladybird during the war.”
Surprised, Ethan picked up his whiskey and drained it. “I remember him speaking of her.” Closing his eyes, he recalled Bushnell bragging.
“So do I,” Devin said, looking pained. After taking another sip, he seemed to gain control of himself. “So you remember Bushnell speaking of her? Was it at Johnson’s Island?”
“He did then too, but I’m thinking of another time. It was when we were traveling south and spent the night somewhere in the middle of Tennessee.” Thinking back, Ethan remembered how appalled he’d been by Bushnell’s tales. Deciding to tread carefully, he added, “He said she was beautiful. Deceptively beautiful, whatever that means.”
“She is.” A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Auburn hair and blue eyes. She’s … well, she’s striking.”
“Ah. You know her well?”
“No. I only recently met her. She, um, she practically lives in isolation now. Her alliance with him ruined her reputation.”
“That ain’t surprising.”
“It’s not, but I’ve been thinking. She had good reason to do what she did,” Devin said with more force. “She was desperate. Hungry. Had a grandmother to care for.” His lips thinned as he stared off into the distance again. “Actually, I would go so far as to say her actions were justified.”
Since Ethan had come for advice, he decided to bring the conversation back around to him. “Lizbeth has suffered too. She’s all alone, except for a miserable excuse of a cousin.”
“You look as if something else is weighing on you. What is it? Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Devin stepped forward. “Did you hurt her in some way but don’t want to admit it?”
“Of course not.” He hadn’t, except when he’d taken all her provisions and left her starving and alone.
“Then her pain is not your problem.”
Everything Devin said made sense. But Ethan was starting to realize sometimes a man had to do what didn’t make sense.
“What should I do about Bushnell? I didn’t just threaten him. I knocked him to the floor. He’s checked out of the Menger, but I’m afraid he’s going to come back to retaliate—by hurting Lizbeth. My friend Mindy Harrison agreed to let Lizbeth have a room at her inn, but will she really be safe from him even there?”
“That would be like him.” Lips pursed, Devin stared at their pair of empty shot glasses. “I need to take care of some business, but then I’ll com
e find you at the Menger. We’ll hunt down Bushnell and confront him together. Maybe find out more about why he was even in San Antonio. He’s from Fredericksburg, right?”
“Yes, but there’s no need for you to do that. I didn’t come here to ask you for help. Just advice.”
“I need to be there, Ethan.”
“Do you think the two of us talking to him will make any difference?”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll come up with a plan to make sure he takes our warnings seriously. In the meantime, don’t do anything rash. Don’t offer that woman marriage yet.”
As they walked into Devin’s cozy living room, Ethan said, “I’m glad I came here.”
“Are you? I don’t think I helped you much.”
“You helped more than you know. You helped me remember I’m not alone.”
Leaning back on the couch, Devin nodded, his cool blue eyes looking almost empty. “You’ve done the same thing for me. You also made me realize I may have been a fool. Honestly, Ethan, I think you might have helped me more than I helped you.”
As that statement lingered in the air, Ethan leaned back in his chair and exhaled. He’d come hoping to solve his problems. But if he wasn’t mistaken, he’d just uncovered several more issues. Issues he was certain weren’t going to be solved with a threat or a thrown punch.
11
Johnson’s Island, Ohio
Confederate States of America Officers’ POW Camp
The hour was late. It was long after dark, long after the time most of the prisoners had returned to their barracks for the comfort of sleep.
Devin Monroe wasn’t one of them.
He was leaning against one of the barracks’ outside walls, unsuccessfully attempting to come to grips with what Colonel Daniel Bushnell was saying.
Correction. What Bushnell had been saying for the last ten minutes, ever since he, Bushnell, General McCoy, and Major Ethan Kelly had decided to have an impromptu meeting about yet another grave that needed to be dug. Well, their “meeting” was actually an argument between Bushnell and Kelly. Devin and the general had stuck around in case blood was shed.
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