Poor little ones, lost in the world. I looked at Rachel’s babies, so recently orphaned and abandoned. Well, at least they had me, and would for all time. But I needed some respite from the sadness. From the horrible stories that kept coming in the wake of the great battle at Gettysburg. Needed the company of another woman. I wrote to Mary.
Chapter 34
1863 – Late Summer
Mary came in August and stayed for a week—the first time we’d been alone together since her marriage nineteen years before. She came to comfort me and to visit her son, doing a man’s work at his Uncle Ben’s side. She came to talk and laugh and lighten my load. Of all of us, Mary reminded me most of our mother. Round faced and ample bosomed, cheerful blue eyes. Nathaniel, back from Erie, seemed to feel the same, seeking Mary’s company like a lost child.
“He has a ways to go,” Mary told me as we sat on the back porch one warm afternoon snapping beans.
“Yes. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever get over it completely.”
“It’ll take time, but it’ll happen.”
“He and James make a pair. James is starved for a man’s attention. I doubt Jacob ever paid him much mind,” I commented. “But Nate has taken him under his ‘broken’ wing, and they both seem to thrive on that.”
“This family is a little man-shy,” Mary went on. “We’ve got plenty of boys, but able-bodied men are lacking. Ben’ll wear himself out before those five sons of his grow man strong. You need to find yourself a husband, Ann.”
I demurred, then giggled. “Why, yes, Mary! Why haven’t I thought of that? I could just go out and say to the first eligible man I met, ‘Come with me. We need a man on the farm!’ Anyway, there aren’t any good men left, and if this war doesn’t end soon there won’t be any good boys, either.”
Mary smiled and reached for another handful of beans. “Well, Ben needs a partner. You should see what you can do before he wears himself out. I hate to tell him this, but Noah needs Adam at home. I’m to take him back with me.” She swatted at a fly, pestering her nose.
“Oh. I can’t blame Noah, but Ben’ll be lost without Adam. Everything’s hard with the war. I thought the rebels would be easier to beat.”
I looked down the road, empty in the afternoon sun, and thought of Pru’s boys, tagging along after the Rebel army, poor wretched waifs. If they had any innocence left, it was surely lost by now. Mary broke in on my thoughts.
“I’m glad Adam got a chance to see the real thing when you and he went looking for Nate. It certainly settled him down. Must have been awful, what you saw.”
I nodded. “I was worried that it’d be too much for him, but he kept his head and behaved like a man.” I shaded my eyes. A lone rider made his way slowly up the dusty road through dappled sunlight. Mary saw him, too, and we watched as he turned in at our gate. “Now, who do you suppose that is?”
He rounded the corner of the house and stopped, looking down from his horse. A well-built man of about my age.
“Can you tell me where Elias Finley lives?” he asked, leaning forward in his saddle. He looked travel-worn, a little downcast, somehow.
“Elias Finley is dead. Killed last year at the Second Battle of Bull Run.”
“Oh? And what of his family?”
“His widow and three children live about a mile farther along, on the right,” I directed, watching him curiously. I was sure I didn’t know him, and it was odd, a stranger coming along, looking for Elias.
“Widow?
“Yes.”
“I thought his wife died.”
“His first wife, yes. He married again.”
The man looked puzzled. “What about his daughter?”
“He has two daughters.” I peered at him, uncomfortable with so many questions. “You mean Lucy?”
“Yes. Lucy. What of her?” He took off his hat and beat it against his knee, sending up a cloud of dust.
“She’s there with his second wife.”
“Oh, I should take her home.”
“Home?”
“Her mother, Melissa, was my sister,” he explained. “I came here to see Elias about horses and to see my niece. I’m sorry he’s gone, but I should probably take her back with me to live with her grandparents. My mother would be vexed if she knew Lucy was an orphan living among strangers.”
“Not exactly strangers,” I corrected. “Elias’s sister lives next door, married to my brother. Lucy doesn’t remember any other mother than Deborah, her stepmother.”
The man looked concerned. “Well, yes. Maybe so. I should introduce myself. I’m Preston Neff, from Chambersburg.”
“Pleased to meet you.” I got up and walked to the edge of the porch. Up close I saw a distinct family resemblance to Melissa. I offered my hand. “I’m Ann Redfield. This is my sister, Mary Poole. Can I get you a glass of cold mint tea?”
Preston Neff climbed stiffly down from his horse, still slapping away the dust with his hat. I excused myself and went into the kitchen to get the tea. I returned with three glasses on a tray and set it down on a table beside Mary.
“Mr. Neff tells me he’s a widower,” Mary informed me with a look that told me how providential she found this news.
“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Neff.”
“Cholera,” he replied. “My wife and three children—last summer.”
I breathed a sigh. So that was his burden. “How very sad.”
He looked down. “Yes. Well, one has to go on.”
He drank his tea and made movements to go, as Nathaniel and James arrived from fishing at the creek. James was full of stories of fish caught, fish not caught, and whoppers seen lurking in the shadows. I watched Preston Neff listen to the boy’s chatter, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He seemed a good-humored sort. A man who is kind to children and animals is a man to be trusted.
“War?” Preston asked, noting Nate’s arm.
Nate nodded.
“War’s been hard on all of us, and we’re supposed to be pacifists!”
“I’ve had my fill,” Nate replied.
“Anyone else here to help with the work?”
Nate shook his head. “You’re lookin’ at all the manpower we got. Pa’s up in years. I wouldn’t say it in front of him, but he’s not much good on the farm anymore.”
“So you’re short of labor, huh?” Preston observed.
“Sure are,” Nate said with a glance toward Mary. “My brother’s pushed to his limit, and I’m not much help. Elias is gone, and my other brother moved west. You any good with horses?”
“Yes, indeed.” Preston turned to me. “You knew our father was a breeder, didn’t you? Isn’t that what brought Elias to us in the first place?”
Nate continued, “Ben sure could use some help. Maybe you should talk to him.”
So Preston Neff stayed on to help Ben the next day, proving his expertise with horses from the start. Quiet, thoughtful, hard working. Good Quaker stock.
That first evening, he sat at our table, helping James whittle a toy horse. “Would there be room for me to board here for a while?” he asked. “Ben’s house is full, and I wouldn’t be comfortable at Deborah Finley’s, even though she has room.”
I nodded, glad for the help, especially since Adam was leaving with Mary the next day. “Certainly. We can put up a cot in Nate’s room, if you don’t mind Amos’s snoring next door. It’s been compared to a locomotive.”
He smiled. ”I don’t mind. I’m a sound sleeper.”
I set another place at the table. The arrangement was in our favor, needing the help as we did, but I wondered what was in it for Preston. He worked hard from sunup to sundown, went to Meeting on Sunday, and kept to himself most of the time, except for forging a bond with Rachel’s children. Clearly, he was trying to leave his old life behind.
One evening a few days later, I laid a little fire in the parlor to take the chill off the room. Preston wandered in and helped me get it going. We sat in silence for a while. I embroidered by
lamplight and Preston contemplated the flames.
“I can’t believe it’s almost a year since Adam and I went looking for Nate,” I said, to make conversation.
Preston nodded, then asked, “Ann, what happened to your husband? Did the war take him, too?”
“I’ve never been married. The children are my sister Rachel’s. She died last December and her husband left them with us in the spring.”
“Oh, I’m sorry you lost a sister. But it seems you’ve gained a family.”
“They’ve been a Godsend. We all needed them.” I picked up my embroidery and worked on a pillowcase I was making to send west to Abby for Christmas.
“They remind me of my own,” he mused. Mine were a bit older—nine, seven, and five. Two girls and a boy. But children are children.”
“I hope the reminder isn’t too painful.”
“No. They’re good for me. While they remind me of what’s gone, they also remind me that life goes on.” He poked at the little fire with a stick of wood. It was one of those nights—too cool without a fire, too warm with one.
“It does, indeed.” I sneaked a glance at Preston and found him watching me. I looked away.
“What about your brother who went west? I always wanted to, but life got in the way.”
“They’re doing fine out in Indiana. Lost a child a year or more ago, but they’re expecting another one soon.” I held up my thread to the lamplight to decide on a color.
“Wasn’t he with the Underground Railroad? A conductor?”
I wondered who he’d been talking to. “How would you know that?”
“Ben told me. He says you were all involved, but mostly Jesse. Weren’t you in it, too?”
“Some. After Jesse left, I didn’t do much. Then the war came. At first the numbers increased, but after the proclamation, few came north. Things are coming apart in the South, I fear, but not soon enough for me.”
He nodded. “I’ve always been opposed to slavery but never acted on it. The opportunity never arose and I didn’t go looking for it.”
“Most didn’t. But you would have helped if asked. Jesse just couldn’t leave it alone. Most of the time he was easy going, but slavery brought up the bile in him.”
We sat for a while in silence, watching the fire wane. “Ann, how well did you know Elias Finley?”
His directness took me by surprise. “Quite well, I guess. Why?”
“My sister wasn’t happy with him. It makes me curious about the sort of man he was. Melissa was such a happy child. To see her so sad at the end made us wonder. I never really got to know him, but my parents didn’t think much of him either.”
“Then why did you come looking for him?”
“I wasn’t exactly looking for him. I was trying to get away. I headed west and found myself in Bedford County. Since I was here, I thought I’d stop and visit Elias, but I never intended to stay.”
“Elias wasn’t a bad sort. Just inept. Couldn’t see any needs beyond his own, I guess.” I followed the thread of Preston’s thoughts. “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
“No. Probably not. I’m just wandering. Trying to lose myself.”
“Lucy’s glad you came. Lucky, too. She might never have known her mother’s people.”
“I think I’ll take her to Chambersburg for Christmas.” He rose to open the door. The little fire had displaced the chill. “Deborah cares for her, but she can’t do for her like we can.”
It was true. When all was said and done, Elias hadn’t much to show for his years in the horse trading business. He was more interested in the appearance of wealth than in prudent management. Now Deborah and the children had a decent house but little to live on.
“Are you thinking about leaving Lucy with her grandparents?”
“We’ll let her decide. She’s old enough.”
I nodded. “I don’t know what Deborah will think. It’s a struggle for her to put bread on the table, but she’s practically raised Lucy. It’ll be hard to give her up, but if she wants to stay with her grandparents, I don’t think Deborah will stand in the way.”
“My parents will be glad to have her, and there’s an abundance of aunts, uncles, and cousins.”
“Will you stay down there or come back after Christmas?” I asked.
“I guess I’ll come back. Ben has a good operation going, even with the loss of some of his herd, and he really needs help. Besides, I don’t have any place else to go.”
“What about your farm and house?”
“My brother wants to buy my place. It adjoins our father’s land. I don’t want to live there anymore. Anyway, Ben seems a solid sort. I might buy in with him.”
I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit to some speculation about a future with Preston Neff. He was attractive—tall, sandy-haired, with deep-set eyes. Kind. Intelligent. But disappointment and long years of hard work with little reward made me shy. I pushed the idea away. “Will that be all right with your parents?”
“My brothers and sisters all live close. They can get along without me.”
“Well, there’s no question Ben needs you. I hope maybe someday you’ll come to think of Bedford County as home.”
“Maybe,” he said. “At least for the time being.”
Our conversation was interrupted by Amos, Nate, and James coming in from the barn. “Hey, don’t take the last piece of pie!” Nate hollered at James. “Save some for me!”
Preston nodded toward the kitchen. “I think Nate’s filling out just since I’ve been here.”
“He laughs more now, too. He and James! Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s seven and who’s twenty-nine! Maybe time will heal all the wounds.”
A wistful look passed over Preston’s face. “One can hope.”
James and Nate came in from the kitchen, still arguing over the pie. Amos took his chair by the window, nodding to Preston.
“James, go wash up and get ready for bed. Ellen and John have been in for almost an hour,” I told him. James made a face.
“I’ll wash his face for him!” Nate grabbed the boy’s head with his good arm. “Let’s go down to the creek and get some sand!”
James giggled, wriggling free and dancing toward the door. “Oh, you never touched me,” he sassed. “You better be nice, or I’ll tell Hattie Kensinger you’re sweet on her!”
Nate caught him and wrestled him to the floor, one handed. “You do and I’ll never take you fishing again.”
“Nate, if you marry Hattie, can I be your boy?” the child asked, helpless in Nate’s grasp.
“Sure, James. You’re already my boy.” Nate replied.
Amos, Preston and I exchanged glances across the room. Nathaniel, evidently, had plans.
Chapter 35
1864 –’65
True to his taciturn nature, Nate didn’t speak of his plans to marry Hattie Kensinger, partly, I surmised, because Hattie was not a Friend, and that meant disownment for marrying out of Meeting.
“They disowned me before when I went to war,” he told me when I asked how he felt about it.
“Yes, but you were reinstated.”
“Reinstated, but not rehabilitated. I’m not a pacifist. I still think sometimes a man has to fight.”
“That may be,” I replied. I was again glad to be a woman and not subject to the forces that drove men to violence. I had only once had the urge to fight, on the road to Oglestown that night—in self-defense.
“Anyway,” Nate continued, “the Friends are falling away. Every time you go to Meeting there are fewer. Some go west, some die, some marry out, some are disowned, and some just quit. The only reason I asked to be reinstated was for Pa’s sake. He was so put out with me for going to war.”
I sighed. This younger brother would always be a mystery. I barely knew Hattie Kensinger, but then I barely knew Nate. He would go his own way. I had no desire to criticize anyone’s religious leanings or lack of them. That part of life was wholly personal. If Nate wanted to leave the Society,
it wouldn’t come between us.
“Have you and Hattie decided where you’ll live?” I asked.
“I’m working out a deal with old Mr. Jakes to buy his dry goods store in Bedford. Hattie’s father owns a little house on Richard Street that he’ll sell me on time.”
”That sounds nice. Your plans are pretty firm, then.”
“There’s one thing I want to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?”
“James. I need someone with two arms to help me run the store. Hattie and I want to take him as our own.”
It didn’t surprise me. Their mutual need was clear to anyone with two eyes. James was rarely more than three feet from Nate’s good elbow, and he did, in fact, help Nate with many of life’s chores. He buttoned his shirts, cut his meat, saddled his horse, baited his fishhook. I knew some of those duties could be taken over by a wife, but James and Nate would still be lost without each other.
“I don’t like to split these children up, after losing their parents, but if you promise to keep close so they really are part of each others’ lives, I’ll allow it.”
Redfield Farm Page 27
