Lost in the Mist

by Wanda C. Keesey

  That matched the accounts in the papers. A strong rush of déjà vu swept over Connie.

  Papa's stable houses only Maggie, my mare, with the small pony cart I use to go to market, as well as Evan's gelding. Lacy and Sam have moved their family into the loft. Their house was burnt by ruffians. James and Sadie, Evan's slaves will sleep in an empty stall next to the carriage room.

  The team and wagon were given to the Home Guard for transport, and of course, Maxi took King Chess, his gelding, when he left to join the war. Papa will take the carriage and Princess, his mare. He will not leave alone. Many of the remaining men of fighting age joined the group. How many will be left to come home? All that are left of the Home Guard are old men and very young boys. What duties they perform remain to be seen. We are such fools to wage war.

  There are many mouths to feed and only Evan to provide. He is a strong man and I do not fear starvation, only his loss.

  Connie felt the walls of the room close in. War was being waged and Victoria was a soldier's wife. She was a good one, Connie thought, remembering Victoria in the park that had once been her home.

  30 August 1861

  We knit socks, write letters, and worry about our men. After the surrender of Fort Sumter, a battle was engaged near Manassas at Bull Run Creek. It is written in the newspaper that many were killed. We prayed that God's wisdom would fill the hearts of Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis and end this conflict. Can we truly be so different from those we fight? What of their wives and mothers?

  Many say the fighting will not touch us. We are a small town. But Evan tells a more frightening tale. We are a rail and river center. We have means of export and import, and as if planned by some evil God, we are located midway between Washington and Richmond, the two capitals of our warring country. Evan has talked of sending us to his father's plantation. I will not leave my husband. It is my duty to do what I can for his cause.

  10 September 1861

  Evan has been commissioned a Major in the regular army. He will serve in Fredericksburg as Provost Marshall and will take his troops from the Home Guard.

  23 September 1861

  Some days ago, Lacy and I went to trade grain for soap. We saw many of the local boys who have returned with missing arms and legs, and still others come in wagons of death. They can be seen everywhere.

  That day a wagon thundered into the market place. The poor team came to a hurried stop as the farmer driving yelled for help. He carried a load of wounded soldiers, some dressed in the butternut of the Confederacy and some wearing blue.

  The farmer had come upon the scene of the short and furious fight. He and his son brought the wounded to the town. Two in the wagon were beyond helping.

  I gave what aid I could to their torn bodies as they told me of the encounter. It seems the two small patrols came upon each other as they were each hunting for food.

  My own search for provisions having been interrupted by their arrival, I understood their need.

  I am not a stranger to the sight of blood, but this much? My resolve was pressed to continue the work.

  It was late evening when I returned home. Mama had sent for Evan, fearing for my safety. Evan was preparing to send his troops to find me in the countryside. He feared I might have been carried off, or dragged into a dark street where some unsavory character might have had his way with me, or maybe he would find me dead by the river where I had been taken after being robbed. I speak lightly of the scene that greeted me. In truth, I was deeply sorry for the turmoil my tardiness caused.

  Evan came to my room after supper. He did not tap at the door. I made no mention of this to him. I mention it now only to show his state of mind. My heart went out to him. It was the first I saw the graying hairs on his head, the deep furrows in his forehead, and the gray leanness of his face. He sat on the edge of my bed. I had taken up pen and book to make a note to you. I am afraid I had forgotten it later.

  He came to talk. To talk to me as a woman, not some young girl he had taken advantage of. His words were soft and filled with sadness.

  "The conflict goes well for the South, but it will go on for some time yet, I fear. I have thought to join the Regulars.” My heart sank at his words, “But my responsibilities are great here, and I can not abandon them."

  He took my hand in his. I had never before noticed how rough and gnarled his had become. “The fight may yet come to our own door. Our army is all around us, they gather to fight. I must see to your safety. My heart would rest easier if I knew you and your mother were safely away. After today I can not delay any longer."

  I tried to protest, but he would not hear it. “I have made arrangements with my father to take you both in when the time comes. Lacy and her family and James and Sadie are to join you; they can care for you both."

  I was angry that he should want to be rid of me, but touched for the reasons he gave. “I will stay. You can send Mama and the others to a safer place, but I will remain here. You are my husband and I will do my duty to you and perhaps to the Confederacy as well. I have seen a need today, and I mean to fill it."

  A fire lit his tired eyes. It was an anger I had not seen in him before. “I will not have my wife coming home as you did today. My God, woman, I thought you were one of the wounded. You were covered with soil and blood. Your skirts and petticoats torn."

  "We needed bandages,” I argued back.

  "But your own clothes. What were you thinking?” His hands shook.

  I stilled my own frustration. “Evan, those boys did not care to see my legs or any other part of my body. They were in pain and dying. They needed comfort. It will not be the last time such a thing happens. As you say, the Confederate army is all around. If the army is here, the wounded and sick will be in their ranks. Would you prefer I walk by and let them lay in pools of blood from their own bodies?” My words were stern, and not the words he would like to hear from an obedient wife.

  He stood and walked to the windows, his head down, he rubbed the beard he had recently grown against my wishes. Evan stood a long time watching the empty street.

  Finally he spoke. “It is raining. I would rather it were snow. It is easier to walk on frozen ground than in mud."

  I waited. I will stay, I told myself. I have found a way I can be of service. There was someone in a distant camp, who will take care of Maxi if the need be. I will care for their kin in turn.

  The sound of his deep sigh brought my attention back to Evan. His back was still turned making his words unclear. I left the warmth of my quilt and went to his side. Had his body shrunk, surly not, but he seemed smaller, beaten perhaps.

  "I can not hear what you are saying.” I felt the chill of outdoors coming through the closed windows. “Come closer to the fire, where it is warm.” He stood strong, not seeming to hear my plea. “I will do what you say to preserve my safety. You can send James with me. And I promise to take bandages so it will not be necessary to tear off my clothing.” I smiled at my own teasing remark.

  His mouth curved into a smile for an instant, but straightened. He could not allow himself the relief of humor in this time of sorrow and worry. “I will consider what you suggest.” Turning on his heels, he left me to my thoughts. He came to me that night, staying till the dawn. It was the first we had been together as man and wife. He can be a gentle lover.

  It was the next morning. Evan was holding council in the parlor when I entered. A young man in uniform stood in front of him, his hat in hand. When he turned, I saw him to be Maxi's friend Carpy, the sweetheart of Annabelle's youth and the courier of notes during my illness. Fearing to intrude on the business of war, I started to back out of the room.

  Evan called to me. “Victoria, please come in."

  I think I blushed, he had surprised me. “I have made my decision. You are right, we must all do what we can to further the Cause.” My heart leaped with joy, and I admit not just a little fear. “But you must abide by my rules. Is that agreed?"

  I was suspicious and not ready to accept
these rules without first knowing what they were about. I told him as much.

  He considered whether I was being defiant in front of one of his men. His eyes narrowed, his mouth worried his mustache, in the end he decided I had the right to know the limits he would impose before agreeing.

  "You will not leave the house before daybreak and you will return before nightfall."

  I nodded in agreement. He went on.

  "You will not leave the house alone. I have assigned Corporal Rollin Carpstairs,” he nodded to Carpy, “to accompany you. He will remain with you until you return safely."

  "What if Carpy ... the Corporal should become ill, or has other duty? Am I to have another companion?"

  "We will see to that if the time ever comes to consider it."

  He was being the Major and I found I had to respect his station.

  "You will go where you must, unless Corporal Carpstairs does not think it safe. You are to obey him in this decision, without question."

  I looked at Carpy, so his duties were to be changed. I nodded again. “Yes, I agree to your rules."

  "Good, it is settled then.” He turned to the Corporal. “You will be here in the morning to escort my wife."

  "Evan ... Major, I would prefer to start this morning, if Carpy is free. I will go to the neighbors to find cloth for bandages and show them how to prepare them for use. After the noon meal, I ... we,” I was quick to correct my words, ignoring the signs of anger that I saw building in my husband's face. “will go to the Chapel to help with the patients."

  His eyes were dark and his speech sharp. “Corporal, go to the kitchen and have Lacy get you a decent breakfast. Mrs. Brewster will be with you in a few minutes.” He waited until he was sure no one was within hearing.

  "My dear woman, did you mean to defy me? You had your plans made, knowing that I had not yet come to a decision.” His lips were pressed hard together, perhaps to keep them from spewing out ugly words in anger. I touched them with my finger, then with my own lips. Startled he drew back, his hands held mine as if for protection. His eyes darted around the room. Did he expect someone to jump out of the shadows and ridicule him for kissing his wife?

  "My dear husband, until I heard of your decision and the rules you have set, I had no plan. I had promised to hear you out, and I kept my promise.” I kissed him again, quickly. “Thank you.” I whispered, before I left him.

  Rollin had become Victoria's constant companion, just when Victoria was warming up to Evan. This story was becoming a nineteenth century soap opera, Connie thought with amazement.

  Footsteps in the hall followed by a door closing put Victoria's life back into the journal. Connie went to the wardrobe to return it to its hiding place.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Twenty-Eight

  "Connie, is everything all right?” Brian asked through the closed bathroom door.

  Standing next to the wardrobe, Connie answered. “Yes, Brian, I didn't leave the room or the century since I came back. I have to get some things together. I'll see you downstairs."

  Still embarrassed by her brazen act, Connie didn't want to see Brian alone, not just yet. Checking through the pages from the printer, she made sure everything printed properly and all the pages were in the right order. She secured them with a paperclip and quietly left the room.

  The door to the office stood open. Connie rapped on the jam. “Betty, am I bothering you?"

  Betty Fraiser looked up from the keyboard. “No, not at all. Can I do something for you?"

  "No, everything is great. As a matter of fact, I have the first draft of the article. I thought you might like to read it.” Connie offered the freshly printed documents. “I may have to revise it a bit, but I don't expect many changes."

  Betty stood and moved around the desk. “This is wonderful. I've been anticipating it ever since you proposed the idea. Maybe it will pump new life in the B&B business.” She took the pages and held them to her chest.

  "I hope so. Staying in one of these old houses is the best way to get the true feeling of life as it was.” Aware of the full extent of her statement, Connie felt a little uncomfortable. If she told Betty the whole story of her visit, she would be written off as a nut.

  "I'll read this after supper, if that's all right. I was just getting ready to go help Val in the kitchen."

  "You can read it anytime. If you don't get a chance before I leave, you can e-mail any corrections or comments to me at home. I won't send it in until the end of the month. Do you still have my address?"

  "Yes, I do. But I won't wait that long to read it. I wish I could do it right now. I'll talk to you about it before you leave.” Betty put the article on the desk and followed Connie into the hall.

  * * * *

  "I'm telling you, you took these pictures. I don't cut things off at the top. And I focus, you just point and shot."

  The gentle disagreement drifted into the parlor as Connie crossed to the dining room. Betty detoured to the kitchen. Joe made no comment to his wife's accusations.

  Brian leaned back in one of the high-backed chairs at the far end of the long table smiling at his friends. Connie quietly slipped into the room and headed for the sideboard and a cup of coffee.

  "I wish I could take a camera with me when I trip. I could get some really good pictures.” Joe was going through a stack of photos while Tracey had a second pack on the table in front of her.

  "I doubt if they would be ‘good’ pictures. Really interesting, though, like this one.” Holding one of the snapshots out by its corner, she smiled broadly at her husband. “Just what was it you were taking a picture of? The entire top half of the statue is cut off, the building behind it is almost in the picture, even the clouds and mountains are out of focus."

  "Let me see.” Joe took the photo, holding it at the edges. “Okay, okay.” His manner turned to self-righteous indignation. “Look right there at the base of the statue, there's a baby bird with its mother.” He handed the picture back with a smug expression. Crossing his arms he leaned back, as if waiting for his wife's apology.

  Tracey took the glossy print and tilted it in the light, squinting, she peered closely at it. “I think I can ... yes, yes, I can see a bird ... all right, there are two of them. And just how can you tell they are mother and child?” She watched her husband through a veil of hair, her teasing eyes sparkled.

  "I don't know. It's just a feeling.” He shrugged his shoulders. Turning to Connie, Joe apologized, “Sorry, didn't mean to ignore you. But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.” His pointed glance was for Tracey. “Did you guys have a good day?"

  "Yes.” Connie took her cup to the table. “The Robert E. Lee Memorial Museum and Historical Society is a treasure trove of information.” Briefly Connie told them about the news items she had discovered. “We made a quick stop at the park where the Brewster house once stood. And I visited Victoria. Then I came back here and finished my article. Unless I find something out tomorrow that can be confirmed by history, it's a wrap, and not subject to content change.” She was silent for a minute, thinking about Victoria at the gruesome work of nursing in a makeshift war hospital. Unconsciously she tapped the heirloom she wore on her little finger against the coffee mug, as she related to the Handleys some of the things she found out, confirming the things she read in the journal and saw on her trips to the past.

  Joe shook his head in disbelief. “When you figure out what your conductor is, I want to know. I'm going to get me one of those. But I think it's more that just a conductor. Your connection to Victoria is really tight. And you don't know what it is?"

  "Haven't a clue.” Connie rubbed her arms against a non-existing chill. With deliberate care she avoided looking at Brian, she imagined she could feel his eyes on her. What must he think of her.

  The kitchen door swung open, Val entered carrying a plate of thin sliced turkey breast. She smiled brightly at the group as she set her burden on the table.

  Betty followed close behind the
younger woman. “Make sure there is fresh coffee, and check the sideboard.” She spoke softly and quickly as she put her bowls of vegetables on the table. “Oh, I forgot the butter. Val..."

  "No problem, Betty.” The door quickly swallowed her, and opened again to allow her to put the crock of butter between the guests.

  Betty scanned the table with the critical eye of a hostess, seeing that all was in order, before she and Val moved out of the room.

  "Are you sure you want to go to the battlefield?” Joe's face showed his concern for Connie.

  "I think I have to. Most of the citizens who left the city went to the open fields and woods North of the city, but I think Victoria went with her husband. Evan may have wanted to have her close so he could protect her himself. He might have thought it would be safe to let her help in the field hospital. They were believed to be located down the other side of Marye's Heights. But if the Generals thought that the swamp area was safe from attack, they might have put a hospital there. The Union made a breakthrough in the swamp nearby ... and if there was a hospital ... It could explain what happened to her. She didn't disappear until six months later, but maybe something happened to make her run away. Well, I want to know if Victoria was there. I hope I can talk to her. And maybe I can figure out this conductor."

  * * * *

  While they waited for the table to be cleared before dessert, Connie glanced sideways at Brian.

  "Would you like more coffee?” Brian stood, and waited for her reply. He could still feel the touch of her soft lips on his.

  "Yes, thank you.” She looked up at him as their hands touched, both having reached for the empty cup. “Sorry.” Connie quickly apologized, pulling her hand back.

  "My pleasure.” He made his way around the table.

  The kitchen door swung open as Val backed into the room carrying plates graced with thick slices of almond pound cake drizzled with lemon honey glaze.