“I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes,” she heard Benton say under his breath, as he ran his hand across the horse’s powerful rump and down his sturdy leg.
Sarah sat back on her heels. “You doubted my choice of horses, Colonel?”
He paused and looked down at her. “Let’s just say I had my reservations.”
Sarah stood and wiped her wet hands on her pants. “He just needed a chance to prove himself.”
When Benton’s gaze went back to the horse, he shook his head as if he still did not believe the certainty of his own eyes. “He was scrawny and hot-tempered and possessed none of the traits I see in him now.”
“Then perhaps you have learned something about making a judgment based on preconceived looks alone.” Sarah climbed back up the bank and stood directly before him. The stern, arrogant lines of his face seemed to have softened, and she thought perhaps he was beginning to doubt his harsh judgment of her. “I recall that you didn’t wish to take a chance on me either.”
Benton remained silent for a moment, but then his entrancing gaze lowered to meet hers. “I didn’t know I had one.”
Sarah blinked as seconds ticked into eternity. His expression, his tone, his intensity did something to make her insides congeal as she tried to read the look in his penetrating eyes. “A chance is something that must be taken,” she said softly. “It is not always granted or bestowed.”
Benton stared at her without speaking, as if now he were trying to determine what exactly she meant by the statement—or perhaps he understood her meaning completely but did not know what to say.
Sarah took the opportunity to relieve him of the reins and swiftly mounted her horse. “It is only a little farther for me,” she said, sticking her feet into the stirrups. “You’d better get back to your command.”
When Benton just nodded, she leaned down until her head was even with his. “You know, Colonel Benton, sometimes you are unusually quiet for a man.”
She saluted him, stuck spurs to her horse and galloped away.
Chapter 12
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched.
They must be felt with the heart.
—Helen Keller
March 1864
In the yard of Waverly, Colonel Benton sat on his horse, gazing at the beautiful picture it made. It was not yet spring, but the day was exceptionally warm, and already flowers of every hue were raising their bountiful blooms toward the sky. Birds sang joyfully from every limb of every tree as if they too were happy the gloomy days of winter were behind them.
Shadows and sunlight mingled here and there on the lawn as the limbs of the oak in the front yard swayed provocatively in the breeze. The gently rustling branches seemed to add another element to the melodious sounds of nature.
Benton urged his horse forward, the soft earth covering the sound of his horse’s approach. It was no surprise, therefore, that Lucy appeared shocked at his sudden appearance as she sat on a bench under the spreading oak near where her husband was buried.
“Colonel Benton!” She stood and strode eagerly toward him. “We were not expecting you!”
Dismounting from his large horse, Benton turned to face her. “Does that mean you’re not happy to see me?”
Lucy stepped into his open arms, smiling broadly. “Of course not!” But then the smile faded. “Have you come to take me away from Waverly?” She looked straight up into his eyes with a face that revealed every mood and thought that flashed across it.
Benton held her at arm’s length. “Yes. Tomorrow morning, Lucy. I’m on my way to headquarters now, and we’ll be back through in the morning. Your family has received word of the little one and are anxious to meet him.”
Lucy’s eyes lit up, but then she bowed her head and stared at the ground. “I’m not sure whether to be terribly excited or horribly upset.”
“You like it here then?”
“My, yes.” Lucy’s eyes were bright. “Miss Sarah has taken wonderful care of me and little Jake—oh, you must come in and see him!”
Benton held out his arm and she accepted it, talking excitedly as they walked toward the house. “Of course, it was difficult with Union soldiers stopping in here so much, but I found they are not so very unlike our own men.” She stopped and gave him a puzzled look. “Though they never did get me to understand why they are fighting for such a bad cause.”
“Nor have they properly explained it to me,” Benton said as they reached the porch. “And where might Miss Sarah be?”
“Most likely in the parlor with little Jake. She spoils him terribly!” Lucy put both hands to her cheeks as if just realizing she would be departing in the morning. “Excuse me, Colonel Benton. I have to pack!” She stepped through the door and started up the stairs, talking over her shoulder as if she had no time to spare. “If she’s not in the parlor, then check the back porch. It’s such a nice day. She may be sitting in the sunshine.”
Colonel Benton removed his hat and stepped into the parlor. Finding it empty, he continued through the house, pausing when he saw Sarah’s figure through the open door. She sat in a chair drenched in sun, rocking the child in her arms. The look on her face displayed pure devotion as she whispered words that only the baby could hear.
For a moment, Benton just stood and stared, contemplating the concerned, caring face bent over the child. Never had he seen a stronger picture of love and compassion, and it made his heart pang at the thought of the torment and isolation she endured. He knew of few people strong enough to bear their troubles in silence, and fewer still so virtuous as not to speak a word of blame toward those who did them injury. She was strength clothed in beauty, with the poise and grace of a queen. Afraid he would be discovered, Benton cleared his throat and walked onto the porch. It did his soul good to see her eyes light up at his appearance.
“Colonel Benton. Come in.” Moving the child to her shoulder, she came forward with an eagerly extended hand and a brilliant smile that lighted her usually solemn face. The look revealed a hidden beauty of sweetness and gentleness all the more winning because so rare. “What a surprise.”
“A pleasant one, I hope.” Although it was apparent she was alone, through habit or excessive caution, Benton lowered his voice when he spoke to her.
“Of course,” she answered. But then, like Lucy, the realization of his duty seemed to hit her and the gleam faded from her countenance. “I suppose you’ve come to take them away from me.”
“I’ve received word from Lucy’s family.” He took a seat in the settee next to her and leaned forward. “They have heard about the child and are anxious for her to come home.”
Sarah closed her eyes a moment. “That must make Lucy very happy. Have you told her?”
“Yes. I just saw her outside. I’m on my way to headquarters now.”
Sarah rocked the baby a few more times before laying him down in a small cradle. “He is such a good boy.” Even though she was looking down, Benton could tell her eyes were misty.
“He’s lucky to have such an aunt.”
Sarah looked up and smiled. “And I was lucky to have had them both with me as long as I did. Thank you.” She walked out of the room for a moment into the hallway, talking as she walked. “You are expecting enemy forces in the region then, Colonel?”
“Shortly. We’re seeing some movement now that the weather has warmed. I thought it best to relocate Lucy while it is safe.”
Sarah reappeared wearing a shawl over her shoulders. She bent down over the child a moment, pulled a blanket over him, and then turned to Benton. “Colonel, I have something of yours that I need to return. Do you have a few minutes to accompany me?”
“Something of mine?” Benton stared at her, thinking she must be mistaken.
Sarah smiled as she saw his confused countenance. “Yes, I’m afraid it was left without your knowledge.”
She walked out the door, apparently assuming Benton would follow her. “It�
�s just a short walk,” she said, moving so quickly that he had to lengthen his stride to keep up. “I’ve had to hide it away from the house. Its value to the Yankees was too great to keep here.”
They had not traveled far through a barely recognizable path in the woods when Benton heard a horse whinny. He stopped a moment to listen.
“It’s not much farther,” Sarah said. “I keep Chance back here. He is worth too much in his current condition to keep in the barn.”
Benton took a deep breath. “Oh, I see. It’s just that the whinny I heard sounded a lot like—”
At that moment, they broke into a small clearing where his horse Vince stood leaning heavily on a haphazard looking fence, raising his head up and down in greeting.
“You’d better go talk to him before he breaks down the fence,” Sarah said.
Benton stood rooted in his tracks, not believing his own eyes. “I thought…I mean, he was supposed to be—”
The horse continued nickering and pawing the ground impatiently as if having a one-sided conversation with his owner. Benton finally walked up to him and patted him tentatively on the head, still not believing his own eyes.
“His injuries were very serious, but as you can see he’s improving,” Sarah said.
Benton looked at the wound, which was still ragged and raw, but appeared to be healing properly. The bullet had torn away a large portion of muscle and tissue, leaving a definite indentation in the flesh of his neck. “How did you…”
“Why must you ask so many questions?” Sarah attached a lead rope to the horse’s halter and handed it over to Benton. “He’s not ready for a battle, but I think he can be ridden lightly.”
Benton ran his hand over the animal in an effort to convince himself he was real, and then turned to follow Sarah back to the house. The two walked in silence for some minutes as Benton attempted to sort out what had occurred. “You know this cannot go unchallenged,” he finally said in a grave voice. “I gave a direct order and it was apparently discarded.”
Sarah put her hand on Benton’s arm and stopped him for a moment. “Yes, you gave a direct order. Do you remember what it was?”
“Of course, I do! I told Private Matson to…to…”
“If I’m not mistaken, your order was to ‘take care of him.’” She nodded toward Vince. “And as you can see, the order was followed implicitly.”
A slow smile began to spread across Benton’s face, and then he laughed out loud. “I suppose Private Matson is waiting for a promotion for this.” As they passed by a wild azalea, Benton snapped off a piece of the fragrant blossom and handed it to Sarah. “For the part you played in this,” he said, bowing. “My gratitude.”
Sarah blushed, and her mouth lifted to a smile again, giving Benton a sign that the woman inside was not entirely immune to the charms of a man. “It’s beautiful, Colonel, and all the more cherished because of the sentiment shared.” Putting the flower to her nose, she inhaled its perfume before grabbing Benton’s arm to steady herself as she walked down the broken path. When she began to laugh softly, Benton marveled at the sound of her mirth finally being let loose from a place where it had been long suppressed. She giggled again like a schoolgirl at the secret she had concealed, all the while keeping her eyes on the rocky, uneven path.
Colonel Benton also kept his eyes on the uneven terrain, a recent rain having washed out deep rivets on the barely marked trail. When he felt Sarah suddenly squeeze his arm and stop, he came to an abrupt halt as well, causing Vince to nearly step on him from behind. Lifting his gaze, he saw Lucy standing a few feet away in the middle of the path, her hands on her hips, a confused look upon her face as she stared at them.
“I-I didn’t know where you went.” Lucy pointed nervously back toward the house as if to explain. “I heard voices, and I…”
Utter silence reigned for a few long seconds that felt like a week. Sarah slowly removed her hand from Benton’s arm as if Lucy would not notice it had been there, and moved the flower to behind her back, letting it drop as if the girl standing right in front of them hadn’t already seen it. She swallowed hard. “Colonel Benton is just collecting his horse.”
Lucy’s gaze shifted to the horse, then to Colonel Benton, and then came to rest back on Sarah. “I don’t understand.”
“Vince was seriously injured in an engagement,” Colonel Benton said casually, starting to walk again as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Mrs. Duvall has a way with horses and was able to restore him to health.”
Lucy continued to look confused, as if the words perhaps made sense but did not match the camaraderie she had just witnessed. She could not have helped hearing Sarah’s laughter—something obviously quite rare. It was apparently not adding up that the two of them were not only amicable, but also sociable. Sworn enemies whose attraction to one another was as impractical as it was evident and undeniable.
“I-I didn’t realize you two were so well acquainted,” Lucy finally said.
Again, silence reigned until at last Benton cleared his throat. “It should not come as a surprise that I’ve gotten to know the sister of one of my best officers.” He looked at Lucy and winked. “Who knows? Perhaps with a little charm I can prevail in getting her to see things our way.”
Lucy turned and started walking back toward the house, talking over her shoulder. “Well, if anyone can do it, you can, Colonel Benton.”
Sarah walked up and looped her arm around Lucy’s. “I wasn’t expecting you two to gang up on me. Is that any way to treat your sister-in-law?”
Lucy giggled and put her arm around Sarah’s waist. “No, I suppose it’s not. You’ve been wonderful to me and Jake. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You can thank me by bringing that son of yours back for visits.” She looked around at Colonel Benton who was staring at the two of them with a relieved smile on his face. “You will transport her back through the lines if you must, won’t you?”
“I will be honored to escort Miss Lucy here for visits—so long as your friends in blue cooperate.”
Sarah frowned and then turned back to Lucy. “You see, the colonel and I have agreed to disagree. I suppose that is the best we can do.”
Lucy turned around and looked at Benton curiously as if she still questioned what she had just witnessed. “Yes, if you say so. I suppose that is the best you can do.”
Chapter 13
Does He not see every throe of anguish, hear every sigh, count every groan
and know every pain? And yet He permits them all, giving a loose rein to
His creatures, that they may in their madness destroy themselves.
—Ellen Harris, 1863
September 1864
Sarah froze for a moment with her hands in a bucketful of suds, listening. There it was again, louder now and not so very distant. Giving her hands a quick wipe on her apron, she ran to the door, flung it open, and stepped out onto the porch in a single move. The sound of battle, probably on the outskirts of Taylorsville, reached her ears yet again as she leaned over the banister, her ear cocked to the south. This time, the spattering of gunfire sounded more serious and ominous. When the low, violent throb of cannon fire reached her, she began to make preparations for what was to come.
“There will be wounded coming,” she muttered to herself as if there was anyone to help or even to hear. The fleeting image of Colonel Benton crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. Although she had no real intelligence to confirm the theory, she instinctively knew he was engaged. Having destroyed a good portion of a wagon train in Midway earlier in the week, she knew the Yankees were intent on retaliation.
After loading her arms with wood, she built a fire in the summer kitchen, all the while listening to the sound of the contest move away and then become extremely loud and fearfully close. After a few hours, the gunfire abated somewhat, although it did not entirely cease. Late in the afternoon, she heard a noise on the porch and rose to investigate.
“Are you alone?” Colonel Benton leane
d against the doorframe in a negligent manner despite his face and uniform being begrimed with gunpowder and sweat.
“Yes. For now. But I expect wounded at any moment.” Sarah swept her gaze both directions of the house and then reached out for his hand. “It must be important or you would not have come. Step in where it’s safer.”
Once inside, she continued talking as she made her way up the stairs. “We’d better talk up here. If we’re surprised by visitors, you can get out through the back staircase. Really, I don’t know why you would come, Colonel Benton, with the enemy so close.” She turned only once, and then just for a moment. “It sounded like quite a large battle. I suppose you were in it?”
“Yes.” The single word sounded strained behind her. Other than that, he did not speak, as if in the many weeks since they had last seen one another, he had been on a prolonged furlough.
“I probably shouldn’t…have come,” he finally whispered, as if not wanting anyone else to hear.
‘You’re probably right,” Sarah replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve no doubt they will be here soon with their wounded.” When Benton did not answer, Sarah turned to him as she entered her bedchamber. For the first time, she noticed how pale he was and how he labored for air. Bathed in sweat, he was panting much harder than the exertion from the stairs warranted.
“Colonel, are you hurt?”
Benton nodded slightly and leaned against the wall behind him as if to catch his breath from the climb. “Yes. I believe so.” He didn’t say anything else, but the expression on his face made it look like he wanted to as he began sliding down the wall toward the floor, leaving a trail of blood smeared behind him.
“Colonel!”
Whatever it was he said in return, Sarah could not understand. She knelt beside him, putting his face in her hands, and waited for him to speak. “Colonel, can you hear me?”
Above and Beyond Page 11
