Mississippi Brides

by Diane T. Ashley,Aaron McCarver

  He walked over to where one of the bodies not mangled by the gator lay. Two of them lay lifeless on the riverbank, the blue of their uniforms turning black in the water. His foot flipped the nearest body. The face that stared up at him looked so young, so innocent. Surely this soldier was younger than sixteen. A hollow feeling invaded his stomach. His eyes stung, and his breath came in ragged gasps.

  “Look out!” Hamp’s urgency broke through the misery.

  Hands shoved him hard, and Luke fell to one knee. He twisted and pulled his gun, shooting by instinct. Two blasts rent the air.

  The other wounded soldier fell back, dead before his body hit the ground.

  Time seemed to stretch as Luke straightened. He felt that he was moving through air as thick as syrup. Horror overtook him when he saw Hampton swaying behind him, staring with some surprise at a dark stain on the front of his uniform.

  “I believe you owe me a favor, old man.” Hamp sat down on the muddy bank with a thump.

  Luke reached out to catch him. “No, no. You can’t be hit.”

  “Sorry to argue with a commanding officer”—Hamp coughed and groaned—“but I rather think I am.”

  “Hezekiah! Come quick!” Luke jerked the tail of his shirt free of his pants and tore off a wide strip of lawn. With quick motions, he folded it into a square and pressed it against the hole in Hamp’s chest.

  The large black man splashed across the bayou. “What happened?”

  “We’ve got to get Hamp to town. There’ll be a surgeon there.” Hamp coughed. “I—it’s too late.” Luke turned back to his friend. “You’re going to be okay. You have to be.”

  “Wrong again.”

  “Don’t argue with me. Save your strength.” Luke’s voice was rough. He looked up. “Get something to bind the wound. A belt, a piece of rope, anything.” He continued applying pressure to the awful wound, even though he could feel the blood seeping through the material.

  Hamp’s green eyes were dull and seemed fixed on an object behind Luke’s shoulder. “It’s all right. My soul will be free to join God.”

  “Amen.” Hezekiah handed a frayed rope to Luke. He continued whispering under his breath, and Luke assumed he was praying. He wished he could think of the right words to pray for God to work a miracle.

  It was all over in minutes. Luke continued to hold his friend until Hamp’s body went limp. Tears of regret, anger, and frustration rolled down his face. When would the senseless killing end?

  Gently Hezekiah leaned forward and pulled Hamp’s body away from him. “We need to get out of here.”

  Luke nodded. Any moment the enemy soldiers could return. Then they’d all die. He allowed Hezekiah to lift Hamp’s body over his broad shoulder. Luke picked up all the rifles strewed about on the ground, and they made their way across the forest to the camp. After directing the other men to pack up the camp and follow them to Vicksburg, Luke and Hezekiah saddled their horses and left.

  The tall spire of a church appeared over the rise of a hill. “They deserve to know Hampton died a hero.” Guilt squeezed his chest as he looked back over his shoulder.

  “You don’t need to feel like that, Master Luke. That Yankee soldier is the one who pulled the trigger.”

  “But if I’d been paying attention, that soldier wouldn’t have had a chance to get a shot off at poor old Hamp.”

  “Every man’s got to die, and it’s the good Lord who decides when.”

  Luke wanted to yell at his slave, but he settled for bitterness. “Don’t talk to me about a God who would allow this senseless killing to go on. Hamp was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die.”

  “Maybe God wanted Master Hamp at His side.” The black man didn’t flinch under the heat of Luke’s glare.

  “All I know is Hamp hasn’t even had time to really fall in love or father his own children. Why did Hamp die? Why am I still alive? I’m no better than he is…was.”

  “I don’t know what you want to hear, Master Luke. The good Lord is the only One who knows why this one lives and that one dies.”

  Anger threatened to consume him. It felt like a physical wound, as if he was the one who had been shot. He wanted to kick his stallion to a gallop. The need to feel the wind blowing past him was almost overwhelming. Was he trying to outrun his guilt? Luke didn’t know. He only knew that nothing made sense anymore.

  Caroline couldn’t quell the feeling of unease. Was it the weather? Relentless rain dripped from the eaves of the main house. She and Dinah had not been able to return to the house in the woods for more than a week. Maybe that was the reason for her restlessness. She sighed and put her needlework in the basket at her feet. Rising from the sofa, she drifted toward the window and stared out at the gray afternoon. Summer couldn’t come soon enough for her liking.

  At least she and Grandma Darby were getting along better. Even though she felt it was silly for the two of them to eat in the spacious dining room at the huge table, she held her tongue and endured the formal meals. It was not too high a price to pay in the name of peace. The Lord had answered her prayers about the stilted relationship between her and Luke’s grandmother. Since the day Grandma Darby had asked for sassafras root, things had gotten better. Caroline and Dinah had dug up the gnarled roots and carried them back to Cora. That very afternoon, Grandma Darby had been served sassafras tea made from the pungent roots. Caroline was trying to acquire a taste for it.

  A rustle behind her made Caroline turn. “Good afternoon, Grandma Darby.”

  The older woman frowned. “I don’t see what’s so good about it. We’ve had enough rain to drown ducks.”

  Caroline had a hard time keeping her expression solemn. “Well, I suppose we should give thanks for having such a lovely home to keep us safe and warm.”

  “And what about the soldiers who are not so blessed?” Grandma Darby stalked to the fireplace and held her hands out to the warmth. “It must be miserable for poor Luke and the others. I pray they have found a warm, dry place for shelter.”

  Even though she tried to ignore it, the dark feeling of foreboding grew stronger. “I wonder when we will hear from Luke.”

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a clamor started in the central hallway. She turned toward the door. Hope that it was her husband arriving, no matter how unrealistic that might be, replaced the dread in her heart. She looked out the window for sight of Luke or his stallion. Her eyes widened. A group of black men stood on the front lawn, wearing ragged clothing and angry expressions. “Whatever is going on?”

  “Who is it?” Grandma Darby came to stand next to her. “Slaves? I don’t recognize any of them.”

  At that moment, the door to the parlor opened and Dinah hurried in. “I’m sorry, missus. There’s some men outside, and they’re threatening to burn us out if we don’t give ’em what they want.”

  Grandma Darby gasped. “Burn us out?” What little color she’d had in her face drained away. She put a hand to her forehead and swayed.

  Caroline slipped a hand around her waist and helped her reach the sofa. “You sit here a moment and…” She let her words fade. What was she going to do? Face an angry mob? What would she say? How could she keep them from carrying out their threats?

  Stories of violent slave uprisings returned to haunt her. Were they all about to die? She glanced at Dinah, whose eyes were as large as they had been the day they’d rescued the baby panther. The memory of that day steadied her somehow. God had helped her then. He would be faithful to stand by her today.

  She took a deep breath and sent a prayer heavenward for courage and wisdom. “I’ll be back soon, Grandma Darby. Dinah, why don’t you see if you can brew up some of that sassafras tea? By the time I get done with the men out front, we’ll probably all need a little refreshment.”

  Dinah scurried off to do her bidding while Caroline headed toward the main foyer. She could hear the strident yells of the men outside, but so far the Darby slaves had not allowed any of them to come into their home.

>   She pointed to two of the older footmen. “I need you to stand behind me while I speak with our visitors.”

  The men glanced at each other before turning to follow her. Good. At least now she could give the appearance of authority. She reached for the front door, but one of the footmen stepped past her and opened it, bowing as she passed through the opening.

  The temperature was warmer than she expected, but the dampness seeped into her bones. Ignoring the physical discomfort, she stared out over the group of about twenty men. “I understand you men need some supplies.”

  “That’s right.” One man, apparently the leader, stood on the topmost step. “We’re on our way to join up with the Union army, and we need food and blankets. If you’re not gonna give ’em to us, we’re gonna take ’em.”

  Caroline didn’t answer him right away. Instead she looked at the men behind him, allowing time to meet each man’s gaze. “So you’re going to make war on a couple of women?” She continued to focus on each of the faces, ignoring the leader’s growl. Their faces turned from anger to shame as she continued staring.

  “Why not?” The leader took a step up, his foot landing squarely on the wooden planks of the front porch. “You got enough to share with us, and then some.” He looked her up and down.

  Everything in her wanted to turn and run. And she might have done it if her feet had not been nailed to the floor. But she couldn’t run. She had to stand up to the man and win out. Squaring her shoulders and raising her chin, she faced him down. “We are more than willing to share with you if you’re willing to be calm and respectful. But if you continue to threaten me and my family, I’ll see to it that you’re run off this property without so much as a biscuit to eat.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, she could sense the struggle within him. She prayed hard for the Lord to protect her, to breathe a spirit of conciliation into the man. His gaze dropped to the floor at his feet, and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Relief swept through her like a spring flood. “That’s fine then.” She smiled at the group of men, further relieved when one or two of them returned her smile. “Why don’t all of you go around to the kitchen. Our cook, Cora, will see to your immediate needs while we gather some fresh clothing and food for you.”

  She turned on her heel and swept back toward the door without watching to see if they would follow her instructions. Praises filled her mind. She swept inside on a tide of thanksgiving. Disaster had been averted. Wouldn’t Ma and Pa be shocked to see how she’d stood up to the unruly group? And Luke. Would he be impressed?

  Seeing Mabel, who had probably come after hearing the clamor, Caroline asked her to gather the promised items for the men. She then turned to join Grandma Darby, who met her at the entrance to the parlor.

  Pulling her into a tight embrace, Grandma Darby said, “I’m so glad Luke chose you to be his wife. I don’t know many women brave enough to confront runaway slaves.”

  As soon as she emerged from the embrace, Caroline smiled. “It wasn’t me, you know. It was God. Without His presence, I wouldn’t have known how to act or what to say. God changed the heart of their leader. I saw it happen, Grandma Darby. It was amazing.”

  “I’m sure it was.” Grandma Darby led her to the sofa. Both of them sat down, their hands entwined. “And I don’t know what you must think of me. A foolish old lady who was no help at all.”

  Caroline shook her head. “Don’t even think such a thing. You know more about this plantation than I’ll ever know. All of the details come naturally to you, but they make my head swim. What I did was nothing in comparison. If I had not been here, you would have managed. On the other hand, I could never manage without your knowledge and guidance.”

  Tears swam in the older woman’s eyes, making them gleam. “I don’t know why I’ve been so blind. Can you ever forgive me, Caroline?”

  Leaning forward, she placed a kiss on Grandma Darby’s soft cheek. “Only if you’ll forgive me for my lack of sense.”

  Grandma Darby let go of her hands and hugged Caroline once again. “There’s nothing to forgive, Granddaughter.”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” they said simultaneously. Their gazes met, and they broke into giggles.

  Dinah walked in with a laden tray. “Are you ready for some tea?”

  Caroline nodded, trying unsuccessfully to stop her giggles. She supposed it was a reaction to her fear. She really should go to the kitchen out back and oversee the provisions being given to the visitors. But she wanted to enjoy the new closeness with her grandmother-in-law.

  Grandma Darby looked from the tray to Caroline. “You even thought to order a tray? I think you’re going to make a fine mistress of Shady Oaks.”

  Chapter 12

  Luke could not believe he was about to attend a rally for the troops. Call it what they would, he knew it was nothing more than an opportunity for the citizens to enjoy another evening of dancing and flirting. He could list a thousand reasons why he should not. He’d just lost a close friend. Yankee soldiers were closing in on Vicksburg. And the obvious—he was married.

  Hezekiah fussed with his cravat. “I don’t know about this, Master Luke. What would your grandma say about this?”

  He twisted his chin away from the black man’s fingers. “She’d probably say I deserved a night of leisure after all I’ve been through.” Even though he was looking away from Hezekiah, Luke could feel the large man’s frown. He hunched a shoulder.

  “She would think it’s honorable for you to be seeing another woman?”

  Hezekiah’s firm jerk on the cravat made Luke cough and gasp for breath. “Careful.”

  “I’m sorry, Master Luke.” Hezekiah twisted the length of cotton into some complicated design before stepping back. “It’s done now.”

  It might have been the disappointed look in the other man’s eyes. Or it might have been the voice of conscience. Either way, it made Luke very uncomfortable and not a little defensive. “Don’t raise such smoke over this. It’s not like I’m going to be alone with some female. I’m only going to a dance. Everything will be aboveboard and open to public scrutiny. I would never break my vows.”

  “Christ said we have to stay clean all the way through. It’s not good enough to appear to be good. Just thinking about doing something sinful is as bad as actually doing it.”

  Luke snorted and pushed himself up from his dressing table. “If that were really true, we’d all be lost without hope.”

  Hezekiah’s smile was sad and yet full of wisdom. “That’s why we need Christ. Without Him, not even one of us could look forward to everlasting life.”

  Luke mulled over Hezekiah’s words as he finished dressing. It didn’t make sense. Why would God make it so impossible for men to get to heaven? Why would He make men so fallible they were sure to fail? “Do you think Hampton is in heaven now?”

  “I don’t rightly know, Master Luke. Only the good Lord knows what’s in a man’s soul.”

  “What about you, Hezekiah? Are you going to go to heaven when you die?”

  Hezekiah put down the frock coat he’d been brushing. “Well, yes sir, I am. But I’m not in any special hurry. I love my family, and I’d like to live long enough to see my children placed in good homes.”

  The gentle tone in Hezekiah’s voice awoke something in Luke. It was a yearning. A desire to be like the man who was carefully folding his clothing.

  He shook his head to clear it. What was he thinking? He wanted to be like his slave? A man who didn’t have any control over his life or the lives of his children? What foolishness. He was a successful man, a man others envied. He had a beautiful wife, a thriving plantation, and an idyllic future. By anyone’s standards, he was a man who had everything. “I’m glad you’re not in a hurry to get to heaven.” He clapped Hezekiah on the back. “I’m not ready for you to leave me behind.”

  Hezekiah smiled. “Thank you, Master Luke.”

  Luke checked his reflection in the m
irror before leaving his room. He was ready to enjoy an evening of music and dancing.

  “I was so glad to see you here, Luke.” Marianna’s dark eyes gleamed as he whirled her around on the dance floor.

  Luke wondered why he hadn’t chosen this young lady to be his bride. If only he could go back in time, that’s one thing he would change. The other being his failure to stop Hampton from being killed. “I only wish I was here under happier circumstances.”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “I heard about Mr. Boothe. We will miss him terribly.”

  “Yes.” He kept his answer short. No need to go into detail. He wasn’t sure he could tell her what had happened without breaking down and making a fool of himself. “What’s been going on in Vicksburg since I left?”

  Her sad expression disappeared like a discarded mask. “Geraldine Stringer and Phillip Anderson announced their engagement. They will get married in August.” Her sly glance was full of mischief. “Not everyone is as anxious as you to tie the knot.”

  “And rightly so. If I had to do it again…” He let the words trail off. Marianna was smart enough to understand his implication.

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked past his shoulder. “I have been busy myself.” The words were spoken in an offhand manner, as though her attention was elsewhere.

  A little peeved at her inattention, he swung her around so she would have to focus on him…or at least on her dance steps. “Are you still volunteering your time with the soldiers?”

  “Yes. It’s hard, but rewarding at the same time.” Her answer sounded stilted to him. As though she was answering him by rote. She felt stiffer, too. Was she no longer comfortable dancing with him?

  Before he could ask if he had offended Marianna in some way, the music ended. He escorted her back to her mother and watched as one of his commanding officers, Major Fontenot, approached.