by Jane Peart
“That’s why every moment counts, JoBeth. Time is so important now. None of us knows how much we’ve got, what the future holds, or even if we have a future.”
JoBeth gazed at him, wide-eyed. In a flash of insight, she realized she had been wrong about Curtis Channing. He wasn’t as shallow or unthinking as she had assumed. Or at least he’d changed since Christmas. Then he hadn’t seen battle. It had all been an adventure he was embarking upon. Since then he’d fought and been wounded, seen it all firsthand. He knew what war was all about now, when he hadn’t before.
His fingers tightened around her hand. “That’s why telling you that I love you seemed important to me, JoBeth. I know that this man you say you love and are pledged to is a soldier, and maybe I should have some loyalty, some respect for that. But right now I’m here and he isn’t and you’re not sure, can’t be sure, if he’ll come—ever. He has just as much chance of getting killed as I do or anybody does.” The pressure on her hand increased. “I’m sorry. I know I promised not to say any more, didn’t I? It was a promise I shouldn’t have made, one you shouldn’t have asked for. Because I do love you, JoBeth. I don’t think I ever really knew what love was until I met you.”
“Oh, Curtis, love is so much more than what you’re feeling now.” JoBeth halted, then, daring to be truthful said, “Or even what I’m feeling. The reason I asked you to promise is because the person, the solider, I’m waiting for, who I’m here in Richmond to meet, deserves more than this—he deserves my loyalty to our pledge. So please understand.” Her tone was pleading. “I know you’re an honorable man. That you value honor. Honor my asking you not to say any more.”
“That’s the hardest thing anyone’s ever asked me to do,” he said, looking directly into her eyes for a long time. Then he raised her hand, turned it over, and kissed her wrist. His lips were warm on her skin, and in spite of the sun on her back, she shivered.
Curtis released her hand, then stood up. “I’ll get the horses. You’re right—we’d better go back.”
He held her stirrup while she remounted. But when she leaned forward to give Zephyr a reassuring pat, Curtis placed his hand on hers. From her saddle, she looked down into his upturned face and saw such unabashed love there that it took her breath away. She withdrew her hand from under his, and he made the pretense of arranging the edge of her skirt over her boot.
“I shall try to keep my promise not to speak of it, JoBeth, but I cannot stop loving you.” Curtis moved over to his own horse and mounted.
They rode back into town side by side, not speaking, but every so often JoBeth felt his eyes upon her and was irresistibly drawn to turn and meet his gaze.
Back at the Brookes’ home, upstairs in her bedroom, she took off the riding outfit, thinking, I should never have gone. What has come over me? What am I doing? Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. Of course Curtis is attractive, of course his obvious, adoring attention is flattering. But it isn’t right. It isn’t right for me to enjoy it. I shouldn’t allow it. She closed her eyes and put her balled fists up to her temples, pounded them lightly.
It’s only because I miss Wes so terribly. It’s been so long! It’s Wes I love, Wes I want. To substitute what Curtis is willing to give would be betrayal, nothing less.
Chapter Nineteen
Curtis did keep his promise not to speak to her again of his love, but that did not prevent his sending notes, flowers, calling with candy and bouquets. Amelia thought him enormously charming—chivalrous, she declared—because she, too, was included in the gifts he never arrived without. He was always among the other young officers at the regular Sunday night suppers, but Amelia made him feel welcome anytime. She never tired of singing his praises to JoBeth. “Oh, honey, if I were a young lady, I would be swooning at having such a gallant young man courting me.”
JoBeth hardly knew how to reply. Surely Amelia knew she was pledged and that all of Curtis’s charm would not change anything. However, Amelia did try. During the next ten days, Curtis’s visits became more frequent. Perhaps this was what prompted Amelia to tap at JoBeth’s bedroom door one afternoon and ask if they could have a “wee chat.”
“I hope you will take what I’m about to say in the same spirit as I shall say it. But I do declare, I’m worried sick about what you are planning to do, JoBeth.” As JoBeth was about to protest, Amelia held up her hand. “Yes, I know—your Mama has written quite frankly about your situation. I know that this young man you love is a someone you’ve known all your life—but JoBeth, do you really agree with what he has done? Left home, family, his own people, to fight with the Yankees! If you knew what they’ve done—why, some of my friends in Winchester and Petersburg are homeless because of them!” She stopped. “Well, there’s no use to go into all that! I know things because of Jacob’s position that aren’t common knowledge. Enough to say, I have some serious doubts about the wisdom of what you are planning to do.” She paused, shaking her head. “Don’t you understand? Once you go with him, you will be turning your back on your own family, too.” Her eyes misted as she looked with real concern at JoBeth. “Oh, precious child, think of that!”
JoBeth’s own throat was sore with distress at Amelia’s putting into words what she had avoided thinking herself. All she could say was, “Wes is doing what he thinks is right. Surely when the war is over, people will forgive and forget and go on with their lives.”
“Oh, child, you are so naive! The war has gone on longer than anyone imagined. This war has cost too many people too much to be over. The wounds dealt are deeper than one could have foreseen, will never heal, and the scars will last forever. At least for our lifetime.”
JoBeth felt terribly depressed after Amelia left the room.
Her argument, like Uncle Madison and Aunt Josie’s, was so one-sided. They were all talking against Wes as if he were not every bit as committed to his cause as they were to theirs. They ignored everything but the fact that in their opinion, he had chosen the wrong side to fight for.
That night, JoBeth took out the picture of Wes she kept hidden in her handkerchief case. She studied his face, so intelligent, so kind, so candid. As she went to slip it back into its hiding place, her fingers struck something round and hard. Curious, she pulled it out and saw it was the shiny brass button Curtis had yanked off his tunic and given to her last Christmas. She held it in her palm for a minute, thinking that everyone would be so happy if it were Curtis she loved instead of Wes. Everything would be so simple then. But as Wes had said, nothing about this war was simple. And it was Wes she loved, Wes she was waiting for.
Oh, Wes, write soon. Come soon! Before anything more happens.
Then one afternoon Delilah came to tell her that Captain Channing was waiting to see her in the parlor. The first thing she noticed was that he wasn’t wearing his sling. He wasted no time telling her why he had come.
“I’m rejoining my regiment. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ve come to say good-bye. I also came to say how much these last several days have meant to me. I cannot dare to think they have meant the same to you.” He paused, holding up his hand to keep her from speaking. “But I can hope—pray—that when you remember them, you will think kindly of me and consider me to have been an honorable man. I kept my promise not to speak to you again of … love.”
He frowned and walked over to the bow window and looked out for a few minutes before turning back into the room and saying, “I wish you loved me, JoBeth. I wish I could go back to whatever I’m facing and know that you did, know that I had something, someone—some reason to come back to.”
“But you do, Curtis, you must. You have a family, parents, sisters who adore you, and you will have someone in your life—”
“The trouble is, it won’t be you, JoBeth,” he said flatly. “That is, unless—” He stopped, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should voice his thought. “If anything should happen to change your plans—would you let me know?”
“Nothing’s going to change, Curtis. I thought you understood that
.”
“Life is unpredictable. In wartime, more so. Just don’t forget what I’m saying.” He walked over to her. “I will never forget you as long as I live,” he said solemnly. With that he put his hands on her waist and drew her closer. “Kiss me goodbye, JoBeth?”
Before she could demur, he caught her to him, pressed her against his jacket. His face buried in her hair, he whispered, “Please, JoBeth.”
How could she not? She lifted her head and his warm, soft mouth was upon hers. The kiss was hard and there was something in it almost desperate. “Darling, JoBeth,” she heard him say, felt his hands on her upper arms in a bruising grip, and then he released her and was gone. She stood there, shaken by the intensity of his kiss, listening to his booted footsteps on the hall floor, the click of the front door closing. Slowly JoBeth straightened herself. Fighting for control, she raised one hand to her lips and then to her cheek and found it wet with tears.
After Curtis’s departure, JoBeth’s mood was melancholy. She was wracked with guilt and her own ambiguous feelings.
Even though she was preoccupied with her own troubled thoughts and impatiently awaiting word from Wes, JoBeth was not unaware of the tension her presence caused in the Brooke household. The longer she was their house guest, the more she could feel it. She had the distinct impression that Colonel Brooke was unhappy with her prolonged stay. She noticed it mostly in Amelia’s nervousness when her husband was home. At the breakfast table or at dinner, there was an undercurrent in the careful conversation they conducted. While she understood the reason for that, it made her acutely uncomfortable. If only she would hear from Wes and she could leave.
Coming down to supper one evening, JoBeth inadvertently overheard a clash between her hostess and her husband.
“I know you don’t want her here, Jacob, didn’t want her to come—” Amelia’s voice held anxiety.
“You knew that at the outset. I made my feelings quite plain at the time.”
“But how could I refuse? Besides, I never expected it to be this long. Her young man is in a position where a privilege should be granted—”
Not allowing her to finish whatever she was about to say, Colonel Brooke cut her off. “I don’t want to hear about her ‘young man.’I don’t want to know anything about him, their plans…. To me, he is the enemy.”
JoBeth fled back upstairs feeling both humiliated and helpless. She had never not been wanted anywhere before in her life! She had tried so hard to be pleasant, amiable, to Amelia’s taciturn husband. She had thought it was the pressure of his duties, his position, that made him seem so uncommunicative, almost surly sometimes. Now she knew he resented her presence in his house. More than that, he detested the whole situation his wife’s accommodating nature had placed their household in.
It was all she could do to maintain a semblance of naturalness that evening at supper. Fortunately, the colonel was called away by an emergency at his headquarters office and left when the meal had just started. Sitting alone at the table with Amelia was also difficult. She did not want to embarrass her hostess by letting her know she had overhead the sharp exchange between her and Jacob.
What could she do but wait to hear from Wes? And pray that word would come soon and she would no longer have to strain Amelia’s goodness and hospitality, as well as her marriage.
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, JoBeth came down for breakfast, murmured, “Good morning,” then took her seat quietly. Amelia, looking as though she hadn’t slept much, nodded and smiled absently. The colonel was drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper when Delilah brought in the mail. She laid it beside Amelia’s plate, and distractedly Amelia sifted through it. Suddenly she came upon an envelope that caused her to jerk slightly. With a quick look down the table at her husband, then at JoBeth, she slid a letter over to her. At the same time, she signaled with her eyes and an imperceptible shake of her head. Immediately JoBeth was warned and slipped the envelope into her sleeve. In an agony of impatience, she had to wait until the colonel finished his breakfast and bid them both good-bye for the day and left the house. She then pulled out the letter and ripped it open with her knife.
It was the long-awaited letter from Wes. A direct answer to her prayers, and a much more prompt one than she had any reason to hope for. Hungry for details, she skimmed rapidly down the page. Although he could not give her the exact day and time, it would be within the week, sooner rather than later, so she must be packed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
JoBeth looked up from the letter in her shaking hands. “Oh, Amelia, it’s come! It’s from Wes. He’s coming to get me.”
Amelia’s reaction was a mixed one. She seemed both relieved and a little sad. “You have become very dear to me, JoBeth, even in this short time. And now you will be leaving.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I worry about what you are going into and what may become of you.”
JoBeth was too happy, too excited, to hear the note of sadness in the older woman’s voice. Nothing could darken the elation she felt. “You mustn’t worry, Amelia. I’ll be fine. And I’ll be so happy. You’ll see. Wait until you meet Wes. You’ll understand why I love him so. You’ll see he’s everything I told you.”
Two days later another brief note came. He would be there within the next forty-eight hours. Almost two more days to live through! How could she bear it? The two days of waiting passed with agonizing slowness. Then in the late afternoon of the third day, Delilah knocked on the door of the bedroom, where JoBeth was packing. “Miss JoBeth, this jest come fo’ you.” JoBeth dropped the shawl she was putting into her valise and eagerly took the folded slip of paper the maid was holding out to her. “Oh, thank you. I think it’s what I’ve been—,” she said breathlessly and tore it open.
She read what she had so longed to know, in Wes’s dear, familiar handwriting.
My Darling,
I’m in Richmond but of course in hiding. I cannot come in daytime, because of where you are staying. I’m sending this by a trusted servant in the house of a Union sympathizer. I’ll be there this evening after dark. I have our passes and we can travel back to Washington as sister and brother going to see a sick relative. Not entirely true, I know, but of necessity. Be ready, be brave. Soon we will be together.
Hardly able to contain her joy, JoBeth ran down the hall to Amelia’s room and knocked gently. To the answering “Come in,” she entered.
Amelia was lying on the chaise, resting before dinner. She had a book on her lap but looked up as JoBeth approached her and said. “I hate to disturb you, but I have wonderful news.”
“From the look on your face, I can only guess what it is,” Amelia replied, unable to hide the tinge of regret in her voice.
Breathlessly JoBeth told her the contents of Wes’s note.
While they discussed just how his arrival and her departure should be handled, they heard footsteps on the stairway. Colonel Brooke had arrived home unexpectedly early. The two women exchanged wary glances. Amelia squeezed JoBeth’s hand and mouthed the words “Leave this to me.”
After greeting the colonel, JoBeth excused herself and went back to her bedroom and in breathless excitement continued happily packing.
However, down the hall the scene was anything but that of happy anticipation. In her anxiety, Amelia’s voice was unconsciously raised. “But what else could I do, Jacob? She is the daughter of my dearest girlhood friend. We were at school together.”
“Perhaps it is a case of choosing between loyalties,” came the stern rejoinder.
“My dear husband, I beg you, don’t put it that way.”
“What other way can I put it? This is wartime, woman. We should have no choices like this to make. Our allegiance is to the Confederacy. I have taken an oath on it, and as my wife, you—” His tone was harsh. “You expect me to stay calm when you propose harboring an enemy in my household?”
“Surely you don’t consider JoBeth an enemy.”
“No, I consider her a foolish, u
ninformed young woman who does not realize the hazards—not only the risk she is taking but the danger she has put us in.”
“Danger? What possible danger?”
“If it were known that there is to be a rendezvous of a Union sympathizer and her Yankee lover here, in the house of a high-ranking Confederate officer—why, I might even be court-martialed.”
“But who is to know?”
“Richmond is full of spies. They are everywhere.”
“But I can’t refuse to help now, Jacob. Plans have already been made—”
“Plans? What plans?” he demanded. Then, as if understanding had suddenly burst upon him, he exclaimed angrily, “No! Don’t!” He got up and stalked over to the window. With his back to her, he stared out into the street for a full minute before speaking again. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know about it, you understand? Whenever the time comes, give me some signal, and I will go back to my headquarters for a meeting—that evening.”
Ecstatic with anticipation, JoBeth was only vaguely aware of the high drama being enacted in the Brooke household as the hour of Wes’s coming grew nearer. However, the undercurrent was high. Only someone totally insensitive to the electric atmosphere could have remained unaware of it. Late in the afternoon, Colonel Brooke came home briefly and left again after curtly telling Amelia to send word when it would be safe for him to return to his own home. Outside, the autumn dusk gathered quickly. In her bedroom, JoBeth ran back and forth from the window, where she watched anxiously for some sign of Wes’s arrival, to her bedside, where she fell on her knees in frantic prayer that nothing would prevent Wes’s coming.
Just after dark a tap came on the door, and Amelia stuck her head inside. In a whisper, which was no longer necessary, she said, “Your young man is here.”
JoBeth’s feet barely skimmed the steps as she flew down the stairway. In the hall stood a tall figure illuminated by the oil lamp on the table. Wes! Before she reached the last one, he was at the bottom holding out open arms, and she flung herself into them.
