That battle took place too close to his hometown of Bayou Sara and had even damaged Grace Church up at St. Francisville. He’d seen the damage on his furlough home. His two older brothers had been captured at Port Hudson, and Manfred had no idea where they were now.
St. Francisville may have been spared, but it had been a close call for Sallie’s grandparents and the other citizens of the small town. He held the worn paper to his lips. With God’s help he’d get home and claim Sallie for his bride.
The hair on the back of his neck bristled, and goose bumps popped out on his arms. The foreboding feeling from earlier wouldn’t leave and swept over him now even stronger, as though he sat on the edge of something powerful looming in the day ahead.
St. Francisville, Louisiana
Sallie Dyer sat at her dressing table running a brush through her mass of tangled curls. Tears blurred her image in the mirror, and she grimaced as the bristles caught in another snarl. She dropped the brush onto her lap.
“Lettie, what am I to do? Not knowing about Manfred is too painful to bear.” She scrunched a handful of auburn hair against her head. “Nothing’s going right. I can’t even brush my hair. I hate the war and . . . ” Her voice trailed off, and she dropped her gaze to the floor then turned toward Lettie. “What am I to do?”
The housemaid clucked her tongue and fluffed the pillows on the walnut four-poster bed. “I don’t know, Miss Sallie. I hate the war too. Too many are dyin’ out there.”
Lettie’s skirt swished as she crossed the room. She picked up the discarded brush and began smoothing out the mass of curls. “You know, Miss Sallie, you have the prettiest red hair in all of Louisiana.”
Sallie lifted her tear-stained eyes and found Lettie’s reflection in the mirror staring back.
“You got to have courage. God is takin’ care of Mr. Manfred.”
“Oh, but the waiting is so hard.” Sallie swiped her fingers across her wet cheeks. In a letter last fall Manfred had written that he was headed to Nashville. Stories coming back from that area spoke of the volumes of soldiers killed at Franklin and then up at Nashville in December. Reports said the surviving young men had been taken prisoner, but no one knew to which prison.
“Lettie, do you truly believe Manfred will come home?”
“Yes, Miss Sallie, I do, and when he comes, you’ll be ready and waitin’.” In a few minutes Lettie’s skilled fingers had tamed the unruly ringlets and secured them with a silver clasp at Sallie’s neck.
“Thank you. I’m all out of sorts this morning. Here it is April, and I haven’t heard a word since November.” Her fears tumbled back into her mind. “Too many have died, and I don’t want Manfred . . . ” She couldn’t utter the words. Saying them might make them true.
She pressed her lips together and pushed a few stray tendrils from her face. She had to get her fears under control. She once believed God would give her the peace He promised, but no matter how hard she prayed, no answers came. God had abandoned her on that awful day last week when she had killed that young man. He hadn’t protected her that afternoon, and now her prayers fell on deaf ears.
Lettie secured the wayward strands with the others under the clips. “Now, Miss Sallie, I done told you we got to believe they’re alive and comin’ home. We can’t do nothin’ about the war. Your mama and grandma need you to be strong. When Mr. Manfred gets home, he’ll be courtin’ you right proper like. You’ll see.”
Lettie must be more concerned than she let on. She only slipped back to the dialect of her family when worried. Sallie turned and wrapped her arms around the dark-skinned girl’s thin waist. “I want to believe you, I really do, but it’s almost more than I can bear.”
After blinking her eyes to clear them, Sallie stared into the dark brown eyes of her friend. Lettie had been with Sallie since childhood, and they shared so much life with each other. If it had not been for Lettie and her mother, Sallie might never have regained her sanity after the incident in Mississippi that brought them all to St. Francisville.
A chill passed through her body at the memory of the day they had fled from their home. Sallie’s last act of defense would be one that would stay with her the rest of her life. Even now she could see the young soldier with the red oozing from his chest. It was the first time she’d ever seen a dead person, and now, only a week later, the image would not leave her, fresh as the day it happened.
The young servant’s brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “Are you thinking about what happened back home?”
How well Lettie knew her. Sallie sniffed and blinked away the tears.
“Then you best stop it. What you did had to be done, and we both know it. You saved all our lives.”
It didn’t matter that Lettie spoke true. The images of war could not be erased from Sallie’s mind. “I just want this war to end.”
“Well now, I want that too, but it’s all in God’s hands. But think how Mr. Charles and Mr. Henry got back from the war only a few weeks ago. Theo’s back home too, so you have to believe the other two will come home before long.”
True. Of the five Whiteman brothers, only Edwin and Manfred remained unaccounted for. Charles and Henry Whiteman had been taken prisoner at Port Hudson but exchanged and sent home. Even Theo now sat safe at home after his last escapade revealed him too young to be in the army. She must have hope for Manfred and Edwin.
Lettie lifted the edge of her white apron and patted Sallie’s cheeks dry. “There now, Miss Sallie. It’s all goin’ to be fine. It’ll all be over soon. I just know it. I feel it in my bones. Besides, Easter’s a comin’, and that means a new season, new life, and new hope.”
“You and Mama, the eternal optimists, but I love you for it. You always know how to make me feel better.” Sallie breathed deeply and reached for a green ribbon to secure in her hair.
She would get through this day just as she had all the ones since Manfred left. Then the memory of what she overheard between her father and mother last night drained away her determination. She peered up at Lettie. “I need to tell you something.” Sallie squeezed the hand now clasped in hers.
At Lettie’s solemn nod Sallie took a deep breath and revealed her worry. “Last night I couldn’t sleep, and I heard Papa come in from his trip back to Woodville. I sneaked downstairs to see him, but he was in the parlor talking to Grandpa.”
Sallie’s lips trembled. “Our house in Woodville is ruined. The Yanks ransacked the place and took all kinds of things from our home. Papa said they’d left it in shambles. Mama’s beautiful things. Oh, Lettie, it’s just terrible.” After Sallie and the other women had fled the land, Papa and her brothers stayed behind until the next day, then joined the rest of the family in St. Francisville. He’d gone back to Woodville a few days ago, a twenty-five mile journey, when he heard the Yankees had moved on north.
Lettie pressed her hand against her cheek, her eyes open wide. “Oh, I’m sorry. Your poor mama. It’s so sad. No wonder you’re feelin’ blue this morning.”
Sallie squeezed Lettie’s hand again and for the next few moments sat in silence. Lettie understood her better than anyone else. The servant girl knew her deepest secrets and could be trusted to keep them.
“You are such a comfort. I don’t know how I’d get through these days without you to share my worries.”
Lettie patted Sallie’s hand. “We’ve been together too long and been through too much for me not to be with you.” She stepped back. “Come, now, let’s get you dressed. Your family will be waitin’, and you know your grandpa doesn’t like cold eggs or tardy children, even if you are his favorite.”
That statement brought a bit of smile. She did love Grandpa Woodruff, but he could be gruff when the occasion arose. She hastened over to a bench by the bed and picked up a green and white print cotton dress. Lettie grasped it and slipped her arms up inside it, and Sallie held up her arms.
“I believe Mama invited the Whiteman family for supper one night soon. I’m anxious to speak to Manfred’s mother
. Perhaps she’s heard from him.”
The dress billowed about her as Lettie placed it over Sallie’s shoulders. She pulled the bodice up over arms and let the full skirt fall down over her hips and the myriad number of petticoats. At least Mama and Grandma didn’t require her to wear a corset or hoops with her day dresses. Lettie’s nimble fingers went to work on the buttons lined up the back.
“I think you lost more weight, missy. This dress is looser than it was last week. You sure don’t even need your corset. You have to eat more.” She peered over Sallie’s shoulder into the mirror and shook her head.
Looking over her shoulder, Sallie smoothed the dress around her waist. She gathered the wrinkles from the excess fabric. “It is big, but I’m just not hungry.” At Lettie’s stern gaze she added, “But I’ll try to eat more.”
Lettie sniffed the air. “If that aroma coming from the kitchen is what I think it is, my mammy’s ham and eggs should do the trick. She’ll have biscuits and gravy too.”
Sallie nodded. “I promise I’ll eat some of everything this morning.” A promise she would try to keep, especially with her grandmother’s and Flora’s cooking being so delicious.
The two girls locked arms and walked down the stairs together. At the bottom Lettie headed for the kitchen to help her mother. Sallie forced a smile to her lips and went into the dining room to join her family for breakfast.
CHAPTER 2
* * *
Point Lookout, Maryland
THE PRISON CAMP offered nothing much to do most days except to sleep or just sit and talk. Most were too weak and ill to do anything else. Walking up and down the main aisle and a few stretching exercises helped keep Manfred more fit than some of the others, but it still wasn’t enough to keep him as physically strong as he had been. Still, he’d stayed strong enough to fight off the typhoid and dysentery that took so many of the men.
“Morning, Manfred. How’s it going?” Luke Grayson, one of the other prisoners, knelt beside Manfred and twiddled a piece of straw in his hands.
“Same as usual.” Manfred moved over and made room for the fair-haired young man to sit on the mat. Although like him Luke had only been here a little less than two months, his body told the same tale of lack of food as those who had been here longer.
Manfred gazed around at the damp, filthy structure that had served as both prison and home for the past few months since his transfer from that horrible place in Ohio. Clumps of straw covered with moth-eaten blankets and rag sheets served as beds. None of them had any more than the clothes on their backs and a few personal items in knapsacks or small packets that had been returned to them.
His gaze shifted from Luke to Edwin. Both were too young to be away from home fighting a war. Luke’s blue eyes were as sunken into his face as Edwin’s brown ones. Their dirty hair needed a good washing and cutting. But at least they were alive.
Luke reached across to touch Edwin’s arm. “And how is your healing coming along?”
Edwin flipped back to face them and rubbed his shoulder. “I’m getting better. The pain’s almost gone. How about you?”
“I’m fine. But I want to get home. It’s so close—just across the river there in Virginia. About a day or so walk from the Rappahannock River to the Grayson farm. If I could get out of here, I’d be home in a couple or three days. That is, if there’s anything left. No telling what those Yanks have done.” Luke’s hands dropped into his lap, and his chin sagged to rest on his chest.
Edwin sat up and crossed his legs with his fists clenched and resting on his thighs. “We have to believe we’ll get home. I hate sitting around here all day rotting with nothing to do.”
Manfred shook his head. “So do I, but we can plan, hope, and dream about the future. I believe God will see us through this.” He reached over to grasp his brother’s arm. “At least we’re still alive.”
Manfred stood and stretched. The stiffness in his knees reminded him once again of his lack of real exercise the past months. How he longed to run free. “After Port Hudson was captured, we lost contact with our brothers. Ma’s last letter said Pa was getting his shipping business started again with the one boat they salvaged. I still worry about them.”
Manfred sat back down. He wiggled a toe peeking through a hole in his sock and reached over for the pair he had picked up the night before. “Don’t suppose we’ll find much of the South the same. It’s all been touched in some way by the looting and burning of property. But something’s up. I can feel it.” He removed the tattered sock and pulled the better one up over his foot.
Edwin unwound his legs then rolled over on his stomach and rested his forehead on his hands. “Can’t come too soon for me.” He closed his eyes.
Luke squatted with his elbows resting on his knees. “Saw you reading a while ago. What was it?”
“Just my journal, and a letter.” Manfred patted the straw where he had stowed the book. “It helps me keep my sanity.”
“I wish I had my Bible, but it got lost in the battle.” He nodded toward Edwin, now asleep. “Looks like Edwin has the right idea. Think I’ll get on back to my little space.” He shuffled down the narrow aisle to his blanket.
Manfred’s gaze rested on his younger brother. Edwin had joined the Fourth Louisiana unit a few weeks after his seventeenth birthday. Now nineteen, he had served with Manfred while their two older brothers fought in other areas.
Images of home brought a smile to Manfred’s lips as he remembered Sallie, his sweetheart. The Dyer family lived in Woodville, a little over half a day’s ride up the road from his home and over the Louisiana line into Mississippi, but Sallie’s family made frequent trips to her grandparent’s home near where Manfred and his family lived, and that’s where they had met and courted.
He reached into his pocket and removed Sallie’s letter once again. No need to open it, he’d memorized every word. As long as he believed his dreams and held on to them, he’d get home and see Sallie and fulfill his desire to become a doctor. He wanted to heal people, not hurt them.
St. Francisville, Louisiana
Amanda Dyer found her husband in the barn. She wrinkled her nose at the odor of hay and horseflesh. “Thomas, why must you muck out the stalls yourself? Papa has plenty of men who can do that.”
“I need to work off my anger. Besides, only Moses and George stayed after the others were given their freedom. Remember?” Thomas leaned on his shovel.
“Yes, but couldn’t George do it?” Her gaze swept around the stalls where horses whinnied and bobbed their heads. At least they still had the horses that had provided their escape a week ago. Amanda shuddered at the memory of their flight.
Thomas swiped his brow with a kerchief. “What brings you out here?”
“I must speak with you about our house in Woodville.”
Thomas laid down the shovel and grasped the crook of Amanda’s arm. “Let’s go outside and talk there.”
She walked beside him to the yard and left the unpleasant odors of the barn behind. They sat on a bench under a large oak tree surrounded by azaleas at the end of their season.
“Now, what more do you need to know than what I’ve already told you?”
Amanda plucked a leaf from a bush beside her and twisted it between her fingers. “I must know if you told me everything. It sounded bad, but I’m wondering if was really worse.”
Thomas wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “My dear, I told you all of it. The house itself is stable, and we can repair it without too much trouble if I can get the supplies. Only the inside sustained much damage, just like I said. I might even be able to scrounge around and find some of our belongings spread over the land.”
She blinked back tears. “I don’t care about things. It’s you and the boys I’m worried about. You’re sure it’s safe to take the boys with you? With Will’s eagerness to fight this war, he might do something foolish. Next fall he’ll turn seventeen and will be of age to run off and join the Louisiana regiment if he takes a mind to, even thou
gh he knows I disapprove. What if he gets up there and decides to go off on his own?”
“He won’t. There’s too much work to be done, and I believe the Yanks have moved far enough away to keep us from harm. I promise you I’ll keep Will and Tom close by and busy.”
“You said that this morning, and I do want to believe you, but my heart fears the unknown.”
“Trust me, Amanda, I won’t let anything happen to our sons.” He placed his fingers on her chin and turned her face toward his. “My dear, we will be all right, but if you have such worries for our safety, I can delay the repairs. The supplies haven’t arrived as yet, so a few more days after they do won’t make a big difference.”
She shook her head. How she loved this man who had come into her life over twenty years ago and persuaded her to go to Mississippi to live. He proved his love now by his willingness to stay here and keep their sons at home. How could she not trust the Lord to take care of him and the boys?
“No, as soon as the things we ordered arrive, you must go, Thomas. The Lord will watch over you and calm my fears. I must remember that when I cast my cares on Him, I should not try to take them back.”
“That’s why I love you. You let the Lord be your guide.” His lips brushed hers then settled in a kiss that transported her back to their first one under this very tree.
She leaned back and smiled. “I love you, Thomas, and whatever you do, I will support you.” Amanda stood. “I’ll get Flora to help me pack sacks of supplies for you and the boys when you leave. You surely won’t go hungry with her help.”
Love Stays True Page 2
