Love Stays True

by Martha Rogers

  now. After our stop at Grayson’s farm, we can

  make better time. I plan to ask Mr. Grayson

  if he knows the best way through the mountains.

  His brother stirred and turned over. Manfred stowed the journal and unwrapped a packet of biscuits. He fanned the flames of the campfire built the night before.

  Edwin opened his eyes and sat up. “Hey, it’s late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “You needed the sleep.” Manfred handed two biscuits to his brother and took two for himself. “Sorry they’re not hot and buttery like yesterday morning.”

  “Don’t matter none, but I sure could use a cup of that coffee we had then.” Edwin stuffed a portion of biscuit in his mouth.

  Manfred chuckled. “You put those away too fast, and you’ll be hungry within the hour.” He checked the sky and the position of the sun. It was early enough to get a march in before noon. He had set a goal of at least ten hours a day of walking, no matter how tired he became. They wouldn’t have anything to do after dark but to sleep. He’d get his rest then.

  A few minutes later Edwin ate the last morsel of his meal, and Manfred rolled up his blanket. He patted his brother’s back. “Time to hit the road.”

  Edwin nodded and in a few minutes tossed his bedroll over his shoulder. “How far do you think it might be to the Grayson place?”

  “Luke said the farm is a few miles south of St. Stephens Church, and according to this map I drew from the big one, it’s about fifteen, maybe twenty miles after we cross the river. I’d say we should be there by late afternoon or dinnertime.” Manfred scraped the sole of his boot across the ashes of the campfire, making sure no sparks remained. He hitched up his pack and motioned for Edwin to follow him.

  They trekked down to the river, boarded the ferry, and sat down near the edge to watch the water. Several others sat or stood as they made their way across. Two of the men commented on the uniforms. The older of the two said, “We had a few skirmishes around these parts, but nothing like what we’ve heard from around Richmond. Where are you headed?”

  “We’re stopping by the Grayson farm first to relay some news about their son. After that we’ll head for Louisiana and home.”

  “Ah, yes, I know the place. Right friendly folks. You have news of their son, you say?”

  “Yes, sir. Luke Grayson was with us in the prison at Point Lookout. We want to let them know he’ll be coming home soon.”

  The old man nodded and leaned on his cane. “Good, good. News like that will do them well.” He shuffled on over to stand closer to the front of the ferry where his horse was tied.

  Minutes later the ferry bumped against the shoreline, and passengers disembarked to walk or mount horses to continue their journeys.

  Manfred perused his map and checked the directions. He stopped one of the men who had been on the ferry. “Is this the way to St. Stephen’s Church?”

  The man nodded. “Yep. Keep going on this here road. It’s about fifteen miles or so. Miller’s Tavern is nine, and St. Stephen’s beyond that.”

  “Thank you.” Manfred folded the map and stuffed it in his pocket then picked up his pack.

  The sun served as their guide, and they marched at a brisk pace, the younger boy matching him step for step. Manfred smiled. Edwin was determined to prove his strength or die trying.

  After a while Manfred slowed his gait. Edwin wiped his brow and turned to peer at his brother. “I’m glad you finally remembered my legs aren’t as long as yours.”

  Manfred glanced sideways at his brother. “You didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping up.”

  “I was beginning to.” Edwin shifted the load on his back. “I hope Luke’s momma is as good a cook as he said. I’ll be ready for a good meal.”

  “You and me both. I’m sure they’ll be happy to share whatever they have with us in good old-fashioned Southern style. Imagine Luke’s ma and pa will be mighty glad to know he’s alive and coming home soon.”

  They walked a bit in companionable silence until Edwin puckered up and whistled “Dixie.” Manfred joined in, and they spent the next few miles singing and whistling. Edwin expressed the same exhilaration of freedom as Manfred. Blue skies, fresh air, and warm sun filled them both with the joy of being alive.

  A few miles past Miller’s Tavern they came upon a small stream. Manfred removed his hat, knelt, and swished a handful of the cool water over his face. He tested the water for purity then scooped it with his cupped palms and drank. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Edwin dropped his pack and fell to his knees beside Manfred.

  “From the looks of the sun, it’s about time for the last of our rations. We’ve made good time today. If we can keep up the pace and have a good rest each night, we’ll make it home by June.”

  After eating the last of the biscuits, Manfred refilled his canteen with Edwin beside him. Having clean, fresh water helped to bear the warmth of the afternoon sun. Manfred stood and settled his hat securely on his head. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked, Manfred shared his plans for their journey with Edwin. “We don’t have any money, so we’ll have to seek work along the way wherever we can. We’ll go on down Virginia and into Tennessee then down to Alabama and across to Mississippi. I figure we can get to Woodville and see if Sallie’s family is there. I fear the battle at Natchez may have wandered far enough south to hit their home.” That route may take a little longer, but it wouldn’t come near Nashville. He’d seen more of that place than he cared to in his lifetime.

  “I hadn’t considered that. With the fighting so close, no telling what we’ll find.” Edwin stopped and pulled a canteen from his pack. He took a swig of water and glanced toward the sky. “Wish some clouds would come along to cover the sun.”

  Manfred paused alongside Edwin, winced at the sun, and drew the sleeve of his shirt across his sweat-beaded brow. “Does get warm this time of day. I see a town up ahead. It must be St. Stephens Church since we passed Miller’s Tavern already. We can’t be more’n half an hour from the Grayson place.”

  “Good. A nice shady porch and a cool glass of lemonade sounds mighty fine.” Edwin returned the canteen to his pack and headed for the town ahead.

  St. Francisville, Louisiana

  Meals today had been quiet with the men folk not there except for Grandpa. Now Hannah had gone upstairs to get her books to study, so Sallie wandered into the parlor where she sat down at the piano. Her fingers swept deftly across the keys to play her favorite, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. At the end of the music she sat with hands limp on the keyboard.

  “I’ve always loved that piece.” Mama slipped in behind her and rested her hands on Sallie’s shoulders. “But it always makes me sad.”

  “I guess I’m feeling a little sad. I want to know Manfred is alive and well.” Sallie sighed and eased the piano lid down to cover the keys.

  Her mother placed an arm around her shoulders. “I think I have something to cheer you up. Your grandmother and I spoke with Grandpa today. We think it’s time to have some happiness around here, so we’re going to give you a party for your nineteenth birthday.”

  Sallie turned and wrapped her arms around her mother’s slim waist. “Oh, Mama. What a wonderful idea, but do you think it’s all right? With the war and all?”

  Mama held Sallie’s chin with the palm of her hand and stroked her cheek with a gentle touch. “We thought of the war, but we decided a party would be fine. It won’t be a lavish ball like we would have had at home, and it won’t be a grand dinner, but we do have eggs, staples, and some fruit, so we will serve beautiful desserts and have coffee and tea. Besides, it will give you a chance to get together with your friends.”

  “Not many young men left around here, but it will be good for those who have come home.” Sallie sat back and clasped her hands to her chest. “I wish Manfred could be here. It won’t be as much fun without him.”

  “I know, but we want to do this for you. I’m hoping it will cheer you to be arou
nd others your age.” Mama stood and held out a hand to Sallie. “Why don’t we go to Mr. Brady’s store and select the fabric for your party dress?”

  “All right. Let’s get our bonnets.” She hugged her mother.

  Sallie didn’t want to dampen her mother’s enthusiasm and efforts. Even though a party would be good for everyone’s spirits, it wouldn’t be the same without Manfred to help her celebrate. Even with her birthday, Sallie’s heart would not rejoice as it would when Manfred came home. She may have much for which to be thankful, but God had let her down and given her an afternoon of terror she could not forget. A still voice in her heart reminded her that God had protected them. If that was so, then why did that boy have to die? Why hadn’t God protected him? Most likely she’d never know the answers to such questions.

  The bell jingling on the door to Mr. Brady’s store brought her back to the present. Sallie breathed deeply to savor the scent of peppermint.

  Mr. Brady looked up from his writing a receipt for a customer to greet them, a broad smile creasing his ruddy face. “Be with you in a few minutes, Mrs. Dyer.” He turned back to helping the lady standing at the counter.

  Sallie peered around the store until she found the bolts of piece goods stacked on a shelf. She strolled over to the area and lifted several to inspect them. Mama joined her and picked up a bolt of pale yellow lawn with a tiny green leaf pattern.

  “Sallie, this will look lovely with your hair. It will bring out the golden highlights and complement the green in your eyes.” She held the swath in one hand and spread out a corner of the cloth.

  Sallie fingered the delicate fabric. “Oh, I like that one, Mama. And here’s solid yellow cotton to go under it.” She held up the yellow sample in her arms.

  Mama took the bolt from Sallie. “I’ll take these to the counter while you look for a pattern. You’ll need lace and ribbon too.”

  Sallie nodded and headed for the table stacked with several issues of Godey’s Lady’s Book. She flipped through page after page of one then discarded it for another. The book fell open to an illustrated page of party dresses. One featured a full skirt over crinolines and a slightly rounded neckline trimmed with lace. The same lace adorned the short sleeves and front of the bodice with ribbon bows at the edge of each sleeve.

  “Mama, I found one I like,” she called to the front of the store. She carried the book to the counter and pointed a finger to the design. “This one will look pretty with the edge of the neck and sleeves trimmed in lace.”

  Mr. Brady leaned over to see the picture. He nodded his approval. “That’s a good choice, Miss Dyer. It’s in my newest book.”

  “Then that’s the one we’ll use. Mrs. Tenney should have no problem with it.” Mama unrolled the dry goods for a better look. “Yes, I think this fabric will do nicely. We’ll take both of these.” She stepped back from the counter.

  Sallie reached over to the display of ribbon spools and selected a dark green satin to complement the green design. She also chose the lace to adorn the collar. Tingles of excitement shot through her, and she hugged her mother. “Thank you so much for the new dress. It’s going to be beautiful.”

  Much of their clothing had been left behind in Woodville, and looting and pilfering had made short work of those, so having the new dress now lifted her spirits and shoved the darker memories to the recesses of her mind.

  Mr. Brady cut the ribbon and lace and smiled at Sallie. “Been a while since you were in to see us, Miss Sallie. I know your grandmother and grandfather are happy to have you here even though it’s not under the best of circumstances.”

  “Being with them is a blessing, Mr. Brady. God has provided a safe haven for us.”

  He raised his eyebrows then folded the fabric just cut. “Must be a special occasion coming up for you.”

  Heat rose in Sallie’s cheeks. “Yes, sir. It’s my birthday.”

  He shook his head. “Ah, me. You’re all grown-up. Still like peppermints?”

  Sallie ducked her head. “You remembered.”

  He tied the bundle of merchandise with twine. “Well, now. Let’s see what I can do about that.” He handed the package to Mama and then reached into the candy jar with the red and white candies. He scooped out a handful and poured then into a brown bag. “Here’s an early birthday gift.” Mr. Brady handed her the bag. “Have you heard from Manfred Whiteman since his furlough last summer? He sure seemed smitten with you.”

  Sallie’s heart skipped a beat. “No, Mr. Brady. I haven’t heard from him since before the fighting at Nashville last fall.” She held the bag of sweets tightly to her chest. Somehow, doing so brought Manfred closer to her.

  Mama hooked her hand onto Sallie’s elbow. “When the war is over, we expect he’ll be back soon after. Come, Sallie, we must make a stop at Mrs. Tenney’s. Thank you, Mr. Brady, for your help.” She guided Sallie to the door.

  Sallie turned and waved to Mr. Brady. “Good-bye, and thank you for the peppermints.” He smiled and nodded his head. Why in the world had her mother been so short with him? Sallie detected the hint of anger that had pierced the words. Mama didn’t like to talk about the war, and neither did Sallie, but that was no cause for Mama to be rude to Mr. Brady.

  They stepped out into the bright sunshine, and Amanda released Sallie’s arm. Amanda’s mouth set in a firm line. Her shortness with Mr. Brady bothered her, but she didn’t want to talk about the war. Perhaps she should go back and apologize. No, he would understand without her saying a word.

  “He was just being nice, Mama. Why did we have to leave so quick?”

  Amanda blinked. Of course Sallie would notice and comment on the rude words. “We have too much to do to stand around and visit and talk about the war. It’s drawing close to suppertime, and we must finish our business in order not to be late.”

  The confusion and pain in Sallie’s eyes brought more guilt into Amanda’s heart. Her words were true, but Amanda found no pleasure in her explanation to Sallie. Time to change the subject and tell Sallie about the surprise for this evening.

  “My dear, Mr. and Mrs. Whiteman are coming for supper tonight. We wanted it to be a surprise, but I might as well tell you now, so you’ll be prepared.”

  Sallie stopped short. “Mr. and Mrs. Whiteman are coming tonight?” She clasped her hands to her chest. “You said they’d come sometime this week, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon. Perhaps they’ve had news of Manfred.”

  “I don’t know about that, but it will be nice to visit with them. Harriet has been a good friend all the times we’ve visited in the past.” She stopped in front of the dressmakers. “Here we are. We’ll give Mrs. Tenney the fabric and show her the pattern we want.” Amanda doubted Harriett had any news, but she didn’t want to dampen Sallie’s hope. Her child needed to be distracted as much as possible so as not to dwell on the past few weeks.

  Sallie opened the door and stepped inside. Amanda followed her, and Helen Tenney rushed out from the back room to greet them. “Why if it isn’t Mrs. Dyer and Miss Sallie. What can I help you with this fine day?”

  Amanda handed her the package of fabric. “We need a dress for Sallie’s birthday. There’s no real hurry as the occasion isn’t until May, but we did want to get it to you now.”

  “Then we have plenty of time.” She laid the bundle on her table, but before she could open it, Sallie asked, “Mrs. Tenney, is Miriam here?” Miriam was Mrs. Tenney’s daughter, and like Sallie, she was waiting for her young man to return from the war.

  The seamstress unwrapped the fabric. “No, I’m sorry, my dear. She’s at home taking care of her brother, who was feeling poorly this morning. Why don’t you stop by the house and visit with her? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  “Thank you. I might do that. We only arrived a few days ago, so I haven’t had a chance for a visit.”

  “Yes, your grandmother said you had arrived when I saw her at church last Sunday.” Mrs. Tenney spread the green-sprigged cloth across a large cutting table. “Oh, my
, this is lovely.” She peered at Sallie. “What a perfect choice for your coloring, Miss Sallie. Do you have a pattern in mind?”

  Amanda handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s a description of the pattern from the book at Mr. Brady’s. He didn’t think it could be ordered in time. Can you adapt one of yours?” It would take more than three weeks to get the pattern, and if Mrs. Tenney couldn’t duplicate it, then they may have to decide on a different style. Helen Tenney had talent with needle and thread, but did it run to design as well?

  The dressmaker studied the information then turned to a counter along the wall. She pulled out a book similar to that at the store and motioned for Amanda to come over. “I think this is like the one you describe.”

  Sallie peered over the woman’s shoulder. “Yes, that’s it. Can you design a dress like it without the pattern?”

  Mrs. Tenney smoothed the black cotton fabric of her skirt and smiled. “I can do better than that. I have a pattern already here that I did for Judge Clarion’s wife before the war. With a few adaptations and alterations, I think it will be exactly like the one you chose.” She headed for another cabinet and opened it. After searching through a drawer, she returned with the pattern in hand.

  Amanda’s relief spilled over in a hug for Sallie. “Oh, that will be perfect.” With the uncertainty of transportation and mail service, having a pattern on hand would solve many problems. She determined to give Sallie the best celebration of her life even if it couldn’t be like the lavish galas before the war. They would keep things simple but as elegant as their resources and circumstances would allow.

  Satisfied with Mrs. Tenney’s suggestion, Amanda sat down and waited for the seamstress to measure Sallie. She made a mental note of what would be needed to help her mother and Flora when they arrived home. With the food mostly prepared after the noon meal, all she and her mother had left to do was to decorate and set the table. They planned to use the best china and crystal and flowers gathered from the spring blooms in the garden.

  This evening would be a nice break in their usual routine. The only thing to mar the occasion would be the absence of Thomas and their sons. The purpose of their journey clouded the good feelings Amanda had built in her heart. Even if the house was fully restored, could they ask Sallie to return? But if Manfred returned, he could court Sallie properly, and then she wouldn’t have to return to Woodville.