Love Stays True

by Martha Rogers

  Edwin immediately rebelled. “I’ve been in prison for months, and I’m not going to be tied up again.” He danced his horse out of reach of the man trying to rope his hands.

  Manfred called, “Calm down, Edwin. We’ll be okay. This won’t last long.” He crossed his hands behind his back and let the rope be placed around them. As much as he hated the feel of the restraint on his wrists, he had done nothing wrong, and God would take care of him and Edwin. If only he could convince Edwin.

  His brother clamped his lips tightly together and glared at Manfred, but he let his hands be tied. The three other men did the same, but an evil smirk graced Jesse’s lips, and his eyes all but dared Manfred to mention Frank.

  The ride into town took less than an hour. Men and women gathered on the street to watch the group trot into town. The posse pulled to a halt in front of the law office and town jail. The leader of the posse swung down from his saddle and spoke with the lawman.

  Several men joined the two lawmen. Manfred overheard one of the men addressed as the mayor. After a brief conference the boys were pulled from their mounts and pushed inside the jail. Clem, Jesse, and Al sauntered into a cell and stood quietly as a deputy unbound their wrists.

  The lawman then shoved Manfred and Edwin into another cell and untied the ropes. Edwin rubbed his wrists and glared at Manfred. He understood his brother’s feelings. Freedom had been sweet while they had it, but when things were straightened out with the sheriff here, they’d be free again.

  The cell door clanged shut, and the key scraped in the lock. Edwin slumped onto the cot and propped his head in his hands, his eyes toward the floor.

  Manfred knelt beside him. “I’m sorry, Edwin. We’ll get out of this because we haven’t done anything wrong. Trust in the Lord and pray.” If they told the truth, this problem had to work itself out in their favor.

  The jailer returned. “Sheriff Dobson rode out to the Carswell farm. He’ll be back with Mr. Carswell to identify his horses.”

  Edwin sprang from the cot and thrust his arms through the bars in an attempt to grab the jailer. He waved his arms and yelled, “We didn’t steal any horses. I spent the last two months in a dirty hole of a Yankee prison, and I don’t intend to spend any more time locked up. Let us out of here now!”

  Manfred yanked Edwin back and held the boy’s arms to his sides. “Simmer down. We’ll straighten this mess out.” He pushed Edwin onto the cot then turned back to the guard. Perhaps he’d be able to explain and get them out of here.

  “I apologize for my brother. We’ve had a rough few months. We have a bill of sale for our horses signed by Zeke Grayson.”

  The jailer scratched his head. “Don’t see as how I can do anything with that until the sheriff gets back. Maude Barnes will be over from the tavern shortly with dinner for you.” He turned back to the office. At the door he turned and smiled. “I hope it all checks out. You don’t look like any horse thieves to me.” Then he turned to the other cell. “Sure can’t say the same for you all.”

  The door banged shut, and a key grated in the lock. Manfred glanced over to the opposite cell. All three men sat calmly. Manfred noted the smirk again on Clem’s face and figured those boys were up to no good. And where was Frank? He wouldn’t let the others be locked up while he rode away free.

  Then the truth dawned on Manfred. Frank didn’t plan on leaving his men in jail. That’s why he’d left the trail and probably why he’d been happy to have Edwin and Manfred join the group.

  Whatever happened in the next hour or so would have a definite effect on whether or not the sheriff would believe his story. Manfred slumped to the second cot and leaned against the brick wall, his head down. If the Lord planned to get them out of this mess, Manfred preferred it be done now and not later.

  A sigh escaped as he closed his eyes and leaned his head on the wall. How he longed for his pack and his journal. He wanted to get that letter to Sallie finished and posted before they left Hanover. But for now he had to work on keeping his attitude in the right place and convince Edwin to keep his temper in check. Anger and harsh words would only serve to strengthen the accusations against them, not prove their innocence.

  St. Francisville, Louisiana

  After reading one page three times, Sallie laid her book aside and gazed down at Hannah, who sat on the floor with her books. Even though she’d soon be thirteen, she was still too young to understand everything about the past five years. At least she hadn’t seen all that had happened in Woodville. Now that the war had ended, Hannah could keep her mind on her games and toys and plan for a future.

  Every time the prospect of returning to Woodville came to mind, fear entered right along with it. How would she feel when she went up the back stoop and into the house again? If blood or any other evidence of the battle remained, she wouldn’t be able to stand it. She had never intended to kill anyone. Papa would have the house cleaned up and ready for them to live in again, but mental images could never be erased.

  “Sallie, will you help me with this puzzle?” Her sister held up two pieces of the wood puzzle Papa had made for her.

  Sallie shook herself. She must forget Woodville and all she had experienced there. The happy memories of her childhood must be the ones to dwell on now. She could continue to protect Hannah from ever knowing the truth.

  Sallie knelt beside her sister on the floor under the window. “What seems to be the problem?”

  For the next half hour the two sat head to head fitting pieces together and giggling when they didn’t. At one point Sallie glanced up and spotted Grandma in the doorway.

  What a sight the elderly woman presented with her hair barely peeking out from the little cap she wore when napping. “Good afternoon, Grandma. We didn’t disturb your rest, did we?”

  “No, and don’t let me interrupt you. The two of you make a beautiful picture sitting there, and I wanted to savor the moment.” She waved her hand and headed back to her room.

  “Goodness. Look at the shadows.” Sallie stood and shook out her green cotton skirt and adjusted the collar of her dress. “We’ve been sitting quite a spell.” And what a wonderful respite it had been. As long as she had her little sister around, peace would replace the turmoil in her heart.

  Hannah hugged her knees to her chest. “It’s almost finished. Thank you for helping me. I can do it myself now.”

  “I’m sure you can. I’m going down to see if I can find a glass of lemonade somewhere. Flora usually makes some this time of day. Want to come with me?”

  “No, I’ll stay here.” Hannah gazed up at Sallie. A slight frown formed. “Sallie, you looked so sad awhile ago. That’s why I asked you to help me. I want you to be happy all the time now.” She stood and wrapped her arms around Sallie’s waist.

  Sallie smoothed back an errant curl of her sister’s hair. They were but an inch or so from being eye-to-eye. “Oh, dear, sweet Hannah. I want to be happy too. Maybe the birthday party will help.”

  Hannah tilted her head and gazed at Sallie. “I’m glad I’m going to your party. Jeremiah Simpson isn’t so bad, except when he pulls my curls or unties my ribbons.”

  “He does that to make you angry. I think he likes you.” Sallie released the girl’s hold and stood back to look at her. If the young men here or in Mississippi had any sense at all, they’d overlook her deformed leg and see the beauty in her face and heart.

  “Oh, pooh. He does not. He even makes fun of my feet.” Hannah plopped back to the floor and stuck her uneven legs out from under her skirt.

  “I see.” She’d never expected to hear that about Jeremiah. She leaned over and hugged Hannah. “Sure you don’t want to come with me?”

  “No, I’ll stay up here until supper.” She concentrated on another puzzle piece.

  Sallie found Mama in the parlor working on a cross-stitch sampler. “Come in and sit by me, dear. Flora is bringing in lemonade and tea cakes in a few minutes. Lettie’s running errands for her.”

  Sallie shrugged and sat down.
Talk with her friend would have to wait. She settled on the sofa and fingered her skirt then leaned her head against the back.

  Mama laid aside her stitching and peered over her glasses. “Now, Sallie, what is bothering you?”

  “I don’t know, Mama. I’m restless, and I guess bored too. It’s always so quiet after Papa and the boys leave.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. Why couldn’t she speak up and tell her mother what was going on inside? Mama would understand and have good advice. Still Sallie hesitated. Bringing everything out in the open might make it worse.

  “Hmm, I see. The invitations have been sent, the party’s all planned, and your dress is nearly ready for a fitting at Mrs. Tenney’s. Not much else to do.”

  Flora entered carrying a silver tray laden with a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and a platter of cookies. A knock sounded at the door as she set the tray on the table. She scurried to answer.

  A few moments later Flora reappeared carrying a cream-colored vellum envelope. “The Elliots’ coachman brought this to you, Miss Sallie.”

  Sallie searched the envelope but found only her name in black script. When she opened the flap, a card printed in black fluttered out. Retrieving it, she began to read. Her eyes opened wide and she gasped. “It’s an invitation to the Elliots for a celebration welcoming home Benjamin.”

  Mama reached for the paper. “How wonderful. Next week, Saturday the twenty-ninth. That’s soon, and it’s formal. What will you wear . . . ?” Her voice trailed off, her fingers on her chin.

  Sallie slumped onto the sofa. “With my new birthday dress, we don’t need to order another one so soon.” She couldn’t put the burden of another dress on her parents with the repairs going on at their home. Their house was more important than some party. Besides, her spirits didn’t feel up to attending such a grand party as the Elliots would have. She would have to turn down the invitation.

  Mama tapped a cheek with her forefinger. “I think we can manage to find something. Let’s go look at your wardrobe.” She grasped Sallie’s hand to pull her from the sofa. “My dear, don’t look so forlorn. Just remember that if Ben Elliot is home, then Manfred will be home soon too.”

  Sallie’s spirits brightened. Mama was right. Soldiers were coming home, and nothing would keep Manfred from doing the same no matter how long it took.

  When she followed her mother into the bedroom, Hannah had moved to a chair by the window and worked on her new piece of embroidery. Mama addressed Hannah. “Sweetheart, Flora has lemonade and cookies in the parlor. Wouldn’t you like to have some?”

  The young girl gazed from Mama to Sallie. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again promptly. “Yes, Mama. I think I would.” She laid aside her needlework and left the room, trying in vain to keep her heavy shoe from thumping on the floor. At the doorway she glanced back, shrugged her shoulders, and disappeared from view.

  Sallie caressed a pale blue silk dress hanging in her wardrobe, one she’d brought here several months ago to have on hand for special occasions. Why didn’t joy and excitement for Ben’s homecoming fill her as it normally would have? Mrs. Elliot had reason to celebrate just as Manfred’s family would on his return.

  A cold chill passed through her body, and she turned to grab her mother. “Mama, something’s happened to Manfred. He’s in danger.”

  Mama gasped then wrapped her arms around Sallie’s back. “Dear child, how can that be? The war is over.”

  “I don’t know, but I do know something has happened. I can feel it. Oh, Mama, he’s in terrible trouble. What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to pray for him right now.” Mama grabbed her hand and pulled Sallie down beside her on the bed.

  CHAPTER 13

  * * *

  Hanover, Virginia

  EDWIN PACED THE cell and continued to mutter, “We didn’t do anything. We don’t belong here. Why didn’t you do something, Manfred?” He kicked his cot and heaved a slop bucket at the wall.

  The pail banged against the brick then clattered to the floor. Manfred winced then reached out and grabbed Edwin’s arm. “Get control of yourself. This’ll get you nowhere.” The same anger raging in Edwin roiled inside Manfred’s own heart, but a few added years of maturity and common sense allowed him to contain the anger.

  Manfred pushed the younger boy onto the cot and sat down beside him. “Soon as they see the paper from Mr. Grayson, they’ll let us go. We were planning to spend the night here anyway, so let’s rest and enjoy our meal. It should be here soon.”

  The outer door swung open and an elderly woman entered, followed by the jailer. They carried trays of food covered by large napkins. The plump little woman smiled and shoved the tray through the slot on the cell door. “Hello, boys. Brought your meal for you. Hope you like stew and cornbread.”

  Manfred grasped the sides of the tray and pulled it through to his side. “Thank you. We appreciate your taking care of us.” The aroma of stew and cornbread reminded him of how long it’d been since their last meal. Then he shook his head. He’d gone much longer than this between good meals in the past few months. Gratitude for the Lord’s provision filled his heart, even if the meal happened to be in another prison.

  The woman waited while the jailer deposited the tray in the cell across the way. She tugged at the man’s arm. “These two young’uns over here don’t look like any horse thieves to me. Sheriff Dobson better let them go.”

  The jailer patted her hand. “I think he will, Miss Maude.” He stopped and spoke to Manfred. “The sheriff’ll be back soon. Then maybe we’ll get this mess straightened out. I sure hope you boys are telling the truth.”

  “We are. The paper’s in my pack. Thanks for the dinner.” Manfred gripped the bars, his knuckles white. Why couldn’t the man just look in the saddlebag and find the proof? Sometimes the ways of the law took forever to find the truth.

  After the deputy departed, Manfred removed the cloth from the tray and sat down to enjoy the dinner. Edwin took his bowl and spoon and sat on the cot opposite Manfred, still mumbling about wanting to get out of the place.

  When the door thumped closed, Clem leaned against the bars of his cell. “We don’t plan to be here when that sheriff returns.” He tipped his hat back on his head and peered across at Manfred and Edwin with a smirk on his face.

  Edwin jumped to his feet. “Just how are you going to manage that?”

  “Frank didn’t hide in them trees for nothing. He’ll be here to get us out soon. You two better come with us.” Clem scratched the stubble on his chin.

  Manfred grabbed Edwin’s elbow and squeezed it. “I don’t think so. They’ll be hunting you for sure. We don’t have time to be running from any lawmen.”

  Edwin glared at Manfred. “You really think that sheriff will let us go?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Jesse snorted. “Leave them be, Clem. If they’re dumb enough to think they’ll be free any time soon, then they can stay here and rot.” He pulled a pack of playing cards from his pocket and hunkered down to play a game with Clem and Al.

  Edwin gripped the cell bars. “You don’t know anything about rotting in a jail. We’ve spent the last few months in a place that makes this jail look like a palace. Go ahead and play your games. We’ll be just fine.”

  The brave comments sent pride soaring through Manfred. The boy’s true spirit shone through when it counted most. “That’s good, little brother. Keep your head on straight. Those boys are real trouble we don’t need.”

  Edwin nodded. “I know.” He returned to his dinner and grinned. “That jailer was right about one thing. Miss Maude is a great cook.” He stuffed a hunk of cornbread into his mouth.

  Manfred had to agree. He finished off his meal and set the tray by the door. The shadows through the high cell window indicated the sun would be setting soon. Where was that sheriff? He should have been back by now.

  A commotion in the outer office brought every man in the cells to their feet. Jesse hollered, “It’s Frank. G
et ready to ride.” The three prisoners across the way grabbed the bars of the cell. Jesse hollered, “Hey, Frank, we’re waiting.”

  The door swung open and Frank charged through, tossing a set of keys to Jesse. While Jesse unlocked the cell, Frank handed guns to Clem and Al. “Got the horses out back saddled and ready.” The men plucked their saddlebags from Frank’s shoulder.

  Jesse unlocked Manfred and Edwin’s cell. “Come on with us. They won’t get a posse together to come after us until we’re long gone.”

  Manfred sensed Edwin moving beside him. He reached out to grab hold of Edwin’s shirt. “No thanks, we’ll take our chances here.”

  Jesse’s evil laugh sent a tremor of fear through Manfred. The outlaw might not give him a choice, but then a sneer spread across Jesse’s face. “Have it your way.” He hurried after the others. In a few moments Manfred and Edwin heard the thunder of horses galloping away, then all became quiet.

  A moan broke the silence. Manfred turned toward the noise. “Sounds like the jailer. He must be hurt. I’m going to see.” He cautiously peered around the door and spotted the jailer on the floor by his desk. His gaze darted about the room as he tiptoed to the man and knelt beside him. Blood trickled from a large gash just above the man’s temple. Manfred turned him over as the injured man moaned again.

  His early training from his medical courses took over. A pitcher of water sat on the desk, so Manfred took the man’s kerchief and dampened it with the water. He wiped the blood away, careful not to move the man’s head, then poured a stream of water over the man.

  The deputy shook his head then winced in pain. He scrambled to sit up and grabbed for a shotgun.

  Manfred raised his hands and slowly stood. The outside door swung open, and the sheriff entered with another man and the other deputies. The lawman drew his gun. “What happened?”

  The deputy tried to stand but swayed and sat back down with his hand on his head. “Got hit from behind and blacked out. Next thing I knew this here fellow was pouring water on me.”