The voices of Papa and Grandpa chatting with Benjamin Elliot floated up the stairway as she descended. His profile came into view, and she had to admit he did look dashing in the dress officer’s uniform. His raven hair gleamed in the light of the brass candle chandelier in the foyer. His gaze lifted to meet hers as she approached.
His smile broadened, and he stood as though at attention before another officer. “Good evening, Mr. Elliot.” She extended her hand.
He grasped her hand lightly in his. “Miss Dyer, I shall be the envy of all men at this evening’s gala.” He placed her hand on his arm and cupped his hand over hers. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Woodruff. Mr. and Mrs. Dyer, I shall take great care of your daughter. And thank you for your consideration.”
A look passed between the two men that alarmed Sallie, and a knot formed in her throat. Had Benjamin already spoken with her father about courting her? Despite the fear rising in her heart, Sallie smiled at her escort. “I’m ready, Mr. Elliot.”
The sound of movement and rustling of fabric drew Sallie’s attention upward. Hannah sat near the top hugging the railing. She grinned and wiggled her fingers in good-bye. Sallie smothered a laugh and only nodded slightly in return. Hannah would want to hear all about the evening later, and Sallie vowed to bring back a glowing report.
Benjamin escorted her to his carriage, and they rode the few miles to his home chatting. Sallie answered his questions, but he said nothing of any real importance. Surely he knew more than the weather and church activities. She longed to know more about what went on outside the limits of St. Francisville, but bringing up other subjects may be construed as being unladylike.
As charming as Benjamin turned out to be, he lacked Manfred’s sense of humor. She bit her lip. Such thoughts must stop. Mr. Elliot deserved her full attention.
The carriage rolled onto the grounds of the Elliot home, where other vehicles of all sizes and types filled the drive of the Elliot’s plantation. They must have guests from as far as Baton Rouge if the number arriving were any indication. Excitement rose in Sallie’s spirit. She would enjoy this evening first and worry about Benjamin’s intentions later.
This home sat closer to Port Hudson and had sustained damage when the Union troops had traveled this road. Boarded-up windows on one side gave evidence of that attack. How long would it take to repair all the damage this war had wrought?
As if he read her thoughts, Benjamin whispered, “Mother’s done an excellent job of hiding the damage. The left part of the house still needs repair, but we have plenty of room.”
Sallie observed the windows stripped of draperies but decorated with urns of fresh flowers. Many of the home’s elegant furnishings had disappeared, but the luxury it once held could not be mistaken.
Mr. and Mrs. Elliot greeted her in the expansive entry hall. “My dear, you look lovely. So glad you were able to come.” Mrs. Elliot brushed her cheek against Sallie’s.
Sallie returned the greeting. “It’s a pleasure to be in your home. Thank you for inviting me.” She then allowed Benjamin to guide her to a table burdened down with delicacies of all types. Pastries and cakes lent color and delightful aroma next to a bowl of fruit punch.
Benjamin hastened to explain. “It’s not like the abundance we had before the war, but Mr. Brady did have staples.” He filled her plate with butter pound cake and a pecan tart.
“This is quite wonderful. I love pastries.” Sallie took the offered plate and glided over to a chair. Benjamin joined her. As they ate, she observed every detail of dress and decoration to relate to Hannah later. A group of musicians provided a background of music that lent a lively air to the occasion. Soon the area cleared, and the music became a waltz.
The evening passed in a flurry of dances with several other young men. Sallie relaxed and allowed herself to be caught up in the festivities. Young women outnumbered the men, but they tried to make sure all the ladies had ample opportunity on the dance floor.
Sallie glanced at her card and noticed Benjamin claimed the last two spots. Soon enough he was whirling her around the floor in time to the music. “You are quite agile on your feet, Mr. Elliot.”
“Thank you. It is only because of the lightness and beauty of my partner.” He smiled at her, and the look in his eyes sent shivers of delight through her heart. Her heart belonged to Manfred, but having another man interested delighted her. Still, she chided herself, such fickleness was most undesirable.
The memory of the look that had passed between Benjamin and Papa sent a chill through her bones. Benjamin likely had spoken to Papa about calling on her while he waited for her to come downstairs. Papa knew her feelings for Manfred, but he, like Grandpa, would think a young man actually here would be more suitable than one whose whereabouts were unknown. Having Benjamin for an escort would be an advantage sure to create envy, but it was also misleading and unfair to Benjamin to give him hope when her heart belonged to another.
Once again the war intruded into her life. If not for the war, she wouldn’t be in this dilemma. To deny that Benjamin’s attention charmed her would be a lie, but it also spoke of betrayal toward Manfred.
After the last round she and Benjamin bade his parents a good night. The warmth of the late April evening surrounded them as they climbed aboard the carriage for the ride back to her home.
Neither of them spoke on the short trip. Several times Benjamin seemed on the verge of saying something to her, but each time he cleared his throat instead. Finally he reined the horse and stopped in the Woodruff driveway.
He didn’t make any movement toward leaving the carriage but turned to her instead. “Miss Sallie, I took the liberty of asking your father permission to call on you next week, and he agreed to my request.”
Sallie swallowed hard, her heart lurching with regret. Papa had spoken, but Benjamin must be told the truth. Not telling him would be most rude and misleading. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
Benjamin frowned. “You’re not spoken for, are you?”
Sallie twisted her hands in her lap. Finally she raised her head and met his eyes with hers. “No. No one has spoken for me as yet, but you must know that I promised to wait for Manfred Whiteman.”
“I see.” Benjamin seemed to ponder this, a muscle twitching near his mouth. Then he asked, “When was the last time you heard from him?”
Sallie bowed her head. “I had a letter just before he was to leave for Nashville.”
Benjamin grasped her hands in his then dropped them when she flinched. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But Sallie, you’ve heard how fierce the battle at Nashville was. The Yankees whipped us, and any left alive were herded up to prison camps. From what I’ve heard of those camps . . . ” His voice trailed off.
“I’ve heard the stories too, yet I know Manfred will be home.” She peered at his face, hoping he understood her.
His lips formed a grim line. He stepped down from the carriage and came to her side. As he lifted her and set her on the ground, he said, “Miss Dyer, until Manfred is home and claims you for his own, I plan to call on you, as your father permitted me to do so.”
Sallie’s heart thundered in her chest. Papa’s wishes must be followed, and a part of her took pleasure in the idea of being courted by Benjamin. How could her heart be so divided?
Benjamin escorted her to the door, and Sallie paused before entering. “Thank you for this evening. I did have a grand time.” She extended her hand to his.
He grasped her hand lightly and brushed his lips across it. “Thank you for your company tonight.” He lifted his gaze and grinned. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Miss Sallie Dyer.”
Before she could think of a reply, he hurried back to the carriage, clicked the reins, and drove into the night.
Sallie leaned against the closed doorway, the brass handle cold against her arm. “Oh, Papa, what have you done? Why didn’t you talk with me first?” Tears burned in her eyes as she opened the door and lifted her crinoline to race u
p the stairs and into her room.
CHAPTER 17
* * *
Marion, Virginia, Sunday, April 30, 1865
THE NEXT MORNING Manfred joined Bart in the stables as he hitched a horse to his wagon. “We have two churches here in town. Both were damaged by fire but have been repaired and are back in use.”
“I’m not surprised. Mama wrote that our own church was damaged during the battle on the river by Port Hudson. I sure hope they repair it soon like they’re doing here.”
Bart led the wagon from the stable and up to the house, with Manfred and Edwin following with their horses. Amy met them in the yard. From his studies of medicine, her date for birthing was very close. She should probably stay home and not take the bumpy wagon ride to church, but then he wasn’t a doctor as yet, so he remained silent. One thing about her, with her rosy cheeks and bright eyes, she certainly looked to be in good health.
Five minutes later Bart drove the wagon into the churchyard. The white clapboard church with its steeple looked nothing like Grace Church in St. Francisville, but it held a charm and beauty of its own that beckoned people to come and worship.
Many members stopped to say hello as Manfred made his way into the church with Bart and Amy. Several spoke to Amy and inquired about her health. Inside, the simple beauty of the sanctuary carried an aura of peace and calm that filled Manfred’s heart with praise for the God who walked with them every day of their journey.
A small choir led the congregation in hymns, and Manfred joined in the singing with joy that filled up his soul and spilled over, leaving behind peace and contentment. The elderly minister stood at the podium and welcomed the young men who were visiting and passing through town.
Manfred gazed about the room and spotted a number of other young men in clothing that spoke of their involvement in the war. He stopped when he came to one young man whose empty left sleeve was folded and pinned up just above the elbow. Something about the man looked familiar, but Manfred couldn’t quite put his finger on where he might have seen the soldier before.
He’d seen so many men in the months he’d served, and he couldn’t remember them all. His attention turned back to the preacher and the message for the morning. The minister spoke of the hope they had in Jesus Christ, and how He’d protected them and provided for them in the past few years.
Manfred prayed for all those who’d lost loved ones in the four years of conflict on both sides. It didn’t matter whether the uniform had been dark blue or gray, men had defended their rights and stood for their country. He prayed the Confederate States would be reunited with her sister states so that all could be one nation once again.
The minister then mentioned the death of Lincoln and urged his congregants to pray for the new leader, Andrew Johnson. Manfred knew little about the man, but many from the South looked upon him as a traitor to his native land. Still, he was president of the United States, and that commanded respect, even as Manfred’s uncertainty of his own beliefs about the man surfaced.
The one thing needed for certain was a man who would lead to unite the states and not drive them apart even more than they already were. Only the grace of God and His great mercies could heal the hearts of men and bind them together again, and Manfred prayed that would be so.
At the end of the service Manfred searched for the young man without an arm, but he was not to be found. Manfred shrugged off the idea that he had known the young soldier somewhere and accepted Amy’s invitation to dinner.
“Only if it’s not trouble for you, ma’am.”
“Oh, it isn’t. I prepared most of it in advance, and Bart did the rest of the work this morning. It’ll be ready in just a few minutes.”
Manfred and Edwin followed the couple back to their home. After a meal of roasted chicken and potatoes, the two returned to the barn to rest for the afternoon.
“How many days do you think we can stay here and help?” Edwin bunched up a pile of hay and covered it with a blanket.
“I’m not sure. Maybe two, but we need to get back on the road. No telling how many more stops we might have to make like this one.” Despite his desire to get home, the vow he’d made to help people along the way was just as important. He hated to accept help from any man or woman he couldn’t repay in some way.
Tomorrow would be a busy day and one that most likely would need all their strength. Best to rest easy this afternoon and be ready to begin early in the morning.
St. Francisville, Louisiana
Sunday afternoons in the Woodruff household meant a quiet time of rest and reflection on the past week. Sallie sat at the window and noted the gray skies of the day that reflected her own dismal attitude. As much as she wanted to please her father, she didn’t desire to lead Benjamin Elliot into believing he may have a chance at winning her affections.
How could God do such things to her? He had left her alone to defend herself, and that ended in the death of another person. Now He had abandoned her and left her to cope with her father and Benjamin. He had answered none of her prayers for peace of mind and had given her no hope for Manfred’s return. Each day she drifted farther away from her trust and faith in her heavenly Father.
Even her church attendance had become one of social opportunity and not one of worship. She enjoyed seeing her cousin and Miriam Tenney, since they didn’t see much of each other during the week. This morning she had tuned out the sermon and service to concentrate on her problem of what she was going to do about her attraction to Benjamin. It couldn’t take the place of her love for Manfred.
Mama and Grandma would be mortified at her behavior and attitude toward God, and Papa would be sorely disappointed if she didn’t consent to see Benjamin. She had little use for God in her life right now, and Benjamin only complicated the affairs of her heart. Keeping up a front before her parents would be difficult, but she’d manage it.
A pebble hit the windowsill. She leaned over and found Will and Tom in the yard beckoning to her. What on earth did they want? Will nodded his head toward the side door and waved his hand. Usually her brothers had little to say except to tease, so this must be important.
She gathered up her skirts and tiptoed from the room so as not to disturb Hannah napping on the bed. Silence greeted her when she stepped into the hallway. The downstairs foyer and rooms sat empty and quiet. The only noise came from the pantry area where Flora and Lettie must be preparing for the usual light Sunday supper.
The side door to where her brothers waited was at the end of the dining room and opened onto the side portion of the house’s porch that wrapped around that side. With as little sound as possible, she eased open the door and out onto the porch.
Will greeted her with a finger to his lips. “Let’s go out to the barn. Don’t want our talking to disturb anyone.”
He led her out to the barn where Tom now sat on a bale of hay. Sallie stood with her hands on her hips. “What in the world is so important that you had to bring me out here?”
“We want to talk to you about what happened in Woodville a few weeks ago.” Will hitched his foot to prop it on the bale where Tom sat.
“What are you talking about?” They couldn’t mean her shooting at the soldiers. They weren’t even in the house when it happened, and her family had never discussed it.
“Come on, Sal, you know what I mean. I was there.”
Sallie’s heart lodged in her throat. Why did he have to spoil a beautiful Sunday afternoon with a reminder of that awful day? She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes at Will. “I don’t want to talk about it, and don’t call me Sal. Sounds like you’re talking to a mule.”
“Sometimes I think I am when you’re so stubborn.” He reached for her hand. “Look, I’ve seen the sadness in your eyes when you think no one is paying attention. I know it has to do with what happened. I thought maybe you might want to know what we did afterward.”
“Papa sent us here and then stayed behind to fight with you and the others. That’s all I need to know.” Th
en her curiosity took hold. “What did you do?”
“Papa and I went up to the house after you and Mama left in the carriage. That’s when we found the dead man. You dropped the gun, and it was lying on the floor not far from the body. Papa figured out what must have happened. Since Mama won’t handle a gun, we knew it had to be you who shot him. We carried the body out to the barn, but then so much started happening that we just left it there.”
Bile rose in Sallie’s throat. Will had helped carry a dead body out to their barn. How awful for him, and for that poor boy. “He . . . he . . . wasn’t much older than I am.” Tears misted her eyes. “What happened to him then?”
Will squeezed her hand. “I know.” He breathed in deeply before glancing at Tom then back to her. “Papa found him still in the barn when he went back up to check the damage to the house. The Yanks must not have known he was out there, or they would have taken him with them. Papa buried him out back.”
The tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, no. That’s so sad. Somewhere, somebody’s wondering where he is. His poor mama.”
A sob escaped her throat. What if that had been Manfred shot and buried in an unknown plot? God punished her yet again with this news.
Tom stood and wrapped his arms about her waist. “I’m sorry it happened too, Sallie, but he could just as well have shot you and then the rest of us as not.”
“But he wasn’t aiming to shoot. He had a loaf of bread, not a gun. I acted foolishly in haste when I should have asked him why he was there.”
“I was out in the barn hitching up the horses when I heard the first shot,” Tom said. “I came running just in time to see that other guy you shot in the arm. He had a gun. I saw it when he ran from the house, and he might have killed you if you hadn’t surprised him and shot first.”
Love Stays True Page 15
