Fire Over Atlanta

by Gilbert L. Morris

  “Cecil—”

  But the lieutenant wheeled and stalked off. The door slammed.

  She ran after him. As she came out onto the porch, he was mounting, and she called his name. “Cecil, please don’t go. Let me tell you—”

  But Cecil was gone. He slashed his horse with the reins, and the animal reared, then shot forward in a wild burst of speed.

  Leah watched as he disappeared, and her knees felt weak. She had never felt so miserable in all her life.

  Lucy knew at once that something was wrong. She had gone to the Taylor house, as she often did, on a visit with her mother. She had been disappointed not to find Cecil there, but later that afternoon she saw him riding in and went out to meet him.

  The lieutenant dismounted, handed the reins to a slave, and turned toward Lucy when she greeted him.

  “Why, Cecil, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “There is too. You look awful!” She put a hand on his arm. “Come over here and sit down.” She urged him into a secluded section of the yard formed by tall rose hedges. Then she sat down beside him. “What in the world is wrong with you? Your hands are trembling.”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  Lucy was baffled. She tried to think of some awful thing that Cecil might have done that had so shaken him. She took his hand and held it in hers and said, “I don’t care what you’ve done, Cecil. You can tell me. It won’t go any farther. Maybe I can help.”

  “Nobody can help.”

  Perhaps it was the sympathy in Lucy’s eyes and the touch of her hand on his that brought Cecil’s defenses down. At any rate, he finally poured out the whole story, ending by saying, “She told me she was just seeing me to make Jeff jealous.”

  Lucy was shocked at the bitterness in his voice. She suddenly realized that Cecil Taylor was the kindest boy she had ever known. He had never hurt anybody in his entire life. Anger shot through her as she realized what Leah Carter had done. Hot words leaped to her lips—but she knew that was not what Cecil needed to hear.

  “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Cecil,” she said softly. She stroked his hand, thinking of the times he had comforted her when she had been foolish—which had been rather often. “I remember the time that I made such a pest of myself when I had that crush on David Jamison. It was you who came and helped me to see how silly I was being. How old was I—fourteen? And he was almost twenty?”

  “I remember,” he said.

  “There were other times too. You’ve always been there when I needed you, and I wish now you’d let me be a friend to you.”

  Cecil looked down. “I even talked to Jeff. I asked him if he cared for her.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said that they’d been friends all their lives, but if I wanted to go calling on her that it was all right with him.”

  “He had to say that, don’t you see? I think Jeff truly cares for her, and Leah does care for him. She’s been a foolish girl, but then so have I been—many times.”

  Lucy talked gently for a long while, and slowly he seemed to relax. “I’d hate to see you become bitter over this, Cecil. Leah isn’t a bad girl. She’s just been foolish.”

  He slowly nodded. “I guess you’re right.” He forced a grin and said, “I’m glad you were here to pick up the pieces. I don’t guess I would have shot myself or anything, but I was feeling pretty low.”

  Lucy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on, let’s go into the kitchen. Suzy made some chocolate cookies. You always liked chocolate cookies better than anything.”

  “All right.”

  Lucy led him away, thinking, What a stupid girl Leah Carter is. I’d thought better of her. Then she again remembered some of her own escapades and quickly added, But I guess all of us make foolish mistakes. We just have to learn to deal with them.

  14

  A Dress for Charlie

  Rosie wandered along the streets of Atlanta, rather depressed by the sight. Most of the businesses were boarded up. Many had been destroyed by the shelling of Federal cannon. The citizens who passed him were poorly dressed and had a look of defeat written on their features. Many of them looked angrily at his blue Union uniform, and Rosie muttered, “I can’t say I blame them much. If the Rebels had bombed out Pineville like we done with this place, I guess I’d be pretty mad myself.”

  For a time he roamed aimlessly along side streets, and then he came to a plate glass window that had miraculously remained intact. It was a dressmaker’s shop, and the dress in the window caught his eye. It was a shade of peach, almost pink but not quite, and it made a vivid flash of color against the drabness of the grim buildings.

  As Rosie looked at the dress, an idea began to form in his mind. He was not an impulsive young man, so he stood there until the whole thing was as clear as if he were seeing it in a photograph.

  “By george, I’ll do it!” he spoke aloud.

  An old man hobbling along with a sack over his shoulder turned to give him a startled look.

  Smiling, Rosie entered the shop. The showroom was no more than ten feet square. Two more dressmaking dummies stood inside, both adorned with rather plain dresses.

  Across the door at the back of the shop hung a pair of dark green curtains. These parted, and a tall, gray-haired woman stepped into the main room. She looked at Rosie curiously, then said, “Yes, sir. May I help you?”

  “Well, I’m interested in that dress in the window.”

  “Oh, yes. It’s very pretty, isn’t it?” The woman went to the window and lifted out the model. Setting it down, she said, “It’s pure silk. The last bolt that got here before the siege. I had just enough to make this one dress.”

  “Sure is pretty. Kind of a peach color.”

  “You have someone you’re thinking of buying it for?”

  “Uh, yes, ma’am. I reckon I do. The trouble is, I don’t know much about sizes.”

  “How large is the young woman?”

  “Well … I guess about this tall.”

  “Is she thin?”

  “No, ma’am. Not a bit of it!” Rosie protested.

  “Well, without being offensive, is she … shall we say, heavy?”

  Rosie shook his head. “Why, no, ma’am, she’s just a good size.”

  The woman looked somewhat frustrated. “How old is she?”

  “About eighteen years old.”

  “Sir, if you could get one of her other dresses, I might see if this dress would do for her.”

  Rosie grinned ruefully. “I don’t reckon I could do that, ma’am. She’s only got one dress. Don’t think I could manage to get that one away from her.”

  “I should suppose not.” She turned to the model. “This dress was made for a rather tall girl. She ordered it, and then her family left Atlanta. If you’d bring the young lady in, I’d be glad to fit it for her.”

  “Would you now? That’d be right kind of you, ma’am, but I’m not sure I can get her to come in. She don’t take much to dresses.”

  The dressmaker stared at him. “Doesn’t take to dresses?”

  “No, ma’am. She wears mostly overalls.”

  “Overalls. I see.”

  Rosie felt the situation was getting out of hand. He said, “Uh … how much do you want for the dress, ma’am?”

  “Confederate money or Federal money?”

  Rosie had just been paid two days earlier and had several months’ pay in his pocket. “U.S. notes, ma’am.”

  Relief came to the woman’s eyes. She named a price.

  Rosie said, “That sounds fair enough. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you let me take it with me, and then, if it don’t fit, maybe you’d let her bring it back and you could take it in or let it out? Whatever it might need.”

  “I’ll be happy to do that. Here, let me wrap it up for you.”

  Ten minutes later, Rosie was on the street, walking along with a brown package under his arm. His lips were moving as he spoke to himself. “I don’t
rightly see how I can handle this all by myself. I guess I better go get Miss Lori to help me with it.”

  “It’s a beautiful dress, Rosie,” Lori said. She held it up against herself and looked down. “I don’t know as I ever saw a prettier one.”

  “Do you think she’ll like it?” Rosie shifted from one foot to another. His idea had seemed sound enough before he bought the dress, but now it seemed rather foolish.

  “If she doesn’t, she’d be an unusual girl.”

  “Charlie is unusual, as you know, Miss Lori. She don’t go in for fine dresses and things like that.”

  “No, she doesn’t. What made you think of buying her a dress?”

  “Well, this is the first of October. Next Friday there’s going to be a ball. The officers got it up for the enlisted men. So I thought that maybe if Charlie would put this dress on and kind of pretty herself up, why, she might catch Drake’s attention.”

  Lori suddenly lowered the dress. Concern came into her eyes. “I heard about the fight you had with Drake.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. But you know Drake’s done hit the glory trail.”

  Lori’s lips turned up into a smile. “Yes, I’ve heard that too. Royal told me he’s had a real change of heart.”

  “He sure has, ma’am. I’ve known Drake since he was just a shaver, and—I hate to say it—but he was pretty much of a buster. Always lookin’ out for himself. When he told me he had gotten himself converted, I almost couldn’t believe it. But he’s been real different. He told me he’s apologized to Charlie.”

  “Yes, he did. She told me about it. It helped her feelings a lot.”

  “But she ain’t never going to catch him if she doesn’t get out of them overalls and put on something pretty and frilly and … well, like this. So I thought if she’d put it on, and you’d help her a little bit, and she went to that ball, and Drake saw her … don’t you think that’d help her get him?”

  Lori said suddenly, “Don’t you ever think of yourself, Rosie?”

  He stared at her with astonishment. “Why would I want to be thinkin’ about myself?”

  “I mean, you’re very fond of Charlie yourself.”

  Rosie felt himself blush. “I’ve always thought Charlie was a fine young lady.”

  “Have you told her so?”

  “Uh … yes!”

  “Have you really?” Lori persisted. “I mean, have you ever really told her that you admire her—and think that she’s a fine young lady?”

  “Well, I told her I liked the way she hunted possums.”

  “Rosie, how impossible you are!”

  “Anyway, she’s got her head and her heart set on Drake.”

  “I’d not be too sure about that.”

  “I know her, and I’ve talked to her a lot. Anyway, will you help her get ready for the ball?”

  “Of course I will, but you and I will do it together. I want her to know what you’re doing for her.”

  “I guess that’ll be all right. Don’t see no harm in

  it.”

  “Let me go get her. She’s out back.”

  Rosie stood nervously in the sitting room and once almost turned and fled. “She doesn’t need me to help with this, Miss Lori don’t,” he muttered. And then he wheeled about and faced the two women as they entered the room.

  “Now,” Lori said, “tell Charlie what you’ve come up with.”

  “It’s not much,” Rosie said. “But … uh … I saw this dress in the window, and I thought since there’s a party comin’ up—a sort of ball—that you might put it on and go. And I come to get Miss Lori to help you pretty up and fix your hair and things.”

  Charlie stared at Rosie in astonishment. When he finished his stumbling explanation, she asked quietly, “Why did you do this, Rosie?”

  “I … well, I know how set you are on catchin’ Drake, and I bet you if he sees you in this pretty dress, he’ll just plain come over to your way of thinkin’.”

  Charlie looked over at Lori, who was smiling at her, and her own lips began turning up at the corners. She said, “You’re a sweet boy, Rosie.” She pulled his head down and gave him a resounding kiss. “It’s about the nicest thing anybody ever done for me in my whole life!”

  Rosie whirled toward the door. “Shoot, it wasn’t all that much.” He looked back, saying, “I’ll be sure Drake’s at that ball. You get that dress on now and make sure it fits.” And then he was gone.

  Lori watched Charlie pick up the dress, feel its silky texture, and hold it against her cheek.

  “I can’t do it, Lori,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just not right. I see that now. I been wrong the way I been going after Drake.”

  Lori said at once. “Yes, you have been. But you’re going to that ball, and you’re going to let Drake see what he’s been missing. And every other young man at that party will see a beautiful young lady.”

  Rosie said nothing to Drake until the night before the ball. They were sitting in front of their tent watching the stars spangle the sky like bright pinpoints of light against a velvety black cloth.

  “Them stars sure is pretty,” Rosie said. “It seems to settle my stomach down just to look at ’em. Better than Dr. Smith’s Antiseptic for Heartburn.”

  Drake grinned at his friend. “Yes, it’s nice out here.”

  And then Rosie said, “Do me a favor, Drake.”

  “Anything you ask, Rosie.”

  “You know that ball the regiment’s havin’?”

  “Sure, it’s tomorrow night.”

  “Well, I want you to go along with me. There’s a little gal I got my eye on, and I want you to kind of help me. You can go over and meet her, and then you can introduce me and then sort of fade out.”

  Drake laughed. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “Oh, I’m not good at things like that. But it’ll be easy for you.” Rosie felt somewhat deceitful about tricking Drake. “Will you do it, partner?”

  “I’ll be glad to. We’ll have to dress up. Put on our finest duds. I’d like to see this girl you’re so interested in. Never knew you to take out after girls much.”

  “This one’s kind of special. I’ll bet you’ll have a good time too. Bring your fiddle along, and you can join the other musicians.”

  Drake said, “Might could.”

  Rosie studied Drake’s face secretly and then said, “You sure are different. I never saw a man make such a turnaround.”

  “I guess I needed a turnaround more than most,” Drake remarked quietly. “I been a pretty sorry excuse for a man.”

  “I was real proud to see you get baptized. I think every man in the regiment was there.”

  Drake laughed. “I guess they were. They couldn’t believe that Drake Bedford was interested in God. I feel good about it, Rosie. First time in my life I feel all right. I made a lot of mistakes along the way, but I’m trustin’ Him now. Ever since I called on the Lord Jesus out there in those woods, I’ve had peace inside.”

  At bedtime, Rosie said, “All right, don’t forget. You got to go to that girl and introduce me to her.”

  “Sure. And we’ll fix you up till you look like a major general. We’ll get some French perfume and put on you so she can’t resist you.”

  “That’s the ticket.” Rosie grinned.

  Rosie lay in the darkness thinking, Hate to set old Drake up like this. He thought of Charlie then. But the thoughts he framed he would not speak aloud.

  15

  The Prettiest Girl at the Ball

  The last rays of the afternoon sun pierced the windows of the Holcomb house, illuminating the dress of the girl standing in the middle of the room. The dress was a light peach color, almost pink, and made of the finest silk. The neckline was low, round, and off the shoulder, edged with delicate white lace. The tight-fitting bodice had a series of white silk ribbon bows, decreasing in size down to the waist. The oval-shaped skirt was full and plain, except at the bottom, where two rows of the same soft w
hite lace encircled the base of the dress.

  “Oh, Lori, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  Lori, kneeling, took a final stitch in the hem. Then she stood and stepped back to admire her handiwork. The dress had fit almost perfectly, but she had made some slight improvements. This afternoon she had styled Charlie’s hair so that the girl looked completely different. Instead of falling in wild curls, now it was piled high on her head into a large chignon, loosely braided and held in place by a pair of ivory combs. A few brown curls had escaped the combs and formed a soft frame around her face.

  “You look absolutely ravishing!”

  Charlie stirred uneasily. “I feel foolish!” she blurted out. She turned to look at herself in the mirror and stopped dead still. “I do look different,” she muttered.

  “You surely do. You look like a young lady going to a ball.”

  “I don’t want to go to that old party,” Charlie said abruptly. “I don’t know how to act.”

  “You don’t have to ‘act’ as good as you look. Just stand there in the ballroom and smile. All those young fellows will fall over themselves to come to you.”

  “But they’ll want me to dance, and I don’t know how!” Charlie wailed.

  “Just tell them that you don’t feel like dancing but you’ll sit with them or walk around the ballroom with them. They’ll be happy, believe me, for any attention you give them.”

  At that moment a knock sounded on the door.

  “There. That’ll be Royal coming for us. He’s going to see that you get there and that you get home safely.”

  Lori ran to the door, opened it, and Royal grinned at her. “Is Cinderella ready?”

  “I think she is. Come and look at her.”

  Royal put his arms around Lori and gave her a resounding kiss. “You’ll be the prettiest girl at the ball,” he whispered.

  “No, I won’t either. Look at Charlie.”

  She hauled Royal into the sitting room, and when he saw Charlie in her beautiful dress, his eyes flew open. “Well, I wish to my never,” he said. “Miss Charlene, you are a dream.”