by Becky Lower
Saffron bit her lip. And wondered if her lips and Zeke’s would ever meet again. It was obvious they wouldn’t if Halwyn had anything to say about it. She ran her finger over her lips, which were still tender from Zeke’s many kisses during the day.
“I do want to continue seeing this man, Halwyn. So, if splitting us up at work will make you better able to handle the situation, go right ahead. We will prove you wrong.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next few weeks flew by as February turned into March. Even though Halwyn had made good on his promise to move Zeke out of Saffron’s office, they still managed to see each other. In fact, the stealthy behavior they had to undertake in order to casually meet in the filing room, or as they had today, find themselves on the same park bench at lunch, only added to the excitement of spending time with Zeke.
Halwyn did allow them to go out together in the evenings, properly escorted, of course. So it was the best of both worlds. And they’d soon be working in a field tent instead of an office, once the ground got soft enough to dig. They’d be in Chancellorsville starting next month. The battle they both cared most about. And Zeke could finally lay his brothers to rest.
“I wonder what’s taking Halwyn so long to process your paperwork to rejoin the army,” Saffron brushed her hand down Zeke’s sleeve, supposedly to rid him of crumbs from their shared lunch of chicken salad sandwiches brought from her home and his addition of molasses cookies he had purchased at the boarding house. But in reality, she used it as an excuse to touch him. Every time she did, it sent a little shiver through her body. She longed for that giddy, tingly sensation for the rest of her life. She had hoped by now to be able to tell everyone in her family, and in the program, that she and Zeke were engaged. The expression on Suzanne Miller’s face when she heard the news was something Saffron was eager to see. Instead, they had to maintain a casual relationship until Zeke’s reenlistment happened.
“I’m sure he has his hands full with other things and my reenlistment is at the bottom on his list of priorities.”
“I guess it really doesn’t matter, since declaring your intent was enough for Halwyn to approve of us seeing each other. Even if it did mean moving you out of my office and replacing you with Suzanne Miller. I swear, if you so much as say hello to her, she’s got to discuss it for hours.”
“I try to be friendly, but you are well aware I don’t really notice anyone other than you. I’d certainly never make plans to have lunch with Suzanne.” Zeke brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek as his gaze made her smolder. She longed for another kiss from him, but out in the open, as they were now, it would be totally inappropriate. And even if she didn’t give a fig about propriety, she couldn’t bring herself to relinquish all manner of decorum. She’d have to be content to hold his hand, to hide the small embrace under her billowing skirt.
Zeke threw a bit of the crust from his sandwich to the pigeons that squawked and bit each other in their quest for the best pieces. “I’m glad the birds don’t care if the bread is slightly burnt.”
He stole a glance at Saffron as he squeezed her hand.
“I guess we should be getting back. We both have a lot of work to get done.”
“Yes, but I’ll be stuck in the filing room all afternoon, getting the first of the Chancellorsville files packed up.”
“And I’ll be there to help label the boxes and to lift them once you’ve got them packed. Maybe the afternoon’s work won’t seem such a drudge, since we’ll be together. Despite Halwyn’s best efforts.”
Saffron’s heartbeat sped up. Perhaps they could manage to be alone for a few minutes as they worked. Her lips began to tingle at the idea of being able to give in to her urge to kiss him.
They returned to the office at the precise moment Halwyn emerged from the building. He glared at the pair.
“What are you two up to?”
Saffron squared her shoulders. “Nothing at all, so you can relax. We had lunch together and sat by the reflecting pool. That’s all.”
“You are not supposed to be unchaperoned. You’re in violation of our arrangement, Saffron.”
She shook her head, her curls bouncing. “For pity’s sake, it’s the middle of the day. We were in a public place. And we’re two co-workers who were enjoying a bit of sun and fresh air. Where’s the harm in that?”
“Harmful or not. You blatantly disregarded what we agreed to.”
Tears threatened and Saffron blinked them away. “I’m not a child, Halwyn.”
“Well, then, quit acting like one.”
Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment, despite the cool temperature.
Halwyn glared at Zeke. “I figured you at least would abide by our arrangement.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Halwyn pulled his hat onto his head and strode off, his jerky movement an outward display of his anger. Saffron and Zeke followed him with their eyes.
“That went well.” Saffron smiled, but the smile wobbled.
“He’ll probably not let me within one hundred feet of you now.”
“Well, then. It’ll give us something to discuss while we work in the filing room this afternoon. Perhaps we’ll both need something from the closet at the same time …”
Zeke ran a hand through his shock of wheat-colored hair, which was blowing in the breeze. “Your brother hates me enough already, Saffron. If he were to catch us in the closet together, I’d be fired.”
Saffron touched his arm and giggled. “We’ll just have to make certain he doesn’t see us, then.”
“You do enjoy living dangerously, don’t you?”
“It’s part of my charm. Part of what attracted you in the first place. If I hadn’t invited danger into my life, I would never have transported you out of town.”
Zeke bumped against her shoulder. “Well said. I suppose there might be a reason for us to be in the closet at the same time, then.”
“Count on it.”
• • •
Zeke didn’t express his uneasiness to Saffron, but Halwyn worried him. He needed to face up to the man, but each time they came into contact, Zeke fidgeted in his seat like an errant schoolboy in front of a teacher with a ruler in hand, and his mouth went dry, making it hard to speak in any kind of forceful tone. Especially since every time, it seemed, he was caught spending illicit, unchaperoned time with Saffron. He could almost see the angry smoke rising off Halwyn as he strode away that afternoon.
Zeke had asked once about the delay in his reenlistment, which was the key to formally announcing his engagement with Saffron, and Halwyn said he’d been working on it, but he had a lot of other things to worry about. And evidently Zeke had been positioned at the bottom of the barrel in Halwyn’s list of worries. It didn’t help move him up the list when he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. But Zeke would not have relinquished any stolen moments with Saffron, Halwyn or no.
Zeke anticipated the fieldwork coming up. Not only would they be out from under Halwyn’s watchful eye, since he would stay behind in the program’s headquarters while Saffron and Zeke did the grunt work of uncovering the bodies, but Zeke would finally be able to fulfill the promise he’d made to his father and bring his brother’s bodies home to rest. Not to the farm anymore, but to a proper military cemetery on Yankee soil. Yes, stolen kisses with Saffron and completing his obligation to his father would make for pleasant memories of Chancellorsville, replacing the ones he had been carrying around for years.
The last of the wooden file boxes had been loaded onto the wagon, and Zeke climbed aboard with his duffel of clothing. They’d be in the field for weeks, so each person was able to bring one suitcase or duffel bag. Food provisions had also been assembled and sent out on another wagon. Several more wagons of boxes and people created a caravan as they headed out of DC and away from civilization. As the miles clicked by and they got closer to the field where the battle had reigned for a bloody w
eek, Zeke’s resolve waned. Could he do this? Or would he once more run from the battle and the horrors he’d witnessed? Were stolen kisses worth it? Zeke inhaled deeply as they rounded the final turn toward their destination into what was called the Wilderness.
His stomach jumped, much as it had during the week where he’d lost one brother after another. He lurched from the wagon as soon as it came to a stop, leaned over, and vomited his breakfast. Everywhere his gaze landed, a flashback of the weary days of fighting came back to him. He could smell the smoke in the air from the cannons and rifles, and his eyesight fogged with it. The metallic odor of blood once again assailed his brain. He had a sense of vertigo, and had to hold onto the carriage wheel for support.
A hand slapped him on his back, and he glanced up from the ground into the kind eyes of Jacob, an older man who was a part of the program.
“It hits me in the same way every time I go to one of these battlefields, son.”
“This one holds a ton of memories for me, Jake.”
“They all hold memories for those who survived. I hope all these battlefields can be made into parks one day, so people can enjoy them in the future while they honor the past.”
Zeke straightened up. “Making something enjoyable would be nice. It might help erase all the bad memories.” He glanced around the area. It would make for a beautiful park if he could ever shut down the scenes of destruction running through his head.
He threw back a swig of water to wash out his mouth before helping to take the canvas and spikes from the wagon. No sense unloading the file boxes until they had the tent erected. Saffron arrived with the second wagon and came over to him, her blonde ringlets reflecting the strong sunlight.
“You are way too pale. Are you sure you can handle being back here?”
He bristled. It was one thing to spill his guts in front of Jake, but quite another to show any weakness in front of his girl.
“I’m fine. And as soon as I get my brothers out of here, I’ll be a whole lot better.”
She brushed one more speculative glance over him before turning away.
“Well, if you’re so fine, you can haul all these boxes to the tent. I was going to offer to help, but I’ve changed my mind.”
She strode off in a huff, leaving Zeke standing in the middle of the field with the March sun shining down on him. He shook his head. Maybe he wouldn’t be getting any stolen kisses anytime soon. So all he’d be left with would be the bad memories. His stomach pitched again, but he had nothing left.
Leaving the full wagon behind, he strode to the section of the field where he’d buried his brothers. Grass had grown back over the turned dirt, but it didn’t matter. Their gravesites had been forever etched into his mind. He knelt before them, pulling up a few weeds as he did so.
“I’m going to see to it you all get a proper burial, with full military honors. It’s the least I can do. Daddy was so proud of all of you. Until the day he died, he’d tell anyone who would listen how he had four sons fall at Chancellorsville. He was almost proud of it. But he didn’t have the first-hand knowledge of the horror of battle, which we were all far too familiar with. What happened here wasn’t anything to be proud of.”
A few tears fell onto the grass as he knelt in the field. His mind roared with the sounds of battle. The boom of the cannons, the rat-a-tat of the guns, the screams of men who fell around him, the smell of the rotting corpses of both men and horses. He could barely breathe as he recollected how the air had been so thick with smoke from the gunfire he couldn’t see if he was aiming at friend or foe. How he and the other men had needed to fight their way to the battlefield through the thick second-growth of saplings, the clingy vines that reached out and wrapped around their legs, and short, sharp shrubs that pricked their flesh. He had been worn out before ever opening fire.
His eyes smarted as he relived his last day on the battleground. The Union had been trounced, and his choices were to stay with the others who were still alive and be taken prisoner, where he’d surely die a slow death, or run away. So he ran, away from the sound of cannons, away from the smoke that made his eyes water, away from the horror he’d witnessed. If that made him a coward, so be it. He should never have been on the battlefield, this one or any other, anyway.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Zeke couldn’t bring himself to leave the area where his brothers were buried, even though he should have been working, unloading the wagons and erecting tents. His mind replayed each day he’d spent on these fields three years earlier, and he couldn’t stop the images rolling through his mind. How his youthful body had struggled to keep up with his brothers as they’d fought through the underbrush and rushed into the fray of battle. He was stronger today, and unencumbered by a rifle and a heavy uniform, but he still had trouble carving a path through the thick shrubs and vines. He kept leaving the graves to immerse himself in the area where the heaviest fighting had taken place, and then coming back.
Saffron tracked him down after a few hours.
“Here, I’ve brought you something to eat.” She handed him a sandwich, which he barely glanced at. His stomach was still pitching, and the only reason he wasn’t vomiting again was he had nothing left. He sat on the ground, the food in his lap, Saffron next to him.
“Is it much the same as it has been in your mind these last years?”
Zeke tore his eyes away from the horizon and gazed at her. The sunlight bounced off her hair, creating an almost halo effect around her head. An angel on the battlefield. He appreciated how her presence gave him peace and that she didn’t press him.
“I’m certain someday the battle will be taken apart and discussed at length to find out what went wrong and how the North could have been trounced so badly. But all I can recall is the mass confusion. We were all so tired from marching and from fighting our way through what the troops called the Wilderness. If the vines didn’t trip us up, the saplings would snap back from the man in front and hit us in our faces.”
Saffron nodded and shivered as she studied the wild undergrowth. Zeke’s gaze went from her face to the short trees she was studying.
“They’ve grown a bit in the past couple of years. When I was here last, they were barely up to my shoulders. Not much cover there.”
“And the battle went on for days. I can’t begin to understand how devastating it was for you.”
Zeke nodded toward the graves of his brothers. “When Adam was killed, in the first day’s action, the starch seemed to go out of the rest of us. Not only my brothers, but our whole regiment, too. Adam was a leader, and if he couldn’t keep from getting mortally wounded, how could any of us possibly survive?”
“Especially since you were exhausted.”
Zeke rose, finally, and offered his hand to Saffron. Together, they walked toward a small stream that cut across the battlefield. It created an almost bucolic setting, gurgling as it rolled over pebbles, the water clear as crystal.
“This stream ran red with blood for days. I’ll never forget the horrible smell of sulfur or all that blood. I still can see the smoke from all the cannons and gunfire hanging in the air. We got the news of Stonewall Jackson being shot by his own men and laughed about it. But the smoke, along with the inky blackness of the night, made it possible for mistaken identity to happen to any of us.”
Saffron wrapped her arm around him as they continued to walk. Her gaze darted from the stream to the forest and back again.
“It is lovely now, though, don’t you agree? I’m not saying we should ever forget what happened here, but maybe someday, this could become a peaceful place where people could reflect on the past while enjoying the present.” She turned her gaze from the fields to him. “And plan for the future.”
Zeke stared at her for a moment, then glanced at the fields. In his mind, the chaos of battle still played out. He would never be able to bring a child here for a picnic. But he understood what Saffron meant. It would be nice to replace his bad memories with good ones. And to plan for
their future together. Maybe this trip would be the beginning. The beginning of healing the gaping wound of not having his brothers anymore. Of creating a new life with Saffron by his side. Of living again. It’s what his brothers would have hoped for, and now, he began to hope for it as well. The afternoon they spent together on the battlefield helped a bit, but Zeke would always carry the horrific images in his head of what happened the last time he was here. And, even as compelling as Saffron was, he kept returning to the part of the battlefield where his brothers were buried. He knelt at their graves and spread his hands over the four mounds of dirt, crying for his loss.
“Stand up, son.”
Zeke raised his eyes from the ground and stared into the faces of two provost guards who stood on either side of him.
“What is it?” He rose and brushed off his trousers.
“We have orders to arrest you and bring you back to DC for a court-martial. You’re a deserter from the army, according to your records.”
“No, I’m not.” Zeke glanced around the battlefield, searching for help. But he and the provost guards were alone. He was alone. Just as he had been since his brothers died on the battlefield. He’d been taking a risk since the day he walked into the Reburial Program offices, and was aware this might be the outcome if anyone started to dig into his background. But he’d also thought Saffron was worth it. He’d had six glorious months to get acquainted with the woman she’d become. He guessed that was all he could have hoped for. He didn’t fight the guards as they tied his hands behind his back and hauled him back to DC.
• • •
Something had happened to Zeke the moment he set foot on Chancellorsville soil. Saffron could tell from his slumped shoulders the battle had come roaring back to life in his mind. His skin had lost its color, the rosy glow leaving his cheeks. And his mouth, his gorgeous mouth, was pulled downward into a grimace. She had been aware returning to the site of his particular memories would be hard on him, but hadn’t expected such a violent and visceral reaction. And not so early on. She fought the urge to take him into her arms and kiss away his hurt, because placating him was not the answer. He wasn’t some child who had scraped his knee and could be healed with a kiss. He had to sort things out on his own.
