Memphis

by Sara Orwig

  Finally the musical interlude was over and the dancing began again. Mrs. Stanton appeared, dropping her hand on Will’s shoulder. “We’re taking this soldier home before he wears himself out. Sophia, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Stanton. I’m glad to be here.”

  “Can you believe the amount of money we’ve raised tonight? Two thousand dollars for shoes for our boys. And Major O’Brien, we have to thank you for your generous contribution.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Glad to do it. Sophia,” he said, shifting his gaze to hers, “if I can tear you away from the dancing, I think we’ll go home. My leg aches.”

  “Sophia,” Mrs. Stanton said, tapping Sophia on the arm, “take this man home, and you insist he stay off his injured leg. These boys never know what is good for them.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, aware Major O’Brien linked her arm through his. They moved through the crowd toward the front door.

  “Why does she give you instructions to take me home with you when she knows you’re unchaperoned and she wouldn’t under any circumstances do the same with her daughter?” he asked, and Sophia felt a ripple of surprise at the brusqueness of his voice.

  “Because they all know no man has ever shown any interest in me and I have never shown any interest in a man. I think they long ago decided I was a spinster.”

  “A spinster! Hell, you’re only seventeen! And you’ve danced all evening!”

  “Lower your voice,” she retorted, blushing and glancing around, grateful that no one seemed to have heard him.

  “If I went home alone with most of the females in this room it would start a rumor the moment we walked out the door,” he said gruffly. She turned to face him.

  “But the matrons and the ladies and my friends all know that I’m a spinster and I’ll observe decorum. And they know a man as experienced and appealing as you will not be tempted by someone like me. We are not well suited, Major.”

  He drew a deep breath and his green eyes seemed to drive her back. She raised her chin, feeling caught in another silent contest with him.

  “The whole town and Mrs. Stanton in particular shouldn’t hand you over to me as if—” He snapped his mouth closed.

  “But you see, they know. As if I couldn’t possibly be compromised.”

  He leaned closer, his hand on her forearm. “But suppose you are? You know I’m no gentleman.”

  She felt closed in, buffeted by his anger, unable to fully understand why he was aggravated. “I won’t be. Neither of us wants that,” she said and hoped she sounded calm and cool and as self-possessed as he always was.

  “I can’t stand here arguing. My leg hurts,” he said, taking her arm again and continuing to the door.

  They thanked the Needhams, Sophia pausing as Major Tischler came up to tell her goodbye, glancing at Major O’Brien as he talked. Finally they were in the buggy, and she took the reins to drive.

  “I’ll do this. You look as if you’ve pushed yourself enough.”

  He reached over and took them back, holding them in his left hand. “I can manage and now that I’m sitting down, I’m fine. If I didn’t know better, I would think you had been going to dances for years. You danced constantly.”

  “It was delightful. Thank you for teaching me how to dance. I really had a good time and I met the nicest men.”

  “Did you now?”

  She glanced at him, noticing a sharp note in his voice.

  “Yes. Lieutenant Oakley, whom you met from East Tennessee, and Private Gates. And Major Tischler. He asked if he could come calling tomorrow, so we may have a guest. You enjoyed yourself, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, I did. Except I intended to dance with you again and we didn’t get to.”

  “You did your duty teaching me to dance and it was marvelous. I know Papa wouldn’t have approved, yet I don’t see any harm in what I did tonight and it raised all that money for shoes. I suppose he might even have approved if he knew it went to help the Confederacy.” She hugged her knees and hummed the tune to one of the waltzes while Major O’Brien rode in silence. They pulled into the carriage house and he climbed down, offering a hand to her. She jumped down.

  “I’ll unhitch the horses, Major, so you don’t have to stand on your leg. I don’t want to wake Henry.”

  “I can help,” he said tersely, and she wondered what had happened to his good humor.

  Caleb moved to catch the harness, frustrated that he could use only his left hand. His leg throbbed, his shoulder hurt, and he felt a tight knot inside. And he knew why he felt it. He hadn’t liked watching Sophia dance with the other officers. And it was the first time in his life he had ever experienced jealousy. He didn’t like admitting it to himself, but he knew what he felt.

  She was a baby. A seventeen-year-old child. And she was prim and proper and not the type of woman with whom he wanted to be involved. All the town trusted her to care for a man and keep him in her house unchaperoned. They knew she was too prudish to become involved; they thought she was too plain to attract a man. But she wasn’t plain. Sophia was a beautiful woman. But oh, so proper. If a man kissed her three times, he would be on the way to the altar. She was innocent, unprotected, and he wouldn’t be the one to take advantage of her. She had opened her house to him, nursed him, and he would be the lowest sort of scoundrel to court her. Women like Sophia Merrick lost their hearts too easily and she didn’t have any womenfolk to explain men and life to her and she didn’t have any men to protect her.

  She reached up, standing on tiptoe to remove the harness and he wanted to catch her around her tiny waist and yank her to him and kiss her. But he wouldn’t. She was too young and too innocent. It wasn’t right. She took to dancing like a bird to flying, spinning around the dance floor with soldier after soldier. He ground his teeth together. I don’t give a damn who she danced with tonight! Let her dance with every man in Memphis.

  “My leg hurts,” he said, knowing it wasn’t his leg that was bothering him.

  “As soon as the horses are taken care of, I’ll help you inside. Until then, sit down, Major.”

  He helped with the horses, and finally they closed the door and stepped outside and she slid her arm around his waist.

  He drew his breath sharply. “I can make it,” he said tightly, afraid if he put his arm around her, he wouldn’t stop there, but would pull her against him to kiss her.

  Inside the house he paused in the hall where a lamp burned.

  “Major O’Brien,” she said, her eyes shining as she gazed up at him with a smile, her dimples looking adorable, “tonight was marvelous fun. I’m so glad you talked me into going and thank you for the lovely necklace.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you went.” He jammed his fists into his pockets to avoid reaching for her.

  “Whenever I dance, I’ll remember you and this night.”

  “I doubt that, Miss Merrick.”

  “Of course, I will. It was wonderful.” She turned away, spinning around with her arms held out, her skirts swirling out away from her as she went to her bedroom. He watched her and as she closed her door, she looked at him, her brows arching.

  “Do you need help?”

  “No,” he answered gruffly.

  “Good night, Major,” she said and closed her door. He wanted to hit something. He would pack and go to New Orleans and to hell with Dr. Perkins. He needed to get back where he knew other women, where he could kiss Desirée and forget Sophia Merrick. He realized he was standing in the center of his darkened room, staring at the rocker and remembering the nights when he had stirred and looked up to find her sleeping in the chair. He yanked off his collar and shirt. Tomorrow men would call on her. Caleb paused, his belt unbuckled and pulled partially free. If soldiers came to call, she wouldn’t have anyone here except Henry and Mazie.

  A man could easily take advantage of her, and some soldier would when he learned she didn’t have any family. “Brimfire and damnation.” Caleb sat down on a hard chair and stared i
nto the darkness in front of him. He couldn’t just abandon her to the soldiers who would call. She needed someone, but he wanted and needed to get home. He rubbed his neck, feeling ridiculous, annoyed by Sophia and himself. It was the fourteenth of May and Sophia was able to get along just fine without him. Tomorrow he would go home, he promised himself.

  The next morning when he dressed and went for breakfast Sophia was already seated in the dining room. She wore a deep blue cotton that made her eyes seem more blue and was the prettiest dress he had seen her wear. The emerald necklace was around her neck and the top two buttons to the dress were unfastened.

  “Your dress is pretty,” he said as he sat down to her right.

  “Thank you.” She smiled at him, her eyes shining while her hand went to her collar and she fidgeted with the two buttons, fastening the lower one. He caught her hand. “Leave them alone. It’s buttoned almost to your chin anyway,” he said, feeling amused.

  She blushed and moved her hand away.

  “Why do you always leave those top buttons undone?”

  “I don’t give it much thought and I feel confined—” She shrugged. “I don’t know why. A foolish habit.”

  “I think there’s a whole side to you, Sophia, that you’re trying to repress,” he said softly, leaning closer to her over the table.

  She laughed. “That’s a ridiculous assumption, Major, and you wouldn’t recognize repression if it came up and bit you!”

  “Today I’m not going to get into an argument with you.” Her eyes sparkled, and he felt a strange mixture of emotions. “I’m controlling myself right now.”

  “Good heavens, over what?”

  Before he could answer Mazie came from the kitchen and placed a steaming cup of dark brew before him. “Major, I’ll have some grits for you right away.”

  “Thank you, Mazie.”

  Sophia waved her hand toward his cup. “There’s no more coffee. I think everyone in town is out. That’s parched rye.”

  “I wonder if supplies are as scarce in New Orleans?”

  “It’s the essential things that are worrisome. Doctor Perkins is worried about quinine; I worry about paper and ink. I have shoe blacking or berry juice if I can’t get more ink. I’m running out of buttons, and we’ve run out of soda. People all over town are using different kinds of substitutes.”

  He gazed at her, thinking it would be a blessing if she ran out of paper. It would keep her out of danger if the Union captured Memphis.

  “Now, Major O’Brien, what’s disturbing you this gorgeous morning?”

  “You shouldn’t live here alone. You need someone here to protect your reputation,” he insisted.

  To his annoyance her smile deepened, and she waved her hand as if dismissing his suggestion. “Major, if my good name has survived staying here alone with you—and it has—it will survive visits from men I met last night. You know no matron in this town would allow you to be alone very long with her daughter—so it’s how they view me. You’re worrying over something that didn’t bother Papa or my brothers.”

  “The only damn reason your papa and your brothers didn’t worry was because they didn’t let you out of their sight. You weren’t having gentlemen callers.”

  “My, you’re a grouch today,” she said airily, increasing his annoyance. “It’s entirely too nice a day. Maybe you should call on Eunice Mott or Hannah Lou or any of those beautiful ladies who dote on you.”

  “You’re changing the subject. There should be some spinster in Memphis who would gladly move in—”

  “Major, I can take care of myself. Don’t you try to entice some fussy spinster to chaperone me!”

  Mazie’s usually delicious breakfast lost all appeal to him and he tried to curb his temper. “You’re enjoying your damned independence!”

  “Do you swear that much around Hannah Lou or Eunice?” Sophia asked sweetly.

  “No, I damned well don’t, because they don’t provoke it!”

  Sophia’s blue eyes twinkled and she pursed her lips, and his anger boiled. “I provoke your anger? Go visit Hannah Lou and she’ll calm you.”

  “I’m calm,” he shot back. In spite of his annoyance, Sophia looked gorgeous and he wanted to yank her into his arms and shake her and kiss her until she agreed with him and stopped urging him to see other women. And he wished she wouldn’t see other men today.

  His feelings shocked him. He had never been so intense about a woman before.

  “Sophia—”

  “Relax, Major O’Brien,” she said, standing, “you’re not my father, and no one will hold you responsible. If I lose my good reputation over Major Tischler or Private Gates or anyone else, it’ll be all my own doing.” He was bestowed a sparkling smile with dimples, and she turned and left the room.

  Sophia seldom wore hoops and crinolines, and he watched the sway of her hips. Did she know she had a provocative walk? Did she know she was provoking him?

  He pushed his chair away in anger, coming to his feet, struggling to keep from going after her. He clamped his lips shut.

  The minx! She took to dancing last night like a bird to flying, and men took to her like plants drawn to sunshine. They not only were charmed—he heard all the talk about her daring at Shiloh. A captain from Louisiana tried to tell him how she bravely rescued six wounded men. He swung his fist through the air.

  “Major, are you all right?” Mazie asked, coming from the kitchen.

  Embarrassed and annoyed, he nodded. “Just angry over being so incapacitated.”

  “Miss Sophia had the best time last night. I’m glad you took her to that party. It’s time she meets some nice gentlemen, and she’s just blossomed this morning.”

  “I’m going out,” he snapped, striding from the room. He left the house to ride out past the mouth of Wolf Creek and Cochran’s Mill to practice shooting with his left hand. After thirty minutes attempting to shoot a tree stump, he quit in disgust. He couldn’t hit the courthouse with his left hand.

  It was noon by the time he stopped at the newspaper and the door was locked. He rode home and a block from the house saw the Merrick buggy. He caught up to ride alongside it. Sophia gave him a breathtaking smile of dimples and even white teeth.

  “Good afternoon.”

  “This is a beautiful day,” she said happily. “Major Tischler stopped by the office this morning and I showed him all around. His uncle owns a paper in Bowling Green, Kentucky.”

  “How nice.”

  “You still seem out of sorts.”

  “No. It’s a spring day and I’ve bought a train ticket and I’m going home tomorrow.”

  “Are you really? I thought Doctor Perkins said not to travel.”

  “Doctor Perkins will adjust to my leaving.” He watched her. “I’ll be back. I’ve bought land here.”

  “Why would you buy land in Memphis?” she asked in surprise.

  “I think it’s a good investment. One of the best. This city is poised for bigger things. You told me yourself how the population is growing and that it was the largest inland cotton market in the country before the war. I’ve talked to men in town, to Robertson Topp, to John McClanahan, and Benjamin Dill. I think the opportunities are great.”

  “You’re coming back here after the war?”

  “Don’t look so shocked. Yes, if only to sell my holdings. I’ve got funds available. I’ve invested my money in my brother’s blockade running—”

  “Great heavens, your brother is a blockade runner? No wonder everyone in town loves you.”

  “Everyone? You, Sophia?” he asked, arching his brow, wondering how she would answer.

  “You know you’ve won the friendship of people here,” she said.

  “My saints, if only I’d known. Sometimes you look at me as if you’d like to take your papa’s rifle to me,” he said, beginning to enjoy himself.

  “Will you stop teasing! In a minute I will want to take Papa’s rifle to you. You’re full of devilment, Major.”

  “Someone’s at
your house,” he said, feeling annoyance return. Another one of the damned officers she met last night, no doubt. “Miss Merrick, you were quite a success at the dance.”

  “Thank you. You can’t imagine what a delightful time I had. I do like dancing, Major. I wonder who that is.” She turned the buggy to stop and climb down. Caleb saw a man in a dark suit standing at the door talking to Mazie who was dabbing at her eyes.

  Sophia went up the steps and Caleb dismounted, tying the reins to the hitching post and following. As he climbed the step, he saw Mazie’s stricken look. His insides knotted and he felt cold, looking at the man who faced Sophia. Caleb walked faster.

  Chapter 7

  The man turned to Sophia. “Miss Merrick, I have some names of Memphis men who were with General Jackson in Shenandoah.” Sophia heard a roaring in her ears and she could barely hear the man’s next words. Major O’Brien moved to her side and she was dimly aware of his arm around her waist.

  “These men were killed at the Battle of McDowell. Ma’am, I’m contacting the families. These are the casualties. I’m sorry.”

  With stiff fingers Sophia took the list from him. She didn’t need to read it to know what she was going to find, but her gaze went to the paper and the name leapt up at her. Amos Merrick.

  She wanted to faint, to lose consciousness and not feel the pain that enveloped her heart. She felt Caleb’s arm tighten around her waist. “No,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

  “I’ll go tell Henry,” Mazie said and went inside while Caleb held open the door and pushed Sophia into the hallway. Caleb pulled her against him and held her while she cried quietly, dimly aware of his hand stroking her head. “Amos, Amos,” she cried. “I hate this war!”

  “I’m sorry, Sophia,” he whispered. “War is pure hell. So many hurt. I’m sorry.”

  She sobbed and Caleb wanted to scoop her into his arms and silently cursed his inability to do so. He took her by the arm and led her to the parlor where he sat down and pulled her onto his lap and pressed her against his chest.

  In minutes there was a knock at the front door and Henry shuffled into view. Sophia stood up, wiping her eyes.