Down from the slope and onto the narrow road that led past Ellie’s house, he passed over the log bridge where he had pulled the cow out of the flooding creek. He smiled to himself when he pictured it. The damn thing slid on the logs and would have drowned had he not gotten a rope around her head and held her above water until Ellie’s father had come to help him. He was twelve years old at the time. Even at that age, he knew he was going to marry Ellie. The thought caused his smile to widen.
He felt his heart pick up an extra beat when he rounded the curve in the road, and could see Arthur Marshall’s two-story house nestled firmly in an oak grove. Then he noticed the buggies and saddle horses lining the lane from the road to the house, but no people. A few yards closer and he could hear the hum generated by a crowd of people. He realized then that they were behind the house. Puzzled, he wondered what was going on. He thought for a second, What day is this? Then he remembered. It was a Sunday. A funeral? The thought caused him to worry. Was he arriving on a sorrowful occasion?
He nudged the gray and picked up the pace, covering the last few yards at a comfortable lope. Turning onto the lane, he encountered Albert Thompkins, a neighbor who had a small farm on the other side of the river.
Thompkins recognized Tanner at the same time. Startled, he blurted, “Tanner?” and almost dropped a bucket he had just gotten from his buggy. He stood staring as if seeing a ghost.
“Howdy, Mr. Thompkins,” Tanner greeted the stunned man. “What’s goin’ on? I hope it ain’t a funeral.”
“Tanner…” was all Thompkins could say at that moment.
The old man’s reaction was astonishing to Tanner, and he was about to ask if he was feeling all right when Mrs. Thompkins came around the side of the house on her way to help her husband. Like Albert, she stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping, to gape at the returning soldier.
“Martha, it’s Tanner,” Thompkins announced unnecessarily.
“Tanner Bland,” Martha gasped. “We thought you were dead.”
Tanner smiled at that, realizing then the reason for his strange reception. “Ah, no ma’am, I ain’t dead,” he said.
Finding his voice then, Albert Thompkins spoke. “When Jubal Early’s troops were defeated at Waynesboro, we saw a roster of all them that surrendered. There was another list of those that were dead or missing. You were on that list. A month went by, and most everybody on that list was accounted for. Everybody else was presumed dead.”
“Well, sir,” Tanner said with a chuckle, “I ain’t dead.” He motioned toward the house then. “Did somebody die?”
There was no answer from either of them for a long moment. Then Mr. Thompkins spoke softly. “No. Somebody got married.”
An immediate sensation of blood draining down to his feet caused Tanner to grasp the saddle horn to steady himself. A wedding in Arthur Marshall’s house could mean only one thing. He did not want to believe what he feared. “Ellie?” he asked, his voice shaking.
“Oh, Lord,” Martha Thompkins wailed. “Tanner, we all thought you were dead.”
“Who’s the groom?” Tanner asked, his voice stern and leaden. His initial reaction was to fight for what was always rightfully his.
The horrified man and wife exchanged woeful glances, and then Albert answered. “Your brother, Trenton.” There was no response from the stunned young man. Unable to form words to reply, he stood there dazed by the devastating blow to his sense of reason. “They were married a couple of hours ago,” Albert added.
Tanner sat in the saddle, utterly unable to make himself think. He had known since he was a boy that he would marry Eleanor Marshall. Conflicting emotions battled within him, whirling around in his brain—anger, injury, dismay, despair, all within a matter of a few short seconds. Trenton, younger than Tanner by a year and a half, married to Ellie, his Ellie? Surely this was a nightmare that only seemed real. He gazed at Martha Thompkins with pleading eyes, hoping she would suddenly disappear and he would awaken. She simply stood gazing back at him, shaking her head sadly.
Realizing the reality of his nightmare, he at last gained control of his emotions. Slowly and deliberately, he dismounted, not certain whether or not he wanted to face the bride and groom. He was hurt, injured to his mental core, and he didn’t know what to do. Both Albert and Martha Thompkins continued to stare at the devastated young man, at a loss for words. What could one say in this situation? They both breathed a sigh of relief when Tanner finally spoke again.
“I reckon I should welcome Ellie into the family,” he said softly. He paused to think about that for a second, then added, “And give Trenton my blessings.”
“Why, that would be a real Christian thing to do,” Martha said and stepped back to let him pass. She and her husband then followed along behind him when he took the gray’s reins and led the horse toward the backyard.
Rounding the corner of the house, Tanner walked into a gathering of a dozen or more wedding guests as they celebrated the happy occasion with food and drink. The buzz of conversation and laughter ended abruptly as the guests were suddenly struck dumb by the unexpected appearance of an apparition. Seated at the center of the table was his Ellie, dressed in a flowing white gown, Trenton at her side. Her eyes open wide in shock, she looked as if she was trying to get to her feet. But in the next instant, her eyes rolled toward the top of her head, and she fainted dead away. Trenton jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process, not knowing what to do—help his bride or go to greet his brother. “Tanner…,” he blurted, just as Albert Thompkins had.
Tanner, still undecided if he should be angry or understanding, stood transfixed for a long moment, his eyes focused on the woman he had longed to see for so long. Several of the women closest to her rushed to help the stricken bride while Trenton stood helplessly lost. Dazed by the confusion that his arrival had created, Tanner’s gaze fell on Ellie’s mother as she rushed to her daughter’s side. Then he glanced at the distraught face of her father. He realized that he might as well have dropped a grenade in the midst of the celebration. Unable to cope with the situation at that point, Tanner shot a quick glance in his brother’s direction and muttered, “Congratulations.” When he turned to leave, he came eye to eye with his father.
John Bland had stood speechless at the end of the long table as the awkward scene played out between his two sons. Relieved to discover his son was alive, yet overcome with the shocking turn of events, he did not know what to say. When Tanner broke the painful silence with a simple one-word greeting, “Pa,” his father stepped forward to embrace his son.
“Tanner,” he said, “I don’t know what to tell you, but thank God you made it back.”
“I’ll be on my way,” Tanner said softly, talking only to his father. “I’m sorry I put a damper on the wedding party.” He turned his horse around then and climbed up in the saddle.
Alarmed, John Bland asked, “Where are you goin’?”
“I’m goin’ on home,” Tanner answered. “I want to pick up a few of my things.” Not wishing to discuss it further, he nudged his horse, leaving the devastated wedding party behind him.
It was a somber and thoroughly shaken soldier who returned home from the war on that warm April afternoon. At the particular moment he turned the gray in at the gate, he felt that his world had ended. All the plans and dreams he had nurtured, the future for Ellie and him, everything he cared about, had come crashing down upon him. And the sickening thought occurred to him that he had ruined things for everyone by not getting killed.
Riding up the path to the house, he was met by three barking dogs. Two of them he recognized as his father’s hounds. The third was evidently a new addition since he had been gone. Yapping and snarling, the dogs challenged the big gray gelding’s right to access the house. Tanner yelled at them, calling the two by name, but they did not stop until he dismounted. Then, content that they had adequately performed their duties as watchdogs, they slinked back to the shade under the porch. Tanner led his horse to the trough
by the well. After the gray had drunk, Tanner led him to the barn. He was in the process of feeding the horse some oats when he heard his father’s horse coming up the path from the road.
“Has the weddin’ party broke up already?” Tanner asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Tanner, what are you gonna do?” his father asked, ignoring the question.
“Whaddaya mean, what am I gonna do?” Tanner responded. “There ain’t much I can do about Trenton and Ellie, is there? No use talkin’ about that. It’s a done thing.” As much as he wanted to be finished with the subject, he still could not help wondering how it happened. “She didn’t wait very long after news of my death, did she? And Trenton…how long have they been…” He didn’t bother to finish, feeling disgusted just thinking about it. “Aw, to hell with it,” he concluded, then quickly changed the subject. “How you makin’ out, Pa? Everything all right with you?”
“I’m doin’ all right, but this thing today is one of the worst things that’s happened to me since your mother died. I swear, son, we all thought you were dead. Don’t take it out on your brother.”
“I’m not. I wish ’em both well,” Tanner said, realizing that his father was caught in the middle between his two sons. “I’ll be leavin’ here just as soon as I get a few things together.” His father started to protest, but he silenced him with the one statement he knew to be true. “I wish ’em well, happiness and all that, but I’ll be damned if I can stay around to watch it.”
“Where are you goin’?” John Bland implored, realizing that he was about to lose his son for the second time.
“I don’t know…Kansas, I reckon.”
“Kansas? Why? What’s in Kansas?”
Tanner cocked his head to one side and frowned. “I reckon it’s what ain’t in Kansas that matters,” he answered, still picturing Trenton and Ellie together. “I wanna get out of this damn uniform just as quick as I can.” He paused to glance at his father. “You didn’t get rid of all my clothes after I died, did you?”
His father simply answered, “No,” not missing the barb intended. “Son, I don’t blame you for feelin’ the way you do, but nobody meant to do you any harm. Listen, don’t go ridin’ off mad as hell. It’ll be dark in a couple of hours. If you’re still hell-bent on leavin’, you might as well wait till mornin’.” Seeing the question in Tanner’s eyes, he said, “Ain’t nobody here tonight but me. They’ll be stayin’ at the Marshalls’ for a couple of days.” He waited for a moment when he saw that Tanner was thinking it over. “You look like you ain’t been eatin’ much. I can at least give you somethin’ to eat.”
“I guess I could use a good night’s sleep,” Tanner said after a few minutes had passed with no reply. It occurred to him then that he owed his father at least a short visit after having been gone for so long. “I’m sorry, Pa. Of course I’ll stay till mornin’—give us a chance to talk a little.” It just occurred to him then that he had not seen his older brother at the reception. “Pa, I didn’t see Travis. Is he…” He hesitated to finish the question.
“He’s all right,” John Bland quickly assured him.
“He’s still in Richmond—something to do with provost marshals.”
“Thank God he made it through,” Tanner said.
Maybe one of the important things about living in a remote part of the state, if not the most important, was the fact that fields and livestock were not devastated in the war. Consequently, John Bland was able to provide a hearty meal for his son. After supper, they were even able to steer the conversation away from the events of the tragic afternoon. His father was interested to know where Tanner had been in the fighting before Waynesboro, the details of each battle he fought in, and in general, what it was like to be in the infantry. They talked about the war until well past dark. “I see you got yourself a horse,” John commented, and Tanner told him of the circumstances that led to the acquisition of the gray.
“Well, that ain’t too bad. You went off to war on foot, and came home ridin’ a horse. I reckon you’d have to call that a profit.”
“Yeah, I reckon,” Tanner answered, “till you figure in my loss.” The quip served to revive his melancholy once more, and he felt a need to be alone with his thoughts. “I need to get some fresh air before I turn in. I reckon I’ll take a little walk outside.” His father nodded. It was obvious that Tanner wanted to be alone.
Whether by design, or accident—Tanner didn’t consciously think about it—he found himself on the footbridge across the creek that led to the path through the poplars and oaks to a mossy glade encircled with rhododendron where the creek branched out to form a Y. The glade was halfway between his house and Eleanor’s, and it had been their special place where they would meet. They had been slipping off to meet there since in their teens. This was where many hopes and dreams had been created. This was also the place where he had told her that he had volunteered to go to war. And this was the place where he had promised to come back and she had promised to wait.
Why he had come here on this most sorrowful of nights, he couldn’t explain. Maybe he just wanted to be where happy memories dwelt, to see it just once more before he left Virginia for good. Even in the darkness of the evening, he could make out familiar trees and rocks. He sat down on a large oak limb that ran horizontally for about five feet before turning up toward the sky. He remained there for at least half an hour, listening to the night sounds of the glade.
He sighed and was preparing to start back to the house when suddenly a slight rustle of leaves behind him made him pause. A raccoon or possum most likely, he thought, and stood still to listen. Then he heard it again, but this time the sound was distinctly that of footsteps. His reactions were more instinctive now, and the thought that came to mind was that he had no weapons with him. With nothing but his hands for defense, he stood prepared to fight. Within seconds, the rhododendron branches parted and she appeared, as she had appeared many times before in dreams. But this time it was no dream.
“I hoped you’d be here,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion. “I knew you had to be here. I prayed to God you would be here.” She ran to him, and he caught her in his arms. They clung tightly to each other while she cried uncontrollably. “Tanner…Tanner,” she pleaded between sobs. “It isn’t fair! They said you were dead.”
It was several minutes before his spinning brain could regain control again and he could speak. “Ellie, what are you doin’ here? Where’s Trenton?” He forced her away from his chest so he could look into her eyes.
Like a child unable to stem her tears, she tried to answer. “Asleep…drunk,” she choked out. Then after a pause to catch her breath, she calmed down. “I had to see you. Trenton drank himself into a stupor. I left him asleep across the foot of the bed. I was afraid you’d gone away again.”
“This isn’t right,” Tanner forced himself to say. “They’ll miss you back at the house.”
“I don’t care,” Eleanor insisted. “It isn’t fair! I’ve waited for this night all my life, but it was supposed to be with you.” She pressed her body close against his again. “They said you were dead. I didn’t know what to do. Trenton asked me to marry him. He has been so attentive to me the whole time you were away, always offering to help, always stopping in to see me. When they said you were dead, it almost killed me as well. I didn’t care anymore, about anything, so I told him I’d marry him.”
She held him even closer, her face turned up to him, inviting. “I’ll go away with you if you want. We’ll find another place to live where nobody knows us.”
“We can’t do that, Ellie. Trenton’s my brother. And it would not only hurt him. What about your folks? My father? We just can’t do it. What’s done is done.”
“I know,” she confessed reluctantly. “You’re right, but I would do it if you wanted me to.” Her chin dropped, her eyes closed tightly for a few moments while she thought about what she was about to say. Her mind made up then, she spoke, her words solemn and direct
. “I have dreamed of my wedding night for so many years, and it has always been you in that dream. This is my wedding night. We’re here in our special place together. I want you to take me now, as it should have been.”
Tanner wanted to roar out against his crippling frustration. He knew that he simply could not do what she asked, no matter how much he wanted to. It was wrong. “Ellie, I can’t. No matter what we have felt for each other, you’re my brother’s wife.”
“I swear he will never know,” she pleaded.
“I’ll know,” Tanner said softly, “and later on you’ll know, and regret it.” He gently pushed her away from him then. “Now, before anyone misses you, go on back to your bed and your husband. Trenton’s a good man. I wish you both health and happiness.” Without giving her time to protest, he turned and walked away before she had a chance to see the gleam of a tear in his eye.
Shortly after sunup the next morning, Tanner Bland bade his father farewell and left Alleghany County and Virginia behind him for good.
Chapter 4
The remaining days of June and most of the month of July were spent in the saddle as Tanner Bland made his journey across the country. With no knowledge of the land he crossed, and with limited contact with anyone along the way, he had only the sun to guide him. He figured that if he simply held the big gray gelding to a steady western course, he would eventually hit Kansas. He had very little hope of finding Jeb Hawkins, even if he found Kansas, but he remembered that Jeb had often spoken of his home in Mound City. His ultimate intention was to ride on farther west, into Montana Territory, as Jeb had suggested. But he decided he might as well see if he could find Jeb on the way.
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