Today We Go Home
Page 19
So very sad.
The image of the man she’d shot filled her mind again, and she closed her eyes. Forgive me, she begged him silently.
The bugle sounded, calling them to fall in, and soon they were on the return march to their permanent camp at Cheat Mountain. Rumors and speculation flew through the ranks.
“There’s no doubt in my mind we conquered those Rebs,” one man boasted. “Why, I took down at least thirty of them myself!”
Emily did not know how he knew that because shots were flying in all directions during the firefight. Except for the one, she had no idea if any of her shots had hit anyone.
“I think we were lucky to get out alive,” said another man. “Those Rebs knew we were comin’, and they were ready for us.”
“Did we win?”
“Of course we did.”
“Nah. We lost this one, boys.”
Emily listened and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The face of the Reb she’d shot would not fade from her mind. She carried him with her with every exhausting step. For the first time, soldiering was something she no longer wanted to do.
When they finally reached camp at Cheat Mountain after dark, she didn’t have the energy for anything more than to wrap herself in her coat and rubber blanket and lie down on the ground to sleep, too tired to care if she froze to death during the night.
Sleep claimed her, though her dreams were filled with the sounds of gunfire, artillery explosions, the cries of men as they lay dying, and the image of a Southern boy’s face as she shot him dead.
* * *
In the morning they were told they had fought honorably and courageously, but the victor was indeterminable. Both sides had large numbers of casualties, and unfortunately, the Rebs remained at the top of Allegheny Mountain.
That sounded like a loss to Emily’s ears, but she kept her opinion to herself. She felt much improved after a night’s rest, except for a heaviness hanging about her that she could not shake off. She went about her duties as always, drilling, firing practice, fatigue duty that involved collecting wood and water, digging entrenchments, and working construction on a new blockhouse, but she could not quite get back to her old self. Nothing was as fun as it had been before the battle.
It wasn’t until Retreat roll call before supper that Emily heard the news. Quincy Rawlings had been injured so severely in the battle that the surgeon had been forced to remove his right leg above the knee. He was being sent home.
“Come on, brother,” Ben said as he came upon her sitting in front of a cold fire. For once, Willie wasn’t with him. “Let’s rebuild our tent while we wait for the call to supper.”
Emily pulled her heavy thoughts back. Ben shook out his half-tent and attached it to the one he pulled off her pack, using the buttons and holes along the sides. Though she wanted to do nothing but rest, she also wanted a warm place to sleep tonight, so she forced herself to her feet to help him.
They’d finished constructing their new shelter only a week ago, just in time for the freezing nights that descended over camp. The money they’d paid to a soldier in camp who had been a mason before the war had been well spent. Using stones Emily and Ben carried from the river, he’d constructed a fireplace and chimney that kept their little tent cabin warm.
They’d stretched their half-shelter tents over a framework of sapling rafters to form a roof, with the gables covered by their rubber blankets. When they’d been ordered to march to Allegheny, they had taken down their half-tents and blankets, and now they needed to put it all back.
Having finished fastening the tents together, Ben flung the fabric over the rafters. Emily grabbed for it on the other side and set to work tying the corners and sides to the stockade walls. When they met at the back of their little cabin to fasten Ben’s rubber blanket to the gable there, he looked around and, in a low voice, said, “I’ve been thinking. What if we invited Willie to share our shelter with us now that Quincy is gone? More bodies in one cabin would be warmer.”
Emily’s fingers froze, and she looked at her younger brother in disbelief. Was he asking her blessing to share a bed with another man? His expression gave no answer, so all Emily could do was make her voice carefully neutral when she asked, “Where would he sleep, exactly?”
A flush crept up Ben’s neck. His gaze slid away from hers to focus on the knots that he seemed unable to tie. “It would be a simple matter to construct an elevated bunk. Some of the cabins have four men in them. Three of us should be quite comfortable.”
Emily looked around to make sure no one was within earshot and lowered her voice. “Ben, I see you’ve developed feelings for Willie, and I see he feels the same.” She laid her hand on his arm to get him to look at her. “While I admit that I’m surprised by it, I can see he makes you happy. What I’m worried about, though, is that if others find out, they won’t understand and they’ll hurt you. Or, worse.”
Ben’s eyebrows drew together, and he looked confused. “Why would anyone hurt me?”
He wasn’t making this easy for her. She took a deep breath. “Haven’t you heard the way the men joke about bedroom matters? The few times anyone has mentioned sexual relations between two men, it was clearly said with disgust, hatred even. I don’t want you to be the target of all that.”
Ben’s mouth was twisted to the side, and he was biting his lip as though trying not to laugh. Emily grabbed both of his upper arms and put her face right in his. “It’s not funny! You’re putting yourself and Willie in danger if you continue this way!”
Rather than making him understand, her words seemed to amuse him further. And then he did the most surprising thing. He pulled Emily into a hug. “Oh, Em, I do love you. You are something else.”
Emily hadn’t realized how much she’d missed physical contact. Back at home she’d hugged Ada, Harriet, Pa, or one of her brothers nearly every day. It wasn’t since David died, in fact, that she’d been hugged, and now that Ben held her, she didn’t want it to end. She closed her eyes and held him a moment longer.
But she needed to make him see her point. Regretfully, she pulled back to face him again. “Ben, don’t you understand what I’m saying to you? You must end your relationship with Willie before you are discovered.”
Ben’s eyes still gleamed with delight as he said, “I love Willie, Em. I truly do.”
Emily looked at the ground and searched her mind for a way to make him see her point. Ben reached out a finger, which he placed under her chin to tip her face up. His expression softened. “You do know Willie is a woman, don’t you?”
Emily reared back and stumbled over an exposed root. “What?”
At her exclamation, Ben shushed her and pulled her back behind their cabin. With all the commotion in camp and music coming from a handful of different groups, she doubted anyone had heard her. Still, she lowered her voice again to be certain no one but Ben heard her words. “Willie is a woman? You’re not lying?”
Ben shook his head. “She’s the same as you.”
Emily felt as if she’d been hit by a lightning bolt. How could she have not seen the truth? How had she missed all the signs? Because now that Emily thought about it, there had been several. Willie’s small hands. The way he cut off his laughter as though embarrassed by its unusually high pitch. The way he rubbed dirt on his chin, which Emily had thought was due to absentmindedness but now realized was intentional to look like the shadow of a beard.
Right on the heels of the realization came an unexpected feeling of betrayal. Why hadn’t Willie trusted Emily with the secret?
Shame filled her. Emily hadn’t trusted Willie with her secret either.
“So what do you think?” Ben cut into her thoughts. “Can I invite her to share our cabin now that she doesn’t have a tentmate? We can protect her.”
A new thought came to Emily’s mind. “Don’t you care about the impro
priety of that? I mean, what about her honor?”
Ben’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, and he rolled his eyes. “Since when do you care about propriety, Miss Trousers?”
Emily blanched at the truth of his words, and then a burst of laughter escaped her. She was being ridiculous. She shook her head and reached to tie the final knots on their cabin. “Yes, I think it’s a good idea to have Willie join us. But”—she paused, nervous—“does she know…about me?”
Ben nodded. “I told her you’re a woman, too, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
A shot of anger swept through her. How long had Willie known the truth about her? “That wasn’t your business to tell, Ben. You should’ve asked me first.”
He ducked his head. “I know. I’m so sorry. It slipped out after I discovered her secret.” Here his face flamed, and Emily wondered what they had been doing when the truth was discovered. Clearly, however, Ben wasn’t going to share that bit of the story with her. “I wanted to reassure her that I wouldn’t give her away.”
Emily pinned him with her gaze. “That’s a bit ironic, don’t you think?”
Again, he looked ashamed, which mollified Emily. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have said a word. I won’t make the mistake again. I promise.”
She nodded. “See that you don’t.” Then, to show him she held no hard feelings, she gave him a little shove toward camp. “Go invite her, I mean, him—we must still use that pronoun—to join our tent, and I’ll hunt up some timber for another bunk.”
“Thanks, Em.” Ben pulled her into another quick hug before dashing away. Emily shook her head in wonder as she went in search of an ax to fell the trees she’d need for Willie’s new bunk. Improper or not, it was probably better for the couple to have a private place where they could relax their guard so they didn’t slip up in the presence of others.
Their cabin would now be cozier with three of them in it. So why did the idea of Willie joining them make Emily feel so lonely?
* * *
Later, after Willie’s bunk was built, her few possessions moved in, and dinner was eaten, the three friends finally had time to relax around the fire outside. Emily couldn’t help but feel awkward around Willie, now that she knew her secret, and she realized both Willie and Ben were probably feeling awkward, too, or else they would have gone inside to escape the cold. The tone of the entire camp was subdued tonight. She heard no music, and most of the men were writing letters or staring silently into the flames of their campfires.
Ben cleared his throat. “I wonder if the man who killed Pa was in battle yesterday.” He poked at the fire with a stick. “I’d like to know he got his due.”
Emily wondered what due was coming to her for the boy she’d shot. She swallowed hard.
They all stared into the flames, lost in their thoughts. Emily thought that was all they were going to say about the battle, but then Willie quietly asked, “Did you hear that horse scream when the shell hit him?”
Emily shuddered, remembering. It was a sound that had haunted her all through the long cold night, and she was not looking forward to a repeat tonight. “Some of the men say we should sew our names onto our clothes. To identify our bodies if it comes to that.”
Only the sound of the popping and crackling of the fire greeted her announcement. After a long moment, Willie got up and went into their tent. She reemerged carrying a small pouch and raised her eyebrows. “Well? Go get your housewives, and let’s get it done.”
Emily got to her feet and went inside to dig her sewing kit, called a housewife by the soldiers, out of her pack. Ben followed close behind her.
Willie was still standing by the fire, and she had both hands on the still-fastened top button of her coat. She looked at Emily with a half smile. “Perhaps we should do this inside, where it’s warmer.”
Emily realized it wasn’t a matter of warmth that prompted the suggestion, but the need to keep their secrets. Removing their coats, something Emily never did except to sleep at night, could risk revealing their true forms under the thin Army blouses they wore.
“Yes, good idea,” she answered, turning back to their tent. “Let’s go inside.” She pulled aside the rubber blanket that served as their door, just as Ben was coming out. “We’re going to work inside,” she told him.
The smile on Ben’s face did not reveal if he understood the reason she wanted to work inside, but he was clearly delighted at finally sharing his personal space with Willie. The look he sent her could have melted wax. “I’ll go collect some wood for the fire so we’ll be plenty warm.”
Emily and Willie each removed their overcoats and settled side by side on Emily’s bunk. As they set to work sewing their names into their collars, Emily spoke hesitantly. “Do you bind your…yourself? To look more like a man?”
Willie shook her head. “No need to. As long as I keep my coat or jacket on, no one can see anything. My mother and sister are equally as…um, lacking.” She laughed good-naturedly.
Emily laughed along with her friend. She’d lost weight since enlisting, which reduced the size of her bosom some, but she still required the bindings. “Consider yourself fortunate. My bindings are too hot and too restrictive. There are times I swear I might faint for the lack of a deep breath.”
They were still laughing when Ben came in. “What’s so funny?” he asked as he crouched in front of their tiny fireplace to build up the fire.
Emily and Willie looked at each other and broke out in another fit of giggles. The topic was much too personal to share with a man, even Ben. When he turned back to them with a quizzical look on his face, they both laughed harder. “What?” he asked.
Emily took pity on her brother and forced herself to stop laughing. “It is nothing,” she told him. “Truly.”
Emily changed the subject. “Willie, tell us about your home in the Nebraska Territory. What’s it like there?”
Willie smiled toward her handiwork, but her mind was clearly on her home as she said, “It’s beautiful. You would love it. Both of you. All wide-open sky, rolling wheat fields, and prairie. You think the horizon is going to stretch on forever, but then a mountain pops up out of nowhere and it’s the most beautiful thing you could imagine.”
Emily could almost see what Willie described. “What about your family farm?”
Willie nodded and used her teeth to cut the thread. “My family grows wheat and corn, which my father sells in Omaha to traders who take it down the Missouri. My older brother is talking about getting into the cattle business, but when I left, he hadn’t done anything about it yet.”
“You’ve mentioned him before,” Ben said, the sewing completely forgotten on his lap where he sat on the ground by the fire. “Tell us more about him.”
“His name is Terrence. He’s five years older than me and has a wife with a baby on the way.” She fell silent for a moment and, in a quiet voice, amended, “I suppose by now the baby must be about a year old.”
Emily didn’t like to see her friend sad. “Do you have other siblings, or is it just you and Terrence?”
Willie nodded. “I have a younger sister.” She hugged her coat in her arms. “She was the only one I told before I left.” Abruptly, she dug through the coat on her lap until she found what she was looking for in an inside pocket and held it out toward Emily. “She gave me this so I would not forget her. It was her favorite.”
Emily stuck her needle into her coat and set the whole thing aside so she could take the offered handkerchief from Willie with the reverence it deserved. She spread the square of cotton over her lap and studied the fragile design.
The border was made of tiny red stitches in a subtle scallop design. Inside of this were tiny red dots in a band about a quarter inch wide. Next to the band of scattered dots was a row of red dot clusters forming diamonds, laid end to end all the way around. The entire pattern was repeated, sc
attered dots and diamond dots, and finished with diamonds even smaller, made of only four red dots. Stitched into one corner were the initials ODE. Emily pointed to the initials. “Are these your sister’s?”
Willie nodded as she took back the handkerchief, as though it pained her to be out of contact with it for too long. “Yes, her name is Olive.”
Emily wondered about the other two initials. “Is Smith a name you chose when you enlisted?”
Willie nodded but did not offer her real family name.
Ben said, “Olive must be real special to you.”
Willie blinked several times and resolutely returned to her sewing, even though her name was finished on her overcoat. Emily thought she wasn’t going to respond, but then Willie said, “Yes, she is. She helped me concoct my plan and new identity when I decided I needed to leave home. If not for her, I wouldn’t be here, free.”
“What do you mean, free?” Ben asked, doing his best not to appear too interested, but Emily saw he was barely breathing in anticipation of Willie’s answer.
Willie kept her eyes on her needle and thread, up and down, creating a design after her name that looked like a sheaf of wheat. “My father arranged a marriage for me that I did not want.” She blushed. “The man was a neighbor whose first wife had died, leaving five children. He was thirty years my senior.”
Ben nodded, and tension visibly drained off of him. “So you had to run away to avoid the marriage?”
“Yes, and I’m sure I broke my poor mama’s heart in the process.” She fell silent as she took several stitches. “The only way I could survive on my own was if I took on the identity of a male. Otherwise there would be no jobs available to me.”
Emily understood this well. The only jobs available to an unmarried woman were domestic worker or schoolteacher, neither of which paid enough to support oneself. The other option, prostitution, was too horrible to think about.