The Shiloh Series: Books 1-3

by Phillip Bryant

  “We all gain something for our wishes and desires, or we would not have any,” Philip replied. “I wish to know and understand why.”

  “Me boy is just as I as far as the board is concerned, an’ they nothing in which my standing be different than his. He is me an’ I just like he; you would no sooner deny me without cause, Parson. I have me own reasons for wishing it, an’ that be enough for the board.”

  “There’s a reason my support is required if the board is to have oversight over all functions of the church, and it is my responsibility to see that the board is made up of upstanding men of the community. I will take that responsibility seriously. If you will, why do not we have an interview tomorrow and we can talk?” Philip said.

  “Fair enough, Parson. Lee will be at your home after he’s done with his chores,” Andrew Harper declared as he stood, signaling that he was through with the visit.

  “Lee, if I might ask something of a rather delicate nature?” Philip said quietly.

  Lee nodded.

  “I’ve heard rumors from some reputable quarters regarding the conduct of Robert toward married women and in abuse of drink. What are your assessments of this?”

  Lee looked coldly at Philip. “None of your business or anyone else’s is my assessment!”

  “Be that as it may, if the rumors are true they represent a problem for you and your father and the board. I have to look out for the reputation of the church, and if there is any hint of truth to these rumors it will cast a shadow upon the board and the church to be harboring a known fornicator and drunkard in our midst.” Philip nervously tapped his fingers in his open palm as he spoke, avoiding Lee’s eyes.

  “You’d jeopardize my father’s position as well?” Lee said angrily.

  “I’m only saying what would happen should these things be true. A man who cannot control his children has no business being in control of the church,” Philip replied. “I’m not threatening to deny you or bring up his own position, but if Robert is carrying on like this, you need to do something about it before the truth, if it is true, comes out. If the rumors are not true, then clear up the gossip so that there’s no hint of impropriety.”

  “Who is it that is spreading these rumors?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say, nor do I want you to go hunting down people. You can confront your brother and find out the truth from him, if he is honorable enough to speak the truth to his own brother.”

  “I’ll not be your spy or your gossip,” Lee retorted. “You can see yourself out!”

  Philip stood and nodded, and for an awkward moment Lee loitered a second more before stomping out. Elizabeth appeared just after with a quizzical expression.

  “Did they up and leave you here?” Elizabeth flung her arms into the air and shook her head as if they had committed a heinous act of inhospitality.

  “I suppose I’m family and need no special treatment,” Philip replied and stood. “I’ll be taking my leave. Join me for a spell on the porch?”

  “Have you been sufficiently politicked?” Elizabeth asked as they settled down into two chairs. The air still had a nip of early spring but was not too uncomfortable as the afternoon wore on.

  “I am to meet with Lee tomorrow to talk more specifically about the office. Your father feels it is something of an affront to him, but I want to be certain this is what is best for the church. I know it is not like seeking to be a deacon, but there are responsibilities that should be taken seriously.”

  “What does your father say?”

  “Nothing, really. I think he will support it, but only because he’s on the board as a regular member now and sees no harm in it. I want to see there’s no harm in it too. I do not know your brother that well. A little talk should enlighten me to his intentions.”

  “What are your intentions if you do not approve?” Elizabeth asked, leaning forward and folding her hands neatly upon her knees.

  “I hope your father remains honorable and your mother leaves a space open on Sundays for me,” he said with a smile.

  “Father might bluster, but he wouldn’t forbid my wishes just for his own pride. Still, the Irish pride is not easily tamed once bruised.”

  “I’ve no intention of bruising it, nor of choosing to lose your mother’s hearty stew for something petty like suspicion. I’d also not wish to cease having our brief visits here on your porch.”

  “Now, Parson, what are your intentions regarding those future visits here on my porch?” she asked with a smile.

  “Hmmm, keep inviting myself over?” Philip replied and rubbed his stomach.

  “I can easily fix that, Mr. Pearson. I can tell Mother of your atrocious gossip and forward advances on my person.”

  “Then I suppose you’d wish to confess your sin of lying before next communion? I have nothing but pure intentions upon your person, Elizabeth Harper, as you well know.” Philip clasped his hands together and thought a moment. “The question is, do you wish the life of a minister’s wife?”

  Elizabeth blanched noticeably. “Mr. Pearson, are you being forward?”

  “It was what you were getting at,” Philip replied defensively, suddenly embarrassed for saying anything.

  She smiled devilishly. “I do believe that this is something you should be discussing with father, Philip Pearson.”

  Philip cleared his throat and shifted in the chair nervously. “Indeed I should. But that has not been lost upon you, I am sure. As long as your mother portends to feed me I’ll keep coming back like a lost hound, but it is not just for her good cooking that I come, Miss Elizabeth Harper.”

  A broad smile was her reply.

  “Well, I do need to be getting along. I will see your brother tomorrow, and if you happen to be in town, please drop by the house or I shall come calling again soon.” Philip stood and took her hand, feeling both nervous and a little silly keeping the genteel act going, but it seemed to give her some pleasure to play along.

  Chapter 4

  Germantown, Ohio, May 22, 1861

  Robert Harper knew that a Monday meant work. His father tolerated a relaxed day on a Sunday, but that was over and the new day with new work dawned. If he wanted to slip away for a spell he needed to feign some illness or injury at breakfast. He conserved his shirking as much as possible lest he be caught. It was something of a game—how many times could he get away with skipping chores or creating some unneeded errand into town for a few hours of unsupervised philandering, or drinking, or both? Mrs. Puget had given him the signal yesterday in church, he was sure; the signal that the master of the farm, old man Ingersoll Puget would be absent for a day, or just long enough for a clandestine visit.

  It was always before light that they were all up and out collecting eggs, milking the cows, getting the repairs started on yet another section of fence railing or some other such nonsense that always seemed to be on his father’s mind for him to tend to. The fields would need plowing soon, or weeding, or planting, or always something else. He’d already been into town the week before for something they didn’t really need, but that would not do this time. A fever or an injury was the way out of today’s work.

  Robert trundled down the stairs, taking them gingerly. There was activity in the kitchen, and he knew Father and Lee would already be in there getting a quick bite before heading out. Robert peered around the corner and into the dining area. Father was seated and sipping coffee, making notations in a ledger while Lee was picking a plate of eggs, looking resigned to another day of work and none too happily. Mother and Elizabeth were in the kitchen clanging away at dishes.

  “Morning,” Robert said sleepily, stepping into the room and favoring his right leg.

  “You get on that section of fence on east field; that stack of timber ain’t doin’ no good laying agi’n the barn.” His father looked up briefly from his ledger.

  “Uh, yeah, I’ll see to it,” Robert said slowly and hobbled into the kitchen.

  Elizabeth turned and watched him enter. “And what is your ai
lment this time?”

  “Oh, my leg is giving me pain is all,” Robert said and rubbed it gently.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “What’s that?” his mother asked and turned from the cookstove to look at him. “You in pain?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, Mother. Just a little bit of pain is all,” Robert whined.

  “Oh goodness,” Elizabeth said. “What work are you trying to get out of this time?”

  “Me? I’m not trying …”

  “You’ll get to the east field if you know what’s good fer you, boyo,” his father called from the other room.

  Robert glared at Elizabeth and hobbled into the dining room to take his seat. Lee looked up from his eggs and grinned. Their father fixed Robert with a stare that said it all. He’d better get himself to the east field and replace those fence poles or there would be hell to pay.

  Hours later, with some of the work done—just enough of the wood gone from the stack that it did look like he’d been doing something—Robert stole into the barn and saddled his favorite horse. By the time Father and Lee returned from wherever they were it would be late, and they would not even know he’d left and come back. Anticipation rose in his chest—if he still had enough time, that is. Puget would be back at some point; his trips to Dayton were rarely for an entire day; but Robert only needed a few moments of rolling in the hay with the lonely missus to get his fix of danger. He wouldn’t have time to get any liquor, but that was secondary to the tryst.

  The missus, Ingred Puget, was ugly but buxom and obviously inclined to a younger man such as himself. Robert didn’t care if he were not the only one; that he was one was enough. The idea of giving the signal at church had been his own, and he enjoyed the deliciousness of the sin—that church accommodated the connection only made it more so. The prudish could speak against the sins of the flesh, but they were people who were obviously too stuck on the letter of the law to appreciate the occasional horizontal refreshment.

  Robert tied his horse to a tree some distance from the road and cut across Puget’s field to get to the barn. It was always the barn, lest someone show up at the house and discover the rendezvous. His heart was beating quickly, not just from his pace as he quick-walked toward the barn, keeping himself hidden from the main house, nor from the rising tide of lust, but from the thing that was most intoxicating: the gamble.

  Slipping inside, Robert peeked around stalls and into the loft. Ingred was not there. Perhaps she had given up after he was so late? Still, likely she’d come back to check. Robert took off his coat and let down his suspenders, rubbing his hands with glee as he paced back and forth, trying to work off some of the nervous energy.

  It had all happened by accident, this one. He’d debauched comely wives before, driven by his need for danger and the forbidden, but this time she had cornered him while he was innocently borrowing a plow shear. Perhaps it was his reputation, or perhaps it was that she was a kindred spirit stuck in this small-town world. Either way he didn’t mind. Now, they made it a regular thing. Right under the parson’s nose, the whole church’s nose, the whole community’s noses. The things said were, after all, only rumors. No one had caught him, and no one would.

  Footsteps leading up to the barn drew his attention, but they were heavy boots and not dainty woman’s shoes. Robert grabbed his coat and hat and dove into an empty stall. The doors opened, and the footsteps came partway into the room, then stopped.

  “Boy, I knows you in here,” the voice of Ingersoll Puget called out.

  Robert froze his breathing and cursed to himself. He’d been seen.

  “Boy, you come out; don’t make me come find ye. I put a belly full of shot in ye if ye make me come lookin’ fer ye.”

  There was no lie, no excuse that was going to cover why he was there. None. He was half-undressed. Even if he tried to let on that he was there to borrow something, the excuse would not fly while he stood there in his undershirt with his trousers practically down.

  “I knows why ye here, boy. I knows what you been doin’, an’ I’m gonna put a stop to it fer good. You come out! Make me come get ye an’ I will put a belly full o’ shot in ye. C’mon now, boy. I promise to make it right quick-like … don’t think you gonna talk ye way out. I aim ta end it right quick.”

  Robert came out of the stall. “Mr. Puget Uh, you can put the shotgun down. I’m out, an’ I’m going to leave.”

  Ingersoll snarled, “You think you gettin’ away with carryin’ on with me wife? No shurrif goin’ to arrest me fer killin’ the county’s worst sinner, an’ plenty o’ husbands’ll gladly know they wives an’ daughters be safe from ye.” He raised the shotgun to his shoulder.

  Robert thrust his hands out. “Sir, Mr. Puget, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, please just let me be. I’ll go, I’ll confess, I’ll make it right, I’ll never speak to your wife again, I swear. Please, just let me go!”

  “Damn right ye ain’t. Ye ain’t gonna talk to no one ag’in.” Ingersoll Puget cocked the first barrel of the shotgun and took aim.

  Robert, eyes wide and cornered, knew the only accessible and nearest exit was behind Puget. He took off at a dead run as Puget fired the first barrel, blowing into the rear of his barn and tearing up a saddle that was sitting on a rail.

  “Damn ye, boy!” Puget called as he cocked the second barrel and ran after his prey.

  Robert ran as hard as he could. This was all a dream, a bad dream. He must be asleep in the east field and dreaming this.

  “See ye in hell, boy!” Puget yelled and fired his second barrel.

  Robert fell as his legs, or what should have been legs, failed him. He came face-to-face with dirt. Rising up he tried to stand, but his legs didn’t respond. Feeling his rear, his back, he drew back bloody hands. It was incredible. He felt nothing, but he drew back wetness. His arms still worked, and he grabbed for grass to pull himself forward.

  “Where do ye think yer going?” Ingersoll asked with a sneer. “I meant it to be quick, but this is on ye. This is fer carryin’ on with my wife.” Ingersoll spat on him. “Now, off my property.” He grabbed Robert by the arms and dragged him to the road. “You die before someone find ye, I catched ye sneakin’ onto my farm to rape my wife, an’ I kilt ye afore ye could set foot. Ye don’t die afore, it’ll be my word agi’n ye.”

  With that, Puget walked back onto his property and disappeared into his home.

  Robert still couldn’t feel anything at all, but he could barely move, and he was getting dizzy. Perhaps he would soon wake up, and the dream would be over.

  ****

  Philip sat in his father’s receiving room reading the newspaper, but his mind was on what he was going to ask Lee Harper in their interview. He’d asked for it, but he wasn’t really sure what he was looking for in the way of answers. If he wanted to disqualify Lee, he could think of a hundred different questions to ask the man about issues of faith or of action. But was that really his role in this, to disqualify? His father and Paul were out, and he had the house to himself.

  The paper, The Columbus Dispatch, was full of editorials egging the administration in Washington to invade the South and get the rebellion over with, egging the Dennison administration to invade Kentucky with the militia and secure the waterway of Rebel boats that might choose to land and invade Cincinnati, and egging Ohio’s menfolk to volunteer for service. There seemed to be little use in egging volunteers on when the quota for Ohio had been filled early and even turned latecomers away. Now those volunteers were cooling their heels in several camps doing nothing, hence the calls for some action.

  The sounds of a wagon pulling up drew his attention to the window. Lee Harper was running up the short walk to the front door and had bounded up the steps before Philip could get to the door. Bursting in, Lee yelled, “Come quick, Parson; Robert’s been shot!”

  “Shot? By whom? Did you send for the doctor? Why do you need me?”

  Lee waved off the questions and hurried out the door. Philip followed, and
they were soon rattling down the road at a jarring pace.

  “Old man Puget shot Robert in the back, left him on the roadside to die,” Lee shouted above the noise of the wagon and clopping of the horses.

  “Why?”

  “Never mind why,” Lee shot back. “Robert’s dying, and Mother wants you to tend to his dying moments or some such.”

  “Did you ask him why?”

  “No I didn’t, so drop it, Parson!” Lee snapped.

  “Was he caught with Ingersoll’s wife?”

  “No; yes; I think that’s what Puget’s claiming, but what’s it matter? It’s my brother, an’ he’s been shot in cold blood!” Lee slapped hard on the reins.

  “Because he has some things to deal with if he’s still alive, and you and your father have some things to answer for. Did you know he was doing these things?” Philip held on tightly as the team picked up speed.

  “Damnit, Parson! Just shut up about it! What do it matter?”

  “It matters if you knew and did nothing about it, you and your father.”

  “Father didn’t know! Father never knew anything we done.”

  “But you knew—you knew what Robert was doing? And those were not all rumors, especially with Mrs. Puget were they? Did you try to stop him?”

  “Yes, I knew, or suspected. No, I didn’t do nothing to stop him. He was old enough to make his own choices!” Lee gave the reins another hard slap.

  Before the team could come to a halt, Lee jumped out of the seat and ran into the house. Elizabeth was seated on the porch crying, but before Philip could make it to the first step, Lee came back through the door and halted, looking down at his feet a moment. “Mother says he died a little bit ago.”

  Philip hesitated before taking the three steps leading to the porch. “I’m sorry I was not here soon enough,” he mumbled as he drew past Lee and entered the house.