Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells

by Gilbert, Morris

  Colin was a short young man of twenty, not as smart as his brothers, but very likable. He was a brash young fellow, saying whatever came into his mind, and now as he looked at his Aunt Melanie, he blurted out, “Aunt Melanie, I suppose you’re glad you didn’t marry that Rebel, aren’t you?”

  A dead silence fell on the table, and Colin flushed. He tried to patch up the damage his remark had wrought by stammering, “I mean—well, after all, if you’d married Cousin Clay when him and Uncle Gid were courting you, why, you’d be down in Richmond about to take a licking from us, wouldn’t you?”

  Never had Gid Rocklin admired his wife more, for she showed no sign of the agitation she must have felt. Instead she smiled at her nephew, saying, “Colin, Clay Rocklin is a fine man. But there was no man for me but your uncle.”

  As Melanie spoke, the painful memories of her courtship came back to her. She had been courted by Clay Rocklin, the son of Thomas and Susanna Rocklin, and had fancied herself in love with him. She had thought at one time that she would marry Clay, become mistress of Gracefield Plantation, and reign in Richmond society. Then Gideon had come into her life, and she had fallen in love with him. Never for one moment had she regretted her choice, but she did grieve over the way her marriage to Gid had affected Clay.

  As a young man, Clay Rocklin had been strong and handsome, with all the natural gifts one could desire. But he had been completely undisciplined, unable to control his passions. When Melanie had refused him, he had married her cousin Ellen Benton, and they had known nothing but unhappiness together. Clay had tried many things to resolve his restlessness, including joining Gideon’s company during the Mexican War—but that, too, had been a failure. Dishonorably discharged from the army, Clay had disappeared without a trace for years. He had returned about two years ago, but from what Gideon and Melanie could discover, he was still not happy with his marriage.

  Colin’s hapless question reminded the entire family of the situation. It was Pat, the Steeles’ twenty-one-year-old son, who suddenly asked, “What will they do, Uncle Gideon? Our family at Gracefield?”

  Gideon gave the tall young man a careful glance. Pat had the same intensity as his father, along with the same hazel eyes and sharp features. “They’ll do what we’ll do, Pat,” he said. “Fight for what they think is right.” He added heavily, “Clay won’t serve in the army. He seems to have mixed feelings about the war. Melanie got a letter from Clay’s mother, Susanna, last week.”

  “She said,” Melanie spoke up, “that Clay was very unpopular, that anyone who questioned the war was being persecuted.” She gave Deborah a glance, then added, “What makes it worse is that Clay’s son Denton is a lieutenant in the Confederate Army.”

  At this, everyone at the table stared at Deborah, for they were all aware that she and Dent Rocklin had been in love—or at least that Dent had courted Deborah while she was in Richmond. Deborah’s cheeks reddened, but she said only, “Yes, I got a letter from Uncle Clay’s daughter, Rena. She’s only fifteen, but we grew very close while I visited there.”

  “I hate to think of it,” Laura Steele said. She was Gideon’s only sister, and the two were very close. She was a small woman with a wealth of auburn hair and a round face. A thought came to her, and she gave her brother a startled look. “Gid, you might have to fight Denton.”

  “I hope not.” Gid Rocklin’s face was sober and his eyes hooded as he looked down. It was something that he knew would become a burning issue in many families. “Even so, I must do my duty.”

  “Exactly right!” Pat Steele spoke up so loudly that they all turned to look at him. Pat gave his father a direct look. Then, lifting his head in a stubborn gesture, he said, “I guess this is as good a time as any to let you all know …. I joined the Washington Blues this morning.”

  Amos Steele blinked, caught completely off guard. His lips grew white, and he said sharply, “I don’t recall that we talked about your decision.”

  “Yes, sir, we talked about it,” Pat said quietly. “I said I wanted to join the army, and you said I couldn’t. That was the whole discussion, sir.” He was a handsome young man with a firm will, but it was the first time he had ever directly disobeyed his father.

  “We’ll talk about it at a more convenient time,” Steele said sharply.

  “Sir, I’m twenty-one years of age,” Pat said stubbornly. “We can discuss the future, but I will be leaving in the morning to take my place with my company.”

  Tyler Rocklin had observed the clash between his cousin and his uncle silently, but now he gave his parents a steady look, then said, “Father, Mother, I’d planned to talk to you tonight when we got home.”

  Gid suddenly felt a warning go off in his spirit. He glanced at his son, then at Melanie. Slowly he asked, “Have you joined the army, too, son?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t. But I want your permission to join the New York Fire Zouaves.”

  “That’s Colonel Ellsworth’s unit, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s come to Washington at President Lincoln’s request. I want to join his regiment.”

  Colonel Elmer E. Ellsworth, a favorite of Lincoln’s, had been busy for several years organizing his unit. The men were wonderful at close-order drill, and Ellsworth, though he had absolutely no military experience, was a fine organizer. With Lincoln’s support, he was becoming a nationally known figure.

  Gideon Rocklin was too wise a man to make an issue of the matter. He said only, “Ellsworth’s unit might not be the best choice, Tyler. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow and we can see what’s available.”

  Tyler nodded at once, relief washing over his face. “I’d like that very much, sir,” he said.

  The suddenness of this news had taken both sets of parents unaware, though they had expected that the young men would eventually want to go. After the Rocklins left, Amos went to his study with Pat. Colin said to his sister, “Boy, I’ll bet Pat’s catching it!”

  “I hope not,” Deborah said quietly. “Pat’s determined on this thing, and the more anyone tries to change him, the more stubborn he’s going to get.”

  Colin thought about it, then said, “I may enlist myself. I’m twenty, the same age as Tyler. Maybe I will.”

  “You’re too lazy,” Deborah said. “Do you think your sergeant will fix your breakfast like Mother and I do?”

  Colin grinned at her, then came over and squeezed her till she gasped. “I’ll take you along, Deb. I heard that some of the Rebs are taking their black servants along to wait on them while they’re in the army. I’ll just take you along. You can press my clothes and cook for me.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Deborah tried to pull away from him, but he held to her tightly. “Let me go, you monster!” The two of them wrestled around the dining room, joyfully laughing. Colin was the best-natured of Deborah’s brothers, the one with whom she had played as a child. Now she gave him a hug and a kiss. “Don’t enlist, Colin,” she said, a serious look in her large violet eyes. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you!”

  “Oh, shoot!” he grumbled, embarrassed by her concern. “No ol’ Rebel’s going to hurt me!” Then he gave her a curious look. “What about you and Dent? You still going to let him court you?”

  Deborah pulled away from him, her face growing tense. “He won’t be thinking about me now, Colin,” she said quietly.

  Colin stared at her, his large blue eyes considering her. “Bet he will, Deb,” he said quietly. “Any man would be a fool to give you up!”

  Deborah quickly kissed him, then ran from the room, saying, “Don’t you sign up, Colin! You’d be miserable!”

  “Come on along, Deborah. You might find yourself a handsome beau to come courting!”

  So Pat had said to Deborah on the first day of May 1861. He was getting ready to head for his camp. His excitement and enthusiasm had infected his sister.

  “All right, Pat,” Deborah said at once, and the two of them had left the house after breakfast. On the
way she asked tentatively, “Was your talk with Daddy very bad, Pat?”

  He considered the question for a few moments, then shook his head. “You know, Deb, it wasn’t all that bad. Oh, he was hurt because I enlisted without talking it over with him, but he seemed all right.” He glanced out at the streets, which seemed to be filled already with busy people. Then he said slowly, “I think he feels that he hasn’t been a good father to us. He said he wished he’d spent more time with all of us. But I guess it’s too late for that.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Deborah said at once. “It won’t be easy, but you’ve got to make an effort. All of us do.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that.” The two of them had not been close, but now that he was leaving, Pat felt somewhat nervous and spoke with vigor of how wonderful the army was going to be. There was, Deborah sensed, an apprehension in him, and she did her best to encourage him.

  As soon as they got to the camp—a large area filled with parade grounds full of drilling men and a small city of Sibley tents in neat rows—they got directions and made their way to regimental headquarters. Inside the large tent, they found that the commanding officer and his adjutant were present, but not in the happiest of moods.

  Colonel Bradford’s face was flushed when he turned to greet the visitors, and it was obvious that he was not happy. He greeted them with a smile that seemed forced, saying, “Well now, this is a pleasant surprise!” When Pat informed him that he’d come to volunteer, Bradford said, “Well, I’m pleased, of course. Did you recruit this young fellow, Miss Rocklin?”

  “No, I can’t claim any credit for it, Colonel.” Deborah smiled. “It was all his own idea. But I came along to see that you give him the best of treatment.”

  “Private Steele, you couldn’t have picked a better advocate,”

  Bradford said. “What company do you suggest, Major Rocklin?”

  “A Company might be the best, Colonel,” Gideon said at once. “Captain Frost is pretty hard-nosed, but he’s a professional.”

  The remark, both Pat and Deborah saw, irritated Bradford. He snorted impatiently, saying, “Oh, Major, you’ve got a fixation on the Regular Army! You don’t give the militia and the volunteers a chance. But you’ll see what fine fellows we have soon enough.”

  Gideon started to speak but then seemed to change his mind. “Shall I take Private Steele to his new company?”

  “Yes, do that, Major,” Bradford said. “I’ll take Miss Steele out to see some of the drill.”

  Gideon said, “Come along, Private,” and the two left the tent. Soon Pat was being introduced to Captain Hiram Frost, a hard-bitten individual of forty-five. “Captain Frost will be watching you very closely, Private,” Gideon said. “Captain, I know you will make a good soldier out of my nephew.”

  Frost nodded slightly, then turned to a bull-shouldered soldier who was wearing sergeant’s chevrons. “Sergeant Cobb, take Private Steele to the commissary. Get his equipment; then get him settled in. Put him in Lieutenant Monroe’s platoon.”

  “Yes, sir.” Frost waited until the pair had left, then asked abruptly, as was his manner, “Well, Major, did you make any headway with the colonel?”

  “Afraid not, Captain,” Gideon said, shaking his head. He and the captain—who was an ex-lobsterman from Maine turned Indian fighter—had been unhappy with the training of the men. Both of them wanted to see less close-order drill and more marching and firing practice. “I tried to talk to him just now, but he won’t hear of it.”

  The captain rested his weight on one foot and stood there, a heavy shape in the morning sun. There was a ponderous quality about him that made him seem slow of thought, but his friends soon learned that once he did make up his mind, he could act as fast as any man in the army. Now he added, “The men like it, all the exhibitions in the city. It’s flashy enough. But the first time one of them drops with a Rebel’s minié ball in his gut, all those fancy drills won’t help them much.”

  While the two men were speaking, Bradford was explaining the situation to Deborah. The two of them were walking along the dusty lanes between two large fields, and he pointed out the fine execution of the men as they drilled. “Your uncle and I have had a bit of a disagreement over the training of the men,” he had explained. “Now, he knows the army, but I think I know something about what makes men tick. He wants to toughen them up with long forced marches and short rations. Well, that’s important, of course. But I know what’s equally important, and that’s pride.” His eyes flashed, and he looked very handsome in his blue uniform.

  Finally he smiled, slightly embarrassed, saying, “I expect you think I’m very opinionated, don’t you, Deborah?”

  Deborah said quickly, “I think you’re both right. You need both qualities. I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out.” She looked around at the men, then up at him. “You must be very proud, Larry. This is a fine thing you’re doing.”

  Bradford was used to the praise of women, but his eyes lit up at her compliment. He would have spoken, but just then a lieutenant came to say, “Sir, the meeting with the staff—?”

  Irritation swept across Bradford’s face, but he said, “Oh, blast! Deborah, I’ve got to speak to my staff. I won’t be long. Would you like to go back to my headquarters?”

  “No, I’ll just watch the drill.” She saw that he didn’t like to leave her, but when he did turn on his heel and leave the drill ground, she felt more at ease. For a time she watched the lines move across the dry grounds, raising clouds of dust as they performed their intricate maneuvers.

  Then as she began to walk slowly down the dusty pathways, a sergeant came toward her. “The colonel said you can get out of the sun if you like, miss,” he told her.

  “Oh, I’m fine, Sergeant.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you know where A Company is? My brother is with them.”

  “Come along, miss,” he said, his eyes filled with admiration for her. “I’ll take you to their area.”

  He led Deborah through the labyrinth of tents. Finally he stopped. “There’s Captain Frost’s tent. He’ll be glad to help you.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.” Deborah smiled at the young man, who at once fell in love with her; then she turned and walked toward the tent. She passed along the line of tents and was surprised when one of the soldiers working with a detail called out to her, “Miss Steele—?”

  She turned. Noel Kojak was standing a few feet away, an ax in his hand. At once she exclaimed, “Why, it’s you!” She went to him with a smile on her face and, without thinking, held out her hands to him.

  Noel blinked with alarm but took her hands, releasing them almost at once, aware that his fellow soldiers were not missing any of the action. “Noel, are you in A Company?”

  “Yes, I am, Miss Steele.”

  She smiled at him, exclaiming with delight, “My brother will be with you. His name is Pat, Noel. You two will have to become friends.”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” Noel was wearing a blue uniform and had a forage cap pulled down almost over his eyes. He was watching her with a pair of warm gray eyes and said at once, “I got word from my mother about the money you sent, Miss Steele. It was such a help, she said.”

  Deborah said uncomfortably, “Oh, Noel, it was nothing.”

  “That’s not so,” he insisted. “It means a lot.”

  Deborah changed the subject. “How do you like the army?”

  He laughed at that. “It’s easier than working in the plant. Good food and not much work.”

  The two of them stood there talking, Noel forgetting that he was on a work detail, lost in the pleasure of her company. She was wearing a pale blue dress with a white bonnet that framed her heart-shaped face. She was so pretty that he had to remind himself not to stare—but could not seem to help himself. He had thought about her constantly, though he had not said a word about her to anyone in his platoon.

  Deborah was enjoying the moment. It pleased her to think that Pat would be in the same company as Noel. She had said little t
o anyone about what she was doing, but resolved to ask her brother to befriend Noel.

  Finally he said, “I’m worried about Ma. She’s been sick. I hope it isn’t this flu that’s got everybody down. Some families are hard hit. Everyone down at the same time.”

  The two of them were so lost in conversation that neither of them heard the approach of Bradford, who came up to say, “Well, here you are, Miss Steele. I thought you were lost.”

  “Oh no, Colonel,” Deborah said, turning with a smile. “I came over to meet my brother’s captain—and I found an old friend. You must remember Noel Kojak? He was one of the men who worked in my grandfather’s factory.”

  “Yes, of course.” Bradford gave Noel a brief nod, then took Deborah’s arm. “Come along, I’ll introduce you to your brother’s officer.”

  “Thanks again, Miss Steele,” Noel called out as the two left. Then he went back to the woodpile.

  Manny Zale, a hard-faced man of twenty-seven, was waiting for Noel, a grin on his thick lips. “Hey now, Kojak. I didn’t know you moved in such high company. Who’s the doll?” When Noel just shook his head, Zale grabbed the younger man by the arm, his hand closing like a vise. “You psalm singer! Don’t clam up on me! Who was she?” Zale had been the leader in the small group that made fun of Noel. They were a godless bunch, and when they discovered that Noel prayed and read the Bible, they had delighted in making his life as miserable as they could.

  Corporal Buck Riley had been watching what was happening between the two men and said at once, “Zale, if you got enough energy to do all that arguing, I’m glad to hear it. You can cut some more wood after dinner.”

  Zale turned angrily, but Riley was a tough one himself, so the burly private just muttered, “You won’t always have somebody around to baby you, Kojak!”

  Noel knew that he was in for a bad time down the road—Manny Zale had a vicious streak and seldom forgot offenses. But as Noel went back to chopping wood, he could think only of a pair of violet eyes.