by Marian Wells
“You don’t expect to be back?”
“Haven’t any idea,” he muttered, selecting an apple from the basket. He faced her in the dimness. “I’m just storing up things to remember. Don’t most people do that?”
“What will you remember about me?” Her eyes were wide and dark. He touched her cheek with a fingertip, grinned slowly and admitted, “That you are a puzzle and a tease. That you are beautiful and promised. Other than the bedraggled child I pulled out of Mississippi, what more could a fellow remember under the circumstances?”
“We’ve had good times together—the hayride.”
“And when I kissed you in the hay, Sadie scolded me.”
“You let me dump my problems on you.”
“And you let me kiss you again. Pretty Beth, china doll.”
There were tears on her face. “Oh, Mike; I’m afraid Roald won’t come back. He could be wounded or even dead. It’s been over a month since I’ve had a letter.”
“Beth,” he said heavily, “have you checked the lists in town? It’s silly to mourn when you’ve nothing except your own fears to feed your troubles.”
“Will you go with me? I need a big brother.”
He chewed his lip as he looked at her and thought, Big brother, as usual. He squared his shoulders, “Certainly, but now let’s get this milk up to Sadie. So old Alex is going to be a papa,” he mused as he followed Beth.
The evening settled in hot and muggy. It was too hot to sleep in the upstairs bedrooms. With doors and windows standing open and the mosquitoes coming in, everyone went out to sit on the veranda and steps. They watched moonlight bounce shining paths of light off the Ohio while clouds slid across the moon, one by one like silent troopers. They listened to frogs croaking and crickets chirping.
Amos said, “Mike, the newspapers make it sound as if thy boats are cleaning up the Mississippi right sharp.”
Mike said, “Have you heard of Charles Ellet?” Amos shook his head. “Well, I’ve told you about the gunboats; now there’s another tale to tell. Ever heard of the rams?”
Amos said, “Read in the newspaper about some on the east coast. Also said the Confederates had a few on the rivers in the west. Sounded like their effect is deadly. I’m not certain how they work.”
“It’s an old concept, used in Europe back before big guns. Steam-powered boats have made it practical again. Even more so since they’ve improved the boats, giving them more power.
“When I went back to Cairo, I found my bunch had an encounter with Confederate rams down by Fort Pillow. Our fellows didn’t fare too well. Came back with their tails between their legs, with the Rebels bragging the Yanks wouldn’t penetrate any farther down the Mississippi.
“Later I ran into Charles Ellet. He found me inspecting his rams and gave me a first-class introduction to the whole idea. Turns out he was getting ready to send them down the Mississippi, and said it was time to prove their worth. He was in the middle of hiring riverboat pilots to man these rams, so I got the job.
“It was June before we took them out. The theory is that a boat with a heavy reinforced prow can do more damage than shells. It’s a hit and run kind of operation—you just plain ram your boat into the enemy. Not the kind of maneuver you go into without first clearing all the dishes off the table.”
Amos chuckled. “It sounds like an idea young’uns would hatch just for the fun of it. The government is taking this seriously?”
“Mr. Ellet couldn’t interest the Union navy in his idea, but Secretary of War Stanton liked the sound of it. He made Ellet a colonel and sent him west. Well, Ellet rebuilt nine steamboats according to his plan. He loaded four of them up with us riverboat men and headed down the Mississippi. Might say we were looking for trouble.”
“So you were in it, then,” Alex said. “It does sound interesting.”
“More’n interesting,” Mike admitted. “The Confederates were in Memphis, moved in there with their fleet. Then Ellet arrived on the scene. There were five Union ironclads and four of Ellet’s boats.
“Just before we entered the harbor, the Rebels steamed out to meet us. And we had an audience. Above us on the bluff, most of Memphis came to cheer on the Confederates.” Beth was watching Mike, and he paused to grin at her.
“It was something,” he admitted. “Ellet started his boats downriver at about fifteen knots. They were holding that speed when they met the Rebels. We heard later that the shock of the collision between Ellet’s boats and the Confederate rams could be felt up on the bluffs.
“Colonel Ellet, in the first boat, collided with a Confederate ram. His son Alfred squeezed his ram in between two Confederate’s heading for a hit on the old man. This caused them to collide with each other. Alfred circled around and hit the Rebel boat that survived the crash. About then the gunboats finished off the damaged Rebel boats, sank another, and captured three others.”
“You make it sound like a lark,” Beth whispered. “Was it really so?”
Mike shook his head. “No. It was a tragedy. Charles Ellet was shot and later died.”
“Oh, the poor man. It’s a shame to lose such a one.” With a sigh, Sadie got to her feet. “I’m going to bed before thee starts on another yarn. One more like that and my eyes’ll be stuck open all night.”
One by one the others followed. Mike continued to sit on the steps and Beth moved down beside him. He surveyed her sad face and waited.
“Are they still drilling recruits out in the pasture?”
“Yes, they bring fellows in from all over this end of Pennsylvania. Roald said the Pennsylvania regiments are getting a good reputation. Known as good fighters.”
“Where was Roald sent?”
“To fight with Fremont. Roald didn’t say where, but his letter was written from the East.” In a moment she added, “There was a Southern raid against Fremont in the Shenandoah Valley. I haven’t heard anything since.”
“Beth, I’m sorry. I suppose there’s nothing to be done except to tough it out. I’ll go with you tomorrow to check the lists.”
“Mike, why does God let all this happen? You know what Amos said to me this morning? He said I’d feel better if I went to meeting. How is that possible when God has been allowing this to happen? If He’s God, then He can stop this.”
“Beth,” Mike said helplessly, staring down at her tear-streaked face, “you’ve got to believe there are lasses on the other side of the line praying just as hard as you are that their men will come home.”
“Mike, you’re no comfort at all,” Beth cried. “Why men insist on fighting—why it is so enjoyable to them, I’ll never be able to understand. While you were talking about that battle with the rams, you and all the other fellows acted as if it were a great romp.” She jumped to her feet and headed for the door.
He reached the door first and blocked the way. “Beth, that isn’t fair. Come talk with me; at least let me explain my feelings about war.”
She shook her head and tried to push past him. He resisted for a moment, and then with a sigh, encircled her with his arms. “Okay, come on. I—”
Suddenly she threw her arms around him and cried against his chest. “Oh, Mike, don’t be angry with me; I can’t take much more of this.”
“I’m not angry. Right now I’m trying to behave like a gentleman,” he muttered, “and it doesn’t help a bit to have you, an engaged girl, draped all over me.”
She leaned back and stared up at him. “Mike, I’m not engaged to Roald. We’ve only talked about what might happen when he comes back.”
His arms relaxed. “You mean I still have a chance with you?”
She caught her breath. “Oh, Mike, please, let’s not talk about us. I’m too confused to know anything except that I’m worried about him. What I really need is—”
“A big brother,” he said dryly, dropping his arms.
“Well, I suppose now I’ll have to worry about you, too.”
“That would be nice.”
She hesitated, then st
retched on tiptoe and put her arms around his neck. “Mike, you are really the dearest person on earth. I like you so much, but please—”
Her soft warm lips were close. He groaned, turned his head, and found them. “Beth, I want you. I know I shouldn’t be talking like this now with Roald gone.”
She wilted into his arms, and with her tears drenching his shirt, he carried her to the rocking chair and held her on his lap until she stopped crying. When she finally smiled up at him, he wrapped his arms around her. “Beth, what are we going to do?”
She sat up, pushed away, and looked at him, “Do, Mike? You are a dear, sweet friend, a brother, and we’ll continue to be friends as long as we live. You rescued me. I won’t forget it. Thank you for letting me cry on you.” The door closed behind her.
Slowly Mike sat down on the steps, still overwhelmed with the memory of her softness, and muttered, “Brother!”
He wiped his hands wearily across his face. The crickets began their cheerful chorus. He thought about the kiss. Lord, I did it again. He thought of his resolve, and shame swept through him. Poor Roald. “As sure as I know my name, Lord,” he muttered, “I know You want me to concentrate on helping this girl, not kissing her and carrying on like a love-sick kid. When she gets close, I seem to forget all my good intentions.” He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I sure wouldn’t want a fella trying to take over my girl.” He stomped up the stairs to his room.
Chapter 24
Olivia watched as Beth walked up the lane to the Coopers’ house. With her head lowered, it seemed every step was an effort. She stopped at the gate and looked up.
“Missing; presumed captured,” Beth said briefly as she leaned wearily against the gate post. “For two weeks I’ve lived with it, and still it seems like an ugly dream.”
Olivia stood up. Clenching her hands, she fought with her own emotions and glanced quickly toward the Golden Awl before she left the veranda to walk out to meet Beth. “I’m sorry this has happened, Beth. But you mustn’t give up hope,” she insisted. “To be captured is at least a promise of life.”
“Mike said there’s a chance he’ll be exchanged.”
“Beth, I’ve read just recently that the cartel governing the exchange of prisoners has been renewed.”
“Why would they have to do that?”
Olivia shrugged. “I suppose it’s better that way. This cartel is based upon the agreement made between the United States and Great Britain in 1812. Prisoners are to be held no more than ten days, and exchange is made soldier for soldier, officer for officer.” She looked at Beth. “If he’s alive, you’ll probably hear from him very soon.”
“It’s been so long. There are only two days left in August, and I haven’t heard anything from him since the end of May.”
Olivia nodded slowly. Over Beth’s shoulder she saw Mike and Alex coming up the path from the boat. She fingered the brooch at the neckline of her frock as she watched Alex.
“Are you selling the boat?” Beth asked, turning to look toward the river.
“If we can find a buyer. There aren’t many who have money to spare, especially after the taxes Congress levied last month.” She wrinkled her nose and looked down at Beth. “Seems everything is taxed and over-taxed, but I suppose that’s to be expected. Something must be done to pay for this war.”
“I can’t find any virtue in war,” Beth said darkly.
“None of us can, not in any war. I don’t know how the men can face fighting.” Olivia sighed. “We can only hope there will be such a brokenness and healing that the country will survive.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“We’re a sick nation, selfish and uncaring,” Olivia said slowly. “At times I wonder if we’ll fight until we are nearly ruined. Certainly we deserve little help from God.”
“Do you think God cares much about what happens here?” Beth asked bitterly. “I don’t think He does. They talk about Him being a God of love. I have a very hard time believing that.”
Gravel crunched behind her. Beth turned and saw Alex and Mike approaching. She watched the expression in Alex’s eyes as he looked at his wife. When the two of them turned up the path to the house, Olivia tucked her hand through Alex’s arm and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. A knot twisted in Beth’s stomach.
“Look at them,” she said to Mike. “They act as if it’s been a week since they’ve seen each other.”
“Seems to me they must have almost a perfect marriage,” Mike said. “Been married four years, and they’re still like sweethearts. Guess it isn’t common to have that kind of marriage, but it makes a body wish it were.”
Beth nodded. “A fairy tale marriage—they live happily ever after. Sometimes I think it isn’t fair; people like that never have troubles.”
Mike’s glance was level, questioning. Abruptly he asked, “When are you going to sit down with me and tell me how it was to be raised in the South in a rich plantation family?”
She caught her breath. “I suppose when you can think of something besides kissing.” Mike chewed his lip thoughtfully before he followed Beth into the house.
****
As he prepared to leave three days later, Mike noticed the first touch of autumn in the air. The crispness seemed proper against the background of changing leaves and glowing asters in Sadie’s garden. He carefully closed the kitchen door behind himself just as Beth came out of the barn leading her horse.
“Thought I might as well give you a ride into town; that way you won’t need to worry about getting the mare home.”
“That’s mighty nice of you, Beth,” he said soberly, examining her face in the pale morning light. “But this means you’ll be getting to work at a very early hour.”
“I don’t mind. This is my favorite time of year, and I’ll just enjoy it.”
“Let’s get going.”
She reached for the horse. Mike took the reins from her, mounted the mare, and held out his arms. “Come on. One last time.”
After settling her skirts, she asked, “What do you mean one last time?”
“Well, I might not come back.”
She turned until she could see his face. “Mike, that’s nothing to joke about.”
“I’m not. I’m just facing the facts.”
“I’ve scarcely adjusted to the idea of Roald being gone, no doubt forever, and now you’re talking this way.”
“Do you care?”
“Of course I care, and you know it.”
“Beth, I think a lot of you. I know I’d be second best, but with Roald gone I want to see you taken care of. What if I ask you to marry me?” Hastily he added, “If and when I come back.”
“What if?” Her lips trembled.
“I’m asking right now. I want you to marry me when I come back—next month, or maybe the month after that. If I come back. How about it?”
“Mike, being married is for such a long time.”
“Or such a short time.”
She shuddered, turned, and rested her shoulders against him. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Beth, I guess I’ve loved you forever; at least it feels that way.” He tipped her chin so he could see her eyes, and then he bent to kiss her.
“Mike, I’m nearly afraid to say yes. If I say yes, you won’t come back. If we just leave it this way, then—”
“You will?” he finished her sentence. She nodded and pressed her face against his shoulder.
She waited at the station until the train gave one last, lonesome whistle. With a shiver she hurried back to the mare. Giving another glance toward the disappearing train, she sighed and murmured, “Forever is a long, long time.”
Chapter 25
When Beth came into the keeping room that September day, the wind was blowing briskly. Olivia stood at the window watching the trees bending southward to release their leaves. She turned when the door opened.
Smiling at Beth, she said, “With that hair as red as maple leaves, I expected you to be
airborne too. Bad day to be on horseback.”
“Worse for some of those buggies. Saw one turned over in the ditch.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“There wasn’t even a horse around. Might have had a broken wheel from going down the slope. I didn’t look closely; I was too busy hanging on to Mag.” She hung her shawl and pulled a crumpled newspaper from her satchel.
Going to the table she said, “I heard people talking about fighting in the East and decided to get the paper. Take a look for yourself. I’ve given up on Roald coming back—at least I think I have.”
Sadie came out of her bedroom. “The men are coming from the barn; guess I’ll push that roast over the fire and make some gravy.”
“What shall I do to help you?” Olivia murmured, opening the newspaper.
“Nothing for now. Might tell me what you’re reading,” she commented as Amos and Alex came into the room.
“They’re saying the lists of casualties are to be posted within the week,” Beth said. She sighed heavily. “Will someone please go with me to read them?”
“Better give them a few days to get them posted,” Alex advised. He sat down beside Olivia and looked at her, his eyebrows raised. She blushed under his scrutiny and said, “My clothes are getting too tight.”
“Let’s go shopping tomorrow.”
“Oh Alex, they don’t make dresses to fit me like this. Sadie’s sewing a jumper for me.”
His eyes twinkled and he peered over Olivia’s shoulder at the newspaper. “Must be a significant battle.”
Hesitantly Beth said, “I guess it’s a victory for the Federal Army.”
Amos lifted his head. “I hope so; after Bull Run, they need to start showing their mettle.”
“It’s McClellan again,” Alex said, his eyes still on the newspaper. “Sounds like things have gone wrong for him once more.”
Sadie came to the doorway. “What happened?”
“Seems, from the description of the battle, that something was terribly wrong.”
“The Union soldiers are said to be totally demoralized,” Beth interjected.
“I don’t believe it’s that. McClellan’s army outnumbered Lee’s with odds that should have brought victory.” Alex shoved away the newspaper and jumped to his feet.
