Songs the Soldiers Sang

by Bette McNicholas

  Laurel enjoyed the walk through the Library of Congress that had now been rebuilt with cast iron shelves, after a fire in 1851 had gutted that part of the building. The desks in the room were covered with stacks of books and bagged items crowded large areas of the marble floor.

  As soon as Holt completed his work and joined Laurel, she thanked her guide and expressed the desire to perhaps return one day to complete her tour.

  She took Holt’s arm and remarked, “This is a fascinating building. I realized in the short time I’ve been here, that I lived a rather sheltered life on the Sea Islands. If not for the war and my being forced to leave home, I doubt I ever would have learned all this history. Thank you.”

  Holt smiled and nodded. “Hungry?”

  “Always.”

  “Then I am going to take you to the most prestigious place in the city, second only to the White House. At the Willards Hotel we will dine with the men who have been entrusted to run this country. Why don’t we leave the carriage here and walk, if you don’t mind.”

  “No, I’d like that,” she said, smiling. They chatted mostly about the city and architecture on their stroll to the hotel.

  Upon entering the hotel dining room, Laurel sensed the immediate importance of being there. The room exuded an atmosphere that she had only imagined when she glimpsed at drawings or cartoons in magazines and newspapers. The smell of whiskey, cigar smoke, and leather, mingled with the aromas created by the chef, caused her to close her eyes and take a deep breath.

  She and Holt were escorted to their table, and he acknowledged some of the occupants and bowed his head to the few women who were also there.

  The room seethed with energy and conversation, bustling waiters, the tinkling of glasses and clanging of silverware. This was certainly a man’s room and being there with Holt gave her a peek into his status among the distinguished occupants of the city.

  “You seem rather reserved, Laurel. Are you all right?”

  She grinned, smoothing the napkin on her lap. “Yes, thank you. I’m fine. I suppose I am feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not certain I can explain, but I’ll try. Although I realize that I grew up being a young girl of privilege, the last five years quickly erased those memories. I know how to conduct myself in public, well, most of the time,” she added, blushing.

  “Then I don’t understand why you’re feeling overwhelmed being here.”

  Laurel paused while the waiter served their soup and rolls before continuing. “Being in the Capitol, and here in this room,” she said, looking around, “makes one aware of the importance of the history being made. The future of this country, reconstruction of the devastated lands and solving the dilemma of the economic crisis the war brought, especially to the South, and of course, slavery is being discussed in this city and in this room.”

  Holt shook his head. “But…”

  “But in all of the states, individuals like me are only concerned with how to feed their families, how to rebuild their homes and put their lives back together. They are desperate. None of this,” she gestured, “holds any importance for us. Simply because we survived, doesn’t mean we will be able to pick up where we left off before the war.”

  “For someone as young as you, you certainly have learned the importance of life. While this room and this city hold the future of our nation, and you recognize that quite clearly, you recognize the substantial predicaments the ordinary citizen faces.” Holt inserted.

  She leaned closer to him and whispered, “In all of the homes where Junie and I stayed, I took books with me whenever we were forced to desert the premises. Unfortunately, I had to leave some of them behind from time to time depending on how fast we had to run, but at least I was able to educate myself.”

  “I’d say you did a great job.”

  While she ate her chowder, Laurel listened to Holt. For the first time since they met, he began to remove a layer of himself and expose some of his own thoughts.

  “You and I are not so different, you know. When I was young and in love, I felt I had the world at my disposal. I actually believed I would live out my life being happy and having a successful career, perhaps running for the Senate one day. Certainly nothing I suffered can compare to the life you’ve had to lead alone,” he said, buttering a roll.

  “However, the war has affected us both and in different ways, but now I need to start over and rebuild a secure life for my daughter. And while I don’t have to endure a financial crisis, I have to embark on a new career and learn the fundamentals of running a rice plantation. You are searching for your father and I am hiding my daughter from her mother whom I believe will return to haunt us.”

  Holt didn’t have to verbally express the pain and heartache his former wife caused him. Laurel heard the hurt in his voice and saw the sadness in his eyes. He lifted his glass of wine, and they touched their glasses in a toast. “To the fates that brought us together. To friendship,” he finished.

  After taking a sip, she asked, “Have you ever had a woman friend before, Holt?”

  “I suppose I thought I had, but you make me feel wanted and needed without being demanding. I only hope I can remain worthy of your friendship.”

  Laurel reached over and touched his hand. “I honestly don’t know how I would have accomplished any of this if I hadn’t met you. I felt drained and uncertain about my life and I have Junie to worry about and take care of now. I was literally falling apart inside and struggling to pretend I wasn’t when I met you.

  “Even if you didn’t have the means or know-how to help me, I believe we’d still be friends because you were there when I was at my lowest. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years until that afternoon you came into Arielle’s room and thought of me as a showgirl, or perhaps a lady of the night.”

  They laughed together while the waiter brought their meal, then Holt said, “Oh! Now you’ve turned a chivalrous act of helping you button your gown and maybe wanting to steal a kiss, into an illicit purpose?”

  “Don’t you think my version adds more drama?”

  “Most definitely,” he nodded in agreement, “but please don’t tell my family. I will be disowned if they believe I disgraced you in any way.”

  “I sincerely doubt that. Your family adores you.” Removing her hand from his, she paused a moment while shivers ran through her body from the mere touch of his skin. Before she spoke, she whispered, “That incident on the riverboat, while innocent was pleasurable, and the feeling as well as the memory will live with me forever.”

  “I can say with confidence that you will have many occasions in your life that will prove to be much more noteworthy,” he responded, giving her a wink that she interpreted to mean he’d be involved.

  Only days before, this moment between them would have been awkward, but now that he had exposed his vulnerabilities to her, she no longer felt embarrassed. They’d reached a moment in their relationship that emboldened their feelings, without speaking a word, without thinking of any consequences. A moment where they no longer cared if they were entering a dangerous plateau. They were both lonely and longed not only for one another, but what they gave each other—all that was missing in their lives.

  He reached for her hand and held onto her, and Laurel smiled, her cheeks heated, but she didn’t remove her gaze from his. Through his touch she allowed him to invade her senses with the love that matched hers. There was no reason to speak. The fact that they had fallen in love was acknowledged in silence and would remain locked in their private thoughts.

  They finished their lunch and continued talking and learning as much as they could about one another. They paralleled their lives up to the moment they met and deepened their friendship beyond their imaginations.

  After they left the hotel, they walked along the Mall, still sharing their most intimate thoughts, and returned to retrieve the carriage. Their relationship had privately gone beyond a certain level and although dangerously forbidden, at lea
st she was satisfied with the implication their romance was left open for exploration. The long walk back to the Capitol turned brisk when the weather became windy and dark gray clouds moved across the sky, covering the sun. Laurel thought the chill helped cool her amorous passions for Holt. She dared not ask him how he felt.

  By the time they returned to his home, they were somehow able to carry on their conversations in a true cordial and businesslike manner that even Junie wouldn’t be able to notice any change in their relationship, or else Laurel was certain she would have had her say on the matter.

  They related their experiences of the day at the Capitol and Laurel expounded on her tour. After supper they played games with Jacqueline and when she begged Laurel to read her a story before she went to sleep, Laurel followed her to her room as demurely as a nanny.

  Afterward, Laurel and Holt sat in the living room with his family and discussed the plans to continue the search for her father, and her plans to move into her grandparents’ home.

  They finally agreed to move Jacqueline and Catherine to the plantation in South Carolina, where George would be able to look after them, and before they left on their journey, Holt offered to take Laurel and Junie to their home in Maryland.

  Holt and Laurel were up early the following day, and she traveled with him to his home in Rockville to help him pack the belongings he and Jacqueline would need to take on their trip south and to also make arrangements for his home to be put up for sale and have the furniture delivered to the plantation immediately.

  Laurel enjoyed their trip to Rockville and her chance to see the lush farms and estates in the countryside. Holt’s home sat back from the main thoroughfare down a long, winding road lined on both sides with huge pine trees, allowing a lot of privacy, and except for the peak in the roof, the mansion was mostly hidden from view.

  Wondering why he was desperate to move away, she asked, “Do you think Monique would have been able to find you here?”

  “Probably not, but she knows where my mother lives and I can easily be found through my work at the War Department. I can’t chance her following me to the estate and coming out here one day when I’m not at home, and possibly kidnapping Jacqueline.”

  “I wouldn’t even have entertained a thought that she might do something that horrible. How could she simply show up after seven years and expect to be able to take Jacqueline away from you?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, shaking his head, “but I don’t trust her and I have a feeling…”

  “Now you’re beginning to sound like me.”

  ****

  Ruth and Charles Caldwell, the couple who lived in the caretaker’s cottage on the estate, were surprised by the unexpected visit, but within minutes of their arrival, had unlocked the mansion, opened draperies to admit some daylight on this partially cloudy day, and lit fireplaces to help warm the house.

  During a quick lunch, Laurel learned that the Caldwell’s planned to move to South Carolina, as soon as the furniture was crated and sent to Baltimore to be shipped. Laurel was taken to Jacqueline’s room where she carefully folded her clothes and packed them neatly in the valises, while Holt went to his room to pack his clothing.

  Engrossed in packing the last of Jacqueline’s things, she didn’t hear Holt come into the room, until he slipped his arms around her waist from behind, moved her hair off her neck and kissed her. Her body felt as though she had turned to liquid.

  “If I were free to marry you in the Church,” he whispered, “we could spend romantic nights together, all alone.”

  Laurel turned in his embrace and faced him. “We still can.”

  Before he could reply, Charles called to them. Holt quickly closed up the valises by the time Charles entered the room.

  He had come to warn them that the clouds rolling in threatened to bring an early snowstorm and suggested perhaps they should leave as soon as possible.

  By the time they were prepared to leave, the skies had darkened and in a short time, completely hid the sun. The air had become heavy and damp. And within a few minutes, the men had the carriage loaded and Holt handed the Caldwell’s written instructions on what needed to be done to prepare for the move and promised he’d see them as soon as he returned from his trip.

  Ruth had filled a jar with hot chocolate and packed some sandwiches for the road. Holt grabbed several heavy blankets and a lantern from the house, while Charles hitched the horses.

  They said a quick goodbye and hurried to get to the main road, where traffic would prevent the expected snow from accumulating as quickly as it might on the lawns and shrubbery. Laurel put the blankets over their laps and sat close to Holt to help stay warm on the way back to Georgetown. She quivered from the cold and chatted with excitement at the same time, keeping Holt amused.

  The first flakes evaporated in mid-air before Laurel could catch one, but within a short while, the snow fell faster and faster hampering the visibility. Soon the large flakes started sticking to the ground and she was able to catch one on her tongue.

  “This is an early and unusual snow for this time of year,” Holt said. “By tomorrow morning the snow will have melted, so enjoy today.”

  Laurel was in awe by how beautiful the trees and shrubberies were with patches of snow that appeared as though someone had placed them there. She watched with amusement, bright red cardinals, chirping noisily, and blue jays that squawked, fly in and out of the trees gathering food.

  After she had eaten, she held the reins while Holt ate and drank some now cool chocolate. He stopped the carriage for a moment to brush away some of the snow and Laurel helped him spread a blanket across the horses backs. The wind picked up and Holt expressed his concern about getting home before the snow made traveling impossible.

  Holt put his arm around Laurel to help her back in the carriage and smiled, “You have rosy cheeks.” He wiped a snowflake off her nose with his finger. “I find myself unable to resist the temptation.” He bent down and kissed her.

  He tasted her bottom lip, and she felt his chest fill, hopefully with desire and the love they both tried to keep buried. She melted in his arms and responded to his kiss at the same time. But once again, he pulled away. “We have to hurry and get home before the snow gets too deep.”

  Laurel ran her tongue tentatively across her mouth not wanting to erase the sensations she felt, but wanting to savor the taste of his lips. She bundled the blankets around them and stayed close to his body, not only to keep warm, but also to silently breathe in his scent. She remained silent, reliving the kiss and the embrace, feeling her cheeks heat as she stole glances of him while he concentrated on getting them home safely. Looking at him warmed her insides and made her smile. She wanted to remember every moment they were together because they’d have to last her for the rest of her life.

  Evening had fallen by the time they finally arrived in Georgetown, and Laurel remarked about how beautiful the city appeared, blanketed in the freshly fallen snow. The carriage and valises were left in the barn with the horses that they quickly released from the harnesses, brushed and fed before hurrying into the house.

  They were chilled to the bone and wasted no time rushing to their rooms changing into warm, dry clothing and hurrying down to dinner, sitting with their backs to the fireplace to keep away the lingering chill, and they were more than delighted that his family had waited dinner for them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Georgetown

  Several days later, with the wagon filled with belongings, and the household items that Laurel had purchased, they were ready to leave for Maryland.

  Holt’s mother hugged Laurel and wished her success in finding her father and establishing a bed and breakfast. “I have a feeling I’ll see you again soon, too.”

  “I’d like that, Mrs. Flanagan. Thank you for having us.”

  “A pleasure, dear.”

  Junie was seated in the back of the wagon on a mattress, propped up comfortably against some pillows, where she’d be more co
mfortable there than being joggled up and down on the bench.

  The trip to Chesapeake City wasn’t a long one, and while Junie slept, Laurel was thankful for the extra time she had to be with Holt.

  “When did you inherit this house from your father’s parents?” Holt asked.

  “My grandfather died around the time my mother became extremely ill with malaria, and I remember feeling terrible because we didn’t get to visit them that summer. And after we learned of his death, life seemed to deliver one shock after another.” Laurel caught Holt’s gaze with her own.

  “Is that when your mother died?”

  “Yes. I sent word to my father as soon as we heard his father had died and begged him to come home because by that time, my mother told me she didn’t think she’d get better, and I realized she was near death.”

  Laurel sighed, and Holt reached for her hand. “You don’t have to put yourself through this agony, for me. I’m sure the memories are as difficult as they were at the time of her death.”

  “That’s true, but I need to deal with the grief.” She attempted a slight smile and continued, “Before my father left Virginia, word had reached him that his mother had passed away also, but he was in such a hurry to come home, he barely had time to wire the attorney with instructions for her burial. And, he didn’t arrive home in time to see mother.”

  “I’m sorry, Laurel. I remember how the death of my dad affected my family, and still does in many ways.”

  “We have both suffered great losses. My father was inconsolable, and I worried about him having to leave home immediately after mother’s burial.”

  “What did he tell you when he left to go back to his troop?”

  “He said he wouldn’t be gone very long. He planned to resign his commission and come back to South Carolina to look after the plantation and me.”

  “Yet, he never made his way back.”

  Laurel simply shook her head.