The Long Way Home

by Lauraine Snelling

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Richmond, Virginia

  Louisa found him. That’s all that mattered.

  ‘‘Lemme go.’’ The man on the buggy seat beside her thrashed at his invisible demons. Obviously he’d tried to drown them in whiskey and failed.

  So, Lord, what do I do now? How do I pay for this conveyance even? Zachary must have been on his way back to the hotel. That’s all she could figure.

  The driver stopped at the hotel she’d indicated and peered over his shoulder.

  ‘‘Could you help me, please?’’ She gritted her teeth. How was she to haul this sorry heap of humanity up to their room?

  ‘‘Yes ma’am.’’ The man climbed down and came around to Zachary’s side. ‘‘Here, sir, let me help you.’’

  ‘‘Are we there?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’ She blinked. How had he sobered up so quickly?

  Zachary dug in his watch pocket and handed the driver a dollar. ‘‘Keep the change.’’

  ‘‘Yes, sir.’’ With the driver assisting, Zachary gained his balance. Louisa followed as the two men made their way up the steps, through the lobby, and up to the room. With Zachary in the chair again, the driver tipped his hat and closed the door on his way out.

  ‘‘A driver will be here for us in the morning. Make sure you are ready,’’ Louisa said to her brother.

  He closed his eyes and refused to answer the questions that boiled within her.

  The Quakers had come to their assistance again.

  If Zachary remembered any of his dark nights of raving, he never alluded to them. And other than curt orders, he didn’t speak to Louisa again. Though taciturn, he was at least polite to those who assisted them.

  Louisa swung from anger to fury to hurt, clear to her deep insides. Over and over she pleaded with the Lord to repair the rent in their family, but Zachary refused to even look at her, as if she were a pariah or had leprosy.

  Throughout the trip home, while often she felt like hitting him with his crutch, she kept a gentle smile on her face and prayed for love and patience. Never was she happier to see Aunt Sylvania’s house and to crawl into her own clean bed.

  When Louisa woke after sleeping round the clock, she washed and washed again, dressed in clean clothes, and wandered out to the back veranda to visit with those gathered there.

  After returning the greetings, she asked her aunt, ‘‘Where’s Zachary?’’

  ‘‘Gone to work. He will be staying with Carrie Mae and her family now that they have moved into their new house. That way the poor boy won’t have to travel so far.’’

  Poor boy, my liver. Good thing Aunt Sylvania wasn’t a mind reader.

  But at the sweet smile on her aunt’s face, Louisa knew Zachary had said nothing about their ordeal.

  ‘‘I was getting so worried when you didn’t return as soon as you said you would.’’

  The statement obviously needed a reply. What should she say? Louisa cleared her throat and leaned close to her aunt’s chair. ‘‘We ran into some difficulties, but as you can see, we are all right now.’’ Or at least I am. Lord, only you know what’s on my brother’s heart.

  ‘‘I feared that. We all prayed for you, even our soldiers here. You haven’t met Charles, Corporal Saunderson yet.’’ She took Louisa by the arm. ‘‘Come meet him. He’s such a sweet boy.’’

  Louisa stopped at the chair where a man, all bones and angles, sat staring straight ahead. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. Tall and thin as he was, he reminded her of Lieutenant Lessling. Louisa couldn’t help thinking that a sweet boy he was not, as a deep, resonant voice answered her aunt’s question.

  ‘‘I am doing well, ma’am. You are not to worry.’’

  ‘‘I’d like you to meet my niece, just back from . . .’’ Aunt Sylvania glanced at Louisa, who stepped forward and touched the man on the shoulder.

  ‘‘I’m glad to welcome you to our home. I was . . . I mean, the trip took longer than I expected, or I would have been here to greet you.’’ She glanced over his body, looking for injuries but found none except that it appeared he couldn’t see. He held out a hand in her direction, but his eyes never tracked her nor showed emotion. He held his head still, as though he thought it might fall off if he moved too fast.

  ‘‘The surgeon general thought perhaps, since you have helped others who lost their sight, you could help me.’’ The tone of his voice told her what the words cost him, for his face registered nothing. Blank like a freshly washed blackboard was all she could think of.

  ‘‘I’ll be glad to help you. Where is your home?’’ She settled herself on a chair that Reuben set behind her.

  ‘‘It was in Fredericksburg but no longer stands. So far I have not been able to locate any of my family.’’ He lifted a hand to his face. ‘‘This, this has made everything impossible.’’ He dropped his voice as he did his hand.

  ‘‘I could write letters for you.’’

  ‘‘I would be most grateful.’’

  Louisa gave the corporal as much attention as she could in the next few days, teaching him how to feed himself, shave, and find his way around the house. They moved him into Zachary’s room, along with one of the men who’d been at the house for some time. He had no legs and was fashioning himself a low cart that he could ride in and propel with his hands.

  ‘‘Better’n draggin’ meself along the floor. Can’t abide feelin’ sorry fer meself. Bad ’un that.’’

  Louisa smiled at her legless friend. ‘‘Thanks, Homer, you always brighten my day.’’ As she left the two together in the room, Louisa paused in the hall at the sound of Corporal Saunderson’s voice.

  ‘‘Describe Miss Louisa for me, please.’’

  She could feel the heat flame her face as she headed for the kitchen. Now, what had brought that on?

  That evening she was putting away the sewing supplies when Reuben brought an envelope on the once-silver tray.

  ‘‘This comed to de door. For you.’’ The grizzled black man wore an air of curiosity as he glanced back over his shoulder to the front of the house.

  ‘‘Who brought it?’’ Louisa took the letter and studied the handwriting. Only her name. She looked up to see Reuben shaking his head.

  ‘‘Don’ know who brought it. Knock on de door, I goes to answer, no one dere, but dis on de mat.’’

  Louisa slit the flap open with her fingernail and withdrew a single sheet of paper. She leaned closer to the lamp.

  Dear Miss Highwood. She glanced to the bottom of the sheet and caught her breath. It was signed by Major James Dorsey.

  ‘‘Who’s it from?’’ Aunt Sylvania glanced up from her knitting.

  ‘‘A-a man who assisted me on . . . on this last trip.’’

  Sylvania cocked her head to the side. ‘‘You know, both you and Zachary have been most evasive about details of this last trip.’’

  ‘‘Someday I’ll tell you.’’ Louisa drew in a breath to slow her thudding heart and read the remainder of the letter.

  I hope and pray this not only finds you, but finds you well and recovered from your experience. I have been transferred back to my company in the field and am grateful, as I’m sure you were, to leave Washington behind. Please know that I do not bear you and your brother the rancor that the general does. We were all just doing our duty. Please remember me to your sister when you write to her.

  I am proud to know two such fine Southern ladies. May our loving Lord bring you safely through this abominable war and home again to your beautiful plantation.

  Sincerely,

  Major James Dorsey

  Louisa folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope, shaking her head all the while. What a surprise! Nay, what a shock.

  Several nights later, after she’d visited Carrie Mae, she wrote to Jesselynn, telling her not only of their escape and all that happened but also of the major, reminding her sister where and when she had met the man.

  It seems a shame to me that we should meet
under such reprehensible circumstances. If only it had been another time and another place, not on opposite sides of this abominable war. I am eternally grateful God brought us safely back to Richmond, but I have not seen Zachary since I returned.

  She told Jesselynn about the new men in the house and then continued with news of the family.

  Carrie Mae and the baby are settled into their new home, or as settled as anyone can be at this point. Her house is lovely, and our baby is a bright spot, like a nodding daisy in a field of thistle.

  The war colors everything. Sister, dear, I hate this war with such a passion. And fear strikes clear to the bottom of my heart for our brother, who is bitter and angry beyond description. I do not know what to do but pray for him. I know that God can bring our brother back to himself, but will Zachary allow that to happen?

  Forgive my rantings here and give Thaddeus hugs and kisses for me. He is growing up without knowing his sister Louisa, who loves him dearly. One day we will meet again at Twin Oaks, God willing.

  She signed her letter, then added a postscript. Aunt Sylvania is back to being her old self but for a slight limp, and her eye droops when she gets tired, which also happens more easily.

  She didn’t tell her sister about the rush of joy she’d felt when she saw the major’s signature.

  If only James Dorsey were not in the Union army.

  CHAPTER THIRTY - ONE

  On the Chugwater River

  ‘‘Fall is on the way.’’

  Jesselynn stopped beside her husband at the mouth of the cave and leaned against him. He put his arm around her shoulders so she could fit right next to his heart. ‘‘How do you know?’’ she asked.

  ‘‘Smell the air, and the geese are flying south.’’

  Jesselynn inhaled, sorting the smells as she became aware. Horse manure, dust, skunk, the grasses down by the water. She inhaled again. Her husband’s special scent, woodsmoke, meat drying over a low fire. Nothing else.

  ‘‘So what does fall smell like?’’

  ‘‘That bite in the air, turning leaves—there’s a difference between growing and turning—you can smell the pine. . . .’’ He glanced down at her. ‘‘Maybe after a few more years here, you’ll know what I mean.’’

  Jesselynn sniffed again. ‘‘Guess I haven’t been paying enough attention to the smells.’’

  ‘‘Do you know that to the Indian, the white man has a peculiar odor? Can smell one coming if the wind is right.’’

  ‘‘And if your Indian family uses bear grease, I know what they’d smell like.’’ At the flash of something, she wasn’t sure what, across his face, she wished she’d not brought that up. However, moccasins soaked in bear grease really did repel water, as did boots soaked in bear grease.

  ‘‘So you want another lesson in training horses today?’’ Wolf looked down at her. ‘‘You have a talent along that line.’’

  ‘‘Lesson?’’ She cocked an eyebrow. ‘‘I gentle ’em. You and Benjamin train ’em.’’

  ‘‘Works well. Another couple of weeks and we can take them to the fort. That’ll give us seven horses to sell. What about selling some of the oxen too? They could use them for beef, if nothing else.’’

  ‘‘I’ve been thinking. What if we give one or two of ours to Red Cloud’s people?’’

  Wolf nodded and smiled down at her. ‘‘Guess we better ask everyone else what they want to do. Can’t see how we can winter over this many oxen though. They can’t dig down to the grass like buffalo and elk, or eat the willow tips.’’

  ‘‘And yet we’ll need them for breaking ground in the spring. Some of this bottom land ought to grow oats real well.’’ She slipped her arm around Wolf ’s waist. They so seldom had time alone together without sixteen interruptions. She treasured moments like these, perhaps more so because they were rare.

  ‘‘This is why the Indian bands keep on the move. Graze off one patch and move to the next. Summer near the rivers and winter where the trees protect the tepees and the snow is not so deep the horses can’t dig through to graze. Easier, I think.’’

  ‘‘Some of the tribes are raising gardens down along the river, I heard someone talking about that at the fort. Then the other tribes come trade for pumpkins and squash and such.’’

  Wolf sighed. ‘‘I know. Times sure are changing.’’

  ‘‘Will being a farmer be hard for you?’’ She bit her lower lip, waiting for his answer.

  ‘‘Not as long as we raise horses. If training horses is my work, I’ll play all my life.’’

  Jesselynn smiled up at him. ‘‘We have to feed them too.’’

  ‘‘Ah, wife, ever practical.’’ He tipped her chin to share a kiss when they heard from the cave behind them, ‘‘Jesse, I got to pee.’’

  ‘‘Today we’ll put those young pups to diggin’ an outhouse.’’ Wolf sighed. ‘‘Civilization has indeed come to the high country.’’

  ‘‘So we’ll have the first latrine. Will that make us famous?’’ Jesselynn reached up and kissed him quick. ‘‘I’m coming, Thaddeus.’’

  As soon as they’d eaten, Jesselynn brought another mare into the corral and began her training. She followed the mare around the circle for a time to keep her moving. When the mare lowered her head and turned to face her, Jesselynn stopped and waited. When she took a couple steps backward, the mare came toward her. They continued the dance until the mare came right up to her, head lowered, acknowledging Jesselynn as leader of the herd. Jesselynn stroked her ears and rubbed down the dark neck. If only she’d learned this easy way of working a horse years ago, although the Thoroughbreds at Twin Oaks were handled from the day they were foaled and never had to be broken.

  She slipped the loop around the mare’s neck and walked her around the circle, then turned the other way and walked figure eights. Always the mare followed. The only time she hesitated was when she heard her colt cry. They’d weaned the babies as soon as they arrived in camp, much to the consternation of both mares and offspring. Some were being more stubborn than others.

  Stroking the mare, rubbing her with a cloth, then putting the saddle blanket in place—nothing bothered the mare, as long as Jesselynn stopped and backed up a step as soon as the horse began to tighten up.

  Wolf leaned against the top bar of the corral. ‘‘You sure do have the touch.’’

  ‘‘Thank you. You can probably ride her tomorrow.’’ She crossed the corral, the mare following. ‘‘How are the geldings doing?’’ They’d gelded the five young stallions two days earlier.

  ‘‘You’d hardly know they’d been cut. Meshach is a man of many talents.’’

  ‘‘He says all you need is a sharp knife and someone to hold the horse down.’’

  ‘‘Benjamin sitting on their heads did that trick. No bleeders, no infection.’’ Wolf stepped back from the rail. ‘‘Ahab took care of the mare that came in heat. She’s good and sturdy, should make a good colt.’’ Since they had no idea how many of the wild mares were already bred, they were watching them carefully. They couldn’t afford to winter over a mare that hadn’t taken.

  ‘‘Think I’ll go up and see how Nate and Daniel are doing with the loggin’. You want to ride along?’’

  ‘‘Oh yes.’’ Jesselynn stopped. ‘‘No, I can’t. I promised Jane Ellen that we’d go looking for hazelnuts, herbs, and such as soon as I finished with the mare. She works so hard, she deserves a treat like that.’’

  ‘‘You’re riding?’’

  ‘‘Dulcie and Sunshine.’’

  ‘‘Agatha rode up with Nate and Daniel. Nate said she can snake a tree out good as any man. Those oxen do just what she tells them.’’

  Jesselynn smiled up at him. ‘‘Is that what he says? I think he just wants to spend time with her away from all the prying eyes.’’

  ‘‘Up loggin’?’’

  ‘‘Heard tell she fixed a special basket for dinner. Even some molasses to spread on the corn bread.’’

  ‘‘Well, I knew he was sweet on her, bu
t looks like it goes both ways.’’

  I just hope her happiness spills out on the rest of us. Jesselynn knew she particularly meant on her and Wolf, but others in the party had borne the brunt of Agatha’s displeasure too.

  She’d just turned back to the mare when two rifle shots echoed down from the tree line. Two shots were a signal for help.

  Wolf whistled. His Appaloosa broke free from the herd and galloped toward him. He swung aboard and galloped on around the bend up toward the hill.

  ‘‘Get my medicine kit!’’ Jesselynn called into the cave. ‘‘Something’s wrong up on the hill.’’ Benjamin had Domino saddled and ready for her, along with Dulcie for himself, by the time she had grabbed her small kit with extra bandages and had run back out to the corral.

  ‘‘Dear God, take care of them, whoever’s hurt.’’ She muttered the prayer over and over, both inside and out, as she galloped up the hill.

  ‘‘This way!’’ Nate hollered down the hill, waving his arm at the same time.

  Jesselynn urged her horse straight up the incline rather than following the zigzags used to skid the logs down. Domino was heaving by the time they got to the site, but Jesselynn ignored that, dismounting and running for the body she saw lying on the ground. Aunt Agatha. Something had happened to Aunt Agatha.

  ‘‘The chain slipped and caught her hand.’’ Wolf kept his voice low. ‘‘She’s lost some fingers and fainted, I think from the pain.’’

  Jesselynn dropped to her knees beside the pasty-faced woman. Blood everywhere told a story all its own.

  ‘‘I done de best I can.’’ Daniel had clamped his fingers over the blood vessel in her wrist so that the bleeding had stopped. He looked up at her with tears in his eyes. ‘‘I shouldn’t a let her do de chain.’’

  ‘‘Hush, Daniel, no one lets Aunt Agatha do anything. She does what she thinks best.’’