Sanders Cross

by Stephy Smith

  Her view of the two men faded into hatred for what they were asking of the people. How dare they sit on their backsides while innocent men sacrificed their lives for the sake of who is right and who is wrong in matters no one cared about? She, at least, didn’t care about the differences of the two men. Why didn’t they slap their glove across the other man’s face, choose the weapon of choice and fight their own battle instead of involving the entire country?

  Fear for her mother and Maggie’s sanity etched itself firmly within her soul. She prayed the two didn’t grieve themselves to death in the couple of weeks the men would be gone to settle this fight. To ward off tears of anger, fear and confusion, Grace shoved her grief aside and immersed herself in taking care of the others until a more appropriate time, and outside the family circle.

  War games were nothing but politics. Oh, how she hated the word. All the eligible men in the country wanted to talk politics. She cringed each time a suitor brought up the topic.

  Just give me my life, my family and my own husband. There are far too many worries without the addition of political agendas! Guilt consumed her as she thought only of herself. Crossing her arms across her chest, she thought about all the other maidens in the area. They weren’t likely to find a husband any faster than she could. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. What kind of woes would this war leave behind? Nobody she knew had ever been to war to answer her questions. She sidled up to the window and peered out, trying to imagine what would transpire on the battlefield.

  ****

  Mittie Abigail Sanders

  Mittie bowed her head. What is my part in all this, oh Lord? I implore you to have mercy on my family.

  Things soared horrifically out of control, affecting her peaceful existence. How cruel, the want to separate husbands from wives, parents from their children and brothers from sisters. None of it made sense.

  Disappointment clenched her stomach at her parent’s refusal to allow her to accompany the menfolk on their journey. This is a man’s war, they told her. Confidence in her ability to shoot, ride and fight as well as any man nagged at her brain. There had to be a place for women in the war. There just had to be.

  Irritated, she ground her foot into the dirt. If they would allow her to go, she’d make her own place, show her true worth.

  Bent and with outstretched arms, she waited for Grace to take Maggie’s other arm and help guide her into the house. Her sister’s wails sent determination rippling down her spine. She’d help end this war, no matter the cost. If she had to sacrifice her own life, so be it.

  The look on her mother’s face as her father walked away erased her idea of following in secret. Even the slaves chose to remain to oversee and protect the plantation. Rumors of the war had floated for some time around the area. She herself had heard every accusation known to mankind regarding the situation. A bad gut reaction raced to the surface with the message it would be a long period before her family was reunited.

  She had no doubt the war would be won by the South.

  Chapter Three

  Lewis Ellsworth Sanders

  As a man who’d chosen to go off to war to support his cause and stand up for what he believed in, Lewis Sanders wasn’t supposed to cry. Nevertheless, the heavy pain he’d witnessed in his wife’s eyes haunted his every step. As he distanced himself from the plantation his father left as a home for him and Izella to raise their family in, his heart begged to return to her side.

  Each step brought more tears to dampen his face. He glanced around to each of his sons. They too wiped at their cheeks, excitement and fear mingling in their eyes.

  Pride expanded his chest as he glanced from William to Samuel to Thomas and then to his son-in-law, Robert Gentry. From the look on Robert’s face, he fought to forget the pain in Maggie’s eyes, the same as Lewis did with Izella.

  Please Lord; keep us together as a family unit until this nightmare is over, he mouthed silently to his Maker. Shifting his rifle to his free hand, he pondered how strong the women would remain in his absence. Long, lonely days lay ahead for all of them. He could only hope the war didn’t last too long. This was the first time he’d be away from Izella, knowing he wouldn’t return to her side before nightfall.

  Visions danced in his head of the Yanks’ treatment of their women. The slaves, he felt sure, would protect them if the war moved too close to home. He struggled with the idea of leaving his wife behind. He glanced at his sons who trod forward, eager to make it to the battlefields. The young men’s dreams are an old man’s nightmares.

  “I’m missing your mother already,” Lewis muttered, kicking a rock in the road.

  Robert ducked his head. “I miss Maggie too. We must pray our women will be fine and cautious while we’re gone.”

  “Cautious?” Thomas lifted an eyebrow to Robert. “Mittie doesn’t have any idea what that word means. However, with Ma, Maggie and Grace to put her in her place I think they’ll be safe. But dear God, if those Yanks cross Mittie, there’ll be another battle to fight…just to pull her off them.” A smile tugged at his mouth.

  “Mittie’s the one I’m worried most about. If she gets the notion in her head she can whip up on the Yanks and win, I fear she may have a surprise due her.” Sam waved his arms. “She’s tough, but to whip up on a man now could get her in trouble. These aren’t going to be the boys she grew up with that took to her shenanigans.”

  “You’re right, Samuel. Izella will keep Mittie’s mouth shut, and Grace will keep the guns out of her reach.” Lewis rolled his eyes.

  “I hope she holds true to her fearlessness. If she by chance tosses her courage aside, Maggie will lose her perspective to stay strong,” Robert said.

  “Mittie doesn’t think before she acts, and if she does, she’ll have them all in jail before sundown.” William scanned the group.

  “No matter. We have to look out for us now. My hope is that the military keeps us together so we can watch each other’s back, be there for each other as we’ve always been. I’m proud of you boys. Don’t ever forget how proud I am,” Lewis said, his voice choking with emotion.

  ****

  Robert Morris Gentry

  Each step took Robert further away from his wife. Trepidation mixed with confusion to slither like a snake down his spine. His mixed emotions coiled, ready to strike when a body least expected it. He found it hard to fathom why it was so hard on Maggie. His love for her hadn’t died, and never would. However, the call to arms had seized him with a fierceness beyond hard to describe. He had to represent what he believed in, or the South would have no future.

  Maggie understood in her own little way. He was sure of it. If he could just figure out why she got so upset when he’d dropped her off at her mother’s house. Didn’t she realize that he was thinking of her, trying to fix things, so she wouldn’t be alone? Her adamant pleas to stay at their own plantation added mayhem to his confused thoughts.

  Thoughts of her being upset shattered his soul. He should have stayed to make things right. He had explained the risk of her staying alone—her life could be in danger without the strength of others. If the opportunity presented itself, he would write her a letter of apology.

  Robert leaned in closer to Lewis. “I don’t rightly know what has gotten into Maggie as of late.”

  “Why? What has she done to make you question her?” Lewis continued to plod forward.

  “She cries at everything. I cannot figure out what I’ve done to upset her so. It worries me to see her this way.”

  Lewis’s laughter echoed down the long, dusty trail. “You’re going to be a father. That’s all.”

  “Did she tell you that? Why didn’t she come to me and let me know?” The pounding in Robert’s chest picked up a new beat. He masked his desire to run back and lift her in his arms.

  “No she hasn’t told me anything. However, I’ve been through it six times already. Since this is her first, she may not even know herself.” Lewis slapped Robert across the back, grasped his h
and firmly and gave it a shake. “Looks like congratulations are in order.”

  “Well I’ll be, go to—never mind where I’ll go. I’m going to be a father. Yes, I’m going to be a father!” He walked on, his heart soaring as high as the clouds, the news penetrating his mind with each step.

  He glanced at Lewis, who had a mile-wide smile stretching his face. “And, I’m going to be a grandpa.”

  The added guilt of leaving Maggie swept over him. What kind of man leaves his wife when she is in such a delicate condition to go off to war?

  ****

  William ‘Willie’Joseph Sanders

  Small puffs of dirt kicked up from under the men’s feet. Light of heart, William Sanders practiced his marching skills until he heard the screams of the womenfolk left behind. They had cried for days when Sam left for the university. In a petty sort of way, he’d known they would cry even if he was moving into his own house and wasn’t going to war. Engrossed in thoughts of serving the South, he inwardly smiled. So far, no southern belle had sunk her claws deep enough to pull him home.

  Being the oldest of all the kids warranted expectations he wasn’t prepared to give. His childhood dream of joining the army had finally come to fruition. Once he signed up it would be his future and his life, the way he wanted it. Before now, he couldn’t bring himself to tell his mother and father of his dreams. Their hearts would be broken if he’d admitted he didn’t wish to share in the plantation life he grew up with.

  Excitement and the promise of adventure filled his soul. He glanced to his kinfolk as they plodded along as if in a death march. Guilt threatened to overwhelm his happiness, but he managed to shake it off. He couldn’t go to chase the Indians across the land at breakneck speeds until the Yanks were driven from the South. He focused on the day when he could shoot his gun in the air to frighten them into staying on their designated government lands. It was his goal to get in the army, and no one would spoil this for him. Firming his resolve, he whistled a little tune his mother used to sing when he was a small child.

  ****

  Samuel ‘Sam’ Lee Sanders

  Sam’s hope of becoming a doctor wavered as the prospect of being sent to the front lines drew near. He’d started to school at the university but, with the war underway, he doubted he’d see the chance to finish. Everything happened too fast. He couldn’t permit his father and brothers to go without him. The first rumors of what was to come had only emerged a few weeks ago. Now they plodded down the lane on their way to band with people they hardly knew to fight for their beliefs.

  A strange fluttering erupted in his gut. He wondered if the other men experienced the same sensation. Sliding a glance their way revealed little concern in their countenance about their fates. Robert and his dad both smiled. Willie pranced around with ease, seemingly, too eager for encouragement. Tom lagged a few steps back. Sam wondered if his younger brother would end up turning back. Deep down he realized the kid was afraid. He was scared. They were all likely petrified if truth be told.

  There was one way to change the worry. Jump into the fight and ride out the fear. That’s what he intended to do. Never give up, and die trying. If only I could stop shaking.

  ****

  Thomas ‘Tom’ David Sanders

  Tormented soul-deep for leaving the women to fend for themselves, Tom held his tongue in check. Of course, they do have slaves to protect them, and Mittie.

  The thought somewhat easing his guilt, he refused to pivot and run back home to hide behind his mama’s skirts. The words between his parents festered. He wanted to go to war and stand beside his father, yet he didn’t want to leave the womenfolk unattended. One backward glance toward Sanders Cross and he would never leave the property again. He focused on the horses at the end of the lane.

  Sam gazed in his direction a time or two. Tom was certain it was to check and see if he changed his mind. He shook the need to trot home and picked up the pace to catch up with the rest.

  “You having doubts?” Sam whispered.

  “Not so much doubts as thinking I abandoned Ma and the girls. And you? Any regrets?”

  “Not if I get to work in a hospital.” Sam’s lips curled into a half-cocked smile.

  “Why did you leave the university for the war? You’ve spent your life telling us your dream of becoming a doctor. You’d give it all up to fight?”

  “I figure I can do more good for the wounded soldiers, so the choice was easy. I think it was for all of us.” Sam’s brows furrowed.

  “When Pa told Ma he was going, there wasn’t much of an argument. The fighting started when I told her I was going too. Boy did that ever set her off.” His halfhearted chuckle remained low.

  “Mothers have a hard time letting go of their babies. Don’t matter how old they are. You remember how she carried on when I left. I asked Dad if he wanted to go with me so he could report back to her that I was fine and safe.”

  Thomas shook his head. “She thought you were going to the other side of the world and she would never see you again. Now…we are going to the other side of the world. She has good reason to be upset.”

  “We’ll be all right Tom, we’ll be all right.”

  Chapter Four

  Izella

  Eight months had passed since the men had left. Letters home were few and too far between. Deep in her heart, Izella knew they tried to write home more often, yet the war always interfered. She laughed at her own musings. How hard would it be to write a letter and dodge bullets at the same time? She let the trickle of emotions ravish her. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  During the summer and autumn months she kept the girls busy working in the gardens. She taught them how to dry herbs and can the vegetables from the kitchen garden plot outside the back door.

  With winter setting in, she fought her own turmoil. A good plan to cheer up the girls and keep her mind from focusing on Lewis would be beneficial. As always, she plastered on a smile, and made her way down the long hallway to the parlor with Letty in tow.

  Long faced and broken-hearted, Maggie slumped in her chair. Her sewing project hung loosely from one hand with the thread attached to the needle stuck in the arm of her chair. Her blue eyes were framed by red, swollen lids and her nose raw from constant wiping. Maggie’s constant frown tended to add to the low morale of the group.

  Izella shifted her gaze to Grace. She looked past her mother into some unknown world only Grace was privy to enter. Her brow furrowed and she formed words with any sound coming out. Her facial expressions changed as if she were having an internal interlude with some young suitor. She chewed on her lip until she caught sight of her mother.

  Mittie sat with her sewing in her lap. Her hands clenched and wrinkled the material in which she held as if she were choking the life out of it. Her breathing came heavily and her shoulders stiffened as her lips pinched and her green eyes narrowed. She plainly showed her disinterest in sewing. Mittie shifted and swiveled in her chair as if she were sitting on pins and needles.

  Izella didn’t blame the girls. She wasn’t interested in sewing either. “Well, girls. What should we do for entertainment tonight?” Izella glanced around the room.

  Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes. Her hands went to her face, sobs assaulting her body.

  “How far along are you, Maggie?” Izella laid a comforting hand on her oldest daughter’s shoulder.

  “What?” Maggie’s voice cracked.

  “When are you expecting the baby? You know the child growing inside you?”

  “Any time now. How do you know about the baby? I haven’t told anyone. Not even Robert.” Maggie’s voice trickled into a whisper.

  Izella glanced at the bulge of her daughter’s belly. What made her think none of the others would notice? They all knew but waited for Maggie to say something about it.

  Grace and Mittie scurried across the room, both hugging their sister. Izella rolled her eyes at the way they carried on as if they hadn’t noticed a thing.

  “I suspected r
ight before Robert left. I was afraid if I told him, he would feel obligated to stay with me. And although I wanted him to stay, I couldn’t let the baby be the determining factor.” Maggie swiped at the wetness on her cheeks.

  “Everything will be all right, Maggie. Just wait and see.” Grace raised her head a little higher. “I’m going to be an aunt.”

  “I’m happy for you. This is good news. I’m growing weary of bad news, myself.” Mittie kissed Maggie on the cheek.

  “Oh Mother, what am I to do? Robert needs to know, but if I tell him, he’s certain to come home. In his letters, he assures me he’s fine.” More tears rolled down her cheeks.

  The likelihood of a letter reaching him in time for the birth is farfetched. Furthermore, if he does receive it, there is no guarantee he could come home. Izella kept her thoughts to herself. There was no reason to keep Maggie upset over the matter.

  “Your father is the one who informed me. He said he had talked to Robert the day they left.”

  “But, I never told anyone. How did Father know?” Deep creases formed in Maggie’s brow.

  “When Robert described your symptoms, your father automatically knew. I’ve had six children Maggie. I think your father understands more about pregnancies than most women do.” She laughed softly. The last thing she intended was to set Maggie into a torrential flood of tears again.

  A knock on the door came as a welcome interruption. Izella crossed the room, took the letter’s that had arrived and dismissed the servant. She glanced at the name and handed it to Maggie.

  ****

  Maggie

  Maggie ripped open the letter. Her heart pounded and her hands shook with anticipation. The pages lay in her hands as if they were gold. She clung to every word, even as the odor of gunpowder, sweat and blood reeked from the folds.