“I never thought of him in that light. He’s very understanding and says he loves me.”
“So do we, darling. So do we.”
Christmas morning…
Philip was up early. “Mr. Andrews, I wonder if I could have a word with you before everyone is up.”
“Certainly. Is something wrong?”
“No, sir. You asked my intentions. I would like to ask for Caroline’s hand in marriage.”
“Have you talked to her about this?”
“Yes, sir. I asked her last night, and she said yes. It will mean a lot to both of us if you would give your blessing.”
“Son, I think you’re a fine man. I would be proud to have you as a son-in-law.”
“Thank you, sir. Is there anything I can help you with this morning?”
“Have you ever milked a cow?”
“No sir, I’m city born and bred, but I’m a fast learner.”
“Get bundled up and grab a cup of coffee. It’s cold in the barn.”
“What we have to do is give the animals fresh water and then some fresh hay and grain.”
“I’m sure I can do that,” Philip grinned.
Later…
When they went back into the kitchen, Charity had biscuits in the oven. “You’re finished early.”
“It goes faster with two working,” Samuel said.
She looked at Philip. “You’re learning to be a farmer, are you?”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I can do manual labor,” Philip said.
Caroline yawned as she came into the kitchen. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
“You don’t have to go that far,” her mother said. “There are still some dregs in the pot.”
“Did you hog all of the coffee?” she accused Philip.
“Guilty as charged,” he answered.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I spoke to your father. We’re good,” he said.
She hugged her father, “Thank you Daddy.”
“You’ve made a good choice, honey,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
* * *
The marriage of Philip and Caroline took place at the New Concord Presbyterian Church on Sunday, June 16, 1861. It was exactly two months after the declaration of war.
In July of 1862, a quota of seventeen thousand men was levied on Ohio. Philip Simpson was one of the seventeen thousand and scheduled to train near Cincinnati.
“Do you have to go?” Caroline asked.
“It is my duty as a citizen to uphold the Union.”
“What about your duty to me and our unborn baby?”
“Carrie, I have to go.”
“I know you do, but I don’t have to like it.”
The troop train stopped in New Concord to take on the new soldiers. Caroline Simpson, her mother and father were on-hand to say goodbye. Caroline’s baby bump was barely showing. The goodbye kiss was tender and lingering.
“You take care of yourself and our baby,” he said. “With any luck, I’ll be able to come home for Christmas.”
“You come back to us, Philip Simpson,” the tearful Caroline ordered.
“I will,” he declared.
* * *
December 30th, 1862
After they made love, Caroline pressed his hand to her belly where he could feel the baby move. “I wish you didn’t have to go. When you come back, you’ll be a father.”
“That’s a thought I’ll carry with me every step of the way,” he said. They clung to each other throughout the night. When she awoke, he was standing by the bed, pulling his trousers up. Rolling onto her back, she opened her arms in invitation. He didn’t want to risk hurting the baby, so his lovemaking was restrained.
“I love you so much, words fail me,” she said.
“No more than I love you, honey,” he said. He kissed her, got out of bed and began donning his uniform.
The goodbyes were said, and his leave was over. Philip boarded the train that would take him to join General Grant’s Army of the Tennessee.
Philip Ethan Simpson was delivered by a midwife on February 15, after a protracted labor. Mother and baby were pronounced sound.
* * *
Chapter six
News
“Who was that, Mama?” Caroline asked when her mother entered the bedroom where baby Philip was nursing.
“It was Mabel Logan. She brought a copy of the newspaper.”
“Any news?”
“Darling, Philip’s name is on the list.”
“No! It must be a mistake. He promised he would come back. He can’t be dead. Maybe he was just hurt.”
“Honey, there are two lists. One is wounded, the other is killed. He was on the killed list.”
Caroline closed her eyes as the baby continued to nurse. “Do you want me to take Philip?” her mother asked.
“No, he’s not finished. Where did it happen?”
“At a place near Chattanooga in Tennessee.”
She moved the baby to her shoulder and began patting him on the back. After he burped, she handed him to her mother. “Would you put him in the crib, please?”
Charity took him and then Caroline’s tears began, slow at first, then streaming down her cheeks. Her mother came back and tried to comfort her. “Philip is going to grow up without a papa,” Caroline said.
“He has a good mother and grandparents that love him. Losing him is a terrible shock and shouldn’t have happened to someone so young, but you have to be strong for the baby. You will have all of the help you need. It won’t be the same, but you will have plenty of love surrounding you and your son.”
“I’d like to be alone, if you don’t mind, Mom,” Caroline requested.
“Of course. I’ll put him in our bedroom and listen out for him.”
Later…
She walked into the kitchen two hours later, her son in her arms. “Are you all right?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know that I’ll never be all right again, but we’ll survive. Mom, I don’t have any black dresses or a veil.”
“Your papa and I will go into town and I’ll get some black fabric to make some.”
“I can make them.”
“We’ll both make them.”
“Thank you, Mama. You’re the best.”
She hadn’t left the farm for three weeks, but visitors called regularly. The parents of her students came , along with all of the other neighbors. The preacher and his wife came and had prayers for her and the baby.
“Keep in mind,” the preacher said, “the Lord never sends us more than we are capable of enduring. We often don’t understand it, but He has a plan.”
“What kind of a plan could involve taking my husband and my baby’s father?”
“He works in mysterious ways.”
“I don’t like the way He worked in this case.”
“I’ll ask the congregation Sunday to pray for you and your son,” he said.
“Thank you, Preacher.”
* * *
Second week in May…
“Mama, would it be inappropriate for me to attend church this Sunday?”
“Wearing black, it would be entirely appropriate.”
Several widows were at the church services. Other than simple greetings, they were avoided or left to talk with relatives. “Do they think widowhood is contagious?” Caroline asked her mother.
“It’s probably they just don’t know what to say.”
“Or they don’t want to tempt fate. With the number of casualties, they know their man could be on the next list. I hate this war and what it’s doing to people.”
“How are you holding up?” one of the widows asked Caroline.
“With Mom’s help, I’m making it. I have a baby to take care of, so I don’t have any choice.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I want to go back to my classroom this fall. It’s something Philip and I both love… loved, and I was good at it. Some people will be scandalized when
I go back, but I don’t care.”
“I wish I had something to fall back on,” the other widow said. “I don’t have anything, I need to get married, so the first man I find that can take care of me, I’m going to latch onto like a snapping turtle, and I won’t let go until I’m married again.”
“Be careful, Marge. That could be dangerous.”
“I don’t have time to be careful. I have to do something or I’ll starve.”
“I heard the government is going to give people like us a widow’s pension.”
“Maybe, when they get around to it. They have to win the war first, and they’re having trouble doing that.”
* * *
“Miss Klein, will you have a few minutes to talk to me tomorrow?” Caroline asked.
“Of course, honey. Come in anytime. How is the baby?”
“He’s thriving,” Caroline answered. “I’m afraid Mom is going to spoil him though. She snatches him from the crib at the least little whimper.”
“Would it be all right if I stopped by to visit?”
“You’re welcome any time.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then, and thank you.”
* * *
The next morning…
“Mama, I talked to Miss Klein after church yesterday. I asked her if I could come in and talk to her. I want to go back to teaching. I can pay someone to help with Philip, and pay you and Papa some to help with what we’re costing.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Charity said. “You teaching again is a good idea. It will help you get over your loss. Taking care of Philip is a labor of love for me. As far as paying us, you’re our daughter and we love you. You belong at home.”
“My going back to school is not a problem? It’s not too soon?”
“No, it isn’t too soon. The sorrow of losing a loved one doesn’t require you to isolate yourself from everyone. You miss him and you won’t dishonor his memory doing something you both loved.”
* * *
New Concord Elementary School…
“What was it you wanted to talk about, Caroline?”
“Miss Klein, if possible, I would like to come back to the classroom. Philip and I both loved teaching, and it would keep me from missing him so much. Who do I need to talk to since there’s no principal?”
“Actually, there is a principal. They’ve asked me to do it, at least for the time being.”
“That’s wonderful. You’re perfect for the job, but won’t you miss the classroom? All the teachers and students love you so the job won’t be a problem for you.”
Miss Klein’s grin was a rueful one. “I don’t know if they’ll love me so much when I’m the principal.”
“Nonsense. You won’t have any trouble at all. Since you’re the principal, what do I have to do to teach again?”
“You just did it. You asked. I would love to have a dedicated person like you back in our classroom.”
“Unless Mama and Papa rule it out as improper, then I’ll plan on it. For now, count on me, and if anything happens, I’ll let you know. Thank you again; it means a lot.” She hugged Miss Klein, and walked out of the school, feeling better than she had when she walked in.
Chapter seven
Ben’s Grief
The days stretched into three weeks without anyone seeing Ben. His mother sent his brothers looking for him once more. The first place they went was his homestead.
The stench from inside was so foul, they stepped back. The first thought that occurred was that he had taken his own life. They covered their mouths with their bandanas and went inside.
“Look at this,” Seth said. “He’s living like an animal.” It was a hovel. Scraps of uneaten food were on the floor, covered with ants. The counter top was the same.
“That pot will never get clean again.” The cast iron cooking pot hanging from the hob in the fireplace was crusted over with dried beans that looked as if they had been heated, reheated and burned on without benefit of having been cleaned.
The sheet on the bed was brown with filth. There was a pile of grimy clothes on the floor beside the bed.
There was no sign of their brother. “I’ll check the barn,” Seth said. He returned, “There’s water and hay in the stalls so he’s apparently taking care of the livestock; the cow’s in the pasture.”
Mounted, they went searching. “Look,” Leroy pointed. “There he is.” Ben had the mule hitched to the plow, with the reins wrapped around his neck, plowing the field. “He’s plowed the whole thing by himself. That’s a lot of hard work.”
They rode to him. His hair was matted with sweat and dirt. His immature beard was scraggly; his face streaked with dirt and sweat. The clothes were grimy.
“Mama’s worried about you,” Seth said.
Ben didn’t stop. “I’ve got to get the field ready for the winter wheat,” he shouted and kept moving.
Leroy nudged his horse ahead of the mule, forcing it to stop.
“Get off my land. I’m burning daylight.”
“You look like the devil incarnate,” Leroy said.
“Thank you for that,” Ben replied sarcastically. He took his hat off and ran it through his greasy matted hair. He had lost so much weight his skin sagged, causing him to look twenty years older.
He looked at his brothers. At that moment, Leroy would have bet Ben didn’t recognize them. “Seth, unhitch the mule. We’ll leave the plow where it is. I’m going to take him home. I don’t know what else to do with him here.”
“Leroy? Seth? What are you doing here?” His voice was cracked from lack of use. They were the first people he’d seen since the funeral.
“No one has seen you in weeks,” Leroy said. “Mama sent us to find you.”
“I’m all right,” Ben said. “I’ve just been working my farm.”
Back at the barn, they hitched a horse to Ben’s wagon. “Seth, you drive. I want to make sure he doesn’t try something stupid.”
“How about you drive? I don’t think I can stand the smell all the way to Ma’s.”
“Get on the wagon and do what I told you. We’ll be riding into the wind. It’ll blow most of the smell behind you.”
It took them twenty-five minutes to get close to the farm. “Watch him. I want to talk to Ma before she sees him,” Leroy said and rode ahead.
* * *
“Did you find him? Is he all right?” his anxious mother asked. “Where is he?”
“Seth’s with him. I wanted to talk to you first. I think he’s crazy as a loon. He’s filthy; his hair is all matted and greasy. His clothes are more dirt than denim. I don’t even know how to describe his house. If it was my decision, I would set it afire and burn it to the ground.”
“His animals seem okay and well cared for. We found him plowing. He’s got everything plowed, except for the pasture. I don’t think he even knew who we were. He’s lost so much weight, he doesn’t even look like Ben.”
“I want to go to him,” she said.
“They’ll be here in a few minutes. Seth has him in the wagon. Brace yourself, it’s going to be a shock.” Leroy told her. He stood beside her, his arm draped over her shoulder when Seth brought the wagon to a stop.
Her hand went to her mouth to stifle a gasp. The figure before her was barely recognizable as her son. “Oh, dear God,” she muttered. “Take him inside, please.”
“Where do you want him?”
“In the kitchen. He has to have a bath. I’ll heat some water. Leroy, get the tub, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
Ben had bathed, and dressed in some of his father’s clothes. His mother put a plate of food on the table. “We’ll talk while you’re eating. Seth, Leroy, leave us, please.”
Her voice was gentle and soft. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. I don’t know what they told you, but I was out plowing, trying to get the wheat in before it’s too late.”
“Stop,” she commanded. “I was born, bu
t not yesterday. Don’t play me for a fool, Ben. I’m your mother. Talk to me.”
“Mama, I…”
“No one has seen you since the funeral. Have you been drinking?”
“No, ma’am” he said. “I never have.
“From the way your house was described, our hog lot would be cleaner. You were disgustingly filthy when you got here. I had your brother burn the clothes you were wearing, and you see nothing wrong? I have never been disappointed in one of my boys, but I’m disappointed in you.
“You haven’t seen your daughter, have you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“What are you going to do about her?”
“Do?”
“Yes, do. Did you or did you not promise Jenny on her dying bed you would take care of Becky, and would even find a good mother?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And this is the way you honor a promise to your dying wife; by going off and living in filth?”
“I don’t know what to do,” he said.
“For one thing, you could get some gumption about you and go see her. If you don’t want to do that, then maybe you should consider letting someone adopt her. Someone that would give her the love and care you promised her mother you would provide.”
“Mama, please, I can’t handle this.”
“Please nothing. I’m just getting started. When I’m finished, you have to face your father, and then you have to talk to Jenny’s parents.”
“About your house. Leroy thinks it should be torched. What do you intend to do about it?”
“Leroy should mind his own business. The house is fine.”
Her voice turned cold. “Don’t you ever talk to me in that tone and manner again! Go to your room and get some sleep.”
“You’re treating me like a child,” he complained.
“You’re acting like one. Now do as I said.”
He trudged up the stairs to his old room, and didn’t emerge for over twenty-four hours.
Alice checked on him several times, and found him sound asleep and in the same position as before.
Chapter eight
Making Amends
“How long did I sleep?” Ben asked.
Rekindled Love Page 3
