Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  Still, she knew she must not. She must wait until she and Justin were alone—until Caleb’s worried, wondering eyes were not upon them. Only then could she explain; only then could she confess to him that even though it may break Caleb’s heart, it was Justin who owned hers.

  “Should I go look in on that feller ya brung home with ya, Justin?” Nate asked. “Do ya think he might be wantin’ some supper?”

  Savannah turned to look to Justin.

  “Why don’t I look in on him?” Caleb offered, pushing his chair back from the table. Vivianna held her breath as she felt something akin to a cold, icy-fingered hand gripping her throat. She’d seen the expression on Justin’s face—on Caleb’s and Savannah’s. They feared Nate might wander into her bedroom, only to find that another soldier had gone to be with the angels.

  “I haven’t seen ol’ Johnny in quite a piece. Why don’t ya let me go, Nate?” Caleb said.

  Vivianna held her breath—watched Caleb awkwardly amble to the back of the house.

  “Nate, Willy…you boys get washed up for supper,” Savannah said. “I swear I’ve never seen such dirty fingernails!”

  “Yes, Mama,” Willy said, though both he and Nate stared after Caleb, watching with obvious trepidation as he entered Vivianna’s room.

  “Boys, I said get!” Savannah scolded.

  “But, Mama…” Nate whined.

  “Mama?” Caleb said, poking his head out of the bedroom then.

  Vivianna still held her breath—glanced to Justin, who sat pale as a corpse in waiting to hear what Caleb would say.

  “He’s all right…says he’d just like to take a little supper or some broth in here…if it would be fine with you.”

  Vivianna exhaled the breath she’d been restraining—heard Savannah do the same.

  “You tell him that’ll be just fine,” Savannah sighed. She placed a hand over her bosom, no doubt to calm her madly beating heart. “We’ll bring him somethin’ shortly.”

  Justin ran a trembling hand over the bristles of hair on his head. “I swear, there were times these past couple of weeks when we’d bunk down for the night…times I coulda sworn that ol’ boy had quit breathin’. Times I was sure one or the other…or both of us would never make it home,” he said.

  “Well, you did make it home, darlin’,” Savannah said. She went to Justin, lovingly stroking his cheek with one hand and kissing his forehead. “You’re home, and everything will be just fine now.”

  Justin smiled. He caught his mother’s hand, kissing the back of it almost desperately. “I missed you, Mama,” he said, heavy moisture brimming in his eyes.

  “And I missed you, my darlin’,” his mother said. She smiled, squeezed his hand, and added, “Now…let’s get some supper in you so we can put you to bed. You need your rest. I wanna see some meat on those bones of yours soon…and food and rest is what it’ll take plenty of.”

  Justin nodded, and Savannah wiped another tear from her cheek.

  “Would you pull the meat off those chicken bones, Viv, please?” Mrs. Turner asked. “Might be we oughta just make a stew out of it this evenin’.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Vivianna said, smiling as Justin winked at her again.

  “Can we have ’em, Viv?” Nate asked. “The chicken bones? When you’re finished, can we have ’em for our bone collection?”

  “Bone collection?” Savannah exclaimed. “I hardly think a sawed-off dog leg would merit bein’ called a collection.”

  “Oh, but we got a lot of bones out in our fort, Mama!” Willy exclaimed. “We boiled up a dead fox we found in the woods last week, and we found a dead rabbit out behind the ol’ Libby place.”

  “And don’t forget the deer head old man Marshall gave us,” Nate added.

  “Boys, how morbid! You can’t be collectin’ bones! It just isn’t proper,” Savannah scolded, stripping several sprigs of sage from the dried stalks of various herbs hanging near the cupboard.

  “Oh, let ’em be, Mama,” Justin chuckled. “I’ll bet ya a dollar Caleb still has the old bear skull him and me found out near the riverbed that one summer.”

  “Oh, don’t remind me!” Savannah sighed, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss the memory. “That ol’ thing gave me nightmares for a month!”

  “A bear skull?” Nate and Willy breathed in unison.

  Vivianna giggled. She would’ve sworn their eyes were as big as dinner plates!

  “Would ya rub this sage a bit, Viv?” Savannah asked, handing sage leaves to Vivianna as she plucked them from their dried stalk.

  “Of course,” Vivianna said.

  She listened then as Justin told Nate and Willy the story of the summer he and Caleb had found the skull. It was wonderful! For a moment, it almost seemed as if the war had never been—but only for a moment. Still, Justin was home! Impatient as she was to steal a private moment with Justin, Vivianna calmed herself with the knowledge that her time with Justin would come. She forced herself to think of Caleb—of how hurt he would be were he to find her and Justin kissing beneath the honeysuckle vine when she’d only just refused his proposal. She would be patient; she had to be. Still, she smiled, hoping Justin would take her in his arms and kiss her the way Nate and Willy had seen Benjamin Sidney kissing Tilly Winder.

  Vivianna slipped her hand into her skirt pocket, letting her fingers caress the worn pages of Justin’s letter there. Justin was home! For a moment, her mind flitted to her own brothers—to Sam and Augie and the fact they never would return. Images of her parents entered her mind, yet she forced them away. Justin was home, and she would find her happiness again. She would!

  

  “He’s a cantankerous ol’ boy sometimes, Viv,” Caleb said, chuckling as Vivianna entered the room with a bowl of chicken stew. “Just don’t pay him any mind.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s not as bad as all that,” Vivianna said, sitting down in the chair next to her bed as Caleb stood up from it.

  “Well, don’t be too certain,” Caleb said. “And his stomach is growlin’ like it ain’t been fed in a year.”

  “Then I’m glad I brought such a big bowl of stew in,” Vivianna said. She tried not to frown as she looked to Johnny Tabor and noted his painfully pallid complexion, the sunken appearance of his eyes.

  “It’s good to see ya, Johnny,” Caleb said. “We’ll have us some more time to talk when you’re on the mend a bit better.”

  Vivianna watched as Johnny Tabor held a trembling hand out to Caleb. Caleb shook his hand.

  “Good to see you again, Caleb,” Johnny Tabor said, his thin, dry lips imitating a smile.

  Caleb nodded and strode from the room.

  Johnny Tabor was sitting up in the bed. Vivianna assumed Caleb had assisted him in doing so, for she was sure he hadn’t the strength to do so of his own accord. Caleb had been talking with Johnny all the while supper was being prepared, and Vivianna was glad, for it had given her the opportunity to smile unrestrained and unguarded while speaking to Justin. She could not have felt so comfortable in doing so had Caleb still been in the kitchen. Now he was gone, and Vivianna turned her attention to the task at hand—Johnny Tabor. She was determined to ensure that Justin’s friend regained his strength. She could see the worry in Justin’s eyes. Each time Johnny’s condition had been mentioned, Justin’s eyes would darken with anxiety. Thus, Vivianna was resolute in her resolve to see Johnny Tabor strengthened.

  “It’s chicken stew,” she said.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” the man said. He held out one weak, trembling hand, intending to take the bowl from her.

  Ignoring his hand—for she knew he was too weak to hold the bowl—Vivianna ladled a spoonful of stew and held it before his mouth.

  Johnny Tabor’s brow puckered in a deep frown, and a low, quiet growl of irritation and self-disgust rumbled in his throat.

  Yet Vivianna raised one eyebrow in daring. “Open your mouth, Mr. Tabor,” she ordered. “You need some nourishment.”

  Still frowning, Johnny Ta
bor opened his mouth, allowing Vivianna to feed him. He swallowed the first bite of stew, and as she ladled another spoonful, he grumbled, “Why are they makin’ you feed me? You ought to be out there with Justin.”

  “Justin has a mother and three brothers starvin’ for his company, Mr. Tabor,” she said, feeding him another spoonful. “I’m not about to be selfish and spoil their first day with him.”

  Mr. Tabor’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be studying her. Vivianna felt her cheeks pink under the intensity of his gaze.

  “You don’t want to spoil Caleb’s day either. Now do ya?” he mumbled.

  Vivianna paused in ladling the stew. Her first thought was that there was no possible manner in which Mr. Tabor could know of Caleb’s proposal to her or of her refusal. Her second thought was that perhaps Caleb had confided the fact of it to Mr. Tabor while he’d been sitting in conversation at his bedside. Had Caleb truly told Justin’s friend of his offer of marriage? She thought not. Then the realization struck her: Caleb had also known this Johnny Tabor in battle. Hadn’t Justin said that Caleb too used to scout with Johnny? Perhaps this was how Johnny Tabor had come by any knowledge he owned of the Turner family. As friend to both Caleb and Justin, perhaps he knew that Vivianna had loved Caleb when the war began—likewise knowing she loved Justin at the end of it.

  “Were you with Caleb when he was wounded, Mr. Tabor?” she asked, feeding him another spoonful of stew—attempting to distract him from the present subject of conversation.

  “I was,” he said. “He was a fine soldier…and he’s a good man.”

  “And you’re from Texas?” she asked, feeding him another bite of stew.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. He held up a hand as she offered another spoonful to him. “Pardon me, ma’am…but I best not gobble…else it might not stay in me.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Vivianna said, a pang of painful sympathy pinching her heart. “We’ll let that much settle then.”

  “Do ya know if Justin sent anybody for our packs?” he asked.

  “Your packs?” she asked, confused.

  “We hung ’em in a tree near the road before we got too close to town. We didn’t want any of the townsfolk attackin’ us on our return and stealing the few things we brung with us. I thought…I thought maybe he’d already gone back for ’em…or sent someone to fetch ’em,” he explained.

  “Oh, I see,” Vivianna said. She shook her head. “No, he didn’t send anyone for them. I suspect they’re still where ya left them…safely hidden until ya can fetch ’em yourself.”

  The soldier nodded but still frowned.

  “Where in Texas are ya from, Mr. Tabor?” she asked, slowly ladling another spoonful of stew between his parched lips.

  “San Antonio,” he said. “Well, that’s where I was born anyway…though I left to enlist from Fredericksburg.”

  “Fredericksburg? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Most folks haven’t. It’s small.”

  “And your family is there?”

  “No, ma’am,” he answered. “Two parents, two sisters, and two brothers…moved north about a year ago.”

  Vivianna smiled and asked, “Only two parents?”

  She was momentarily mesmerized as Johnny Tabor smiled then too. His smile quite lit up his face, and it was only then that she noticed what a handsome man he would be were he healthy.

  “Yes. Only two,” he said. Instantly, his smile faded, however, as he said, “I’m so sorry for the loss of your family, ma’am. Truly I am.”

  Vivianna shook her head and restrained the tears begging to well up in her eyes. “Everyone lost someone in the war,” she said. “But I have the Turners. They’re my family now.”

  “Until you and Justin have your own family?” he asked. His eyes were piercing as they studied hers, as if he were trying to read the thoughts in her mind. She felt her cheeks pink with blushing, yet she wasn’t quite certain if the blush rose from the thought of having a family with Justin or because of the intensity of Mr. Tabor’s gaze. “Well…well…well, I…” she stammered.

  “You haven’t already promised yourself to Caleb, have ya, ma’am?” he asked.

  Vivianna was astonished! She felt her mouth gape open as she stammered to respond.

  “Well, no…I…I haven’t. Of course…I have to…I wouldn’t want to hurt him. I…”

  “But he’s asked ya…hasn’t he?” he asked.

  Vivianna sensed he already knew the answer to his own question. Therefore, she dared not lie. “Well, yes,” she admitted in a whisper. “But I refused. I couldn’t…I couldn’t accept him while…while…”

  “While you were still in love with his brother,” he finished. Again, Johnny Tabor’s dark eyes bored into her soul.

  “It seems…it seems you know an awful lot about it, Mr. Tabor,” she said, spooning more stew into his mouth.

  “Bein’ a friend to both boys…it seems I would, wouldn’t it?” he asked.

  Vivianna gasped as Johnny Tabor reached out and firmly took hold of her wrist with one roughened hand.

  “I didn’t bring Justin home so you could sacrifice yourself in the name of duty or pity and break Justin Turner’s heart, ma’am,” he rather growled as he glared at her. “I brung him home to you. So even though I know you’re mindful of Caleb—and you’re a good woman for it—don’t do anything out of pity or obligation that might find a load of souls unhappy in the end.”

  “Well, I don’t plan to, Mr. Tabor,” Vivianna began, yanking her wrist from his surprisingly powerful grip, “but I’m not right certain that it’s any of your nevermind anyway.”

  “Oh, it is indeed my nevermind, ma’am,” he growled. His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “I was at heaven’s door not an hour ago…and glad to be there.” He closed his eyes for a moment, his face donning an expression of peace. “I could almost see the crick glistenin’ in the sun…almost smell the prairie grasses…hear the meadowlarks. I was walkin’ through a meadow, and everything was green and peaceful.” He shook his head, opened his eyes, and continued, “But then it come to me…that Caleb was thinkin’ of marryin’ you before the war. He told me himself, before he was shot and sent home.” He exhaled a heavy sigh. “And heaven didn’t let me in. It sent me back to make sure things go as they should here.” He frowned and added, “I won’t find my peace until things are as they should be where these Turner boys are concerned.”

  “Though I’m glad heaven wanted you to linger longer in life, this isn’t your worry to bear,” Vivianna said. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I would never marry anyone out of pity or obligation.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes, you would.”

  Vivianna trembled slightly—for she knew he was right. Still, she wanted to convince him—wanted to offer him any manner of peace that she could. Therefore, she set the bowl and spoon down on the washbasin table and reached into her pocket. Withdrawing Justin’s letter, she held it toward Mr. Tabor.

  “Do you know what this is, Mr. Tabor?” she asked. Frowning, he took the letter from her, unfolding its pages. “It’s a letter from Justin to me…one of my favorites. I carry it with me always. Even when we thought there was no hope of his having survived to return to us, I still carried it. Even as we thought he was dead, I still kept it near me.” She watched as he studied the letter for a moment. “Put your mind at ease, Mr. Tabor. I won’t hurt Caleb more than necessary…but it’s Justin I love.”

  Johnny Tabor folded the letter and returned it to Vivianna. She carefully returned it to her pocket.

  “Then I’ve seen what I need to see…heard all I needed to hear…and I can take my rest now,” he said.

  Vivianna’s heart began to pound in her bosom. Did he mean then to die? Did he feel such a sense of having finished his calling that he would simply give up the ghost?

  “No, you cannot, Mr. Tabor!” she scolded. Reaching out, she pinched him hard on the arm.

  “Ow!” he exclaimed, glaring at her.

  “I know
you’re hurt and weak, sir,” she began. “But you’re alive…and obviously heaven itself wants you that way!”

  He turned his face away from her, however, mumbling, “I’m tired, ma’am…and I own such pain in my heart, mind, and body…pain beyond understandin’ or endurin’. I can’t even feed myself anymore. Rest is all I can think on. Rest is what I need…what I want.”

  “What you need is a good paddlin’!” she exclaimed.

  Again Vivianna pinched him. Again he looked to her and exclaimed, “Ow!” Frowning, he mumbled, “Them Turner boys never told me you were so mean.”

  Hopping up from her chair, Vivianna stomped to her chest of drawers. Pulling open the top drawer, she rummaged around until she found the small jar of salve she kept there.

  “Here,” she said, returning to the bed and dropping the jar onto Mr. Tabor.

  He breathed an “oof” and flinched as the jar landed none too gently in his lap.

  “Rub this over all those scratches on your hands, Johnny Tabor. It’ll soothe the itchin’ and help them to heal.” She frowned. “How in the world did ya get so scratched up in the first of it?”

  Johnny looked at her, an expression of astonishment on his face. “I…uh…I had to hatchet through a briar patch. Me and Justin heard somebody comin’ yesterday. They turned out to be Johnny Rebs…and we had to get off the road. It was the briars in the patch we went through.”

  “Very well. That salve will work wonders then,” she told him. She picked up the bowl of stew once more, placing it in his lap next to the salve. “And I want you to finish up this stew! You need to build your strength. If it comes back up, you just let me know, and I’ll bring ya a fresh bowl. You tell me I better not break Justin’s heart, Mr. Tabor? Well, I won’t see you die and do the same thing!”

  Vivianna was angry with the man! How could he think of dying? How could the fight go out of such a man as this? Obviously, Johnny Tabor was a survivor! Andersonville? It infuriated her that he would consider giving up now—after all he’d fought through to live.

  “Look here, woman,” he began to scold. He raised a trembling index finger and wagged it at her. “I didn’t bring that boy home so his little filly could corral me into—”