Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “But I thought ya loved him. I thought ya wanted to marry him.” He paused and then added, “You refused Caleb for the mere memory Justin left in you. And now, you refuse Justin for—”

  “I have not refused Justin,” Vivianna interrupted once more. “He told me today…that he wants me to give up the letters…give up the man he used to be. As I said, he wants me to love who he has become.”

  “And will you?” Johnny asked.

  Vivianna could not understand her desire, her need to be honest with Johnny. Yet honest she was as she said, “I don’t know. I must confess it to someone.” She paused and gazed into his handsome face. His eyes were warm—held sincere concern. “You’re his friend, Johnny…but may I trust you with a secret?”

  “I fear I’m the greatest keeper of secrets you’ll ever meet, Vivianna,” he said. She thought there was perhaps more meaning in his words than was apparent.

  “Then I’ll tell you this. I love Justin…but I love the Justin I knew here.” She held the box up that he might better see it. “The Justin whose heart is written in the letters in this box. I…I think the Justin you brought home…I fear he may be lost to me forever. And I confess further that I don’t know if I can love the man he is now. I…I don’t care for some of the changes in him…a certain arrogance that appears every now and again…an impatience.” She shrugged and added, “Oh, I’m sure I’m not bein’ very understandin’. After all, you know what he endured at Andersonville. More than anybody else, you understand.” She shook her head and restrained her tears. “My feelings go back and forth. One minute I’m heartbroken that he doesn’t love me as he did, but in the next breath I feel freer than I have since before the war.”

  Johnny said nothing—simply looked at her, his dark eyes smoldering with an intoxicating allure. Warm and sudden moisture flooded her mouth as she gazed at him.

  “Do ya think badly of me, Johnny?” she asked him. “Do ya think I’m fickle and stonehearted?”

  “No,” he mumbled. His eyes narrowed. “I think Justin’s a fool. And if those letters you’re holdin’ are what’s keepin’ your heart a prisoner…then burn ’em and set yourself free.”

  Vivianna shook her head, however—clutched the box to her bosom. “No. No, I could never burn them. But I have decided to put them away from my easy reach.”

  “Where do ya mean to put ’em?” he asked.

  Vivianna looked at the box and studied the small treasure holder.

  “I think…I think I’ll take them to my daddy and mama’s house in town,” she told him. “There’s a whole attic full of trunks…trunks and trunks filled with things my mama packed away to sort through one day. I figure they’ll be safe there, and I don’t visit the house often. It’s too far for me to rush over in a fit of melancholy and retrieve the letters…yet close enough I know they’re near. I figured I’d go tomorrow mornin’.” She paused and glanced to the tin box still tucked under Johnny’s arm. “There’s a heap of trunks up there, Johnny. Most anybody could find a good hidin’ place for a lot of things…things a body maybe doesn’t want to hold too awful close…or things they don’t want anybody to find.”

  Johnny glanced to the tin box. He looked back to her, frowning. “I don’t want to belittle your treasure, Vivianna,” he began, “but my secrets…what I keep in this old box are worth far more than Justin’s letters. I best keep them close.”

  Vivianna nodded. Perhaps Nate and Willy were right. Perhaps Johnny did hide gold or jewels in the old tin box he guarded so carefully.

  “I’ll take ya to town tomorrow if ya’d like,” he said, startling her from her thoughts.

  “Pardon?” Vivianna asked.

  “Ya shouldn’t go into town alone,” he said. “I’ll go with ya.”

  Vivianna felt a smile spread across her face. “That’s very kind of ya, Johnny. But folks in town know ya fought for the Union…and you’re not Florence born and raised like Caleb and Justin. Aren’t ya afraid folks might—”

  “I ain’t scared of the folks in town, Vivianna.” His frown softened a little. “I’ll go with ya to hide those letters…unless…unless ya don’t want me to go with ya.”

  Vivianna’s heart quickened its pace. The thought of walking all the way to town and back in Johnny’s company caused such a thrill of delight to rise in her that she nearly forgot the heartache she’d been bathing in beneath the honeysuckle vine only a few minutes before.

  “Oh, no! No…I want ya to go with me,” she assured him. “I just hate to impose on your time.”

  Johnny shook his head, however. “It ain’t no imposition,” he said. “I was plannin’ on checkin’ in on them jobs with the railroad sometime this week anyhow. I’ll be glad to go along with ya.”

  Vivianna smiled, though an odd disappointment had pricked her when Johnny had said he’d planned on going to town anyway. She would’ve liked to believe he’d wanted to go with her simply for the sake of her company. Still, it was a kind offer, and she did look forward to his company. Perhaps having Johnny with her would make the task of letting go of Justin’s letters a little easier.

  “Promise, Johnny?” she asked. “Do ya promise to go with me to leave off Justin’s letters?”

  Johnny grinned and nodded. “I promise.”

  “Then I’ll see ya in the mornin’, Johnny Tabor,” she said.

  He nodded and mumbled, “Good night, Vivi.”

  “Good night,” she told him.

  Vivianna hurried to the house. She was tired, and morning would come all too soon.

  “He’s a good man, Viv.”

  Again Vivianna startled at the unexpected sound of a man’s voice.

  “Caleb Turner!” she scolded in a whisper as Caleb stepped up onto the porch behind her. “I swear! You nearly scared me to jumpin’ right outta my skin!”

  Briefly Vivianna wondered if Justin too were lurking in the night shadows. What was wrong with men? Why did they find it ever so necessary to steal up on a woman? She wondered then if perhaps their quiet, creeping ways were a lingering characteristic of war—of quiet care in scouting.

  “I’m sorry,” Caleb apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare ya so.”

  “Well, you did. Shame on you,” she teasingly scolded.

  Caleb nodded to the box she held in her hands. “You been readin’ Justin’s letters again?”

  Vivianna nodded. “For the last time, I’m afraid.” She frowned as she studied Caleb for a moment. “You told me Justin had changed, Caleb. When he first came home…you said he’d changed. How did ya know he’d changed? You hadn’t seen him in almost a year.”

  Caleb glanced away a moment. “Truth is…he’d changed long before I was wounded and sent home,” he said.

  “But…but that was before he and Johnny were at Andersonville.”

  Caleb nodded. He looked back to her and said, “Johnny Tabor’s a good man, Viv. A better man than Justin…and probably me too.”

  Vivianna felt a slight blush rising to her cheeks. Had Caleb seen her talking with Johnny in the dark near the honeysuckle moments before?

  “Caleb…how you do go on sometimes,” she sighed. “What do you mean tellin’ me that Johnny Tabor is a good man and that Justin’s not? And why do you always put yourself under everyone else? You’re a better man than most,” she assured him.

  “I’ve seen the way ya look at him, Viv,” he continued, however. “Your eyes light up when Johnny’s near…like nothin’ I ever seen come over ya before.”

  “Now…now, Caleb,” Vivianna stammered, “I’m sure that’s simply not true.”

  “It is true,” he said. “And I just want you to know…if I can’t have ya myself, then I’d rather lose ya to the likes of Johnny Tabor than to the likes of Justin.”

  “J-Justin just needs time, Caleb,” she began to argue. Yet she wondered why she felt the need to defend Justin—for Caleb was right. Johnny Tabor did affect her in a manner that Justin did not. Yet her sense of obligation to the Turner famil
y spurred her to protecting Justin’s right to her somehow. “He just needs more time. I’m sure he’ll—”

  “Justin don’t need time, Viv,” he interrupted. “Are ya gonna stand on this porch and try to tell me that Johnny went through less than Justin did at Andersonville? When they first came home, it was plain as day who’d seen the worst of the misery Andersonville rained down.” He reached out and took hold of her shoulders. “I’m tellin’ ya, Viv…ya wouldn’t marry me ’cause ya loved somebody else more. Don’t marry my brother out of obligation and expectation…or even because of a memory. Whether it’s Johnny Tabor or some other man ya find yourself lookin’ to, you settle for the best man that crosses your path…because that’s what ya deserve.”

  Caleb paused and looked at the box containing Justin’s letters. “You said you’re readin’ ’em for the last time. I say good! Them letters is what kept ya from marryin’ me, and ya know it, Viv. Don’t let them come between you and the man who was meant to have ya. Burn ’em, and look forward. That’s what we’re all doin’—burnin’ the pain this war caused and movin’ on.”

  “I could never burn them, Caleb,” she told him. “But I won’t dream over them anymore.”

  Caleb nodded. He smiled—a sad sort of smile—and said, “Good. Good. Now ya better get on into bed. It’s late.”

  “You’re a good man, Caleb,” Vivianna said. She raised herself on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Thank you for bein’ so kind and patient with me.”

  “Good night, Viv,” Caleb said.

  “Good night,” Vivianna said.

  She left him then—quietly entered the house. Once she’d changed her day clothes for a nightdress, Vivianna lay in bed listening to Savannah’s soft snore. It was odd that Caleb should be lingering on the porch so late, that Johnny was out near the honeysuckle vine at such an hour. There must be something strange in the air keepin’ folks from sleepin’ easy tonight, she mused.

  Closing her eyes, Vivianna began to drift to sleep. Somehow she wasn’t so anxious over Justin’s letters anymore. Somehow she had a notion that it might be easier than she thought to put them away in her family’s attic. Though she’d shed a river of tears while reading her cherished letters one last time, she felt a renewed sense of freedom at thinking on giving them up.

  She smiled as thoughts of Johnny entered her mind again. She giggled slightly as sleep began to overtake her—a vision of Johnny Tabor covered in mud and frogs heralding her dreams.

  

  Johnny closed the tin box—fixed the lock. He should sink it in the river; he knew he should. At the very least he should hide the box containing his secrets—the proof of the blackness of his soul. He thought of Vivianna’s suggestion he hide the box in one of the trunks in her family’s home. How sweet and kind she was, how thoughtful and innocent.

  He hated Justin Turner in that moment. Yes, he hated his greatest friend! In the least he hated the man who had once been his greatest friend. He wasn’t certain exactly when Justin began to lose himself—sometime just before he’d saved Johnny’s life, he thought. Still, part of Johnny—the greater part of him—was blissful in Vivianna’s seeming disenchantment and frustration with Justin. Johnny had become more and more certain he would rather die than see Justin actually win Vivianna—actually wed her. And now it seemed there was hope.

  Justin, selfish fool he had become, had pushed Vivianna away. Fine—then she was free to love another! Justin himself had freed her. After all Justin’s threats—after all Johnny’s plotting—in the end, Justin had freed Vivianna, and Johnny could feel free as well—free to pursue her for his own purpose.

  He thought of the kiss they’d shared beneath the honeysuckle vine—of how thrice she had kissed him in offering her thanks. It was many times he’d seen Vivianna offer her thanks to Caleb. Yet she had not placed a kiss to Caleb’s mouth on any occasion of offering thanks. Johnny’s entire body burned with fury as he thought of Justin’s having enjoyed her kiss, and he knew Justin had. Still, he had no right to know such anger and jealousy. It had been Johnny himself that had encouraged Justin to fulfill the promises of love to Vivianna. What then had he expected?

  He had expected—rather feared—that Justin may show his true weakness. Though Johnny had initially hoped Justin would return to being the man he once was—that he would endeavor to be worthy of the love of such a woman as Vivianna—he was greatly relieved Justin had failed. His relief only resulted from Vivianna’s apparent lack of utter heartache. It seemed to Johnny that Vivianna truly loved Justin’s letters—loved the promise of what Justin might be instead of the reality of what he was.

  Johnny likewise knew Justin’s kiss had not affected Vivianna as his own had. This knowledge caused him to smile. He thought of her telling him she thought he might succeed in leading her astray if she had a mind to let him. It was an honest confession—he knew it was—and it pleased him. Still, as he gazed at the tin box in his lap—as he thought of its secret contents, the contents that would prove to anyone who opened it how truly sinful and corrupt Johnny Tabor was—he knew he should not hope to win her. Yet hope was in him; he could not suppress it.

  He mused that perhaps such a woman as Vivianna could forgive him his evil deeds—see beyond his wicked, deceptive nature. Perhaps she could find something in him to love. Yet he shook his head, knowing it would take a miracle for the angel Vivianna to love a devil like Johnny Tabor.

  He rose from the swing, raised his lantern, and headed back to the house. He’d promised to accompany her to her parents’ home in the morning—promised to be her escort as she traveled a road to ridding herself of Justin’s letters. It was true he was weary. It was true any of the residents in Florence they might encounter would most likely not be welcoming to him. Still, nothing could interfere with his keeping his promise to her. After all, shouldn’t someone keep one small promise made to Vivianna Bartholomew?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Johnny says to tell ya he’s waitin’ on the front porch for ya, Viv,” Nate said. The boy frowned as Savannah snipped the hair around his ears with a pair of scissors. “Be careful, Mama!”

  “Oh, quit your fussin’, Nate,” Savannah scolded. “I swear! A body would think you’d had your ear cut off before the way you carry on when I’m tryin’ to shine ya up a bit.”

  Vivianna giggled as she watched Nate purse his lower lip in a pout and firmly fold his arms across his chest.

  “Thank you, Nate,” she said, quickly kissing him on the forehead.

  “Where y’all goin’ anyhow, Viv?” Willy asked.

  “I’ve gotta put somethin’ in the old house,” she answered, tucking the small box containing Justin’s letters under her arm.

  “Do ya want me to come with ya?” Willy asked. “I could come with ya! I’d be more’n willin’!”

  “I’m sure ya would, Willy,” Savannah said. “But you need your hair looked after today too. Neither one of you boys is leavin’ this house. You both look like you’ve been livin’ in a cave.”

  Vivianna’s smile broadened as both Willy’s and Nate’s eyes widened—as they looked at each other with sudden and delighted inspiration.

  “A cave!” they simultaneously exclaimed.

  “Now there’s somethin’ I’d like to do…live in a cave!” Nate said.

  “Me too!” Willy agreed.

  Savannah rolled her eyes with exasperation. Shaking her head, she looked to Vivianna and sighed, “I swear…if it weren’t for you, Viv, I don’t know what I’d do with only men for company.”

  Vivianna forced a smile and nodded. Yet inside she was filled with guilt and a heavy burden of obligation weighing on her. She knew she’d never marry Caleb, and she was coming to the certain realization that she may never marry Justin. What would Savannah do if Vivianna left her?

  Still, she wouldn’t think on it now. She had to take Justin’s letters to her parents’ home. She needed to release them so her thoughts and emotions could find a clearer path to follow.
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br />   “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Miss Savannah,” Vivianna said. “I’m just runnin’ on over to the old house for a time.”

  Savannah smiled and nodded, though her gaze lingered a moment on the wooden box tucked under Vivianna’s arm. “All right, darlin’,” Savannah said. “But ya make sure you don’t go further on into town without Johnny. Do ya hear me? Caleb says there are all sorts of strangers wanderin’ about in Florence. Ya keep Johnny close.”

  “I will,” Vivianna said. She kissed Willy’s cheek as she headed for the door. “You boys have fun gettin’ your hair trimmed up now, ya hear?”

  Both boys wrinkled their noses and sneered.

  Vivianna heard Nate mumble as she left the house—heard Savannah scold him. She smiled, delighted by the comfortable familiarity of the goings-on in the Turner home.

  Johnny was indeed waiting on the porch. He sat in an old chair, leaning back against the house, whittling on a piece of wood.

  “Good mornin’, Johnny,” Vivianna greeted. She smiled and felt her heart flutter madly in her bosom as he looked up to her and smiled in return.

  “Mornin’, Vivi,” he said. His eyes were bright, his soft brown hair rather tousled, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved that morning, and Vivianna liked the rugged look a day’s growth of whiskers gave his chiseled jaw and chin. He was wildly attractive—unfairly handsome! Vivianna thought for a moment that Johnny’s overall appearance was unrivaled by any other man she’d ever met. She scolded herself for thinking that even Justin or Caleb could not match Johnny’s distinctive allure. She inwardly determined there was indeed something wrong with her. How could she so be so easily affected by Johnny? She’d known Caleb and Justin all her life—loved them all her life! How could she allow a stranger to cause such thoughts and feelings to overwhelm her?

  She thought of the letters she carried, and again she was impressed that she must release them. She would not be able to make sense of her emotions, would not be able to think clearly, as long as they were near. They distracted her—kept her mind and heart chained to the past.