I realized after a few moments that Rhiannon had stopped talking. I glanced over my shoulder at her and was shocked to see her complexion was a strange greenish color, and she had one hand clapped over her mouth and the other braced against the kitchen counter. I grabbed her shoulder and her eyes, wide in alarm, turned up to look at me.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
She shook her head and bounded off towards the bathroom again. I followed and arrived just in time to hear her gagging into the toilet. I was so shocked I stood there unsure what to do, then suddenly recovered my wits and grabbed up her hair just as she’d done for me when I was hung over months before.
“Did you eat something bad?” I asked after she’d improved a bit.
Rhiannon wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then settled onto her backside to rest against the wall. “When have you ever known me to eat something bad?”
I shrugged because it was true. I’d never known her to be sick in any way shape or form. She was a werevamp. Both paranormal sides pretty much kept her healthy as a horse.
“This is the third time I’ve hugged the throne this morning. Something’s really wrong with me,” she whispered, and then to my absolute horror, her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out cold.
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Many of you know that my husband, Danny Sessums, is a historian. We’re in the process of working towards publication of his research thesis about Granbury’s Texas Infantry Brigade during the U.S. Civil War (or as he calls it, The War of Northern Aggression—what can I say? He’s a Southerner through and through.)
Eight regiments of approximately 11, 000 men from Texas made up what would become Granbury’s brigade. They would, for the most part, begin their service as somewhat mediocre organizations but would eventually be forged into the “premier brigade in the finest division of the Army of Tennessee.”
After years of fighting, of dying side by side, these brothers-in-arms finally arrived at Franklin, Tennessee on November 30, 1864. Granbury’s men had marched eighteen miles in just over six hours to reach the field and were given a few moments to recover their breath before engaging. Instead of resting, some of the men began to pull out scraps of paper and pencils and writing “This is the body of . . .” then pinning the notes to their lapels.
These Confederates were seasoned soldiers, and as they looked out across the flat land over which they were expected to attack, they knew their chances of survival were almost none. In the end, the division commander Patrick Cleburne as well as the Brigadier Hiram Granbury would lay dead. In addition, every field commander and every officer save one would be killed, wounded or missing. One survivor recounted that over fifty-two percent of the brigade was lost in a single bayonet assault.
Although the brigade was all but decimated, the remaining men would continue until April 1865, when they received the order to “stack arms.” At the start of the war, their numbers had been in excess of 11,000, but at their official surrender, the rolls would list only about 345 men.
The paymaster distributed to them one Mexican silver dollar and a US. Dime as their final payment, then the men began their long journey home, some of them boarding trains heading west. It was noted that some of the engineers appeared intoxicated, but one must imagine that the men were so elated to head home that they would have overlooked even that.
So it was, that just northeast of Knoxville and near Strawberry Fields, the lead engine descended into a valley and picked up such speed that it jumped the tracks. The rear train ran into the back of it, causing a terrible accident which claimed the lives of fifteen more of the men and wounded over thirty.
The story of the men of Granbury’s is truly one of the most heartbreaking I have ever heard, and no matter how many times my husband talks about “his boys,” I always find myself shedding tears for them.
I know this was a longer bit of “trivia” for you, but I’m sure you can see why it is one that is so near and dear to my heart.
As always I have to give a special thank you to my darling husband. You inspire me daily, support me always, and make me laugh both with your wit and your goofiness. I fall more in love with you all the time, my dear.
I can’t thank my dear friend Tawdra Kandle enough. Our business relationship has been a buoy to me in this ever changing field, but so much more than that, your spiritual guidance and love are an abounding blessing to me.
Thank you to the members of Team OH. You all are totally awesome and I so appreciate your willingness to pimp my books, listen to my silly facebook chatter and encourage me by always asking for more. And especially to Lisa Markson (Bashful Zombie named Decimus), Yvonne Daniels (Loving Centaur named Hetcher, and Kelly Baker (Angry Troll named Thin) for participating in our Team OH Which MAUC are you? game. And of course to Rolayna Daniels who was willing to let me use her name in the story without any questions asked. I hope all of you enjoyed the parts your MAUCs played in this story.
When Olivia Hardin began having strange movie-like dreams in her teens, she had no choice but to begin putting them to paper. Before long the writing bug had her and she knew she wanted to be a published author. Several rejections plus a little bit of life later, and she was temporarily “cured” of the urge to write. That is until she met a group of talented and fabulous writers who gave her the direction and encouragement she needed to get lost in the words again.
Olivia’s attended three different universities over the years and toyed with majors in Computer Technology, English, History and Geology. Then one day she heard the term road scholar and she knew that was what she wanted to be. Now she “studies” anything and everything just for the joy of learning. She's also an insatiable crafter who only completes about 1 out of 5 projects, a jogger who hates to run, and she’s sometimes accused of being artistic.
A native Texas girl, Olivia lives in the beautiful Lone Star state with her husband, Danny and their puppy, Bonnie.
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Reaping Trouble (The Lynlee Lincoln Series Book 4) Page 10
