by Diane Wylie
“My father would have you shot on sight if he even laid eyes on you, let alone hear you speak.” She gasped and put a hand on his arm. Her words had sobered them both immediately. She had unwittingly reminded him of the danger that still threatened his presence behind enemy lines.
When he saw the shadows cross her face, he decided to take charge of the situation; he was determined to enjoy his last night at Pleasant Run Manor. “Isaac, can you play some music?” he called over to the big man who was licking his fingers in ecstasy, his plate empty of all food.
“Yes, suh!” Isaac put down the plate and picked up the harmonica. Mindful of the warnings against loud noise, he played a soft but lively tune, suitable for picking up your heels, which is exactly what everyone did.
Luther passed around the corn whiskey, filling up everyone’s cup time and time again. Even the children were allowed a small taste in honor of the occasion. Madeline made a face when she tried it, but Nate, being almost a man, stoically swallowed the burning stuff.
David watched Jenny join the others while they danced a Virginia reel to harmonica rather than fiddle music. She lifted her skirts, displaying slim, feminine ankles and satin slippers, joining in the fun as he laughed and clapped in accompaniment from his seat.
The eating, drinking, and dancing continued for at least an hour before Isaac, tired from playing, sank into a chair and asked Jebediah to sing instead. Picking a slow song to calm things, Jeb began to sing a haunting, romantic ballad in a beautiful, resonant voice.
Smiling, Jenny came to sit beside David, sweeping her skirts under her. Reaching across, he took her hand in his and touched his lips gently to her fingers.
“Will you do the honor of dancing with me, Jennifer Winston?”
“Can you dance?” She glanced down at his leg with an expression of concern.
“If I can stand, I can dance, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”
Slowly he stood, keeping her hand in his, and urged her to her feet. Together they moved to the center of the room, oblivious of the other partygoers in the room now. He drew her close, and she rested her head on his broad shoulder. Gently he began to sway in time to Jeb’s melody.
He breathed in the scent of her hair and tightened his arms around her soft curves possessively, praying that some day they would be together like this again.
Time stood still for them both, and the cares of the outside world vanished. Each held the person they loved the most in the world in their arms, and for now the North and the South were completely at peace.
By the time the party began to break up, David managed to thank each and every one of his saviors personally. He presented Mother Kizzie with a beautifully carved and polished wooden cup he had made with materials Isaac supplied. It was etched with the image of a dove, the symbol of peace.
“It was hard to hide this from you, Kizzie. I wanted it to be a surprise, and you were there so often to check on me, I wasn’t sure I could finish it in time.” He smiled at her and embraced the tiny woman in a careful hug.
“The spirits knows God is not done with you, Soldier Boy. You have somethin’ else to do befo’ yo’ leaves this earth,” Kizzie declared emphatically.
David was a little disconcerted by this remark but said nothing.
“Yo’ take care o’ that leg now.” She pressed a small corked bottle into his hand. “Use this here liniment on it when it git stiff and rub it in real good.” Kizzie’s arthritic hand patted his resting on top of the cane as they stood near the door.
“Cap’n Reynolds, yo’ be careful an’ don’t be gittin’ shot.” She let out a little cackle. “Muther Kizzie won’t be there to help you.”
Jeb, Patsy, Cordelia, Nate, and Madeline all trooped by to say goodbye to the Yankee and went about their business full of good food, whiskey, and good times. Kizzie sat in her chair by the fire and waited patiently for everyone to leave her house.
Luther approached, eyeing the cane David held.
“Luther,” he said, as he lifted the cane, “I believe that this is the finest cane I have ever seen. I want to thank you again for making it. I will be the envy of my troops when I return.”
“For true, Cap’n?”
“Absolutely.” He reached out and shook the big man’s hand heartily. Luther clapped him on the back, almost knocking him off balance with his jovial enthusiasm. Jenny stood beside them laughing at the exchange. It was the first time she seemed relaxed since David had announced his intention to leave tonight.
With mingled sadness, relief, and anticipation, he picked up his remaining gear, strapped on the pistol, said his farewells again then turned to leave. It was time.
Taking Jenny’s hand, he crossed the threshold of the dingy slave cabin, and together they walked into the cold December night. The moon was bright enough to guide them to the grove of trees that hid Napoleon. Jeb had gone ahead to retrieve the big war horse and saddle him. They could see the slight form of the old slave standing patiently with the reins. At their approach, he placed the reins, almost ceremoniously, into David’s hands, gave a little bow, and turned to leave.
Putting a hand on Jeb’s arm, David stopped him. “Thank you for everything, Jebediah, I’ll never forget the kindness you have all shown toward me. Tell them all that if they are ever up north, come to Philadelphia and ask for me at the Star Bulletin newspaper office. They can find me.”
He saw Jenny glance at him in surprise. In her world no slave would ever need to do such a thing. Slaves didn’t ever travel on their own. He sincerely hoped she wouldn’t ask him to explain.
Jeb just nodded and added, “Cap’n, don’t you worry about Miz Jenny here. Me and the Massa, we take good care o’ her.”
“Thank you, my friend, it is good to know this.”
* * *
Jennifer watched the overseer melt into the night, wondering, a bit fuzzily, what that was all about. She decided that David must have invited them to look him up out of politeness; after all, what did Yankees know about slaves?
“Jenny, I’ve a gift for you.”
His deep silky voice flowed over her whiskey-numbed ears like the caress of a warm summer breeze, and she shivered at the sensation. Turning her gaze back, she saw him slip the cane into his saddle and reach into his saddlebags. They were already stuffed full of food and water for his journey. It would take him at least two days, traveling only at night to avoid the Rebel patrols, to reach the Union headquarters at Brandy Station. He pulled out a small packet wrapped in brown paper, reached for her, and placed the packet in her hands.
“What is it?” She was strangely excited by his gift as if it was Christmas Day and she was only ten years old again. Holding it up to the moonlight she tried to see through the paper.
A cold wind picked up the edges of her cloak and pulled her hood off her head. She ignored it. Napoleon snorted and shifted impatiently. David gave him an absent pat to settle him.
“Oh, it isn’t much, but I wanted to give you a little token of my appreciation for everything you’ve done for me.”
Tearing the paper carefully to look inside, she gasped with pleasure. In her hand lay an exquisitely detailed carving. She held it closer for inspection.
“Why…it’s Romulus! It is wonderful; it almost looks alive!” The little wooden statue caught the big dog’s quizzical expression when he sat and looked at his mistress, waiting for their next move. She threw her arms around David’s neck and stretched up to hug him.
“Oh, thank you, David. It is perfect, and I will treasure it always. I will think of you when I see it and pray for your safe return from the war. I’m sorry that I had to lock Rommie in my room tonight…I was afraid he would be too much for the party in Kizzie’s cabin.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought you were leaving tomorrow, and I planned to bring him with me then.”
With a hand under her chin, he raised her face and lowered his lips to hers. His short beard was soft and almost sensual the way it rubbed her face. Her body tingled all the way d
own to her toes before he took her hands and unwrapped her arms from his neck. His face was suddenly solemn and serious.
Her heart dropped. Now it was time for goodbyes. Tears gathered immediately.
“Jenny…why don’t you come with me?”
Then he startled her even further by dropping to one knee in front of her, still holding both of her chilled hands in his. He rubbed them briskly with his big warm hands for a few moments. She felt Jack’s college ring still on his finger. Then he spoke, looking up into her face. His feelings were exposed to the world on his handsome face, and his eyes shone with a soft light.
“Jennifer Winston, I love you with all my heart and all my soul…will you marry me?”
* * *
She didn’t speak. She just looked at him. He watched the emotions cross her beautiful face, so pale in the moonlight. And he knew her answer. It was there in rapid succession—pleasure, excitement, love, hesitation, doubt, and finally sorrow. His heart sank, and he suddenly knew the pain of his healing wounds in every fiber of his body. Please, he prayed, please let me be wrong. Please say yes. Don’t make me do something that I don’t want to do…
She shook her head slowly. “No, David. I do love you, but it cannot be. What would happen after we were married? Would you send me to Philadelphia? How could I leave my father and brother? They need me. How can I marry you?”
A tear slid down her cheek. Getting to his feet again, he reached up and brushed the tear away with his thumb. Then putting his hands on either side of her face, he made her meet his gaze.
“We can marry, and you can stay here until I can come for you. You wouldn’t have to go to Philadelphia unless you wanted it.” He desperately wanted to convince her.
She shook her head again. “My father…no…never allow me…enemy soldier…no…” Her voice trailed off when he pulled her gently to him, unable to bear her sad face.
In his heart of hearts he knew she would deny him, no matter how much she may have wanted to be his wife. Self-sacrifice was part of Jenny Winston. She had done it for him and would probably always put others ahead of her own needs. This time she was putting her father’s desires ahead of her own and David’s. But he knew she loved him, and he wanted to bask in her love for a few more minutes. If she rejected his offer he was ready to make sure that he destroyed her love for him. He would guarantee that she would not be waiting for him to come back, like Lila Montgomery was waiting for his friend, Jack. Jenny would not even suffer a single anxious moment after tonight because of him.
So why ask her to marry you if you don’t want her to wait for you? Selfishness, pure and simple, that was why. He was one selfish, selfish man. If he couldn’t possess her body and soul, as his wife, he would drive her affections away from him. Then he could go back to the war without worrying about her thinking of him. It was all or nothing. They would either marry or go their separate ways without a care for the other.
Bittersweet sadness settled on his heart. His arms were full with the wonderful softness that was all woman—his woman—for just a tiny bit longer. Bending his head, he took her mouth with his and kissed her. He was not gentle this time. The kiss was hard, demanding, and full of passion. He crushed her to his chest.
“David!” She pushed against him with both hands. “Would you have my memories of you spoiled with your roughness?”
He let her go and stepped back a step. One last try.
“We don’t have to rely on memories of each other if you would marry me. I don’t want to just have a memory of you. I want you to be mine.”
“And I want you also, but you have a war to fight, and I won’t have you distracted by concerns about me. We cannot marry unless…” she hesitated, biting her lower lip.
“Unless what?” he pressed hopefully.
“Unless you resign the army and stop killing good Southerners.”
Unknowingly, she had opened the door for him to cast himself out of her life. This was how it was going to be. He couldn’t have it all, so he would have nothing.
“Good Northerners are dying as well,” he said quietly. “Did you know that men are enlisting in the Union army at the rate of six hundred a day in New York City? They are coming here to take on your ‘good Southerners.’ I will continue to be one of them. We outnumber the Confederates—by a great number. We will not be stopped. We will just keep coming and coming.”
He took her arms and gave her a gentle shake. “The Confederate States will not prevail. We are blocking your seaports. Nothing goes out or comes in. Nothing! If your President Davis doesn’t see what will happen, then he is a fool. Supplies of food, ammunition, and everything will dry up and disappear. The South will slowly starve, and you will starve if you stay here! Come with me! Marry me! I can keep you safe!”
He saw the horror on her face at what he was telling her and felt sick. She looked at him, a few inches away, and he could see the changes come over her. He had ruined it all. Everything they had between them was spoiled with his harsh words. He had forced reality on her, forced her to confront the facts as they stood, interpret them, and decide on her own course of action. He had known this was one battle the South would win because he had said all the right things to make it happen.
* * *
The corn whiskey’s effects left Jenny’s mind in a rush of adrenaline, A strange calmness fell over her now, where before she had been ready to sob at the impending loss of her love. She saw the bigger issue now. This was not a case of marrying David Reynolds or not. This was a matter of supporting her people or turning traitor.
Her back stiffened, and her head came up. She stepped further away from him, putting more distance between them. His betrayal cut through her like a knife.
“Leave! Get out of here! I can’t love you anymore.” She choked back a sob, determined not to cry. “I must have been a fool to love a Yankee! I hate you for what you have done to me! I hate you!” With all the strength she could summon, she backed away from him even further. “All this time you knew that your people planned to stop at nothing, kill our men, and leave us destitute. Just go!”
Jenny turned to leave. Her hands were shaking, and her knees were weak, but she was determined to leave with some dignity. Unfortunately, she only managed to walk a few steps before her emotions got the better of her. She began to run, heading back to the house, terrified that she would soften if she looked at his cherished face.
Clouds moved across the winter sky, blotting out the light from the moon, but that mattered little. She knew this ground and was familiar with every rock and hole along the way. Her feet flew across the uneven frozen terrain with her cloak belling out behind her.
The sound of hoofbeats striking the hard earth rang out, coming up quickly from behind. She knew it was David. He reined in Napoleon and drew up beside her. She slowed to a brisk walk, still staring straight ahead.
“Jennifer! Wait!”
She refused to respond, continuing to keep her gaze locked ahead. He matched the horse’s stride to hers. Tears now streamed down her cheeks, but she ignored them. Her hands were fisted in her cloak. She didn’t trust herself to let go. Throwing something at him seemed to be a good idea at the moment, but she refused to give in to the urge.
“I still love you! I will always love you, forever, Jenny, forever. Remember that.”
Her whole body flinched at his words. I hate you. I love you. I hate you. Oh, God, I love you, too. But different words came out of her mouth, hateful, angry words. “Go away, David. Go back to your precious army. I never want to see you again.”
He pulled the horse to a stop. Breaking into a run once again, she cleared the last few yards, mounted the porch, and opened the door. The clouds parted slowly, revealing the perfect yellow moon, and flooding the yard with silvery moonlight. Through her tears she finally looked back one last time before moving into the house.
The image of the soldier on horseback could have been the rendering of an artist—so perfect was the scene. The sleek black sta
llion’s coat gleamed. The uniformed rider sat straight and tall in the saddle. A slight breeze ruffled the captain’s dark hair, and she saw his head bow for a moment as if in prayer. Then he raised his head and stared in her direction. The horse pranced restlessly under him, making the moonlight wink off the shiny brass saber at his side. A quick movement of the reins and the horse and rider suddenly turned away to the north. They moved slowly at first then began to gather speed. She watched as her love rode away from her, farther and farther until he melted into the trees. They were gone.
It was silent then. The moon slipped behind the clouds once again. The night was cold and still and dark as death. Jenny quietly closed the door behind her.
Chapter Thirteen
It was the second night spent traveling through the backwoods of Virginia. The weather had turned colder, and the air smelled of snow, but David wasn’t worried. The Virginia winters had to be much milder than the Philadelphia winters, making the weather the least of his concerns. He only rode at night, spending the daylight hours sleeping under bushes and pine branches, with Napoleon’s reins wrapped around his wrist, well hidden from the eyes of Confederate patrols.
He was still behind enemy lines, but expected to reach camp sometime tonight. He pushed the big horse hard, keeping him moving at a fast pace throughout the night. The horse’s feet flew, splashing through icy streams and muddy, half-frozen banks, easily handling the uneven terrain. David and his horse headed ever closer to the massed blue army, leaving Pleasant Run Manor farther and farther behind.
The moon was high in the clouds when he saw and smelled the many flickering campfires on the battle-beaten plains of Virginia. His heart gave a leap of pride and anxiety. What kind of reception would he get—a welcome or a rope?
Without hesitation he guided Napoleon toward the camp. They were right where Jenny had said the great Union army could be found. As he approached the encampment, a man on picket duty challenged him.
