Day after day, night after night, he thought of Parmelia with her flashing blue eyes, gleaming red hair, dimpled smile, and the tilt of her head when she was angry. He longed to see her, to hold her. By the time Darrick was free to come back to Witherspoon and Parmelia, the war had started. He enlisted and hoped he wouldn’t meet any of his Southern friends on the battlefield.
If only his father hadn’t died in debt. If only Darrick hadn’t had to leave Georgia. If only Parmelia had understood. If only the war hadn’t started.
His life was filled with “if only.”
The guard saluted when he saw Darrick. “You found the missing mares, Captain.”
“I had an idea where they might be.” He opened the gate and led the horses inside the corral.
“Shall I put the bridles with ours, sir?”
“No, I’ll take care of them.” Slipping the bridles off, Darrick carried them. Returning them would give him another chance to see Parmelia. In the meantime, he had to tell the Colonel about the man in the woods.
Two days later, Darrick grabbed the two bridles and walked to the Bailey home at the corner of Peach and Oak Streets. This time, he went to the front door and turned the ringer.
Parmelia opened the door. She wore a dress that was neither lilac nor blue, but somewhere in between. The shade reflected in her eyes, making them darker blue.
“Darrick McDonald, what do you want?”
“I’ve come to return these.” He held out the bridles.
She grabbed them. “And you have. Thank you.”
She started to close the door.
Her grandmother called from behind her, “Parmelia, whatever are you thinking? Ask the young man in.”
With a roll of her eyes, Parmelia held the door open. “Darrick, do you want to come in?”
Parmelia’s mother, Martha, sat in the parlor mending a dress. She looked up from her needlework and focused her attention on him. Hair a softer red than her daughter’s was neatly coiled around the top of her head. Her face displayed the lines of frequent smiles. “Tell me how your mother’s doing.”
“Better, she’s doing lots better.” Darrick stepped into the parlor. “My sister Beth married a man who’s well set up. Mama and Lucy live with them now.”
“Wonderful. What does your new brother-in-law do that he can take on your sister’s family?” Martha put aside her mending.
Knowing Mrs. Bailey had a good heart, Darrick wasn’t offended by her questions. “He owns a factory that makes parts for trains.”
“Oh, my, that sounds interesting. Does your sister have servants?”
He blushed, remembering the embarrassment his mother endured when they’d lost their home in Witherspoon. “Yes, ma’am. Beth has a cook, a gardener, and two maids who help out.”
Martha beamed at him. “You don’t say? Oh, my, isn’t that just lovely? I always thought a lot of your mother. Send my regards when you write to her.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will,” he said, pleased that Martha was happy for his mother and showed no jealousy or bitterness.
Parmelia waited at the door. “Well, you’ve done what you came for. Good bye.”
Martha looked shocked. “Parmelia Ruth Bailey, show some of those manners you were supposed to learn at that fancy school in Atlanta. Darrick is a guest in your grandparents’ home.”
Parmelia crossed her arms. “He’s wearing the wrong color uniform.”
Ignoring her granddaughter, Parmelia’s grandmother indicated a chair. “Have a seat, Darrick. How long have you been in Witherspoon? I don’t remember seeing you since your family moved to Iowa.”
He remained standing but took another step inside the room. “I arrived three nights ago.”
Parmelia said, “If you’re hoping to renew old acquaintances, you’ll be surprised.”
Her grandmother sent her a quelling look. “Must seem odd to be back here, what with the War and all.”
“Yes, ma’am. Actually, I was sent here on special assignment.” He probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he wanted Parmelia warned. He looked at her. “Jeff Lawson has turned renegade. He and his men are headed this way, burning a trail as they go.”
Parmelia paled. “Jeff Lawson? No.”
Martha’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “That Lawson boy wanted to marry Parmelia. Didn’t bother to ask, just let her know she’d been ‘chosen’ by him for the so-called honor.”
Grandmother Bailey added, “And he was hopping mad when Parmelia turned him down. Said she’d be sorry.”
Darrick froze, his insides leaden at the thought of that ruffian Jeff Lawson near Parmelia. “He wanted to marry you?”
“I know it sounds odd to you, but some men find me attractive.” Her words were sharp, but he saw fear in her eyes.
“I meant no offense.” He stepped over and placed his hand on hers. She trembled as he led her to the sofa and gently pulled her to sit beside him.
“My men and I are determined to capture Lawson before he does more damage. He’s wanted dead or alive by the Confederates as well as the Union. Parmelia, please promise me you won’t leave town again.”
“I wouldn’t have before, but I had to warn Sarah.” She raised her hand to her throat. “Dear Lord, protect us. If Jeff Lawson has turned renegade, and if he and his men had found Sarah and her mother and sisters at home without protection...”
“You understand why I was sent here with a detail of six men I handpicked. General Grant wanted someone who knew the area.”
Martha appeared to mull over his news. “Yes, catching Jeff will need someone familiar with Witherspoon. He’s always been a bully, a braggart, and a layabout, but he knows every inch of the county.”
When Parmelia looked up, he saw the younger girl he’d known four years ago, the one who had loved him. Her beautiful, blue eyes were moist with unshed tears, her face pale with concern. He wanted to pull her into his arms, comfort and console her, but he didn’t think his attentions would be welcome.
“He’s ruthless, Darrick. You could be killed.”
At least she didn’t hate him so much she wanted him dead.
“I’ll do my job. My men and I are well trained. That’s another reason I’m here.”
“What do you mean?”
“About the man in the woods who tried to take your horse. Yesterday, my men and I combed the area you mentioned.”
“Did you find him? Was he still there?”
“He was there, but he was dead.”
She shook her head, shock evident. “Oh, no. You can’t think I killed him?”
“Not you. But he deserved it for trying to steal your horse or harm you. Looked like his left arm and leg were injured by your horse, but he died when someone slit his throat.”
She paled even more and sank back against the sofa. “I promise I didn’t do that.”
“Didn’t think you did. But someone else was there, either with him or not far behind him.”
“You think it could have been Jeff?”
“Can’t say, but for your safety, we have to assume it was. We know he’s headed this way. He knows the best ways in or out of town.”
Silence filled the room as the women apparently considered the threat.
He peered around the rooms in view. “Where are the Hardemans?”
“Mrs. Hardeman is, um,” Parmelia sighed and gestured helplessly, “well, there’s no other way to say it; she’s difficult.”
Grammy Bailey laughed. “That’s an understatement. After dinner, she insisted all three of her daughters help her to her room to assist her in undressing so she could rest before supper.”
Parmelia smiled at him for the first time and whispered. “I imagine they’ll need a rest after dealing with her.”
“You’ll warn them?”
“Certainly, but you needn’t worry. We have no means of transportation now. Besides, between Mrs. Hardeman’s almost constant demands and trying to care for the needs of a boy and seven women, we have no time or energy fo
r anything else.”
Grammy Bailey said, “Lawsy, that’s the truth.”
Chapter Four
When Darrick had gone, Parmelia rushed upstairs to see Sarah. She knocked on the bedroom door before entering. Sarah lay on the bed reading while Katie curled up as if she’d been taking a nap.
“What is it?” Sarah put down her book and slid to her feet. “You’re so pale. Are you ill?”
“What’s wrong?” Katie sat up.
“Darrick McDonald was sent to town because Jeff Lawson has turned desperado. Jeff has a group of ruffian deserters riding with him.” Parmelia looked at Sarah. “They’re headed this way.”
Sarah rushed to Parmelia. “Oh, Parmelia, no. Thank goodness we’re in the middle of town. For once I’m glad there are Yankees all around.”
Parmelia sank to a chair. “Sarah, I’m really frightened. We have to take precautions. Make a plan.”
“But the town’s surrounded by soldiers. Surely they’ll capture Jeff if he’s crazy enough to come here.”
“Think, Sarah. If Rob and I could leave town without being stopped by the Yankees, then Jeff Lawson can surely come here whenever he wishes.”
****
Darrick walked briskly back to camp. He shouldn’t have revealed his mission to a Reb family. But he couldn’t leave Parmelia and her household unaware. The thought of Lawson desiring Parmelia as his own struck dread in Darrick’s heart. More than ever, Darrick was certain Lawson would head here. Ruthless as he was clever, Lawson was certain to seek revenge against Parmelia for spurning him.
Darrick abhorred Lawson’s brand of revenge. He had to protect Parmelia and the others.
Darrick went straight to the colonel’s quarters in the town hall.
Colonel Dixon looked up from what formerly was the mayor’s desk. “Come in.”
“Sir, there’re new developments regarding Lawson’s Raiders. He fancied one of the young women in town before the war, but she turned him down. He told her she’d be sorry. He’ll be sure to seek revenge against her and her family.”
“From what I’ve heard about the man, it sounds likely.”
Darrick braced himself. “This is the same young woman who eluded your sentries, sir. Went through the woods to help a friend. Her information gave me the location of the man whose body we found yesterday. She’s lucky she escaped.”
The colonel glared at him. “I suppose this has something to do with the two missing horses that suddenly reappeared?”
Darrick cleared his throat and kept his eyes focused on the wall above the colonel’s head. “Yes, sir.”
“Do I need to know more about that?”
“No, sir. It’s resolved. The lone man may have been a scout or lookout, or he may just have been a deserter trying to get away.” Darrick looked at the colonel. “However, if a lone woman and a ten-year-old boy could slip out of town, Lawson can slip in.”
“I’ve doubled the guards around the perimeter.” He tapped the map on his desk. “Show me again where this mysterious young woman and boy encountered this man.”
“Yes, sir.” Darrick bent over the map. “Here’s where we found the body.”
“She didn’t know him?”
“I doubt it. She was frightened, and it was dark. She has no recollection of his face, just of the event.”
“To be expected. Damn lucky girl. Spunky, too.”
“Sir? She’s staying with her Bailey grandmother at the corner of Peach and Oak. It’s the big two story with round pillars at the front. Could you place a guard at her home?”
“Worth a try. I can only spare one man, but I’ll station him at the barn.”
When Darrick left the town hall and went down the steps, he passed old Mrs. Findley. He spoke to her, but she didn’t acknowledge the greeting, looked past him as if he weren’t there. He was used to that treatment since he’d returned in a blue uniform, but it still rankled. Witherspoon residents were lucky Union soldiers protected them, especially lucky to have a strict officer like Dixon in command. The man could just as easily have ordered the town burned. Or, he could have let his men take advantage of the women in town and chalked it up to spoils of war.
Darrick’s resentment built a head of steam, when Mrs. Buckley nodded and said, “Good afternoon, Darrick.”
He stopped short and nodded. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Buckley.” Perhaps not everyone in town was against him personally. Still, he wished he were free to return to Witherspoon after the war. To Parmelia Bailey. The Union would prevail, of that he was certain. He was also sure the end of the fighting was near. But no matter what the outcome of the war, he doubted he’d be welcome in town afterward.
He crossed the street and went into Brendan’s Mercantile.
Mr. Brendan’s stoic face hardly offered a welcome, but the elderly man asked, “Can I help you?”
Darrick peered around, then headed for the far wall. He picked up a spool of ribbon the blue of Parmelia’s eyes. “I’d like a...” He had no idea what he needed. He stretched out his arms. “About this much.”
“That’d be a yard. Don’t sell less.” Mr. Brendan measured the length. “Got a girl in town?”
Darrick ignored the owner’s question. “How much do I owe you?”
“Two bits.” Brendan glared as if daring him to complain.
Twenty-five cents for a nickel’s worth of ribbon? Darrick set a quarter on the counter. “And you didn’t even need a gun to rob me.” He stuffed the ribbon inside his pocket, picturing the blue threaded through Parmelia’s red hair. Drat, he had to quit thinking about her and do his job. In spite of cautioning himself, he smiled as he left the store.
On the boardwalk, two men waited, blocking Darrick from moving any direction but back into the store. Darrick looked from one to the other. He remembered from years ago that they’d hung around with Jeff Lawson. Were they still doing Lawson’s errands? The men were dirty and smelled as if they’d been sleeping with their horses.
Fred Price said, “Well, lookee here. If it ain’t our old friend McDonald.”
Cicero Young looked Darrick up and down. “Yes sirree. And all duded up in that soldier suit. But look, Fred, it’s the wrong color.”
Darrick said, “Fred, Cicero, step aside.”
Fellow soldiers spotted the confrontation and started to his aid. He shook his head at them. But he wondered what these two men were doing here? He hadn’t seen them around town since he’d returned.
“I have no quarrel with either of you.”
“Yeah, you do, you coward.” Fred stepped forward.
Darrick refused to back up. “Step. Aside.”
“You plan on making us?” Fred asked.
“If necessary, but I’d prefer to do this peacefully.”
Cicero chortled. “You’re right, Fred. He’s a coward for sure.” He shoved Darrick toward Fred.
Before either man could react, Darrick grabbed each one by the neck and knocked their heads together. He shoved them both to the street.
Cicero yelled, “You’ll be sorry. Wait ‘til Jeff—”
Fred kicked his companion. “Shut up. You crazy?”
“Wait until Jeff what?” Darrick asked. “You two scouting for him?”
Fred picked up his hat and dusted it off. “Never you mind what we’re doing. This is our hometown, and we got every right to be here.”
“Strange, though, young fellows like you standing around instead of enlisting in the army.” He pulled his gun. “Why don’t we take a walk to the town hall, gentlemen? You first.”
Fred protested. “You can’t arrest us. We never meant no harm. We was just having a little fun with you.”
He motioned them forward. “Fun’s over, boys.” Darrick signaled two of his men who’d been watching. “Lock these men up while I talk to the colonel.”
“Yes, sir, Captain.”
Chapter Five
Later that afternoon, Parmelia addressed the household and discussed the news about Lawson’s Raiders. “We need a pl
an. Something to alert us if someone breaks into the house.”
Mrs. Hardeman said, “Hmph. Anything you can do here, I could have done at home, which is where I should be now.”
Parmelia ignored her. “Does anyone have a suggestion?”
Mrs. Hardeman opened her mouth, but Sarah stilled her by placing a hand on her arm.
Sarah said, “We need something that makes noise.”
“Right,” Parmelia agreed.
“We could try what Old Mrs. Whittenberg used to do.” Mama turned to her mother-in-law. “Remember, Grammy? She was so afraid someone would try to steal from her. She used to pile things in front of the door and under windows at night.”
Grammy nodded. “Oh, yes. And if she forgot to move them before she told you to come in, there was a terrible racket when you opened the door.” She chuckled. “Not that this is funny, you understand, but it reminded me of how odd she was.”
Parmelia clasped her hands. “That sounds good. Rob, help me gather cans and bottles before it’s dark.”
Sarah gestured to her sisters, “We’ll help, too.”
An hour later, they had gathered a large assortment of discarded cans, bottles, bells, pieces of metal, and anything else they thought might cause a commotion if disturbed. They set about piling them under each first-floor window. In front of each door to the outside, they added cooking pots and pans. By bedtime, they had finished their alarm system and sat in the parlor.
Parmelia smiled. “No one will come inside our downstairs without one of us hearing the noise.”
Mrs. Hardeman said, “And what good is that? Even if you hear someone come in, what will you do?”
“There’s more to our plan,” Parmelia said. “We don’t have guns, but we have defensive weapons.”
Sarah and Katie carried in a load of large club-like sticks, jugs, and a battered trumpet they’d stored in the kitchen.
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