The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

“Well, that’s farther than any of them have gotten in quite a while. When do they plan to make this attempt?”

  “At midnight, tonight, when everyone is celebrating the New Year.”

  “Who are they?” Sergeant Haverkost asked. “I’ll go get ‘em ‘n bring ‘em to the colonel.”

  “No,” Colonel Sweet replied with an evil sneer. “Let’s let them think they are getting away with it. When they pop their heads up from the tunnel, we’ll have a little surprise for them.”

  “Colonel . . . my parole?”

  “Let’s see if you are telling the truth. If some prisoners show up like you said, I think we can work something out.”

  On the night they were to leave, the quad waited in anticipation of the beginning of the celebration. By draw, Pogue would be first. Albert had drawn second, but he said he would rather go last.

  “You want to see if the rest of us make it before you try, huh?” Jed teased.

  “Yeah,” Albert said. Of the four men, he was visibly the most nervous.

  Jed moved up to second, and Cade third.

  Outside the barracks they heard shouts and horns.

  “Hey, Rebs! This is the year the South loses the war!” one of the guards called.

  “All right,” Cade said. “Pogue, you’re first.”

  “Where’s Albert?” Jed asked, looking around.

  “I don’t know, I thought he was right here,” Cade said, noticing Dolan’s absence.

  “He must’ve got really scared,” Pogue said. “Come on, we’ll go without him.”

  Stepping out from the barracks, they crawled underneath then pulled the cover away from the opening to the tunnel. Pogue slipped down into it. Jed went behind him, and Cade was last.

  Cade had a moment of indecision. He was supposed to pull the board back over the hole, but he decided to leave it open for Albert.

  The men crawled quickly through the tunnel, then at the other end, which was beyond the fence, Pogue exited. Once he was out, he turned to help Jed.

  After Jed was out, he reached back to offer a hand to Cade.

  “Just where the hell do you Rebs think you’re goin’?” a loud voice challenged.

  “Get back! We’ve been caught!” Pogue shouted, just as the shots rang out. Pogue went down, and Cade, almost violently, jerked Jed back down into the hole. Crawling quickly the two men hurried back through the tunnel. When they exited the tunnel under the barracks, they collapsed the opening, then pushed over enough dirt to hide it.

  When guards came into the barracks, fifteen minutes later, Cade and Jed were “asleep” in their cots. The guards walked down through the middle of the barracks, holding a lantern, checking everyone.

  “All right, McCall, out of the bunk,” one of the guards said. “You too, Carleton.”

  Both men were jerked out of their bunks.

  “Are there any others, Sarge?” one of the other guards asked.

  “Nah, Dolan said only three would be goin’ out, ‘n one of ‘em won’t be comin’ back.”

  “Dolan?” Carleton said. “Dolan betrayed us?”

  “He didn’t betray nobody, Reb,” Sergeant Haverkost said. “What he done was his patriotic duty.”

  “That’s why he wouldn’t come with us,” Cade said.

  “Don’t worry Cade, Jed, we’ll take care of the son of a bitch for you,” a prisoner called out from the darkness, beyond the little golden bubble of light cast by the lantern one of the guards was carrying.

  “You ain’t takin’ care of nobody,” Sergeant Haverkost said. “Your boy, Albert Dolan is half-way to the railroad depot now. He’ll be safe back in Tennessee, or Mississippi, or whatever the hell Secesh state he come from, before you two boys gets out of the hole.”

  The hole was an underground dungeon beneath the guard house. It was eighteen square feet and, at the moment, there were twelve men in it. It had a “sink” to handle the body waste and the smell was so strong as to be nauseating. There was no heat, and the extreme cold was barely tolerable due to the shared body heat from overcrowding. The only food was bread and water, and practically no one was able to eat because of the stench.

  It wasn’t that hard for most to go without food, because the conditions were so brutal, that the maximum punishment for offenses was usually three days.

  Cade and Jed were given thirty days.

  News of the unusually harsh punishment spread throughout Camp Douglas, and when new prisoners would come down, they couldn’t help but feel compassion for the two men who had been in the hole so long.

  “You two are heroes,” one of the prisoners said. “The whole camp knows about you, ‘n ever’ one is prayin’ for you.”

  “Yeah,” one of the other prisoners said. “We figure that any of us who come down here can do three days easy, seein’ as you all have so much time to do.”

  “Hey, Jed,” Cade said, fifteen days into their confinement. “Growing up rich, like you did, I’ll just bet you never thought you’d wind up sleeping in a bedroom like this, did you?”

  “Ahh, a curtain here, a comforter there, it’ll be just like home,” Jed teased.

  “Not that I’m glad you’re in here, but, if I’ve got to be in this hell hole, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be in here with.”

  “Me too,” Jed said. “I’m damn glad you’re in here.”

  Cade reached up to run his hand through his hair, then he held it out toward Jed.

  “Here’s a couple of my pet lice, Alice and Jimmy. I’ll let you play with them.”

  “Now I told you to keep those two separated. Next thing you know, we’ll have a passel of baby lice to contend with,” Jed said.

  Both men laughed.

  “You two are crazy!” one of the newest arrivals said. “Nobody can stand this place more than three days!”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Cade said. “Once you get used to it, it’s not so bad. Especially since we get all the food you all won’t eat.”

  “Like I said, you two are crazy!”

  Cade and Jed laughed again.

  After thirty days of such restricted confinement, Cade and Jed were let out. Neither of them were able to walk, and would have had to crawl back to Barracks forty-one if it hadn’t been for some of the other prisoners who helped them.

  The first thing each of them did was take a bath to get rid of the thirty days of filth. The water was barely above freezing, but they didn’t care. At this moment the most important thing to them was to wash away the dirt, lice, and fleas. Getting clean again felt wonderful.

  “Pogue was right,” Jed said that night, when the two were able to stretch out for the first time in a month. “We did have a spy in our barracks. But who would have ever thought it would be one of the quad?”

  June, 1865:

  It had been six months since the failed escape attempt. During that time when things would get to the point of unbearable, Cade would take out the lock of Melinda’s hair, and dream of the time they would be together again.

  In that six months Cade’s eyebrows had regrown, and the scar on his forehead, though still visible as a purple hook, was no longer puffy tissue.

  Lee’s surrender at Appomattox had been in April and though there had been rumors of their impending release, it had not yet happened. Then, on the morning of June twentieth, Jed came running into the barracks wearing a big smile.

  “We’re going home,” he said. “They are setting us free, and giving us train tickets to wherever we want to go. Memphis, here I come!”

  “I need to go to Nashville,” Cade said. “From there, I’ll take a boat to Melinda. I mean . . .”

  “You don’t have to tell me what you mean. Do you think I haven’t seen you with that lock of hair? I tell you what. After you and your girl are married, come to Memphis to see me. As a wedding present, I’ll arrange for you to go, first class, to New Orleans and back on one of Pop’s finest paddle wheelers. How does that sound?”

  “I don’t care if we go in a rowboat, as long as
I’m with Melinda.”

  Jed laughed. “I guarantee you, we can do better than a rowboat.”

  The Ladies Munificent League of Chicago had taken literally the Christian injunction to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked. After providing some of the released prisoners with a big meal, they made clothes available as well, replacing the rags their uniforms had become with clothes that were either new, or in very good condition. As a result, when Cade stepped off the boat in Clarksville, he, unlike many of the other returning war veterans was wearing civilian clothes.

  Cade had thought to send his parents and Melinda a letter telling them that he was coming home, but he realized that he would be able to get here as quickly as any letter, so why not tell them in person?

  The distance from Clarksville to the McCall farm was about four miles, and as Cade walked the route, he was soothed by the whisper of the Cumberland River alongside. A rabbit hopped up, ran quickly down the road before him, then darted back into the weeds.

  “Hey, rabbit, why don’t you run on ahead of me, and tell my folks I’m home?” Cade said aloud. “Think they’ll be surprised? I wonder if I can talk Mom into making me a pot of chicken ‘n dumplin’s? Lord, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had chicken ‘n dumplin’s.

  “I wonder which I thought about the most?” he asked, continuing his soliloquy. Though, as he was talking to the rabbit, he didn’t look at it as talking to himself. “Did I think about Melinda the most? Or chicken and dumplin’s?”

  Cade pulled the lock of Melinda’s hair from his pocket, and addressed it.

  “All right, I’ll admit it, I thought about you more than I did chicken ‘n dumplin’s but it was close. Real close. So close that maybe I’d better never even tell you,” he finished, with a laugh.

  The farm hadn’t changed that much; the barn, the granary, and the smoke-house were still there. The windmill was a familiar sight. The house needed painting, there was very little about it to suggest that it had once been white. The steeply angled roof cut into much of the second story, and Cade could remember, fondly, reaching up from his bed to touch the wall which angled directly over his head.

  Looking over toward a large magnolia tree he saw the little family burial plot. All four of his grandparents were buried there, as was Hazel, the sister Cade had never known. Hazel was the first born, but she died when she was two years old, six months before Cade was born.

  But, wait a minute, there weren’t five crosses in that plot. There were seven! Who were the other two markers for?

  Moving quickly, Cade climbed the little hill, then stepped inside the low-level fence. The first cross he saw was for his father.

  Jonathan McCall

  Born in Kirkcaldy, Scotland August 5th, 1805

  Died March 10, 1865

  His father died in March? That was only three months ago. Cade felt an anger building up inside him. He was in a Yankee prison when his father died, and because of that, he didn’t even know about it.

  The other cross was on the far side of the plot. He knew it wasn’t his mother, if so, she would be lying next to his father. This cross was next to that of Hazel, so he knew it had to be for Adam.

  “Adam, I’m sorry,” he said aloud. “I should have kept you alive. It was my responsibility, and I failed.”

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped down to the other end of the little plot to examine the cross.

  In Memory of

  Cade McCall

  Sergeant, 33rd Tennessee

  Born 22 November 1843

  Killed in Battle, 30 November, 1864

  “What?” he said aloud. “What is this?”

  “Cade? My God, is that you?”

  Turning toward the voice, Cade saw Adam.

  “I thought you were dead!” Both brothers said the same thing at the same time, then, hurrying toward each other, the brothers had a joyful embrace.

  “What happened? Where have you been all this time?” Adam asked.

  “I’ve been a prisoner of war in Camp Douglas,” Cade said. “I wrote letters to Mom and Pop from prison. Are you saying they never received them?”

  Adam shook his head. “No.”

  “Well, I can’t say that I’m all that surprised. The way those Yankee bastards treated us, I’m surprised that anyone was ever able to get a letter through.”

  “I saw a cannon ball explode right beside you, and I saw you go down. The last time I saw you, you were lying in a pile of bodies, just outside the Yankee works. Then I went down with a minié ball in my leg, and wound up in a Yankee hospital in Nashville. I was paroled after that, but everyone said you were dead. Captain Hanner reported you dead, hell, you’re even buried in the Confederate cemetery at Carnton Plantation. Or at least, someone is buried under your marker.”

  Cade smiled and put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Well, little brother, as you can see I’m very much alive. I’m just going to go into the house now to see Mom, then I’m going over to the Waters’ place and see Melinda. I can’t wait to see her face when she finds out I’m not dead. Hey, you’ll be the best man at our wedding!” Cade laughed out loud. “You have no idea how I have been hanging on to that thought.”

  “We thought you were dead,” Adam said in a small voice.

  Cade stepped back to the cross that bore his name, yanked it up, broke it across his knee, then tossed it aside. “Well, as you can see, I’m clearly not.”

  “Melinda and I both thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that.” Cade started toward the house. “I hope seein’ me is not too big of a shock for mom. I’ll have to . . .” Cade stopped when he saw a young woman standing on the porch. “Is that . . .?”

  “It’s Melinda,” Adam said.

  “Melinda? How did she know I was coming home?”

  “We thought you were dead,” Adam said again, more forcefully than before.

  This time Cade listened, really listened, to what his brother was saying, and he realized that Adam was trying to tell him something, something that he didn’t want to hear.

  “Adam?” The eagerness and excitement in Cade’s voice was gone, replaced by a plaintive tone.

  “Melinda is my wife, Cade. We are going to have a baby.”

  If Adam had suddenly hit him in the stomach with a large club, it would not have been a more effective way of taking Cade’s breath away. He stood there for a long moment, unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. His head was spinning so that he wasn’t sure he would be able to stay on his feet.

  “I’m sorry, Cade. We thought you were dead,” Adam said again.

  Cade’s face showed both pain and rage, the expressions inseparable.

  “We thought . . .”

  “No!” Cade said, finding his voice. He held up his hand, and shook his head. “Don’t say that again, please, for God’s sake, don’t say that again.”

  “All right,” Adam said contritely.

  Cade expelled a long breath. “I’ll go see Mom,” he said, once more starting toward the house.

  “She isn’t in the house,” Adam said. “She’s living in the cabin with Julius and Effie.”

  “What? Why on earth would she be staying in their cabin?”

  “So Effie can take care of her. Cade, Mom’s not well.”

  “Not well? What’s wrong with her?”

  “I think it’s best if I let you see for yourself.”

  When Cade stepped up onto the small front porch of the little cabin a moment later, the black woman who opened the door gasped, and raised her hand to her mouth.

  “Oh, Lawd a’ mighty! Mr. Cade!” she said. “Is this real? You don’t be a ghost, do you?”

  “I’m not dead and I’m not a ghost,” Cade replied. His reply may have been a bit sharper than he intended, but he was really getting tired of the constant expressions of surprise over him being alive.

  “Oh, praise the Lawd!” Effie said.

  “I’m told that my mother is here and that you are taking
care of her.”

  “Yes, sir, yes, sir, she be here. Come in.”

  Effie stepped back and opened the door to invite Cade in. He saw his mother sitting at a table with both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. He was a little surprised she was just sitting there, surely she had overheard the conversation he and Effie had. But then he realized that she might just be trying to get over the shock of learning that he was alive.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said. “Your prodigal son has returned,” he added with a broad smile. Margaret McCall had always been a very religious woman and some of his earliest memories were of his mother reading the Bible. He thought she might appreciate the reference to the prodigal son.

  Margaret showed no reaction to the reference, nor did she even look toward him.

  “Mom?” Cade said, a little surprised by her lack of acknowledgement to his presence. He stepped up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Mom?” he said again.

  Margaret looked at him, and, for the second time in the last few minutes, Cade felt the breath leave his body. There was nothing in her eyes.

  “I like coffee,” she said.

  7

  CADE WAS DRINKING a cup of coffee, liberally laced with whiskey. He was in the dining room, sitting across the table from Adam, whose own coffee was as strong as Cade’s.

  Melinda was in the living room, sitting on the sofa, knitting. She had not yet spoken to Cade, at least not in words. But her eyes and the expression on her face, said volumes. Cade knew, without having to hear the words spoken, that she was shocked by his return, and filled with the pain of what might have been, but now could never be.

  “How long has Mom been like this?” Cade asked.

  “She was like this when I got back, and Pop said she had been this way for over a year,” Adam said. “It was Pop who moved her into the cabin with Effie and Julius, so Effie could take care of her.”

  “I don’t think she even knew who I was,” Cade said.

  “She doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know Effie, she didn’t even know Pop.”