His Civil War Bride

by Christine Sterling

  “Who else could it be? Mrs. Brennan had her grocery basket taken from her right as she was headed home.”

  Peyton and Catherine gasped.

  “On her way home?” Catherine repeated.

  “Yes. She was leaving the mercantile and a man jumped from the alleyway, grabbed her basket and ran.”

  “Was she hurt?” Peyton asked.

  “Fortunately, no. She was simply shaken.”

  “Could she identify the man?” Catherine asked.

  Mrs. Fuller took another sip of tea and shook her head. “She had a vague description, but that matches so many of those men in the field.”

  “Just thinking about all those men in the field, unnerves me. I am afraid of having that many men so close to our homes,” Catherine said.

  “Stop your fear mongering, women!” Peyton’s father came to the door. “It was two isolated incidents. What was taken was food and some loose coins. Mr. Wilbur hit his head on the doorframe when going after them. The men didn’t hurt him in any way. That tells me those men were hungry.”

  “But Father, you mentioned that you didn’t want us to go anywhere near them. Do you think that there is any danger?”

  “No, daughter, I don’t. There might be one or two unscrupulous ones, but that is the same in every society. These men want to fight. They are taking up arms against the confederates. They are fighting for freedom. I don’t want you to go there because there is no need to put temptation in front of any man. “They are only here for a little bit.”

  “I know, but the looks of some of them…” Catherine gave a little shudder. “I don’t think we should venture up that way until the soldiers leave.”

  “That is silly, Catherine. If we are together, I’m sure nothing will happen.” Peyton thought for a moment as she finished her tea. “Perhaps Christian or Justin could escort us.”

  “Men have more important things to do than escort women on their shopping nonsense. I know Christian was having a meeting with the Regiment Commander today. Smart boy, that one. You did good, Catherine.”

  Catherine blushed under the praise. Peyton wished her father would lavish the same kind of praise on Justin.

  “Did Justin go to see the Colonel?”

  Her father gave a sharp bark. “I doubt he has gotten out of bed yet.”

  “Father!” Peyton said. “I thought you liked Justin.”

  “The man has ambition, if he would only take action.” Mr. Fuller looked at Peyton and his face softened. “I like him because you like him, daughter. I only want the best for you.”

  “How about Juba?” Mrs. Fuller offered. “He could watch you when you go to the shopping district.”

  Juba was an escaped slave and employed by her family as a manservant. “That sounds like a good idea,” Catherine agreed.

  “I’ll mention it to him,” her father said. “I’ll be in my library if anyone needs me. I just got word that we are expanding the railroad to the camp so supplies and men can be taken directly there.”

  “Isn’t that grand?” Mrs. Fuller said. “Another railroad contract for your father.”

  “That’s wonderful, Pa,” Peyton said.

  After her father left, Peyton realize that their conversation was the most her father had ever said in front of her regarding the goings on in town. Much of her news came in the form of gossip, or one of the small ladies’ magazines.

  “I feel almost sad for those men,” Catherine said.

  “I thought you were apprehensive about the men being here,” Peyton retorted.

  “Yes, but think of what they must have endured to come all this way.” Catherine laid her cup aside, gently coughing. “I wonder how far they walked and if they must not have had enough to eat if they are stealing food.”

  “Catherine, you have truly gone mad,” Peyton said, taking one of the cakes from the tray. She took a dainty bite and allowed the sugar to explode in her mouth. Mary, the family’s cook, made the best sweets. “Is Mary making a cake for the church picnic?”

  “I asked her to. I think that Reverend Harris has invited the few officers that are in town to the picnic on Sunday.”

  Peyton’s mind immediately wandered to the handsome Colonel. She would like to see what he looked like up close.

  He was most definitely taller than she was. Then again, almost everyone was taller than Peyton. She inherited her grandmother’s height. A petite Scottish woman, she wasn’t a hair over five feet tall. Peyton at least had two inches on her grandmother.

  She recalled his eyes. She had never in all her years seen eyes that blue. They were the color of the sky on a cloudless day. She knew she could get lost in them if given a chance.

  Shaking her head, she chided herself. Stop it, Peyton! she thought.

  She was practically engaged to Justin. She knew he was going to propose to her. After all, they had been courting for nearly a year. There was just that little concern about the woman Peyton didn’t recognize. Perhaps Justin was simply trying to protect this woman’s reputation?

  Then why would he kiss her? Peyton hadn’t even kissed him. It would be deemed improper. These thoughts swirled through Peyton’s mind until she heard Catherine call to her.

  “Where did you disappear to?”

  Peyton shook the cobwebs from her head. “I just went back to thinking about that woman.”

  “What woman?” Mrs. Fuller asked.

  “We saw Justin this morning. He was with a woman I didn’t recognize.”

  “Hmmm. Did you greet him?”

  “No,” said Catherine. “He didn’t see us, and we needed to go to the mercantile.”

  “How peculiar. I do recall Mr. Fuller saying that a cousin was coming to visit.”

  “I wonder why Christian didn’t say anything to me about it?” Catherine mused.

  “He was probably busy with preparing for the men to come to town. I know that your Mr. Miller has a head for business.” Mrs. Fuller leaned back and peered out the window. “I do believe that is him coming up the road.”

  Catherine ran to the window and waved. Soon there was a knock on the door and the sound of Kisse’s footsteps followed by louder, heavier ones, were heard through the hall.

  “Mrs. Fuller. Mr. Miller has come to call.”

  “Thank you, Kisse. Christian, please do come in,” Mrs. Fuller offered.

  Christian held his hat between his hands. “Thank you, but I really can’t stay. I need to speak to Miss Catherine, if I may.”

  “Of course,” Catherine said, rising to leave the room. “We should try again for the commissary tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder to Peyton.

  Peyton could hear the murmurs between her friends as they headed to the door, but she didn’t hear the door open or shut. Catherine must be bundling up against the cold, she thought.

  Peyton swirled the teapot to see how much tea was left, before pouring herself another cup. She took a sip and grimaced. There was a fine line between brewing a perfect cup of tea and crafting a bitter brew. The tea had turned bitter from sitting for so long.

  As she set the cup down a loud piercing scream came from the foyer. It sounded like an animal in distress.

  Peyton and her mother only spared a moment before rushing to the foyer to see Catherine collapsed on the ground sobbing.

  “What is it?” Peyton asked. When Catherine didn’t respond, she looked at Christian.

  “I am volunteering to be the Supply Officer for the Army.”

  “That’s wonderful news!” Peyton said. “You were wanting to build a business.”

  Catherine wailed louder.

  “No, it’s not like that,” Christian said. “I’m volunteering.”

  “Volunteering what?”

  “Sweet Peyton. So innocent,” he said. Christian reached down to help Catherine stand. “I’m signed up to be an officer in the Union Army.”

  Peyton hadn’t seen her best friend for nearly a week. When she walked down to the Green’s house, she learned that Catherine had take
n to bed and not moved since she heard the news of her fiancé. She didn’t want any visitors at all. Not even Peyton.

  Today was the picnic at church and it was a glorious spring day. She knew Catherine was looking forward to the picnic, so perhaps she had finally come around to receiving visitors.

  Peyton looked forward to the picnic every year. She had been attending since she was a little girl. This was an opportunity for everyone to shake off the winter weather and welcome the spring through prayer, fellowship and food. Three of Peyton’s favorite things.

  Peyton wore her green dress with the strawberries on it, as she didn’t have time to have a new one made.

  She still didn’t know what she was going to do about the Adams’s gathering next week. She had heard talk that the ladies were excited to show off their new gowns and make an impression on the unmarried officers.

  It was such a bother that Mrs. Godey had shifted from making corsets, undergarments and gowns to crafting uniforms!

  Not even Mary could assist her, as she was now helping cook at the camp. Thankfully she hadn’t left all her duties working at the Fuller home. Kisse, no matter how sweet, just wasn’t as good of a cook as Mary.

  Her parents had already left for morning services. Peyton wanted to quickly visit Catherine and then they could walk together.

  What would Peyton do without her best friend? They shared everything and she needed her friend’s counsel on strange dreams that Peyton had been having all week.

  She wasn’t surprised that her friend had taken to bed. After all, her fiancé had just joined the Union Army. Christian enlisted the day after he made the proclamation and was now making his rounds to the various families in the area to secure provisions.

  Peyton still hadn’t seen any sign of Justin. He promised to call, but never did. She thought for sure she would see him at church today. He wasn’t there, but the strange woman was. She would have to ask Mrs. Harris if she knew the woman.

  Mrs. Harris was the reverend’s wife. She considered it her Christian duty to know every parishioner that came to the small Episcopal church.

  Peyton waited the entire service before rushing outside to see if Justin was anywhere around. The sound of laughter reached her ears and she turned to find four men in Union uniforms surrounded by at least a dozen women in day dresses with large hoop skirts.

  She glanced at the men; each was handsome in the dark wool jacket with matching pants. Each wore a floppy type cap with gold embroidery and what looked like gold tatting on the top of the hat.

  Her eyes skimmed the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Colonel. She didn’t see him in any of the small groups that were talking. She knew that she would recognize him because of his height. He sat very tall, taller than the others, in his saddle.

  Peyton looked around for Justin once more. Her eye caught Mrs. Harris waving to her. The elderly woman was standing next to Peyton’s mother. Peyton lifted her hand in greeting and Mrs. Harris waved her over.

  Peyton weaved her way through the clusters of people standing in the church yard talking. Her mother and Mrs. Harris were on the far side near the tables laden with all sorts of delicious dishes and desserts.

  Peyton could see that Mary, in fact, had made a cake. Peyton loved Mary’s sour milk cake with buttermilk frosting.

  When she arrived at the table, Mrs. Harris gave her a quick hug. “I was just saying to your mother how absolutely lovely you look today.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harris.”

  “And such a lovely dress too. Green is your color. Why the strawberries remind me that summer is just around the corner!” Mrs. Harris gave a hearty laugh.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harris,” Peyton said turning her attention to her mother. “Have you seen Justin?”

  Mrs. Fuller looked around. “No, I’ve not.”

  “Why, you should look at one of these fine officers. I know any of them would be delighted to court you.” Mrs. Harris waved her arm around the crowd.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harris, but I have a beau.”

  A pained look flashed across her mother’s eyes and then quickly disappeared. Did she know something? Was Justin alright? Panic filled her chest. Had he volunteered as well? The thought made her feel faint. No wonder Catherine had taken to her bed.

  “Ah! Miss Fuller,” Reverend Harris said, coming up to greet them. “There is someone I would like you to meet.”

  “Of course, Reverend. Please excuse me,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She followed the reverend across the yard towards a shady spot where several benches were surrounded by trees. “Have you seen Justin today?” she asked as they were walking.

  The reverend stopped so abruptly that Peyton nearly ran into his back. He turned and looked at her. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t see either Justin or Christian Miller.”

  “Christian was over with Catherine Green. She is not feeling very well.”

  “Terrible stuff, this talk of war,” he said, turning and leading her to the far side of the table. “That is why we are not going to talk about it.”

  “I wasn’t talking about it. I was asking where Justin might be.”

  “It is a strange thing indeed when a man has to account for his whereabouts,” the Reverend mused. “Ah, here we are.”

  The Reverend stopped again, but this time Peyton managed to catch herself before running into his back. He turned to take her arm, and pulled her forward. “Miss Peyton Fuller, I would like to introduce Colonel Mason Stout.”

  Peyton let out a little gasp, as she stared into the crystal blue eyes of the man who haunted her dreams.

  Chapter 5

  Peyton heard the reverend clear his throat. She shook her head but couldn’t take her eyes off the Colonel’s handsome features.

  He was tall; much taller than she imagined. He was well over a foot taller than she. Her neck almost hurt looking up at him. She ignored the twinge and allowed her eyes to roam over his face freely.

  His hair was longer than she thought when she saw him the day he rode into town.

  He was clean shaven with a square jaw and a tiny cleft in his chin. He had a long nose, and dark lashes framing those blue eyes that she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Peyton couldn’t think of what to say. The mere task of stringing words into a sentence escaped her. She felt her mouth open and shut several times, but not a sound escaped.

  “Miss Fuller?” the Colonel asked, snapping her from her trance. “Are you unwell?”

  As the words registered in her brain, she realized she had been staring at him. “Colonel Stout,” she said, giving a little bob in greeting. “Welcome to Harrisburg.”

  Welcome to Harrisburg? Is that all you could manage? She silently scolded herself.

  “Thank you. Pleasure to meet you,” he replied.

  His blue eyes were sparkling as he took Peyton’s hand in his leather glove and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of her hand.

  Peyton felt a shiver as his lips brushed against her gloved hand. “Were you at services this morning? I didn’t recall seeing you there.”

  The Colonel shook his head, releasing her hand. Peyton felt the loss immediately.

  “No. I attended them at the camp.”

  “Oh, is there a church in between all those tents?”

  Mason laughed. The rich sound tickled Peyton’s ears. “We have an open church service. There is a non-denominational minister that is serving the men right now. Reverend Harris was kind enough to extend today’s festivities to anyone that wanted to attend.”

  Suddenly a blond child, no more than ten, ran up and stopped in front of the Colonel. “Can I go to the creek? I’ve been invited by them to go play.” He pointed to three boys that were waving sticks in the air.

  “Yes, thank you for asking. Do you know when you need to be at the stables?”

  The boy nodded. “Right after lunch. I have drum practice.”

  Peyton watched as the Colonel ruffled the boy�
�s hair. “Good job. Now go play.”

  Suddenly a terrible thought came over Peyton. He had a child! What if he was already married?

  She must have voiced her question out loud and was absolutely mortified when he answered. “No. Pup isn’t my son. He is one of the volunteers. No, I’m not married.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” Peyton said, putting her hands against her cheeks. “What must you think? I didn’t mean to pry.”

  The Colonel threw his head back and laughed. “Not to worry. You didn’t ask for any secrets.”

  “Would you tell me if I did?”

  The Colonel took her elbow. “I don’t give my secrets away, Miss Fuller,” he laughed. “The Reverend is about to say the blessing and I can’t wait to dig into the wonderful luncheon that you ladies laid out. It has been rather sparse at the camp.”

  Peyton allowed him to escort her back over to the table where folks were gathering for the meal. She noticed he walked with a pronounced limp and winced a few times as he stepped over the soft earth.

  “I didn’t contribute anything,” Peyton finally said. “Well, Mary, our cook, did.”

  “You don’t cook, Miss Fuller?”

  Peyton laughed. “No. I don’t.”

  “Might be a skill worth knowing.”

  “Why’s that?” He didn’t respond, so Peyton decided to discuss something else. “You called that boy Pup? What kind of name is that?”

  “It is his name. The name he told me when I met him.”

  “He doesn’t have a real name?”

  “He does, but he prefers to be called Pup.”

  “You said he was a volunteer. He is only a child. He can’t be more than eight.”

  “He’s eleven.” Mason turned and looked at her. “Would you sit with me at lunch today?”

  Peyton felt that little flutter again. “I-I’d be delighted.”

  She learned his name was Mason. Mason Stout. She repeated it in her head, allowing it to silently roll off her tongue.

  He carried her plate to an area where pews had been brought outside to create seating. Peyton backed up to the bench and lifting the frame of her hoop slightly, she sat down on the hard wood.