by Ann Rinaldi
And then, as I was looking up into the vast blue sky for inspiration, through the branches of a nearby pine tree, my soul came alive again. For I saw, there on a high branch, looking down at me, the owl.
I stopped crying, knowing it was Louis's owl, because owls never came out in daylight. Everything would be all right now. What the owl would do to remedy my miserable situation, I did not know. But it would do something.
I sat watching it for a while, having a tête-à-tête with my fancies.
And then, in no time at all, he did it.
He swooped down low into the yard of the hen house, and before the chickens could even raise a fuss he grabbed one by the neck, did something that rendered it helpless, scooped it up, and carried it over to me, where he set it on the ground and then flew back to repeat this performance twice more.
When I had three dead chickens on the ground in front of me, he perched on the limb of the tree again and sat there staring at me with his unblinking eyes.
I stood up. "Thank you," I said. "Oh, thank you. You have rescued me again. Tell Louis thank you, dear owl." I held my arm straight out.
It took only a second or two for him to lift his wings and come and perch on my arm. He was gentle with his talons. He stayed just a moment, then bobbed his head and flew away.
I picked up the three chickens and started walking back to camp.
***
We stayed at Marietta for two more days and then they started shipping the women out on the trains. It was all great confusion, with some of them crying, some of them refusing to go, and soldiers pushing them on board and threatening them with guns.
And where, I wondered, was the emissary from Grandmother in Philadelphia? He should certainly be here by now. But how would I know him? He would be in a wagon, of course, but didn't they say that all stragglers would be arrested?
And weren't there Yankee soldiers all over the place, guarding the entrances and exits of the town? If he'd come, likely he'd been turned away, I decided. So it was a good thing—no, a blessed thing—that Carol and Viola had gotten those jobs as nurses in that field hospital. But what would happen to me? Would I be shipped on with Mulholland's bummers to Nashville? Or would I go to Atlanta?
And then we went out to forage on the plantation where I found the dog, and Mulholland discovered that I was a girl, and he took me to his brother's office. And it was agreed that I and Viola and Carol were to be sent home.
***
"The first thing I must do," I told Sergeant Mulholland, "is go to the field hospital over there and get my sisters."
"You do that. I have to get a replacement to tend to my bummers, fetch the horses, and get the rations. I need two hours, at least. We meet at the foot of the hill down there, Sam Conners, or—what did you say your name was, anyway?"
"Leigh Ann. Come on with me, Buster."
"Who's Buster?"
"The dog. I've decided to call him Buster. He's mine now. I'm taking him home."
"You remember one thing, Sam, or Leigh, or whoever you are. We get to your plantation and your brother don't have the money to ransom his wife, all of you come right back here, you got it?"
I nodded yes. We had the money. I wasn't worried about that.
I was worried about what Viola and Carol would say about the conditions I had agreed to that allowed us to go home. And then, before I had weaved in and out between the soldiers' tents that occupied the lawn between the military institute and the field hospital, the dog trailing behind me, I had decided what I would do.
I had to tell Carol and Viola that Mulholland wanted money for Carol's return. Carol would never forgive me if I did not. But I would not disclose the amount.
Mulholland and his brother, Major Tom, wanted at least five thousand dollars.
I did not know whether Teddy had that much money lying about doing nothing. But I did know that the silver Louis and I had buried that day under the tree was worth quite a lot. And hadn't Louis told me to use it, if push came to shove, to save the family?
And with Carol expecting a child, wasn't this saving the family?
I did not know which door to go in at the field hospital, but there were Yankee guards all over the place and soon enough I was called to account by one of them.
What was I doing on the grounds? Explain myself.
"I-I'm looking for Captain Ashton," I stammered. "My sisters work for him. It is important that I see him right away."
I was scowled at, patted down, and scowled at some more. I had to give my name. "Sam Conners."
What was I doing with this dog? He could not go inside. Didn't I know that? This was a hospital, not a kennel.
"Please, sir, is there some place safe you could keep him for me? He's my dog, and I'm taking him home. And I've come to get my sisters because they're going home, too."
"By whose orders?"
"Major Thomas Mulholland, sir."
That becalmed them somewhat. There were three of them tormenting me by now. One of them went inside to inquire whether Dr. Ashton did indeed know a scruffy, paltry excuse for a boy named Sam Conners. And in a short time he came out and said yes, the doctor did, and furthermore the doctor said the boy was to be treated with the utmost courtesy and respect. And was to be taken inside to the coffee room into the presence of his sisters.
Which put the three Yankee guards in a considerably contrary mood. Still, the doctor's words must have carried some weight, because they put a rope leash on Buster and brought him into a small unused office for safekeeping. Then they ushered me inside and down a main hall.
It was a hospital and it was not a hospital. It was easy to see that it had once been an enormous mansion. Rooms off the main hall were emptied of all furniture and filled with beds on which were sick men. Nurses moved between them. It had three stories, so I assumed the same scene was repeated on each floor as well as in the sunroom. From the kitchen came smells of good cooking. And I saw stacks and stacks of doctors' supplies in what must have been the office as I passed.
They took me to a small pantry with a table and chairs. The coffee room. The eating place.
There were Carol and Viola, waiting.
They jumped up and we hugged. "You finally came to see us," Viola said. Then she drew back and took my measure. She touched my face, tenderly. "Mulholland hit you again?"
"I fought him, but he was too strong for me. He knocked me about. I'm in fine fettle, though."
"We've got to get you out of his hands," Carol said.
I grinned. "I am. I'm no longer a bummer. I'm going home. This very afternoon."
They both gasped. Carol got tears in her eyes.
"So are the both of you. It's all arranged." And I proceeded to tell them how I had arranged it.
They listened in silence. Their eyes grew wider with every word.
"How much?" Carol asked.
"Whatever he and Teddy agree to," I said.
Carol nodded in understanding and I felt a sense of relief, but I should have known better. Any sense of relief I felt these days lasted only two seconds.
"I can't go home," Viola told me.
I stared at her as if she had said she had just decided to become a Yankee. "Why?"
She lowered her head. She folded her hands on the table in front of her as if she had committed some sin and was afraid to tell me. But I knew what it was. I had known all along, hadn't I? Even before I had come in here?
She and the doctor-captain were in love with each other. I knew that from the first day he had leaned over her cot and looked down at her so tenderly. And from the way she had looked up at him.
I had seen enough looks of love pass between Louis and Camille, hadn't I? And, in the end, just before she left, between Carol and Teddy? And hadn't I, God forgive me, seen the way Major McCoy had looked at me?
"I've got complications with my baby," Viola said softly, still not looking at me. Then she saw a nurse passing by out in the hall, got up and whispered to her, and came back to us. "I've s
ent for John. He'll be along momentarily and he'll tell you why I can't go home."
John, is it? I thought. Well, you've told me already, Viola.
He came. Momentarily. He came in an apron stained with blood, which he immediately whipped off on coming into the room.
His eyes twinkled when he saw me. "Ah, the little brother who isn't," he said.
I got up and went to him to shake his hand, but he gave me a quick hug instead. Then he looked at my face. "Been in a fight? What does the other guy look like?"
But he was not happy about my face, I could see that. He went immediately over to the sink in the small room, wet a towel under cold water, and held it to my face.
"Mulholland knocked her about again," Viola told him.
He sat down and drew me toward him as Teddy would have done. "You've got to stop with this boy business," he said. "Viola told me the why of it. Now I'm telling you the no of it. I'm going to put a stop to it here and now. Use my authority. This is unconscionable."
"Your authority as what?" I asked.
"Leigh Ann, don't be impertinent," Viola scolded.
But the doctor-captain only grinned at me. "As your future brother-in-law," he told me. "Your sister Viola and I are to be married. This weekend."
Well, so soon? I was not surprised. Now I know how Teddy feels half the time, dealing with us.
What would Teddy say, I pondered. I looked up at the doctor-captain. "Sir, I don't mean to be saucy, but you do love my sister, don't you?"
"Leigh Ann, shame on you!" Viola scolded.
"It's all right, Viola, really," the doctor-captain said. "The child is concerned about you. I'm a Yankee, remember. Yes, Leigh Ann, I love your sister, dearly. And I want to take care of her. I don't want to lose her. I realize we've only known each other about a week, but it's wartime and we're in love and a week is worth six months."
"Well then, you'd best explain to her why I can't make the trip home with her as she wants," Viola told him. And she proceeded to tell the doctor-captain about my plans.
"She's telling the truth about her condition," he said after Viola had finished. "She has complications carrying her child. The ride home would not only cause her to lose it, but endanger her own life as well. You don't want that to happen, do you?"
"And if she stays here? Will she be all right?"
"I'll make sure she is. We'll marry. And as my wife, she'll no longer be under arrest. She'll live in my quarters and be properly attended to before, during, and after the baby's birth."
Tears came into my eyes. "Will she ever"—my voice broke—"come home again?"
The doctor-captain took me on his lap, just as Teddy would have done, and held me while I cried. "I'll bring her home," he promised, "as soon as she and the baby can travel."
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
When it was time to go, Dr. Ashton walked down the hill of the Georgia Military Institute with me and Carol and Buster, to where Mulholland Bad Face was waiting with four horses all laden with supplies.
The doctor was dressed in his full military uniform. He held my hand all the way down the drive and let it go only when he stood before Mulholland, so he could draw himself up to his full height, which was considerable and which allowed Mulholland to observe at close quarters that he was a man to be reckoned with.
He introduced himself and Mulholland came to attention.
"I am here as a superior officer, as a friend, a soon-to-be-relative, and a spokesman for these women," he told Mulholland. "I do not know the intimate details of your mission, other than that you are to see them safely home. Whatever subversive reason you and your brother have for letting them free, I do not wish to know the details. I assume you will iron them out with this little girl's brother. And, from what I have heard of him, I wish you luck on that score. Especially if he finds out how you have treated her."
Mulholland offered no reply to that. What answer could he possibly give?
"But I will tell you this," the doctor-captain went on in the same even, steady, and authoritative voice. "I am keeping an eye out for the results. I have my spies. And if I hear that you so much as lay a finger on this little girl again, or in any way disrespect her or her sister-in-law Carol on the trip home, I will come after you with the full force of my authority. And I will have you placed under military arrest, stripped of your rank, and sent to prison. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Mulholland said meekly.
"I should whip you now," the doctor-captain said, "for what you have done to her already. It would give me great pleasure. The only reason I don't is that it would ruin my hands for surgery."
Then he turned to me, leaned down, and kissed me on the cheek and winked at me. He put his arms around Carol and gave her some last-minute advice about taking care of herself.
"Where's the other one?" Mulholland asked. "I was told there were to be three."
"The other one stays with me," the doctor-captain said. "She is to be my wife. Thus I am family."
He helped Carol mount one of the horses. "I'll take the other horse and rations," he told Mulholland. "You just get on your way. And remember what I said."
Before he waved us off, he stuffed a letter in my saddlebag. "This is for your brother Teddy," he said. "The least I can do, taking away one of his sisters, is to introduce myself and tell him of my experiences with all of you."
***
They had given me a tea-colored filly and Carol a long-tailed gray with a smooth gait.
We each had a bag of rations and plenty of water. Buster trotted faithfully along beside me, and Mulholland had given me my Enfield. I hoped he did not expect me to go into the woods to seek out any more mystical turkeys.
As we left Marietta, I perceived that this was another way I did not recognize. How many routes were there between Marietta and Roswell? About half an hour into our trip it started to rain, but the air had been sultry, not at all agreeable, so I was glad of it. Anyway, they had thoughtfully given us oilskins and hats, and Carol and I immediately put them on. I felt sorry for Buster, but he seemed to enjoy the rain.
The road, of course, became muddy. It rained copiously for about ten minutes; then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped and the Georgia sun came out again, but now the air had cooled and we took off our oilskins. Buster shook his ragged golden hair in a sort of celebration, then barked.
When we came to a curve in the road there was an overturned stagecoach. Six passengers stood by, all hurt in various degrees. Carol wanted to stop and help.
"What can we do?" Mulholland growled. "We have enough trouble helping ourselves."
Carol pouted, as I'd sometimes seen her do with Teddy. But she said nothing and we went on at a determined plod.
A postman in a mail buggy came at us going the opposite way and we had to move to the side of the road to let him pass. I wondered if I had any mail from James waiting for me at home. I wondered if he was still alive. Then I pondered if I should write to Major McCoy when I got home and tell him about my adventures.
Of course I will, I decided. Why not? I felt so much older now than when I had left home. I felt old enough to correspond with a twenty-three-year-old man, if Teddy would let me.
And then I realized that it was the first time in a long time that I found myself wondering if Teddy would allow me to do something. For how long now had I had to make my own decisions, with no Teddy to advise me, to guide me?
We passed some thickets of plums and I begged Mulholland to let us stop and pick some. Old Bad Face glumly agreed, and I got down off my horse and gathered a goodly amount and gave some to Carol. Oh, they were warm and luscious.
We continued on and soon we went by acres of cornfields. At some point here, without saying a word, Mulholland brought his horse to a halt, jumped down from his gray gelding, turned his back, and peed into the tall grasses at the edge of the road.
Carol and I just looked at each other in disgust. Clod-pate, I thought. The man is disgusting. He simply has no digni
ty.
We went on. From a thicket of corn a little way up ahead stepped out a young, likely-looking negro girl. Her apron, which she wore over a washed-out calico dress, was raised into a bundle, holding something. Her feet were bare.
Mulholland stopped and raised his hand. "Hello there," he said in his most cultivated voice.
"Hello." But she would not look at him. She lowered her head.
What she apparently held in her apron was a pot. And the fragrance of whatever she had in it drove us all mad.
"What you got there?" Mulholland asked.
"Soup," she said softly, "made of Indian corn, with salt and some bacon and some other things. Would you like a taste?"
Mulholland would indeed like a taste.
From somewhere in her apron she pulled out a wooden spoon, dipped it in the soup, and offered it to Mulholland. He got off his horse and went over to her. She spooned it into his mouth.
"Ummm," he said.
She gave him another spoonful. Then another.
It was like some kind of a religious ritual. Carol and I looked at each other, embarrassed. She was enticing him into the thicket of corn.
With each spoonful she backed up a little more and he stepped farther and farther into the thicket. Then he turned to us and said he must go and help her pick more corn so she could replace the mixture that he had eaten. And we should wait for him.
We waited for him in the sun for at least three-quarters of an hour.
When he reappeared he was almost apologetic, guilty for making us wait so long. They had to pick a lot of corn, he said. "Tell you what. About two miles up the road apiece, there's an inn. They serve decent vittles. We'll stop there for supper. My treat."
It was called Diamond's. They allowed us to come in with Buster, if he was good, which he was the whole time.
The place was crowded and Mulholland was extra nice to us, looking around all the while to see who was watching. He's looking for those spies the doctor-captain told him he has about, I told myself.