The Fragrance of Her Name

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  It had been over three quarters of a year since she and Nana left Franklin, Lauryn reflected. It seemed hard to imagine they had been gone so long. It had been a glorious year in many ways, yet horrific in so many, many others. The war had ended. The world could be thankful for that. Yet the influenza had taken a massive quantity of human life. More people were taken by disease than men lost in the war. It seemed unfathomable to Lauryn that she should have been spared by the influenza’s merciless, murderous rampage. Then she realized it had been nearly six months since the influenza struck and took her father.

  Lauryn’s mother had sent word that she and Nana were not to return home, as her father had fallen ill. It was a mere six days later that they received word of his death. She and Nana were not even able to attend the funeral! Her younger brother, Patrick, had contracted the disease and they were advised not to travel. Nana was heartbroken that she could not attend her son’s wake to say her last good byes. It was nearly unbearable for Lauryn as well. She missed her father! What would home be without him? She wondered if it would even seem like home. Her father’s presence dominated their home; his love permeated every inch of it. A part of her was frightened at life without him. And yet, she was beginning to heal. The past months away from home had forced her to heal.

  Lauryn closed her eyes and tried to dispel the visions of the evils that had devastated the world—the evil of war and the sickness of influenza. Oh, how she missed her mother and siblings, her friends in Franklin! The train could not arrive in Tennessee quickly enough for her.

  She dreamily imagined her beloved Connemara House. She was so glad her great grandfather O’Halleran had named it after the place of his birth, a little known region in Ireland. It couldn’t have been more beautifully named. It was exciting to anticipate that in a few months spring would be nurturing the tiny buds of the prolific wisteria vines and trees that covered the grounds at Connemara so that…. ahhh! Lauryn could almost smell them, almost feel the fragrant lavender blossoms that hung heavy on the vines. Inhaling deeply, eyes still closed, she tried to envision what the house had looked like the spring before she left.

  The wisteria was beautiful that spring! Even with the war raging abroad, even with the ever-oppressive anticipation of good news or bad that prevailed upon everyone at home, the wisteria at Connemara was beautiful like a promise that God had not forsaken the world. Lauryn loved to watch the long clusters of blossoms dance softly with the breezes among the green of the vine's leaves, spilling out their gently intoxicating scent. It seemed to be the pure perfume of Heaven.

  And, yes, her family—the loved ones of her heart. How wonderful it would be to see everyone! They were the spirited souls that made Connemara a piece of Heaven. Lauryn had missed them all! And her father…she opened her eyes to dispel the vision of him, concentrating on those who remained. She imagined her mother kneading bread dough and then busily cleaning up the kitchen while it was set to rise.

  Patrick would be waiting, very impatiently, for Nana and Lauryn's return. There would be someone else to assist him in setting up his toy soldiers and shoot them down with pebbles to imitate the terrible war that had raged overseas. Who? None other than Lauryn. It was a certainty that elder brother Sean was too busy with his wife, Melinda, and new baby, Junie, to find a moment to entertain his wee boy sibling. Over the past long months, Patrick’s letters had pleaded with Lauryn to return for he had not one worthy playmate—no one whose aim with a pebble was as deadly to a small tin soldier as his older sister’s. And how absolutely wonderful it was to now have a small niece to spoil and love! She could just imagine the wonderful scent of the new baby's head and soft fuzzy hair. Yes, the new baby would be especially fun to greet.

  And Penny! Her dearest friend! Penny McGovern would have returned from her time away as well. Letters just weren’t the same as giggling face-to-face. Lauryn thought of the days she and Penny had spent playing on the grounds of Connemara. She smiled remembering their pretended romances with Henry, the ancient statue that stood weathered and worn just outside the gate that led to the family cemetery. In her mind’s eye, Lauryn could still picture the way Penny demonstrated how to properly kiss a boy using Henry’s granite lips as proxy. Lauryn cleared her throat, realizing she had giggled out loud. Yes, it would be fabulous to see Penny again.

  However, of all the people she’d missed, it was the Captain Lauryn was most excited to see! It had been nearly intolerable to be parted from him for so long…and yet, almost a peaceful respite for her mind. Would he visit her immediately, she wondered? Would he wait until she had been home for several hours or days? She could not wait to see him! How she hoped he would not tarry in seeking her out. Even now she could imagine his standing before her—his countenance so uncommonly handsome, his eyes searching hers familiarly, his uniform as inspiring as that day he'd first donned it before going off to war so long ago.

  Closing her eyes once more, Lauryn sensed a smile spread across her face and a comforting warmness fill her body at the thought of him. How she longed for his company. And, it was only natural that her mind then wandered back to the first time she met him, so very long ago…when her child's heart was pure and open to believing all that it needed to believe.

  

  "Speak to me, sir! 'Cause y’all'r givin' me a fit of the shivers worse than I ever had ‘em before!" the young Lauryn ventured as she starred in awe at the manly apparition standing before her. Instantly, she felt reassured when the man hunkered down to meet her face to face, an enchanting grin spreading across his features. My! He was handsome!

  "No need to be scared of me, little one. We already know each other," the man said.

  "I have to say it, sir…I never in my life remember meetin' up with you! And I'm sure that I would if I had," Lauryn told him. His chuckle was like deep, rich honey and warm summer bees buzzing, and Lauryn liked it.

  "Well, now…maybe I was a little soon in saying that we know each other. I know you, anyway. I remember the day your Mama had you, the day you sat up and took notice of the world, and I know today's your eighth birthday. And, I believe if you think about it very hard, you can tell me what you've learned about me by rummaging through that trunk this afternoon."

  Lauryn loved a challenge or a game and this seemed to be both to her at that moment. "I know your name is Brandon. And I know your wife's name is very close to my own…Lauralynn. I think this here is y’all's weddin' portrait and I think you're as handsome as she is beautiful. I think that there near-bolt of fabric was her weddin' gown and I think…by the manner of your uniform, Sir…that you were a Yankee!"

  Again the gentle laughter. "You're a smart girl, all right, Miss Lauryn. And I knew you would be. Anything else?"

  She may have been only eight years old, but Lauryn had a very discerning mind and as she looked at the man and at the likeness in her hand and at the well-cared-for trunk she said, "Y’all'r a ghost. And ghosts only come back to see the livin' if they're in some kinda trouble or havin' a worry.” She wrinkled her tender brow for a moment thoughtfully and then continued, "I've seen Miss Lauralynn's paintin' in the library, but I never knew her story exactly. Only that it was tragical. Never thought 'bout askin'...before now. But I think…I think tragedy must be with you, too. And I think that's why you roam around the grounds here searchin'. Are you lookin' for Miss Lauralynn, sir?"

  The man smiled, though his eyes showed a deep, sorrowful pain. "I am, Miss. I am. And you're the one to help find her. I've been waiting until you were old enough to understand, and I think you are. I'm Captain Brandon Masterson," he said standing. "Brand to my friends. And I'll be here whenever you need me, Miss Lauryn. And I hope that someday you'll be willing and able to help me find my Laura…my sweet Lauralynn. Now, go on down to your grandmother. She's got a story to tell. And after your party tonight, you and I will have a talk, okay?"

  "Yes, sir!" Lauryn exclaimed jumping to her feet and starting for the attic door. "Oh, wait! I've got to tidy up the trunk!" she said co
ming back to stand by it.

  "Oh, you leave that to me, sweetheart. You leave that to me," the ghost mumbled. And even at a young age Lauryn understood a person’s…a spirit’s need for privacy, and she left the room closing the attic door behind her.

  "Nana? Where are you?" she called as she dashed down the stairs of Connemara House.

  

  "Lauralynn was my older sister, child," Lauryn's Nana told her as she sat in the rocking chair on the front porch that day, staring out at the beautiful greens of summer. "She was ten years old when I was born, and I was only eight…just your age today…when I saw her last. The war was comin’ to an end...but now...let me start before that, darlin'. Long before.” Lauryn settled herself at her grandmother’s feet, crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap and looked up anxiously at the wise woman. As the fragrant summer breeze swept across her face, Lauryn Kensington began to learn of the dark tragedy that had veiled her family for over fifty years.

  "Go on, Nana. Go on. It's hours and hours before Daddy comes home for my party. Tell me the whole story. No matter how long it is!"

  Virginia Kensington drew a deep breath and began again. “My daddy, your great granddaddy was…”

  “Kiel McCrea O’Halleran!” Lauryn interrupted proudly.

  Nana smiled. “That’s right, sweet pea.” Nana reached down and caressed Lauryn’s cheek lovingly. “He came to Tennessee in 1835 from Connemara, Ireland. He was 22 years old, highly educated and had enough money to buy this land and build Connemara House. He was Franklin’s finest doctor, you know, angel.”

  “I do know it, Nana,” Lauryn giggled.

  “Then I'm tellin’ things you know already.” Nana paused and brushed a stray curl from Lauryn’s cheek. “My daddy was Kiel, my Mama was Erynn Shayla Keenan and they were married in 1836 when Mama was sixteen years old. Their first baby was my oldest brother Eathan. Then came Erynn, then William, then Sean, then Lauralynn, then…then baby John. My sister Lauralynn was ten years old when Mama finally had me, and I was the last. Lauralynn was my perfect, beautiful big sister, and I thought the sun and moon and the stars in the heavens danced to her will. Oh, she was the most beautiful girl in Franklin and nobody would argue it. We all called her Laura.

  “Well, the summer that Laura was 14, Daddy went to Knoxville and hired up a couple of young men to help out around the grounds. Daddy didn’t own slaves. He only hired on folks, no matter their color, and paid them wages. Daddy was an Irishman and he’d seen how people treated the Irish, and he didn’t think it was right. He didn’t think slavery was right either.”

  “He was a wise man,” Lauryn interrupted.

  “Yes he was, angel,” Nana chuckled. “Consequently, we had a hard time hirin’ local boys to come and work. And all the other black folk…well, most were still slaves. So Daddy hired two nice boys from over in Knoxville to help him out. Daddy knew a couple of families over there that had boys they wanted workin’ for the summer. One of them boys was Brandon Masterson. We called him Brand.” Nana smiled. “I guess Brand had been givin’ his folks nothin’ but fits with his antics and pranks and they felt he needed to be developin’ his work skills. Needed hard work to settle him down a bit. So, they sent him down here with Daddy. Oh, he was a handsome one, that Brand.” Lauryn smiled and nodded and her Nana winked at her. “But, I guess you’d be knowin’ that yourself by now.” Lauryn nodded delightedly and Nana sighed as she continued.

  “It was love at first sight, Brand and Lauralynn. No one had ever seen the like of it! But they were young…Brand was only 17 and Lauralynn was just 14. Still…that summer everyone knew they were meant to be together. And then…then the war started. And Brand signed up Union. East Tennessee was more Union than Confederate, you remember hearin’.” Lauryn nodded, though she hadn’t really remembered owning the knowledge before that moment.

  “Lauralynn was heartbroken to watch him go. We all were. But Lauralynn and Brand were true lovers. At first, letters arrived a couple of times a week from Brand and Lauralynn wrote every day. Then the battle lines were more strictly drawn and Brand would usually send messages through other people or through couriers. I don’t know how he did it...but Lauralynn never had cause to wonder whether or not her soldier was thinkin’ on her every moment.

  Then, that second year of the war, Brand got wounded and was sent home for a time. Mama took Laura over to Knoxville to visit him and while he was recoverin’, Daddy let them get married--In August of ’63. It wasn’t hardly more than a year later that we lost Daddy and Laura…and then dear Brand.” Her grandmother paused, reflectively.

  But Lauryn couldn’t abide her stopping mid-story and begged, “Great Granddaddy and Lauralynn? And Brand? The same year?”

  “Yes. And Daddy and Laura were lost on the very same day, sweetheart,” came her Nana’s quiet answer. “You’ve heard so much about the Battle of Franklin….” Lauryn nodded as her grandmother continued. “How it was fought right here on these very streets! And in the fields around us! Connemara House was used to patch up the wounded or let them lie down while they died. Anyhow…Brand was off fightin’ elsewhere…but the battle that raged here…. well, the horrible part of it all, sweetheart, is that none of us really know what happened to Laura.”

  Lauryn’s brow puckered into a deep frown. “What do you mean, Nana? How could y’all not know what happened to her?”

  Nana wiped a single tear from her cheek daintily with her handkerchief. “November 30, 1864…everythin’ was chaos. Purely chaos. Men were bein’ hauled into the house by the wagonload it seemed. They couldn’t fit another poor soul into that big house just out of town that they were usin’ as a hospital. So…they were bringin’ them here. Mama and Daddy and me and Sean were helpin’ as much as we could. But I was so young and Sean had lost an arm in the war and was home, but still sufferin’ and weak. We did what we could…but we could hear the guns and the yellin’…the noise of the battle was so loud! And then Daddy went out to help some men bring in a soldier who had been shot just outside on our front lawn…and a stray ball hit Daddy square in the left shoulder. Mama nearly lost her mind when Daddy came staggerin’ in…but she stayed strong and tended to him calmly. The man who had been hurt was still outside…and there were balls flyin’ about and Yankees everywhere…and Laura had such a helpin’ nature…she ran out to help the man…and…and she was shot. The ball hit her low in her tummy. It was horrible! At the same moment that Sean was helpin’ Laura into the house, the Yankees surged forward a bit and tried to storm us! Our boys were fightin’ them off but it frightened Daddy and he told us all to hide. Sometimes I think, that because he was hurt, maybe his mind wasn’t just where it should have been. He hid Mama and Sean and me in the secret crawl space under the stairs…you know the one you children play in?” Lauryn nodded, knowing that the crawl space would never seem the same to her again. “And Daddy said he would take care of Laura,” Nana continued, “Mama argued with him…told him that he and Laura both needed carin’ for. But he said he knew where they’d be safe and he shut us in. I’ll never forget bein’ huddled up in that hidin’ closet, listenin’ to those wounded men cry out for help…the men that were still in Connemara House when the Yankees tried to get in.”

  Lauryn wiped the tears from her cheeks and shivered herself as her grandmother trembled at the memory. “Can’t imagine why a little girl of ten would have to see such things, sweet pea,” her grandmother whispered wiping her own tears. After a moment Nana began again, “Anyway…when things finally quieted down and Sean said we could come out of the hidin’ closet…Daddy was sittin’ in the parlor starin’ out the window like he’d just come home from seein’ a patient and was restin’ his feet. He…he was dead. Another ball had hit him in the forehead. And …and we never did find Laura.”

  “But …but where was she, Nana?” Lauryn asked. What could her grandmother possibly mean? How could she not be found?

  Nana’s tears ran profusely down her cheeks and she dabbed at them frantically.
“We couldn’t find her, darlin’. We looked everywhere…asked everyone. But no one had seen her. No one knew where Daddy had taken her…where she had gone or wandered off to. No one. Ever.” Nana wiped daintily at her nose. “Mama never quit lookin’ for her. On her deathbed she called out for her…apologizin’ for havin’ lost her.”

  “And…and what of Brand?” Lauryn ventured.

  “Brand came walkin’ down the street one day soon after the war had ended…he was sick, weakened and …and I think he knew. I remember when Mama told him…he dropped to his knees and cried like I had never seen any man cry. I’d seen men cry when they were gettin’ their legs sawed off and they didn’t sound as anguished and in such agony as our dear Brand was. I think he died of a broken heart. He was dead within the week. The doctor’s said things had been damaged inside his body…and that his makin’ the trip back to Connemara had been too much for him. But…but I think his heart broke right in two.” Nana paused for a moment, wiping her tears again with her now sodden handkerchief. “He loved her so, you see…we buried him in the family cemetery, leavin’ a space for Lauralynn just next to him,” she sniffled.

  Lauryn brushed the tears from her own cheeks. “He…he’s still lookin’ for her, Nana,” she offered.

  “I figured as much,” her grandmother whispered. “His last words livin’ were, ‘I won’t rest until I rest with Lauralynn’.”

  Then through her tears of heartache Lauryn asked, “Why me, Nana? Why did I see him? Was I the first?”

  Lauryn’s grandmother reached down and gathered her small granddaughter into her lap, hugging her tightly and smoothing her hair. “Why you? I don’t know. I think…I just don’t know. And were you the first to see him? No. I saw him, too. Once. A long time ago.”

  Lauryn smiled up at her grandmother. “You did?”

  “Yes, sugar. He and I met out by the gazebo when I was sixteen. ‘Are you lookin’ for my sister, Mr. Brand?’ I asked him. He nodded and smiled at me and he was gone.”