Morgan came out at once and took one look at Jolie in the back holding the soldier’s head in her lap. “What’s this, Jolie?”
“It’s Billy, Billy Seaforth. He’s been badly wounded, Morgan. He wasn’t getting any care in the hospital, so I brought him home.”
“You did the right thing. Amon, we’ll put him in the spare room. Bed’s all made up. Will that be all right, Jolie?”
“Yes, if you’ll bring him in, I’ll get some cool water and some cloths. I need to bring his fever down.” She moved inside and told Evetta what she had done.
“That poor young man,” Evetta said. “You say he ain’t got much chance?”
“That’s what the doctors say, but I’m going to pray that he’ll be all right.” She got the cool water out of the well and several clean cloths. When she got to the room, she found that Amon and Morgan had put the young man in bed. She said, “I’ll take care of him now.”
“You let me know if you need any help, Miss Jolie,” Amon said and left the room.
Morgan stayed and looked down at the pale face. “Well, Billy,” he said, “are you awake?”
“Yes…yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry to see you like this, but we’ll do the best we can for you. You know what a good nurse Miss Jolie is.”
“Yes, sir, I know that.”
“I sent a message to your parents, Billy. They’ll be out as soon as your mother is rested up,” Jolie said.
“You’re too good to me, Miss Jolie.”
“Not a bit of it. Now, we’re going to get that fever down.”
Jolie arched her back for she was tired. Billy had grown worse in the two days he had been there. His parents had moved in to the house. She had grown to love Mrs. Seaforth, and it hurt her to see how the parents were suffering.
She looked out the window and saw that the moon was high in the sky, a silver ball that casts its beam down on the earth. She went over to look out the window and tried to pray, but it seemed she had prayed herself out. The whole household seemed to be quiet in a strange sort of way, as if the wound of the young man had infected them all.
It was half an hour later when she heard Billy crying out in a feeble tone. Quickly she went to him and said, “What is it, Billy?”
“I don’t know. I feel…” He could not say any more.
Jolie felt his pulse. It was rapid and irregular, and this frightened her. Several times she called his name softly, but he did not respond. Quickly she left the room and went to knock on the door where his parents were. “Colonel Seaforth, Miss Amy, you’d better come.”
The colonel opened the door, pulling on a dressing gown. Behind him, Amy said fearfully, “Is it Billy? Is he worse?”
“I think so. I didn’t know what to do, but I think you should be there.”
They hurried down the hall to Billy’s room.
Morgan stepped out of his bedroom and asked, “Is Billy worse?”
“I think he’s dying.”
Morgan bit his lower lip. “Poor boy. I wish we could do more for him, but you’ve done all you could, Jolie. If he passes on, you won’t have a thing to reproach yourself for.”
Jolie said, “Maybe so, but I still feel so helpless.”
“So do I. This is the worst of war. So many young boys rode out with high hopes and excited about being in a war, being soldiers, and so many of them have died.”
Finally they crept inside Billy’s room and hovered just inside the door.
Amy was weeping already, and Colonel Seaforth was standing straight, as if he were before a firing squad.
The minutes passed slowly, and then Billy opened his eyes. He cried out, “Mother, is it you?”
“It’s me, Billy.”
“I’m glad you got here.” He turned to face his father and said, “Sir, I hope I’ve been a good son.”
“The best son in the world, Billy. The very best.” Colonel Seaforth’s voice was husky, and it broke at the last.
“Thank you, Father. Tell Edward I love him and…tell him…good-bye….” His voice faded. He took a deep breath, but he did not seem to expel it.
Colonel Seaforth moved around the bed, leaned forward, and kissed his son’s forehead. “Good-bye, Billy,” he whispered.
Amy Seaforth fell on her son and held him as best she could.
Morgan turned to leave the room, and Jolie followed, knowing she couldn’t possibly help the Seaforths in the depths of their grief. When she and Morgan were in the hall, Jolie said, “I can’t help crying.”
Morgan said, “I could cry myself. Maybe I will.” But he didn’t.
Jolie knew he was trying to be strong for her.
The rest of the saga was simple. The Seaforths arranged to take the body of their son away, and as they were leaving, they told Jolie and Morgan when the service would be.
Jolie watched the family leave, and sadness gripped her heart.
Morgan did not speak except to say, “We’d better get some rest.”
Jolie nodded and retired to her room. She had learned to love Billy Seaforth, as if he were her brother. It was a completely new feeling, and it overwhelmed her.
Jolie finally went to bed and cried herself to sleep.
It had been a week since Billy’s funeral, and Jolie had been very aware that Morgan was brooding. His morning rides were getting longer and longer, and when he returned he was unusually silent.
He came back from one of those rides and found her in the stables, currying Rowena. He dismounted and walked over to her.
She saw that there was determination on his face. “What is it, Morgan? You’ve been so troubled, I know it.”
“Jolie, I can’t let other men fight for me and for my land. It’s time. I have to join the army.”
Fear came to Jolie then. “I was so hoping that this day would never come,” she said miserably. “I wish you never had to leave me.”
“You’re a sweet girl, Jolie.” He put his arms around her and held her. She knew that it was the action of a man not with romantic overtones but simply with the desire to comfort her.
Desperately she clung to him and thought, I love him so much, and he doesn’t know it and probably never will.
He released her.
She reluctantly stepped back and asked, “When will you go?”
“Going to leave tomorrow. I’ve got to get this thing done.”
“We’ll wait for you to come back, and we’ll believe that you will.”
Morgan smiled at her. “You’re strong, Jolie. I’m proud of you. I always will be.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The following morning, Morgan packed his things, left his room, and found Jolie waiting for him.
“Do you have to go now?”
“Yes, I do, Jolie.” He saw that she looked troubled and felt a moment’s guilt. “I hate to leave you like this.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you were against the war.”
Morgan shrugged his shoulders. “It’s hard to explain, Jolie. I expect there are lots of men like me who hate slavery but have to defend their native states. As I told you yesterday, I just can’t let other men do my fighting for me.” He saw that she was afraid and said, “You remember now, if I don’t come back, you know where your money is. Amon and Evetta will take good care of you and help you.”
“All right.” She hesitated and then asked, “Have you told Leona about signing up?”
“No, I’m going to do that right now.”
“When will the army be leaving?”
He smiled briefly and shook his head. “I don’t have any idea, Kitten. To tell you the truth, I’m probably going to be stuck in Richmond since I’m volunteering for the quartermaster division. So don’t worry too much.”
“I can’t help it. You’ve already said that the whole Army of Northern Virginia will be going out to meet the Yankees.”
“I guess we will. They’ve got a new general named Pope. Nobody knows much about him, but he can’t whip Bobby Lee, as all of
our men call the general.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I know I don’t have to tell you to pray for me.”
She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a desperate hug. “No, you don’t. I’ll pray for you, Morgan. Always.”
Jolie watched Morgan ride away and felt a tremendous sense of emptiness. She had felt loss before, when her father died and when Billy died. But now there was anger mixed in with her grief, and she knew it was directed toward Leona Bledsoe.
He loves that woman, and she’s nothing but a flirt! She likes to play with men just like a child plays with dolls, and Morgan can’t see it. He’s a fool where that woman is concerned!
She reveled in her anger for a few minutes. But then she remembered what Morgan had said, and she said a prayer for him instead. Her anger dissipated like dandelion fluff on a strong summer wind.
“Morgan, I’m so glad to see you.”
Morgan had arrived at the Bledsoe residence and had been greeted by Leona, who had answered the front door.
“I was watching out the window, and I saw you ride up. Can you stay long?”
“No, I’ve got some news, Leona.”
“What sort of news?” Her eyes grew larger. She looked beautiful, her complexion glowing, her eyes luminous. Her wine colored dress set off her figure admirably.
“I’m joining the army, Leona. Today.”
Instantly Morgan saw that the news struck Leona as being something absolutely wonderful. She hugged him then pulled him by the hand toward the parlor. “I’m so proud of you! Come on, we have to tell my family.”
Morgan allowed himself to be pulled inside, and soon he was in the drawing room with Mr. and Mrs. Bledsoe.
“We’ve got news!” Leona said excitedly. She paused for dramatic effect and said, “Morgan’s joining the army.”
“Wonderful!” Mr. Bledsoe exclaimed. He came forward with a huge smile to shake Morgan’s hand. “I’m pleased to hear it, my boy. Very pleased indeed!”
Leona said, “Sit down, Morgan, and tell us all about it. Have you spoken to General Lee yet?” She patted the sofa for him to sit close beside her.
Morgan sat down and said slowly, “No, I have no intention of talking to General Lee. I’m just going into Richmond and volunteering for the quartermaster’s division. It’s hard to explain, but in the last year I’ve had lots of purchasing experience. I figure I’ll make a pretty good scrounger.”
All of the bright smiles around him faded. Leona repeated, “Scrounger?” as if it was in a language she had never heard. “But—Morgan, what will be your rank?”
“Private, I’m sure,” he said as lightly as he could. “I’m no military man, and I’m sure no officer.”
Benjamin Bledsoe was now frowning darkly. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling us that you know General Lee and Mrs. Lee personally, and he might even be said to be in your debt for the times you helped Mrs. Lee move around, and you aren’t even going to go to him and ask him to give you a commission? He could do it so easily, and he should do it!” When he finished, he was almost shouting.
Morgan said stiffly, “Mr. Bledsoe, I don’t mean to correct you, but you’re just wrong with that whole speech. General Lee owes me nothing. I helped Mrs. Lee because I’m her friend. And—and—you’re just wrong, sir. Wrong about him, and wrong about me.”
Leona said indignantly, “What are you talking about, Morgan? You’re not making any sense. Of course you deserve a commission. There’s nothing at all wrong with seeking that. It’s done all the time, by all kinds of honorable men! It shows courage and ambition.”
“No, it doesn’t, Leona,” he retorted. “How can I explain it to you? I can’t even believe that we’re arguing about this.”
“I can’t either,” Leona said, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. “Morgan, it’s really very simple. If you insist on joining the army as a private and your highest aspiration is to be a scrounger, I really have nothing more to say to you.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “You mean, we’ve been together all this time, and suddenly you’re telling me that I’m not good enough for you?”
“That’s what she’s telling you,” Benjamin Bledsoe interjected. “I’ve had my doubts about you for a while now, Morgan, and I was right to have them.”
Morgan never took his eyes off Leona.
She met his gaze defiantly. “I’m sorry, Morgan, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore. You’re just not the man that I thought you were.”
He stood slowly. “If you think I’m the kind of man to smugly ask for political favors of a man that I respect more than any man I’ve ever known, then I’m happy to tell you that you’re right. I’m definitely not that man.” He left the Bledsoe home without another word.
He mounted Vulcan and rode south toward Richmond. After about a mile, his anger faded and was replaced with depression. I’ve lost Leona, and now, of all times! When I’m going to war! He felt sorry for himself for a while, but then he reflected, It’s not that I just lost Leona. I don’t think I ever really had her. I don’t even think I ever really knew her even. This comforted him somewhat.
But lingering in his mind all the way to Richmond was the wish that he could talk to Jolie. She would comfort him; she always did. But now it was too late. He had an appointment to keep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Morgan went into Richmond, signed up, and requested the quartermaster division. When he told the recruiting officer of his background, the man had immediately assigned him to it. He’d been given a desk in crowded headquarters and told to find horses, horses, and more horses.
Three days later, he got word from his amazed lieutenant that he was to report to General Lee’s office. Morgan had to wait for three hours in an anteroom that was like an anthill, but finally a young corporal called him into Lee’s office.
Lee stood up and came around his desk to shake Morgan’s hand. “Private Tremayne, it’s good to see you. Please sit down.”
Morgan sat on a plain straight chair in front of Lee’s desk, which had many papers on it, but they were all arranged neatly.
Lee sat down and said, his dark eyes alight, “I had to hear from my wife that you had enlisted. Then I had a time chasing you down. I was a little surprised to hear you were crammed into a corner somewhere shuffling papers.”
“Important papers, sir,” Morgan said. “You see, I know where to find horses that no other man can find. In this army, that’s real job security.”
“Yes, sir, it surely is,” he agreed. He regarded Morgan steadily for long moments. “As I said, I was a little surprised to hear that you had enlisted, Private Tremayne. I’ve certainly had many other men, to whom I owed a much lesser debt of gratitude, come to consult with me when they joined the army.”
“You don’t owe me any kind of debt at all, sir. It was a pleasure for me to help Mrs. Lee. I enjoy her company very much.”
“Yes, so do I,” he said drily. “I understand that you specifically requested the quartermaster division. You feel that is where you can best serve?”
“Sir, I would really rather be taking care of horses, as I obviously love to do. But under the circumstances, I thought I would be most useful in procurement and forage.”
Lee nodded. “That’s thoughtful of you, Private Tremayne. Many men never seem to be able to understand exactly where they fit in. However, I would like to make a request of you.”
Surprised, Morgan said, “Anything, sir.”
“I would like for you to consider volunteering as my aide-de-camp. I can think of no other man better suited to take care of my horses and those of my staff. Also, I know that you know this country, and you’re probably a very good scrounger. That may not be an oft-used title, but it’s certainly an important one.”
“Sir, I think I’d be an expert scrounger. It’s an honor to serve you, General Lee, and I accept your offer, with thanks,” Morgan said happily.
“Good. Now, I suppose you’d better have a rank. The gene
ral commanding’s staff usually does,” Lee said reluctantly.
“Oh no, sir, no. I can’t possibly accept that,” Morgan said and saw the relief flood Lee’s face. “I don’t want to pretend to be an officer. I don’t have the training or the knowledge. And it seems to me, sir, that the general commanding can have anyone on his staff that he likes.”
Lee gave him his wintry smile. “Come to think of it, you’re correct, Private Tremayne. Very well. Please report to my chief of staff, and he’ll outline your responsibilities.”
“Thank you, General Lee, for your faith in me,” Morgan said simply and then took his leave.
Watching the battle unfold, Morgan had been amazed at the daring of General Robert E. Lee. He had known the man as a person of infinite tact and patience and of great calmness and serenity of purpose. But Morgan hadn’t realized that Robert E. Lee was daring, too.
Early in August, Lee had sent Stonewall Jackson on a mission that had defeated part of Pope’s army. Pope had lost that skirmish but had assumed that Lee would remain near Richmond. After all, Pope had forty-five thousand men against Jackson’s twenty-four thousand.
By shifting their troops around, Lee and Jackson had an army that outnumbered Pope five to four. Unfortunately, a copy of Lee’s attack orders was carelessly lost by one of Lee’s officers.
When General Pope saw the order that was brought to him, he exclaimed, “With this paper, if I can’t beat Bobby Lee, I’ll retire.”
In two days, Lee realized that Pope would have seventy thousand men, and shortly after that, when he was joined by other Union forces, he would have over a hundred thousand. In the face of this emergency, Morgan was shocked, as was the entire army, when Lee divided his army into two forces. He sent Jackson on a large march completely around the Union right flank, and on August 26th, Jackson struck with all his force. The Union troops had no idea that Jackson was near, and they were fragmented.
By August 30th, Pope had made every wrong move that a general could make. Well-placed, massed Confederate artillery broke the Union assault. When Longstreet hit the Union forces, the battle was lost completely, and Union forces retreated into the defenses of Washington yet again.
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