Amanda smiled with satisfaction. Yes, everything would work out in perfect order once Manfred came home.
On the way home they passed the Tenney house. “Mama, do you need me to help before supper?” Sallie asked.
“No, we can take care of everything. Why?”
“I want to stop in at Miriam’s and speak with her. I haven’t had a chance to visit with her since we’ve come here, and I also want to see if she’s heard from Stuart. You know he and Manfred enlisted at the same time.” They’d joined up at Camp Moore in the Fourth Louisiana Infantry the summer of 1861. Both had been eighteen, the same age she was now.
“Of course, my dear; have a nice visit.” She kissed Sallie’s cheek then proceeded down the street toward home.
Miriam answered Sallie’s knock on the door, and a smile lit up her eyes. “What a delightful surprise. I was thinking about you just yesterday. Come in. Jeremy wasn’t feeling well, so I stayed home with him.” She hugged Sallie then led her into the parlor.
“We just came from your mother’s shop, and she told me you were here with your brother. She’s making me a new dress to wear to my birthday party next month.”
“Mama is so talented. She’ll sew up a beautiful dress for you. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to visit since your coming here.”
“I am too, but we’ll have to change that. I also want you to be at my party. It’s not going to be anything really fancy, what with the war and all. I think Mama just wants to keep my mind off all of it and Manfred, but that’s difficult to do.”
“I know. I keep thinking about Stuart.” She jumped up. “I have his last letter. Let me get it.”
Sallie’s heart quickened while she waited for Miriam’s return. If Stuart was all right, then that meant Manfred could be too.
The two had been home on furlough once last summer. Manfred had all but declared his love for her then, but with the uncertainty of the times, he didn’t speak with her father. His correspondence in late November arrived just before his unit engaged in another battle, but nothing had come since then. How she longed to see him. Any news Miriam could share from Stuart would help. She twisted a fold of her skirt between her fingers.
Miriam reappeared. “Here’s what I received a few weeks ago just after he returned to his regiment.”
“Does he make any mention of Manfred?” One word, that’s all she needed.
Miriam scanned the letter again. “No, he doesn’t, but then he said that most of their regiment had been lost or captured at Nashville. Stuart is in Mississippi now, but I don’t know exactly where, and he doesn’t say that Manfred is with them.”
Could Manfred have been killed or captured? It couldn’t be. Tears welled, and Sallie fought to control them. Perhaps he hadn’t written because he’d lost interest in her during the war.
Miriam dropped the letter. “I’m so sorry, Sallie. I didn’t even think.” She reached across and wrapped her arms around Sallie. “Stuart would have told me if Manfred or Edwin had been killed. That means they may have been captured and taken north.”
Sallie swallowed hard, but no sound came when she tried to speak. She rested her head against Miriam’s shoulder. Captured and sent to one of those prisons that could possibly kill him, according to stories she’d heard. Then she’d never know if he loved her and wanted to marry her. Hearing words of endearment from him last year was far different from hearing words of true love and commitment now that she had become a more mature young woman.
Miriam patted Sallie’s back. “Manfred’s brothers came home safe from a prison camp in New York. We must believe Manfred and Edwin will too.”
“Yes, but Charles and Henry were in poor health, and, according to Grandma, refused to talk about what they’d endured.” Still, she must hold on to hope. This war had gone on too long. The time had come to end it, but men didn’t see things that way. They’d keep fighting to defend what they believed no matter what the odds. Please, Lord, let this war be over soon.
CHAPTER 7
* * *
Grayson Farm, Virginia
JUST AS MANFRED predicted, when the sun began to dip in the western sky, they topped a hill and spotted a two-story, white clapboard house rising from among a few trees. A barn needing paint stood behind the main house along with a fenced area holding a few horses. Freshly plowed fields stretched beyond the outbuildings.
From the description given him, the house must belong to Luke’s family. As they approached, a man in the shadows of the porch called to someone in the house. A few moments later other family members joined him. The older man ran down the steps and trotted up the hill to meet them.
Manfred called to him. “Are you Mr. Grayson?” At the man’s nod he said, “We bring you news from your son, Luke.” He extended his hand to grasp that of the gray-haired farmer.
Tears glistened in the man’s pale blue eyes. “Is he alive? Is he well? Where did you see him?” Then before Manfred could answer, Mr. Grayson turned to the house and called, “They have news of Luke.”
A woman on the porch gathered up her skirts and hurried to greet them. “What do you know about our son? Is he alive and well?” Her lined face reflected her worry, and her mouth trembled.
Manfred hastened to reassure them. “We were in the same prison at Point Lookout, Maryland. He’s well and will be released soon and should be home shortly. I’m Manfred Whiteman, and this is my brother, Edwin. We’re from Louisiana.” He handed Luke’s letter to Mrs. Grayson.
Mrs. Grayson clasped the letter to her chest and raised her eyes heavenward. “Thank You, Lord. Thank You.”
Manfred waited as she read the paper. Still holding the letter, she threw her arms around her husband’s neck and cried. “He’s coming home. Luke’s coming home.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She handed her husband the letter then backed away and turned to Manfred, using a corner of her apron to pat her eyes.
“Forgive my manners. You boys are worn out. Come on to the house. We were about to sit down to supper.” She locked arms with Manfred and Edwin and led the way.
Two young men waited at the bottom of the porch steps, and Mrs. Grayson called a greeting. “Mark, John, your brother Luke is alive and will be home soon. These young men are Manfred and Edwin Whiteman, and they were in prison with him.”
When they drew near, one of the men reached for Manfred’s hand. “I’m Mark Grayson.” A red slash of a scar on his neck and the cane on which he balanced spoke of his participation in the war.
Before Manfred could comment, the young man said, “I fought at Lynchburg. They sent me home to heal.”
Manfred swallowed a lump in his throat and gripped Mark’s hand. He stared deep into the young man’s eyes, and he needed no words to express the feelings each had for what they had seen and experienced in the past months.
Next to them Edwin and John stood engrossed in conversation, their heads close. As they climbed the stairs to the porch, Mrs. Grayson introduced the others gathered there. An attractive young woman held a small child in her arms. Her brown eyes reflected a sadness Manfred had never seen in one so young.
Mrs. Grayson wrapped her arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “This is Rachel. She was married to our son Matthew.” She blinked away tears. “He didn’t come home from the last battle.”
Another young woman with long brown hair tied back with a ribbon introduced herself as Ruth, the Grayson’s daughter.
Mrs. Grayson herded them all into the house and to the kitchen. Manfred savored the simplicity and comfort of the home while the aroma of home cooking tantalized his nose and caused a low rumble in his belly.
A long table in the dining area held bowls of steaming vegetables and platters of homemade bread. Ruth and Mrs. Grayson bustled about setting two extra places on the table. Mr. Grayson and the others stood behind the chairs. At Mr. Grayson’s nod everyone seated themselves then joined hands for a prayer.
Manfred’s heart pounded at the familiar ritual. He pictured his own family
at home doing the same thing and squeezed Edwin’s hand. Edwin returned the squeeze and glanced sideways at Manfred.
Mr. Grayson’s simple prayer filled Manfred with a sense of peace. The first leg of their journey had drawn to a close in a place of comfort, safety, and welcome.
St. Francisville, Louisiana
Sallie had looked forward to the evening with the Whiteman family, but Miriam’s news dampened her spirits. Her desire to learn even more about Manfred grew stronger, despite the anxiety of her heart.
When the rumble of carriage wheels drew her to the window, her heart leaped with anticipation. She gathered up her dress above her ankles and raced down the stairs. Halfway down she caught her mother’s disapproving look. Sallie stopped abruptly, let her skirts fall to the floor, and ran her hands over her hair to capture any loose strands that may have strayed in her haste. Lettie helped Mrs. Whiteman with her cloak and bonnet but managed a playful wink at Sallie. Grandma hid a smile behind her fan.
Sallie joined her mother and Mrs. Whiteman in the foyer. The murmur of male voices drifted in from the parlor where the men gathered. The women strolled into the sitting room.
“Sallie, please entertain us with one of your new pieces.” Her mother nodded toward the piano then settled herself on the settee.
Mrs. Whiteman sat and adjusted her skirt. “Please do, Sallie. Manfred always comments about your playing.”
Sallie smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Whiteman.” She perched on the bench, arched her fingers over the keys, and struck the opening notes of a Beethoven melody. At the moment, playing didn’t fit her agenda. She wanted to hear about Manfred and when he was a little boy. How he worked on the docks with his father and brother would be much more interesting than Beethoven.
Her fingers flowed easily over the keys as the strains of the music filled the air. At the conclusion of the piece, the clapping of hands behind her gave her a start. She whirled around to find her grandfather, Mr. Whiteman, and Charles Whiteman applauding.
“Bravo. Bravo.” Her grandfather ambled over and kissed her cheek. “You play more beautifully every day, my dear.”
Heat rose in Sallie’s face. She turned away from the admiring glances of Mr. Whiteman and Manfred’s oldest brother, Charles. “Thank you, Grandpa, but after dinner we must ask Hannah to play for us. She is learning so well.”
Hannah’s cheeks turned pink, but the pleased expression on her face warmed Sallie’s heart. Encouraging her younger sister had become one of Sallie’s main goals now that they lived in St. Francisville.
Lettie stepped into the room and announced dinner. The men and ladies joined arms with Grandpa and Grandma, leading the group to the dining room. Charles grasped Sallie’s hand and tucked it under his arm. “I know I’m no substitute for Manfred, but I’m honored to escort you to dinner. Henry didn’t come with us, for he’s not feeling well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I understand he suffered a few injuries.” Rumors had it that Manfred’s next older brother, Henry, had not fared well since coming home from war. His hair had turned snow white, and he had become a recluse, but Sallie didn’t want to ask and appear too nosy. Things that had gone on in this war may well turn a young person into an old one.
Charles only nodded before they seated themselves at the table. After Grandpa said grace, Flora and Lettie served the meal. During the dinner Sallie listened for any word or mention of Manfred, but none came. Her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Whiteman discussed the weather, happenings at the church, and everything else but Manfred.
Charles sat between Sallie and Hannah, and he divided his attention between them. While he and her sister discussed her activities, Sallie picked up a few words from Mama’s conversation with Mrs. Whiteman. Although Mama didn’t discuss the war itself, she did tell Mrs. Whiteman about their home in Woodville and the repairs going on there. Sallie missed the banter her brothers usually brought to the table, but they wouldn’t be home until Saturday and would even miss the Good Friday service at the Methodist church later this evening.
Her mother reached over to grasp Sallie’s arm and squeezed it as though she read Sallie’s thoughts.
“My dear, I was telling Mrs. Whiteman about the fabric we purchased for your birthday dress.”
Her smile encouraged Sallie to take on a more pleasant manner, and she dismissed the memory to pay more attention to Mrs. Whiteman.
Mrs. Whiteman touched the corners of her lips with an ivory damask napkin. “It sounds lovely, my dear. And yellow with green is perfect with your hair and eyes. I’m sure you will be beautiful in it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Whiteman. I do hope Charles and Henry will be able to attend as well as Teddy, I mean, Theo.” She remembered how he hated to be called by his childhood name now that he had fought in the war. Of course, Charles had discovered him at camp and sent the boy home when the officers learned he was only fifteen at the time. Apparently that few weeks had cured him of the desire to go off and fight.
Mrs. Whiteman chuckled. “Ah, yes. Theo. He’s calling on Lucy Simpson this evening for dinner and afterward to attend services with her family. All three will look forward to your celebration. I heard just today from Mrs. Elliot that her son, Benjamin, will be home this week. He’d make a handsome addition to your party.”
Mama nodded. “I must be sure to see an invitation is sent. If I remember, he’s the tall, dark-haired one.”
Sallie searched her memory trying to recall his face, but no one came to mind. On all their previous trips to St. Francisville, she had paid little attention to the young men in town. Only Manfred filled her free time. It didn’t really matter whether she remembered him or not, he’d still be welcome as a guest.
After dinner the group returned to the parlor, where Hannah entertained with her playing. True to Sallie’s word, the young girl played with complete abandon that made the melodies soar and fill the room with the beauty of the music. Yes, Hannah had a tremendous talent and would be an accomplished musician if she continued with her studies.
Then Lettie appeared and announced that Moses had the carriages around front for the short ride to the church.
Mrs. Whiteman invited Sallie to ride in the Whiteman carriage, and she climbed up beside Mrs. Whiteman with delight. “Thank you so much. I haven’t had many chances to visit with you for very long, and I have so many questions to ask about Manfred.” She grasped the older woman’s hand.
Manfred’s mother smiled and patted Sallie’s arm. Her brown eyes shone with warmth and love. “I know you must miss him as much as I do. I’m thankful for the three at home, but I won’t rest easy until my other two are safe back in the fold. Manfred has great plans to be a doctor.”
Although she relished the idea of being a doctor’s wife, Sallie had so many questions about the young man who had come into her life when she had been ten years old and he thirteen. “I haven’t seen him but that one weekend in four years. I don’t really know much about him as a younger boy, only what I saw when we came for summer visits until the war started.”
“Well, with five boys, we always had things happening, but one thing in particular occurred when he was about four years old. His brothers took to calling him Manny, and he didn’t like it. Finally he stomped his foot, crossed his arms over his chest, and announced, ‘My name is Manfred, not Manny. Manny is for babies, and I’m not a baby.’ After that we never called him Manny again. He’s a stubborn one, that middle son of mine. I think Manfred’s the reason Theo abandoned the name of Teddy when he grew older.”
Sallie grinned. She could picture the young Manfred in his determined stance. Perhaps they would have a stubborn little boy one day. Of course, Manfred hadn’t asked to marry her as yet or even truly declared his love, but as soon as the war was over, he’d be home and they could court properly.
Mrs. Whiteman squeezed Sallie’s hand. “I also remember the tenderness with which he cared for his animals. He used to bring home every stray dog, cat, rabbit, goat, or whatever he found. A stubborn w
ill but a tender heart. Just what a doctor needs.”
Sallie had observed Manfred’s tenderness with Hannah and with Lettie when he’d been around them. Remembering only made her wish even more for his presence now. When Mrs. Whiteman related the story of his and Edwin’s chasing a goat around the yard and falling in the mud when they were seven and five years old, Sallie laughed out loud with the picture that scene produced in her mind.
Then Mrs. Whiteman’s eyes clouded, and her expression became somber. “My precious Manfred celebrated his twenty-second birthday somewhere on the battlefield. The next time he comes home, he will be a more mature young man than the young man who signed up with Charles and Henry.”
Sallie said nothing. Her heart ached for the mother who hadn’t heard from her sons. A lot could have happened in four years. Manfred may be a completely different man than he was when she last saw him right before he left to rejoin his regiment.
They arrived at the church, and Mr. Whiteman assisted her and Mrs. Whiteman from the carriage. She joined her mother and Hannah to sit with her family for the services. Even though their own Grace Church still could not be used for services, the solemn atmosphere of this church for remembering Christ’s suffering on the cross filled her heart with gratitude for the sacrifice of His life.
After Communion the minister led the parishioners in prayer then dismissed them. Mama had invited the Whiteman family for a stop on the way home for coffee and dessert Flora had prepared.
As much as Sallie wanted to hear more about Manfred and his childhood, fatigue had set in, but good manners required her to play hostess with her mother and grandmother. When they arrived home, Hannah went up to bed. Sallie remained in the parlor with Mama, Grandma, and Mrs. Whiteman for a wonderful pastry layered with chocolate and cream.
Love Stays True Page 7