Love Stays True

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Love Stays True Page 10

by Martha Rogers


  Tables filled with food stood under the shade trees, and Manfred sauntered in that direction. Boys and girls played chase and friends hailed one another. The reverend called for everyone’s attention and offered a prayer of thanksgiving for the safe return of the soldiers yesterday. Then the pastor asked special blessings for the families of those who hadn’t as yet come home.

  After the hearty amen both young and old filled plates and mingled in circles of family and friends. Manfred loaded his with ham, beans, potatoes, and all the trimmings supplied by the wonderful ladies of the church. With plate in hand he sought out Mr. Grayson and Luke, who sat on the steps of the church.

  “Mr. Grayson, Luke. This is a great day for you and your family. I thank you for all you’ve done for Edwin and me, but I hope you understand that we must be on our way.”

  Mr. Grayson nodded. “Of course I do. Your ma is expecting you just like we waited for Luke. It must have been difficult for you to delay your trip to help us today with the planting, but we do appreciate it. Because of your help we are well along the way.”

  Luke reached out to Manfred. “When I asked you to stop over with my family, I had no idea you’d go this far to help them. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  Manfred shook the offered hand. “No need to. You’d do the same for me or Edwin.”

  Mr. Grayson set his plate on the step and wiped his hand with a napkin. He peered up at Manfred. “How far you planning to go next?”

  “If we start out early, we can camp out tomorrow night then get to the next town by Wednesday afternoon. If we can get shelter there, we’ll spend the night and head straight down south toward North Carolina and then on to Tennessee.”

  Luke expelled a deep breath. “That’s a hard journey. We’ll make sure Ma gives you a good supply of food.”

  “Thanks. Your ma’s food will take us a long way. Right now I’d like to go over and speak with her. Looks like there’s a lull in the food serving. Might get me a piece of that chocolate cake too.” He had spied the huge cake Mrs. Grayson had baked. It stood front and center on the dessert table, and he longed for a taste of something so special.

  Mr. Grayson laughed. “Don’t forget the apple pie. Rachel makes the best around these parts.”

  “I’ll be sure to get a slice.” Manfred offered a mock salute and turned toward the food tables.

  After surveying all the desserts spread out, Manfred chose the cake and a piece of Rachel’s pie. With his loaded plate, he strolled over to where Mrs. Grayson and Rachel sat eating fried chicken. The large elm and oak trees, now sprouting new leaves for spring, provided some shade as relief from the evening sun. “Mrs. Grayson, Rachel. The food is wonderful. All the ladies outdid themselves.”

  Mrs. Grayson tucked a stray strand of hair under her bonnet. “This is what we love to do. Anytime we can celebrate, we have dinner on the grounds.”

  Rachel nodded in agreement. “I’m happy for Luke to be home and for all the other families too.” She brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “Matt being here would have made it perfect, but I know God has a plan for all of this.”

  Edwin joined the trio. “You all sure know how to put on a feed.” He patted his stomach. “At this rate I’ll quickly put back all the weight I lost the past few months.”

  The women laughed and shook their heads. Manfred wanted to hug his brother for providing the exact light touch they needed to cheer up Rachel. Her laughter sounded like music to his ears.

  He finished off the dessert and set his plate on a nearby table. He could use some extra pounds himself, but they wouldn’t have many meals like this along their way the next few weeks.

  “I just told Mr. Grayson we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast. It’s time for us to get back on the road. The weather looks good today. Maybe it’ll hold out for us.” With good weather they could make better time. With the weather this time of year so unpredictable, judging how far they might travel each day became more difficult.

  Mrs. Grayson stood and wrapped her arms around Manfred’s waist. “We’ll be sorry to see you go, but I know your momma is waiting for you just like I waited for Luke.”

  “Yes’m, I imagine she will be.” He stepped back and held the plump woman’s hands. “Is there any way to get a letter out from here?”

  The elderly lady furrowed her brow. “I think your best opportunity will be in the next town. We don’t have a place to post mail regularly here.”

  “If you have paper, I could write the letters tonight and—” Manfred stopped in mid-sentence as a rider on horseback galloped into the yard then reined to a halt.

  A crowd quickly gathered around the young man wearing the familiar Confederate gray pants and cap. His somber countenance brought a pall of silence over the group.

  The soldier’s gaze swept over the group of farmers and their families. He announced, “President Lincoln is dead.”

  Manfred gasped in shock, as did many around him. Someone asked how it happened.

  The boy shook his head. “Shot Friday night at Ford’s Theater in Washington. He died early Saturday morning. Don’t know any other details.”

  Mrs. Grayson peered up at the soldier. “Wouldn’t you like a glass of lemonade or a piece of fried chicken? You look worn out.”

  The rider removed his cap and ran a sleeve across his sweating brow. “Don’t have time to stop and eat, but a glass of lemonade would sure help in this heat.”

  Mrs. Grayson scurried over to the tables to fetch a glass of refreshment.

  Mr. Grayson asked, “Where are you headed from here?”

  “Gotta get the message to the camp about fifteen miles south. I wouldn’t have stopped here except I saw the crowd gathered and figured I should tell y’all.”

  Mrs. Grayson returned with the cold drink and handed it to the young man. He drank quickly, wiped his mouth, and returned the glass. “Thank you, ma’am. Now I must be gone.” He gazed around the crowd for a moment then stopped at two young soldiers. “I take it a few of you just returned home. Good luck to ya. I hope to be heading home soon too.” The young man donned his cap and galloped off on his mission.

  Manfred had a difficult time wrapping his mind around the fact that the president had been killed. How could anyone be so angry at the man? True, many didn’t like Lincoln’s views, but they had to admire his courage and resolve.

  All around Manfred heard conflicting opinions about Lincoln’s death. Some seemed not to care, others openly wept, and several bemoaned the surrender of Lee. Not sure of his own emotions, Manfred considered the man who had declared the emancipation of the slaves. No matter his beliefs, Lincoln had been the president of the United States, an office worthy of respect.

  The crowd dispersed, and Manfred listened to their words and remembered all the devastation, fighting, and turmoil of the past several years. He spotted Luke and Mark in deep conversation with their father and strolled toward them. He felt a tug on his arm and turned to find Rachel clinging to his shirtsleeve.

  “Manfred, I want to thank you for being here these past few days. Your helping Pa Grayson means a great deal to all of us.” She slipped a folded piece of paper into his hand.

  “I might not have time to give you this tomorrow. It’s a note to your Sallie from me. I want her to know how wonderfully kind you’ve been and how lucky she is to have you.”

  Manfred fingered the folded square. “Thank you, Rachel. It’s women like you and Ma Grayson who are going to help us rebuild. Your strength and courage are admirable.” He hesitated a moment then took her hand into his. “I know this may sound trite, but something tells me everything is going to be all right.”

  Neither spoke, and Rachel slipped her hand from his. She smiled and turned to hurry back and retrieve young Matt from his uncle John.

  Later that evening Mr. Grayson and Luke asked Manfred and Edwin to sit with them on the porch. He tamped his pipe with his thumb and furrowed his brow. “Luke and I been talking about what we could do to h
elp you two boys. Those two horses you boys rode while here are now yours to keep.”

  Edwin’s mouth gaped open, and Manfred gasped. “Mr. Grayson, we can’t—”

  Mr. Grayson put his hand out to silence Manfred. “Don’t say a word. Those horses are part of a group old Mr. Whitney gave me before he and his missus picked up and left their farm to go live with their daughter. I plan to sell the lot, but not before I give you two of them.”

  Luke handed Manfred a sheet of paper. “This here’s a bill of sale. Makes you the rightful owner of the horses. Pa and I both signed it and dated it. Pa says you’ll most likely need it because so many farms are being raided for their horses.”

  Manfred grasped the paper with a trembling hand. “I . . . I don’t know what to say. I . . . we never expected this.” He had hoped to work and buy horses later, but this was beyond his dreams. Riding would make their journey easier and faster.

  Mr. Grayson lit his pipe and took a few puffs. The smoke curled upward as the old man rocked in his chair. “I thought so too. Well, you two better get a good night’s sleep. I’m sure you want to get an early start.”

  Manfred shook the man’s hand. “Thank you. Another night in a soft bed will make the hard ground easier to bear later.” He turned to his brother. “Edwin, we’ll be leaving early, so we’d best be getting on up to bed.”

  “Since we have horses now, the journey will be faster.” Edwin shook Mr. Grayson’s hand. “And for that we’re very grateful.”

  God had blessed his decision to go out of his way to tell the Grayson family about Luke. Besides, helping others along their way home would be one way they could help build back what they’d destroyed in the battles they’d fought.

  Up in their bedroom Manfred removed his shirt and pants. His clean uniform stood ready for the morning trip. He sat on the bed and picked up his Bible. One last night in this home, and he had much for which to be thankful. Luke had even bunked in with his brothers so Manfred and Edwin could remain in his room. Overcome with the kindness shown by the Graysons, he bowed his head.

  “Lord, You’ve been good to us these past days, and my heart is grateful for all we’ve been given. Thank You for Your provision. You promised to go with us and to never forsake us, and I pray we will feel and know Your presence fully in the days ahead. Watch over and protect us as well as the hundreds of other young men making their way home.”

  He slid between the sheets and blew out the lamp on the side table. Soon Edwin’s gentle snore sounded from the bed next to him. The days ahead were filled with uncertainty, but with God as their guide they’d be home by June.

  CHAPTER 11

  * * *

  St. Francisville, Louisiana, Tuesday, April 18, 1865

  SALLIE SCRIBBLED THE last name on her guest list then scanned it in case she had forgotten anyone. Mama wanted to get the invitations out early next week. She waved the sheet of paper to dry the ink and spoke to Hannah.

  “Well, this is done. I added Jeremiah to the list. He’ll make a nice escort for you.”

  Hannah shoved her doll’s arms into a dress. “I don’t need an escort. I might not even go.”

  Sallie raised her eyebrows. “Hannah Grace Dyer! Of course you’ll be at my birthday party. You are too important to me not to be there. Besides, Mama ordered a new dress for you from Mrs. Tenney for the occasion.”

  Hannah’s bottom lip jutted out. “I don’t wanna get dressed up and have to act all ladylike for that long.”

  “Oh, Hannah, why don’t you want to wear a new dress? It’ll be fun.” Sallie rose and moved to sit on the floor beside her sister. Hannah had lately become more self-conscious about her awkward boot. Sallie wrapped an arm about Hannah’s shoulders. “You are so pretty with your golden red curls and blue eyes. Someday you’ll enjoy getting all dressed up for parties, but for now, will you do it just for me? As a special gift?”

  Hannah slid her gaze up to Sallie. A hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I suppose I could, but do I have to sit with Jeremiah Simpson all evening?”

  Sallie hugged Hannah and laughed. “Not if you don’t want to. I only want you there to help all of us celebrate.”

  Their mother’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Sallie, Hannah. Come, we must go to Mrs. Tenney’s for your dress fittings.”

  “We’re coming, Mama. I have to get my crinolines.” She grabbed the hoops from the bed and slipped them up under the full skirt of the dress she wore. Lettie appeared and took over making sure the ties were secure.

  “Thank you so much. I’m thankful I don’t need a corset to try on the dress. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever wear one again. Let Peggy worry about having a tiny waist. I’d rather be able to breathe and enjoy my party.”

  Lettie laughed. “With the way you’ve been eating, your waist is small enough without the corset. You’ll be the envy of all the other young women there.” She stepped back. “You’re going to look beautiful in your new dress.”

  “If you help me with my hair that night, I might look presentable.” Sallie spoke in jest, but she remembered her grandmother’s admonition that true beauty came from one’s behavior and what was in her heart, not from how her face looked. Inner beauty, that’s what she wanted.

  She extended her hand to Hannah then pulled the child to her feet. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to see what Mrs. Tenney has done on our dresses.”

  Hannah sighed but followed her sister. Sallie smiled at the child’s reluctance to go for her fitting. Once Hannah saw the dress Mama had ordered for her, she couldn’t help but be excited.

  Downstairs, Papa and Mama waited in the entry hall. Papa had decided to stay home one more day before going back to repairs on their home. Sallie bounced down the stairs holding her hoops to keep from tripping. Papa laughed, but Mama frowned.

  “Sarah Louise Dyer, it’s time for you to come down the stairs like a young lady should. At your age bounding down a stairway is unacceptable.” Mama always used full names when she was scolding. She handed a bonnet to Sallie and one to Hannah.

  Sallie slipped hers over her curls and pushed them under the bonnet with her fingers. Someday she’d come down those stairs as a bride. That would be soon enough to walk like a lady.

  When they stepped out onto the porch, a horse and rider pulled to a stop. He grabbed the reins to settle the prancing stallion then dismounted and hurried up the path to the group on the porch. His gaze went straight to Papa.

  “The war’s over,” the young soldier proclaimed. His words hung heavy in the air. “Lee surrendered. We lost. It’s all over.”

  Sallie’s legs buckled, and she grabbed for Mama’s arm. Papa’s voice thundered in the air. “What happened? How do you know?”

  “A courier came to our camp and told us to spread the word. Lee surrendered to Grant and signed a treaty. We’ve been riding for two days to let our troops know.”

  Sallie’s heart pounded in her chest. She closed her eyes, and her hand flew to her mouth. The war was over. Oh, glory. Manfred would be coming home.

  Thomas wrapped his arm around Amanda’s shoulder. She shivered as her husband’s eyes grew dark and he spoke to the young man. “When did this happen?”

  “On Sunday, April 9. At Appomattox in Virginia. Lee surrendered to Grant. Our troops are being disbanded and sent home.”

  The door banged open behind her, and the boys raced outside and slid to a stop at the top step. Lettie followed them, and Sallie grabbed her around the waist. “Oh, Lettie, the war is over! Our men are coming home.”

  Questions rose in Amanda’s heart, but she kept silent and let her husband do the talking.

  Thomas shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for stopping here to let us know. We get so little war news down here.”

  “Now I must be on my way.” The young man swung his body up onto the saddle.

  Thomas grasped the horse’s bridle. “Then let us pray with you before you go on.” The young soldier nodded, and Thomas prayed. “Father, we thank Y
ou for Your bountiful blessings. We ask You to be with the families of those men who gave their lives for the cause of the South. Protect the husbands and sons of our family and friends, and bring them safely home to us. Grant safety to this young lad as he bears the news to others about the end of this war. May peace now reign in our land. Amen.”

  The soldier saluted then galloped off down the road in a cloud of dust. Amanda’s heart filled with gratitude for an end to the fighting. Now young men would return to their homes, and families would once more be complete. Then sadness mingled in with the joy to darken the news. So many would never return, their bodies lost out on a battlefield somewhere and buried in a mass grave. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat, remembering the one left in the house at Woodville. His poor mama. Her son would never come home.

  Once again dust stirred in the road, and Grandpa Woodruff appeared. He pulled up and jumped from his horse. “I saw a young soldier riding away. Did he tell you the news?”

  Thomas nodded. “He did. I can’t believe the war is actually over. And that the news traveled so fast to us down here.”

  “We heard it in town, and I was on my way to tell you. I imagine those in charge wanted all fighting to stop as soon as possible. I, for one, am thankful the madness has come to an end.”

  Young Will scowled. “Just a few months more, and I’d have been able to get into the fight.”

  Amanda gasped. “William Jackson Dyer, you’d do no such thing!”

  Thomas reached for her hand. “Now, Amanda, don’t be upset. The war’s over, so Will isn’t going any place except to Woodville with me tomorrow.” His stern look at Will restrained the boy. The firm set of Will’s jaw indicated his desire to say more, but good manners and obedience kept him quiet.

  Grandmother Woodruff’s voice trembled as she grasped Grandpa’s arm. “Exactly what is this going to mean to all of us here in the South?”

  Grandpa Woodruff wrapped his arm about her shoulder. “Well, Mary Catherine, that depends on what President Lincoln decides to do with the Confederate states. I pray we will again unite as one nation.”

 

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