She kept on singing, every line, every chorus, and her voice grew louder and carried farther as the soldiers grew quiet, frowning, as they turned to stare at her.
Travis wanted to strangle her. Here he was, a respected cavalry officer in General Sherman’s army riding with a woman behind him singing the anthem of the Confederacy! But he knew better than to try to make her stop. It was much better to just let her go on and finish, despite the scowls that were being cast in his direction.
Just as her voice rose to sing out the last few words, he heard thundering hooves and looked up to see the great general himself riding toward him, his greatcoat flapping in the wind. His approach did not silence Kitty. She kept right on till she finished her song, even adding an extra chorus after Travis reined to a halt to salute the glowering General Sherman.
“What is the meaning of this, Captain?” the general’s voice boomed. “What are you doing with a woman riding behind you—a woman who dares to sing the infernal song of the Rebels?”
“Our song is not sacrilegious,” Kitty snapped as Travis fought the impulse to cringe. “We do not march into battle singing of God while we murder and rape and plunder. Everyone knows how you have let your men run amuck through the Southland, burning, robbing, killing. And you sing of God?”
For an instant, Travis feared she would spit in contempt, but she didn’t.
“If I am so terrible, why don’t I have you killed this very moment?” General Sherman was asking. His lips were curved in a sardonic smile, but his eyes looked menacing.
“Why don’t you?” Kitty cried. “You allow other evils.”
“Kitty, for God’s sake.” Travis twisted in the saddle, glaring at her, trying to decide whether to slap her to silence.
“Well?” Kitty’s nostrils flared, her violet eyes sparkling with purple and red fires. “Aren’t you the famous general who declared that a crow would starve to death flying over your trail? That war is hell? That you meant to punish the South? Go ahead and punish me. If it will make you feel like more of a man, go ahead and kill me! You will have to kill me to silence me, because I’ll go to my grave singing ‘Dixie’.”
General Sherman looked at Travis, his voice a harsh whisper as he asked, his body trembling with rage, “Captain Coltrane, who is this woman? I believe I have seen you with her before. Who is she, and how is it that she happens to be in your company?”
“Sir,” Travis took a deep breath and wiped a hand across his brow, “this is Miss Katherine Wright, the daughter of John Wright…”
General Sherman’s expression changed immediately. “I see.” He cleared his throat, then asked, “What is she doing with you?”
“Well, sir, John Wright was killed at Bentonville.”
The general blinked, shocked, his grief evident. “Oh, no.” The words came out in a whisper. “I didn’t know. I had not heard.” Then, his bitterness put aside, General Sherman looked at Kitty. “I am sorry, Miss Wright. I had the utmost respect and admiration for your father. He was a man of deep moral and religious convictions, a brave and courageous soldier…”
“A pity you aren’t more like him,” Kitty snapped, and Travis cringed.
General Sherman jerked his head back as if she had slapped him. “I could say the same for you, young lady. I know that John Wright was from the South, but his convictions were with the North. A pity you did not share those convictions. But I am not at all surprised that John Wright would have such a high-spirited daughter.”
He turned his gaze upon Travis once more. “You still have not explained to me why this woman rides with you, Captain Coltrane.”
As briefly as possible, Travis told General Sherman about Kitty’s work with General Johnston’s field hospital at Bentonville, and her kidnap by a deserting Confederate officer. Then he told of the officer killing John Wright and of his own intervention and subsequent killing of Nathan Collins. “Collins is from around here,” Travis went on. “So is Miss Wright. Their neighbors felt very bitter toward John Wright. They burned his farm. Kitty had been working in the Goldsboro Way Hospital, and I thought it best that I escort her back there. I feel sure there were Rebel soldiers about, deserters who saw what happened and will spread the story, and when it gets out that Kitty Wright had anything at all to do with the death of Nathan Collins, the townspeople are going to turn on her. She is safer with me.”
“Safer with you?” General Sherman raised an eyebrow. “And just what do you propose to do with her, Captain? Do you think they will feel any kinder when they see her in the company of a Union officer? And how do you think they will react when we march on, as we shall do quite soon?”
“I plan to take her with me.” Travis met the steady gaze of his general, his voice firm. “I plan to marry her.”
There was a murmur of angry voices about them, which Travis silenced with a flashing glare. He looked back at General Sherman, waiting for his reaction. But just then Kitty cried out indignantly.
“You all just wait a minute! You talk of me as if I were not even present. I’ve told you, Travis Coltrane, I’m staying here and tending my father’s land. What business is it of yours, General Sherman, what I do? Now you either go ahead and kill me, since that is your way with women and children, or ride on and leave me be. I have no intention of traveling with your captain any longer than necessary. And it was his idea to escort me into town, not mine. I can assure you I fear the townspeople no more than I fear your soldiers.”
Travis waited for the worst. But General Sherman did something that was seldom witnessed by his men. He laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed at the fiery young woman. “By damn, I think you mean that, Miss Wright. Only John Wright could have sired such a daughter. Ride on with my captain, and do what you will when you reach Goldsboro. I pity Coltrane if he is so foolish as to wed you.”
They crossed a covered bridge over the Neuse River, heading into Goldsboro by way of Waynesboro. The men jerked upright in their saddles at the sound of artillery fire, but the word quickly spread through the lines that there was no cause for alarm. General Schofield had ordered a battery of artillery placed on the brow of a hill and was firing salutes to General Sherman as he marched in.
The townspeople, hearing the gunfire, were gathering to watch the soldiers come in. They stood silently, blank expressions on their faces, which Kitty took to mean defeat and absence of spirit.
“Where are we going now?” Kitty asked of Travis, not liking her present situation. She knew she was the object of stares and exclamations. They probably took her to be a trollop picked up along the way, a woman of pleasure for all the men.
Travis asked her where she wished to go.
“I told you, Travis. I want to return to the hospital for now. Dr. Holt will need all the help he can get.”
He was silent for a moment, then said in a sardonic tone, “You realize, my sweet, that there will be plenty of Union soldiers there now, wounded and needing treatment.”
“Oh, Travis, be fair with me, please,” she cried indignantly. “Did I ever show any partiality to the Union soldiers when I worked in your field hospitals? You, of all people, should know I did everything I could to help the wounded, and it never mattered to me on which side a man fought.”
“All right, all right. I’m sorry,” he acquiesced. “I know that you performed great services to my side.”
“Take me to the hospital, Travis, please. I know I am needed there.”
“As you wish,” he sighed, weary of arguing.
Reining his horse out of the parade line, Travis moved in the direction of the Goldsboro Way Hospital. Suddenly a shrill cry pierced the air. “It’s her! It’s Kitty Wright, the traitorous slut. See her? There, riding with a damned Yankee. He’s probably the one that killed poor Nathan!”
Kitty’s eyes darted to her left to the hysterical face of Nancy Warren, and she gasped at the sight. Nancy was the young woman who had vied with Kitty for Nathan’s affections, making no secret of her desire to marry hi
m. Only bitterness existed between the two women.
“Who in the hell is that woman?” Travis hissed, spurring his horse on as the crowd began to surge forward.
“Nathan’s old sweetheart, or so she thought,” Kitty answered quickly. “Do move on, Travis. Those people are getting angry.”
Nancy was hitching up her long skirt to run alongside them, screaming, “Is that your Yankee lover, Kitty? We’ve heard how poor Nathan died. You slut! How dare you come riding in here this way?” She reached out to grab at Kitty’s leg, but Travis twisted in his saddle to shove her away. The gesture caught her off balance, sending her sprawling into the dirt road.
“That goddamned Yankee shoved her down,” a man yelled. “They ain’t riding in here treating our women like that. Are we going to let him get by with it?”
“Hell, no,” another screamed.
Kitty felt something hit her cheek—a dirt clod—and before she could cry out, another flew through the air, hitting Travis just above his ear, knocking off his hat. Swearing, he spurred his horse, trying to move through the tightening crowd quickly surrounding them. Hands reached out to pull them from the saddle. Kitty was terrified, knowing they would be torn to bits by the mob. Then she saw that Travis had yanked his rifle from his holding strap. He fired straight up into the air. The crowd backed off momentarily, then surged forward again. She saw him lowering the rifle in the direction of a man who was beating upon his leg with a stick.
Loud cracks of gunfire split the air, and the mob began backing away, terrified as soldiers rode straight into them, knocking both men and women to the ground, charging to where Travis and Kitty had been trapped. “What the hell is going on here?” the officer in charge yelled, then looked straight at Travis and said, “Point out the ones who attacked you. General Schofield will not stand for an attack upon our men.”
Kitty’s arms were wrapped tightly around Travis’s waist, her face pressed against his back. Her eyes were locked with those of Nancy Warren, and she shuddered beneath a gaze that was plainly murderous. Then someone was leading Nancy away, but not before she cried, “You’ll pay, Kitty Wright. You’ll pay for what you caused to happen to a courageous soldier like Nathan Collins.”
Kitty could be quiet no longer. Straightening, she yelled, “Nathan killed my father. He shot him in the back.”
“Your father was a goddamned traitor to the South,” a man standing next to her shrieked. “I could have killed him with my bare hands and never felt a moment’s guilt. The vigilantes should of gone on and hung his worthless neck when they had the chance.”
“No…” Kitty’s eyes filled with tears. Didn’t they understand? Didn’t any of these people understand? Her father had loved them, but he had to follow the convictions of his heart. Was there no way she could make them see that? She had to try. “Poppa loved the South, he…”
“Kitty, it’s no use,” Travis yelled. She lapsed into immediate silence as he twisted to look into her eyes, lowering his voice. “Kitty, I told you it was going to be like this. These people hate your father, they hate the Union, and it doesn’t matter that they are defeated. They are going to go on hating until time heals, which may take forever.”
“Captain, what’s all this about?” the officer standing beside them asked. “What caused this riot?”
“Miss Wright is from Goldsboro,” Travis said in a weary tone. “Her father was John Wright…”
“John Wright?” The officer’s eyes widened, his voice echoing his respect. “I’ve heard of the man. He was quite a soldier. I knew he was from the South.”
“From here,” Travis said. “He was murdered, on the last day of battle at Bentonville, shot in the back by a local hero. Miss Wright was that man’s betrothed. I killed him. The story has spread, and that’s why the good citizens were wanting to drag both of us to the ground and kill us.”
“Whew!” He let out his breath. “Well, the best thing for both of you is to get off the streets for a while and let things cool down.”
Travis told him where he was taking Kitty, and the officer nodded and said they should proceed immediately. As they rode away, Kitty said, “Go ahead and say that you told me so.”
“I don’t have to. But maybe now you can understand why I say you have to leave here, Kitty. These people hate you, and right now, with feelings running so high, I don’t think they would blink an eye at hanging you if they got the chance.”
She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. It would not be that way later, she told herself, not after everything calmed down. People were just upset at the moment. After all, the Yankees were riding into their town, and it had to be a very emotional time. After four long, bloody years, the war was coming to a close, and the South was beaten.
No, the time was not right but wounds would heal later. They had to. This was home.
They reached the hospital. Travis dismounted, then gently reached for Kitty, setting her upon the ground. She looked about her, Travis’s arms still holding her. How long since she had left to go to Bentonville? Five days. It seemed like forever. Yet nothing had changed. The dogwood trees that lined the street were struggling to burst into bloom. There was silence. A few people walked along, heads bowed in desolation, footsteps plodded doggedly on.
A scream pierced the air, and both Kitty and Travis turned their gaze to the hospital. “I must go in now,” she whispered against his chest as he pulled her closer. “They need all the help they can get.”
He cupped her chin in his hand, raising her face upward. “Kitty, I’ll be close by should you need me, and I will try to get by and see you. I want you to promise me that you will consider going with me when I leave. You saw how these people feel about you. There is no life, no future for you here. Come with me, and we’ll make a future together. You know you have my whole heart.”
“And you have mine,” her voice cracked. She fought to hold back the tears. She had to find words. “Please understand me, Travis. I would marry you any time you wish, but I cannot leave my father’s land.”
“I ask only that you think about leaving with me.”
“And I ask that you think about staying with me.”
They embraced once more, then Kitty tore herself from his arms and ran up the path to the hospital. She did not look back.
Chapter Four
Dr. W. A. Holt, medical officer for the way hospital in Goldsboro, had just finished amputating the right leg of a Union soldier when someone stopped to tell him that Kitty Wright had returned to the hospital. Wiping bloodied hands on his already stained apron, he moved out to the crowded hallway, maneuvering about the stretchers.
Kitty was already kneeling beside a soldier, trying to comfort him. “Thank God you are back,” Dr. Holt greeted her, and she glanced up, then rose. He took hold of her arm and steered her on down the hallway to a corner where there were no stretchers. Compassion in his eyes, he said in a soft voice, “Kitty, I heard about your father. I know he was fighting for the North, but I also know how much he meant to you. I’m very sorry.”
“What else did you hear, Dr. Holt?”
He looked away momentarily, then quickly said, “I am glad you’re back, Kitty. We really have our hands full now, what with wounded coming in from both sides, and—”
“Dr. Holt,” Kitty interrupted him without apology. “I have to know what you heard about my father’s death. Do you see this mud upon my cheek? There was a near riot when I rode into town, thanks to Nancy Warren’s inciting a mob, screaming about Nathan being killed by my ‘Yankee lover’.”
He sighed. “I suppose you do have the right to know what has already spread like wildfire. I don’t have to tell you that Major Collins was revered by the people around here. The word came back from two Confederate soldiers who slipped into town rather than retreat with Johnston, and who had witnessed the whole incident from behind scrub brush. They said that Major Collins killed your father in self-defense in an argument over you, and then a Yankee came along and murdered Collins in cold
blood. They gathered that you condoned the killing, that you knew the Yankee soldier well, that the two of you were apparently—”
“Lovers,” she finished. “The truth is, Dr. Holt, that Nathan Collins was deserting. My father happened along, and to divert an argument between him and Nathan, I lied to my father and said I wanted to go with Nathan. I could tell by the anguish in that one eye those bastards had left him that he believed me when I said I wanted to go with Nathan. He turned his back to walk away, and that’s when Nathan shot him…in the back. Travis Coltrane came along, and his temper got the best of him. He stomped Nathan to death. That is how it happened.”
She brushed at tears with the back of her hand, and Dr. Holt patted her gently. “I believe you, Kitty, but you must understand that the townspeople will believe the other story because it is what they want to believe. I am afraid you have much grief ahead, for they won’t forget soon.”
She jutted her chin up, angry and defiant. “You said you needed help, and that’s why I’m here. I don’t intend to let lies make me turn tail and run.”
“Good girl,” he said with a smile, clapping her on the back like a comrade. “Now, here is the situation. General Schofield just marched right into town with no opposition at all. Every available soldier in eastern Carolina was ordered to Bentonville. In no time at all, the Yankees covered the entire town with a circle of breast-works, and they camped inside because Schofield knew General Johnston was close by. Well, things calmed down a bit. Schofield moved into the Borden house and made it his headquarters. Then we heard about Bentonville and Johnston retreating, and how Sherman was heading this way. Folks panicked.”
“Justifiably so,” Kitty said bitterly. “General Sherman allows his men to do as they please, burning and stealing.”
“There is quite a contrast between the two armies. General Schofield has his men under complete military control and allows no disobedience. He knew folks would get upset when they heard Sherman was marching into town with his army of cutthroats, so he issued an order that anyone who wanted a guard to protect their homes could have one by applying to the provost marshal’s office, which they set up in Dr. John Davis’s home. Provost marshal’s name is Glavis, I think. He came by here yesterday to see if we needed anything. I tell you, girl, we can thank our heavenly Father that Schofield got here first. That saved our town from being plundered and burned by Sherman.”
The Raging Hearts: The Coltrane Saga, Book 2 Page 4