by Karen Cogan
Jed glanced up. His insolent eyes raked Nate. “Why it’s Lieutenant Sikes with his henchmen.” His voice, slightly thick from whisky, held sarcasm.
He gestured to the two men beside him. “These are my deputies, sir. What brings us the pleasure of your company?”
“You’re under arrest. Stand up and raise your arms.”
Jed’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “Arrest? Why would you arrest me?”
“For the murder of my men.” Jed’s face paled.
“You’ve no proof of that.”
“I’ve got a witness. Now get to your feet.” He jerked Jed up by the front of his shirt.
His men stirred to assist him.
“Give us half a reason and we’ll shoot you,” Nate warned.
The men froze at the sight of the drawn weapons.
Jed protested to Nate’s search. “I’m not armed.”
“You have been. And recently.” To his disappointment, Jed carried no weapon. He nudged Jed forward. “You’re going to jail.”
Every eye in the saloon watched them march toward the door. They stepped from a silence so deep that Nate imagined everyone was holding their breath, into the bustle of the street.
There, they drew more stares, though neither concern nor curiosity could stretch deep enough to allow the townsmen to speak to the Yankee soldiers. At the door to the jail, Jed flung a warning over his shoulder.
“You’ll never keep me here. The town will never stand for it.”
Nate nudged him through the doorway. “They will when they know what you’ve done.”
Even after Jed was booked into the jail, Nate found his taut muscles could not relax. The anger he felt when arresting Jed had nearly overwhelmed him, convincing him that, if he had drawn his weapon, he would have been tempted to use it.
He glanced at his paperwork. He had become responsible for its completion after the death of the two other officers. Additional men were to be sent from Charleston, but hadn’t arrived yet. Until then, he would have to put aside his growing impatience with his job as he awaited his discharge.
By dinnertime, he’d finished the paperwork. He welcomed the chance to leave the prisoner under guard and head to the hotel for supper. He looked forward to a chance to relax from the afternoon and dream of the future.
The captain caught Nate at the door. He clapped a sturdy hand upon his shoulder. “How about joining me for supper? I’d like us to have a talk.”
Nate disliked the thought of having his evening alone interrupted. He knew what the captain wished to discuss. Though nothing he could say would change Nate’s mind, politeness and lack of other plans dictated he accept the invitation.
They settled at a table at the Sutter House Hotel. Rich velvet tapestry the shade of dark wine hung at the long windows. What was once equally fine carpet, had worn bare with traffic. Yet from the size of the crowd at this early supper hour, Nate felt sure the owners would be able to replace the carpet soon. For some proprietors, the lean war years were giving way to mounting profits.
The captain gave his order to the young man who waited their table. Nate did likewise, and then settled back for the captain’s expected lecture.
“I wanted to try one last time to talk sense into you. You could have a fine career in the military, son. We won’t be stationed here forever. We’ll be assigned back north. You could have a comfortable living instead of getting yourself killed out west.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect for a military career, sir, but going west has been my dream as long as I can remember.”
The captain leaned across the white linen tablecloth. “I have a brother went west. His wife nearly went mad in camp each night having to listen to the coyotes.”
He shook his head. “They’re back in Boston now.”
Nate frowned, hating to hear of failed dreams. He listened as the captain said, “I hear you have a young lady you’re courting. These southern women are not as hardy as our own. How do you expect to take a southern girl west?”
Nate met the captain’s insistent blue eyes. “I believe she would go west more willingly than north, sir.”
The captain blinked. Surprise, then understanding, played across his solid features.
He sighed, admitting, “I suppose you’re right. You can’t go there and you can’t stay here. Still, you have to think of your future. If the girl doesn’t marry you, where will you be then?”
“Farming my own land, where I’ve always wanted to be.”
The captain sighed. “You’re a born leader son. I hate to see potential wasted.”
He spent their meal giving Nate every reason he could think of to stay in the army. And, by the end of the meal, he’d not changed Nate’s mind. As they stood on the hotel porch, he clapped Nate’s shoulder.
“As much as I’d like you to stay, I know you’ll do the right thing. You always do.”
Nate watched the older man walk back to the jail. He bore the dignified stance of a man who deserved respect. Nate gave it gladly. While some commanders permitted atrocities toward the people they conquered, this captain had not.
Nate headed the opposite direction, needing a walk around town to clear his mind. He hoped, with Jed in jail, the evening outing would be safer for both him and the captain.
****
Caroline sat on the porch churning butter when James returned from his walk. One look at his face told her he still struggled with disillusionment. It had been so easy to believe the South was good and always right and the North was bad and wrong. She sighed, wishing for words to comfort him.
She spoke softly. “It’s hard to face imperfections in the people and causes we’ve believed in. There’s good even in our enemies and bad in some of our friends.”
His forehead creased into a familiar frown. “I suppose I’ve been a bad judge of character. Jed proved that. So I suppose I’ve no right to judge your lieutenant. Still, I can’t sanction your marriage to a Yankee. Not when he wants to take you west. The weight of your safety would rest on my conscience. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it.”
His voice choked. His eyes held the passion of his conviction. His assumed authority ruffled her pride. She opened her mouth to assure him she would do as she felt best. Yet the words would not come. It would torture her conscience forever to leave James feeling as he did. Faith assured her that God would find a way. He would clear a path that even James would see as best for her.
She touched his arm. “It’s alright. I won’t insist on running off if you think it’s wrong. Instead, I’ll pray that if it is God’s will, He’ll touch both our hearts to see it.”
His Adam’s apple rose. He swallowed hard and nodded mutely. He smoothed her hair the way Pa had done when he was alive. “I want what’s best for you.”
“I know you do.”
“Andrew and I best get back to work.”
Caroline nodded, then watched him limp away.
****
The next morning, she looked up from the garden to see Nate riding up the path. She smoothed the skirt of her summer calico and brushed aside the stray tendrils of hair that had escaped her bonnet. She tried to remember that it might be business about Jed that brought him and not a trip to see her.
She faced him, forcing a trembling smile. His arm around her waist eased her distress. “Morning, Caroline. I walked around town all last night thinking about you.”
Her heartbeat quickened with delight. Many beaux had made such comments. Yet they had never gladdened her heart the way Nate did. She was amused to hear herself ask what any Southern belle would have said.
“And what did you think about me?”
“That you’re beautiful, and I miss you each time we’re apart.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks. She looked into his sky blue eyes and knew she had no desire to toy with his devotion. “I miss you, too. I hate it when we’re apart.”
For a moment, neither spoke, but the intimacy dissolved as Gran called from the porch. “Is t
hat Nate? Ask him in for tea, dear.”
Caroline pulled off her gloves. “Would you like tea?”
Nate grinned. “Only if I can sit in the parlor with you.”
After Caroline brought in the tea, Nate became serious. “Two officers arrived early this morning to take over for the two that were killed. Along with the captain, they’ll be the jury for Jed’s trial. Captain set a date a week from today.”
Caroline drew a sharp breath. The reality of what Jed had done and what he would face suddenly hit her. She set down her tea cup to prevent her shaking fingers from spilling it. “Will he face a firing squad?”
“If he’s found guilty.”
Her mind jumped back to the time when Jed was a lanky boy coming for visits. “He wasn’t always like this,” she said softly.
Nate placed a square hand atop her own. “I know. Still, he chose the path he took, to live by the sword, so to speak. And to reap his own violence.”
He lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “I want to talk about us. I get my discharge after the trial. I’ll be going west as soon as I can get some supplies in order.”
Caroline felt a vise-like tightening in her throat. “So soon?”
“What else can I do? I have no work here.”
“I just hoped...” The words faded away.
“That we’d find a way to live here? We’ve been through this before. I don’t see how we’d ever be able to live in peace.”
Caroline lowered her eyes. “I wish there was more time.”
“I know. Still, I doubt time will make this decision any easier.” He sounded sympathetic.
Caroline did not reply.
“I’ll need to know in a couple of weeks if I’m buying supplies for one or two.”
Her heart lurched at the hopeful tone in his voice. Unable to answer, she stared at her hands. The seconds ticked by. She sensed his disappointment as he stood and reached for his hat.
“I’d better be going. Thanks for the tea.”
She rose quickly. “Please. Come back as soon as you can.”
“I wonder if that will only make things more painful for us.”
She bit her lip and he turned away. The merriment with which he’d greeted her was gone. The light had left his eyes. She watched him from the porch as he mounted. She longed to rush out and stop him, to beg for more time. But he had already told her she must decide soon. Time hung like an enemy clutched tight to her back as she trudged back to the garden.
She hoed with the unconscious rhythm of a ticking clock, each minute drawing her closer to a decision that would affect the rest of her life.
Fragile Dreams
Fragile Dreams
CHAPTER TWELVE
Caroline slept fitfully, dreaming of Andrew surrounded by a multitude of Yankee soldiers. They shouted questions, closing about her brother until she could no longer see him. Awakened by her pounding heart, she realized she had not been willing to admit how anxious she felt about Andrew’s testimony. He had agreed so bravely that she had felt the need to be brave, too. Yet, how would he feel when he sat alone on a witness stand with Jed facing him?
A rosy streak stained the sky, announcing its mistress, the sun. Fully awake, Caroline swung her feet out of bed, enjoying the feel of the cool, smooth floor. Soon the summer heat would fill the room, making it uncomfortably warm.
She pulled open the great mahogany wardrobe and studied the myriad of dresses. She sighed. So useless now were the ball gowns which hung behind the more practical day dresses. She had attended only one ball during the war. Since then, the gowns had hung untouched while her day dresses grew faded and frayed. As soon as they sold the cotton, she would buy material and make some new clothes.
She bit her lip, knowing she would not take pleasure in new dresses if Nate weren’t here to see them.
She dressed, and then stole down the stairs. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen, telling her Gran was up.
Gran faced her with a quizzical brow. “You’re up early.”
“I had disturbing dreams.”
“James did, too. He’s been out there on the porch since before I started the coffee.”
Caroline accepted a steaming cup from Gran, more out of habit than a desire to drink anything warm, and while Gran turned to the task of fixing breakfast, Caroline crossed the oak floor to the French doors that led to the back veranda. She could see James through the picture windows, sitting on the porch swing, his own cup of coffee in hand.
He looked up as Caroline stepped outside. “I remember when you were a little girl. We’d get dressed and come out here barefooted first thing in the morning. We’d walk in the dewy grass until Mother caught us and made us put on our shoes.”
Caroline smiled. “I remember. It never seemed to hurt us, though it did get Mother in quite a fuss. Looking back it seems a harmless way to experiment with the forbidden. I wish I could have remembered those times when I’ve lost patience with Andrew.”
“He’s a good boy. Pa would be proud of the way you’ve managed him while I was gone.”
Talk of Pa brought tears to Caroline’s eyes. She wondered what he would think if he knew she was considering leaving. Would he understand how it rent her heart?
James leaned forward, cup still in hand. He scanned the green lawns and magnolias. “I love this place. When I was far away and facing death, I longed for nothing more than to sit on this porch like I am right now. It was a terrible feeling to want it so much and be so far away. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
Caroline’s eyes trailed along the gardens. “I love our home, too. I’ve never been one to long for danger or adventure. Perhaps that’s why I’m being forced to consider it.”
James gave her a quick look, but no reply. They sat a moment in silence before he changed the subject. “I’m going into town for a few supplies to mend the barn. Do you want to come?”
Caroline shook her head. “I’ll wait until we sell the cotton and have money for cloth. We’ll all be needing clothes.”
James cleared his throat. “I’ll stay in town for lunch. I have an invitation.”
Caroline smiled. “Mary?”
Color crept up James’s neck.
She laughed. “You needn’t be so secretive. Mary’s my best friend. I’m pleased you’re courting her.”
From his lack of reply, Caroline knew he felt bad he couldn’t say the same for her choice of a beau.
He finished the last of his coffee. “Smells like Gran has breakfast ready. I’ve already milked the cows. Have Andrew take them to pasture.”
Caroline nodded, thinking of the tiny herd they’d managed to keep from selling. Only five years ago they’d had dozens to provide milk and cheese and meat. She preceded her brother into the house.
He accepted a plate of breakfast from Gran and said, “The cotton’s nearly ready for picking. While I’m in town, I’ll see who I can find to help with the work.”
Caroline chewed her lip, knowing they wouldn’t be able to afford much help, but unwilling to bring up again the suggestion that she help.
Andrew appeared, sleepy-eyed, just after James left for town. She knew she should have been firm and roused him sooner. He would get a late start on his chores. Yet, if he’d felt as unsettled by the last few days as she had, he needed his rest.
“Take the cows to pasture and don’t forget to close the gate,” she cautioned. “I’m going out to look over the cotton.”
She grabbed her bonnet and gloves, and set out across the back lawn, enjoying the freedom from tasks that awaited her inside the house. The dragonflies that buzzed across her path reminded her of lazy days of childhood when she’d been free from worries and had few things to decide for herself.
She trod past the rows of cotton, grateful that the rain had come in season and the bolls were splitting to reveal their fluffy contents. Her spirits lifted as she walked among plants that extended as far as she could see. Picking this much cotton would surely be back-breaking work. J
ames would need her help, whether he wanted it or not. But they would have a good crop. And they could pay their taxes and other debts.
Her conscience convicted her that she’d left Gran with too much of the housework. She had no excuse to be outdoors other than the urge for a walk. She reminded herself that, during picking time, she would soon see all the outdoors she’d like.
On the way back to the house she noticed an open pasture gate. The cows grazed nearby. Her temper flared, as she organized the lecture she’d give Andrew when she got back to the house. His carelessness could have allowed the cows to stray out of the pasture to munch the flowers and vegetables near the house.