by Ginny Dye
Louisa grasped Perry’s hand and tried to take even breaths. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m not letting them destroy the cotton gin!” Perry said fiercely, his burning eyes flying to the sturdily built barn about a hundred feet from the house. Housed inside were all his hopes and dreams.
“What?” Louisa cried. “You heard the man. They’re not hurting anyone or burning houses unless people fight back.” She planted her hands on her hips and tried to force back panic. “Just how you do you plan on defeating a whole band of soldiers? Even with both of us shooting, there’s no way we’ll do anything but make them angry and insure they’ll destroy everything we own.” She didn’t mention she could hardly shoot a target, though Perry had insisted on giving her shooting lessons.
She watched as the truth sank into Perry’s mind and took all his earlier hope with it. “So we’re not safe from the war even here,” he said bitterly.
“There are still things we can do,” Louisa replied evenly, knowing she had to be the voice of reason right now. Perry had lost too much to see beyond more loss right now. “We’ve got to save the horses and the cow; the pigs and chickens, too, if we can.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Perry asked, his eyes dark with defeat.
Louisa gripped his hands. “We have to try,” she said earnestly. “I remember you telling me about the cave you found in the hills a few miles from here.”
Perry stared at her and then nodded his head slowly, his eyes telling her he was trying to latch on to her hope. “That could work. We could all go there and wait for the army to leave. If Sherman is headed for Atlanta, he’s got a lot of ground to cover. He won’t stay in any one area for long.”
Louisa thought quickly. “We’ll load as much food and hay as we can into the wagon. I know you can’t pull it into the cave, but if it’s way back in the woods, perhaps no one will find it.” She saw the protest in Perry’s eyes. “We have to at least try.”
Perry took a deep breath and reached for her hands. “You’re right, Mrs. Appleton. We’ll move fast and be out of here within the hour.”
Louisa shook her head. “Just you,” she said simply. “I’m staying.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Perry growled. “I will not leave you alone here,” he snapped angrily. “Don’t even bother trying to change my mind.”
Louisa understood his fear and anger, but she knew she was right even if the idea of it terrified her. “Think about it, Perry. If the soldiers get here and they find an empty house, they may decide to go ahead and burn it. You heard the messenger; they’re not hurting people or destroying homes if no one resists.” She fought to think clearly. “They’re certainly not going to hurt a pregnant woman who can’t put up a fight.”
“But what if they burn the barn and it catches the house on fire?” Perry asked wildly. “No! I can’t take that chance. You’re coming with me. I can handle losing the house, but I can’t handle losing you.”
“You won’t lose me,” Louisa insisted and then softened her voice as she laid her head on his chest. “Please. Let me do this for our family. Our baby is due in two months. If they burn our home, we’ll have nowhere to go.”
“But if they destroy all our food, we can’t stay here.”
“Which is why you have to take the animals and the wagon full of food to the cave,” Louisa said calmly, certain her plan would work.
“The gin,” Perry said thickly. “What about the future?”
Louisa thought about all their bright hope just minutes before. “Our future is each other,” she said firmly. “You and me. Our baby.” She prayed her words would penetrate his defiance. “Everything else can be replaced as long as we have each other.”
She saw Perry’s eyes accept the truth. “We’ve got to move fast,” she said quickly.
Five hours later Louisa watched from behind her curtains, her heart beating in terror as a cluster of soldiers, their guns drawn, approached the farmhouse. Immediately, she very much regretted sending Perry away. The idea of facing these men on her own was more than she could bear. A swift kick from her unborn baby reinforced her earlier courage.
“Anyone home?” An officer broke free from the group and rode to the porch. “If anyone is in there, you need to come out,” he called authoritatively.
Louisa took a deep breath and stepped out onto the porch. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” she asked calmly. Now that the moment had arrived, she must implement her carefully thought-out plan.
“We are soldiers of the Union army,” the man said crisply. “My name is Lieutenant Hansen.”
“Why hello, Lieutenant,” Louisa said sweetly. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “That it is, ma’am.” His eyes settled on the open door. “Your husband home, ma’am?”
“I’m sorry to say he’s not,” Louisa said, letting tears fill her eyes. “He was killed two months ago when you took Atlanta.” She let her voice drift off sadly. “I’m afraid it’s just me and the baby,” she replied, laying her hand on her belly, knowing from the look on the lieutenant’s face that her blue eyes still had their magical effect on men.
While Louisa and the officer talked, his men had spread out to poke into the surrounding outbuildings. “Hey, Lieutenant! We’ve got a real nice cotton gin over here!”
“Your husband worked in cotton?”
Louisa nodded sadly. “Yes, but now that is over. You boys are welcome to that old gin if you want it. It won’t do me any good now.” She already knew they would destroy it, so it made sense not to fight it.
“Ask the woman where her livestock is!” another soldier yelled.
Louisa answered the question before it came. “I’m afraid things have been rather difficult since my husband’s death, Lieutenant. I’ve had to sell both our horses and the one cow I had left to keep food on the table.”
The lieutenant looked sympathetic but then gazed over at the garden. “Looks like you had a garden this summer. What happened to all the food?” he asked sternly.
Louisa hid her chuckle as she opened her eyes wide and blinked back big tears. “Oh, Lieutenant, I’ve had such a difficult pregnancy since the death of my husband. It seems like the sorrow sucked right into my baby, too. I’ve hardly been out of bed at all since returning from Atlanta.” She shook her head. “My neighbors tried to help, but no one had the time to put up my garden. They bring me food when they can, but I’m having to make do the best I can.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Louisa gazed up at him again, almost wishing Perry was here to see her act. What fun she would have telling him! A sudden vision of what would happen if he was found hiding in the cave caused the fear on her face to become very real. “Winter is on the way, Lieutenant. Selling off our livestock was the only thing I could think to do. Most of the hay went with the animals,” she added, thinking quickly as she saw his men head toward the hay barn.
“Hey, Lieutenant! What if the animals are in the woods?”
Louisa straightened. “Your men are welcome to search the woods,” she said with quiet dignity. “I assure you they will find nothing.”
The lieutenant smiled apologetically but waved for his men to go search behind the house.
Suddenly Louisa gasped and doubled over. “Oh, my,” she cried.
“Ma’am?” The lieutenant’s voice was full of alarm.
Louisa slowly straightened. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant. Seems all the ruckus is making my baby a little anxious.” She tried to smile; only this time it wasn’t acting. Fear filled her heart as she tried to think what she would do if she went into labor right here on the porch. Her face twisted when another spasm stole her breath.
“Sit down, ma’am!” the lieutenant ordered and then turned to his men. “Destroy the cotton gin and take whatever hay and feed are left,” he ordered. “Then torch the barns and outbuildings.”
“There’s a bunch of pumpkins and apples our men wi
ll sure enjoy!” one yelled.
“Take them.”
Louisa didn’t have to fake the tears that rolled down her face as the men sprang to do the officer’s bidding. All she could do was sink down into the rocking chair on the porch and watch as the buildings begin to curl with smoke and flames.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have my orders.”
Louisa gazed at the lieutenant for a long moment. “I do believe you are sorry, sir. I thank you for that. I also thank you for leaving my home standing. At least my baby and I will have a home.”
“We’re under orders not to destroy any homes or harm anyone as long as they don’t resist,” the officer informed her. “Your baby should be glad it has such a smart mother.”
“Smart enough to know one very expecting woman wouldn’t stand much of a chance against twenty men with guns? I’m not sure that’s intelligence, Lieutenant.” Louisa tried to smile through her tears as smoke and flames created a roaring noise. She prayed the wind wouldn’t shift and blow sparks onto the house.
The lieutenant read her mind. “We’ll stay until the fire dies down to make sure your house is safe,” he said gruffly.
“What about food?” one of the men yelled. “We need to find out what she’s got down in her cellar.”
“Not here,” the lieutenant barked. “I hardly think we need to take food from a woman all alone and about to have a baby. The apples and pumpkins are enough.”
The charred buildings disappearing before her eyes tempered Louisa’s gratitude. However, she could be grateful Perry was not here. She was not at all sure he could have held his temper when the buildings were set on fire. She was quite sure how the soldiers would have handled his anger.
Louisa sat quietly until the flames had subsided enough to ensure the house was safe. All the while she struggled to take deep even breaths, grateful the spasms had passed.
When the soldiers had the rest of the hay and feed loaded into their army wagon, the lieutenant turned to her. He exchanged a long look with Louisa. Neither said a word; they simply looked at each other before the officer touched the brim of his hat, turned, and cantered off to catch his men.
The sun had set, but Louisa refused to leave the porch. Her one concession had been to walk inside and pick up a thick quilt along with a pitcher of water. She had done nothing but rock and croon to her baby since the soldiers had left, letting the tears that streamed down her face wash away the bitterness as she stared at the burned-out remnants of their farm. It took every bit of energy to focus on gratitude that their house was standing and the baby was unharmed.
Every sound had her straining forward in her chair as she prayed Perry would come home. She had tried with very little success to block out images of him hurt and wounded in the woods, attacked before he ever reached the safety of the cave. She’d also had very little success blocking out images of what her life would be like without him.
All she could do was rock and croon, her hand involuntarily stroking her stomach with maternal instinct, trying to give as much comfort to the baby as the baby was giving to her. Louisa wrapped the blanket more tightly around her swollen body and tried to breathe evenly. “Perry,” she whispered, for what must have been the hundredth time.
A sudden rustle in the woods had her jerking forward, holding her breath as the baby kicked in protest. Perry materialized next to the porch. “Louisa?” he asked softly.
“They’re gone,” she cried, jumping up and hurrying down the steps to throw herself into her husband’s arms. “They’re gone!” The tears flowed freely again. “You’re safe. Thank God, you’re safe!”
Perry gathered her close and stroked her hair until her breathing became more even and the tears stopped flowing. “It’s okay,” he murmured over and over. “Everything is okay.”
Louisa finally took a deep breath and pulled back in his arms to look up at him. “The livestock? The wagon?”
“Everything is safe,” he assured her. “I left them there so I could come back to check on the farm. I’ll get them tomorrow.” His jaw clenched with fury as he looked past her at the burned-out hulks of their farm buildings.
Louisa gripped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “We still have each other. We still have our home. We can rebuild everything else in time.”
“Our food?” Perry asked.
Louisa’s laugh rang out through the night until she doubled over. She glanced up at Perry’s concerned face and started laughing all over again. “Oh, Perry,” she gasped, “you should have seen me. I do believe I may take up acting.”
She relayed her conversation with the lieutenant until both of them were holding their sides in laughter. “So, yes, Mr. Appleton,” she said demurely, batting her lashes at him, “our food is just fine. The lieutenant didn’t want to take the only food supply from the poor fragile widow with child.”
“The poor man,” Perry finally said, once his laughter had died down. “He didn’t stand a chance against you.”
“That would be correct,” Louisa said primly.
Perry wrapped her tightly in his arms as he stared out over the ruins of their farm and then led her inside and closed the door firmly. “I will start to rebuild tomorrow,” he said firmly. “Right now I’m just grateful we still have the most important things.” He looked at her tenderly. “And you, my love, are the most important thing.”
“Well, that and my apple pie.”
Perry frowned. “I came through the field and saw all the pumpkins are gone. I’m afraid they took the apples, too.”
Louisa smiled. “I had to do something while I waited for the soldiers to get here. Did you really think I would let you go all winter without pie? Everything was ripe enough to pick, though I admit, holding the pumpkins on top of my belly was quite a balancing act. I didn’t get everything, but you’ll have your pies this winter.”
Perry merely stared down at her, tears gleaming in her eyes. “You are a remarkable woman,” he finally murmured, turning to lead her into the house.
Louisa smiled up at him brilliantly and let him take her home.
Chapter Twenty-One
Carrie opened her eyes slowly and gazed over at Georgia’s empty bed. She’d heard nothing since Georgia had rejoined Lee’s troops protecting Petersburg, but she’d also not found Georgia’s name on any of the killed or wounded lists, so she remained hopeful.
The heaviness in her heart this morning was nothing but loneliness. Even after Janie had married and moved into the other wing of the house with Clifford, Carrie had shared her room with Georgia. Having someone there protected her from the dark dreams about Robert and his safety.
Carrie’s constant dreams of Robert wounded or dying since she had been sleeping in her room alone kept her drained and tired. In the bright light of day, she was capable of choosing joy, but she had yet to figure out how to handle the dark terrors of night.
Carrie frowned as she stuck her head above the covers and felt the frigid cold in the room. December’s winter freeze had blown in, and now the parlor was the only room they had enough wood to heat.
“Do you think maybe I could wipe that frown off your face, Mrs. Borden?”
Carrie jerked upward and searched the early morning darkness of the room. “Robert?” she whispered, stunned to see him sitting in the corner. “Robert, is it really you, or am I still dreaming?” she asked, praying he was real as she reached out a hand, tears springing to her eyes.
Robert moved to her side and reached down to enfold her in his arms. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he said tenderly. “I enjoyed watching you sleep.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his face.
“Not long,” he assured her. “May let me in. Your father left early for the Capitol.”
“You’re here,” she murmured, holding his face tightly. “You’re really here.” Suddenly she tensed. “For how long?” she asked, praying this time it could be more than a few hours.
“Lee has given me five days,” he replied, his eyes devouring her. “I report back the morning after Christmas.”
Carrie laughed joyfully and threw back the quilts. “Are you really going to stay out there in this cold room? It’s much better under here, sir.”
Robert took only moments to undress and slip in beside her.
Wanting to imprint him into her mind and heart, Carrie burrowed into his arms and took deep breaths. She kissed him eagerly when his lips reached down to claim her mouth. “I love you,” she whispered. “Oh, how I love you.”
Robert kissed her until she was breathless, and then he lifted himself to gaze into her eyes. “And how I love you,” he said gruffly.
Those were the last words spoken until sunlight streamed into the room.
Trying to ignore the pitching seas and white-capped waves, Matthew scrambled up the ladder to the USS Pawnee. A winter storm off the coast of Georgia had made even reaching the sloop of war a challenge, but his editor was determined he be there to cover the capture of Savannah.
“About time you got here for the party!” a familiar voice shouted from above.
Matthew looked up and laughed at Peter, grinning and peering over the side of the boat. He hadn’t seen his friend since they had parted in the Shenandoah. “Guess they’ll let anybody come to one of these shindigs,” Matthew yelled back.
With hope that a giant wave wouldn’t sweep him right over the side, he grabbed Peter’s hand gratefully and crawled over the side of the ship.
“The ocean doesn’t seem real happy to see you,” Peter said cheerfully, laughing harder when he looked at Matthew’s green face. “I take it your stomach is not thrilled with this assignment.”
“Give me a little time,” Matthew muttered, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he gazed around and focused on the ship to keep his mind off the pitching seas.
“Quite a boat, isn’t it?” Peter asked as he settled down next to Matthew.