He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve been inhuman without you.”
“I heard rumors of such. Shouldn’t you be with your regiment?”
“All taken care of. I’m right where I belong.”
She wiggled her body to fit more beside him than on top and yawned. “If I go to sleep, will you be here when I wake up?”
“If I have to leave, I’ll wake you.”
They slept until reveille, when he untangled himself and dressed in the weak light. She rolled flat on her belly and snuggled into General Sheridan’s linens. In the dim lantern light and through her thick lashes, she followed his every move as he washed and shaved, slipped into a clean shirt. Her heart filled and threatened to burst. As light inside the tent turned to gray, Little Phil stuck his head under the tent fly, coughed, and entered. The creak of leather and the clink of his spurs came with him. He hung a lantern on the center pole and she wondered, as she always did, how they managed to get his shirts so white. Even in the midst of battle she’d never seen him anything but perfectly groomed.
“I brought over some trousers and an old shirt,” the general whispered, approaching the cot. “I’m happy to find someone shorter than me able to use them”
Daniel stood at attention. “Thank you, Sir.”
The general smiled at her, then shifted his attention to Daniel. “At ease, Danny.” Any animosity of the night before was gone. “I sent Custer and Wilson’s divisions snapping at General Early’s heels. He’s finished. Jubilee doesn’t have the men to make another attempt. Those two captains of yours, Kincaid and Hunt, I promoted them to Lieutenant Colonels. Top notch officers. They’re handling your regiment with much skill, and Hal is watching over them. When you’re put together, you’re in charge of my headquarters. Sergeant Landon is a great organizer.” He pointed to Summer. “You may use my dog if you want. She’s smart, but watch her. Trouble shadows her!”
He chuckled and sat down on the edge of the cot. Only her head and part of a shoulder peeked out of the bed linens. She turned on her side and studied him. Clean-shaven, he smelled of Bay Rum and soap. He tousled what little hair she had and his black eyes softened, deep lines forming at the corners.
“My dog looks a little beat. You have my permission to stay in bed today, Lieutenant Ross. Dr. Stone says you’ll be fine. I’ll send over breakfast for both of you. I believe you have accomplished your purpose.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “I saw you standing in the stirrups, firing that Spencer as fine as any horse soldier I’ve ever had the privilege to command. You know, Mrs. Charteris, girls aren’t supposed to be able to do such things. We’ll be pushing south soon where we’ll run Bobby Lee’s Army into hell. We’ll end this goddamn war. Are you coming with us? I could use a sharpshooter.”
She smiled.
His face scrunched up, and he looked at the ceiling of the tent. “You’d think after yesterday, I’d be famous. I rallied the troops. I turned the day around. The Washington papers said I not only knocked McClellan out of the race for president, but predicted I would knock the price of gold down below $200. Do I get any credit? No. You know who everyone is talking about? Rienzi! He’s the hero of the day. A horse stole our thunder, Sam. No one will remember you or me. What would you think of my renaming Rienzi? I’m considering ‘Winchester’. How does that sound?”
She nodded. “I think Winchester would be a fine name. I’ve changed my name a few times, and it’s worked for me.”
He stood and noticed the rawhide cord beneath Daniel’s collar. He looked at her bare hand. “Daniel, she doesn’t happen to have a sister, does she?”
“No, Sir, she does not.”
CHAPTER 47
INDIAN SUMMER
Summer was still in bed, wearing an old shirt of Daniel’s, with her bottom discreetly covered but pointed toward the ceiling, when Sergeant Landon handed her a telegram.
GENERAL SHERIDAN:
I TENDER TO YOU AND YOUR BRAVE ARMY THE THANKS OF A NATION AND MY OWN PERSONAL ADMIRATION AND GRATITUDE FOR THE MONTH’S OPERATION IN THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY, AND ESPECIALLY FOR THE SPLENDID WORK ON OCTOBER 19.
A. LINCOLN.
“I’m so happy for him. He deserves it.”
“What’s more, Miss, is that Assistant Secretary of War, Charles Dana, arrived from Washington last night. We had to wake the general. Mr. Dana promoted him to major general in the regular army. No one can take that away from him after the war. Non-regular army commissions will revert to peacetime status after the war. He’ll be a major general forever.”
“Did he rename Rienzi?”
Sergeant Landon nodded. “Winchester. The local people love it. And there’s a Pass and Review this afternoon.” He handed her a package. “I picked these up in town for you. I guessed at the sizes.”
She stood on her knees, opened the package, and fluffed out several petticoats and a tiered skirt of gauzy blue cotton. After fingering the material, she shook out the full skirt and spread it out on the cot. Each tier, trimmed with a taupe ribbon embroidered with daisies, darkened to a deeper hue of blue. The white blouse and blue sweater were also trimmed with the same taupe band of daisies. She crushed the skirt and blouse to her chest. “I love it. Thank you. To be a girl again …” She giggled and held up the pantaloons. “You have remarkable taste, Sergeant.”
“I told you I have two teenage daughters. I’d better.”
“What about my hair?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. A number of the Southern ladies also chopped off their hair. You’ll be surprised how many you’ll see with scarves over their heads. The ladies, from what I understand, made a grand attempt to raise money for the Confederacy. They cut their hair and sent it to the European wig makers. I think they know now that our navy has their ports blocked. Nothing is getting in or out. You’ll see lots of shorthaired ladies about. If I were you, I’d be proud of your cropped hair. Now get dressed. I’ll send in some hot water and towels.” He winked at her. “You can use that pretty smelling stuff you used when you first came.”
“You knew?”
He chuckled. “I could smell you coming around a corner.”
Indian Summer came to the Shenandoah and stayed for most of the autumn. A purple haze hung over the valley, sunny days with a bite, and crisp nights. Summer Rose stayed, also. General Sheridan teased her, saying, “Summer is staying with us. You must stay, too.”
She, along with the soldiers, watched the great exodus from the valley. Sheridan’s army had burned and destroyed all its substance. No food or fodder remained for Bobby Lee’s army. None remained for the population, either.
Jack came to check on his sister and visited Hal. He told him to request leave so he could help his mother take his child to Philadelphia. Hal did so, then spent two days in Camelann, closing up the house, visiting the tenants, arranging for the care of the property and the animals.
Amelia, Becca, Ned, and Hal, along with baby Hank, took the train from Hanover. Hal delighted in holding Hank all the way to Philadelphia. The little boy could sit up now, and he smiled and giggled constantly. He loved to play peek-a-boo. Hal ran his fingers through the boy’s golden-red hair, thinking his hair must come from Fanny, but those eyes were his. Hal hadn’t imagined he could love anything as much as he loved Hank. He noticed Amelia’s fingers wiggling, wanting to hold the baby, but he only laughed.
“You can hold him while I arrange for the carriage,” he said. When Amelia’s expression didn’t change, he said, “Mother, quit fussing. You’ll have him until the end of the war. I’ll only have Hank for one more day.”
“I’m just afraid his mother will show up and take him away from me.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about Fanny. She didn’t want him. She left him.” Bitterness hardened his voice.
Amelia shook her head. “Hal! The girl is just sixteen. Few girls at sixteen have any idea what they want. Her father wrote me right after you were married and told me she’d lied about her age. He was very upset. He’s rich and
important. Who knows what he’ll do? I live in terror of them showing up at my doorstep and taking Hank away. I want to hide him somewhere he’ll be safe.”
“Quit worrying. Fanny wrote. Her father’s in Moscow, designing a railroad station. Her grandmother’s ill and not expected to live very long. Fanny is considering entering a convent.”
He didn’t say as much to his mother, but a sudden memory of Fanny in bed didn’t assimilate at all with images of her in a convent.
“Have you written back?”
“I’m thinking about writing. After all, she is Hank’s mother. I don’t want him to grow up and think I was unkind to her.”
“Why did she leave?”
He grinned. “You’ve been champing at the bit to ask that question, haven’t you?”
“I have. I thought you were happy.” She reached out, wiggling her fingers, but Hal ignored her. She gave up trying to hold the baby. Instead, she played peek-a-boo with a flannel blanket. “You haven’t answered my question, Hal.”
“I thought Jack would have told you.”
“Jack didn’t tell me anything. What a strange young man. What exactly does he do?”
Hal had no idea how to answer her. Words just popped out of his mouth. “I don’t know. Something with the President. Something secretive.”
The train stopped for fuel and water near Downingtown. Hal stood, holding Hank against his shoulder. The baby’s pale skin and golden down set against Hal’s leathered face and dark hair made quite a contrast.
“Let’s get some air,” he said.
Once outside, he shrugged. “Don’t blame Fanny, Mother. I wasn’t a very good husband. When we get home, let’s have one of those photographs taken of Hank. I’ll send it to her. I know I’m biased, but isn’t he the most beautiful child you’ve ever seen?”
“Do you want her back?” The sun glistened off Hal’s crystal blue eyes and Hank’s downy hair. Her grandson, so fair and smooth, her soldier son, so dark and weathered. Such a pretty and poignant picture. Her fingers itched to draw, and she thought of the sketchpad and pencils in her valise.
“I don’t know, but I’d like Hank to get to know her.” He put his free arm around Amelia. “It would be terrible to grow up without a mother.”
CHAPTER 48
BOURBON AND TEACAKES
When he returned to the Shenandoah, Hal carried a bottle filled with Woodford Reserve bourbon and two glasses over to Daniel’s tent when he knew Summer Rose wouldn’t be there. They shared a drink and he told Daniel that the Zimmermans were taking care of the animals, that they had closed the house for the winter.
“Nip and Tuck will let Margie feed them. She spoils them.” He reported on the status of their mutual holdings, then pulled out the photograph he’d had taken of Hank, and told Daniel he’d sent one similar to Fanny. “My mother’s painting a portrait of Hank and me. It’s pretty good.”
Daniel and Hal spoke to each other about business or army matters. They asked about each other’s sister and parents. But there was never any mention of the incident with Hal and Summer. Hal made certain that, even from a distance, he didn’t make direct eye contact with her. One time, he found himself in the same room with her but immediately situated himself in a far corner, leaving a few minutes later. But he wasn’t the only one having trouble adapting. Even Daniel, who longed to touch her, treated her as if he were her brother.
Daniel and Summer hardly had a chance to talk. She still slept on the cot in the warehouse. The sergeant, the general, most of the army noticed. No one commented. Chunks of the barriers between them fell, but the wall remained.
She told him she’d overheard him talking to his parents and knew about her grandparents. They talked about their deaths, how the bank had taken care of the funerals, how they’d tried to contact her, and how she could use the interest from their estate however she wanted. He didn’t want her to know that the money would come to him, because women didn’t own property. The minute they married, the money always went to their husbands. He’d forward the money to her, because her financial independence from him became important. He wanted her to want him for the same reasons he wanted her. He wanted her because he couldn’t help himself. She was as much a part of him as were his bones and blood.
When they were together, he confused her. One minute she thought he wanted nothing to do with her, yet, at the same time, she felt the heat of him. His pale eyes smoldered, all but smoked. Without them as much as touching, desire swamped her. All he needs to do is snap his fingers, and I will melt. Then she shook her head and reminded herself about the gold piece. The devil in her told her to charge a lot more than two dollars.
When he talked about her grandparents’ estate, she told Daniel, “I don’t want to live anywhere but Camelann. I don’t need money there.”
He nodded. “I don’t want to live anywhere else, either.” He wanted to live in the valley with her and their child. He knew they’d need money eventually, but he didn’t press the point.
Frustrated and a little frightened—frightened that it would never be right with her and Daniel—she marched directly to General Sheridan. He was sitting, hatless, at a folding table outside his headquarters, writing a letter and soaking in the weak afternoon sunlight. Rocks held his papers flat, keeping them from blowing about the camp.
Summer sat on a folding chair opposite him. The wind blew her short hair all about. She loved that it didn’t tangle, even in all this wind. “We won’t be longer than a week, Sir. We need to check out our property.”
He pulled a chair beside her and signaled Sergeant Landon, who set about fixing them a tray with a tea service, cups and saucers, and a plate of cookies. The sergeant used his general’s Spode.
“How much property do you have?” he asked. He stood and rearranged stacks of papers and rocks, and took the tray from Sergeant Landon. He poured her tea. “Sugar?”
She shook her head. “About eight thousand acres, Sir.”
He moved his chair closer, and they talked together for over a half an hour. The soft autumn breeze wound round them. She described the lake and the valley, and its history with her family. Then she explained that Daniel and Hal had bought the original acres from her brother, then bought adjacent farms and leased them to veterans.” Her eyes grew huge, and she whispered, “You know, a lot of soldiers didn’t reenlist after their three years were up.”
She took another cookie and he nodded, almost choking on his tea with surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be informed.
She told him how she treasured the land, how she wanted to keep it a place where the eagles could come back to their nests year after year, a place where the beavers could find their lodges forever.
“You know, Sir, the Indians felled trees over the beaver lodges and used them as bridges across streams so as not to damage the beavers’ homes.” She made a sweeping motion with her hands. “I even want to keep the bears and the mountain lions, as long as they don’t get too close to the house. It’s truly God’s country. You can’t imagine, General, how beautiful it is. After the war, you must come for a visit.”
She took a sip of tea. “Where do you get this tea? It’s delicious. Did George make the cookies?”
Her presence, her voice, the way she grinned, all her questions, and the light sparkling in her eyes wove a web about him. How did she know about the dearth of reenlistments? The Indians? He noticed she still didn’t have Daniel’s ring on her finger. He knew better than to hope, but he could imagine. After all, he was a major general.
“Sergeant Landon’s wife sends us the tea, and yes, George made the cookies. Try a tea cake. The ones with powdered sugar are my favorite.”
What little they saw of the Shenandoah Valley was deserted. Because of the mild weather, some green showed through the scorched earth, but the ground was still predominantly blackened grass. Those farmhouses still standing were vacant, the great barns were ashes, as were the mills. The miles of fence rows and the herds were gone. Even the field
mice, gophers, groundhogs, and birds had deserted the now burned vistas. The vast richness inherent in the Shenandoah lay fallow.
They saw only one family, glassy-eyed with hunger. Even the children glared at them. Summer insisted they give them a ham, potatoes, flour, and coffee.
The first day they talked vaguely about the baby. Ray had told her she’d be all right on horseback as long as she took it easy. He advised her to dismount every few miles and walk a mile or so. “A blast in your backside didn’t shake loose that baby. I think a nice ride won’t hurt. Just don’t push yourself too hard.” He told Daniel much the same for different reasons.
As they walked in front of their horses, he asked, “Are you happy about the baby?”
“Very,” she said.
He took her hand and her heart fluttered, then flew up to her throat. His hand, brown and strong, swallowed hers. The hardness, the warmth flooded right up her arm. Memories tripped over each other. She remembered his forearms on their wedding night. How strong, how gentle, how they’d held her.
“I remember the first time I held your hand. Do you?” he asked.
She nodded, feeling suddenly shy. “Right after I killed the snake.”
“You know, I always suspected something wasn’t quite right about Kip.” His eyes danced. “I even asked Hal if Kip could be a girl’s name.”
“You’re making that up. You had no idea Kip was a girl.”
They walked in silence for a while, still holding hands. “I suspected. I certainly like Kip as a girl.”
“You do, do you? Maybe we should name the baby Kip. What do you think?”
He shook his head. “Only you could ever be Kip. I’ve given a little thought to the names. If it’s a boy, I’d like to name him Micah Angus. Is that okay with you? I have great admiration for your father, even though I never met him. He’s one of my heroes.”
He looked at her again, his eyes soft. “If it’s a girl, you’ll probably want to name her after your mother. I like Lillian. I’d like to call her Lillian Rose, after you and your mother. I wish I’d known her.”
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