Patrick sat through the homily planning his escape after Mass. He had no intention of enduring more rejection by Katherine, especially in front of Edward. He was glad his mother and father sat between him and Katherine, though he couldn’t keep himself from looking in her direction. At the completion of the service, Patrick stood, reached for his mother’s arm, and strode briskly down the center aisle, intending to be the first out of the church. But his mother stopped to talk to Ginny Brady’s mother and Ginny latched onto his arm. “Patrick, you haven’t called me to go horseback riding. We can go to the meadow for a picnic,” she winked.
“This week, Ginny.” Patrick thought distractedly that she was rather cute, but his eyes tracked Katherine, who was near the back of the sanctuary. Soon she would be outside the church before him. “Father, could you escort Mother, please?” he said hurriedly. “I’ll get Rudy to bring the carriage from out back. Bye, Ginny.”
Patrick walked out the church entrance and almost straight into Katherine, who was standing alone waiting for Edward to finish talking to some friends of his. Patrick couldn’t avoid a greeting without being very impolite. “Good day, Miss Lovington.” He tipped his hat to her. “I didn’t see you at the office this week.”
Katherine smiled. “Grandfather has not felt well. But I plan to be at the office tomorrow.”
Patrick’s heart was racing. Why am I so nervous, he thought. I’ve known her since childhood. “Katherine. I am so sorry for being so rude at the ball. I just—well, I just gave in to an impulse.”
He started to walk away, but Katherine reached out and touched his arm, saying, “Wait, Patrick.” She glanced at Edward, who was still engaged with his friends, and said quietly, “I was impulsive, too. Are you going to the office tomorrow?”
“Yes, certainly I am.” Patrick’s voice brightened. She was wearing the perfume again.
“Can you take lunch in the boardroom with me?”
“I’d be honored.”
At noontime the next day Patrick stood as Katherine entered the boardroom. “Good day, Katherine.” He bowed slightly and pulled out her chair for her. She was struck by how regal his Army uniform made him seem, and surprised at how impressive she found the pistol on his right hip.
Katherine and Patrick both ordered broth and chicken. As the waiter left Patrick said, “I did enjoy dancing with you at the ball.”
“And I with you. I wanted to meet you today to apologize if I caused you any embarrassment that night.”
“Oh, Katherine. It wasn’t you. I mean, I wasn’t embarrassed. No, what I mean, that is—you shouldn’t apologize.” Patrick was talking as fast as a horse in full gallop. “I should.”
They were quiet as the waiters set bowls in front of each of them. Each spooned the hot broth slowly. Patrick blew on his, and held his spoon up while the soup cooled. “Katherine. Could we start over? Again?”
“Let’s do that,” Katherine answered. “Fresh from this moment.”
Feeling that he wanted to dance or skip, Patrick fidgeted in his chair and searched for conversation. “Why are you working in the family business? Women don’t go into business. I thought medicine was your preferred career.”
Katherine finished chewing her chicken, then looked Patrick in the eye. “Who told you I wanted to be a doctor?”
“Well...my father told me you wanted to go to medical school.”
“I did.” Katherine became animated. “But they don’t think a woman should be a doctor. How stupid! Do they think a woman wants a man feeling around her body when she is sick?”
Patrick took another bite of chicken. He wasn’t going to answer that. After he swallowed he asked again, “But why business? It will be a difficult road for you. I can’t even figure why you’re not married. Surely you’re the most popular lady in Philadelphia.”
“I’ve had offers. I’ve just never met any man who attracted me more than my dream. Have you ever lost someone you love to illness?” Katherine began talking, starting with her mother’s death and continuing through her grandfather’s offer. Patrick did not move a muscle while she talked. He admired her passion and commitment. By the time she finished, she had slid forward to the edge of her chair. “Medical care is just awful. Something has to be done. And I’m the one to bring change.”
Patrick interjected, “All I know is my mother never called a doctor when I was sick. She had remedies she said my grandmother used. Look at me. I’m okay.” He lifted the last bite of his chicken.
Katherine said Patrick’s health was not the issue. If he were married and had a child, that child had as good a chance of dying as it did of living. If he got typhoid or cholera in the war he’d die—without ever being shot. And if he was shot and got pneumonia, there was no treatment. Doctors did not even know what cancer was. “My problem, Patrick, is I just don’t know how to find these answers. So I’ll just be sure I have the money when I do know how.”
Katherine’s enthusiasm excited Patrick. “I think you’ll probably make your mark on medicine some way, Katherine Lovington.” Patrick had promised himself he would be restrained, but he just couldn’t help himself. “Would you like to go horseback riding tomorrow?”
Katherine sat back in her chair and let her excitement about medicine calm. “No, Patrick. Maybe another time. Grandfather keeps telling me we have to be friends because we’ll own this company together. It would be so uncomfortable if we were to try to have a closer relationship and fail.”
Patrick had no response to this. He hadn’t even considered failure.
“I have to go back to work,” she said, standing. “Thank you for taking lunch with me.”
Patrick stood as Katherine walked out, trying unsuccessfully to find the words to say what he felt. He sat for several minutes by himself. What was he to make of this woman? She invited him to lunch, but wouldn’t go riding. She was passionate about improving medicine, but was a shrewd businesswoman. He hadn’t met a woman who wanted to be anything but a wife. As he stood to leave, he resolved to spend more time with Katherine. Although not admitting it to himself, his deepest wish was to kiss her fully and have her respond in kind!
Patrick’s week went slowly. Katherine was again absent from the office, tending to her grandfather’s ailing joints. But at the end of the week she sent Pollard to the Sullivan home with a note, requesting that Patrick escort her to church on Sunday because her grandfather was to rest all weekend.
When they entered the church, the first person Patrick saw was Edward. Patrick winked. Edward scowled. Katherine frowned at both of them. On the way home after Mass, Patrick sat on the same bench in the carriage as Katherine rather than across from her. She allowed that, but asked sharply, “What was that exchange between you and Edward?”
“A friendly competition.”
“At Mass?”
“Edward wants your hand.”
“Humph.” Katherine hesitated and then tilted her head and gave Patrick a tight-lipped kiss. “You win.” Patrick put his arm around her shoulders and leaned his head down for more, but that was all the favor she was giving. Still, Patrick rode his horse home waving to all he passed.
Monday, Edward visited Patrick at the Donovan and Sullivan headquarters. His conversation was not cordial. After reminding Patrick of their years of friendship, he asked why was Patrick escorting his lady to church. When Patrick replied it was at Katherine’s invitation, Edward bristled. He laid down the challenge of a fox hunt duel between them. The winner would present the brush, the fox’s tail, to Katherine. The loser would refrain from escorting her. Despite Patrick’s objections that it was not necessary to lose their friendship over a woman, Edward insisted. Patrick agreed as long as they promised to go to the bar afterwards.
The day of the hunt, Saturday, was bright with sunshine as the riders and hounds gathered in the Donovan stables. The best foxhunt field was a six square mile area of this estate. James Donovan’s Master of the Hunt was the referee of the match, and the master’s son would be the whipp
er-in to control the English scent hounds. It was not foxhunt season, which had ended in May, but this field would have foxes to chase. The young ones born in January would be very fast and difficult to kill before they went to ground in their burrows. For those watching the match this heightened the competition. There would be observers on horseback following the chase. This duel was no secret. Over the week, word had spread to friends of Edward and Patrick.
Not all were excited about this competition. “It is childish,” Margaret chastised her son. “Too childish for an Army captain. And over a girl you have always disliked.”
“Mother, for me this is a sporting contest. I fear it is a matter of honor for Edward. Frankly, from what I know of Katherine, she won’t give a damn who wins a fox hunt. She’ll choose who she wants.”
Katherine remained at home all week. She was furious at Edward for making this challenge and she sent him a note asking him to withdraw it. He replied that it was now a matter of honor. If he won the brush he would ask for the chance to win her hand. Katherine sent him a note saying that winning the challenge did not mean he would win her heart. He did not respond.
Patrick was sure of himself as they saddled their field hunter horses. He knew Edward spent his time with books in law school. He’d won awards in marksmanship at West Point. His assignment to the cavalry was testament to his horsemanship.
They shook hands before mounting, Edward with a stern face and Patrick with a smile. The horses loped toward the chosen covert with the dogs merrily leading the way.
It didn’t take long before the hounds sniffed out a fox. Two of them. Probably young brothers, Patrick surmised. The hounds’ howling made it easy to track them when they disappeared into the brush. Edward and Patrick’s horses were neck and neck as they pursued. The two men were leaning forward slightly out of their saddles with their horses in full gallop. Suddenly the hunt broke into the open meadow and Patrick saw the two foxes sprinting ahead.
Patrick saw the wide ditch first. The foxes disappeared as they went into it, then reappeared on the far side, the hounds getting closer. He rose out of his saddle and his horse leaped the ditch, but to his surprise Edward’s horse landed right beside him. This is not going to be so easy, he thought. Just as the horses were gaining traction after landing on the far side of the ditch, Edward snapped his whip across the eyes of Patrick’s horse. “You son of a bitch,” Patrick hollered at the disappearing Edward. Patrick’s horse pulled up, shaking its head, while Patrick leaned down and whispered soothing words in its ear. The horse calmed.
Suddenly, Patrick saw the foxes streaking toward him in blurs of golden red. He yelled out to no one but his horse, “They reversed the field on the hounds. They’re trying to outfox them!” Patrick grinned at his good luck. Now he led the chase!
The foxes veered right when they saw Patrick’s horse, but he was instantly on their track. They leaped a low rock fence that Patrick’s horse took in stride. Patrick sensed they were going to ground. He spurred his horse forward, his pistol aimed at the trailing fox. He fired. Blood spurted from the animal’s chest and it twisted in the air and dropped in its tracks. When Edward rode up, Patrick waved the brush gleefully at him. It was over. Edward left Patrick standing and rode off toward the stables. They would not be going to the bar together.
When Patrick delivered the brush to the Donovan home, Emma admitted him to the parlor. Katherine swept into the room with a smile and accepted the prize. “I told you coming home from church that you had won. You didn’t need to do this, but since you are the winner of the competition you should get a prize, too. Next Saturday, before you leave for the Army, we will go riding alone. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Patrick?”
“Yes it is, Katherine. When I started today, I was doing this for the athletic competition. By the time I won, I was doing it for you.”
That week, Patrick worked every day in the office with his father, but his mind was on the coming Saturday. He and Katherine enjoyed several lunches together, both of them now more comfortable with each other, though anticipation about Saturday shadowed their conversation on Thursday and Friday.
On Saturday Patrick arrived at the Donovan Estate in a red fox hunt jacket and riding breeches, boots, and a top hat. Katherine wore a tailor-made black jacket over a bodice with plain cuffs, black riding breeches, and black boots. Her hair hung free below her shoulders, accented by a broad-brimmed magenta hat with flowers adorning it. “You continue to shock me, Miss Katherine. When I first saw you at the ball I had never seen a gown like yours. Now you appear exquisitely dressed for riding.”
“Did you think I spent all my time wearing a green eyeshade?”
“I am sure that you would look good in one. But I must ask you: Are you wearing black to mourn Edward?” Both laughed heartily.
As Katherine mounted her horse, Patrick looked surprised. “Do you not ride side-saddle?”
“Patrick. My father had a farm in Lancaster and I rode every night to bring in the mares and cows. I like to be able to gallop!”
Patrick shook his head. In the field he showed off, jumping brooks with his horse and galloping after rabbits, firing his pistol at them. Katherine kept up with him. “You are quite a horseman,” Patrick said with admiration.
“Patrick, I am a horsewoman, fortunately, or I doubt you would be out here with me. I have ridden since I was able to mount a horse by myself. Are you hungry? I brought a picnic.”
“You did? Capital. Let’s stop here by the brook. I’ll ladle some water into our cups.” He swung one leg over his saddle and jumped to the ground, then opened his saddlebag. Katherine tethered her horse and lifted the picnic bag from behind her saddle. From it she drew cheese and bread, pickles, and sliced apples, which she set on a rock they used as a table. The sun made Katherine’s newly washed hair glisten.
“This is delightful!” Patrick gushed as he bit into some cheese. Then swallowing, he said quietly, “I am going to miss you, Katherine. Will you write me?”
Katherine fixed her bright blue eyes on his Irish green ones and said, “I will. I will keep you informed on all the events in the company—and our families, of course.”
“Katherine, I really don’t care so much about the company right now. You can make all the decisions. I may not even want to run it after the war. I might stay in the Army and become a general.”
“Patrick!” Katherine said with concern in her voice. “You must return. You know I will not be accepted as Chairman of the Board. A woman is bad enough, a young woman has no chance. You must be the titular head.”
Patrick stared at Katherine. Then a smile turned his mouth upwards. “I’ll make a business deal with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused by this suggestion.
“I said I’ll make you a deal so we can work together.”
“And that is...?”
“That you’ll marry me!”
“Oh! What—can’t—is that a proposal?” she finally blurted.
“Yes, Katherine Lovington. I just asked you to marry me.”
Katherine sat, her mouth agape. She had dreamed of him at night and fantasized about them as man and wife, but she still felt sure he was a scoundrel, a playboy only interested in adding her to his conquests. This proposal did not seem like reality.
Patrick stood and she looked up at him quizzically. He took her hands and lifted her to her feet, slid one hand around her waist and the other behind her neck and pulled her tightly to him as her lips parted to meet his. The kiss was reality. They dropped to their knees, still embracing. Patrick lowered her to the ground and rolled on top of her. She felt his erection against her pelvis. So that’s what it feels like. Her married friend’s stories flitted through her brain. She moaned out loud. Patrick began to loosen her bodice.
No. I’ve got to stop or we never will. She pushed him up. “Patrick. Patrick. It is too soon. I can’t say for sure I will marry you. And I will save myself for my husband. It is cruel to say, but you might die a
t war. Where am I then?”
“I will never die. I promise you.” He was flummoxed by his emotions. His passion had dissipated, but his longing had grown. He had a strange lack of control of his feelings. “I love you,” he blurted, with as much surprise as intention.
She lifted her head, put both her hands behind his ears and kissed him sweetly, holding the embrace until she needed air. “Enough,” she said. Then she gathered the picnic remains while he collected the horses, and they rode back to the Donovan estate in silence, each thinking about what they wished had happened and each wondering about the days to come.
Chapter Five
WAR AND LOVE
Patrick Sullivan lay in the damp weeds listening for the sounds of rebels. He and eight of his men had settled in the wet, fragrant ravine so he could watch the sloping hill that led east to Chancellorsville. The marshy grass offered good cover, but the conditions were muddy, wet and cold for May. “They’ll send out a reconnaissance team to scout our positions on the high ground,” he had explained to his men. “Tether your horses. And no fires.” Each man wore a dark blue waist-length coat and sky-blue wool pants over black boots. Their forage caps were tilted forward and buckled under their chins. No one expected to get any sleep. Patrick stared into the black void, listening for sounds of men on horseback.
So far, Patrick’s war had not held glory—only blood, disease, and death. Crowded, filthy camps. Fits of diarrhea. Sheer terror when musket balls flew by him. Sadness when one of his men died. His men followed him faithfully. His instinct for danger and where to take the fight astonished even veteran soldiers. But he was beginning to think his fame could be better sought in Philadelphia, where there was love, too. His embrace with Katherine by the brook had been the beginning of a two-year love affair that consumed him. Each letter from her swelled his desire. She wrote that she wanted to be more than business partners and spoke of her love.
Patrick’s ears still rang from the cacophony of battle, a fierce fourhour firefight near the town of Chancellorsville in Spotsylvania County, Virginia. Union General Joe Hooker had been ordered by President Lincoln to take the fight to enemy General Robert E. Lee and push him back to Richmond. But even though Hooker had twice Lee’s troops, Hooker had pulled back the day before. Now, May 2, General Oliver Howard’s division was protecting the right flank for the Army of the Potomac.
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