by Mary Ellis
“I care little about what you wear, Madeline, and even less about what Mrs. Lang thinks. Soon we’ll never see that annoying woman again.”
She stopped short on the sidewalk. “Why are you limping? Did you hurt your leg as well as your shoulder? You didn’t have a limp a week ago.”
“Nothing to worry about… a minor leg wound that has healed up nicely.” His snaked his good arm around her waist.
She turned her gaze skyward, where tree branches were filled with fragrant apple blossoms. “You were shot twice? I must say, my secret gift didn’t live up to its reputation.”
“Are you referring to this?” James withdrew the chain from beneath his shirt collar. The silver medallion discovered in the wooded glade months ago dangled from the end.
“Yes, the Saint Christopher medal. You found where I’d hidden it in your pocket?”
“I did. But you should examine it closely before pronouncing it unworthy.”
Turning the medallion over between her fingers, Madeline found a smooth, dime-sized indention in the silver. “What on earth… ”
“That medal stopped a bullet on its way to my heart. Although it was supposed to protect you, I’m grateful for your gift.”
“You were shot three times?” Her jaw dropped in disbelief.
“Indeed, I should be set for life.” On impulse, he lifted her chin and kissed her.
“That would be my fondest hope too,” she said, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Shall we walk? I want to hear about Major Henry’s deathbed confession. And I have much to tell you about my dear cousin. Only Eugenia can plan a wedding in the midst of chaos.”
For several hours they simply sauntered up one lane and down the next, never running out of things to say. They had two years’ worth—or perhaps a lifetime—of tales to share. When Madeline’s limp from her new shoes became as pronounced as his, they walked back to the inn.
“Ah, General Downing, I was wonderin’ when you would be back.” Mrs. Lang swept open the door before they reached the front steps. “I just set the kettle of stew on the parlor table. Didn’t want it scorchin’ on the stove too long. Cold is better than burnt any day.”
James and Madeline sidled through the doorway, where the woman practically blocked their passage. “Thank you, Mrs. Lang. I’m sure the food will be delicious,” he said graciously.
“I also put a pan of cornbread on the table, along with fresh butter. Don’t have no fancy wine for your reunion, just well water. Nobody in town has spirits, except Mr. Mosley, and you don’t want to drink his plum wine.” She offered them an unpleasant expression.
“Water will be perfect. Thank you again, ma’am.” James led Madeline to the parlor hearth, where a warm fire blazed. A jelly jar of violets sat on a table covered with starched white linen, a charming effect despite the mismatched china.
Unfortunately, their innkeeper followed them into the room. “I wanted to go over details for tomorrow, sir. Should I—”
James cut her off with a low voice. “Nothing has changed since I sent my written instructions. If you would follow them exactly and not interrupt us again tonight, I will double the fee for your services.” He struggled to keep his temper.
“Fine, sir. If you wanted privacy with your lady friend, why didn’t you just say so?” Mrs. Lang stalked from the room, sliding the pocket doors closed behind her.
Once they were blissfully alone, Madeline burst out laughing. “All you had to do was say so, James. I’m not sure why you can’t express yourself.” She fluffed her napkin over her lap and pulled off the lid to the kettle. The rich aroma of beef, onion, celery, and carrots filled the air and whetted their appetites.
“I have better luck getting soldiers to do my bidding. I have little familiarity with all of this.” The tightness in his stomach had nothing to do with hunger.
Her face sobered. “Do you mean no familiarity with courting or with a world not at war?”
“Either. Both, if the truth be told.” James sat clumsily on a chair too small for his size.
“Try not to fret, General. Let’s eat Mrs. Lang’s stew and not worry about the rest of our lives.”
And so they ate two helpings each and then swabbed up the gravy with the last piece of cornbread. Although the inn’s cuisine was far from gourmet, James couldn’t remember a more enjoyable meal. They talked and laughed until the fire turned to cold ashes on the hearth. Yet neither wanted the evening to end.
When the mantle clock chimed eleven, Madeline pushed back her chair. “I should let you get some sleep, James,” she said. “It sounds as though you have an important errand tomorrow.”
“Yes, very important indeed, my dear.” He studied her profile in the candlelight as though he hadn’t been looking at her all evening.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” She slanted a peevish gaze at him.
He refused to be baited. “It’s a personal matter of the utmost urgency.”
She rose regally to her feet and dropped her napkin on the table. “In that case, as punishment for secrecy you will get no good night kiss. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.” She strode from the room with only a hint of a dimple betraying her amusement.
“Mrs. Howard… ”
The innkeeper’s voice finally penetrated her dream. Madeline bolted upright. The woman stood at the foot of her bed, holding a pale green dress she’d never seen before.
“What is it, Mrs. Lang? Is the house on fire?” She clutched the quilt beneath her chin.
“No, no. General Downing said he would like you to accompany him on a very important errand.” Mrs. Lang draped the beautiful dress across a chair and then boldly pulled undergarments from her guest’s bureau drawer.
“Has he indeed? And where exactly would that be?” Madeline asked, not budging from the warm, comfortable bed.
Mrs. Lang, however, wasn’t one to stand on proper decorum. With a single yank she pulled the covers from the bed, leaving Madeline shivering in her thin chemise. “You’ll have to ask him yourself. He’s downstairs with a carriage waiting on the street. I filled you a tub in the bath down the hall. I suggest you hurry, and wear that dress there. The general ordered it special.”
“I already told you I have no need of fancy gowns. I’ll soon return to my farm and—” Her explanation hung unfinished in the air because the exasperating woman had already headed downstairs. Madeline had little choice but do as she was told.
She should be annoyed by James’s bossy presumptuousness. She should stand her ground and assert independence before finding herself in a compromising situation. Yet something suggested patience. A small voice whispered that all would be well because she loved him and he loved her.
So Madeline bathed, brushed out her hair, and dressed in the beautiful gown that fit surprisingly well. Then she descended the steps to find her landlady gone and the general lounging on the porch.
“Ah, you’re ready at last. Shall we be off?” James offered an arm.
“Very well, but I’m curious regarding your mysterious plans.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“The sun is shining and birds are singing. I thought we could take a ride on this lovely April day.”
Swallowing back her retort, Madeline took several deep breaths. Inside the carriage she began to relax when they reached the edge of town. The air smelled clean and fresh, and the spring sun was warm on her skin. Just for a moment, she imagined she was home in Pennsylvania. When she opened her eyes, they had stopped in front of a small white church. Without stained glass windows and a soaring bell tower, it was no great cathedral like St. Paul’s, yet it possessed its own beauty. “Is this one of your errands? Are you acquainted with this church?”
“No, I’ve never been here before, but why don’t we go inside?” He jumped down and extended his hand.
Madeline’s heart quickened, while a frisson of anxiety snaked up her spine. “What are you up to, James? Why have we come here?”
“To get married,
of course. I can’t take you back to headquarters and then on to Washington for the Grand Review unless we are properly wed. How would it look?” He lifted a massive bouquet of bluebells, trilliums, and purple hyacinths from behind the seat.
“Get married? In Virginia?” It sounded as though she were comparing the state to the deserts of Arabia. “I can’t possibly marry you today.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because we have no preacher.”
“He’s inside, waiting for us.”
“What about a witness?”
“Mrs. Lang is also inside the chapel, doubtlessly peeking out the window.”
“But you have no ring.”
“Indeed, I do.” James withdrew a narrow gold band from his breast pocket. “I purchased it months ago just for this propitious occasion. I ordered a wedding dress in your favorite color and spent the entire morning picking these.” He held out the flowers. “Not a bad bunch, if I do say so myself. You know I love you and I suspect you love me. So, Mrs. Howard, what seems to be the problem?”
Staring at the wildflowers, Madeline smoothed her hands down the imported silk. “Green is my favorite color and the flowers are lovely, but haven’t you forgotten something?” Her voice sounded small and childlike. “You haven’t asked me yet.”
James flushed to a deep shade of scarlet. “Madeline, I cannot bear another moment without you as my wife. Before another war starts, or we’re captured by bandits, or lightning strikes the steeple, will you marry me?”
Her gaze turned skyward. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, but very well, General Downing. I will marry you here and now. After all, Virginia is almost starting to feel like home.”
Cashtown, Pennsylvania
AUGUST 1865
“Scat!” Madeline brought her broom down inches from the rodent’s long, skinny tail. “I’ll teach you what happens when somebody other than me naps on my new feather pillow.” Whap. When the broom handle stuck the pine floorboards with a resounding echo, the gray mouse scuttled through a hole to freedom. “And stay out!” She shouted at the top of her lungs.
With the battle temporarily stalemated, Madeline climbed down the ladder to the first floor in search of cooler air outdoors. She was greeted, however, by Reverend and Mrs. Bennett wearing expressions of shock, and her new husband, his expression mirthful.
“Mrs. Downing,” said Reverend Bennett. “Have we come at a bad time?” His wife stepped closer to his side.
Madeline was flummoxed. “No, I’m always pleased to see you two. Let’s go sit in the shade. I have a jug of tea cooling in the root cellar.” She brushed her palms together.
Mrs. Bennett glanced toward the loft window. “Shouldn’t we invite your houseguest to join us?”
“Houseguest? No one is here but James and me.” She stared at the pastor’s wife in confusion.
“Then who fell asleep on your bed?” Mrs. Bennett spoke softly so as not to be overheard by the intruder.
It took Madeline a few moments before comprehension dawned. “Oh, my. I beg your pardon. No one was supposed to hear my temper tantrum. A mouse has invaded our bedroom. He insists on leaving behind muddy footprints… or something worse.”
Both Bennetts tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.
“Don’t be fooled by Madeline.” James stroked his beard, which he recently clipped very short. “She treats me the same way as the mouse if I roll onto her half of the bed or pull too much of the quilt to my side.”
“Oh, James.” Madeline blushed at his boldness in front of the preacher—a man she’d known most of her life. “Be careful or all you’ll get for supper is a piece of cheese.” She linked arms with him as the foursome walked to the shade of an ancient maple.
The tree, like the horse barn, had remained untouched during the artillery shelling that destroyed her home. Thanks to the residents of Cashtown, all residue of that horrible fire was gone. Over the original root cellar—her refuge—James was building a new house atop the river rock foundation. Board by board, nail by nail, the two-story clapboard with a wide wraparound porch and tin roof would shelter their family for years to come. A family she hoped would steadily increase in number.
“The place is coming along nicely, General Downing.” Reverend Bennett shaded his eyes from the sun’s glare. “Astounding progress in two short months.”
“James, please, sir. I resigned from the army and no longer use my military title. I have become a simple Pennsylvania farmer.”
“No, sir, I don’t think I could call you that, not after your exemplary years of service to our country. Why, a day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear about your valor on the battlefield. The men of the Fourth Corps served proudly under you and will sing your praise until their dying day.”
Settling back on her elbows, Madeline stretched her legs out in the grass. James would allow the minister to ramble on about the war. He would clench his teeth but not interrupt, because it did no good whatsoever. Men loved to talk war stories… except for her beloved husband. James was determined to become a horse breeder and trainer as Tobias had been. His West Point education left him ill-prepared for life after the army. So when he finished working on their house for the day, he read books about horse husbandry by the fire. He vowed on their wedding day never to take up arms against his fellow man again. James didn’t even like hunting deer for meat for their table. But Madeline didn’t care if their diet consisted of beans, corn, and barley. His gentle heart belonged to her. And what woman in love could ask for more than that?
“Let me know when you’re ready for roof rafters.” Reverend Bennett finished his drink and rose to his feet. “Men from far and wide will come to help. Everyone wants you settled in the new house as soon as possible. We’re all happy you decided to make Cashtown your home.”
“You two need to give the barn loft back to the mice,” Mrs. Bennett said as she fanned herself with her apron.
“What a splendid idea,” Madeline agreed eagerly. “James promised we’ll be in by the first snowfall.”
“Walk me to my buggy, Madeline,” said Mrs. Bennett. “I picked up your mail in town and brought lamb stew and an apple pie for supper.”
“You’ve spoiled me so badly I won’t know what to do in my new kitchen.” Madeline flashed her husband a wink.
At the road James shook hands with Reverend Bennett, smiling and waving until they turned onto the road. Once the buggy disappeared, he encircled her waist with his strong arms. “Mmm. Lamb stew sounds delicious.”
Laden down with the pie and a kettle of stew, Madeline was trapped in his embrace. “I think so too, and you really should let them help us beyond just bringing the occasional meal. They want to so badly, and I don’t think Reverend Bennett will take no for an answer.”
“They’ve already done plenty by organizing that party for us. People brought bedding, crockery, almost everything we’ll need. The men helped me put in a late crop of hay and corn. And at least a dozen members of my former corps promised spring foals to start our breeding stock.” James took the pies from her armload.
“That’s what friends and neighbors do. They help one another.”
“I’ve never had neighbors before, only fellow officers in the military. Besides, rebuilding this house is something I wanted to do for you. A labor of love—my love.”
“And I love you, but letting them help will get us under roof that much sooner.”
“And curtail the romantic atmosphere of the hayloft?”
“The mice would like their domain back.”
“Won’t you miss cooking over an open campfire?”
“I have my eye on a new coal stove in town.”
“Your pioneer ancestors would cluck their tongues,” James murmured as he nuzzled her ear.
“Not the female half. They would understand. Besides, you promised me a proper honeymoon when we move your furniture from Philadelphia. I’m eager to travel east.”
James kissed the bridge of her nose. “Your wish
is my command.”
“In that case, hold this pie and Mrs. Bennett’s kettle of stew so I can open this letter. It’s from my aunt in Richmond.”
As they strolled up the dirt lane, Madeline’s eyes skimmed over Clarisa’s small, precise handwriting. “Goodness, so much news! I’ll read you the whole letter at supper. But the best part is Eugenia is getting married in November. She begs me… us to come to her wedding. Oh, James, I do wish to honor my promise, but I don’t want to travel alone. Please say you’ll come with me.”
He sighed wearily. “Maddy, how could a Yankee general show his face in Richmond? That town has suffered greatly.”
“But it was the Fourth Corps—your men—who put out the fires or the destruction would have been so much worse.”
“Few citizens will remember that detail, my love. Your family might not be able to relax if I’m there.”
“My family remembers. That’s why your name is also on the invitation.” She showed him the envelope.
James shook his head with a slow smile. “You win, but I refuse to wear my uniform. I’ll dress as a simple horse breeder or I won’t go.”
Madeline wrapped both arms around his waist. “I thought the Downings had sworn off lives of subterfuge.”
“Hmm, why don’t we implement that pledge after your cousin’s wedding?”
“Very well, Mr. Downing, but don’t blame me if you’re mistaken for a stable boy and asked to move buggies to the back alley.”
“To see you wearing one of those outrageous hooped gowns, Mrs. Downing, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. How is Madeline Howard victimized by both armies when the war comes to Cashtown, Pennsylvania?
2. Why does Richmond, Virginia—the capital of the Confederacy—seem like Madeline’s only alternative when forced to relocate?
3. How does Eugenia’s upbringing and home life differ from what Madeline experienced?
4. Elliott Haywood has a position of responsibility and authority in the Confederacy. Why does he assume the best about Madeline’s integrity throughout the story?