It was not an eloquent letter; it was brief and factual, written on the back of an old procurement order. But it was signed “With all my love, Brent,” and those few little words warmed her heart and gave her strength.
And yet, something about the letter nagged at her, and she didn’t realize what it was until several weeks later when she discovered another familiar face in the Richmond hospital.
Stooping to pour water for a feverish private, Kendall felt a tug on her skirt from behind. Sweeping a stray lock of hair from her forehead, she turned to see a strangely familiar countenance. The soldier’s face was dirty, and his beard had grown thick and bushy. But when she met a pair of delighted hazel eyes, she realized she was staring at her brother-in-law.
“Gene! Gene McIntosh! Oh, my Lord, how are you? How stupid of me! You’re lying in a hospital and—”
“And I’m going to be fine, Kendall. Caught a ball in my shoulder last week from a Yankee picket when I was out scouting, that’s all. They were able to remove it clean. I’ll be heading back out in a day or so. Kendall, we’ve worried about you now for years. Lolly never writes that she doesn’t mention how she prays that you’re all right.”
Kendall lowered her lashes and bit her lip. “Oh, Gene! I should have written to Mother and Lolly, but I’m still afraid of what my stepfather is capable of conniving.”
“Kendall,” Gene interrupted her, seemingly surprised, “your stepfather is dead.”
“He was killed in the war?” Kendall queried with amazement.
“No,” Gene chuckled. “Mean George choked to death trying to eat up all his beef before our own army could ask him for it.”
Kendall knew she shouldn’t take pleasure in hearing of a man’s death. But she couldn’t help being glad that there did seem to be some justice in the world.
“How are Lolly and my mother?” Kendall asked. “Have you seen them?”
“Had a furlough night before Christmas time,” Gene told her. “You don’t even know you’re an aunt, do you, Kendall? Lolly and I had a baby girl—born last summer. She’s pretty as a picture, Kendall. Eyes as blue as the sky, and hair so gold it looks like sunlight.”
“How wonderful, Gene! I’m an aunt! And Lolly and the baby and Mother—they’re all doing well?”
“Right as rain, Kendall. I get a little anxious about them sometimes; they say the Yanks will rip up South Carolina if they get in there, on accounta them thinkin’ it was us who caused the war.”
“Oh, my God—”
“Now don’t fret, Kendall. I shouldn’t have said that. We’ve got the best damn soldiers and generals in the world. The Yanks will never get to Charleston.”
Yes, they will, Kendall thought, but she didn’t press her opinion on Gene.
“Kendall, why don’t you go home and see them?”
Gene’s question made her realize what had bothered her about Brent’s letter. Family. He loved her, but he was still beholden to his brother and sister . . . and she hadn’t seen her own mother since the day Charleston seceded from the Union.
“Gene, I will. It will have to be a quick trip, but I am going back.” She gave her brother-in-law a quick kiss on the forehead and spun around, determined to speak with the chief surgeon right away. But she turned back first. “Gene, are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
“I’m positive,” Gene assured her, smiling broadly.
* * *
The news of Gene’s death reached Lolly in Charleston on the afternoon of Kendall’s arrival.
The sisters had enjoyed two hours of an ecstatically happy reunion. Then a soldier had come to the door with a letter from Gene’s commanding officer. He had died of an infection following surgery.
Kendall was more than ever glad that she had come. Lolly had grown stronger with the war, but her marriage had been a true love match, and a part of Lolly died that day. Kendall was glad to be there to hold her, to help her past the initial bitter pain and trauma.
She had dreamed of spending days chatting with her sister, laughing and chuckling over the antics of her lovely little niece.
Instead Kendall was left to plan a wake and hold Lolly’s slender, sobbing form as Gene was laid to rest in the family plot with full military honors.
Her mother was bedridden with a bad cold.
But at least she was able to hug and kiss her despite the maternal chastisements that she would make herself sick. “I don’t care if I’m sick for a month, Mother! It will be worth it to have kissed you.”
Her mother cried and held her. It had been so long since she had seen her elder daughter.
“Mother scares me,” Lolly admitted to Kendall quite frankly, trying to dry her tears long enough to nurse the baby girl who would never know her father. “She catches these colds so frequently. She has no strength, and I feel as if I’m about to break half the time myself. And I just can’t handle both plantations. Kendall, can’t you stay here? Cresthaven will be yours, you know.”
“No, Lolly,” Kendall said sorrowfully in response to her sister’s plea. “I have to get back to Richmond. But I’m going to find a nurse for Mother, and I’ll hire some good people to help you.”
“Who?” Lolly demanded bitterly. “All of the good men are in the army.”
“Some are already home,” Kendall said assuredly.
In the week that followed, she found a free black woman who had a wonderful way with her mother and two good men, men she trusted, to take over as foremen for the plantations. Lolly seemed skeptical when she realized that Kendall had hired amputees sent home from the army, but then she had listlessly shrugged. Kendall knew she couldn’t expect her sister’s spirit to heal for a long time.
Despite the men she had hired, Kendall spoke truthfully to Lolly before she left. “Lolly, Charleston won’t be safe if—”
“If the Yankees win the war?” Lolly asked dryly.
“Yes,” Kendall said softly.
“What do you suggest?” Lolly inquired tonelessly.
“I’m not sure yet, but I think I know a place where there will be few repercussions. I’ll let you know soon.”
Kendall broke off as she saw her sister’s dry smile. “Kendall, we haven’t heard from you since the war started. When you say soon—”
“That’s not fair! I couldn’t come to Charleston, and you know it.”
“You could have written to me. Kendall, do you resent the fact that you were sold to John Moore instead of me?”
“No!” Kendall exclaimed, horrified. She vehemently shook her head. “Lolly, I never resented you in any way. I was older, and I was the stronger. Our stepfather thought I would fetch a higher price.”
Lolly laughed, and the radiance of her blond beauty glowed for a moment despite the recent tragedy. “Kendall, I’m still not strong. I’m worn out I could not have begun to endure the tragedies you’ve lived through—marriage to John, the prison camp, running all over the country. I’m just dyin’ to meet your Captain McClain. Why, the two of you have been the talk of the war!”
“There will be no ‘two of us’ if I don’t get back to Richmond,” Kendall murmured.
Kendall’s mother cried when it was time for her to leave, but she believed her older daughter would take care of them, come back for them when it was time to move. She was too weak to leave her bed, and so it was Lolly to whom Kendall said her final goodbyes.
And Kendall and Lolly, finding that the war had created a stronger bond between them, hugged each other tightly. Then Kendall kissed the baby, marveling again at the perfect new life, and tried to murmur her farewell cheerfully.
“Kendall,” Lolly said softly.
“Yes?”
“It’s ironic, isn’t it, that Gene should die—and not John.”
“Yes, it is ironic. Lolly, I will see you soon,” Kendall added.
Lolly smiled and waved.
* * *
Kendall’s mind was so full of her family that she thought of little else as she took the train back to Rich
mond. She barely noticed that nervous soldiers hovered at various points along the way.
Despite her pessimism regarding the war, she didn’t realize that anything was amiss until she returned to the inn and discovered that Varina Davis had been trying to contact her. She freshened up and rushed to see the First Lady of the Confederacy.
Kendall was greeted by a black butler, who led her to Varina’s music room. She sipped mint tea as she waited.
“Oh, Kendall, dear!” Varina said as she swept into the room. Her voice, as always, was soft and well modulated. But then, Varina’s voice would be soft and cultured whether she was saying that it was a delightful day or that the Yankees had just taken Richmond. She was a truly beautiful woman in every sense of the word, gracious and courteous and kind and completely dignified.
“What’s wrong, Varina?” Kendall asked.
Varina didn’t answer right away. She smiled and walked over to Kendall, her crinoline rustling beneath the bell of her pearl silk morning dress. “First of all, my dear, I’m leaving the city again. That terrible General Grant is closing in on us. And I do have something to tell you that I’m afraid will cause you pain. Captain McClain was here in your absence. He was hoping to find you and to pick up his ship, but Lieutenant McPherson hasn’t returned with her yet. He was sent to London again. Oh, if the British would just step in and offer us their support! But that’s neither here nor there. Captain McClain has gone back to join his brother’s unit, and I think it might be best if you were to leave Richmond with me.”
“Oh, no!” Kendall interrupted at last, feeling the blood drain from her features, leaving them as pale as the snow. “Oh, no! Brent was here, and I wasn’t—”
“It’s quite all right, dear. He went to the hospital and learned that you had gone to see your family—”
Varina broke off as Kendall hopped to her feet. “You don’t understand! I promised that I would be here.”
“Kendall, we’re in the middle of a war. I’m sure the captain understands.”
Kendall shook her head vigorously. “I have to find him. Do you know where he went?”
“North along the pike to join General Lee’s army. You can’t go after him, Kendall. The countryside is crawling with the enemy.”
“I have to go! I have to! Please, Varina! If you can help me, do so. One way or another, I must catch up with him!”
Varina sighed. “President Davis would be most displeased! But all right, I’ll find out when the next messenger is leaving and arrange for you to go along. But, Kendall, you’ll have to travel rough roads quickly; it’s imperative that all letters from my husband reach General Lee as soon as possible.”
“Believe me, Mrs. Davis, I am well acquainted with rough roads and hazardous travel!”
* * *
Kendall and Captain Melbourne—the messenger entrusted with carrying letters between the South’s president and its leading general—reached the army camp in two days. Kendall was struck again by the ragged appearance of the starving men.
But the appearance of the men was not her major concern at the moment. Her heart had been pounding for the entire journey; she had been living with fear and dread.
Brent had told her to stay in Richmond, and whether his ultimatum had been fair or not, her promise to him seemed to make her absence a betrayal. And their time together was always so brief . . . and so precious. She wanted to see him so badly, but she was afraid of his reaction to seeing her. She practiced the words she would say to him over and over as Captain Melbourne delivered her to the cavalry . . .
She saw Brent first. He was leaning against a grazing roan, sipping coffee from a tin and listening to the conversation around him. His gray eyes seemed intense as a low murmured comment passed. Then he laughed and the hint of a grin curled his lips.
He looked far different from when she had seen him last. His beard and mustache were neatly clipped. His hair curled over his collar, but the cut was neat and fashionable. His coat was as tattered as those of the men about him, but somehow he was the perfect picture of the southern officer, masculine and correct, arrogant and gallant.
She wanted to call him; his name formed on her lips, but she couldn’t say it. Suddenly a whistle sounded. One of the men had seen her and expressed his surprise and wistful admiration.
Brent’s gray eyes turned to her and widened in amazement. Her heart seemed to cease its beat as she waited for his reaction. Anger, dismissal, denial . . .
But he smiled, and she feared she would pass out with the sheer joy of relief. He came to her, long strides eating the distance between them, and then she felt the thrill of his arms about her, his powerful fingers in her hair. His arms crushed her to him. And then, before all his comrades, he kissed her, lovingly, passionately, tenderly. Tears sprang to her eyes with the sweet caress of his mouth, with the scent and feel of him. For long moments she forgot the war, forgot the world, as the earth and sky spun about her.
But then he was whispering to her, his words confused, his tone an anguished demand.
“Kendall . . . what are you doing here?”
“I . . . I had to see you, I promised to be in Richmond—”
“Kendall, we’re about to encounter all of Grant’s army!”
“But I—”
“Wait!” Brent murmured, holding her hands but drawing away from her. A brilliant twinkle of fire burned in the hazy gray depths of his eyes as he indicated the audience of cheering Rebs behind them. “I think we need to find a bit of privacy.”
Someone cleared his throat, then laughed. “There’s a little tavern not far from here, brother. I hardly think this camp is the place for a lady.”
Kendall turned to the speaker. “Stirling!” she exclaimed, joyously hugging him. He swept her around in a circle and ignored his scowling brother. “Kendall, you look lovely! All these poor soldiers must think they’ve seen an angel! But this isn’t a safe place for you. Brent”—he turned to his brother—“you’ve got to get her out of here.”
“I know. But—”
“I’ll clear you through Stuart. Hell, Brent, you’re navy. You don’t have to be here at all.”
“I’ll be back at dawn,” Brent promised. Then he saw that the entire regiment was staring at the three of them. He raised Kendall’s slender hand in his. “Kendall, meet the boys of the Second Florida Cavalry. Boys, meet Kendall Moore. Say hello and goodbye quickly, darlin’.”
Kendall blushed as the men cheered—but she wasn’t embarrassed for long, because she found herself swept up on Brent’s roan in front of him. He turned the horse and started out of the encampment at a brisk trot. They were challenged several times, but Brent informed the pickets that he was escorting a lady to safety, and they were allowed to go on.
They didn’t speak until they reached a run-down tavern. After tethering the roan, Brent swung her down and led her inside, holding her hand firmly while he procured the only available room from the harried innkeeper, who immediately noted Brent’s uniform and demanded to know what was going on at the camp.
Brent didn’t lie. “Battle will rage soon, sir. And, yes, it will be nearby.”
“You’re not a deserter, are you, Captain?”
“No, sir, I’m just spending a few hours with my . . . wife. Then I’ll return to the front.” And then, at last, they were inside the shabby room. Brent looked about dryly, then shrugged and pulled her into his arms.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do any better.”
Kendall smiled. “If you’ll recall, sir, I’ve spent many a night in a cave. This will do right nicely—as long as you’re with me.”
“I’m with you,” he murmured huskily.
“Brent,” Kendall began, “I’m sorry I wasn’t in Richmond. I gave you my promise—but I wasn’t expecting you and—”
“Tell me later, Kendall . . . much, much . . . later.” His words were interspersed with the moist and heated touch of his lips on hers, on her throat, the lobe of her ear, and the nape of her neck. Brushfires
of longing swept through her in wave after shuddering wave, and she clung to him, arching her throat to meet his steel-gray eyes with a brilliant blue shimmer in her own.
“Later,” she agreed, “much later . . .”
And it was a long while later, when the sun had set and the moon had begun to rise, that they nestled together in satiated contentment and began to talk.
Brent had one elbow crooked beneath his head as he stared up at the ceiling. His other arm was around Kendall. His fingers idly smoothed her hair as she rested her cheek against the dampness of his bare chest.
“Kendall, I wasn’t angry. I’m glad to see you, but I wish you hadn’t come. This place is going to come alive tomorrow. Lee’s planning to meet Grant in the Wilderness, hoping to take advantage of the forest terrain. We’re outnumbered atrociously.”
Kendall ran her fingers over his chest. “Brent, you don’t have to be here. Please don’t fight in this battle. I’m frightened.”
He was silent for a moment. “Kendall, I’ve wanted to throttle you half a dozen times, at least, but in the last few months I’ve had time to think about things. In a way, I have been unfair. I love you, Kendall—truly love you—and I’ve tried to understand you. I can’t stop loving you, Kendall. The war and time and distance can’t change my heart. Yet I know you can’t be broken. I only hope you can be tamed. A bit, at any rate. Kendall, I have to fight this battle. The Confederacy needs every man it can get.”
Kendall fought back tears, but her voice was taut with choked sobs when she spoke. “I don’t understand you, Brent. There’s no reason—”
He interrupted softly, “There’s every reason, Kendall. There’s the South, there’s you, there’s me—there’s us.”
“The South is doomed, Brent.”
“Don’t say that, Kendall,” he snapped harshly.
“It’s true, and you know it, Brent. You knew it the night we met, the night South Carolina seceded from the Union. I was the one with the dreams back then.”
“Kendall, I don’t know anything, except that I’ve got to fight tomorrow. All we really have, Kendall, is fighting spirit—and tenacity.” Suddenly he shifted, bringing his weight over hers and locking her fingers with his own against the bed as he hovered over her. “Kendall, we can’t always know right from wrong because the world isn’t black and white. There are always shades of gray in between. We can only do what we feel to be right. You’re a married woman, Kendall, but the love we share is right—no matter where it takes us. And back in Kentucky, when we fought over that old woman, the consequences of your actions might have made them very wrong. But you did what you felt was right, Kendall. I think I can understand that now. Ah, Kendall . . . you’ll always be a pain in the neck.”
Tomorrow the Glory Page 37