Suddenly she spoke. “Let’s walk for a while,” she said, and as they moved across the thawing ground, she struggled to put her feelings into words. “Things are so—so fragile!” The word didn’t seem right, and she shook her head impatiently. “That doesn’t make any sense, I know, but I’ve been so confused lately.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She looked at him with surprise, then said, “I thought I was keeping it to myself. I guess we all feel the pressure of the war. I’m afraid for Daddy and Grant—and now you’ll be going to fight. I try to think that it’ll be all right, but every day we get news that one of the boys we grew up with has been killed—like Bobby Felton. Remember how nice he was?”
“Fine fellow.” Jake nodded.
“Now he’s dead. Killed in a meaningless battle in Kentucky.” Her lips drew tightly together, and she walked along silently, then said, “I saw Jenny Prescott last week. She and Bobby were engaged. Now he’s dead and she’s lost him. And his mother—you know how she doted on Bobby! She’s a broken woman.”
A cloud of blackbirds rose, filling the skies, and their raucous cries drifted back to the two people walking side by side. “I always hated blackbirds,” Rachel said suddenly. “They remind me of darkness, of bad news.” Then she shook her head, going back to her thoughts. “Last night I had an awful nightmare. I was all dressed in white, in a wedding gown. All the people were there, and I was coming down the aisle. I could see Rev. Irons there waiting to marry me—but I couldn’t see the groom, not his face anyway.” She gave a sudden shiver and fell silent.
Strangely disturbed, Jake asked, “Was that all of it?”
“No. I got to the front of the church, and the man I was marrying turned around—and he was dead!” Rachel stopped, her head lowered and her voice a whisper. “He—didn’t have a face. Just a skull. And I woke up screaming. I’ve never done that before!”
“It was just a bad dream, Rachel.”
She gave her shoulders a shake, as if to throw off the memory, then turned to him. “I know, but it’s happening all around us. The best of our young men are going off, the most courageous boys, those who really love the South. What’s going to happen when they die? Who’ll take their place?”
Jake saw that she was terribly disturbed, and he spoke in a soothing voice. “Best not to think of those things, Rachel.”
“How can you not think of them?” she demanded. “When I look at Daddy or Grant—or at you—I can’t help but think you could die.” She paused again, then asked, “Don’t you ever think about it? About Daddy and Grant and all our friends?”
“Yes, I think of it. I think of myself, too. A man’s a fool who doesn’t think of that.” He had not intended to speak of it, but said, “What General Jackson said was true. It hit me like a bullet, Rachel!”
“Vince—do you believe in God?”
“Yes. But that’s not enough, is it? I’ve seen some pretty sorry specimens who claimed to be Christians. Guess that’s what I’ve been hiding behind for a long time. But then, I’ve also seen the real thing. Mother and Jeremiah Irons—and you, of course.”
“More than anything in the world, I want you to find peace with God. You have so much to live for!”
Jake stopped and gave her a strange look, but said only, “You really mean that, don’t you? Well, I’m a hard case. Never did have much use for people who used religion as a trade with God. ‘If you’ll do this for me, God, then I’ll do something for You.’” He shook his head, a faint sadness in his eyes. “I can’t seem to do that, Rachel.”
She said only, “I’m glad you can’t. Any religion that worked like that wouldn’t hold up. Real faith is like the sermon Brother Irons preached at the camp meeting—Jesus asks for all we are, especially whatever it is we love most.”
He turned to face her, started to speak, then changed his mind and fell silent. Finally he said, “We’d better get back.”
When they arrived at the house, Rachel said, “Look, there’s the gelding Brother Irons rides.”
“Came to visit Mother, I guess.”
When they entered the house, they found Irons talking to Amy in the parlor. He rose and greeted them, and Jake would have left but was detained when Irons said, “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, Vince.”
Amy rose, saying, “Come along, Rachel. We’ll make some coffee.”
When the two women had left, Irons said, “Vince, I’ve got to go to Fort Donelson.” He seemed unhappy but shook it off, saying, “My brother is there with the army. I just got word that he’s very ill, critically maybe.”
“Fort Donelson? Where’s that?”
“In Tennessee, way up in the northern part, almost in Kentucky. Fort Henry is on the Tennessee River, and Fort Donelson is just a few miles away on the Cumberland River.” Irons shook his head, his mouth drawn up tight. “If the Federals take those two forts, they can use the rivers and pin us down.”
“I’ve heard my father say so.”
“Well, I’ve got to go. Baxter is my younger brother, and he may be dying. I’m leaving as soon as I can—probably tomorrow.”
“I hope he makes it, Chaplain.”
“I pray so, but that’s not why I wanted to talk to you. You’ve made up your mind to join the army, and I thought this might be an opportunity for you.”
Jake stared at him. “Me, Chaplain?”
Irons seemed reluctant and said, “Well, I’m probably out of line, but it occurred to me you might like to go with a troop of cavalry that’s being raised to go to the defense of Donelson. Jeb Stuart’s sending an officer and a few men. Everybody knows that General Johnston’s spread thin, so there’s an attempt to send reinforcements. Melora told me you had decided against the infantry because of your leg. All you’d have to have to join the Sixth is a horse.”
Jake stood there thinking—and the more he thought of it, the better it sounded. He had come to realize that joining the war was not just something he was doing for Vince, or to fulfill Brad’s requirements—he wanted to join because he felt it was the right thing for any Southern man to do. “I’d really like to go, Chaplain. But would they take me?”
“Like a shot!” Irons said with a grim smile. “They need every man they can get. The enlistment is for ninety days, so when that’s over, you might want to join the Grays—or perhaps stay in Stuart’s cavalry.”
Jake made up his mind on the spot. “I’ll do it. How do I sign up?”
“The troop will leave day after tomorrow. I’ll go along, so we’ll be together. Captain Wainwright will be in command of the troop. I’ll tell him about you, and I know he’ll be glad to have you. Bring a rifle and a sidearm. I don’t think there’s much in the way of arms.”
Jake nodded. “I’ll be ready. Where should I report?”
“Be at the camp tomorrow at eight.” Irons rose to go, then paused to say, “Well, that was the easy thing. Now I’ve got to go tell Melora we’ll have to put the wedding off until I’ve taken care of my brother.”
“That’s tough on both of you, Chaplain.”
“Can’t be helped.” When Irons nodded and left the room, Jake went to find Amy and Rachel, who were just getting the coffee ready. “The preacher is gone,” he said; then he hesitated. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
Rachel gasped, “The army?”
“Yes. I’ll be going with a troop of cavalry to Tennessee.”
Amy said, “I know you think this is something you have to do, Vince—but be sure it’s right. Your father and I don’t agree on this thing. You’ve proven yourself by riding the stallion and facing Duvall down.”
Jake said, “I guess I’ll have to go.” He wanted to explain but knew that he never would. Amy turned suddenly and left the room, and Rachel went over to stare out the window. There was a rigidity in her back, and Jake felt she was angry for some reason. “Rachel, don’t be angry,” he said, going to stand beside her.
She turned to face him, and he saw that tears had gathered in her eyes. The sight
of her tears hit him hard, almost as if someone had struck him in the pit of the stomach. From his earliest memories, Jake Hardin could not recall anyone shedding a tear over him. Then another thought hit him even harder than the sight of her tears: Rachel was not crying for him, but for the man she thought he was. And this was a bitter thing to him.
Her voice was husky, tightly controlled, as she said, “I—wish you didn’t have to go! I’m afraid!” She reached out, touching his cheek gently, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I know I ought to smile and talk about how glorious it is for you to serve in the army—but I just can’t!” Without another word, she abruptly whirled and ran blindly out of the room, leaving him standing there. She ran up to her room, threw herself on the bed, and wept. She didn’t understand what was happening inside her. All she knew was that there was a dull, hollow dread in her—a void such as she had never known and that wasn’t going away. After some time, she rose, washed her face, and sat down in the rocker beside her bed. For a long time she sat there, staring out the window. And then she closed her eyes and began to rock.
“Melora, I’ll be back soon,” Irons said. “If my brother is able to be moved, I intend to bring him back with me to Richmond.”
“I hope so, Jeremiah. I could help you nurse him.”
The pair was standing in front of Melora’s house. It was late in the afternoon, and they had just come back from a long walk down the lane. He had told her of his brother, and she had listened quietly. Finally, when he finished, she smiled at him and said, “That’s like you, Jeremiah. You couldn’t do anything else—being the man you are.”
They had reached the house, and he had said, “I’ve got to go, but oh, I hate it so!”
Melora said, “I’ll be here when you come back, Jeremiah.”
Irons smiled and put his arms around her. “I’m the luckiest man in the world! You’ve made me so happy, Melora!” He kissed her then, and she responded. He drew back, smiled, and said, “You go right on planning the wedding. The day after I get back—that’s the day we get married!”
“All right.” She smiled, and there was a softness in her eyes as she said quickly, “We’ll have a short honeymoon, I suppose, since you’re in the army.”
A boyish smile lifted the corner of Irons’s lips, and he suddenly grabbed her around the waist, lifted her, and spun her around. When he put her down, he said, “We’ll have a honeymoon for the next thirty or forty years, Melora Yancy! I promise you that.” Then he kissed her again, turned, and mounted his gelding. He was still smiling, and there was a happiness in his fine brown eyes such as she’d never seen. “Good-bye, my dear! I’ll be back soon—and you must get ready for that long, long honeymoon!”
He wheeled the horse, touched its sides with his spurs, and sent it galloping down the road. Melora stood and watched him, and just before he went out of sight, she saw him turn, pull his hat off, and wave it. He called out, his voice coming to her thin and clear: “A long honeymoon, Melora!”
And then he was gone, hidden by the line of straight, dead trees that reached up with lifeless fingers that seemed to be reaching to heaven.
CHAPTER 20
A LATE VISITOR
Take had always been a light sleeper, able to awaken with all his faculties sharp, and the sound of footsteps coming toward his room woke him instantly. He lay there listening, expecting them to continue down the hallway, but when they stopped and a faint tapping came at his door, he was out of the bed at once. The room was illuminated by silver moonlight flooding in through the window as he went to the door quickly and opened it. He half expected to see Tad, for one of the mares was due to foal at any moment, and he’d told the slave to come for him when it was time.
The hallway was dark, and the figure seemed too bulky to be the slave. “Tad?” Jake asked, but then the man pushed himself forward, shoving Jake backward. Jake reacted instinctively, grabbing the coat of the intruder and swinging him around.
“Easy, Jake! It’s me—Vince!”
Jake had drawn his fist back to drive a blow at the intruder, but halted abruptly. Keeping his grip on the rough coat, he leaned closer, trying to see the features of the man, but it was too dark.
“Light the lamp,” Vince ordered and stood there as Jake got a match and did so. When Jake turned around, shock widened his eyes, and Vince said, “It’s me, Jake. Look like something the cat dragged in, don’t I?”
Vince walked over and sat down in the rocker beside the window. Jake was shocked at his appearance, for he had lost so much weight that his clothing hung on him. Vince had always kept his beard trimmed neatly, but now it was bushy and ragged, hiding most of his face. The broad-brimmed slouch hat he wore shaded his eyes, and when he took it off, Jake saw that Vince’s eyes were sunken and his cheeks had lost their fullness.
“What’s going on, Vince?”
Vince looked at him carefully, then said, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but here’s the story.”
Jake listened as Vince spoke, and his eyes narrowed as he heard how Vince had gone to Savannah to hire a man to kill Ellen. He said nothing, but his eyes were hard. Vince did not try to excuse himself but went on with the narrative.
“I got off the train at Savannah and keeled right over. Woke up in a hospital. I was so sick it was like a dream. Guess I never did really come out of it, not for a few days, anyway. When I did finally come around enough to know where I was, there was a man in the same room on a cot just across from me. He was dying, Jake, and I’ve never seen a more bitter man!” Vince’s eyes hardened at the memory, and he waited for a moment before going on. “He cursed me, he cursed the doctors, and he cursed God! Then he told me I was going to die, too.”
Jake studied Vince, then asked, “Did you believe him?”
“Yes!” Vince nodded emphatically. “And it was bad, Jake. There I was, in town to hire a killer—and dying alone in a room next to a crazy man!”
“What happened?”
“The fellow died. Went out cursing God. When they took his body out, I was alone, still sicker than I’d ever been. Then I started flickering out, Jake. My mind was gone, and all I had was crazy dreams …. Then something happened—I got scared!” At the memory, Vince took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow, his hands trembling slightly. When he put the handkerchief away, though, he managed a smile. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it was the best he could do.
“I was there for a week, thinking every day that I was going to die. And finally all I could think of was … what a mess I’d made of everything! I thought I could handle anything—but I found out different.”
Jake saw there was something in Vince’s face that hadn’t been there before and asked, “What happened?”
“I don’t really know, Jake. I hit bottom—and when I did, I made myself one promise: If I lived, I’d do things differently. And then I prayed. Felt like a fool! Jake, I don’t think I ever prayed in my life, but when a man’s staring into his own grave, it makes him do strange things!”
“You found God?” Jake asked.
“N–no, I can’t say that I did.” Vince bit his lower lip, seeming to have trouble with his words. Finally he said, “It was like God was giving me some time, Jake. And I guess that’s what I’m doing here. Sooner or later, I’ll have to decide about God—but the time hasn’t come just yet.”
His words startled Jake, for they were what he had said of his own condition. He smiled grimly, shaking his head. “So you came back home?”
“Yes! I had plenty of money, but I had to stay a week in a boardinghouse to get my strength back enough to make the trip.”
Jake stared at Vince, doubt in his face as plain as if it were a printed sheet. “I don’t believe you. You’re up to something tricky. What have you got up your sleeve now?”
Vince shook his head. “Nothing, Jake. I got all the trick shook out of me in that hospital. I walked out of there weak as a sick cat. I’m stronger now, but I’m out to win or lose.” Vince’s face was set,
and suddenly Jake knew he was telling the truth. “I don’t know how to work it out, Jake, but I’m letting you off the hook. You’ve done your job—more than I ever should have asked of anyone. You’ve faced down Crow and Duvall for me …. I wish I could have done that myself ….” His voice trailed off for a moment, then a fresh determination settled on Vince’s face. “At any rate, now the rest is mine. And if I make it—get the money, that is—you’ll sure get your share.”
Jake asked curiously, “What about the army? That’s the last of the requirements your father laid down before he’d let you inherit the estate.”
Vince shook his head, fatigue drawing his mouth downward. He rubbed his forehead wearily, saying, “I dunno, Jake. Guess I’ll join up with the Grays.”
“That won’t work. In the first place, we may have looked alike once, but you’ve lost weight and I’ve gained. You show up for breakfast in the morning, and it’ll be all over. In the second place, even if that didn’t happen, you’d never make it with an infantry company.”
Vince stared at him, but his lips drew together stubbornly. “I don’t know how to do it any differently. Maybe I could leave a note saying I’m leaving to join up with an outfit someplace else.”
Jake thought quickly, then said, “Listen, Vince—” and rapidly told him of the plan to send a troop of cavalry to Tennessee, including his own intention of going along. “You go away and stay hid out,” he ended. “I’ll put in the three months; then you’ll be able to come back and I’ll fade away.”
Vince stared at him for a long moment, then laughed ruefully. “I really have changed, Jake,” he said. “If I hadn’t, I’d take you up on that like a shot! But I won’t let you do it. I’ll leave here now and catch up with that troop someplace between here and Tennessee. That way nobody here will see me. You skedaddle out of here, Jake.”
Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells Page 91