Jordan's War - 1861

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Jordan's War - 1861 Page 19

by B. K. Birch


  “That’s near our old house,” Gunner said.

  Jim put his fingers to his lips and held Gunner close to him.

  “Are they that far north?” Jordan asked.

  “The Federal Army is,” Pa said.

  “Oh Lord have mercy!” Ma shouted and slapped her hand on the table.

  Grandma chuckled and put her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. It didn’t matter as the fit got the best of her and she cackled the creepy laugh that always scared Jordan.

  “Wait until Reverend Summey hears about this,” she laughed.

  “This is not funny!” Ma snapped at her.

  Pa pulled a wrinkled piece of paper out of his pocket.

  “He’s in Company One,” Pa said and tossed the paper on the table. “They look like a sturdy lot of men. They ain’t seen no fighting yet or so they said.”

  “We can all write to him,” Pa said. “I promised him we would. I can take letters to Marlins Bottom twice a month or so.”

  Ma stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt.

  “We tell no one,” Ma said. “Is that clear?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Jordan said in unison with the others.

  “Best get back to work,” Pa said. “Ain’t nothing more we can do about it.”

  Jordan stayed behind to finish his breakfast while the others headed back to the field and stared at his plate. He couldn’t believe it. Eamon was a Federal soldier. He shut his eyes and tried to recall Eamon the night of the escape. Darkness and a fleeting glance of Eamon’s bruised and bloodied face was the only image he could recall.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and write your letter now,” Grandma said and laid a piece of milky white paper, the steel nub pen, and the ink well in front of him.

  He’d always been reprimanded whenever he touched the pen, but now it was in front of him along with a blank piece of paper to do whatever he wanted. A lump rose in his throat at the thought of writing to Eamon. Would he ever see his older brother again? He wanted to believe he would. He picked up the pen and tapped it on the table for at least ten minutes before he wrote the first word.

  Eamon:

  I hope this letter finds you well. We’re all fine here but we took it pretty hard when Pa gave us the news. I guess it is for the best. The corn and potatoes are growing bigger every day and the blooms on the beans have already blown away.

  I’m glad you only had to ride to Beverly to meet up with them and not all the way to Fairmont like we did before. Maybe you’ll see Ester again.

  Sergeant Hummel came by looking for you the day after you escaped but we didn’t tell him nothing. He was mighty curious of Henry’s hurt shoulder though. Henry will be fine, but he smells a might ripe from Grandma’s herbs.

  Sergeant Hummel has one of his men standing guard at the end of the road and they’ll soon pay us a visit.

  I’m sure Grandma will be the first to know if something happens to you. I don’t like you leaving. Now I’ll have to do your work and mine. It might be better for you though. Grandma told Sergeant Hummel that there was a sickness in the food so be careful what you eat. Maybe you should just kill your own to be on the safe side.

  Keep your head down and we’ll have to pray for you without Reverend Summey. You’re on the wrong side now.

  Your brother,

  Jordan Sinclair

  I had to write this after Willow read my letter to check to see if I did my spelling right.

  Me and Jim found Sissy Mae over at Uncle Tate’s place. She shot at us but the gun had such a kick to it that it knocked her backwards into the wall. Jim and me ran off and Willow was plenty mad when Reverend Summey came calling that evening to pray for Henry and Manny wasn’t with him. He had to go and see about Sissy Mae. She still don’t know we ran off and left her lying there.

  Willow did look pretty in the new dress she made, but I was too scared to tell her.

  Jordan sat on the porch and watched the night’s first stars emerge in the fading blue sky and wondered if Eamon could see them too.

  The only sounds were the crickets and Grandma’s rocking chair squeaking out a lonely droning rhythm. Even though he was surrounded by family, he felt alone. There was no chatter and no music or song. He held his knees to his chest as if somehow it would fill the emptiness that ached in his heart.

  “Someone’s coming,” Jake said and pointed at a shadowed figure approaching the house.

  Selie jumped up and ran for Ma’s lap. Jordan got up and took her into the house.

  “You go too,” Ma said to Jake and Gunner.

  “What about Jordan and Henry?” Jake asked.

  “They can stay,” Pa said.

  The boys scurried into the house just as the light covered the visitor’s face. It was Sergeant Hummel.

  “Evening,” he said and tipped his hat.

  “Evening,” Pa said.

  “I want to thank you for the medicine,” he said to Grandma. “It’s healing real good and there ain’t no infection.”

  “You’re welcome,” Grandma said.

  “Is your grandson back yet?” he asked.

  “I have one sitting right here and one in the house,” she replied. “But ain’t none of them the one you’re looking for.”

  “I figured that. Just so you know the man at the road is heading back to Lewisburg,” he said and looked at Pa. “I know you rode north with the boy. I know you rode south without him. I hope I don’t see him back around here because I’ll have to arrest him.”

  “Thank you for the visit,” Pa said.

  Sergeant Hummel turned and rode off into the darkness.

  Jordan stared out over the horizon and wondered if Eamon was doing the same where ever he was.

  Anger and sadness rushed through his body with such fury he found himself shivering even though it was still warm outside.

  Ever since Pa told them the news about Eamon he felt as though a piece of him went missing and there was nothing he could do to get it back. Too many strangers had control of his life – telling him what to do, where he could go, where he couldn’t go, what he could say and what he needed to keep to himself.

  There was nothing anyone could do but wait. Would it end soon like Reverend Summey and Uncle Tate said? Or would it last for years?

  “Supper’s ready!” Willow called out from inside the house.

  Well, at least some things never change.

  About the Author

  Brenda grew up in the Appalachian Mountains and after college, she and her husband moved south.

  In addition to HOUSE OF DESPICABLE BEAUTY and the JORDAN'S WAR trilogy, her work has been featured in Solander Magazine - The Magazine of the Historical Novel Society, Wildchild Publishing with two Editor's Choice Award wins, Charlotte Parent Magazine, Ranfurly Review, Copperfield Review, Penwomanship, Bygone Days, Mid-South Review and Emerging Women Writers. Her poetry has been published extensively in the U.S. and abroad and she has written book reviews for Midwest Book Review.

  She resides in Charlotte, North Carolina with her husband, four kids, one dog, and three kitties.

  Also Available

  Jordan’s War Trilogy e-book

  Jordan’s War Trilogy - paperback

  House of Despicable Beauty – e-book

  House of Despicable Beauty - paperback

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 2
5

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  About the Author

 

 

 


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