She turned to wash her greens when movement down the lane caught her attention. The sun glinted on gold buttons and bars on a blue uniform.
‘‘Oh!’’ She looked down at her skirt, knees dirty from grubbing in the dirt. ‘‘I have to change clothes. We have company coming.’’ She dashed inside, disappeared behind the screen in the corner, and whipped off her skirt and waist. She’d hung her remaining dress on a hook, just in case, and now pulled it over her head. Her fingers shook as she fastened the buttons, while her mind told her it could be someone else coming down the road.
But her heart knew differently.
She stepped out the door as he dismounted from a horse that looked as if it could have been bred and raised at Twin Oaks. Reins over his arm, he removed his gray felt hat. The smile that carved his cheeks seemed only for her. He was more handsome than she remembered.
‘‘Miss Highwood, good day.’’
‘‘Yes, it is a fine day.’’ Her tongue adhered itself to the roof of her mouth. She knotted her shaking hands in her skirt. Say something, you ninny.
‘‘I’m sorry for all your losses.’’
Was he having as much trouble talking as she?
‘‘Yes, thank you.’’
Lucinda cleared her throat behind her. ‘‘Ah . . .’’ What could she offer him? ‘‘Would you like a drink of fresh springwater?’’
‘‘Yes, thank you.’’ A smile tugged at the side of his mouth.
‘‘Ah, good. Have a seat, please.’’
Lucinda harrumphed. ‘‘Here he come.’’ While a whisper, the shock of it sent Louisa into a panic. Why did Zachary have to see this? Why couldn’t he be sleeping off his drunk like he so often did?
‘‘Louisa, get in the house!’’ The war injuries hadn’t affected her brother’s voice. It cut like glass.
Louisa tucked her chin, forced a smile to her trembling lips, and nodded to the bench beside the house. ‘‘I’ll get that drink for you.’’
‘‘You needn’t, you know.’’
‘‘Yes, but I do.’’ She lifted the cheesecloth from the drinking bucket they kept in the shade and dipped him out a cupful, handing it to him with a steadier smile.
‘‘What are you doin’ here, you—?’’
Louisa’s ears turned hot at the name he’d used. ‘‘Forgive my brother, sir, he knows not what he does.’’
‘‘Oh, I think he does.’’ Dorsey handed the empty cup back to her. ‘‘I had to make sure you were all right.’’
‘‘We are doing the best we can.’’
‘‘Get off my land, you—’’ More epithets.
Louisa tightened her jaw and straightened her spine. ‘‘Zachary, I ask you to be polite to a guest here. Mama would—’’
‘‘Our mother is dead and gone, and I won’t have any murderin’, thievin’ bluebelly contaminatin’ this soil.’’ Zachary stumbled and caught himself. ‘‘Get out of here before I get my gun, and you’ll never leave.’’ His words slurred, and spittle flew in front of him. Unshaven, hair sticking every whichway, he looked as deranged as he acted.
‘‘Zachary Highwood, Colonel Dorsey only came to inquire as to how we are. If you can’t keep a civil tongue in your head, just return to your room until this visit is over.’’ Louisa couldn’t believe those words had come out of her own mouth.
But when Zachary raised his crutch as if to strike her, she stepped back, only to find herself staring into a blue-clad back.
‘‘You strike her, and cripple or not, I’ll see you don’t strike anyone ever again.’’
Zachary caught himself and propped his crutch firmly back under his arm. ‘‘Get off my land.’’
‘‘The war is over. I’m here to help you Southerns—’’
‘‘You’re not here to help nobody. You bled us on the battlefield, and now you’ll bleed us again.’’ Zachary took two steps forward.
Louisa stepped from behind the blue wall and looked up at the man beside her. ‘‘You had better go. As you can see, we are doing as well as can be expected.’’
‘‘May I call on you again?’’ The look in his eyes set her heart to fluttering.
‘‘No, you may not!’’ Zachary screamed the words. If he’d been a cottonmouth, he would have struck.
‘‘Yes!’’ She swallowed hard.
‘‘You lyin’ witch. You see this man again, and I’ll kill you.’’
‘‘Would he?’’
‘‘No.’’ But the uncertainty must have shown on her face.
‘‘I can get you protection in town.’’
‘‘Go with him, then. Who needs you here, anyway?’’ Zachary swayed on his feet and lurched forward. ‘‘I’ll kill you both.’’
‘‘I cannot leave you like this.’’
‘‘Just go. We’ll be all right.’’
Dorsey turned toward his horse, then back. ‘‘No, come with me now.’’
‘‘I . . . I can’t. Please, don’t ask me to.’’
‘‘This wasn’t the way I hoped to do this, but Louisa, I love you. Come with me, and we will be married in the morning.’’
Louisa felt her jaw drop. Her clasped hands flew to her throat. Her heart raced as though she’d been running for hours. ‘‘M-marry you?’’
‘‘Go with him, then. And don’t ever come back. You are dead to me. Get out!’’
Oh, Lord . . . She took one more look at her brother, nodded, and met the warm gaze of James Dorsey. ‘‘I’ll get my things.’’
‘‘You take nothin’. Just get.’’
Louisa turned to Lucinda, whose tear-tracked face wore the sorrows of forever. ‘‘Please get my Bible for me and the packet of letters.’’ She lowered her voice. ‘‘I will keep in touch.’’
They rode out the long lane with Zachary shouting imprecations after them. By the time they reached the ancient oaks, Louisa could no longer hold back the tears. Up the road a piece, James Dorsey swung his leg over the pommel and dropped to the ground, reaching up to lift Louisa into his arms. Murmuring comfort and endearments, he stroked her hair until her sobs lessened. She nestled against his chest, hearing his strong heartbeat against her ear.
‘‘You know that every man I’ve become attached to has been killed in the war?’’
‘‘No, I didn’t know that. But now that I have you, I’ll be sure to watch my back.’’
‘‘How about your front?’’ She drew back to see a water stain the size of a dinner plate on his uniform. ‘‘Good thing this is wool, so my tears won’t show.’’ She looked up to see his eyes crinkle in a smile so tender, she caught her breath. ‘‘You were really serious about loving me? That wasn’t just to chase off Zachary?’’
‘‘Oh, no, ma’am. I’ve been wanting to come find you since that day at the prison. I figured any woman who would offer to give her life for her brother’s would make a wonderful wife and mother. That you are so beautiful and sweet and caring and—’’ She laid a finger against his lips. ‘‘I believe you.’’
‘‘Do you think . . . ah, that perhaps . . . ah . . .’’
She watched red heat travel up his neck and face. ‘‘Why, Colonel, you’re blushing.’’ Her laughter tinkled like wind chimes on the breeze.
He sighed. ‘‘What I want to say is . . .’’ He paused again. ‘‘Do you think you could learn to love me?’’
‘‘Oh, I think the learning has already begun, some time ago, in fact. When your letters made my heart go pittypat, I told myself to stay away from military men, because they always get shot. Made me begin to think I was the kiss of death, not that all of them kissed me, mind you, but it’s the thought.’’ She sighed and in the sigh let go of all the fears she’d been holding in. ‘‘Could you hold me close again, sir? Your arms are indeed most comforting.’’
They were married late that afternoon by a chaplain known to Colonel Dorsey.
June 1865
Dear Sister,
I have both wonderful news and terrible news. In fact there is much to be thankfu
l for. We planted five acres of tobacco, thanks to some seed Zachary was able to find. And thanks to Jefferson and Carrie Mae, the taxes are paid. So we will be able to keep our home.
Or rather, Zachary will. I’m sorry to say that he has banished me from Twin Oaks. When Colonel Dorsey came calling, Zachary threw him off the place. And when I stood up for the man who helped save our brother’s life on that horrible trip to Washington, our dear brother, and I say this with great sorrow, threw me off the place too. James and I were married that afternoon, and now I shall accompany him west where he will be stationed at Fort Kearney, Nebraska. His orders were changed so quickly. I can’t help but believe God’s hand is directing us. How far is Fort Kearney from where you live? Is there some way we can meet together? I would so love to see your family. As I said, I am both sad and happy.
Please pray for Zachary, as he is drinking far more than is good for him, and he is so bitter that he is driving all his friends away.
Love from your married sister,
Louisa
P.S. I cannot wait for you to meet James again. He speaks so well of you, and sometimes I tease him that he married the wrong sister.Isn’t it strange the directions our lives have taken, and all because of the war.
Your loving sister,
Mrs. James Dorsey
July 1865
Dear Louisa,
I am so glad for your joy and happiness. Reading a letter from you reminds me so much of Mama that I can scarce read for the tears. At Fort Kearney you are half of Nebraska and part of Wyoming away. Should you ever be quartered at Fort Laramie, I could ride there in two days. That is how long it takes us to deliver the horses we sell to the army and to get supplies.
Things are tense here due to the battles between the army and the Indians. I pray that your colonel will be safe and not have to fight again. This war, like the other I believe, could be stopped if men would learn to sit down and talk instead of shooting off both their mouths and their guns. Wolf does what he can to help our Sioux friends and family have enough to eat and adapt to the white man’s ways. I know that God made us all equal, none better than another because of skin color or family, but all loved by our Father in heaven.
I have not received any letters from Carrie Mae since the war ended, not that she was a regular correspondent before then, either.
Thaddeus has grown so big, and Peter John, at fifteen months, follows him everywhere, on unsteady little legs. Mary Louisa is three months old and such a joy. Wolf dotes so on her. I am busy training horses when I get the chance. You would be amazed at the things I have learned about horses since I married Wolf.
We have our own little community here. Jane Ellen is married to Henry Arsdale, a fine young man she met at the fort. He joined her here on the piece she had homesteaded, so they are our neighbors to the north. Meshach and Ophelia send their love. He has pretty much taken over as our pastor and to some of the members of Red Cloud’s tribe also. I do hope and pray that we will be together one of these days. Always remember that I love you.
Jesselynn
EPILOGUE
Wyoming Territory
Spring 1867
‘‘Now, Thaddeus, you have to sit still.’’
‘‘I know. I’m tryin’.’’ Thaddeus blew the hair off his face and sneezed as some tickled his nose.
Jesselynn lifted another curl with the comb and snipped it off. Since they would soon be leaving for Cheyenne to catch the train east on their journey to Twin Oaks, she wanted him to look his best. While the letter from Zachary had demanded she bring Thaddeus back to Twin Oaks to live, she had no intention of leaving him there, not unless he really wanted to stay. She knew that would break her heart, but right was right.
‘‘The horses are ready.’’ Wolf stopped in the doorway of their stone house, built three summers before.
‘‘Thaddeus, if you keep squirming like that, it’ll be tomorrow before we leave.’’ Jesselynn ran the comb through his hair again and trimmed another spot. ‘‘There.’’ She untied the towel from around his neck. ‘‘Go outside to brush off.’’ She reached down to pick up Mary Louisa, who’d been playing with the curls of hair on the floor. Jesselynn brushed her off and kissed her freckled cheek. ‘‘Whatever will we do with you?’’ She kissed her daughter again.
‘‘Now don’t you go worryin’ about the young’uns. They’ll be fine with me.’’ Mrs. Mac swung Peter John up on her hip. ‘‘Won’t you, honey?’’ When he screwed up his round face readying to wail, she handed him a cookie. Sunshine returned.
Jesselynn had knit a sweater for Wolf and started a matching one for Peter John by the time the train pulled into Frankfort, Kentucky. What they thought would take three or four days took more than a week. They’d changed trains so many times, she’d come to the point she wasn’t sure where they were going. At times she envied Wolf and Daniel in the boxcars with the horses. Thaddeus had alternated between the horses and sitting with her. As they drew further east, he’d chosen the men and horses over the boring sitting. When the train finally screeched to a stop, they unloaded the horses, and Wolf went to find a buggy. I’d rather ride in on horseback than a buggy, Jesselyn thought, but here in civilization she had to be proper. No britches and no riding astride.
She chewed on her bottom lip. Lord, what are we heading into this time? Has that brother of mine improved any? Not according to Lucinda’s last letter, but they’d all been praying for a miracle. And miracles did still happen, did they not?
She answered that question with a smile. After all, she and Louisa had seen each other not once but twice. Surely that counted as miraculous.
A tall shadow brought her out of her reverie. She looked up to see Wolf blocking the sun. ‘‘We’re ready then?’’ she asked.
‘‘The bags are loaded.’’ He held out his arm, and when she put her hand through the crook of his elbow, he patted her hand. The smile he gave her warmed her heart and put starch in her backbone.
The nearer they drew to Twin Oaks, the more Jesselynn’s heart speeded up.
‘‘The trees are still here.’’ She pointed to the two ancient oaks that held sentinel on either side of the drive. But when they trotted the rented buggy between them, she had to shut her eyes. No white house stood at the end. While she’d been preparing herself, still the pain caught in her throat. The big house of Twin Oaks really was gone.
Wolf stopped the buggy to give her time to recover. ‘‘Even though the house is not there, I can see it clearly, thanks to your descriptions.’’
‘‘Don’ look de same, do it?’’ Daniel leaned on his horse’s withers. ‘‘But dere’s tobacco growin’ green.’’
‘‘Zachary must have more help now.’’ Jesselynn tucked her handkerchief back in her bag. ‘‘Let’s go.’’
Wolf clucked the horse, and they trotted between the trees that still lined the drive, grown some bigger since she left.
A dog ran out to bark at their arrival. Smoke rose from a log cabin set back behind where the summer kitchen used to stand. But while Louisa had told of the brick chimneys remaining upright, they were now only piles of bricks.
A thin black woman came to the door of the cabin, shaded her eyes, then threw her apron over her head.
‘‘Lucinda, we’ve come home.’’ Jesselynn didn’t wait for the buggy to come to a full halt before leaping to the ground and running to throw her arms around the turbaned woman. Together they laughed and cried, hugging, stepping back, and then hugging again.
‘‘I din’t think dis day would ever come.’’ Lucinda wiped her eyes with the edge of her apron as Thaddeus and Wolf came to stand beside Jesselynn. ‘‘And is dis big boy my baby, Thaddeus?’’
She put her hands up to her cheeks. ‘‘Lawd above, he near to grown.’’
‘‘Lucinda, this is my husband, Gray Wolf Torstead.’’ Jesselynn slipped her arm through her husband’s and finished the introductions. Then looking around, she asked, ‘‘Where’s Zachary? Didn’t he get the telegram?’’
>
‘‘Oh, he did.’’ Lucinda’s face lost its smile.
‘‘Has he a place ready for the horses?’’
‘‘He do.’’ She nodded to where the barns used to be. ‘‘Down dere.’’
Something’s sure wrong here. Jesselynn turned to Wolf. ‘‘You and Daniel want to take the horses down there?’’
Wolf looked from Lucinda to the pole building he took to be the barn.
‘‘You better go wid.’’ Lucinda shook her head. ‘‘I have supper ready when you comes back.’’
‘‘I’m comin’ too.’’ Thaddeus kept within touching range of Jesselynn’s arm, as if sensing things weren’t quite what she had promised him.
Each of them leading one of the horses, they walked on down the track to what looked more like sheds than barns. Rosebushes so overgrown they were hardly recognizable still bloomed pink and white in what had been the rose garden. Louisa said she trimmed them back before she left. Looks like Zachary cares not a whit for beauty.
‘‘Perhaps I can take some cuttings back with me. How I would love to have one of Mama’s roses growin’ by our house. See that old burnt tree there by the house, Thaddy? That’s a magnolia. I used to climb out my window and down that tree when I wanted to be at the barn.’’
‘‘Why not use the door?’’
‘‘Because my mother didn’t want me down riding Ahab or the other Thoroughbreds. She said that wasn’t ladylike, and Lucinda was worse than Mama.’’ Jesselynn started to laugh but stopped when she saw a man leaning on a crutch step out of the pole building.
‘‘Zachary?’’ Oh, dear Lord, can that really be my handsome brother? She forced a smile to lips that quivered and ran forward to greet him.
Hugging him was like hugging a stone. She stepped back. Lines crevassed his face, his eye bloodshot, the black patch slightly askew. He smelled like he’d taken a bath in a whiskey barrel.
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