by Jerri Hines
“But I do to you.”
Jo’s scowl deepened as she waited until he was by her side. He had greatly altered his appearance since the night before with a much-needed change of clothes. He had shaved his beard off and left a well-groomed mustache.
“Andrew, I do not need to hear anymore hypocrisy.” Her frown grew ominous. She saw his eyes fixed together in a stubborn manner. “I have been insulted by you for the last time.”
“I deserve that.” He faced her with fortitude blazed in his countenance. “It is not for me but Wade I ask you to hear me out. I had no right to unburden my conscience to you and in turn further do you harm. Honor demanded my silence.”
“What has been said can’t be unsaid.”
“I do not deny that, but I gave my word to my brother. I know he greatly loves you. Anything done was motivated by that love. Do we not all make decisions at times that we come to regret?”
“His came with a high price. It cost Gillie her life…Cullen has ostracized himself from his family—” Abruptly, she stopped speaking. Her emotions toiled beyond the ability to talk.
“If Wade had not sent the telegram, I can’t disagree that the outcome would have been different, but you can’t blame Wade for Harry Lee’s actions. Harry Lee had already kidnapped Gillie and Heyward. Whatever was done to Gillie and Heyward is not on Wade’s conscience.”
Jo was silent. Perhaps she had no reason to blame Wade for Gillie’s death. No, it was more of a need that had emerged within her to lash out at Wade and hold him responsible for everything bad that had happened to her. As she blinked back welling tears, she struggled to find words. “Do not make light of his actions. He deceived Cullen…me. Our marriage is a lie…a lie. You can’t undo—”
“I can’t! I wish to God I could…because if you must blame someone for the whole of the mess, it is me! Me! Not Wade…not Cullen. I made a vow to rectify the wrongs I have done and once more have made a terrible error in judgment.”
“Andrew, what do you want me to do? Act as if I have no knowledge of what Wade as done? Are you mad?”
“It is exactly what I’m asking,” Andrew said in deadly seriousness. “I do not know if the words I uttered last night held truth to them. Grandfather slung them at me when he admonished me for the disgrace I had caused the family by marrying Kathleen.
“He proudly told me when emphasizing that Magnolia Bluff would survive because of Wade’s actions. That Wade was a true Montgomery, doing whatever necessary—”
“That Wade had turned into him! Is that what he said?”
“I will not deny it was Grandfather’s perception. It is not mine.”
Her mood would not let her accept Andrew’s attempt to soothe out his conflicting words— not with the anger that possessed her. “Wade caused harm with his actions. There are a wide range of consequences. I—”
Andrew imperiously stopped her. “Wade values honor above his own life; it would shame him for you to suspect him of such an action, whether or not it is true. This would destroy everything that Wade has worked for…for you…the family…Percival…”
His insinuation that Wade had claimed Percival without question was not lost upon her. Her mind reeled. “You ask too much.”
“Do I? You know Wade. You made sacrifices, as did he, but before Clarissa, Kathleen… before Cullen, it was the two of you. Are you going to hold it against Wade for loving you…for doing anything to have you?”
“For Magnolia Bluff.”
“No, you,” Andrew insisted. “Your papa wanted Wade for you from the first. It was not a lie that he endorsed Wade before his death. It was your papa’s wish because despite the claim of love for Cullen, could you have been happy anywhere but here? With Wade?”
“At what cost?”
“All actions have a cost, one way or another, but I sincerely doubt Wade’s motivation was to cause Cullen harm. Wade wanted you. Can you hold it against Wade that he grasped at the one chance he had to have his heart’s desire?”
“Yes…yes…yes! What he did was morally wrong. You are twisting your words to justify his behavior that has no justification. He destroyed Cullen’s link to his family…your family. The family that you contend Wade wants so much to preserve.”
“Did Wade’s actions break the bond with Cullen? I highly doubt it. Cullen help cut the ties on his own when he decided to wear blue. This gulf between Wade and Cullen would have come, despite their feelings for you. It is out of your control, as this conflict that has swallowed us up in its hatred,” Andrew went on loyally. “The past can’t be changed. The question becomes what future do you want.”
She gave him an uneasy glance. The last few days had weighed heavily against her. It occurred to her that now, as she was then, she was caught in a quandary. She gave no heed to the tears that escaped down her face. “I don’t know much at the moment, Andrew. I hurt. Nothing you have said has eased that pain, but it is my cross to bear. Perhaps with time…”
“You do not have time, Josephine.” Andrew reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a telegram. “A messenger brought it this afternoon. It’s from Wade. He is leading an expedition back into the area and will be home within the week.”
* * * *
Josephine watched her son giggle and waddle across the parlor into her arms. Her heart swelled with a never-ending love. His hair had darkened, even darker than hers; his deep brown eyes were so huge and expressive and his infectious smile lit up a room.
There was no love greater than she felt for him. Then, as quickly as love surged through her, a sudden sadness gripped her. How unfair life was for her to enjoy this moment in time and it be denied to… She halted her thought. It was a useless sentiment. She could not undo the past, but long suppressed feelings toward Cullen began to emerge and stir up her frustration and anger.
Driven by her conscience, tormented silence haunted her about Cullen…what could have been…should have been. It did little to soothe her soul that it was she who had caused the strife between Wade and Cullen. Two men who had been closer than brothers. Two men who now stood against each other.
The dreaded truth was that she would never know what could have been if Wade had not sent that telegram. If indeed, he had sent the blasted message! She only knew the heartache the telegram had caused.
On the horizon, she foresaw other worries. Concern mounted around Charleston. The naval blockade of the harbor had begun to show its effects; the wet weather had greatly hampered harvesting the crops. Constant rumors of slave unrest added to the uncertainties. The community was fearful, especially after the debacle at Beaufort.
“I hear, Miss Jo,” Miss Hazel said, “that ’em Yanks in Beaufort have opened it up. Yes ’um, for all to come and be free.”
“And what, pray tell, do you want me to do about it? I have little control of anyone’s behavior. If you are nervous to be here, I will ask Andrew to see if I can get you to Philadelphia.”
“Ain’t gonna go nowhere, Miss Jo. This is my home. Ain’t gonna let no one take my place away from me. I ’ust worry about you, that’s all.”
“I’m not going anywhere, either,” Jo assured Miss Hazel.
She said no more on the subject, but understood the warning that Miss Hazel had given her. No matter how the slaves were treated at Magnolia Bluff, they weren’t free. There were chains that bound them to the plantation.
Take only one day at a time, Wade had told her before he had left. One day: no more, no less. Oh, she already hated this war. Her only wish was that it would be over swiftly.
Yesterday, more bad news filtered back to Magnolia Bluff. Their neighbors to the west, the Simmons, lost two of their sons in Virginia.
Holding her son, she moved over to the window. The sky suffused with a deep orange, a brilliant sight to behold. Her gaze held toward the lazing disk of the sun.
In the distance, a sight caught her eye. Wearing Confederate gray, riders emerged around the curve along the lane up to the house. Her heart fluttered. Sud
den trepidation filled her.
Her husband had returned from war. She should rush down the stairs, but she hesitated, afraid she would not be able to conceal the doubt from his eyes…the betrayal that burned a fire in her heart.
“Jo! Jo!” Jenna dashed into the room. “It’s Wade. He’s home!”
Not waiting for Jo to respond, Jenna gestured for Jo to go in front of her out of the room. It would never do not to be the first to welcome her husband. Jo forced a small smile and picked up the hem of her crinoline-stiffened skirt.
The dutiful wife stood at the foot of the steps with Percival in her arms when the riders halted in front of the house. Wade didn’t bother with introductions before he leaped from his horse.
Suddenly, she was in his arms…they were in his arms. Wade’s full beard gave Percival only a moment’s hesitation. His little arms embraced his papa as his father’s attention turned to Josephine.
If Wade picked up on her reserved greeting, he gave no indication. He kissed her openly in front of everyone. He whispered, “Josephine.”
Breaking from his lips, she finally uttered, “You are home.”
“I’m afraid only briefly.” He looked at her as though he had seen the gates of heaven open for him. “General Stonewall Jackson needed volunteers to secure more guns to take up to Virginia. I gladly accepted the mission and have been given leave to take a few days to check on you and my family. God Almighty, I didn’t care what I had to do. Given the opportunity, I would have walked through hell to see you again.”
* * * *
The Montgomerys sat down later than normal for dinner, but what a feast had been prepared. The family gathering had turned into a celebration, welcoming Wade’s companions, Private Dennis Crocker from Savannah and Private Earl Riley from outside of Atlanta.
The men bathed and had been given clothes to wear while their uniforms were given a good wash. Pleasant chatter filled the rooms, the first hint of festivity the family had known for such a long time.
“Ma’am, you’re as Major Montgomery has described ya’. It is no wonder he has talked of nothing else.” Private Crocker heaped another helping of potatoes on his plate. He was a thin thing with curly reddish hair and kept nodding to Anna, who blushed prettily. “It’s nice to have family to write ya’ and all. Got my mamma and sister writing me. My pa don’t write none. Lets my mamma write. Gonna go down to see them tomorrow. Major said we could have a few days at home ’cause the mission went so well. Snuck them guns right through the blockade—”
“Crocker…” Wade admonished. Pushing back on his chair, he lit a cigar. “The ladies don’t want to talk of—”
“I do,” Jenna interrupted. “I have questions about all that you do. Derek is in Virginia. I worry so about him. What is camp life like?”
“Camp life is hideous at best.” Private Riley answered and took a sip of sweetened tea. “Sweltering heat in the summer, replaced by the damp and cold. Sickness is everywhere...” His voice faded, as if remembering the company he was keeping. He mumbled, “Sorry, ma’am.”
Wade frowned. “Obviously, it is not home.”
“But ya must have fought ’em Yanks,” Jenna pressed, hungry for news. “The paper said you whipped ’em good at Manassas.”
“Ya wanna hear?” Riley snapped, to Jenna’s bewilderment. “Ain’t nobody braver than a Reb soldier. In that is the truth. Brave and undaunted, facing our enemy without fear in our eyes. I was there at Bull Run, if that’s what ya talkin’ of.” His head tilted toward Wade. “Followed the major there into battle.” His voice tensed. “At one point, we were retreating, running into a dense wooded area, turning as we rode and firing. It was as if a hail of bullets rained down. Shells exploded around us, tearing through our ranks. Men fell around us as if they were flies…”
For a moment, his eyes glazed over…as if he stood back in the memory. “I rode with my best friend, Michael. We signed up together. The best shot in the county he was… We were rallying and formed a line of support. We started off and emerged from the woods. I watched as a bombshell struck Mikey’s horse and body, and literally tore him to pieces. I couldn’t do anything. I wanted to…but I couldn’t stop…had to go forward. The explosions all around me…echoed with the groans of the wounded and dying. I had to push on…the enemy had to be pushed back. Blood…so much blood. It was splattered over the trees and soil…the ground strewn with dead bodies. Yet I kept on pushing until we had the advantage…I left Mikey…”
He lowered his head and said grimly, “We won. In the midst of all the confusion of the Yanks’ retreat back to Washington, there were civilians who had come out to watch as if it was some damn picnic. My friend got blown to bits and they came out for a picnic. I went back and found Mikey. Buried what was left. Ain’t no damn picnic.”
Awe fell upon the room. No one spoke. Jo glanced at Wade with frightened eyes.
“Andrew,” Wade interposed hastily, “I noticed riding up to the house that the plantation looks in good shape. Some around here look like they are feeling the effect of the blockade.”
Jo caught Jenna’s concerned eyes. Wade had diverted the conversation but the words echoed hauntingly in the room.
* * * *
An hour passed. As she brushed her hair, she sat at her bureau and pondered the day’s events. The excitement of his return filled the house with a gaiety it had rarely seen in the last few months. She, too, got caught in the festivities. Wade was home and everything else seemed to be forgotten until this moment.
Alone in the stillness, she thought of all the things that she had wanted to say to her husband. So many things she wanted to ask. So many things she needed to know. It was only after Private Riley’s outburst that the reality of the war suffused through Jo. The man was disturbed and tormented by what he had seen in battles.
Through the evening, she listened to Wade talk at length in an effort to make light of the burden the soldiers carried. She watched his mother, who couldn’t take her eyes off him; his sisters hung on their brother’s every word. Grace Ann had been no better, laughing at his jokes and stilted funny stories.
Jo caught Wade’s troubled gaze, though he had quickly hidden it behind a façade of smiles and charm. Understanding suffused through her: he held back in an effort to protect the women from the realities that truly surrounded him at camp and battle. It scared her.
After what seemed an eternity, the door opened. Wade did not look at her immediately when he walked in, but closed the door behind him. How she wished she could shut out the world as easily.
“Andrew kept you awhile.”
“We did not talk long,” Wade confessed. Taking his uniform coat off, he slung it over the high chair. “I have been in the nursery, watching Percival sleep.”
She placed her brush down; she turned around on her cushioned stool and studied her husband for a long moment. He looked tired. Moreover, his voice carried sadness in a faraway tone. “He loves you,” she said simply. “He’s happy to have his daddy home, as am I.”
“As I am to be home.” He sat on the chair and pulled off his worn boots. “While I watched him, I realized I have never seen a more beautiful sight. So peaceful. So innocent. He has grown so.” Abruptly, he stopped. His blue eyes rose slowly until they met hers. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, confused, but something in his voice warned her to be cautious. She rose and knelt beside him. “What is wrong? Do you have a headache? I can massage—”
His boot dropped to the floor and he grasped her hands. “For having to manage on your own these last few months…enduring poor Fannie’s death… I’ve had nightmares that something happened to you or Percival and I would be too far away…”
She shook her head and spoke softly, not sure what to say to ease the strain she saw in his face. “Wade, don’t do this to yourself. You have made your family proud with your bravery and courage. You have done what you must. I have done no more than any other wife. We all do what we must for the cause.”
“You have done me proud.” He brought her hands to his lips. “You have been constantly on my mind since I have left. Forgive me, Josephine. I told myself I would not burden you with my guilt, but it weighs heavy on my soul. I cannot take this burden to my grave if I’m killed.”
Stricken by his proclamation of his mortality, she cried, “Oh, don’t say such a thing! Nothing can happen to you. Nothing, do you understand!”
“Please, Jo, I don’t want to alarm you, but there is the possibility with each battle fought. I need to know. Do I still have your love?”
She could feel her chest tighten, finding it hard to take her next breath. Had Andrew told him his suspicions? No, Andrew would not have, not after pleading with her not to confront Wade. Lost for words that did not come, she remained silent.
“I ripped you from your lover’s arms. You would have been married to Cullen if not for me and the cursed duty you felt. Oh, no, my darling, don’t turn from me,” he pleaded in an unsteady voice when she looked away, trying desperately to compose herself. “You need to know the man you married. I took great pleasure in winning you by whatever means. I loved you and even though I don’t deserve you, I was the victor.” He lifted her chin up and forced Jo to look at him.
She breathed in deeply and whispered, “What is wrong, Wade? Why are you talking in this manner?”
He pressed his lips tightly together. Obviously, the words came hard. “Andrew…Andrew confessed that in a moment of weakness, he told you that I had confided that Cullen believed Percival is his. I fear you may believe I have dishonored you.”
Wade had detected her aloofness. Her heart stilled. This was the moment to confront him with everything she suspected…to inflict the pain she felt…to hurt him the way she had been hurt.
She withdrew out of his reach. Her reaction was instantaneous as frustration lashed out at him. “You humiliated me. You confirmed Kathleen’s nastiness of accusations! How could you?”