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The Blue Hat and the Red Rose: A Historical Romance

Page 2

by Forest,Lynn


  “I know that there have been reports of some inexcusable acts of cruelty, but unfortunately I have found that some on our side have been guilty of the same. Sometimes honor is in short supply during war.

  “I just hope I never have to end another life. I have been in so many battles, some large and some small… I don’t know if I could even recall them all for you. I’m just ready for this war to be over, so that I can get back to the farm my parents left to me, and raise cattle like I helped my father do before the war and when he and my mother were still alive.”

  Her uncle spoke quietly, “I’m sorry, Major. It sounds like you have experienced much loss lately. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  Charles shook his head slowly. “I had an older brother, but he was killed at Gettysburg. So, I have to carry on the family name and livelihood.” Both of the older people murmured expressions of condolence, when they were interrupted by a shout of, “I don’t need an escort!” The emphatic statement was followed by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairway.

  Charles turned to see a young woman come to a stop at the final step. She was wearing denim riding britches, boots and a western styled hat. Even from a distance, Charles could see the glare of disapproval in her expression. Her uncle gestured to her with a sweeping motion of his arm, “And this, Major Morrow, is Miss Emily McMannus, your traveling companion for however long it takes you to deliver her safely home.”

  Without saying a word of greeting, Emily walked loudly toward her uncle and crossed her arms defiantly. “I don’t need a soldier to take me home. I quite well know the way, for I have now traveled it three times. And I am an excellent horseback rider. I don’t want to ride on that silly wagon.”

  Her uncle sighed and shook his head. “And every time you made the trip it was with your parents. Now, Emily… I want you to understand how important it is to do what the Major tells you to do so that he can keep you safe.”

  Emily hissed loudly through her clenched teeth, “I won’t be a threat to anyone. And there’s no reason for anyone to want to harm me. And when it comes down to it, I don’t want to be protected by guns. Words and reasoning are much more civilized.”

  Her uncle sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, Major Morrow, but we took a train trip to Lexington during her visit last summer, and Emily spent most of the weekend listening to lectures from a group of college professors from New England who were proponents of pacifism.”

  Charles nodded to Emily. “With all due respect, Miss McMannus, in my heart I would like to agree with those professors. Unfortunately, pacifism only works when both sides of the dispute agree to dispense with weapons and violence. If I recall correctly, it was the Rebels who started all this by firing at Fort Sumter.”

  Her arms still crossed, she stomped her foot loudly on the wood floor. “I’m twenty years old. I can take care of myself.” She turned sharply toward Charles. “You can’t be that much older than me, are you?”

  Her aunt spoke up, “Emily, that’s not important, and hardly polite to a man who has been sent here at your parents’ request.”

  A slight smile appeared on the Major’s face. “That’s all right, ma’am… I’m twenty-five years old.”

  Emily wheeled toward the older couple and uttered a high-pitched, “See what I mean?”

  She let out a huff of breath. “He’s only five years older than me.”

  Her uncle put his hands on her shoulders. “And he’s already a Major in the Army.” Her uncle gestured toward the soldier. “Emily, doesn’t that tell you something about him?”

  She stiffened in her stance and shook her head slowly, still seething, “It tells me he knows whose Army of the Republic’s rear ends to kiss.”

  Her aunt stepped over and gripped Emily by the elbow. “Emily, my dear, your uncle William and I love you like you were our own daughter, but that was uncalled for. You may be twenty years old, but if you make another disrespectful statement like that, I’m going to send a telegraph to your mother telling her that you could use some time with Red Rose.”

  Emily suddenly blushed a deep red, and then seemed to shrink her already petite frame. Her uncle broke the uncomfortable silence, “Major, when do you think that Emily could possibly be arriving home? Today is Monday, possibly by Wednesday evening?”

  Charles nodded, “Possibly.”

  Emily poked her finger at the revolver that rested in the holster at his hip. “Do you have to wear that thing?”

  Charles exhaled a deep sigh and placed his hands on his hips and leaned close to the defiant young woman. “Miss McMannus… I have intelligence from the Army that tells us that we should encounter very few problems. However, if there would be any bad men along the way wanting to cause us some problems, I doubt that they would be armed with slingshots. So, to answer your question, yes, the gun stays at my side.”

  Emily huffed and folded her arms once more and turned partially away from him. Then she looked at him and then her aunt and uncle with an expression of acceptance and resignation that appeared to be a little bit exaggerated. She looked down and murmured, “If it has to be.”

  Before he could respond, Emily let out an audible breath, “Excuse me for a moment. I have one more little bag of necessities to bring from my room.” She began to walk away toward the back of the first floor of the house, and as she did so, Charles found himself unwittingly captivated by her womanly form outlined in the riding denims and the checked shirt, and the way that her long brown wavy hair fell onto her back.

  As soon as she had walked away, her aunt exhaled deeply. “We apologize for Emily’s demeanor. It seems that my brother and my sister-in-law, in spite of their best efforts, raised a rather spirited and rebellious daughter. It’s not that she wasn’t raised with a healthy dose of discipline, but nonetheless well… you can see the results.”

  Her uncle began to ask Charles about the different places he had gone with the Army, and as the minutes passed by, her aunt began to nervously glance back toward the hallway. Nonetheless, her husband kept on chatting with Charles about not only the Army, but the farm he had grown up on.

  Aunt Catherine spoke up. “I had best go and see what is keeping Emily. And Major, we want to apologize in advance if she is a problem for you.”

  Charles allowed himself to laugh. “I suppose it’s only going to make me have a deeper appreciation of some quiet service at Camp Harrison. After all, if I can’t handle a pretty little…”

  Suddenly, their attention was diverted by a high-pitched squeal and the sound of rapid hoof beats. They all ran to the door only to see Emily riding away at full speed… to the north, of course. Charles placed his hand against his forehead as he looked down. “My horse.” He slapped his hat against the doorframe. “She took my horse. My horse!” Her uncle looked down and shook his head… “Oh, no.” Her aunt simply placed her hands on the sides of her head, her mouth wide open in shock and embarrassment.

  Still stunned by what had happened, they all ambled down the porch steps as Charles looked off in the distance to see the incorrigible Emily and his horse barely still in sight. Her uncle squeezed the soldier’s shoulder. “Just go ahead and take the wagon. Hopefully she will come to her senses and you can catch up with her.”

  Charles nodded and hopped up on to the plush and padded seat of the buckboard. He tried to speak, then threw his hands up in exasperation. “After I find her, and as soon as I can get to some telegraph office…” He shook his head, seized the reins and took off on his quest to ride a wagon and catch up with the bullheaded young woman who had taken his lightning fast horse.

  Every minute or so as the afternoon passed, Charles would slow his horses down to look at the shoed hoof prints in the dust. He had ridden the same horse for over a year, and he was well familiar with the tracks it left. Although he knew that in terms of speed, he could not begin to catch up to Emily should she fail to slow down, and at least the road leading north toward the Ohio River valley was dusty enough that he could track her as lo
ng as he had daylight.

  But there were only a couple of hours of daylight left, and the slight, unarmed and greatly petulant young woman would soon be traveling in the dark. Recalling her comment about having made the trip before, he assumed that she would likely stay on the most traveled paths along the way. But he was concerned that she would misjudge the distance and be forced to come to a stop for the night where she may be more vulnerable to the human hazards that possibly awaited.

  He stopped where a stream came close to the edge of the road, so that the horses could drink and munch on the abundant grass. He did know that there was a small barrel of grain behind the seat, but decided to save that for a situation in which the horses may need to be fed while he was attempting to be out of sight. He let them rest for a while, then resumed at a slow pace, his worry for the young woman increasing as darkness fell along the tree-lined dirt road.

  The trek continued, the horses now at a pace that was nothing more than a walk. He pulled out his pocket watch and saw that it was midnight, and it was his hope that Emily would have become frightened enough by the darkness that she would have stopped somewhere so that he would have a chance of finding her. But he did not know if she would call out to him in her fear, or stubbornly stay hidden from him so that he would pass by and not find her.

  He felt his blood begin to run cold at the thought of some less than honorable men coming upon Emily before he did. After all, she was unarmed, small and… pretty. Very pretty. Very pretty and well-shaped for that matter, and he suddenly could not get the angry but beguiling face and the sway of her generous backside as she walked away in anger out of his mind. Suddenly felt waves of fear overwhelming him, fear that greatly exceeded any concerns about his failure to carry out his mission. Somewhere, up ahead in the darkness, a beautiful young woman was alone in an area occasioned by various kinds of ne’er-do-wells.

  Chapter Two

  A little bit after midnight, Charles decided that he would have to give the horses a few hours of rest, so he pulled the wagon off the road and into a small clearing in the dense woods that would provide just enough room for the rig and horses to be hidden by the trees. When the horses had been secured to a low tree branch but with enough room to allow them to eat some of the grass to keep their strength up, he pulled his rifle from the bed of the wagon, cocked it to be at the ready, then crouched down on the ground and leaned back against the trunk of a large tree.

  He would have much preferred to have slept in the bed of the wagon or even scrunched himself up enough to rest on the cushioned seat. But he knew that he needed to be provided with an open view of anyone passing on the road, or attempting to creep up on him. He also pulled his Army revolver from its holster, cocked it and placed it on the ground right next to him.

  He did not wish to fall asleep, but wondered if he would be able to prevent it. He not only had to worry about being asleep and unaware of approaching dangers, he was also aware that when his nightmares would come to visit, it was not unusual for him to shout out in the night.

  Against his will, he did fall asleep, only to wake later and glance at his pocket watch to see that it was now six o’clock in the morning. Several minutes later, he was once again traveling along the dirt road keeping the horses at a slow trot. And as his impatience with the slow travel began to boil, he found his worry about Emily being rivaled by his anger at her for having pulled such a stunt. As a minimal amount of daylight became available over the tops of the trees, he was constantly turning his head to scan the surroundings for any sign of the young adult delinquent he was supposed to keep safe.

  He traveled for another hour, finding his tension and irritation rising simultaneously. Up ahead was a bend in the road, but a wisp of smoke in the distance that appeared quite out of place seized his attention. There was no sign of any house, let alone a settlement up ahead. He slowed the horses even more, and when he could see in the far distance what looked like people moving around, he cautiously pulled the wagon off the road and secured the reins to a small tree. He pulled his revolver from the holster, pulled back the hammer and replaced it. Then he slowly cocked the rifle, and began to walk cautiously ahead to see what was going on and if it involved Emily.

  He suddenly halted when he heard the sound of cattle in the distance, and the closer he got to what he could now see were several Union soldiers close to a small fire, he began to relax as he continued his cautious approach. Another thirty yards ahead, he came to where a dozen steers were tied to three wagons, and as he walked up to the animals he could see that the letters “U.S.” had been freshly branded into the hindquarters.

  He was relieved that he had simply wandered upon some other Union soldiers who were obviously gathering and transporting livestock to feed troops, hopefully paying their owners as they were requisitioned. But he still had not made his presence known, and after a few more steps, he stopped his quiet approach, stunned at the scene in front of him.

  Up ahead was a woman bent across a barrel that was standing on its end, her hands tied to the wheel of a broken down and abandoned wagon, and all of her clothing from the waist down pulled down around her feet. She was so petite that the toes of her boots dangled a couple of inches above the ground.

  She was also gagged to silence her. She was in a position so that she could look at the fire, and the branding iron that was being lifted out of the ashes by one of the soldiers. Charles looked at the long wavy brown hair that fell down beside her head, and the same blue and yellow-checkered shirt he had seen the previous day. He moaned softly and walked ahead.

  As soon as he saw the soldier in the blue uniform begin to walk toward the struggling young woman with the red-hot branding iron, he yelled out, “Corporal… halt.” The startled soldiers turned to face him, and the one holding the branding iron was so rattled that he lost his grip on the glowing tool and dropped it on his foot. The iron immediately burned through his shoe, and the soldier began to scream and dance around from the immense pain.

  The soldiers came to attention and saluted the Major who had just appeared in their presence, and Charles took amusement in seeing the Corporal who had held the hot iron attempting to stand at attention in such unbearable pain. He walked slowly closer, and then came to stand next to the mortified, squirming and struggling Emily. He looked the men over for a moment, looking at their uniforms and insignia before finally muttering through clenched teeth, “At ease.”

  All the men appeared pale, as Charles continued to ignore the humiliated Emily who could only moan and grunt with a large bandanna tied around her mouth. He took another step toward the man who had been wielding the branding iron. “Corporal, it looks to me like you are in charge of this crew, as everyone else here is a Private. So, would you please tell me what you are planning to do with this branding iron?” Charles turned back to look at Emily, who once again began to omit desperate but muffled squeals. “Although, I think it is apparent. I just want to hear your explanation.”

  The young Corporal was at first unable to speak. “Sir… I… we… thought that she was a spy for the Rebs. Private Johansson over there… he recognized her from Cynthiana. We were in that fight there. We got sent out to find some beef, but when we saw her traveling alone, we thought that meant that she knew she was safe from any Rebs.”

  Charles nodded and cleared his throat loudly. “Soldier, did you simply try questioning her?”

  The young Corporal nodded energetically. “Yes, Sir, but she just crossed her arms and looked away.” He pointed toward the branding iron that was now on the ground causing the grass beneath it to smolder. “We were… we were trying to make her talk, that’s all. I never would have really touched that hot iron to her…uhm….”

  The nervous soldier took another deep breath. “And one more thing, Sir… she has a distinctly Southern accent.”

  Charles leaned closer to the Corporal. “And just where are you fellows from that you are so familiar with the accents of people who live in Kentucky?”

 
The soldier gulped loudly. “Our quartermaster regiment is from Connecticut, Sir. We just got here at the end of the fighting and we were sent out to gather up some beef… Major… Sir.”

  Charles looked back at Emily, only to hear her muffled cries become louder, then turned back to the terrified young soldier. “Actually, I know that she is not a spy, and I can also assure you, soldier, that the last thing that you want to accomplish is making her talk.” He turned back toward the captive. “Isn’t that right, Emily?” In response, she began to squeal loudly again through the bandanna.

  He turned and knelt down in front of the restrained young woman. “Emily… Miss McMannus… I want to know, aside from stripping you from the waist down, did any of these men do anything else of an inappropriate nature to you?” He pulled the gag down under her chin, and she began to hiss at her rescue, “No! But isn’t it bad enough that they were going to…” Immediately, Charles pulled the gag back over her mouth and she continued to protest in her muffled manner. Then he stood and looked toward the soldiers.

  “I doubt that the Congressman who arranged for me to escort Miss McMannus home will be very pleased if she arrives with the letters “U.S.” permanently burned into her hindquarters. Now, I want you men to gather up those steers and be on your way, and if you leave right away, I won’t have any of you court-martialed for this. Dismissed.”

  He then watched in satisfaction and amusement at the mad scramble of the young soldiers as they rushed to gather up their gear, untie the steers and begin to herd them away down the road, a couple of them still scrambling to get back on their already moving horses. All the while that he watched, Charles ignored the stifled squeals and protests of the half-naked young woman still tied in place next to him.

  A minute later, all that he could see of the men and their herd was a cloud of dust being kicked up behind them. He then sighed loudly, picked up a log that would be suitable to serve as a stool, then sat down in front of Emily so that they would be able to look each other in the eyes. “Now, Emily… Miss McMannus… I must tell you that in all my travels throughout several states, I have never before come up on such a scene as this. Especially from the view with which it first greeted me.”

 

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