by Forest,Lynn
Emily looked down disapprovingly at the revolver resting on the cushioned black leather bench between them. “That thing makes me feel uncomfortable.” Charles shook his head and sighed deeply, then reached down and placed the revolver beneath the seat and out of sight before clicking his tongue loudly to signal the horses to travel on.
They had gone for about a mile since their last stop, eating some crackers and dried beef as they rode. That was when they came upon an older couple riding a buckboard, the woman holding a rifle that she finally lowered when she saw the uniform Charles was wearing.
The bearded man driving the wagon waved to signal for them to stop, “Word’s getting around, that about four hours north of here are some robbers ambushing travelers.” The man’s eyes lingered on Emily for a moment. “Major, I don’t want to tell your business, but the little lady there… I guess you know what I mean.”
The implications of the man’s words made a chill go through Emily’s body. Charles nodded to the man, “I very much appreciate the warning. I’ll be extra careful up ahead.” The older man waved and signaled to his horses, and he and the grim faced woman went on their own way. Charles doubted that admonishing Emily to be more alert to their surroundings would have done any good, but he did reach behind the seat and check once again that the rifle was cocked and ready. He would have preferred to have her holding it to have it at his immediate disposal, but he decided to avoid another confrontation so that they could get on their way.
Nonetheless, as they began to move again and as she reflected on his actions, she crossed her arms and looked away. “You are simply fixated on those guns. I would feel perfectly safe in your company without them. In fact, I would feel even safer, because without them you wouldn’t feel tempted to provoke a shoot-out.”
Charles simply sucked his lips in in his impatience. “And tell me, Miss Emily, where you gained all of this expertise on peacefully resolving ambushes by bandits and thieves, let alone fanatical packs of enemy soldiers refusing to give up.”
Emily rolled her eyes and placed her hands out as if explaining a simple fact, “At those seminars in Lexington I went to last year, the professors…”
Charles suddenly began to laugh at her muffled protests, as he had reached over and placed his hand firmly over her mouth. He slowly lowered his hand, and saw that she was looking at him with daggers in her eyes. “Thank you, Miss Emily. I don’t think I need to hear any more.” She responded simply by, once again, crossing her arms and looking away. She remained that way for most of the next hour as they traveled.
In the four hours since they had encountered the older couple who had warned them about the dangers ahead, there had been virtually no conversation between them. However, what really worried Charles was that the road now seemed otherwise abandoned. His intuition told him that people who lived in the area were avoiding the road for their own safety. Night was beginning to fall, and when they came to a bend in the road that bordered on a wide creek, he slowed the horses to a walk and lowered his voice. “I think we need to stay here for the night. I’m going to move the wagon into that clearing next to the bank. That should keep us out of sight, and you can sleep on the wagon while I keep watch.”
Emily turned toward him as he began to guide the horses and the wagon to the small clearing. He was relieved to see that the bank on the opposite side was part of a farmer’s field, giving him a clear view in that direction. “Charles, I feel so dusty and dirty. I think I’m going to get a change of clothes out of my trunk and go into the creek and bathe. Unless you have to give me permission, of course.” Her voice had taken on a challenging tone once again.
Charles sighed deeply, but in spite of his unease, he nodded to her. “Okay, there’s not a lot of moonlight tonight, so I’ll just stand facing the road and watching while you do what you have to get done. But whatever you do, don’t splash around, and do it as quietly and quickly as possible.”
Without another word, she crawled over the back of the seat and opened her trunk and began to rummage through it. Unable to keep from smiling to himself, Charles tied the horses to a small tree, then went to the side of the wagon facing the road, leaned against it and crossed his arms to watch ahead and to the sides, avoiding looking back.
He felt a lot of amusement and more than a little curiosity as he listened to the soft scraping sounds as her boots and knees scuffed across the wagon bed as she commenced doing whatever a young woman about to bathe in a stream would have to do. He lowered the sound of his own breathing to be alert to danger, and try to distinguish the sounds that she was making from all others.
After several minutes, he heard the faintest sound of what he thought was a footstep into the water, and he could only imagine the sight. And for that matter, he would not allow himself to do any more than imagine. When he had come upon her bound and gagged across the barrel, he had already seen more of a woman’s body then at any previous moment.
His body stiff from riding all day, he stretched and thought at first that he simply may have heard one of his own joints crack. Nonetheless, he held his breath and heard another faint “clop,” followed by several others he walked closer to the road and stood behind a tree and looked north, and in the dim moonlight he could make out three men on horseback. In addition, he could see that all three of them had stopped and were looking around, all holding rifles at the ready across their saddles.
He walked backward as silently as he could until he was close enough to the creek that he thought that Emily could hear his voice, not much more than a whisper: “Pssssst… Emily… get out.”
She replied, but not as quietly as he would have preferred, “But I just got in.”
Impatiently, he stepped over to the wagon and retrieved a blanket that had been folded across the back of the seat and tossed it close to the bank. “We have visitors. Wrap yourself in that and hide under the wagon.”
He went to the front of the wagon and reached under the seat to retrieve his revolver, and then felt his blood turn cold when he could not find it. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how the weapon could have somehow fallen from the wagon along the way. Frantically, he began reaching in the dark beneath the seat as he heard more hoof beats, indicating that the three men were barely moving, but had moved close enough that he could hear their voices but not distinguish what they were saying. In the corner of his eye, he saw the petite Emily, wrapped in the blanket, kneel and slide beneath the wagon.
Deciding that he would stand guard behind a tree near the road, he reached to the wagon bed to where he had placed his rifle, but it was not there either. Nearly frozen by fear and frustration, he then ducked beneath the wagon, drew Emily to lean back against him, his hand firmly across her mouth. He then began to speak slowly and in a whisper, “There are three men coming, looking around and carrying rifles. I don’t think they’re up to any good. Now, where did you put my guns?”
The sounds of the men grew closer, and now Charles could make out some of their words. “They have to be around here somewhere.” Another voice responded, “Never mind, I want to be in Cynthiana by daybreak. We have to keep moving.” Another, deeper voice joined in, “I’m with Howie. All the time we were watching them, I kept thinking how that pretty little filly would…” Charles felt Emily’s body tighten, and although he still had his hand over her mouth, she turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fright. The original voice spoke impatiently, “Me, too. Uhm uhmmm. But, let’s go and get on our way.”
Charles and Emily watched in silence as the three men suddenly began to ride away back toward Cynthiana. All the while, Charles was holding his breath and wishing beyond all hope that neither of their horses tied to the wagon would make a sound to give away their presence. He could feel her heart racing, but it was beating no faster than his own as they listened and watched as the sounds of the voices and hoof beats on the dirt road grew fainter.
A minute later, Charles softened his grip on Emily and lowered his hand from her mouth. She
spoke slowly and haltingly, “See, if you would’ve had your guns, who knows who may all have been killed.”
Charles was too astonished to speak for a moment. “Emily, I want you to answer me right now. Where did you put my guns?”
Her voice was halting and shaking, “At the seminar, the professor said that the best way to render a weapon safe, is to just put it in water.”
Charles was speechless for a moment, “So, you…?”
He felt her beginning to tremble. “In the creek.”
For a moment, he simply stared at her in disbelief. He rubbed his forehead for a moment, and then exhaled in his surrender to reality. “We’ll stay under the wagon for the night. I’ll still keep watch, and maybe if another crew of bad men comes along, I can fight them with a branch.” He looked down at her with a steely gaze. “Just to be safe, we have to stay silent until daylight. First thing in the morning, you can try taking a bath again before anyone is likely to come along.”
Emily did not respond, and when Charles moved over next to one of the wagon wheels and leaned against it so that he could watch the surroundings, he drew Emily to him. Still bundled in the blanket, she rested her head on his thigh and gazed out toward the darkness that now seemed much more threatening than it had an hour before.
Just at daybreak, Charles watched in wonder at the small woman slumbering next to him, her head still resting on his leg. He was still in shock at her foolhardiness, and he could not understand why, through the entire night when he was not fitfully and occasionally dozing, he felt more afraid than he had in many instances of actual combat.
She finally began to stir, and when her eyes opened she sat up immediately, clasping the blanket to her breasts as she took several seconds to understand and remember where she was and why. Her eyes were wide open and her breath was rapid, then she looked at Charles and began to shrink away from him. But he confused her by simply staring at her and speaking slowly and deliberately, “If you want to take that bath, do it right now.”
She carefully and slowly scooted backward, and as soon as she stood up, Charles saw the blanket fall to the ground in a heap, and for some few seconds he could see the bare feet of a young woman sprinting toward the creek, so he quickly turned back to face the road. She ran to the creek past the clothing and other items she had placed there the night before, hoping that the cool water would soothe her emotions and stop her from shaking.
As she quietly moved about in the water, ducking under to wash the dust from her long and wavy brown hair, she felt a strange combination of being ashamed of herself for having disposed of the guns, and immensely proud of herself for the same reason. She had to admit to herself that she was quite rattled at hearing the bandits referring to their desire to find her, but at the same time, she felt that in her own individual way, a step had been taken to avoid death and conflict.
She knew that Charles had to be livid with her, and knew that in all likelihood her parents and aunt and uncle would not have approved, but she thought of how grand a moment it would be if she could sit down with those three professors she had met at Lexington and tell them about the step toward peace she had taken.
At least Charles still had his knife. As he looked around, intently watching the road, he was also whittling the end of a sturdy branch into a sharp and lethal point. At least, if he found himself in a situation of desperation in close quarters, a spear would be better than nothing. As he worked, horrific visions of fighting with the sword and gruesome combat with bayonets on the ends of muskets filled his consciousness. All else that he could think of was looks on men’s faces the moment they had been pierced by a bayonet, conscious enough to know that they were about to die a slow, painful death unless a merciful ball from a rifle would come their way to end it all.
All of their belongings were secured but for what Emily had with her at the bank of the stream. The horse was tied to the back of the wagon, and he had untied the horses and moved them toward the road. Just as he finished making the rustic weapon, he turned to place it on the wagon and halted in the moment of seeing Emily walking back toward the wagon. She was wearing a blue flowered calico dress and a wide brimmed hat. Seeing her standing like that in her bare feet made her seem to him to be as beautiful as any woman he had ever encountered. Sensing how her appearance had affected him, a smirk came across her face as she opened one of the smaller trunks and put her used clothing inside.
He placed his hands on his hips and stepped around the end of the wagon to face her. “Why did you do that last night? Now we’re defenseless.”
An expression of anxiety came across her face. “I wanted you to prove to yourself, that a man can function quite well without guns.” She gulped loudly as her anxiety appeared to increase in its intensity.
He stepped slightly closer. “But those three men… I recall that they still had their guns, now didn’t they?”
She bit her upper lip for a moment. “But this morning, here we are safe and sound, and last night you figured out a way to avoid violence. You should be proud of yourself for that.”
He reached his arms out and placed his hands on her shoulders. “And if one of our horses had made some noise? If they would have decided to get off the road and look around for somebody? If they had decided to go to the stream to get some water or to water their horses?”
She swallowed loudly again, and stood up straighter with her chin slightly elevated. “And none of those things happened, did they? Most of all, Major… Morrow… Sir… nobody was hurt.”
He leaned in a little bit. “Except for you.”
Her eyes grew large again. “What do you…?” Before she could finish her sentence, Charles had picked her up in his arms and was carrying her as she beat up on his chest and shoulders. Moments later, they had arrived at the back of the wagon bed, and now she was slung over his shoulder as he unlatched the wooden gate on the back.
The fact that she was beating on his back with her fists seemed to be of little consequence or bother to him as he reached to her hips and lifted her from his shoulder and placed her face down and dangling over the end of the wagon bed. She was squealing in protest and fruitlessly kicking her bare feet back and forth, failing to touch the ground by several inches as she reached back in futility to stop Charles from tossing her dress and petticoat up on her back and slowly, and almost ceremoniously, lowering her knickers to her knees.
All the while, she was shouting pledges of vengeance, most of which involved actions by her influential parents and Charles’ imprisonment, or court-martial, or hanging in that order. And the first time that his hand slammed forcefully down upon her bare bottom, she vowed to end his life with her own bare hands.
A second and then a third bright red handprint joined the first, and she was suddenly crying, much more an effect of her anger and humiliation than from the pain. At the same time, as the hand continued to crack across her substantial bottom, the pain began to take her mind off how angry and embarrassed she was.
It was obvious to her that Charles was no longer sensing a need for their silence, as the sound of his hand impacting her backside would have been loud enough to draw attention, even without the howls and protests being projected at the top of her lungs. But still, the spanking continued at a slow, steady cadence, that she thought would never end. She was finally sobbing from the spanking that was unlike any she had received in her lifetime of pushing the tolerance limits of others around her.
Suddenly, without a word she felt her bloomers being pulled back up to her waist, and she was once again slung over Charles’ shoulder, and then moments later unceremoniously and painfully plopped upon the wagon seat. Even that made her squeal in pain, as the padded seat really did not seem that welcoming at that particular moment.
She stood bolt upright and energetically rubbed her backside as tears flowed down her cheeks. In the meantime, Charles walked around and hopped up on to the wagon seat, then clicked his tongue to signal for the horses to take off. He also gave the reins a
shake and called out to the horses, watching in satisfaction and amusement as the movement caused Emily to fall onto the seat, resulting in another squeal of discomfort.
As he glanced around at the surroundings, he tended to not notice that she was simultaneously rubbing her backside and glaring at him as if to wish for his immediate demise. As the wagon went on up the road, she finally gave up on forcing him to pay attention to her, so she moaned a loud huff, turned away from him with her arms crossed and clenched her teeth to cope with her burning backside.
Chapter Three
As they traveled on slowly and in silence, they began to come to occasional homes and farms along the road, and Charles began to hope that the bandits they had encountered were the ones that had been causing the concern of the people they had met along the way. He also recalled that they should soon be coming up on an Army outpost, and he assumed that he could pick up new weapons.
A half an hour later, off in the distance he could see smoke from campfires, and the United States flag over an encampment. He knew that it was likely to be the last Army outpost before reaching the Garrison at the Ohio River, at least one more day away.
He felt a sense of relief in knowing that he was nearing a friendly military encampment. And although she would never have admitted it, Emily was feeling a sense of relief in knowing that they were back in a more populated area. That was, until they pulled the wagon into the encampment, and a Captain walked up to greet them and saluted Charles. “Sir, I want to let you know that just to the north of here there have been a couple of skirmishes with a renegade band… a mixture of Rebel troops and some local Confederate sympathizers.
“There are about a dozen of them, and they seem to just disappear in the woods. We’ve lost a couple of men when we sent out patrols to get them. Another thing, they have been marauding around some of the farms near here. A couple of times, they took what they wanted and killed the people they found… three men and two women, so far.”