The Blue Hat and the Red Rose: A Historical Romance

by Forest,Lynn

  She leaned her head against his chest once more. “What surprised me both times was that you stopped when you did. Because you would have had good cause to keep on spanking me for what I had done.”

  He moaned softly. “But it's only worth doing if it's going to make a difference.”

  She laughed in response. “Well, I haven't stolen your horse again or thrown your new guns in the river. So, I guess that it worked, didn't it?”

  His expression was suddenly serious. “Emily, I would like to spend more time with you when I'm done at Camp Harrison. But I need to have your assurance, in whatever way you want to give it to me during the next year or however long the war lasts, that you'll take my concerns for your safety and well being to heart. It's the only way we can ever make things work out.”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “I have to get you home, and we’re going to take the early crossing. You go ahead and go upstairs and get some sleep. I'll see you early in the morning.”

  She groaned in disappointment, and they kissed one more time. He then watched the vision of the beautiful young woman in the red and white checked calico dress, who could possibly be his future, go up the stairs.

  Out of habit and restlessness, Charles was awake and dressed before it was sunlight. He went down the stairs and walked out of the inn and went to the stable and retrieved the wagon and the horses, then tied them to the hitching post outside the front door. He then went back upstairs and tapped lightly on the door to Emily's room, only to hear a muffled indistinguishable response in return.

  He opened the door slowly, then walked over to the bed to rouse her. Before he touched his hand to her shoulder to wake her gently, he could not help but to appreciate for the moment the sight of her in the crinoline gown, as she must have gotten warm during the night and tossed most of the covers aside. He gently touched her shoulder, and then shook her softly until her eyes reluctantly fluttered open. “I wanted to let you sleep, but now we have to get ready to cross the river.”

  She groaned once more, then set up and her eyes were suddenly filling with tears. Charles sat down on the bed next to her. “Tell me what's wrong.”

  She turned away from him and started to wipe away the tears. “I woke up in the middle of the night, and I just started feeling all of this doubt that I can really change my ways. I don't like to be controlled. Even when somebody's trying to protect me. I doubt that in the long run, you would find me to be worth the trouble.”

  He pulled her into a tight hug. “You know that I'm falling in love with you, against all common sense and reason.”

  She began to cry once again. “And you know that I am falling in love with you, too. But it just may not be right for us.” She leaned her head back and wiped tears from her face. “If the day comes when I can think of some way to prove to myself and to you that I'm ready to accept your protection and judgment, I will be the happiest woman you have ever seen. I'm afraid that this morning, I'm feeling those familiar desires to make my own way.”

  Charles leaned down and kissed her once again. “I will be hoping that for every moment of every day things will work out for us. And each of us will just have to deal with however things turn out. But for right now, you need to get dressed, so that we don't miss the barge to cross the river.”

  He stood up and walked slowly out of the room, then stood and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the doorsill. He could not remember the last time he had so struggled to hold back tears, but in spite of all logic, he very much wanted the beautiful and petite woman on the other side of the door, although he had met her just days before.

  Several minutes after he had exited the room, the door opened and Emily emerged carrying a small bag, looking beautiful to Charles even though her eyes were red from crying. They went downstairs, and seeing that they were running late, the innkeeper's wife handed them a bag with some bread, cheese and dried beef for them to eat along the way.

  They went outside, and as she looked at the wagon her uncle had given her for her trip home, she seemed to hesitate, then took a deep breath and stepped down off the porch and allowed Charles to help her into the wagon, his own horse still trailing behind. Charles guided the wagon to where a large ramp met the dock and allowed wagons to be driven down onto the deck of the large flat-bottomed boat.

  Just as they were to drive on the ramp, a soldier ran up with an envelope in his hand, “Miss Emily McMannus? I have a telegraph message for you. Have a good day, Miss.” Emily nodded and took the envelope, but did not open it. As he guided the wagon and the horses down the ramp, Charles could see that Emily was distant in her demeanor, and he conjectured that she was finding it easier for them to say goodbye if she put some emotional space between them in the process.

  In fact, neither of them spoke to each other as they watched the last crates being loaded onto the barge, then saw crewmembers begin to push away from the dock just as the small steam engine roared to life to propel the small paddlewheel that churned the water at the end of the boat. Charles watched as Emily walked to lean against the railing at the front of the boat and opened the envelope. He was standing just several feet away, being careful to not approach her as she was obviously wanting to read the message privately.

  He watched in fascination as she read, her face suddenly turning dark red, so red that he was concerned she may have received some bad news about a family member, but his concerns were alleviated when a wide smile came across her face and she put her fingers to her lips to stifle a giggle. She walked over toward Charles, closing the envelope and sticking it inside the bodice of her dress.

  She had a look on her face that he could not decide was irritation or amusement. “It seems that my aunt and uncle fully informed my parents about my attempt to travel home by myself.”

  He looked at her with a mild grin. “Does that surprise you?”

  Now she betrayed a hint of a smile. “Not really.” They stood several feet apart at the front of the boat, watching the city of Cincinnati growing near. Charles was really not eager for the final part of the journey to commence, but at the same time the ride across the river seemed to take forever before the engine was stopped and the large barge slowly drifted toward the dock

  On that side of the river, a large and wide wooden deck was lowered from the dock into the boat, and as Emily watched with an expression on her face Charles could not read, he led the wagon and horses up onto the dock and waited for the young woman to join him. Not certain what he was doing, Emily watched as he hopped down off the wagon, the reins still in his hand, and handed the leather strips to her. “I guess from here on, I will ride alongside of you so that you can get used to this new team and wagon with me nearby to help you, just in case.”

  She nodded, but he could hear an impatient huff in her voice. “Remember, I am very good with horses.” He had not heard that tone of voice in a couple of days. She was obviously trying to pull herself away emotionally.

  “I understand, but your uncle told me that he had purchased these horses and this wagon brand-new just for your trip home. So, I thought you would like to have control of the wagon.” She appeared to want to say something, a hint of a snarl on her face, but she just nodded and hopped up onto the seat of the wagon while he mounted his horse and they began to ride up the hill into Cincinnati. They went past the aromatic and endless enclosures of hogs and cattle, passed a number of slaughterhouses and numerous small industrial buildings from which odors of smoke, grease and burning coal seemed to fill the air.

  It was only an hour ride from the river to the McMannus farm, and Emily halted the wagon when she saw her home in the far distance, a tiny speck of white set against a green expanse of fields. For Charles, it was perhaps the longest hour of his life. The only words exchanged between them involved the roads and the distance to go. And as she sat and gazed off into the distance at her destination, Emily turned toward Charles and began to speak, her voice strained with emotion. “Thank you. I'm going to go the rest of t
he way on my own, and you can go ahead and head to your new camp.”

  She went to pick up the reins again, but Charles nearly startled her with his urgent tone of voice, “Please, no… Emily. I have orders to take you home, and I plan to fulfill my assignment.” But to his dismay, she gave the reins a shake and called out to the horses, and in a moment she was recklessly rambling down the rugged and rough road with the horses pulling the wagon at a full gallop.

  Clenching his teeth in anger and disappointment, Charles began a pursuit. His own fast horse did not take long to catch up with the wagon, but his shouts to Emily to stop were ignored as they continued to barrel down the road towards the now nearby farm. Emily looked over at him with anger in her eyes, then picked up a previously untouched buggy whip from the floor beneath the driver's seat and began to crack the horses over the rump to make them go faster.

  She could hear Charles virtually growl at her as they sped side-by-side on the road that was so rough Charles was certain the wagon wheel was going to come loose at any moment as he shouted to her, “That buggy whip is giving me a brilliant idea… I said to pull over… now.” Instead, she cracked the whip to the horses once again, and called out, “Yeeeeahh!” and the horses accelerated even more.

  Finally, concerned that attempting to stop or slow her could only increase the chances of her being injured, he finally slowed his horse down, and when Emily looked back to see that he was no longer in pursuit, she slowed the wagon down and he rode up next to her as they neared the long dirt lane that led to her lifetime home. “I'm going to stop at the end of the lane and watch until you pull this wagon up to the front of your house. Then I can tell my new commanding officer that I had fulfilled my mission.” That was the first thing that made Emily stop. She closed her eyes and nodded her head, and began to bite her lips while she turned the wagon into the lane.

  Charles sat rigid and motionless for two minutes as he watched the vision of the already small woman grow tinier as the distance between them increased. He pulled his binoculars out of his saddlebag, sitting on his horse like a sentry until he saw her hop down off the wagon and be engulfed in the arms of two people who came out to greet her. He turned his horse away, and what he did not see was Emily standing and looking in the distance, the reins once again in her hand as she argued with herself, oblivious to the welcoming homecoming words of her parents.

  Chapter Five

  At noon the following day, Charles was at Camp Harrison reviewing the training guidelines for the several hundred new recruits now in his charge. Immediately upon arrival, he had held a meeting with the training sergeants who would have the direct instruction responsibilities, but under his watch and supervision. As he expected, his first day was a lengthy one, not settling into his cot in the officers' tent until nearly midnight.

  He spent every moment either reviewing what the sergeants were teaching the new recruits, or reviewing the guidelines to make suggestions for changes. The next morning, he was up just before daylight broke, as he was each of his first mornings at Harrison. And each night, it was near midnight before he would retire. He decided that it was best, that he be so busy on the heels of his adventure with Emily.

  Nonetheless, although his work was a distraction, he found that it was not possible to have his mind completely free of her image and his memories of all that had taken place over a memorable few days. But the days at Camp Harrison seemed to be indistinguishable, one from the other. And, all the while, there was news of how the few remaining functioning Confederate armies were near the point of collapse.

  There were rumors among the senior officers that Camp Harrison may be shut down, and Charles felt weary at the prospect of being reassigned to another post yet again. Each morning when he woke at Harrison, he woke within a one-hour ride of his cattle farm that was being tended by two of, his too much older, cousins.

  The possibility of him being reassigned was made more feasible as he had been promoted to the rank of Colonel, greatly enhancing the possibility of his being transferred. And he had no idea how quickly that was about to change. It was noon on his tenth day there that he was simply walking to the drill field, as one of the companies of recruits was having its first day of marching while actually carrying their rifles.

  He did smell smoke as he walked by the small log building that served as the armory, something that would bring alarm to anyone who knew what was stored inside. For the sake of security, the small building that housed weapons and gunpowder had few windows to allow in the light, and sometimes while searching for small items it was necessary to use a lantern. Unfortunately, a lantern can be knocked over and broken, allowing burning kerosene to spill. And that was what caused a keg of gunpowder to explode, and to send a corner of the building flying away in splintered pieces.

  Charles woke the next day on a cot in the medical tent, his head throbbing in pain. He reached up slowly to touch his forehead and what seemed to be the source of the pain, when he withdrew his fingertips, they were sticky with drying blood that had soaked the large wide bandage around his head. He was just about to try sitting up when an unshaven older man, in a tattered white shirt, walked up to him and sat down on the stool next to his cot.

  As his mind cleared, he remembered having been introduced to the man as a doctor in charge of sick call. The doctor laughed and put his hand on Charles' shoulder and pressed him back down to relax on the cot. “Another day, Colonel. You've been out for nearly a day, so maybe this evening we can get you up in a chair. You remember what happened?”

  Charles nodded slowly. “Anyone else hurt? Anyone killed?”

  The doctor laughed and shook his head. “You were the only one lucky enough to be nearby. And I'm going to tell the commander that you need to go on leave for a while, just to be sure. I understand you are a local boy. I'm going to suggest that you go home for a while. The General rarely comes around here, and he always follows what I suggest. So, in a couple of days, I think you can be gone for a while.”

  The doctor patted Charles on the shoulder and stood up, then halted. “Wait, I think there's a letter for you that came yesterday right after you got knocked silly by that explosion.” He rummaged through a file folder on a small table nearby, then pulled out an envelope and handed it to Charles. He then walked away slowly, traveling several feet before sitting down next to the only other occupant of the tent.

  The envelope was addressed simply to, “Major Charles Morrow… Camp Harrison, Ohio.” Then he looked at the return address, and felt his pulse begin to race in anxiety and anticipation.

  He looked around as if someone had handed him something forbidden, then slowly and carefully tore the end from the envelope and pulled out a letter written with remarkable penmanship and began reading:

  Dear Charles, I don't know how many days it will take for this letter to reach you. I just hope that it does get to you, and finds you well and safe. He began to chuckle at that wish.

  First of all, I want to apologize for the way I acted at the end of the journey. I wasn't coping with my mixture of emotions very well. Of course, I doubt that you have any possible ideas as to how you would like to address that behavior the next time that you have me at arm's length.

  Speaking of deserved thrashings, I wrote this letter the morning after I arrived home. You will probably approve of the fact that I am writing this letter standing up at the dresser in my bedroom, as I am unable to sit down, a state that I will likely be in for most of today. You may remember seeing me receive a telegram just as we were about to cross the river.

  That telegram was from my mother, informing me that Aunt Catherine and Uncle William had made them aware of the manner in which I had decided to begin the journey home. Mother assured me that the first morning after I arrived home that she and I and the Red Rose hairbrush were going to retreat to a secluded room and have, what she referred to as a lengthy and long overdue reunion. And that we did. Still under their roof, and all that, remember.

  After she'd tanned my
hide quite thoroughly, we had a long talk, and I told her about nearly everything that had taken place during the journey. Perhaps I went into more detail and was more candid with her then you would prefer, but for a woman who has never even met you, you are very much in her favor.

  I think it was my description of our skinny-dipping incident, and how that unfolded, that most impressed her about you. You know how mothers are. I wish that I could say that I have everything figured out and know exactly what I want. But, even though we only spent a few days together, you have to know me well enough to understand that I can be a tad complicated. Let me just say that I do indeed love you, and find myself wishing you were here with me right now.

  I am sorry for how I acted after we left Covington, but I seemed to be unsure as to what to do with all of the feelings. I am too unsettled and confused to make any promises, but I know for certain that I would like to see you again. If you still feel the same way, nothing would make me happier. Love, Emily

  Charles folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. He did not know where to put it, as he finally realized that all of his clothing had been removed, so he simply placed it on his chest beneath the blanket. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to try to fathom the situation. For the moment, he felt incapable of coping with the matter.

  After two years of constant fright and horror, he had finally met a young woman who captivated his heart and his imagination. But she brought with her so many complications that it was all beyond his capacity to reason out at the time. Battle after battle, scenes of carnage appeared in his consciousness one after the other, and the fixations of trying to understand this young woman exceeded his ability to think. As she had referred to herself, she was very complicated.

  Two days after he had come back to consciousness, Charles was steady on his feet and able to walk around the grounds of Camp Harrison without being accompanied. He was only twenty-five years of age, and as with his previous wounds, he healed more quickly and solidly than would have an older man. He felt that he had sufficiently recovered from the blow to the head that he would trust his judgment enough to write a letter to Emily in response.