Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

by T. Novan

  By the time he had finished his rounds, he was exhilarated. It was clear that the efforts to unify these two very disparate forces were starting to work. The men were excited. They were functioning as teams, with each company working together to field the best, most competitive team they could in the upcoming games. He was also a little more relaxed than usual, as he had shared a glass of beer, even though a small one, with just about every group of men he had visited.

  He slipped into the house quietly, as many of the inhabitants were already abed, and pulled his boots off at the foot of the stairs. Carrying them in one hand, and using the other to grasp the balustrade, as his balance was a little impaired, he made his way up to Rebecca’s room.

  She was sitting before the fire, dressed in her nightgown and a robe, brushing her long hair that glowed red in the fire’s flickering light. To Charlie, she looked like an angel, with a halo of red-gold light around her. His hands itched to touch her, his heart hammered in his chest.

  She turned to see him enter the room on less than steady on his feet. She stood and slowly walked toward him. "Charlie, are you all right?"

  "Absolutely, my dear. I simply shared a glass or two with the men as I chatted with them." In a softer voice, he added. "You are utterly bewitching tonight, my love."

  She took a step back from him after getting a good whiff of the beer he had been drinking with his men. Her stomach rolled and she felt dizzy. "I am glad you had a good time." She tried not to sound as upset as she felt, but visions of Gaines' drunken fumbling came flooding back to her.

  Charlie watched Rebecca backing away from him in confusion. The expression on her face was one that he normally associated with an unpleasant smell. Do I have something on me? I took my boots off, but did I sit in horse droppings? He looked down at himself, a little befuddled. No, there was nothing untoward on his uniform. "Rebecca? Did I do something wrong?"

  She shook her head, remaining silent but turned back to her table and took her seat as she tried to keep her tears from falling. "Of course not." She choked, trying desperately to keep the emotion from her voice but failing miserably.

  Charlie shook himself, trying to clear his head. This was not what he expected. The evening had been highly successful. His men were in good cheer and they were coming together as a team. Christmas was ahead of them and he and Rebecca were about to celebrate it together for the first time. By all accounts, everything should be fine. But the evidence in front of him said something was not fine.

  Moving very slowly and speaking very gently, he approached Rebecca. "Darling, tell me what is wrong. You know if I can, I will fix it. If I cannot fix it, at least we will share it and by doing so, halve the pain." By the time he finished his little speech, he was standing behind her, softly caressing her shoulder.

  She swallowed hard and tried not to flinch at his touch. She realized there was no reason to have such a reaction; as always, his touch was kind and tender. "Beer," she whispered quietly.

  Beer? It made no sense to him. Of course he had been drinking beer. That is what his men drank at night. Well, it did have a strong smell. While he had not had that much to drink, and had certainly come to bed more inebriated from his evenings of chatting with Whitman or Polk over a few glasses of brandy, he probably did smell of it. "You have a problem with beer?" Judiciously, he backed away from her. Perhaps the smell offended her. She might not like the smell of beer, but he still could not figure out why it should make her cry. Charlie backed up to the door, and stood there looking for the world like a child being sent to his room and not knowing why. "Please tell me what is wrong, dear."

  Keeping her head down and her eyes on the hands in her lap, she turned and offered the only explanation she could. "He drank beer."

  He? He who? Oh, hell. Gaines would drink beer then come to her. It had to be. She associated the smell of beer with the pain of Gaines ’ unwelcome attentions.

  "Darling, I am sorry. I had no idea……" Charlie trailed off, at a loss as to what to do or say to make things different. He had climbed the stairs wanting Rebecca with every fiber in his body. Yet in the matter of a moment, somehow, he knew he was no better than Gaines. "I will leave you until I no longer smell of something that reminds you of so much pain."

  Charlie turned to leave, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed with shame and pain. A few beers, a night with the men and he had turned into that which he most detested. He had turned into the same kind of man his father was, as Gaines was.

  The voice in his head was back in force. See. It is in you, too, like a poison, like an insidious evil that you can never escape. You do not deserve this woman, and you know it. Especially now, if the first thing you think of after a couple of beers is to come and bed her, regardless of her feelings, regardless of what has been done to her in the past.

  Rebecca rose from her table and moved to the bed. Every single ghost that haunted her told her to let Charlie go and sleep off his drunk elsewhere. But her heart made different demands. She got up and went to the door, peering around to see if Charlie was still upstairs. He was standing at the top of the steps, looking down them as if he were trying to decide if he could manage them.

  "Charlie?"

  "Yes, Rebecca?" He responded without turning around. If he had, she would have seen the tears in his eyes that blurred the stairs before him.

  "Please, please come back. I am sorry. I did not mean to..." She stopped, not sure what she wanted to say. "Please come to bed."

  He took a deep breath. "So am I, dear. I did not know. Let me get cleaned up and I will join you."

  "No. Please come now. You are not him. I should know that. I should know that what was wrong with him will not be wrong with you. You have never been anything but kind and loving to me, Charlie. Please, just come back."

  Charlie sat abruptly on the top step of the stairs. In a low voice, made rough by suppressed tears, he started to confess. "No, dear. You do not understand. I am exactly like him. I had a few beers with my men and all I wanted to do was take you to bed. I had no more thought of what you wanted and needed than I did of what Shannon or Black Jack wants when I put them out to breed." In a much smaller, broken voice he added, "I have become what I tried to escape. I am so sorry."

  Rebecca took a few tentative steps toward Charlie. Some sense of fear remained that his temper would snap and she would be slapped back. But her soul told her to move forward, to offer support and comfort to its other half. Slowly she sat down next to him, wrapping the hem of her nightgown around her feet to keep them warm and resting her chin on her knees. "I love you, Charlie."

  "I love you, Rebecca. I would give anything to have not hurt you tonight. I promise, I will not drink beer any more, since it bothers you, darling." Charlie was babbling and Rebecca knew it. Every so often, he simply turned into a scared, miserable child, trying so hard to please and so afraid of failing.

  She reached over and took his hand, bringing it back and holding it tight in her lap. "I never loved him, Charlie. I have never been in love before," she smiled at him and brushed the hair back from his forehead with her free hand, "until now. I know you did not mean to hurt me and, to be honest, I had never realized what the smell of beer would do to me. I did not know I would react that way."

  Charlie did not say anything. He sat very still. As she caressed his forehead, his eyes closed, and he leaned into her hand. She could feel his pulse pounding in his wrist and see it in the veins at his temples.

  "Now let us go back to our room and get ready for bed. Everything is fine, my love."

  Charlie stood and followed Rebecca back into the bedroom. He went immediately to his side of the room, stripped his clothing off and bundled it into a tight wad, which he carried back into the sitting room and left by the door for Lizbet or Jocko to pick up in the morning. Rebecca grew a bit concerned, as Charlie’s bedtime washing seemed to go on for longer than usual. When she finally did climb into the bed, the smell of mint was quite strong. Charlie lay still, remaining on
the far side of the bed and facing away. "Good night, love. Sleep well," she said, in the same subdued voice from the stairs.

  Rebecca sighed and rolled over to Charlie's side of the bed. She draped her arm over her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "I love you, Charlie. Good night, my love."

  --*--

  Wednesday, D ecember 21, 1864

  Reg was carefully polishing the woodwork in the front hall. Preparing the house for Christmas was a tradition that Beulah was strict about. The house had to look perfect for the callers who would inevitably troop through to see how much Miss Rebecca was benefiting from the Union Army's presence. A loud rapping on the front door startled him out of the trance he had settled into as he carefully rubbed bees’ wax into the balustrade.

  He hastily stuffed the rag he was using into his pocket, smoothed his hair as best he could and opened the door. Before him stood a short, wiry man with close-cropped beard and hair, dressed in a very dusty Yankee uniform. There were three stars on the man's shoulder.

  "Colonel Redmond, please."

  Reg closed his jaw with a snap. "Yes, Sir. Come in, Sir. Can I get you something, Sir? Who shall I tell him is calling, Sir?" Reg knew he was babbling, but the sight of those stars, plus the brass on the shoulders of the small group of men behind this little man had put him into a panic.

  "You may tell him General Philip Sheridan is calling."

  "Yes, Sir, General, Sir. Would you step into the parlor, Sir, and let me build a fire for you and your men? Are you sure I cannot get you or your men something, Sir? Some tea, or maybe a brandy or..." Reg trailed off, realizing that he could not open the door to the parlor, bow, pull on his forelock and look like a rational, properly trained house servant all at the same time.

  "Is there a problem?"

  "Oh, no, Sir. Right away, Sir. I will just go and get him, Sir."

  At that moment, the door from the small family dining room at the back of the hall opened and Charlie entered, carrying young Em. He had just finished feeding her lunch, a significant amount of which had found its way onto the front of his blue frock coat.

  Charlie looked into Phil Sheridan’s eyes and nearly panicked. A slow blush worked it way from Charlie’s ears across his face. "Good day, General. I was not expecting you, sir."

  The General did an extremely good job of hiding his amusement at seeing one of his finest officers covered in unrecognizable mush. He took a deep breath, "Apparently not, Colonel Redmond."

  Charlie first tried to salute, but with a squirming child in his arms, it was less than effective. He then started to offer his free hand to the General, and noticed that it was still lightly coated with mashed apples and cereal. He hastily wiped it off on the skirt of his coat and settled Em more securely in the crook of his left arm, to complete the greeting.

  While Sheridan had managed to keep a straight face, Colonel McCauley was not so successful. A muffled snicker could be heard coming from behind the hand that McCauley had clamped over his mouth. Other members of Sheridan’s entourage could not resist the impulse. Here was one of the most pristine, "regular army" member of all of Sheridan’s staff, covered in gruel, with a squirming child in his arms, a blush that would do credit to a school girl and no hope of regaining his regimental dignity in sight.

  "Um, Reg. Would you please take Em to Miss Rebecca? And while you are at it, please ask Beulah to bring us some lunch." He turned to Sheridan. "I assume, General, that you have not yet eaten?"

  The General removed his hat and looked the Colonel in the eye. "Lunch would be most welcome."

  Charlie handed the squirming child to Reg. Or rather, he tried to hand the child to Reg.

  Em shook her head furiously and grabbed Charlie's collar. "No! Em stay with Papa."

  At that moment, a voice floated down from the second floor. "Charlie Redmond. Where is that child? It is time and past time for her bath and her nap."

  The snickering got even more pronounced. Not only was Charlie covered in a child’s lunch he was also obviously seriously henpecked. This was a sad fate for the Army of the Shenandoah’s premiere cavalry commander, a man they had all thought was a confirmed bachelor.

  "Have you other plans, Colonel?" the General asked, while trying to contain the grin threatening to break across his lips.

  "Um, no, General. Actually, I just finished lunch myself and was going to get cleaned up and go back to my office." He turned towards the stairs and raised his voice. "Miss Rebecca. Rebecca, you might wish to join us, as we have guests." He continued to hold the child, who had attached herself like a small leech to his coat collar and was peeking over her own shoulder at the men in her hall.

  Rebecca dried her hands on a towel she had prepared for Em's bath. Before she even poked her head into the hall, she called. "Guests? Oh, who in the name of God would have the bad manners to call just before a holiday?"

  "My commanding officer and his staff." Charlie’s response was very flat, devoid of any expression or emotion at all. Rebecca had learned that tone was a very bad sign.

  Rebecca took a deep breath and quickly glanced into the mirror as she removed her apron and tossed it aside. Oh wonderful. Charlie is going to have my hide for this. "I will be right there, Colonel Redmond."

  Reg, in the meantime, had retreated it to the kitchen, where he had helped Sarah and Beulah quickly assemble trays with ham, breads, pickles, and cheese, as well as a huge pot of hot tea for the officers. They carried the rough lunch into the main dining room, and threw open the doors, inviting the officers in to eat. Charlie let out a very relieved sigh. Now, if only Jocko had seen them coming and managed to grab a clean coat for him, he might be able to rescue some shred of dignity.

  As Reg opened the doors to the dining room, Rebecca descended the stairs. The gentlemen of Sheridan’s entourage all drew themselves up to greet the lady of the house. Snickers were muffled, although several of the men could not help continuing to grin.

  "General Sheridan, Gentlemen, may I present our hostess and my fiancéée, Mrs. Rebecca Gaines?"

  Rebecca tried to present herself as the proper hostess and a lady worthy of the distinguished Colonel. The very first thing she did was relieve him of Emily and then smile at the General. "General Sheridan, Gentlemen, good day to you, Sirs, and welcome to my home."

  The gentlemen bowed politely to the lovely, somewhat flushed young woman before them. The child in her arms squirmed and reached out for Charlie, fussing and whimpering. "Papa. Want Papa!"

  Charlie stepped in. "Gentlemen, we have put together a hasty lunch for you. If you would step this way, you can ease your hunger while Mrs. Gaines and I attend to this particular... small, and very demanding citizen."

  "That is all right, Colonel Redmond; please attend to the General and his men. I will see to our Em and return shortly."

  "Thank you, Miss Rebecca." With a look of relief, Charlie turned back to the officers in the hall and led them into the dining room. Beulah had thought to provide a pile of warm, damp towels in a basket on the sideboard to let the men wipe the dust from their hands and faces. "It is a chill day, gentlemen. There is hot tea, hot cloths, and some fine brandy to warm yourselves." Reg was tending the fire, stoking it from glowing embers to a warm flame. "So, General, to what do we owe the honor of your presence? Will you be joining us for the Christmas feast?"

  "I will indeed, Colonel. I wanted to see for myself this Eden you had found for the winter. Your letters about the beauty of the land made me desire a see it for myself. I also wanted to see for myself the condition of the civilians you have told me about, and to see what progress you have made in unifying your regiment."

  McCauley cleared his throat. "Um, General, there was the matter of that paperwork you were waiting on, as well."

  Sheridan smiled a dour half smile. "Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me. Just a little bit of administrative hoopla to attend to, I think."

  Charlie looked at Sheridan with a puzzled expression. Paperwork? He was certain that he and Polk had submit
ted everything that they were supposed to. But then, the ongoing adventure of trying to get quality supplies from the Quartermaster General was always a challenge.

  "Well, sir, I am sure we can clear up any questions you may have. I will send for Polk while you eat."

  "No, Colonel, do not bother Polk. You will be responsible for answering the questions I have." The General turned his back to the Colonel and picked up a plate as he looked over the food placed before them. "Looks like your Mrs. Gaines is a very capable hostess, Redmond."

  "Yes, sir, she is. She has found homes and productive work for a number of refugees and has helped to organize the ladies of the community to do what they can help themselves and the refugees survive the winter. It has been hard for her, I confess, for some of the locals see her as a traitor for associating with us, but she has been magnificent."

  Sheridan picked a few things for his plate and slowly turned to face his officer. "Your fiancéée, aye, Colonel Redmond?"

  Charlie drew himself up to his most erect and dignified, an effect that would have been a perfect demonstration of his pride in his lady, had it not been marred by the now drying and flaking bits of gruel on his uniform left from Em’s lunch. "Yes, sir. My fiancéée. Mrs. Gaines has done me the honor of consenting to be my wife. We plan to announce it officially at the New Year, although many of the local folks already know. It will be a small wedding, probably before the spring campaign, as is appropriate for her second marriage."

  "I suppose congratulations are in order then. Will the new Mrs. Redmond be joining you when you go west?"

  "When I go west, sir? I had understood that General Wilson was to go west and I was to remain here." There was a hint of a squeak in Charlie’s voice. McCauley and Brigadier General Merritt, standing behind Sheridan at the buffet, overheard the conversation and snorted to one another.