Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  “Are ya still willin’ to go with me, Johnny?” she asked. “Because I wouldn’t want to press ya…or inconvenience ya in any way.”

  Johnny stood and placed the piece of wood he’d been whittling on the window ledge nearby. He tucked the knife he’d been using in his boot and smiled at Vivianna. “It ain’t no inconvenience at all,” he told her. “I could use a good walk to town. It ain’t good for me to sit around doin’ nothin’ all day long.”

  “You never do nothin’ all day long, Johnny Tabor,” Vivianna said. “You work circles around the rest of us.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said as he stepped off the porch.

  Vivianna stepped down from the porch as well. “Are ya ready?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

  “All right then. Let’s get to town.”

  As they walked down the road to town, Vivianna knew Johnny’s pace was slow by way of what his stride normally was. She took two or three steps to every one of his, and she knew he was attempting to keep his pace measured for her sake.

  It was a beautiful day! It was early; therefore the heat was not too miserable yet. The morning birds were busy trilling and pulling worms and bugs from the ground and grass. Everything smelled green and fresh, and Vivianna was rejuvenated.

  “I really should walk to town more often,” she said aloud.

  Johnny frowned. “I can’t say I’ve known ya to go to town since I’ve been here. Not once.”

  Vivianna shrugged. “I…I just haven’t wanted to go. I don’t quite know why.” A small hint of a shiver traveled down Vivianna’s spine. She began to think that perhaps the reason she avoided town was because Florence always ignited memories of her family. Still, she pushed such thoughts aside.

  “Tell me about Texas, Johnny,” she said—desperate, as always, to keep from thinking of her family. “Is it a pretty place?”

  “I think so,” he said. “It’s warm but dry. Where my family lives now, a body can see for miles and miles. I think that’s why I’m always feelin’ as if I’m livin’ in a hole here. I thought I’d be driven mad in Georgia. Trees and trees and more trees was all there was most of the time. Still, on occasion, we’d ride up over a hill and I could see for a space…but it was nothin’ like Texas.” He paused and smiled with obvious reflection. “Ain’t nothin’ like wakin’ up in the mornin’, steppin’ out on the porch to see the cattle sprinkled over the hillside, and inhalin’ that fresh mornin’ air.”

  Vivianna smiled. It was obvious Johnny loved his home, and the visions he described made her wish she could see Texas one day.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said. “You said you have brothers and sisters. Two of each?”

  He nodded. “Yep. Jeannie, she’s the oldest. Then comes me. Then there’s Oakley and Carthal, and my baby sister is Ruby.”

  Vivianna smiled. “And your parents?”

  “My mama’s name is Adelaide, and Daddy’s Preston.”

  Vivianna sighed. She liked the names owned by the members of Johnny’s family, and she told him. “I like their names! Every one of them.”

  Johnny chuckled. “Well, I’m glad.”

  “Now tell me about yourself, Johnny Tabor,” she said.

  “There ain’t much to tell,” came his response. As Vivianna moved the box of Justin’s letters from one arm to the other, he said, “Let me tote that for ya.”

  She didn’t pause. Handing the box to him, she said, “Well, I’m sure there is much to tell. Tell me about yourself.”

  Johnny chuckled and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t know what I can say that might be interestin’ to ya, Vivi. I’m just a regular feller who grew up in Texas.”

  “Oh, there’s more to you than that,” she said. Yet her curiosity increased suddenly, and she asked, “Did ya have a girl when ya left for the war?” She frowned, disturbed by her next thought. “Do ya still have a girl?”

  Johnny chuckled, shook his head, and said, “No, ma’am! I did not leave a girl behind me when I left.”

  She looked to him. “I find that rather hard to believe.”

  “Why?” he asked, his brow puckering with puzzlement.

  “Because you’re so…” Vivianna began. Yet she stopped herself short—just short of telling him how charming and desirable he was.

  “Because I’m so what?” he prodded, however.

  “Well, you know,” she stammered. “You…you’re so…so very nice.” It was a weak explanation at best.

  Johnny laughed—wholeheartedly laughed for a moment.

  “What’s so amusin’?’’ she asked. She giggled for the mere fact that his laughter was contagious. “You are nice, Johnny! Look what you’ve done for Justin…for Savannah Turner, for Nate and Willy.” She paused and felt a blush brush her cheeks as she added, “Look how nice ya are to me.”

  “I ain’t so nice as ya might think, Vivi,” he told her. “First off, I owed Justin a great debt…a debt I have yet to repay. Second, Savannah needed help. The barn and all were near to fallin’ into a heap of rubble. Nate and Willy…well, they’re just boys. How could a body not play awhile with them two?” He looked to her, his smile fading. “As for you…to be honest, I ain’t sure in this moment that I didn’t do ya more harm than good by bringin’ Justin home to ya.”

  Vivianna glanced to him. “First off, I wasn’t even thinkin’ of you bringin’ Justin home when I said it. I was thinkin’ more on things ya do for me…things like this. Ya didn’t have to come with me this mornin’. I’m sure there are a heap of other things ya’d rather be doin’.”

  He looked at her, quirked one eyebrow, and said, “Do ya really think I’d rather be muckin’ out stalls or haulin’ water to the garden than walkin’ to town with a pretty girl?”

  Vivianna shrugged—though she smiled at the fact he’d implied she was pretty. “Maybe.” He shook his head in disbelief at her insinuation, and she giggled. She thought then of something they’d discussed previously and asked, “So ya didn’t have a girl when ya left for the fightin’?”

  “Nope.”

  “How about before ya left for the fightin’? Did ya ever have a girl?” she asked.

  Johnny nodded. “Two or three.”

  Vivianna felt oddly irritated—jealous, in fact. “What were their names?” she asked.

  Johnny chuckled. “Well, I don’t see what difference that makes.”

  “I’m just curious. I like the names of all your family members so well…it just puts me to thinkin’ on names,” she lied.

  “Well, all right,” he relented. “I was sweet on a girl named Jenny for a long while when I was about sixteen. She was a might older than me. ‘A little too friendly’ was the way my mama thought of her.”

  “She was flirtatious?”

  “That would be the kindest way to say it, yes,” he admitted. “Then Molly Brandenburg moved to town and caught my eye for a while. But she wasn’t much fun…just pretty. I suppose it was Melba Rathbone after that.”

  “Did ya kiss every one of them?” Vivianna asked. She didn’t know why she’d asked it—just that she felt angry inside and that the annoyance had spurred the question.

  “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t,” he answered, smiling suspiciously at her. “How many boys were you sweet on before Justin?” he asked.

  “Only Caleb,” Vivianna told him honestly.

  “Caleb’s a good man,” he said.

  “Yes, he is,” she agreed. He nodded his further approval of Caleb, and she was thankful he was not as discourteous as she had been—that he did not press her for details of whom she had or had not kissed.

  “Do you like Christmas, Johnny?” she asked.

  Johnny stopped and looked to her with an expression of utter bewilderment. “Do I like Christmas?” he repeated. He chuckled. “Forgive me, Miss Bartholomew…but it utterly escapes my understandin’ of how we went from you pickin’ over the girls I left behind me…to whether or not I like Christmas.”

 
; Vivianna shrugged. “I was just wonderin’. Do ya?”

  “Well, of course I like Christmas,” he laughed. “What kind of a question is that? Do I seem so hard and mean that I wouldn’t like Christmas?”

  Vivianna smiled. “Of course not! I…I was just wonderin’. So…if ya like it so much, what’s your favorite thing about it?”

  He sighed, his brow puckering as he seemed to seriously ponder her question. Finally, he answered, “Besides the actual reason for it in the first place…I’d have to say the Christmas tree and the way my mama would gussy up our house with extra candles, holly, and pine boughs. And of course, old Saint Nick always brung us an orange and a little bag of pecans and chestnuts. Most years he left us a little toy…usually a cloth doll for the girls or some sort of animal carved out of wood.” He paused and smiled. “I remember the year Daddy taught me to whittle real well. Our old mule had stomped on Daddy’s hand, and it hurt for him to do the carvin’. So he taught me to do it so that I could carve out somethin’ for Oakley and Carthal to get from Saint Nicholas. I whittled and carved out a horse for Oakley and a wolf for Carthal.” He chuckled, his eyes warm with delighting in the memory. “I remember Carthal thought the wolf I carved was a dog. I was somewhat offended…so I spent the whole of the comin’ year whittlin’ out the best big-antlered buck ya ever did see.” He glanced at her and winked. “When Carthal saw that buck the next Christmas mornin’, he said, ‘Mama! Saint Nick musta spent a month of Sundays carvin’ this buck out for me! Just for me, Mama!’ I was pretty pleased and proud of myself ’cause Daddy trusted me to do all of Saint Nick’s carvin’ after that.” He paused a moment and then added, “At least ’til I left to enlist.” He shrugged. “I suppose it was all right I left. By then Oakley and Carthal were old enough to understand just who St. Nick’s master whittler really was.”

  It was a thoroughly endearing response! Far more wonderful than she’d ever expected. She’d thought certainly Johnny would say his mama’s pies were his favorite part of Christmas or maybe Christmas dinner. She’d never expected such an entirely enchanting reply.

  “Why, Johnny Tabor,” she sighed, “I swear you are the most surprisin’ man.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Just ’cause I like Christmas?”

  Vivianna shook her head. “No. And yes.”

  She glanced away from Johnny to the road ahead. Instantly, her delight was dampened by the sight of none other than Tilly Winder. Tilly was walking toward Vivianna and Johnny, a basket filled with wildflowers hooked over one arm.

  “Oh no,” Vivianna mumbled.

  Johnny’s attention followed her gaze, and he asked, “Who is she?”

  “It’s Tilly Winder,” Vivianna whispered.

  Johnny looked to her and quickly asked, “The girl Caleb and Justin used to take turns sparkin’ with before you come along?”

  “What?” Vivianna asked, stopping short and looking up to him. Instantly, Johnny’s expression changed. He looked just like a little boy who’d been caught snitching a pie off a window ledge.

  “Nothin’,” he lied. “I was just—”

  “Vivianna! Hey there, Vivianna!’ Tilly called.

  Vivianna had been irritated enough by the impending meeting with Tilly. But after Johnny’s accidental revelation, she was even more aggravated. Still, she forced a friendly smile and said, “Hey there, Tilly,” as the young woman came to stand before her.

  “I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age! Where y’all headed, Viv?” Tilly asked—though her eyes had not strayed once from studying Johnny from head to toe. “And who’s this handsome man strollin’ along with ya?”

  “We’re headed into town,” Vivianna said. It took every ounce of self-control Vivianna could muster simply to appear polite. She loathed Tilly Winder! She always had. And she did not like the way the girl smiled at Johnny. “This is Johnny Tabor. He’s—”

  “Oh!” Tilly interrupted. “I heard tell of you! You come home with Justin Turner, didn’t ya?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said.

  “Well, I’m Tilly Winder,” Tilly said. “But you can call me Tilly.”

  Vivianna studied Tilly quickly. Her copper-colored hair and green eyes looked as much like the devil’s as she could imagine! Oh, certainly men were drawn to Tilly. After all, her appearance was so very striking—her manner so flirtatious and easy.

  “I heard Caleb tellin’ Benjamin Sidney about you,” Tilly flirted. “Why haven’t ya been into town yet, Mr. Tabor?” the girl asked.

  “I’m headed on in now, Miss Winder,” Johnny answered. “I’m seein’ Miss Bartholomew safely on to her family home.”

  Tilly glanced to Vivianna at last. Her eyes were bright and wide with what Vivianna could only identify as pure wanton lust. “Well, my, my, my, Vivianna,” Tilly said. “No wonder we ain’t seen a breath of ya in months. I thought for sure you and Justin woulda taken your vows by now. Mmm-mmm,” Tilly added, her attention returning to Johnny. “But I certainly see what’s keepin’ ya from it.”

  “We don’t have much time, Tilly,” Vivianna lied. “If you’ll excuse us, I’ve gotta to get over to the house. You have a nice day, ya hear?”

  “Oh, I plan to, Vivianna,” Tilly said. “I hope ya enjoy your visit to Florence, Mr. Tabor. If ever ya need anything…you just let me know.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said, taking hold of Vivianna’s arm and gently urging her forward.

  “Bye now, Vivianna!” Tilly called.

  Vivianna would’ve still been unsettled if it hadn’t been for Johnny’s seeming desperation to put as much of the road between Tilly Winder and himself as he could. The look on his face was truly amusing!

  “Most men just melt around Tilly Winder,” she said. “But ya don’t seem at all charmed by her.”

  Johnny scowled as he looked at her, still holding her arm, still urging her forward at a quickened pace. “Charmed? She plum makes my skin crawl!” he said.

  Vivianna was delighted—so delighted that she pulled her arm from his grasp and took hold of his hand. She held his hand for just a moment, delirious at the sense of their mutual touch. The feel of his strong hand clasped to hers was too affecting, however, and she released his hand as they continued.

  “What do you know about Caleb, Justin, and Tilly Winder, Johnny?” she asked.

  “Um…I…I…” he stammered. She glanced up to him, delighted to see his cheeks were red.

  “It’s somethin’ they told ya when y’all were soldierin’ together, isn’t it?” she teased him. “Ya weren’t supposed to tell me…were ya?”

  Johnny shook his head. “They were just boys when she went after ’em,” he admitted. “Just boys…and it was before either one of ’em was in love with ya.”

  Vivianna should have been upset—jealous—even furious! However, she was surprised to find that she was not. Disgusted, but not jealous or angry. She felt more aggravation in the way Tilly had ogled Johnny than she did for the fact that Caleb and Justin were part of the long list of boys and men who had practiced kissing on Tilly Winder’s instruction.

  “I don’t imagine there’s an unmarried man in town over the age of eighteen or under the age of thirty that hasn’t learned somethin’ about kissin’ from Tilly Winder,” she said.

  “I guess we’re nearin’ town,” Johnny said. “Here comes somebody else. There’s too much travelin’ on this road, if ya ask me.”

  Vivianna looked up to see that someone else was indeed approaching—a man. She smiled, however, and said, “Oh! That’s Mr. Maggee, Boy and Floydie’s daddy. He’s the nicest man in Florence.” She looked to Johnny, and for some reason, he seemed to catch her enthusiasm. “He’ll want to meet you…bein’ that you knew his boys and all.”

  Taking Johnny’s hand once more, she tugged him forward as she called, “Mr. Maggee! Good mornin’!”

  “Why, Vivianna Bartholomew! I haven’t seen you in quite some time,” Mr. Maggee greeted.

  “This is Johnny Tabor, Mr. Maggee,” Vivianna ex
plained, dropping her hold of Johnny’s hand and nodding toward him. “He was in the Alabama First with Boy and Floydie.”

  Instantly, Mr. Maggee’s blue eyes misted, his mouth quivering even as he smiled. “My boy,” he greeted, offering a hand to Johnny.

  Johnny accepted his hand, and Vivianna watched, tenderhearted as Mr. Maggee seemed to rather cling to it.

  “I’ve heard of you, Johnny Tabor,” the older man said. Vivianna noted that Mr. Maggee’s hair had more silver than brown now. It seemed he’d aged a decade since losing his boys.

  “From Caleb and Justin?” Johnny asked.

  But Mr. Maggee shook his head. “No. From my boys…from Floydie and Boy. It seems ya saved their hides more’n once over.”

  “I can’t rightly say, sir…but it sure is nice to meet the father of two such fine soldiers as your boys were,” Johnny said.

  “Johnny Tabor,” Mr. Maggee said, still holding tightly to Johnny’s hand, “I hear you and Justin Turner did a spell at Andersonville.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Maggee,” Johnny said. “But we come out of it fine.”

  Mr. Maggee released Johnny’s hand at last. Vivianna felt as if she might begin weeping, for as Mr. Maggee continued to gaze at Johnny, his eyes filled with moisture and emotion.

  “Well, don’t you let anybody ever disrespect you, boy,” Mr. Maggee said. “You and them Turner boys…and my own boys…y’all did the right thing. Don’t ya let anybody tell ya different, and don’t ya let anybody ever disrespect ya or what ya done in fightin’ for the Union. Do ya hear me?”

  “Yes, sir,” Johnny said, smiling.

  “Good. Good,” Mr. Maggee said. He looked to Vivianna then. “I’m on my way out to the Turner place to see my boys this very mornin’, Vivianna. I hope that’s all right.”

  Vivianna smiled. “Of course it’s all right, Mr. Maggee. Miss Savannah already told ya that ya don’t have to ask permission to go to the cemetery.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I just always feel like I should let somebody know.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re a gentleman,” Vivianna replied.