Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine

by McClure, Marcia Lynn

  Vivianna frowned, however. The memory of the dead Confederate Nate and Willy had found—of Zachary Powell—entered her mind. After Johnny and Justin had gone to look at the poor soul, hadn’t Justin said it looked as if his head had been bashed in by a rock? She glanced into the woods—shivered as she realized how very close the body had been found to Floydie Maggee’s resting place.

  She looked back to Johnny. He was still stretched out in the grass, tossing the rock in the air over and over. Fear began to rise in her—not fear that Johnny knew any more about the death of Zachary Powell than he’d already revealed but that he shared the same frightening thoughts she’d only just had. Perhaps Zachary Powell had fallen and bashed his head on Floydie’s tombstone and not a rock. If he had, then someone had moved his body to the woods, perhaps positioning his head against the rock to make it seem as if that is where he had fallen. Perhaps the same person who had taken the body in the end—and someone had taken it. Vivianna was not able to linger in denial enough to think an animal could’ve dragged it off.

  “Lowell, honey,” Vivianna began, “why don’t you run over to that mess of sweet violets we saw on our way here…and pick a few for my mama and daddy? Would ya mind?”

  Lowell smiled and gazed up at Vivianna with a rather loving expression. “I’d do anything for you, Miss Vivianna,” he sighed. “I sure am glad I finished my chores before Nate and Willy so’s I could come walkin’ with you today.”

  “Me too, sweetie,” Vivianna said, kissing him tenderly on the forehead. “Now you run on and gather a few violets for me, all right?”

  As Lowell nodded and dashed toward the path leading from the cemetery to the Turner home, he paused next to Johnny.

  Johnny chuckled when Lowell said, “Miss Vivianna just gave me a kiss, Mr. Johnny. Ain’t you just jealous as a grape?”

  “You bet I am, boy,” Johnny said.

  Lowell turned and waved to Vivianna. She smiled and tossed a wave in return.

  “I know what you’re thinkin’,” Johnny said, getting to his feet.

  “What?” Vivianna asked as he sauntered toward her.

  He shook his head and frowned as he looked at the blood on the stone. “You’re thinkin’ exactly what I thought when Willy and Nate showed me this awhile back…that this is where that devil Zachary Powell met with his Maker.”

  “But what if he did? It means someone…”

  Johnny nodded. “It means somebody moved him…that he didn’t just fall in the woods and hit his head on a rock.”

  “Maybe he staggered to the woods!” Vivianna suggested. “Maybe the fall here didn’t kill him…and he staggered off to die there.”

  “Maybe,” he said. He shrugged and added, “Or maybe a big buzzard really did drop his prey—a rabbit or somethin’—and it hit just here.” He looked to her, his eyes filled with doubt. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. It don’t change the fact that none of us know what happened…that folks would sure be pointin’ their fingers mine and Justin’s way.”

  Vivianna nodded. He was right. What did the blood on the tombstone change? Zachary Powell had died, his body had disappeared, and none of those residing at the Turner house knew how.

  She heard Johnny breathe a heavy sigh—glanced to him to see him rake his fingers through his hair. His expression was that of fatigue, worry, and discouragement.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. She studied him a moment, the way he stared at the bloodstain on Floydie’s tombstone. “Is…is this what’s eatin’ you up, Johnny? Because we don’t know what happened to the man who died here? Because we didn’t tell anybody?”

  Truth be told, the knowledge had haunted Vivianna too. Still, what was to be done?

  “What can we do, Johnny? Do you…are you thinkin’ we should tell somebody about it all…about this? Is that what causes your handsome brow to pucker so often?”

  He looked to her and sighed as she placed a tender palm to his cheek. “Among other things,” he mumbled, taking her hand from his cheek and pressing a firm kiss into her palm.

  “I used to think, even just months ago…I used to think that when the war was finally over…that somehow everything would be all right. But it scars us…all of us,” she told him.

  Again he kissed her palm, somehow almost desperately. He needed her—needed her comforting reassurance. Thus, she let her arms slide around his strong body, hugging him tightly. Johnny did not pause but gathered her against him, wrapping his powerful arms around her as he kissed the top of her head.

  “And yet…I need to confess something, Johnny Tabor,” she whispered.

  “What’s that?” he mumbled into her hair.

  Vivianna looked up into his face, tears welling in her eyes. “Sometimes—and I know it’s so sinful—but sometimes…sometimes I’m glad for the war…because if it hadn’t happened…I would never have found you.” It was a terrible thing to say; she knew it was! In truth, she wasn’t glad for the war. Though she knew the outcome was necessary—that freedom for every man and woman was right—she was not glad for the men who had died, for the families torn apart and left destitute. Still, she could not imagine her life without knowing Johnny—not anymore.

  A slight smile curved Johnny’s enticing lips. His eyes softened, and the worry seemed to fade from his face. “I know,” he whispered. “I think about that too.”

  He took her face in his hands, lightly brushing her lips with one thumb before pressing a tender kiss to them. Instantly, Vivianna’s heart soared! Her mouth flooded with excess moisture in anticipation of a more passionate exchange.

  Johnny paused in deepening their kiss, however, when Lowell said, “Mr. Johnny! Is that the way you plan to kiss her? That ain’t no way to kiss a woman!”

  Johnny smiled at Vivianna and chuckled. Releasing her, he turned to face the scolding little boy. “Is that so?” Johnny said.

  Lowell frowned. He held a bunch of mangled violets in each hand. Vivianna bit her lip to keep from smiling as he dropped the crushed bouquets to the grass beneath his feet.

  Lowell shook his head. “No, sir, Mr. Johnny! You gotta grab her tight…pull into ya…like when you’re learnin’ to shoot and hold the stock hard against your shoulder.” Lowell nodded and added, “Now, go on. Grab her like you’re a man!”

  Johnny chuckled. Vivianna smiled as he indeed took her in his arms, pulling her firmly against him. “Like this?” he asked Lowell.

  Lowell frowned and shook his head. “No. Pull in. Put one of your arms over her shoulder…the other around under her other arm…tight, Mr. Johnny.”

  Johnny did as instructed, smiling down at Vivianna.

  “That’s it,” Lowell said. “See how she can’t struggle as much now? And it gives ya a better angle to go at.”

  Johnny nodded and, smiling, asked, “Now what, Lowell? What do I do next?”

  “Well, ya kiss her,” Lowell began, “but not like she’s some little girl you been chasin’ after church. Kiss her once on the lips. Then ya sort of open your mouth a bit when ya kiss her again.”

  “Lowell!” Vivianna exclaimed.

  “Well, that’s how it’s done, Miss Vivianna,” he said. “Or so my daddy told me. He always kissed Mama like that.”

  Vivianna winced, knowing the boy must sorely miss his parents. She knew his pain; she shared it.

  Johnny’s smile faded a little too, and she knew he was thinking of the poor boy’s broken heart.

  “Now, go on, Johnny,” Lowell urged. “Ya gotta do it before she turns yeller and tries to run away.”

  “Like this?” Johnny asked, kissing Vivianna sweetly on the lips twice in succession.

  “Oh, no!” Lowell groaned. “No! I done told ya. The second time ya kiss her…ya gotta think like she’s a juicy ol’ plum.”

  “Oh! I see,” Johnny said, feigning sudden understanding. “Like this.”

  Vivianna sighed as Johnny’s mouth captured hers in a moist, impassioned kiss. As Johnny deepened their exchange, she feared the display might
be a bit too lurid for a young boy’s eyes, and she pulled away slightly.

  “That’s it, Mr. Johnny! That’s it!” Lowell exclaimed. “See how she’s all blushin’ and tryin’ to escape your charms now? That means you’ve kissed her right fine!”

  Johnny chuckled and took Vivianna’s mouth once more before releasing her. “Thanks, Lowell,” Johnny said. “Don’t know what I’d have done without ya here to help me out with this.”

  Vivianna’s smile broadened as Lowell proudly nodded and said, “You’re welcome, Mr. Johnny.” Lowell winked at Vivianna and added, “You’re welcome too, Miss Vivianna. Now you got you a beau who’s handsome and a good lover.”

  “Why, thank you, Lowell,” Vivianna giggled.

  Johnny inhaled a deep breath, exhaling a rather tired sigh. “Well, I suppose I oughta see to the garden,” he said. “Come Monday I won’t have as much time to tend to it.”

  “Are ya happy to be on with the railroad, Johnny?” Lowell asked.

  Johnny nodded. “I am,” he said. He hunkered down and tousled the boy’s hair as he looked at him. “But I’m a bit worried you might try some of your kissin’ skills on my girl.”

  Lowell smiled and hugged Johnny. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that to ya, Mr. Johnny. And anyway, I ain’t tall enough.”

  Johnny laughed, and Vivianna giggled with delight.

  “Well, you linger awhile with Miss Vivi, all right, boy?” Johnny told Lowell. “Help her put them pretty flowers on her mama and daddy’s restin’ places. I’ll see ya back at the house in a while.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lowell said.

  Johnny smiled and winked at Vivianna. “I’ll meet you later, Vivi…maybe for a little honeysuckle sippin’.”

  Vivianna nodded, delighted by his inference he would kiss her later—perhaps when their instructor was not so near to give advice. “Bye-bye,” Vivianna called as Johnny headed down the path toward home.

  “He’s a good man, that Johnny Tabor,” Lowell said.

  Vivianna watched as the boy bent to gather his pitiful bouquet of mangled violets. “He certainly is,” she agreed.

  Lowell further mashed the violets as he shoved them all into one fist so that he could take hold of Vivianna’s hand with the other. Gently he began to lead her toward her parents’ graves. The boy shook his head and said, “I’ll tell you what…I sure was scared when he found me that day. I thought he was gonna shoot me or somethin’! Mr. Johnny’s a mighty powerful man, and I didn’t know but that he would chew me up and have me for breakfast. But then he just kneeled down and pulled me into his arms…and I knew everything would be all right.”

  “I thought Justin found you, Lowell,” Vivianna asked. She remembered the last letter Justin had written to her in which he told her of finding Lowell.

  Lowell shook his head. “Mr. Justin…he was always takin’ the sunshine for things Mr. Johnny done. I remember when we got back to the soldier’s camp…Mr. Justin told everybody he’d found me.” Lowell shook his head again. “Mr. Johnny, he never said a word. That’s how I knew he cared for me. Mr. Johnny, he was just glad I was safe. But Mr. Justin…he just wanted everyone to think he was some sorta hero for findin’ a poor orphan child in the woods.”

  Vivianna felt tears brimming in her eyes. She shook her head, awed to know yet another wonderful characteristic of the man she loved. She was angry too, however—angry that Justin would steal the recognition for a good deed. In the first of it, a good deed should be done simply because it was the right thing to do, not for recognition and praise. Johnny had never mentioned that he’d been the one to find Lowell. He’d just seemed happy to see the boy safe—delighted in his company. Vivianna wondered how many other stories Justin had written to her in his letters were lies.

  Lowell paused and looked up to Vivianna with a rather frightened, pleading expression. “I think Mr. Johnny loves me…don’t you, Miss Vivianna?” he asked.

  Vivianna’s heart nearly broke with sympathy and love for the boy. “I know he does,” she said, dropping to her knees and gathering him into her arms.

  “And he loves you too,” Lowell sniffled against her cheek. “I can tell.” He pulled away from her then, brushing a tear from his cheek. “He just needs a little more skill with his kissin’.” He smiled at her then.

  Vivianna giggled. “Darlin’, if Johnny gets any better at kissin’…I swear he’ll lead me—”

  “Straight down the path to hell?” Lowell finished.

  Vivianna’s eyes widened. “Why, Lowell! What a thing to say!”

  Lowell shrugged. “It’s what ya meant, isn’t it? Though…I’m not rightly certain how kissin’ on Johnny could lead down to hell. I just heard a nurse woman say that once, when she was visitin’ the camp. I heard her say, ‘Ooo! That Johnny Tabor! He could lead me straight down the path to hell, and I wouldn’t mind a bit!’ That’s what she said.” Lowell shrugged. “Of course, I never could figure it…bein’ that Johnny never would say a word to her.” Lowell shook his head and sighed. “Sometimes grown-up folks don’t make no sense at all.”

  Vivianna watched as Lowell then placed half the bouquet of mashed flowers on her mother’s grave and half on her father’s. She stifled a giggle when he kneeled down and began pinching the already mutilated blossoms with his small fingers.

  “There now,” he said, wiping his violet scented hands on his shirt. “Mama used to pinch mint or sage leaves when she was cookin’. She said it released the flavors. I figure the same thing goes on with flower perfume.”

  “I suppose it does,” Vivianna said.

  Lowell was quiet for a moment—thoughtful. “Would it be all right with you if I come out here every once in a while and visited your folks, Miss Vivianna?” he asked. “I don’t know where my own were buried over…or even if they were. It’d make me feel a whole lot better if I could come visitin’ yours here and there.”

  “Of course, darlin’,” Vivianna said, fighting back another flood of tears. “And besides, I know my mama and daddy are watchin’ over me from heaven. Maybe…maybe since you’re here too now…maybe your mama and daddy are together with my own. Maybe they’re just sittin’ up in heaven together—”

  “Sippin’ lemonade?” he asked, smiling hopefully.

  “Yes,” Vivianna said, smoothing his hair from his forehead. “Sippin’ lemonade…with lots of extra sugar.”

  Lowell smiled, bent, and crushed a few more violet petals.

  

  “Lowell told me today that you found him…not Justin,” Vivianna said. She let the droplet of honeysuckle nectar drip to Johnny’s lip and then kissed it away.

  Johnny smiled as he lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head, beneath the wild honeysuckle vine in the woods. “Oh, I’ll take me some more of that, Miss Vivianna Bartholomew,” he said.

  Vivianna smiled. “Did you find him? Did you find Lowell…or did Justin?”

  Johnny shrugged. “Does it matter? He got found. That’s what’s important.”

  “But I wanna know the truth,” Vivianna prodded.

  Johnny’s smile faded. “The truth,” he mumbled. “All right. I did find Lowell,” he confessed. “I was out scoutin’, and Justin was a ways behind me…and I found the poor boy. When we got back to camp, Justin marched in and announced he’d found a lost orphan boy. Everyone went on and on, slatherin’ him with praise and compliments. I don’t know why he done that. I just wanted to make sure the boy was safe.” He paused, his eyes narrowing as he added, “And I ain’t tellin’ ya that to try and make myself shine in anybody’s eyes. I just wanna make sure you know that Lowell ain’t a liar.” His anger disappeared almost instantly, however, and he chuckled. “That boy! He does lighten a heart…don’t he?”

  Vivianna nodded. “Yes, he does. He’s a little darlin’.”

  Johnny sat up, and Vivianna leaned back against the old vine-covered oak as he cupped her chin in one hand and kissed her. Oh, his kiss was divine! His mouth was sweet like sugar, and the feel of it to hers caused goose pi
mples to ripple over her body.

  He mumbled something against her mouth, yet her ears were ringing so loudly with bathing in bliss that she didn’t understand him.

  “What?” she breathed.

  His mouth left hers, and he kissed her neck just below her right ear. “I love you, Vivi,” he whispered then.

  Instantly, tears sprang to Vivianna’s eyes. Instantly, her heart began to hammer even more madly than it had a moment before!

  “I’ve loved you for so long,” he breathed.

  Vivianna captured his face between her hands—kissed him ravenously on the mouth. He loved her! He’d said it—confessed his love. She was wild with rapture!

  Throwing her arms around his neck, she wept and whispered against his cheek, “I love you, Johnny! I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you! The day you and Justin returned…I…I tried not to look at you. I thought it was because you were lookin’ so near to death. But…but now I realize…I realize my soul was drawn to you!”

  He released her, taking her face in his hands and studying her expression.

  “Remember…remember that day…when all of us thought you would die…that you wouldn’t live until mornin’? I kissed you, Johnny! I kissed you! Oh, it probably seemed like nothin’ to you, but I’d never done such a thing in my life, Johnny! To kiss a strange man? Even then my soul was drawn to you. My mind and heart were tryin’ their best to love Justin…but my soul knew I loved you.”

  Johnny’s eyes were moist—bright with joy but also sadness. “Do you…do you love me enough to forgive me anything, Vivi?” he asked.

  “Johnny, I know you. There’s nothin’ you could’ve done that would change my love for you.”

  He looked doubtful. His brow puckered with pain.

  “Johnny Tabor…have you murdered anyone?” she asked.

  “No! Of course not,” he grumbled.

  “Do you have a wife and children tucked away in Texas?”

  “Vivi! No!”

  “Then there’s nothin’ you’re hidin’…nothin’ hauntin’ you that would keep me from you.”

  “Let me taste you now, Vivi,” he mumbled. His eyes began to smolder with desire as he gazed at her. “Let me kiss you for an hour here…beneath the honeysuckle vine. Let me have one more day of ownin’ your heart…and then…then I’ll tell ya. Give me time to build up my courage…and then I’ll tell you about the devil in me. Then you can decide whether or not you can still love me…whether or not you can tolerate lookin’ at me. All right?”