An Uncivilized Yankee

by V. V. Wedding

  Travis turned to her in shock. “How did—”

  “I forgot where I was and tried to be helpful.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Exactly.”

  “A Healer?” Logan’s green eyes took on a calculating sheen as he looked at the slim girl beside him. “Are you serious?”

  She noticed the look, gave him a small, mocking smile. “Quite serious. And don’t even consider it, sir.”

  His face all innocence, the captain merely said, “Consider what, Miss Anderson?” To Travis he said, “You’re relieved of your duties until Major Lewis shows up. I noticed the word nursemaid was not appreciated. Should I use the term host instead?”

  “Yes,” Travis and Starla answered simultaneously.

  Captain Logan just laughed. “I’ll let you know when Will gets here,” he said, and walked away.

  “Will? He knows my uncle?”

  “They were friends at the academy. And served together out West.”

  Now what? He glanced down at her. They had found her a cloak and a dress somewhere, a drab, ill fitting thing. Her hair was disheveled; she looked like she too had not slept well. She was clutching a large wool wrapped bundle tightly as she stood there beside him in the slushy snow. At his questioning gaze she thrust the bundle at him.

  “Here are your clothes and coat. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to clean them.” He waved off the concern. “I did mend—” She broke off, embarrassed, as her stomach let out a low growl. A forced smile. “They fed me some breakfast over at your headquarters, but they seemed to think young ladies subsist on air and dry toast. Do you … do you think I might have something a little more substantial to eat? And perhaps some coffee?”

  “Your wish is my command, milady,” he said gallantly. “Let me take care of Ginny here, and then we can see what sort of forage I can find for us.”

  She bobbed her head and followed him over to the picket line. After leaving the rangy chestnut tearing into a bale of hay, they headed back towards the tents.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d keep her, what with your early misunderstandings.”

  “Actually, she’s not a bad horse. Fairly smooth gait, steady on a battlefield. Rather talkative now. She told me she just wasn’t used to the smell of Yankee.”

  “Did you decide to call her Virginia after all?”

  “But of course! She didn’t mind. Said it’s far better than her previous name. And after all, I had to have some daily reminder of the teeth behind this state, since you weren’t around to do it for me,” he added, holding open the flap of his tent to toss the bundle onto his bedroll.

  “Travis?” She sounded almost distraught. He looked up, concerned, but she was looking past him at a pile of blue gray wool draped over a box. “Are my clothes dry?”

  He picked them up, handed them to her. “Mostly. Hold a minute. Maybe I can….” His voice trailed off as he focused on the strands of Air running through and about the fabric. He flexed his fingers, twisted the air as if wringing out the strands.

  A tiny puddle formed at her feet, but she didn’t seem to notice it, was instead watching his hands closely.

  “There you go, Miss Star.”

  “Almost,” she murmured. “Almost I could see how you worked it.” Then she shook her head as if shaking herself awake. “Thank you so very, very much. May I change now?”

  “Certainly. And I’ll go see what kind of food we have for hungry Rebel mermaids.”

  A cookfire had been set up in the sheltered area formed by the tents of his squad. Travis put the coffee on to boil, then scrounged up some leftover breakfast—corn dodgers and bacon.

  When Star finally made her way out of the tent, she seemed much more at ease. She’d even managed to bring some sort of order to her hair. When she saw what he had found, she began to laugh.

  “Doesn’t that bring back memories. And that coffee smells divine.”

  “Sorry, but all our china cups are dirty right now. These will have to suffice,” he said, pouring the coffee into two dented tin mugs. “I never knew you liked coffee so much.”

  “Neither did I, until there none to be had.”

  He dusted off a snow capped log for her, then settled in heavily across the way, leg twanging momentarily as he did. He rubbed at it, unconscious of the action.

  “Does it still hurt you much?”

  He glanced up at her. Her expression was purely professional. “Not really,” he said, stretching it out straight in front of him. “Just aches occasionally. I don’t even notice I’m rubbing it half the time.”

  She was kneeling on the frozen ground, peeling down his boot top and pushing up his pant leg before he realized what she was doing. “Hmmm….”

  The wound had healed rather well after all, a long ropy scar the only remaining mark. She tapped at the shin carefully, then held her hands steady on it. The peculiar cool burning of Healing, then a lessening of the stiffness and pain.

  “Thanks,” he said. “That’s much better. But you really should save yourself for the important things.”

  She laughed again, this time with bitterness. “Don’t worry—I’ve had so much experience recently that I’ve figured out a few tricks. Doesn’t take near as much out of me as it used to.”

  With that she moved back to her coffee and food and asked, “So, how have you been? What happened after those Yankees captured you?”

  “Rescued, you mean.”

  “Whatever. After those Yankees decided to take you with them.”

  “Well, there’s not much to tell. Seems they were a detachment from the First Michigan sent to scout out the area.”

  She cocked her head. “Michigan. That explains the peculiar accent.”

  “We had a bit of a disagreement at first, since they wanted to hang me as a spy. They seemed to think it would be jolly good fun. I disagreed rather vehemently. Finally we compromised, and they took me to their captain. The captain was a reasonable fellow, so he immediately sent me to their colonel—Brodhead, I think it was—who questioned me for a while before deciding I wasn’t a spy or a deserter and sent me on to my colonel. Of course this process of climbing and descending the chain of command takes time, so I didn’t get back to my own company until almost a week later.” He paused to take another sip of his coffee.

  “Captain Logan was happy to see me back safe and sound. He’d feared I was dead, since he’d seen me fall back at the Totopotomoy. I think he’s decided I need looking after.”

  She snickered. “Now, that’s a change.”

  “But that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, my leg was still bothering me quite a bit—no blame to you, I’d overused it again—so I got sent home on a two month furlough. Then I came back here in early November, and I’ve been with the company ever since. See, nothing all that interesting.”

  Starla was draining the last dregs of coffee from her cup with a look of disappointment. He laughed and refilled her cup.

  “Better go easy on that, Miss Star,” he warned. “Otherwise you’ll never get to sleep tonight.”

  “No worries on that, Travis. I rarely have problems falling asleep,” she said. “Not with the life I lead. And don’t change the subject. You left out everything that happened to you at home.”

  “Why do you want to hear that?” he asked, drawing his brows together in confusion. “Is your life so dull that you need to be bored with my non adventures in sleepy ol’ Pennsylvania?”

  “Not at all,” she said, voice grown very quiet. “Maybe I just want some connection with normality, no matter how tenuous that connection may be.” She flashed him a too bright smile, one that did not quite reach her eyes. “Maybe I want to hear about a happy home life, Travis, so don’t spare the details.”

  You can’t be serious, he thought. Then he remembered her home and family. Perhaps you are.

  “Sure, Miss Star. If you really want to hear. I got home late at night, since the train was late getting into Frederick that afternoon, and I still had to ride up to Gett
ysburg.”

  “Where’s that?” she interrupted. “It sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “It should be. Remember General Stuart’s little raid back in October? The one that went all the way up to Chambersburg?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, when you passed through Cashtown, you were within a couple miles of my house. Da and I were on the front porch with our rifles, just hoping for some stray Reb to wander by.” He didn’t mention the mad moment when he had actually considered riding out to intercept Stuart’s cavalry, just to see her again. Luckily the moment, and the gray cavalry, passed without incident.

  “Now, don’t interrupt me again, or I shan’t finish my tale,” he said with mock severity, mostly to cover his embarrassment at that memory. “Mum and Da weren’t expecting me. They weren’t even sure I was still alive. Captain Logan and my brother Rob had both written them when I disappeared, but hadn’t had time to notify them of my return. Mum almost swooned when I showed up at the front door, and my mother is about as unflappable as women come. She insisted on a hot bath, then supper in bed, despite the late hour. Not that I minded in the least. Oh my, did it feel good to sleep in a real bed, a featherbed no less.”

  “Must have been rough,” Starla murmured, staring at her hands. They were sun browned, even now in the heart of winter, with long, strong fingers tipped by short bitten nails. How often had he seen those slender hands covered with blood, wrestling with flesh and bone to save a life? How often did she regret living this way, with no bed, no hot baths, no guaranteed meals? He had never heard her complain, but the weariness in her voice made him look at her worriedly.

  She waved a hand at him to continue. He did, trying to keep his tale lighthearted.

  “It was rough,” he agreed, “because the next day Kitty showed up. She’d heard far too many stories of young women nursing wounded soldiers back to health, and was determined to have one of her own to tell, whether I needed a nurse or not.”

  “And who might she be?” Star asked, voice unusually disinterested.

  Travis peeked over at her through a sheaf of shaggy hair. She was drawing randomly in a patch of mud with the tip of her boot, face blank and lips tight. Now that’s very strange. Kitty said the exact same thing, in much the same manner, when I mentioned your name. With Kitty the expression had been easy to label—her jealous streak was legendary in Adams County. But that couldn’t be the case here, not coming from Star….

  “Kitty—Katherine, that is—Scott is an old friend. We’ve known each since, well, since she was born. She’s about your age, maybe slightly older. But anyway, Kitty knows as much about nursing as I do about needlepoint. I mean, I’ve watched my mum do it, but have never tried it for myself. Nor would I be any good at it if I did try. Kitty’s the same way with nursing. I think she would have fainted if I’d actually been bleeding. I finally convinced her I was just fine, that I had already had a wonderful nurse who had done such an excellent job that I was no longer in any danger. She seemed rather disappointed. Instead she insisted on coming over every day to read to me. Mum eventually chased her away. Thank goodness for that. I don’t think I could have stood another page of Wuthering Heights. How do you womenfolk stand that nonsense?”

  “Not all womenfolk do,” she said, mouth twisting in an expression of disgust. “I despised that book. Threw it across my room when I finished reading it.”

  Travis had to grin. “And they think I have a temper. But really, the rest of my stay was uneventful. Oh, except when Stuart came raiding. That allowed some excitement.”

  Starla shifted uncomfortably on her log. She didn’t seem to have heard his last few words. “Do you mind if we walk around, Travis? I’m feeling a little cold.”

  “Not at all,” he said, jumping to his feet. I should have thought of that before she had to mention it.

  They walked off, side by side. Travis found himself wishing she’d walk just a little closer. There was a dry whisper in the back of his mind. Shut up right now, he ordered it fiercely, before it had a chance to say anything. The thought vanished.

  Starla was quiet for a while; she seemed to be chewing on something.

  “Tell me about your family, Travis.”

  “Whyever for, Miss Star? Haven’t I already bored you enough for today?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not bored, and I am curious. Isn’t that enough of a reason? Besides, you know all the sordid details of my family. It wouldn’t be fair to keep me in the dark about yours. Is there some reason you never really spoke of them before?”

  He chuckled. “No, no reason. And no deep secrets to share either. My family consists of the four of us: Da, Mum, Rob, and me. That’s all. Which is probably why I never talked about them—we’re a fairly ordinary family.”

  “Da. That’s a Gaelic form, is it not? I’ve heard you use other Gaelic expressions, but Black isn’t a very Gaelic surname.”

  “To be sure, you’re an observant lass,” he said in his best imitation of an Irish brogue. She smiled, and he lapsed back into his normal voice. “I only know a few phrases. Picked them up from Mum and her da. They—the O’Donnells that is—came over from County Donegal shortly after that last war with the British. Mum says I inherited Granda’s gift with horses, and his temper.”

  “How well I remember both of those,” she said dryly.

  “Then there’s Da. He comes from a long line of military men. There have been Blacks fighting in nearly every war since the English first came to America,” he said proudly before adding, “Though sometimes there were Blacks on both sides. And when there wasn’t a war on, they usually fought each other. Da was a soldier himself. Artillery. Up until he lost his leg in Mexico. It shouldn’t have happened, but there was no dedicated and Talented nurse to care for him, so the surgeons had to take it off.”

  She actually blushed at his praise this time, then moved closer and tucked her arm through his. He continued talking, his steady voice belying the unexpected dancing of his heart. They wandered along the high bluffs that overlooked the Rappahannock River.

  “He’s a professor now. Teaches mathematics at the college in Gettysburg. And that leaves my brother Robert.”

  “Older or younger?”

  “Three years older. Rob’s the genius of the family. And I do mean genius. They let him into West Point at thirteen, and I swear he tutored half of the officer corps of the Union army while there. Probably your side too. He’s an engineer through and through, spent the past few years mapping and building out West. Then this war started, and the army wanted to send him all the way out to California. He refused, resigned, and promptly joined the Fourth Penn as a volunteer.”

  “He’s in the same regiment as you? Do you see him often?”

  “Not really, since we’re in different companies. But we keep tabs on each other. Or at least he talks to Captain Logan—they’re old friends—about me, and I hear through the camp grapevine about all the wonderful things he’s accomplished. He’s a hard act to follow, but I suppose he’s not that bad. As far as older brothers go anyway.”

  She drifted away from him, and stood apart, silent.

  Travis felt a little heart lurch. “Did I say something wrong again, Miss Star?”

  She shook her head, scraping snow from a bush top and watching it fall in little dribbles to the ground. “No, not at all. I’m sorry. I’m just very tired, tired. Tired of living this way. I … I miss Dani. I’ve not been much of a big sister lately. I feel that somehow, well, that I’ve failed her by not being there for her. I want to go home, and I can’t.”

  Travis wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her. Or else ride madly up to her home and shoot that bastard Jake. But he could do neither. Instead, he snorted derisively. “What a load of horsefeathers! Did you ask for the Bancrofts to move into Woodhaven, to destroy the sanctity of your home?”

  “Hell no!” The very thought startled her into profanity.

  He ignored it, taking a step closer to her. “Did you r
eally have a choice except to leave?”

  She wilted like a trampled flower. “No.”

  “Then it’s not your fault, and you have not failed anyone. You’ve made the very best of a rotten situation. You have a home, for now anyway, with your uncle, with people who would give themselves to protect you. That’s not a bad thing, Miss Star. Maybe some time soon you can go home. Until then, I know you miss your sister, but I don’t think that kind of attitude will do you, or her, any good whatsoever.”

  He gazed at her intently, willing her to understand what he meant to say. Maybe it wasn’t the best way of getting it across to her, but blast it all! he hated to hear her talk that way, as if somehow her situation were her fault.

  She seemed to be considering his words, head and shoulders bent. She gathered up another pile of snow and gazed at it. Then her head snapped up and her shoulders straightened.

  Good, he thought, she’s not going to let it get the better of her. He turned away to stare out over the river. We’d best be heading back to camp. Surely Major Lewis has gotten the news by now—

  SPLAT!

  Travis let out a yelp as something wet and extremely cold slid down his ear and neck, dripping into his collar. He whirled around to face Starla.

  She was glancing back and forth from her empty hand to him, astonishment rampant on her face. “Oh my, I did it. I really did it,” he heard her muttering, eyes wide.

  “Why you little…!” he said, laughing as he reached down to scoop up a handful of snow.

  “I was only thinking about it; honest, Travis. I didn’t mean to actually … to….” She couldn’t finish her sentence, but retreated shaking with mirth. “You should have seen yourself jump!”

  “Now look you here, Starla Anderson,” he growled at her, delighted to see her laughing so hard. “If you start an unprovoked attack, you are going to have to stand and face the consequences.”

  He let fly with the snowball. She ducked just in time, then took off running back the way they’d come, her laughter ringing across the river.