An Uncivilized Yankee

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An Uncivilized Yankee Page 18

by V. V. Wedding


  I cannot tell her, not if I wish to keep her safe. Dani was normally sweet natured, but she was fiercely loyal, and possessed a true red headed temper. Star could only imagine the scene her sister would cause if the whole truth ever were revealed. So far Danica had escaped her cousin’s baser attentions, but she shivered to think of his revenge, on the both of them. And I’ll not put her at risk of that.

  “Iris dear, I fear we’re lost,” she whispered as the path wound in and out of the heat shrouded trees. There was no noise, save the lonely thump of hooves in mud. No birds, no insects, nothing. It was as if the whole world were dead, and only she and her horse still breathed. She blinked against the sting of sweat in her eyes, then drew up in sudden horror.

  The narrow path was blocked by three giant figures, their forms wavering gray and ghostly.

  “Care to join us, missie?”

  She screamed, wheeled Iris to flee, but the deserters were there behind her too, grabbing her, dragging her from the saddle into the mud, dragging her down the path in a tangle of skirts and hair. She screamed again, but the only response was laughter and the sound of tearing cloth.

  They pulled away. A flash of blue—Travis stood at the edge of the clearing, pushing a sheaf of coffee brown hair out of his face, watching her with pale gray eyes.

  “Travis! Help me, please,” she sobbed, reaching out to him, fingertips brushing the rough wool of his jacket.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Star. You’re safe now. I’m here, and I’ll watch out for you.”

  Len smiled, a broad, gap toothed smile. “Don’t worry, Miss Star. We’ll watch out for you,” he parroted, raising his hand and pointing it like a gun.

  Travis jerked, once, twice, little bursts of red flame erupting from his chest. He stared at her in bewilderment, then spun slowly to the ground, blood spilling, dark against the red clay.

  “Travis!”

  The deserter leered at her, melting into Jake’s amber eyed face. “I told you I would always find you. You are mine, Woodhaven is mine, and cursed is any man who comes between me and what is mine.” He kicked at the fallen body; Travis cried out in agony.

  She collapsed to her knees next to him, turned him over carefully, saw shredded flesh, shattered ribs. She put her hands to his chest, trying to staunch the bleeding, but felt his body go stiff and cold under her touch.

  “No, no, not you too!” she cried, holding out her hands before her, watching as the blood turned to flame on her fingers, as Travis disappeared in a cocoon of fire. Jake kicked again at the blackening body, and ashes and sparks drifted upwards, their flickering fire lights wicking along her blood stained skirt. She moaned, burying her face in her hands, ignoring the flames that threatened to engulf her.

  Let them take me, she thought. Why keep fighting if he too is gone?

  A sudden gust of wind buffeted her like a reed; she swayed with it, keening softly. Gone, gone. They’re all gone….

  “Starla? Starla, wake up! Wake up, I tell you!”

  She broke out of the dream world with a whimper. Danica was perched on the edge of her bed, tiny hands grasping her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Dani,” she finally choked out, the reality of the nightmare refusing to fade. “Just another of my bad dreams.”

  The reply was uncharacteristically sarcastic. “No, really? I figured that much out on my own, sister dear. It wasn’t your usual, was it.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  Starla shifted to a sitting position, propping pillows up between herself and the headboard. “No. It wasn’t.” And I really don’t want to think about it anymore. She turned to stare out the window.

  “Who is Travis?”

  She swung around to face her sister, heart skipping several beats. Dani’s thin face gleamed pale in the moonlight, her expression studiously blank.

  “Pardon?”

  “Who is Travis? You screamed for him. Twice.”

  Travis. How can I explain him to Dani when I can’t even explain him to myself?

  “Will you not tell me what really happened, Star? We used to share all our secrets, remember?”

  Star’s shoulders slumped and she rubbed at her eyes wearily. You’re right. We did share everything, even before our world burned to ashes, before I changed so. Why not tell indeed? I am too tired at this point to care. She sighed, a tired, heavy sound. “What do you want to know?” she asked, all resistance draining.

  Danica pulled a blanket off her bed and snuggled it close around her. “What made you leave?”

  “Let’s just say Jake,” she stumbled over the name, “and I had a fairly significant disagreement. He wants me. I don’t want him. And he won’t take no for an answer. So I left. I went to find Uncle Will, but got lost outside of Richmond.” The dusky dream path seemed more real than her memory, the grimy faces of the deserters looming suddenly before her. She shrank back against the pillows. “I met up with some deserters. They … they wanted to sell me to a … to a place in the city. At least they didn’t….”

  She left the thought unfinished, as Danica’s face grew ashen. “Don’t worry, cariad. The good Lord watches over fools and children as they say, and I was only bruised. I fought back. One of them knocked me down, and that’s the last thing I remembered for a while.” She paused. “Anyway, by the time I woke up, I had been rescued. By a Lieutenant Travis Black, Fourth Pennsylvania Cavalry.”

  “A Yankee?”

  “Aye, a Yankee. I’m afraid I treated him rather shabbily, and he was wounded trying to keep me safe. So, to make a very long story shorter, Will somehow arranged for him to stay with us for a few months, just while his wounds healed. I owed him that much. We got to be … we were friends. War does that sometimes. Makes for odd friendships, that is.” Well, we were friends, and that explanation will have to satisfy her as well as me.

  Then her eyes narrowed in the dim room. All too often her dreams became realities. “He was there tonight, in my dream. They shot him. It was my fault, and I could do nothing….” Her voice trailed off. Something wasn’t right. He should be safe, now that he’s away from me! So why did I dream of him?

  She sniffed, once, then snapped at her sister, “Well, now you know why I didn’t come home. Are you satisfied?”

  “For now.”

  Now go away, and let me try to get my memories back under control, Starla thought, dismissing Danica by ducking her head under her covers.

  “Tarnation!” Starla winced as a spray of soapy water splashed into her eyes.

  “Starla Anderson!” Dani was shocked. “Watch your language! Heavens, you hardly sound like a lady anymore.”

  Anymore? When have I ever been a lady? Star thought cynically, reaching up with a dripping hand to push a wayward lock of hair from her face. How many “ladies” have done what I did? Though I’m sure that nowadays quite a few proper Southern ladies stand hunched over a washtub for hours on end. It’s patriotic, don’t you know? So I’m likely more ladylike now than I ever was before.

  She paused and looked around, arching her back, willing the aching muscles to relax. Still, it was a beautiful morning, one of those sweet May mornings when the whole world was blooming. Woodhaven in the spring—dogwoods clothed in creamy gowns, lilac scented breeze, bright clumps of phlox—what more could she ask for? Dani sat on the kitchen steps, a pile of mending beside her. She smiled, and Star couldn’t help but smile back.

  I wish I could be more like her, be more content here. But I’m not. She looked off into the distance, away from home. What was missing? Her smile faded. Well, she sighed silently, back to work.

  Danica watched the dark cloud settle back over her sister and sighed too. Star would seem happy for a moment, then would withdraw even further into herself. It had been like that since the night she had so suddenly returned. Almost two months now, and it was getting worse, not better.

  “Oh, bloody hell in a handbasket!” The washboard had slipped, soaking Star’s shirtfront. “Sorry, Dani. I’ll try to curb my tongue.”
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  Dani simply shook her head and returned to her mending.

  Star was pinning up the last of the laundry when Dani noticed a small mule drawn cart coming up the long lane that cut through the east fields, from the direction of Kellysville. That was odd. Most people stuck to the main road, not that small, private lane.

  “Now, who do you suppose that could be?” she asked aloud.

  Star glanced down the hillside; the last apron fell unnoticed into the dirt. “Oh no,” she whispered, body tensed to flee. Then she was gone, racing barefoot for the stables. Dani watched, open mouthed, as she reappeared moments later, bareback on Iris, pounding down the hill in the opposite direction.

  “Who…?” Who could Starla possibly want to avoid that badly? Only one person. “Aunt Eliza! Leah! Jake is back. And Uncle Isaac,” she added, almost as an afterthought. Danica did not fear her cousin and uncle, not the way Star did, but neither did she like them.

  Leah rushed out the back door and towards her adored big brother. “Jake!”

  Eliza came out too but stayed on the back stoop, a wary expression on her worn face. For the first time, Danica realized she had never seen her aunt happy when either of the men were home. For that matter, she couldn’t think of a time when her aunt had ever seemed happy. That thought brought a sudden heaviness to her heart. Maybe there was more of a reason for Star’s behavior than she’d originally believed.

  Supper was a loud affair, with Uncle Isaac reigning over the table as lord and master once again.

  From his own tales you would have supposed that he was Mars himself, Dani thought sourly, pushing the remains of her corn pudding around with the tip of her spoon, rather than a lowly corporal with a Miníe ball through his thigh. He held forth on all manner of military topics, from the stupidity of Union generals to his own heroism in the face of certain death to General Lee’s incompetence. Dani highly doubted that most of Lee’s men felt the same way as her uncle, and was glad that Star was not there to hear him. No doubt her sister would have exploded in righteous anger at his blasphemy of the beloved general, and their uncle was far too free with his fists when it came to his headstrong niece.

  Instead Dani spent most of the meal silent, staring blankly at her plate, and avoided looking at either returned relative. But she found her eyes being drawn again and again to the bandaged stump where her cousin’s left hand had been.

  Jake noticed her gaze and snickered. “Nice, isn’t it. Will keep me out of this war permanently, that’s for certain.” He stretched his arm across the table, towards her. She flinched away, and he laughed. “I’m sure your sister will be overjoyed at the sight of this.”

  Isaac paused, forkful of dried apple pie halfway to his mouth. “Where is your sister?” he demanded.

  Dani slid lower in her chair. “Out riding, I suppose,” she replied, stammering slightly. “She probably just lost track of time.”

  “Sooo, the runaway has returned,” Jake said, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “I was hoping that was her we saw riding off.”

  “Runaway, eh? What’d the blasted girl do this time?”

  “Oh, our dear adventurous Estella decided she wanted to see a bit of the world, so she just up and ‘jined the cavalry’. And we were all so worried about her. But don’t you fret none, Pa. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get herself in such trouble again.”

  He looked at his father with a feral grin. Eliza, hollow eyed next to Danica, let out a muffled noise which might have been a sob. Only Dani heard her, and felt a tiny spark of fear kindle inside her.

  Danica crawled under the covers in the candle danced darkness of her room and shivered involuntarily. Outside the branches of the dogwood tapped a lively rhythm on the glass. Sounds like a storm is building, and Star still hasn’t come back. Sure, she knows how to take care of herself, at least from the weather, but….

  The tapping grew louder; there was a voice on the growing wind. She hobbled over to the window and threw up the sash. Star released the branch she was clinging to and pulled herself over the sill.

  “Where is he?” she gasped out, dropping down like a cat, eyes huge in the dim light. She began to pace the room anxiously.

  “Next door, so keep your voice down.”

  Starla snarled, then stalked to the wardrobe and began digging madly through her clothes.

  “I’ve already locked the door. Star, listen. Both of them were wounded at Chancellorsville. Uncle has leave only until he can walk again, then he’ll be going back. But Jake lost his left hand. Amputated.”

  There was a muffled curse from inside the wardrobe. “Which means he won’t be leaving again. Too bad. Of all the bloody luck, he had to survive. If anyone deserved a nice case of gangrene, it’s him. If I had the ability, I’d give it to him yet. But where the—? Thank God. Here it is.” There was a flash of silver in her palm. It quickly vanished into the darkness of her skirts as she recommenced her pacing.

  Danica thumped after her for a moment. Her sister turned and stared at her. “What else is wrong, Dani? You’re as skittish as a Yankee general in Loudoun County.”

  “Star,” Danica said quietly, “he said he had plans for you, to keep you from running away again. There was something in his voice, his eyes, something not quite sane.” She rubbed her eyes viciously, trying hard not to cry. “I never understood why you hated him so, but now I do. He scared me tonight. Really scared me. Mostly, I’m scared for you. I don’t want you to go, not again. But neither do I want you hurt.”

  Star stood like a statue, right hand cradling her skirt pocket. Then she seemed to cave in on herself and wrapped her cold arms around Dani’s tiny frame. “Oh, cariad. I’ll not go. Not yet, anyway. And don’t worry so much. I can protect myself better now, thanks to Uncle Will. And Travis,” she added softly, as if to herself. She smoothed red curls back from Danica’s pale face, forcing her to look up. “I promise this much; if I do leave, I’ll tell you before I go. Will that help?” There was a nod and sniff.

  “But how? How can you protect yourself from him?”

  “First he’ll have to catch me. Then,” she smiled grimly and pulled a tiny pistol from her pocket. The candlelight played along its smooth sides, turning it to fire in the dim room. “Then he’ll have to face this.”

  May passed, as did Star’s nineteenth birthday, which she spent at the family burial plot, alone in the drizzling mist. Huddled under an old black poncho, back braced against the gnarled trunk of an ancient holly, she stared out over the pale headstones and lost herself in tears. There would be no birthday letter from Will this year. Another bright spot extinguished.

  The list came unbidden to her mind. Papa and Mother, Melly and Tib and Percy to the flames. Grandpapa and Grandmother Anderson the following year. Uncle Charles, who came down from Boston to help: drowned in the Rapidan. Cousin Alec, who taught her how to climb trees: lost at sea. Tommy Akins, her first beau, who had given Jake quite the thrashing for bothering her: killed during a hunt. Joshua O’Neill, Tommy’s best friend, whose shot it was that inexplicably went astray, was found hanged in his parents’ barn the next day. And now Will. Just as she had dreamed.

  “I never warned you, Will,” she whispered to the dripping leaves.

  Her life was now a nonstop game of chess, struggling to keep one move ahead of her cousin. Days were spent in the fields on Iris or out in the gardens helping Bessie put some extra food on the table. Evenings she sat in the uncomfortable company of her female relations. Actually, only Leah was openly hostile. Eliza just stitched in melancholy silence while poor Danica tried to keep the atmosphere from getting too oppressive. It was miserable, but there was safety in numbers. And any company was better than Jake’s.

  Then a week of near ceaseless rain kept everyone trapped inside. Tempers flared, driving her to find some place out of reach of her uncle’s too ready fists. She stopped in front of the heavy door to the library, knocked out of habit and waited to be invited in. Idiot, she thought bitterly, and slipped inside, closing the door
behind her with a quiet snick.

  She’d not been in here for years, not since Isaac had caught her bent over a leather bound anatomy book almost larger than herself. Her uncle did not approve of women reading anything other than novels, and most definitely did not approve of her interest in medicine. He’d struck her then for the first time—though not the last—and ripped the book from her numbed hands. Worse yet, he’d forbidden her to ever enter here again, the one room that still held her papa’s essence.

  Wandering the perimeter, she ran tentative fingers over the dusty spines, reading titles in a half whisper. Here were old friends: Ivanhoe, Jane Eyre, a slender copy of Donne, several volumes of Shakespeare. She paused, pulling first one then another off the shelf until she found Taming of the Shrew. Had Travis been correct after all, and Captain Logan had quoted it at her? Setting it aside for further perusal, she continued her quiet reunion. Novels changed into history, politics, philosophy. Common Sense. The Wealth of Nations. Plato’s Republic. A history of the Napoleonic wars? I had no idea Papa was so widely read.

  But where are all of Papa’s medical books? Dragging a footstool from before the fireplace, she scanned the top levels of the ceiling high shelves. “There you are,” she said aloud. “Now, which of you would be best to study?” Herbal Remedies and Folk Medicines of the South? That sounded interesting, and useful, especially if that blasted blockade got much worse. Les Méthodes de la Chirurgie Moderne? What little French Star had learned was more useful in the parlor than in translating surgical manuals, but the illustrations needed little translation. Her hand rested a moment on a wide leather spine—the anatomy book that had gotten her in such trouble. That one came off the shelf with defiant speed.

  She stepped off her perch, gathered up her treasures to leave, then laid them carefully back down and drifted towards the back of the room like a boat caught in a current. Her father’s desk stood there, the dark cherry wood gleaming in the dim rain light from the window behind it. She hesitated by it, stroking the skin soft leather of his chair, and looked out over the cluttered desktop.

 

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