Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

Rebecca smiled with great pride.

Someone handed glasses of brandy to Sheridan and Rebecca.

"Congratulations," He paused and smiled at the couple before him. "General Redmond. Let us pray that with your leadership and determination we all find an end to this conflict soon, so you may return home to your lovely bride. Gentleman, please raise your glasses to Brigadier General Redmond and his lovely fiancéée."

Charlie smiled broadly. "Thank you, gentlemen. General, if you and your men would like to finish your lunch, Miss Rebecca and I will see to quarters for you. When you are ready, we can begin your review."

"Fine. Oh, and Redmond? You might want to change into a clean coat."

Chapter 20

Thursday, December 22

Sheridan was a hard driving commander. He had called Charlie and Polk into conference just as reveille was sounded. McCauley had trailed along with a large dispatch case in either hand. The four men had spent two grueling hours going over the requisition and supply problems that had plagued Charlie since he took over command of the 13th. They had eaten while they went through the ledgers and collected correspondence, trying to find solutions to the basic problem of preparing the 13th for a key role in the spring campaign. Charlie’s desk was piled high with papers and books before they were finished.

"Well, Redmond, as far as I can tell, you have about three quarters of what you need right now."

McCauley added, "And we are scheduled to ship the rest over the course of the next month."

"With all due respect, General and Colonel, the quality of materials we have received is, for the most part, atrocious. If one item in four is actually usable, I would be surprised. Polk, did you get those samples ready for me?"

"Yes, Sir. Duncan and Jocko worked for half the night pulling samples from every one of the lots in the stores."

"Well, have them bring them in. General, Colonel, I want you gentlemen to see just what kind of supplies your quartermaster has been sending us."

Polk rose from his chair beside Charlie’s desk and stuck his head out the door. He spoke muffled words to the trooper standing outside. He turned back into the room, picked up a roll of butcher’s paper and spread it over the large table Charlie used for his staff meetings.

First, Duncan hauled in small bags of flour, meal and salt pork. Behind him, Jocko lugged in several pairs of boots, britches and tunics. Silently the two men filed out, returning immediately with more sample items. Several blankets, a jumble of tack, various pieces of metalwork, and a pair of saddles came next. Finally, Duncan and Jocko carried in a large roll of heavy canvas, which from its clean, unstained appearance, had obviously never been used.

Charlie started with the food supplies. He opened the bag of corn meal and poured it onto the table. "Gentlemen, take a look. One in four bags of meal come in with these little fellows riding along." The little pile of yellow meal was moving, alive with small white grubs. As he poured the flour on the table he added, "Of course, they are clearly additional meat for the men. I have no idea what these are, although I suspect they are rodent feces." There were small, rod shaped black specks mixed in with the flour. "However, neither of these will kill my men. It just gives them a bellyache. Of course, there is the nausea my mess crew suffers from having to deal with it. This, on the other hand," he continued as he opened the third food package, "will kill." As he spoke, he rolled a piece of salt pork on the table, green with mold and moving with maggots. The smell was sickening.

Jocko stepped over and tore the paper off, carrying the offensive materials out of the office. Both Sheridan and McCauley looked slightly green. The salt pork had been a bit overwhelming.

Charlie turned to the uniforms and blankets. "As you can see, gentlemen, the blankets are pitiful." Charlie rolled out three blankets, each of which had holes that were clearly flaws in the basic cloth, rather than from wear. The uniforms were no better. "I cannot keep my men warm with clothes and blankets like this." He nodded to Duncan, who unrolled the canvas tent. The roof of the tent was stitched together, with a seam that was not completed because the canvas was thin and could not hold the stitches well enough to even try to patch it. It was obvious the tent would leak under the lightest of rains. "Nor do we have dry tents for them."

He laid the tack on top of the woolens. "The leather they send us for the horses is no better. Sometimes it comes in green with mildew. Of the last three batches of saddles that came in, almost half had broken trees." He pointed to the obviously unusable saddles. "But the best is the boots. We got an entire shipment of cavalry boots made out of rawhide. Do you know what happens when a rawhide boot gets wet? Let me tell you. They shrink and turn rock hard. We had to cut four of our men out of these. They were desperate; they had no boots so they tried to use what we had. It was very unpleasant, to say the least."

Charlie walked over to his gun cabinet and withdrew two carbines and a pair of pistols. He walked back to the table and held one of the pistols between two fingers by the grips. He gave the pistol a brisk shake. The pistol rattled and a small metal pin fell out. It was the only thing holding the trigger in place. He laid the other pistol beside its mate and opened the breeches of the two carbines. Neither of them had firing pins. "Of course, it does make it difficult to engage the enemy when we have no weapons that will fire."

Charlie looked at his General. "Sir, I contend that if we are to engage the enemy this spring, we will have to be properly supplied. The only resources that have been of the consistent quality needed to properly supply this force have been the horses provided by Cavalry Services. General Wilson’s efforts to organize our mounts were clearly successful; why can we not have the same quality effort from the Quartermaster General’s office?"

Sheridan looked to McCauley. "What have you found, Angus? Is this typical of what our troops are getting?"

"I am afraid so, sir. No one has presented such a…… forceful case before, but we have consistent problems with our suppliers."

Sheridan thought for a while then turned back to Charlie. "Well, General, I believe that your personal plans will require that you make a visit to the capitol in the not too far distant future. I will prepare some dispatches for you to deliver and suggest you take your little demonstration with you. I am sure General Meigs will be fascinated. I have known the man for a long time and find him to be honorable and well intentioned. I cannot say the same for some of the men in his command. In the mean time, I will do what I can to see to it that you get better quality supplies in the future. McCauley, please make a note that every single batch of materials for General Redmond be manually inspected before it is shipped. In fact, see to it that everything we get from the Quartermaster General be inspected. And feel absolutely no compunction about sending back anything that is substandard. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." The look on McCauley’s face would have been humorous if the situation had been any less grave.

Sheridan’s voice was silken as he went on. "And McCauley?" His adjutant looked up. "I will hold you personally responsible should any more shipments to the 13th or any other regiment under my command contain any substandard products." McCauley looked rather like a startled deer. Perhaps his lucrative case of selective blindness was now a thing of the past.

There was a long silence in the office, and then Sheridan slapped his hands on his thighs. "Gentlemen, I believe there is a contest about to start. Shall we go cheer the men on?"

--*--

As the officers arrived at the main paddock, Major Swallow was posting the official rules and scoring standards for the gymkhana. Each event would have individual winners; the judges for the event, drawn from the officers’ ranks, were also tallying the overall placement of each company. As Charlie had announced, the company with the most total points at the end of the two-day event would take the vanguard; the individual with the most points would be the color bearer. Within the regiment, these positions were the highest honor to which any trooper could aspire. There were also personal rewards for the winners of each event, all designed to help make the life of the winning trooper and his friends a little more pleasant. Hams, small kegs of brandy, fine coffee, tobacco, and a handful of passes to visit home for a week were assembled, ready to reward the winners.

The men had already assembled their teams in the big pasture. They had set the fences and brush jumps for a variety of cross-country races. These first events of the gymkhana were traditional races, each covering between two and three and a half miles, over rolling terrain. There were water hazards for some of the races, created by crossing shallow sections of the stream that ran through the pasture, wood jumps and brush jumps designed to look like the hedges that were common separators between fields.

The men had built some small stands, somewhat protected from the weather and the chill breeze from the north. Each had a few chairs, tables, and a small brazier to provide some warmth. These stands were for the officers and guests. Most of the residents of Culpeper had turned out in their best finery, such as it was, to watch the events. In addition, Sergeant Jamison and his mess crew had put together a small feast, with hot soup, ham and biscuits, coffee, tea, and a small mountain of apples for the men and guests to sample.

The races started with the shorter, easier stretches. The first was two miles, over wooden fences, with no water hazards or blind jumps. The best of the younger horses were being tested, with a fairly large number being fielded. Each company was represented by at least one rider, and in a couple of cases, two. The race went without incident, and the rider from Company A just nosed out one of Company D’s men for first place. A brief hiatus allowed the judges to clear the field and reset the course flags.

The next race was also short –– again only two miles, but over brush jumps designed to look like hedges. This race was also well represented. When jumping over wooden fences, the horses had to clear the fence completely; but when jumping over hedges, the smart horse and rider actually went through the top of the hedge, keeping as low to the ground as possible while still clearing the obstacle. It was always an exciting race, and one with more than a little risk from misjudging the jump. Too high, and you lost ground. Too low and you ran the risk of the horse stumbling and throwing the rider. The young horses being used for this shorter distance were just learning that fine line.

The race was running cleanly until one of the riders from Company C misjudged the second jump. The horse’s back foot dragged through the brush, and he stumbled as he landed, sending his rider directly over the horse’s head. The trooper tucked and rolled, as he had been taught. His mount gathered himself and managed to jump over the fallen rider, then continued to run the race. Several of the race judges ran to check on the fallen rider, who rose, bruised but otherwise unharmed, having only had the breath knocked out of him. Others raced to catch the riderless horse.

The mount was having none of that. He was running with his herd, a young, dominant stallion. Winning the race was as important for the horse as it had been for his rider. He took each jump with ease, gaining on the lead horse steadily. By the time the race was over, the young stallion had outrun every mounted animal in the race and eluded the judges’ attempts to remove him. Riderless, he crossed the finish line first then pranced and kicked his heals in pleasure at his accomplishment. The crowd laughed and cheered at his antics. Unfortunately, without a rider, he was not qualified to win. However, all of the young gallants within the troopers ranks made a mental note to try and claim this fine young fellow as their own regular mount.

The next four races proceeded with minimal incidents and no disastrous injuries. One horse pulled a hock, another bruised her knee from a bad landing, but there were no broken bones. The riders were not quite so lucky, as one rider managed to dislocate his shoulder and another broke a collarbone. Dr. Walker and Samuelson tended to the human casualties, while Tarent and McFarlane managed the equine patients.

A late lunch was enjoyed by all, with a bit of strained socializing between the Culpeper citizens and the officers from both Charlie’s and Sheridan’s commands. Mayor Frazier and General Sheridan retired to a quiet corner where they were seen having a very intense discussion on the condition of the county. Words like "seed stock" and "winter supplies" were heard drifting from their impromptu conference.

Finally, Mayor Frazier stood, the veins in his forehead standing out. "General, how do you expect us to recover? We were a thriving town with over fifteen hundred citizens. Now we are less than one hundred and fifty old men, women, and children with no resources and no hope for the future. Where do you think we will find the means to do anything other than starve, freeze, or rot away this winter?"

Sheridan looked startled. Frazier rejoined Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, who were chatting with Elizabeth and Rebecca. Charlie, dressed in britches, boots, and short tunic because he had been serving as a mounted race judge and was also to ride soon, was quietly tending to the ladies, bringing cups of hot tea for them. Sheridan had started towards what he hoped would be a more accepting group when the next race was announced. He sighed, and made a mental note to discuss the situation with Charlie later.

The seventh race of the day was exciting. Only one entrant from each company was allowed. Each team had put forward their best rider and horse for this demanding course. It had both brush and wood jumps, a water jump, several combination jumps and a blind drop in the three and a half mile span. Because of the difficulty of the course, the company that won would receive double points in the cumulative total and the individual winner would receive a two week pass –– long enough to catch the supply train for a visit back home.

Every rider was keyed up for this critical race. The first start was called back, as one horse had broken early. After some milling around to calm the horses, the flag dropped again.

Nine horses and riders broke cleanly this time. For the first mile, they ran in a tight cluster, with two and three horses running side by side, almost in formation, over the first jumps. As the horses moved through the water jump, one rider’s stirrup leather snapped, startling the horse and nearly dropping the rider. But he hung on manfully, righting himself in the saddle and continuing on.

The blind jump forced the riders to spread out a bit, since controlling the horses as they dropped the four feet of the jump presented more risk than a regular jump. As the riders started to spread, young Duncan, riding for Company H, moved into second place. Through the combination jump, he held his position then let his rawboned buckskin have his head for the dead run to the finish line. After more than three miles of hard riding, this last spurt to the finish line was a measure both of the endurance of the horse and the skill of the rider in husbanding his mount’s energy. The final sprint was close; the rider from Company D was determined to prove his mettle as well. Montgomery’s men had something special to prove. They were determined to show they were just as good or even better soldiers as any in the regiment, regardless of the problems Monty and his cronies like Davison had created. Riding neck and neck with Duncan, Raiford from Company D kept repeating to his horse "We gotta win. We gotta. Go, boy." Subtly, gently, so the judges could not see, Duncan eased back on his mount, giving Raiford the lead. More than most, Duncan understood.

As the winners from the seventh race were being recognized, Charlie stepped behind Duncan. "Pulled him a bit, did you?"

"No, sir. He just did not have as much left as I thought."

"Right. Well, you are a good man, Duncan. A good man. I would be proud to have you carry the colors for me."

"Well, sir, you never know. There are still tomorrow’s contests."

Charlie smiled and moved away. It was time for the officers’ race; he was riding although if he and Jack won, the rewards and points would go to the line officer that placed first. The officers’ circuit was a complex double figure eight around the course, followed by a long straight on the outside track. The race was a little over three and a half miles, a test of both the rider’s skill and the horse’s endurance. The field was limited to one officer from each company plus one officer from the general staff. As the riders assembled, Charlie noted that the same young lieutenant who had brought word of Montgomery’s injuries was riding for Company D. He nudged Jack over to stand beside the young man and wished him luck.

Jack was full of energy. All day he had watched the other horses race, while Charlie held him back. From Jack’s point of view, this was unfair. Now he had a chance to show off, to prove he was the dominant stallion in this herd. Charlie had his hands full as the horses lined up for the start. The flag dropped and Jack was off before Charlie had a chance to do more than settle in the saddle.

Jack took the lead immediately, trying to shake off Charlie’s attempts to hold him back and conserve some energy for the sprint at the end. As far as Jack was concerned, Charlie could tell him where to go, but they were going there at Jack’s pace, not Charlie’s.

The pace the horses set was brutal. Charlie constantly tried to check Jack’s speed, but the big black just took the bit between his teeth and charged on. Jack sailed through the first series of jumps, and leapt into the water, throwing a huge spray of icy foam behind him as he plunged ahead. The horse had been watching; he knew that the blind drop had a long, down-sloping flat after it. He sailed long over the drop then gathered himself for the combination jump. Jump, stride, stride, jump, stride, stride, jump. Then Jack was off to the final straight with only two jumps to go. Charlie let himself look back for a moment.

Right off Jack’s left flank, the young Lieutenant, Major Swallow’s cousin from Company D, was hanging on for dear life. His mount was heavily lathered; the boy was sheet white and his jaw was locked, but they kept the pace. The two horses, one coal black, the other a light chestnut almost a hand shorter than Jack fairly flew over the ground, brushing through the last two jumps as though they had wings. The rest of the field was almost ten furlongs behind, but it did not matter. This was an issue of honor, of excellence, of rising to the challenge.

Jack refused to let the smaller horse take the lead. The big black reached deep into himself and found the energy for a final sprint. The chestnut still kept pace, and they crossed the finish line with Jack in the lead by less than a length. As the Lieutenant came across the line, and tracked into the cool down zone, the boys of Company D literally mobbed their young officer. They raised him to their shoulders and bore him off to preside at the dinner of roast venison that went to the winner of the officers’ race. Tarent personally took charge of the light boned chestnut, checking to make sure that the dead out run had not blown the beast.

Charlie wiped the sweat from his forehead then rubbed Jack’s nose. "Good boy. You just had to have your head, old fellow." McFarlane took the reins from Charlie as Sheridan, Rebecca and a host of others swept up to the winner’s circle. McCauley was noticeably absent, no doubt handling the myriad of details Sheridan had dumped on his lap as a result of the morning meeting.

"Well done, Redmond," the General grinned at his commander. "Now, we shall see if you can resolve some of the other problems we face as well as you ran this race."

Charlie looked at Rebecca with a rueful smile and shrugged. His General had called.

--*--

The light of day had long since waned as the four men sat amid piles of papers, rolled maps, assorted tax ledgers, and empty coffee mugs. Charlie was still dressed in his britches and field tunic, smelling of a strange combination of horse sweat, cigars, and the smudge from the fireplace that was not drawing as well as it should. When the wind blew from the southwest, the chimney always backed up. It was but a small burden to an experienced field officer, and having an office with a fireplace was a luxury.

"So, Charlie. If you get the seed you asked for, do you think you can at least give these folks the basics to get started on the road back?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Most of my men have been very willing to help these people rebuild."

Polk added, "To be honest, sir, I think they are glad to be doing something other than fighting or sitting around waiting. For many of them, it feels a little like being at home to be mending fences, winter-plowing fields, and repairing roofs."

"Well, that is good. But I am still worried about the more vehement elements of this little society."

"That continues to be a problem. But one at a time, we are bringing them over."

"Well, if you can bring Mrs. Williams over, it may constitute a miracle." McCauley had listened politely to Mrs. Williams during the luncheon earlier that day. She had managed to offend every union officer present.

Charlie snorted. He stood and stretched. "A brandy, General?"

"Yes, thank you."

Charlie looked inquiringly at the other two men then poured brandies for each of them. A silence hung in the room, as they had one more issue to deal with and none of the men wanted to broach the subject. Montgomery.

Finally, Sheridan addressed the problem, starting with the summary dismissal of Davison and his small group of cronies.

"You know, Redmond, I have confirmed your dishonorable discharge of Davison and the others. But I still worry about them. They are just the kind of men to stay in the area and prey on the locals. Keep a sharp eye out." Sheridan considered his brandy for a moment, then added, "And if they do cause trouble, turn them over to the civilian authorities, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. However, sir, I believe I am part of the civilian authority here right now, as the regional representative of the U.S. Government."

"Yes, but get Frazier and the others involved. I am afraid if they do create trouble, it will be serious trouble. I would rather see the locals handle any capital crime."

Sheridan finished his brandy and held his glass out for another tot. "As for Montgomery, I am afraid there is no option but to hold a court martial. Since you two, Swallow, Mrs. Gaines, and several of your men are all witnesses, I will not have any of you sit the panel. Merritt and Colonel James will serve with me, and you, McCauley, will serve as the defense advocate. Howard will serve as prosecuting officer. If Montgomery is well enough, we will hold it immediately after Christmas." Sheridan finished off the second brandy in one swallow. He hated having any of his men come to trial, especially an officer and on such vicious charges. "Now, with that settled, gentlemen, shall we clean up and join the ladies for dinner?"

--*--

Jocko had thoughtfully hauled a bath up to Rebecca’s small sitting room so Charlie could bathe without having to share the bathing room with Sheridan and his staff and thus maintain his masculine image.

As Charlie sat in the small tin tub before the fire, Rebecca pulled her sleeves up and captured the washrag. She began scrubbing his back thoroughly. "I swear, Charlie, I have no idea how you do it. You wear a singlet, a shirt, a vest, stock, and a coat and still you get mud all down your back."

"Jack was very affectionate when I visited him in the stable. He drooled on me and I assume, shared some of his chewed up hay. It itched all through this afternoon’s meeting with Sheridan and McCauley. It was all I could do to stay in the room and not rub up against the door jamb."

Rebecca laughed, the image of Charlie trying to discretely scratch his own back against the fireplace or the door jamb like a big bear, while looking cool and collected in front of his commanding officer, was too funny.

"So, dear, you disappeared after the races. Did you and the General have another epic session?"

"We did. Much of our discussion was centered on what to do about Montgomery. I am afraid Sheridan will want you to testify. He intends to hold a court martial just after Christmas, before he returns to his own headquarters. Do you think Montgomery is fit enough for that?"

Charlie could not see the look on Rebecca’s face. The idea of testifying at any time was distasteful; the thought of repeating what Montgomery had said in front of a room full of Union Army officers was downright revolting. However, for Charlie’s sake, she would. "Montgomery is fit, and, of course, I will testify. I suppose it is necessary."

Charlie turned to look at Rebecca. The look on her face told the story. "Dear, I will talk to him again. Perhaps we can get by without you."

"Thank you, dear, but if it is necessary, I will do it."

Charlie rose from the bath. The sight of her beautiful body, gleaming wet, shining in the firelight was enough to distract Rebecca from her brooding concern over Montgomery. Charlie looked at Rebecca as she dried off, recognizing the lustful looks she was being graced with. "That, dear, will have to wait until later. The General and his staff will be expecting us to join them for dinner."

"Oh, la. You think just because you are beautiful when you are naked, I cannot resist the impulse to touch you. Just you wait, Charlie Redmond. I have as much willpower as the next."

Charlie dried off and went into the bedroom to retrieve her clothes. "Well, dear, you have more will power than I do, for I swear, I cannot resist you when you are naked."

The two of them proceeded to dress quietly. Finally, just as they were about to go downstairs, Charlie thought to ask again. "So do you think that Montgomery is ready for the trial?"

Rebecca looked thoughtful. "Well, he is regaining his strength and can be up and about somewhat. But I have no idea if his mind has the strength to understand what is really happening. Elizabeth will have to be consulted."

"I know she will, and I dread it. We could be in a situation where she saved his life just to have him hanged. I know her. She will not be happy."

--*--

Friday, December 23, 1864

Day two of the gymkhana was far more military than the previous events. Racing and horsemanship had been the focus of the first day; today weapons skills were the theme. At this point in the competition, the men of Company D were tied with Company A for leadership. A young man from Company A was leading in the personal points with the soldier, Raiford, from Company D who had run neck and neck with Duncan in second place.

The competition opened earlier than on the previous day, as there were more and more varied events scheduled. Charlie led the senior officers in a demonstration of precision formation riding as the opening ceremony. The sight of those beautiful horses, moving in step, wheeling and turning, weaving back and forth, all under rigorous control by officers who barely moved as they conveyed their commands to the mounts under them, was stirring. The only sound was the crisp tattoo of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground as they moved silently through their routine.

As a finale, the officers formed their mounts into a single, perfect line facing the audience. As one, the horses bowed to the audience, while their riders doffed their plumed hats. The silence continued for a long breath, then the audience broke into sustained applause. These officers may have been the enemy, but the people of Culpeper were horse lovers, first and foremost. The demonstration was an awesome presentation of equestrian skill at its best.

There were three types of contest scheduled for the day. In one area, men on foot demonstrated their marksmanship with both carbine and pistol. In another, they demonstrated their skill with sword and saber. But the most exciting contests of the gymkhana were mounted events.

The men competed in pairs, with one competitor eliminated at each pass. The first competition was one that demonstrated the rider’s skills in lance work. Rings were laid on the ground at intervals; each horseman had to collect as many rings as possible on the tip of their lance while preventing his opponent from collecting any.

Typically, this competition resulted in a number of bumps and bruises, and the occasional unseating, but no serious injuries. There were a number of competitors, with the less experienced troopers going first. Wielding eight foot long bamboo lances with blunted tips, the early competitors provided some excitement and some amusement as several of the younger men managed to unseat themselves by overextending out of the saddle. As the competitive field narrowed to the more experienced men, the demonstration of equestrian skill and dexterity drew loud rounds of applause. At the end, somewhat battered and bruised, a grizzled career trooper from Company B stood grinning as General Sheridan himself awarded him the first prize, a small keg of good brandy.

Swordplay was the next of the equestrian events. In this competition, the pairs of men again used their weapons to retrieve items from the ground. However, they were required to cross sabers at least once with each pass. Even though the competitors used blunted sabers and were usually careful to use only the flat of the blade, there were a few cuts and scratches that kept Samuelson busy through the late morning and early afternoon. Unexpectedly, the young man from Company D excelled in this arena, as he had in the hand-to-hand saber contest earlier in the morning.

The last mounted events were demonstrations of marksmanship with first carbines and then pistols. Three targets were mounted at varying distances from the course. Each rider had to complete the course in a specified period of time and to shoot at the targets as they rode by. Points were awarded for both the speed at which the course was ridden and the accuracy of the shots. Here Duncan, the winner of the lance competition and Raiford from Company D were all serious competitors. After three passes, the men were tied. Sheridan and Charlie looked at one another and decided to reward all three, giving each of them both the prize and the points for first place. Jamison scrambled in his stores to find two extra hams for them.

The final competition was the sharp shooters’ demonstration. Here, a number of the troopers from Bucks County, men who had grown up hunting for their primary meat supply, excelled. Duncan led the Ohio boys. Of the Pennsylvanians, Raiford, the young man from Company D was far and away the leader.

As the marksmanship competition ended, Hoffstader, Polk and McCauley all huddled over the scoring table. The winning company was clear. Company D had placed in every single event. They would be the vanguard company for the coming campaign, under Charlie’s personal command. The position of flag bearer was more problematic. There were three men who had demonstrated consistent personal excellence; their scores were very close. The career trooper from Company B, Raiford from Company D and Duncan from Company H, were all in the running.

Charlie joined the scorekeepers and looked over the results. He then faced the waiting troopers, drawn up into formation to hear the results.

"Gentlemen, as we have all seen, Company D has outdone itself and the rest of you in performance over the last two days. As promised, Company D will have the honor of riding as the Vanguard of the 13th Pennsylvania for the spring campaign. In addition, gentlemen, I offer you the services of Sergeant Jamison for your dinner this evening. Enjoy the feast."

He then called the three individual winners forward. "These three men have distinguished themselves in all aspects of this contest. Their scores are so close that it is very difficult to distinguish among them. I award each of you a three-week pass, with access to the rail system, so that you can go and visit your families. I ask that you be back in camp no later than February first. In addition, since I cannot clearly declare one man the overall winner, I have decided to name Raiford of Company D the flag bearer, while Nailer will serve as my personal aide and Thomson will serve as Colonel Polk’s personal aide. Congratulations to all of you. And now, gentlemen and guests, please avail yourselves of the refreshments that we have prepared. I wish all of you a very merry Christmas."

Charlie stepped down, escorting the three winners back into the crowd of their fellow troopers. It pleased him that he had seen a combination of both Ohio and Pennsylvania troops working together. It seemed his plan for creating a cohesive team was working.

--*--

Saturday, December 24, 1864

Charlie rose early the next morning to see several ambassadors of good will off on their rounds. Some of the men who had been on the various work details around the county had seen the plight of the women and children living in this barren war zone. In their spare time, a number of the men had made small toys for the children and various housewares for the women. Several groups set off in high spirits to deliver their gifts.

Charlie and Jocko joined one of these groups for the first few miles of their Christmas journey. Charlie wanted one thing more for the Christmas decorations –– a sprig of mistletoe to enliven the festivities. As the men rode, they searched the treetops, barren with winter, for that bright flash of green that signified the parasitic plant’s presence. Finally, in an old oak, gnarled by time and wind, they saw the ball of green, speckled with white berries.

The ball of greenery was far too high in the old tree for even the lightest and most nimble of the men to climb to it. Charlie pulled his pistol, took careful aim and fired. The foliage exploded, with sprigs of green falling like rain. Jocko scrambled off his horse, gathered the mistletoe and carefully wrapped the best sprigs in his handkerchief. Charlie was thrilled. His men were amused.

"Yup, General, sir. Just look at what happens to a fella when a pretty lady falls into their lives."

"Yeah. He goes out and starts shooting at trees."

"Well, boys, it certainly gives me a good excuse to kiss the lady."

The men rode on their way, laughing and joking at the General’s expense. Charlie and Jocko headed back to the house, grinning and planning where they would plant their little green bits of Christmas cheer.

--*--

Corporal Nailer and Reg were covered in a fine powder of snow. Duncan’s face was red and a fine mist of sweat had turned to frost in his blond eyebrows. Reg was just as flushed, his dark skin almost plum colored with the combination of cold and exertion. Jeremiah danced around both men as they struggled to bring the huge, long leafed pine tree they had cut and hauled across half the paddocks in Gaines Cove farm. Unfortunately, Duncan had promised Jeremiah he could pick the Christmas tree. The boy wanted it to be perfect, so the two men had trudged several miles, hauling a sledge and trying to keep warm.

The two men struggled to set the tree in the stand that Duncan had built and set it up in the great hall. Jeremiah’s excited voice brought the entire household to the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it would seem these fine men have found a beautiful tree for our first Christmas celebration," Rebecca paused briefly, giving Em a kiss on the temple as the baby clung to her. "The first of many happy celebrations at Redmond Stables." She waited, hiding the grin and wondering when people would make the connection. It had been quite a week for Charlie.

Elizabeth, standing with Polk and admiring the beautiful tree, looked at Rebecca with a gentle smile. Charlie had his hands full; several of his troopers had followed Duncan and Reg into the hall, bearing great boughs of holly and greenery. One small, agile fellow quietly handed Charlie a sprig of gray green leaves with fine white berries, tied with a small red ribbon. The two men grinned at one another. The Christmas mistletoe had been retrieved and Charlie had plans for this sprig.

Sheridan and McCauley did hear Rebecca’s comment. "Yes, indeed, Miss Rebecca. I look forward to spending many happy days here at Redmond Stables when the war is over. That is, of course, if I am still welcome here, Charlie."

Charlie and Jocko were preoccupied with stringing a rope of long leaf pine over the entrance of the front parlor. Absentmindedly, Charlie agreed. "Of course, General. You and McCauley and the rest of the men will always be welcome, will they not, Miss Rebecca?"

Rebecca decided Charlie was truly hopeless and smiled at her love. "Absolutely, General." She hugged Em close to her and smiled at Elizabeth, who was nearly on the verge of full-fledged laughter at her friend’s predicament.

Charlie very carefully tied his little sprig of mistletoe into the rope of evergreen. "Indeed. I have always hoped to have a home that was open and welcoming to my friends. I am very grateful Miss Rebecca shares my sentiments." He moved to one side. "Say, Polk, would you and Elizabeth step over here and tell me if you think the tree is straight? I think it may be leaning somewhat."

Polk joined his commander. He looked at the tree with his fists resting on his hips. "Looks fine to me Charlie. Are you blind as well as deaf?"

Charlie looked at Polk with a bit of confusion? "Deaf? No, I am not deaf. What makes you say that?"

Polk was laughing so hard now he had to take a step back and lean against the wall to keep from falling down. Elizabeth stepped up and looped her arm through Charlie's. "My dear friend, where do you intend to live after the war?"

Charlie flushed a bit. "Well, I was planning to make this my home. You know that."

"Difficult to do from the frontier, would you not think, General?" Sheridan was quick to bring a glass to his lips to hide his grin. Charlie Redmond was a good man, even if he was a little slow on the uptake sometimes.

Charlie flushed a deep red. "Um. Well, you know, General, I will have spent twenty years in the army by next summer. I was thinking when the conflict is over, I might serve better helping this community recover from the effects of the war. After Buena Vista, the west just does not hold much appeal to me."

"Well, if you are determined to retire, Redmond Stables seems like the perfect place to do it."

"Redmond Stables?" Charlie’s initial confusion turned slowly to recognition as he looked to Rebecca.

"Yes, Charlie. Redmond Stables. The home of General and Mrs. Redmond. The finest horse farm in all of Virginia." She moved to his side and placed a kiss on his cheek. "My wedding gift to you, darling."

Charlie stood there under the mistletoe he had carefully hung for Polk and Elizabeth, with the impression of Rebecca’s lips on his cheek, looking rather like a pole axed ox. Everyone in the room was silent as they watched realization dawn on Charlie’s face.

Jocko swirled a measure of good whiskey in his glass as he watched his friend. Taking a deep breath he leaned over to have a word with McCauley. "General Sheridan made a good choice with that one. Charlie Redmond is a fine man. Irish you know. Member of a very famous clan."

McCauley looked to the batman and raised a brow. "Really?"

"‘Tis true. Largest clan in Ireland. The clan O’Blivious."

The batman’s words dropped into the silence like a rock shattering the calm of a pond. It did not take long for Sheridan's assistant to get the joke and soon he was laughing with Jocko as the two men poured another drink. Slowly, the meaning dawned on the rest of the guests and a slow ripple of realization ran through the room. When all eyes turned to them and the laughter had died down again, Jocko looked over the crowd. "Pay no attention to us. Go back to your party. General Redmond has plans for that sprig he just hung." The batman gestured to the doorway.

Richard Polk, who had inevitably gravitated to Elizabeth’s side during the conversation, stepped up. "Move aside, my friend, and let the rest of us take advantage of the tradition." Charlie and Rebecca stepped away from the doorway, moving to the side to speak quietly together for a moment. Richard, still laughing, drew Elizabeth with him to stand beneath the white berries. "Merry Christmas, Doctor Walker." With that, he kissed the normally formal and proper lady heartily on either cheek and then fleetingly on the lips.

"Merry Christmas, Colonel." She smiled and leaned up a bit to return the kiss, but not the ones bestowed on her cheeks. "Very Merry Christmas, Richard." She whispered against his lips. Then she pulled back before the occupants of the room accused her of taking advantage of the Colonel.

Before anyone commented on the obvious relationship, Phil Sheridan, who was usually a rather taciturn gentleman, stepped up beside his old friend and offered a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Elizabeth."

"Merry Christmas, Philip." She took his arm and allowed him to escort her into the crowd.

Charlie stood in the shadow of the Christmas tree, facing Rebecca and gently holding her hands between them. "Redmond Stables?"

All around them, people began the bustle of trimming the tree, with ribbons, tiny white candles, delicate glass ornaments that Duncan had found in the attic, and strings of berries and popcorn that the ladies and Jeremiah had been making for several days.

"Yes, Charlie. I think it is only fitting. I filed the papers this week. Half of the land is now yours. It is the only thing I have to offer you, other than my love." She blushed, running her hand over his tunic.

"My love, you have given me something I never thought I would have. A future, filled with love and hope. I love you, Rebecca Gaines." As the plain pine tree was transformed into the living symbol of Christmas, slowly Charlie’s face began to reflect his growing faith in his dreams becoming reality.

--*--

The tree was trimmed, the house was decorated, and all was ready for the evening as darkness closed in. The adults of the house retired to their various quarters to rest and dress for the dinner, while the children were herded off to the old school room to share dinner, Christmas pudding, and games before bedtime. Charlie had driven both Sarah and Mess Chief Jamison to distraction with preparing a Christmas Eve dinner that would both honor his commanding officer and impress the local citizens he had invited. As the clock chimed seven, the civilian guests arrived at the house. Reverend Williams and his wife had joined the Coopers in their buggy. Mayor Frazier had accompanied them, riding on his old nag.

Reg was dressed as befitted the butler of a fine house. He met the guests at the door, and with Lizbet’s assistance, relieved them of their winter wraps. Charlie and Rebecca were waiting for them in the formal front parlor, with a warm fire dancing on the hearth and a selection of hot beverages, milk punch, and brandy to dispel the chill of the evening drive.

"Good evening, Mrs. Williams, Reverend." Charlie was in full Southern gentleman mode, dressed in his formal evening uniform with his new stars shining on his shoulders and wearing his South Carolinian heritage like a medal on his chest.

"Good evening Col..."

Before Mrs. Williams could finish, Rebecca cleared her throat and Reverend Williams gave his wife a not so polite nudge.

"General Redmond," she acknowledged with a slight tilt of her head.

"Old bat," Rebecca grumbled under her breath.

"Mrs. Cooper, you look lovely tonight. Cooper, good to see you again."

"Thank you, General." Mrs. Cooper winked at Rebecca. "You look radiant this evening, my dear. I do believe being in love agrees with you."

"It does. It truly does." Rebecca tightened her hand on Charlie's arm.

Wordlessly, Cooper reached out and shook Charlie’s hand, grinning his congratulations.

Charlie turned to Frazier, who was rubbing his hands. "Damned cold out there, General. Hope the dinner is worth it."

Charlie laughed. "I assure you, Mayor, the dinner is as good as both our cook Sarah and our mess sergeant could make it."

"Sarah is your cook? Ah, well, then, it should be worth the chilblains."

At that point, Sheridan, McCauley, and Polk entered the room.

"May I introduce my commanding officer, Philip Sheridan and his adjutant, Colonel McCauley? I believe you all know Colonel Polk."

Introductions were flowing like wine when Dr. Walker and Whitman escorted Constance Adams into the room. Rebecca noticed immediately the young woman did not look well and immediately made her a place to sit near the fire.

"Are you all right?"

"Thank you, I am feeling somewhat better. And the company will do me good. It is very hard to lie abed all day while so much is going on around me. And I must confess, I have always loved Christmas."

Quietly, Whitman slipped over to stand beside the frail woman. A quiet look passed between the big, shaggy haired man and the small, perfectly coiffed woman. Rebecca turned to the rest of her guests.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy each others’ company tonight and let us rejoice in the love and friendship we have all found in this time of hardship. Let us pray for a quick end to the conflict that keeps us from our loved ones. May this be the first of many happy Christmas celebrations in our home." She turned and smiled at Charlie. "And I would like to take this moment to say how happy and proud I am of my fiancéé, the newly commissioned Brigadier General Charles Redmond."

Phil Sheridan took the floor. "Charles Redmond has served this country with distinction for many years." Sheridan walked over to stand beside Charlie. He indicated one of the medals on his officer’s chest. "Indeed. He won this for his heroic action at the Battle of Buena Vista during the Mexican conflict." Sheridan faced Charlie. "You were only sixteen at the time, I believe, and a new recruit when you stepped up after your sergeant and lieutenant were both killed and led your men to safety." He turned back to the rest of the guests. "You may not be aware of this, but Charlie served under Captain Lee at Buena Vista. As a matter of fact, he attended West Point on Lee’s recommendation." Glancing back to Charlie, he asked, "I believe you also served with Lee at Fort Pulaski, in Georgia, did you not?"

"Yes. He was Colonel Lee at the time, and I must say, I learned a great deal from him. I believe he has long been one of my greatest role models. When I had to choose between nation and state, I went to him for advice. He told me to follow my conscience and my faith, as he himself would do."

"Well, Charlie, I wish that Robert had chosen the same way you did, but I honor him for his choice." He turned back to the assembled guests. "I believe General Redmond has long since earned his stars. So tonight, let us celebrate our host and his generosity and courage, as is appropriate in this season of remembering God’s most precious gifts."

Charlie was appropriately humble, blushing at Sheridan’s praise. Reg peeked in through the parlor door, offering Charlie respite from being the center of attention. "Thank you, General. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I believe supper is ready. Mrs. Williams, may I escort you in?"

The woman nodded politely and took Charlie's proffered arm. Rebecca smiled and took the arm offered her by General Sheridan. The General said quietly, "Charlie is a very lucky man. I hope you both will be very happy."

"Thank you, General. I think we will."

Polk claimed Elizabeth’s hand, and Whitman very gently escorted Constance in to dinner.

The room was lit with a multitude of small white tapers and decorated with fresh evergreens, holly, and ivy. Charlie seated Mrs. Williams to his right, taking the head of the table, while Rebecca took her position at the foot of the table with General Sheridan to her right. The others found their places at the table, each marked with a beautifully lettered card in a small porcelain holder. Beulah and Reg served the opening course of potted trout, followed by a delicate soup of clarified chicken broth with winter greens. The main course followed, a fine rack of venison. At first, conversation was traditionally formal, with the weather, the crops grown in the area and other comfortably neutral subjects being discussed. But as the guests grew more comfortable with one another, conversation turned to the condition of the economy and land around Culpeper.

As Reg cleared away the plates from the main course, Mayor Frazier leaned forward. "General Sheridan, as I said the other day, when the war started, Culpeper was thriving. The county was rich with productive farms and several of the best stud stables in Virginia. Since then, the armies of both sides have rolled through this county over and over, churning the crops to mud, tearing down the fences, stealing the horses so we have no breeding stock left, no seed, no nothing. There are less than one hundred fifty people left in Culpeper who were here when the war started. The rest have died in battle, been killed by marauders, died of disease brought on by lack of good food, warm clothes or medical care, or left because there is no way to make a living here."

Sheridan responded thoughtfully. "This part of Virginia has paid a terrible price for this conflict. As you know, General Redmond is under direct orders to do everything he can to help you rebuild."

Mrs. Williams could not hold back her anger. She interrupted abruptly. "All of this pain and suffering is your fault, General Sheridan –– yours and all the Yankees like you who have torn our rights from us and tried to take our glorious heritage and way of life from us."

The guests held their breaths. Such vitriol was an unheard of breach of etiquette. And while all of the guests present might not agree with the politics the Union officers represented, they had accepted the invitation from Rebecca Gaines knowing full well that General Sheridan was the guest of honor.

Mr. Williams finally stepped in. "Mrs. Williams, remember yourself. I am now, and always have been, a man of peace. I expect you to respect my position and to respect our hostess and her guests." He turned to Rebecca. "Mrs. Gaines, please accept my sincere apologies for this outburst." He then scanned the rest of the assembled guests. "I, for one, welcome intelligent discussion of how to return my community to the health and prosperity it once knew. For that, I am grateful to you for your honest concern. Now, I fear I must excuse my wife and myself. She clearly is not herself this evening."

Charlie stood. "Certainly, we all understand, Reverend Williams. I will see to it that Mr. and Mrs. Cooper return home safely. I am sure we all hope that Mrs. Williams is feeling more herself tomorrow."

The rest of the evening was subdued, with dessert, a lovely presentation of poached apples, served quickly. Shortly after, Polk volunteered to see the Coopers home.

Elizabeth and Whitman helped Constance upstairs. The stress of the confrontation had drained the young woman. Finally, Charlie and Rebecca stood together beside the Christmas tree, the guests all retired to their respective quarters or homes.

"Well, my dear, that went reasonably well, do you not think so?" Charlie stood behind Rebecca and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Rebecca reached back and caressed Charlie's cheek. "I think so, General. You were a charming host. However, I am afraid that Reverend Williams is going straight to Hell for telling such lies."

Charlie threw his head back and laughed. "Are you suggesting, my dear, that Mrs. Williams was very much herself this evening?"

"Very much. Good Lord, Charlie," Rebecca turned to face him. "I am surprised she lasted as long as she did. I noticed she managed to hold her tongue until after dinner."

"Well, dear, she may be a shrew, but she is not a fool. And she does enjoy a good meal. So consider it a compliment to Sarah’s skills."

"I suppose so." She yawned then sighed. "I am tired, Charlie, and I have had enough contemplation of the despicable Mrs. Williams for this evening. Take me to bed."

"Willingly, my beloved." Charlie swept Rebecca up in his arms and proceeded to march up stairs. "Shall we go and enjoy the first of many Christmas Eves together, my love?"

"We shall dear." She held close to him as they went up the steps. "You know, I have never slept with a General before."

"Well, darling, you will tonight. But I fear we will not be able to sleep in late tomorrow, for I heard little Em telling Lizbet she wanted to get up early to see what ‘‘pwesents’ Father Christmas had brought her."

Chapter 21

December 25, 1864

The first silver light of false dawn had just begun to lighten the shades when Charlie woke. He was curled around Rebecca’s body, keeping her warm through the chilliest part of the night. He had an uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

Very carefully, he untangled himself from Rebecca, moving quietly so as not to awaken her. Slowly he rolled over and opened his eyes.

A pair of very serious blue eyes topped with tousled black hair looked back at him. "Mewwy Chwistmas, Papa." Tess had admonished the little girl that asking what Father Christmas brought her was not polite. Good little girls said ‘‘Merry Christmas.’ Today, Em wanted her presents as quickly as possible, so being good was very important.

Two little hands appeared at the edge of the bed. The bed was too high for her to climb into without help. "Up, Papa," she demanded. "Em cold."

Charlie reached one arm out. Two very cold little hands wrapped themselves around his wrist and he pulled the child up onto the bed and under the covers with him. Considerable squirming resulted as the child happily settled in and managed quickly to maneuver herself to the warmest spot in the bed - between Charlie and Rebecca. Rebecca’s first conscious awareness of the morning was a pair of very cold little feet tucked against her side.

Without rolling over Rebecca murmured. "We have a guest."

Em cuddled against Rebecca’s back. "Mewwy Chwistmas, Mamma ‘‘Becca."

Rebecca rolled over and wrapped the little girl in her arms, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Em. Do you know how early it is? Could you let Papa and me sleep just a little more?"

Em knew she was not allowed to go down the big stairs by herself, but Papa had told her last night that someone called Father Christmas was going to come and put a surprise under the big tree just for her. She did not quiet understand why he was going to do this, but that did not matter. What mattered was that she was getting a big surprise and she could not wait to get down there and see what it was. Excited blue eyes looked back at Rebecca. "No, now."

Charlie, who normally rose at this hour anyway, was thoroughly enjoying watching Em wrap Rebecca around her little finger. Usually, he was the object of the child’s demands; this time, Rebecca was definitely in the child’s sights.

Rebecca looked to Charlie who was watching the exchange with a huge smile on his face. "Oh, you hush up, Charles Redmond!" she scolded with a smile of her own.

"Does that mean I should get up and stoke the fire, dear? I could put your kettle on the hob as well, if you wish." Charlie was all sweetness and solicitation, but there was a wicked little gleam in his eye.

"Yes, I think that is exactly what that means, you evil man. Em and I will just stay nice and warm all tucked away in the down. You may fetch us when the room warms up." She paused and smiled at him, "considerably."

Charlie rose and shrugged into his robe. A little searching was necessary, as the carpet slippers that normally resided right beside the bed where he could step into them had somehow gone wandering. Finally, he knelt down and rummaged under the bed, dredging the slippers back from where two small, bare feet had kicked them as their small visitor had climbed up his arm. As he stoked the fire, coaxing flames from the banked coals and carefully feeding more wood to heat the room, he heard giggles and some very high pitched squeals coming from beneath the covers.

He filled the kettle from the pitcher, set it on the hob and walked back over to the bed. There were no heads showing, but under the down comforter there was quite a bit of suspicious movement. "Are you two having a command conference in there?"

"Yes, we are, Papa," came the muffled reply that Charlie knew had to be Rebecca. "We are discussing what Father Christmas may have brought you this morning."

"Oh, dear. I hope I have not been too bad this year, or he may have brought me sticks and coals."

The covers came whipping down and Em squealed and giggled. "Papa good."

"And what about you, Em. Have you been good, or did Father Christmas bring you sticks and coals?"

"Em very good," she giggled then suddenly got a very serious look on her face, glancing back and forth between them. "Yes?"

Charlie smiled at the child. "Em is very, very good." He reached down and caressed the top of her head. "Papa thinks you have been very good indeed."

"But Papa may just get coal for teasing you, Em. What do you think of that? Does Papa get coal?"

"No, Mamma ‘‘Becca. Papa good. Papa get kisses." The child held her face up to Charlie, all puckered to deliver one immediately.

Rebecca laughed as Charlie was graced with what could only be called a wet, sloppy baby kiss.

But that was not sufficient for the child. Papa deserved kisses from everybody, as far as she was concerned. "Mamma ‘‘Becca. Kiss Papa."

"Have you been a good boy, Charlie? Do you deserve a kiss from Mamma ‘‘Becca?" She gave him her best coy smile.

Charlie looked deep into Rebecca’s eyes. In an instant, the moment had shifted from lighthearted play to deep intimacy. "I think that is for you to say, my love."

Without a word, she leaned over and graced him with a kiss. Em was quite pleased to see Mamma ‘‘Becca and Papa sharing a kiss until she had been stuffed between them just a little too long for her comfort. She pushed on Charlie. "Papa kiss Em."

Charlie drew back from Rebecca’s lips and promptly kissed the little girl soundly on the forehead. His eyes never left Rebecca’s. As the kiss ended, he murmured "Merry Christmas, my beloved."

The kettle on the hob began to whistle. With a lingering smile and a soft caress that started with Rebecca’s cheek and passed over Em’s head, he turned and poured the water into the teapot.

Rebecca rose, carrying the child with her, and went to sit before the fire. She poured tea for the three of them, liberally dosing the child’s with honey and cream. Charlie splashed some of the water from the kettle into his washbowl and began lathering his shaving brush. Em watched, fascinated as Charlie spread the thick lather over his cheeks and chin.

Em squirmed out of Rebecca's lap and made her way across the room. Once next to Charlie she tugged on his robe. "Papa?"

"Yes, little one?" Charlie spoke a little absent-mindedly, as he stropped his razor.

This was not nearly good enough for the little girl and she only tugged harder on Charlie's robe. "Papa!"

Charlie stopped in mid-strop. "What do you want, Em?"

"Down, Papa."

Charlie crouched down until the two of them were face to face. "Yes?"

Em immediately put her hands in the thick foam covering his face. She then squealed with delight and clapped her hands together covering them both in the foamy white froth. Then she took what was left on her own hands and smeared it on her face. From her spot near the fire Rebecca roared with laughter.

Charlie, with soap in both eyes, groped for a towel, squinting at the howling Rebecca through the tears in his eyes. "Ahhhh," he sighed, "that stings." He turned to the child in front of him. "And you, little one. Shaving soap is for men, not little girls."

Not to be deterred, Em managed another handful of soap, which went promptly into her mouth. This only served to make her gag and then to cry as bubbles foamed out of her mouth.

Charlie’s head dropped onto his chest, smearing more shaving soap over his nightshirt. Since it was already covered in soapy foam, what did a little more matter? He took the towel that he had used to wipe his own eyes, wiped the foam from the child’s lips, and fumbled for the glass of water he kept on the bedside table. "Here, honey. Take some water in your mouth, swish it around, then spit it into the bowl." A few tries resulted in both of them being soaked, and a rather subdued little Em curled in Papa’s arms. "See, honey. I told you that shaving soap was not for little girls." Charlie looked at Rebecca, a plea for rescue in his eyes.

Rebecca put down her tea cup and crossed the room, relieving Charlie of a quietly whimpering Em, who now hiccupped a couple of times before wiping her runny nose all over Rebecca's night gown. After settling down next to the fire and cuddling the child, Rebecca looked up to Charlie. "How many children did we want again?"

Charlie grinned ruefully. "As many as you want, dear."

"Very tactful, General Redmond. Non-committal, but tactful."

"Well, dear. I think that we might start with whatever the good Lord gives us and go on from there. Speaking of which, do you think Lizbet is up and about yet? This little one needs to get dry and dressed, as I believe that Father Christmas may have paid us a little visit."

Rebecca stood up, careful not to jostle Em very much. "I'm sure she is. You finish getting dressed and I'll see to it."

Charlie rang for Lizbet, and then finished shaving and dressing, while Rebecca carried the child back to her room. When Rebecca returned, he was dressed, not in his uniform, but in his gray civilian suit.

"Why, Mr. Redmond. You are the most handsome thing I have ever seen." She walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Hmm and you smell good, too."

"All for you, my love. I thought I would attend church today as the newest member of the community, rather than as the local military government. I will let Sheridan take that role for a change. Now you, ma’am, need to get dressed or we will again have an impatient little one tugging at our knees –– and Heaven only knows what mess she will create this time."

"Yes, Mr. Redmond. Right way, sir." Rebecca teased as she drew open her wardrobe and removed a light blue dress that had been fashioned just for this occasion. "Will this do?"

Charlie looked tenderly at his lovely fiancéée, barely noticing the dress and entranced by the joyous smile on her face. "My dear, it will do very well. Shall I help you?"

Rebecca laughed and held her gentleman at arms length. "I am supposed to be getting dressed, Charlie. If you help me, we will miss Christmas morning and church. Then we will have both Em and Mrs. Williams calling for our heads."

"Oh, Lord. One of them I can handle; both of them would be far too much, even for me."

Charlie left the room as Lizbet entered to lace Rebecca into her dress. He collected a now dry and dressed Em and headed out of the door. "Well, little one, shall we go and admire Father Christmas’ handiwork?"

Charlie and Em met General Sheridan on the stairs. "Good morning, Sir."

"Good morning, Redmond. Merry Christmas. And Merry Christmas to you, Miss Emily." Sheridan had found out about the child’s relationship with Charlie from Polk. "I can smell the coffee from here, so I assume your Sarah has breakfast ready."

"Yes, Sir. She has become accustomed to my early hours. I think we may see more than just the usual early birds at the breakfast table this morning."

The three of them proceeded downstairs. As they passed by the tree, with the presents spread out beneath it, Em got upset.

"Papa! Pwesents!"

"Breakfast first, Em."

Em looked to her Papa, back to the tree and back to her Papa. "Pwease?" Sheridan muffled a snort behind the disguise of coughing as Charlie was confronted with the pouty lower lip.

Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package. "See this package? Father Christmas gave it to me, and told me that it was the first thing you should open, but that you had to have your breakfast first. Now, you know you have to do what Father Christmas asked."

Em sighed and laid her head on Charlie's shoulder. "Yes, Papa. Em good."

"Well done, Redmond. I have always found bribery to be very effective."

Charlie smiled. "I have always believed that reason and negotiation are far superior to force, Sir."

The three proceeded to the dining room, where, as had become their habit, Charlie settled into his chair with Em on his knee. Two dishes were set before him, one with his breakfast, the other with Em’s cereal. Sheridan eyed Charlie as he finished tying Em’s bib around her neck and silently handed him an extra napkin. . "You may find this useful. If I had known about this meal-time practice, I would have had a bib made for you, as well."

"Yes, well, my batman has been very…… tolerant of the situation."

Dr. Walker swept into the room, giving Em a peck on the head before taking her seat. "Good morning everyone." She glanced around the room. "Where is Rebecca this morning, Charlie? She is not ill is she?"

"Not at all. We had a little…… adventure this morning with Em that delayed her dressing. I expect her any moment."

"I will not even bother to ask." Elizabeth chuckled as she placed her napkin in her lap and poured a cup of coffee.

Em took the opportunity to take her spoon and dig it into her cereal bowl, gathering a large clump, which was immediately offered to Charlie. "Papa eat."

"That is Em’s. Papa will eat his own breakfast." Charlie took a forkful of eggs. "Ready?" The child nodded and together the two of them took their first bite of breakfast.

"Good morning everyone and Merry Christmas." Rebecca smiled broadly as she came into the room, first giving Em a kiss then placing a kiss on the top of Charlie's head before taking her seat at the opposite end of the table. "Where are Colonel Polk and Mr. Whitman this morning?"

"Right here, ma’am." The two gentlemen entered and both immediately went for the coffee pot. Evidently, there had been some private celebrating the night before.

Charlie looked to Sheridan with a grin and winked. "Say, Richard?"

Richard looked at Charlie with bleary and slightly bloodshot eyes. Cautiously, he responded. "Yes, Charlie?"

"I noticed that some of the men were a little ragged on the mounted lance exercises. They need a bit more instruction before we assemble the honor guard to escort the General to church. Do you think you can handle it? A brisk ride will do you good."

Richard simply looked at Charlie, his mouth hanging open a little as he cradled his coffee cup in both hands. "Um, Charlie, could you……" Richard simply could not go on; he needed his coffee.

"Could I what, Richard?"

Elizabeth did a fine job of hiding the grin on her face; then she cleared her throat and attempted to help her friend out of his mess. "Ah, Charlie, Richard is looking a tad under the weather to me and as your regimental physician, I must ask you to rethink that request."

"Bless you, woman," Richard whispered, but everyone at the table heard it and simply roared with laughter. Even Sheridan was enjoying the teasing this morning.

More people joined the breakfast table. Jeremiah was particularly excited, trying very hard to act like an adult and hoping so much that he had been given the fishing gear he wanted. Duncan had addicted him to that particular, manly sport.

Rebecca watched as everyone enjoyed his or her breakfast. As soon as she was finished, she retrieved Em from Charlie's lap so he could at least drink his coffee in peace.

"Mama?"

"Oh, your Mama is laying down, little one."

"Mama sick?"

Rebecca's heart went out to this child. She was old enough to know something was wrong, but not old enough to know how serious the situation was.

"Yes, sweetheart, I am afraid so. But we are doing everything we can to make your Mama better."

Em wrapped her arms around Rebecca's neck. "Em love Mamma ‘‘Becca."

"Mamma ‘‘Becca loves Em, too." She gave the baby a kiss and looked to the table, which had suddenly grown very quiet after watching the interaction between them. "Shall we adjourn to the tree and see what Father Christmas has left for us?"

Jeremiah leapt from his chair, almost overturning it. Fortunately, Whitman was right beside him and caught it before it crashed to the floor.

Whitman quickly excused himself and ran lightly up the steps. He tapped on Constance’s door. "My dear, I thought you might like to see your daughter have her first real Christmas. May I carry you down?

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Whitman. I do believe I feel strong enough to join the festivities, if only for a little while"

Whitman, who was a bear of a man, let the frail woman arrange her robe, then simply lifted her in his arms, carried her downstairs and settled her in a comfortable chair near the fire.

Laughing and chatting, the rest of the company rose from the table and proceeded to the main hall of the house. There, Lizbet, Reg, and Beulah had been busy, lighting all of the tiny candles carefully tied to the branches of the tree. It looked like a fairy tree, all sparkles and shining little lights. Jeremiah immediately plunged into the packages under the tree, sorting through the ribbon wrapped packages for one with his name on it. His mother reminded him of his manners.

"Jeremiah, as the youngest of us, other than little Em, could you do the honors and hand out the gifts?"

"Papa!" Em squealed and clapped her hands, reaching for Charlie as soon as he took his place between Rebecca and Constance.

Without breaking his conversation with Sheridan over the horse stock the cavalry was getting for the spring campaign, Charlie took the child into his arms and settled her on his lap.

While her Papa was preoccupied, Em took her chance and started rummaging through his pockets.

"Were you looking for this, little one?" Charlie pulled the small package out of his pocket.

"Pwease, Papa? Em good."

"Here you are, then." Em carefully opened the small package, a packet of horehound drops and benne seed candies the little girl loved.

She happily placed a piece of the candy in her mouth and then gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek. "Mmm, good."

Jeremiah handed out the gifts, chafing under the need to wait before he could open the good-sized box bearing his name that rattled when he shook it. All of the gifts were distributed. Charlie had his blue shirt that Rebecca had made, Em had a new hand carved rocking horse and a new doll, as well as a new dress, and all of the others in the circle of friends had at least one or two small presents in their hands. Jeremiah was engrossed in examining all of the little bits and pieces of fishing tackle the rattling box contained. Charlie, checking his watch, told Rebecca her gift would be delivered at precisely nine o’clock. Em looked around and noticed that only one person had no gifts; General Sheridan was sitting with empty hands.

"Papa? Down pwease."

Charlie set the small child on the floor and made sure she was steady on her feet. He watched her, curious as to what had put that determined look on her face.

Em walked slowly over to Lizbet and retrieved her doll, Em, from the woman who looked after her for so much of the time. Slowly and carefully she walked to General Sheridan and stood between his legs. She offered him her favorite doll. "Chwistmas."

The normally stoic General looked into the earnest face of the little girl in front of him. After four years of being at war with the people she represented, that one touch of genuine, childish generosity touched him deeply. He realized he could not refuse her gift, nor could he take her doll.

Very gently, he took the doll into his hand. She was worn, well loved, threadbare, and clearly this child’s most cherished possession. Very seriously, he looked at Em. "Miss Emily, Em is a very special gift. I thank you very much. But I have to ask a favor of you. You know I am a soldier?"

She looked back to her Papa who encouraged her with a nod, and then she looked back to the man before her and gave him a nod as well. "Like Papa."

"Yes, like your Papa. Well, soldiers have to live in some strange places. Sometimes those places are not very good for special gifts like Em. So would you keep her safe for me?"

Em smiled and decided that Phil Sheridan's lap was a nice place to be. She proceeded to climb up. Once she was settled, she took Em back and gave the doll a hug, before giving the General a hug of his own.

Charlie smiled at his little girl and then checked his watch. It was a quarter to nine. His gift to Rebecca was due in fifteen minutes and then they would all have to leave for church. "Folks, I hate to end the festivities, but we need to leave for church in a few minutes, so if you have anything you need to do, gather your wraps, and put your gifts away; we should be getting along."

Lizbet took Em from Sheridan and hustled her upstairs to get her bundled up for the ride to church. Rebecca watched as everyone moved around getting things settled. She looked at the tree then to Charlie who was looking out the window. "Charlie? What has you so preoccupied this morning?"

"Oh, my dear. I have to confess, I am a little nervous. I hope you like your Christmas gift."

"My gift? Oh Charlie, you have already given me so much. You should not have..." She just shook her head. "I think you're going to spoil me, Charles Redmond."

"That, my love, is the plan." Charlie looked out the front window again. MacFarlane was coming up the path, leading Shannon, who was beautifully groomed, with braided mane and tail. She was proudly pulling a lovely little basket carriage that was trimmed with red ribbons and greenery. Charlie smiled and turned to Rebecca. He caught her cloak up in his hands and held it for her. "Your gift has arrived, my dear. Will you join me?" Throwing his great coat around his shoulders, he escorted her out the front door. "My dear, your horse and carriage."

Rebecca could not help but laugh as she placed her hands in Charlie's pocket to keep them warm. "She is beautiful, Charlie. Perfect for a trip to church this morning."

"Rebecca, dear, I am not sure you understand. She is yours. Your horse. Your carriage. Merry Christmas."

"Oh, Charlie, I...I cannot take Shannon from you. She is a wonderful horse indeed, but she is yours, darling. I..."

"Shush, dear. Shannon loves you. You love her. I have Jack. She is yours. And, darling, in about a month, I will stand before God and man and declare that I endow you with all my worldly goods anyway. So please accept her as an advance deposit on that pledge."

Rebecca chuckled and kissed Charlie on the cheek before leaving his side to go and pay special attention to her new horse.

Charlie stood and watched the two of them together. It was perfect. It was one more piece in the life he was determined to build with Rebecca.

--*--

Tarent and McFarlane drew up in two large wagons, set with hay bales covered in blankets. As they arrived, the various members of the expanded Redmond Stables household emerged from their rooms, pulling on wraps and coats, the ladies checking their reticules to make sure they had a little something for the offering plate, the gentlemen settling wraps more securely around their ladies’ shoulders. The officers’ had their mounts brought around as well. With a lot of laughter and some jostling, the ladies and children mounted the wagons, the gentlemen heaved themselves into their saddles, and Charlie handed Rebecca into her own little carriage. They set off for church, singing Christmas carols as they went.

As they pulled into the yard behind the small red church, Mrs. Williams was progressing regally across the walk to the side entrance of the church, preparing to take her place at the small organ. She wore the purple robes that were reserved for the Christmas season. The sight of 'her' churchyard full of Yankee officers in full dress uniform was almost more than she could bear. Her nose wrinkled in disdain and assumed a higher elevation.

Charlie handed Rebecca down from the carriage, while the other officers gallantly assisted the other ladies. They sorted themselves out into formal couples and proceeded to march into the church, looking very like a formal processional at a military wedding. The somber blues of the officers tunics contrasted nicely with the more delicate colors of the ladies’ full skirts.

Mrs. Williams’ irritation could be heard in the vehemence of her playing. Reverend Williams stood at the door, as was his habit, and greeted each worshipper as they entered the church.

The entire entourage spoke politely to the Reverend before filing in and taking various seats. Rebecca sat down, settling Em next to her and supplying the child with a cracker or two that would keep her occupied for a few minutes. Rebecca and Mrs. Williams made eye contact. Rebecca refused to divert her eyes first. She was growing more and more irritated with Mrs. Williams and she knew that now was the time to start standing her ground. Charlie would be returning here after the war and Rebecca was going to make sure no one had the gall to say anything against him. Mrs. Williams finally looked away, mumbling something under her breath as she did. Rebecca just smiled.

Charlie leaned over and whispered to Rebecca. "Did something just happen between you and Mrs. Williams? I felt a chill fall over the church for a moment and the look on your face was –– fascinating."

"Just defending my territory, darling."

"Do I want to know which particular piece of your territory you were defending?"

"All of it, love. I am just letting her know that enough is enough. I was embarrassed to death by her outburst last night."

"Her outburst was bad enough, but to be honest, I was more concerned about the effect of the stress on Miss Constance. She looked so pale and distressed last night. I am glad she decided to stay abed this morning. It is a shame Beulah is missing the service, but I do appreciate it that she seems devoted to Miss Constance’s care."

"Beulah and Constance have become fast friends. I am a little concerned how Beulah will react should something happen to Constance. But we are preparing for the worst. Elizabeth is very concerned about her ability to survive this birth."

"Ah, the Reverend is about ready to start. We must continue this conversation later, dear. I, too, am concerned about Miss Constance’s health. But you know I have to balance that against the welfare of my men. We will have to work something out."

Rebecca nodded then resettled Em in her lap. She kissed the child on her head as Em settled into her arms for the nap that would shortly overtake her while the good Reverend delivered his sermon to the more alert members of his congregation.

The Reverend’s normally quiet voice rang out over the congregation. "Unto you this day is born a savior."

--*--

The church had been packed. Filing out of the church took time, as each person had to stop and say something to Reverend Williams. In the churchyard, the local folks gathered in a cluster, looking askance at the Union officers. Here were the demons that had made their life hell back once more. But for the first time, they were in their church, contributing to the collection plate. Moreover, yesterday, many of the men from the winter camp had visited the townsfolk with various offerings, including straw dolls and small hand-carved wooden toys for the children, loads of wood ready for the fireplace or stove, and ham, cookies, breads and other traditional Christmas treats to enhance their tables today. It was very confusing.

Sheridan looked over the crowd and made a decision. Charlie had been pushing him for supplies to help these folks. Hell, it was only a hundred and fifty people in total. And it was Christmas. He stepped into the open space between the cluster of folks from Redmond Stables and the winter camp and the local residents.

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. May I have a moment of your time?"

The local residents looked at each other and then, by mutual unspoken consent decided not only would it be bad manners, but probably suicidal to ignore the General, especially with so many of his men looking on. Slowly they all turned, giving him their attention, albeit a tad divided as they waited to see what his officers were doing.

"I know that General Redmond has been providing as much assistance as possible to you and I would like to reaffirm his commitment. In addition, I will be putting together a load of basic supplies to be used to help get you back on your feet. I know about the need for foodstuffs, seed stocks, woolens, and such. However, if you would prepare your lists of the things you need, such as specific tools, I would be happy to include them in the shipment. I will be in the area for another two days, so if you will deliver your lists to Colonel McCauley here, we will attend to it for you. We do want to find ways to rebuild our community once this war is over, and I hope that we have the opportunity to make a start with Culpeper." For Sheridan, that was a very long speech. He waited for reaction from the townspeople.

They talked among themselves for a few minutes, deciding that the man was indeed sincere. Several of the oldest men took the time to approach the General to shake his hand and offer their thanks.

As the men began hesitantly talking about tools, different crop options and similar issues, Mrs. Cooper slid up beside Rebecca. "I wish you a very Merry Christmas, my dear. But where is Miss Constance? I was sure she would want to be here with her daughter."

"I am afraid Constance is not at all well. Her condition is not good and Dr. Walker has ordered her to bed for the rest of her pregnancy."

"Oh, dear. I am so sorry. Does that mean you will be caring for the little one?" Em had awakened and was sleepily lying on Rebecca’s shoulder, quietly sucking on her thumb.

"Charlie and I have discussed what would become of Em in the event of her mother's passing and we will be keeping her with us if Constance has no objections. Em loves Charlie so, it would be a shame to separate them."

"I would say the little one loves you as well, my dear. I always thought you would make a wonderful mother." Mrs. Cooper looked over at Charlie, who was talking with several of the older farmers in the congregation. "On a somewhat different subject, have you talked to Charlie about your previous marriage?"

Rebecca glanced to Charlie and smiled then returned her attention to Mrs. Cooper. "He knows that my previous marriage was not happy. But I have not told him of all of Mr. Gaines’ faults. It is, after all, not Christian to speak unkindly of the dead."

"And what of his behavior toward you, my dear? Does he have any of the more…… unpleasant attitudes Mr. Gaines had?"

Rebecca blushed and shook her head. "No, not at all. Charlie is kind and loving and I do not believe he has ever even raised his voice to me in anger."

"Well, that is well and good, but I do believe I will stand in the place of your dear mother and have a little chat with him." Mrs. Cooper looked at the newly minted General, who was currently chatting with her husband and looking rather embarrassed. Mrs. Cooper’s eyebrow rose a bit. I wonder what that is all about. I must remember to ask Mr. Cooper about it later.

--*--

Mr. Cooper was, in fact, dealing with an uncomfortable Charlie. The question had been rather simple. Charlie wanted to know who had purchased Rebecca’s mother’s piano. If at all possible, he wanted to offer the owner a reasonable sum to regain the item so he could present it to Rebecca as a wedding present. However, there was a slight problem with the plan. Mrs. Williams had purchased the item in question and getting her to give it up would be awkward at best.

"Please, Mr. Cooper. Perhaps you could act as an intermediary for me? I would, of course, be willing both to replace her piano with a newer one and offer her some cash in consideration for her kindness."

"General, would it not be easier to buy Rebecca a new piano?"

"Of course, it would. But it would not have the same meaning for her as getting her mother’s piano. I have learned that emotional attachment has more value for Miss Rebecca than monetary worth. Believe me, I would be much happier buying her a new one, but..." Charlie had a rather helpless look that told Cooper just how totally Rebecca had this man wrapped around her finger.

"Well, I suppose I could speak with Reverend Williams. Maybe he could convince his wife to give up the piano." The man scratched his jaw and smiled. "I really do not have any desire to deal with Mrs. Williams either."

"Well, after last night’s demonstration, I suspect she would be very amused at the prospect of having me at her mercy."

"That woman does seem to get pleasure from the most unusual things, I will grant you that. Tell you what I will do. I will suggest that I can get a new piano for them if they would like to use the old one in trade. As far as I am concerned no one need be the wiser."

"I would be very grateful for your assistance, sir. I do want Miss Rebecca to have what she needs to be happy. And, sir, I am very committed to coming back to this community and helping to rebuild after the war."

"And we are looking forward to it, General. It will be nice to have a happy young couple in our midst to remind us what is important. I am sure you and Rebecca will have a household full of children once you get back."

Charlie flushed. Any reference to him fathering children with Rebecca put him in an awkward position. Thankfully, Mr. Cooper probably thought it was just a response to the implication of conjugal relations between them. Then a thought struck him. "By the way, sir, do you know why Mr. Gaines left no heirs?"

"I do not know for sure. It is rumored, I am afraid from Gaines own lips, that Rebecca was unable to give him children. I suspect it was his own drinking that made it impossible. There was not a day I knew him when that man drew a sober breath."

"Well, sir, even if Miss Rebecca cannot have children, I am sure we will end up with a house full. She opens our doors to every orphan who comes this way already."

Cooper chuckled, glancing at the woman in question, who at this very moment was attending to a grumpy Emily. "I do believe you are right. I suppose it does not matter how a family comes together, just as long as it does."

"Amen, Mr. Cooper. Amen."

--*--

The rest of Christmas Day had been relaxing and uneventful. After dinner, small groups had wandered to various parts of the house. Some were in the dining room, enjoying a quiet talk over coffee and brandy. Others were in the front parlor, playing charades. Jeremiah had wandered off to the encampment to go over the contents of his tackle box with Duncan. Em had been put to bed, after wishing her mother a quiet good night. Charlie planned to retreat to the sitting room upstairs with Rebecca, but before he could retire for the night, he needed to talk with Elizabeth about Montgomery’s condition and to determine if Sheridan’s plan to hold the court martial the next day was viable. He found the doctor in the back parlor, quietly playing chess with Polk.

"Um, excuse me, Elizabeth, Richard. I need a word with you, Elizabeth, if you have a moment."

Richard rose to excuse himself. "No, Richard, stay. You know what this is about already."

"I assume it is time to deal with the issue of Montgomery." Elizabeth settled back in her chair and laced her fingers together.

"You are correct, and I am curious as to how you figured it out?" Charlie sat down on the settee and waited.

She sighed, "Well I knew it was bound to come up and that my opinion would be key to the whole affair."

"General Sheridan wants to hold a court martial while we have sufficient line officers here so that none of our staff will have to sit on the panel. In addition, since all of the witnesses are here, it is more appropriate than trying to convene at his headquarters later. He wants to know if Montgomery is sufficiently recovered to withstand the process. I suspect he will ask you if he is mentally able to undergo a trial as well."

"His physical condition has improved a great deal. However, his mental condition has not. He is angry and resentful."

Charlie smiled ruefully. "Well, I suppose that is an improvement over being angry, resentful, and suicidal."

"I am afraid he has decided that he will be hanged, so he does not have to give it any further thought. He is positive that you have some sort of personal vendetta against him."

"Well, to be honest with you, my friend, I would rather see him sent home on a medical release with a recommendation that he get proper care for both his body and his mind. But I am afraid if he does go home, he may continue to vent his anger on people, and especially on women."

Charlie stared bleakly into the fire. "Well, the decision is out of my hands. General Sheridan will chair the panel. You know, they will ask you for your recommendation as to the disposition of his case."

"Yes, I know. I am prepared to offer him my honest opinion as a physician, Charlie, that is all I can do."

"What is your opinion, Elizabeth?"

"Physically he is capable of standing trial. Mentally he is competent to stand trial. He understands what is going to happen. I cannot say I am happy about sending a man I worked so hard to save to the gallows, but he did bring this on himself and there is only so much I can do. I am a doctor, not a miracle worker."

Richard stood and moved to stand behind Elizabeth, gently patting her shoulder and offering what support he could.

"No, and I do not ask you to be one. I am just sorry we are in this situation in the first place." Charlie rose quietly. "I will leave you two to your game. Good night to you both."

He climbed the stairs to Rebecca’s sitting room slowly, thinking of the strains that the next two days would present. As he came into the room, Rebecca was sitting before the fire, absentmindedly brushing her hair. "Good evening, Miss Rebecca. You look lovely."

Rebecca turned and smiled at him; her smile quickly faded to a look of concern. "And you my darling, look exhausted. Come in and sit by the fire. I will get you a brandy."

Charlie slumped into the settee in front of the fire and merely nodded his thanks as she put a glass in his hand. He stared moodily into the fire.

"It is the situation with Montgomery that has you bothered." It was not a question; it was a statement. She settled down next to him, placing her hand gently on his leg.

"Yes, well, it is always hard to have a man under your command who has turned. Even though I was not in charge at the Wilderness, Wilson was, it is still hard. I am truly grateful I will not have to sit on the panel."

"Charlie, this is for the best. I am sorry this has happened to a man who, by all accounts, was a good officer, but I also get the feeling from things he has said that he is, and always has been, abusive. He needs to be stopped. Look at what he and his kind have done to Constance."

"How different is he from Mr. Gaines, dear?"

Rebecca looked away, staring into the fire. "In some ways, he is. Maybe that is why I feel no sympathy for him. But Mr. Gaines was acting within his rights as a husband, and Major Montgomery is clearly was not."

Charlie looked at Rebecca for a long moment then wrapped his arms around her. "I think I am beginning to understand. Perhaps it was just a matter of time before Montgomery’s character became obvious to all of us, regardless of what happened to him."

"I believe that is probably true." She reclined into Charlie's arms, resting her head on his shoulder and gently running her hand over his suit, playing with the buttons. "Em is going to miss you and your buttons."

Charlie stroked Rebecca’s back, just enjoying the sensation of holding the small woman for a moment. Finally, he asked, "And you, Ma’am. What will you miss?"

"My heart, for you are going to take it with you."

Charlie's breath caught in his chest. The intensity of the statement brought home to him, in a way that had never really penetrated before, just how totally his life and his future had changed. He held her closer. "I promise to return it to you in one piece, if it is at all possible."

"I expect you to return home to me, Charlie. As long as you are alive that is all that matters to me."

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, thinking over all the places he had been where coming back alive had been questionable. There was a reason why he was called ‘‘Lucky Charlie.’ Well, from now on, he was going to be ‘‘Careful Charlie.’ "Darling, I will come back. This is home. You are my home."

"Will I be able to write you? Will you get the letters?"

"Yes, dear. There will be dispatch riders going up and down the rail line. I will make sure we have a mail stop here. I can make Culpeper a changing station and leave a small force here. I will write you as well, love."

"I would prefer you concentrate on coming home." She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He nuzzled into her hair and murmured into her ear. "Letters from you will be an inspiration to end the war and come home as quickly as I can, love."

"Then I shall write everyday. I am sure Em will enjoy writing her Papa as well."

"And I will read the letters every night and keep them under my pillow to be as close to you as I can."

She sighed, wishing there was some way the war would end before Charlie was due to leave, but she knew that was not very likely.

"Rebecca, dear, I do think it will be fairly quick. Lee is besieged; he cannot hold out for too much longer. As it stands now, there is really only one path that has remained open for his supplies, and I am sure we will look to cut that off. You know they say an army moves on its stomach. If we cut the supply lines, they will have to surrender, and then we can start on the work of rebuilding from this horror."

She nodded but remained silent. The realization that her Charlie was going away and might not come back was truly beginning to settle and weigh on her much like her brother's departure had. She prayed she would not receive that same word again. "Whatever happens, Charlie, just remember, I love you."

"You have managed to put much of the war out of your mind for a while, have you not, dear? So having the General and his staff here for Christmas rather brought that reality back home for you?" He could feel her nodding against his chest. "My love, I promise, I will be as careful as a man can be. I want to come home, to you, to your arms, to your love. I want to spend the rest of what I hope is a rather long life here with you."

Chapter 22

Monday, December 26, 1864

The weather was gray and the sky lowering. It was a perfect day for the trial. Charlie rose early as was his habit, but did not go for his normal morning run. Instead, he took his time, carefully attending to his morning ritual. It would not do for the General to look anything less than perfect in his first formal military appearance. Rebecca and Jocko had carefully changed the insignia on all of his uniforms to reflect his new status. He wanted to do justice to the position he now held, as well as their loving efforts.

It was not a day he was looking forward to. Elizabeth had declared Montgomery competent to withstand the trail. Sheridan, in his usual way, was committed to moving forward without regard to others’ sensibilities. The day after Christmas was back to business as usual. And the most pressing bit of business for Sheridan was Montgomery’s court martial. Once handled, Sheridan could get back to his own command.

As Charlie settled his coat and gave his cravat a final twitch, Rebecca emerged from the bedroom, fussing over which dress to wear. While she had not said anything, it was obvious she was as nervous as a cat before a thunderstorm about testifying.

"Charlie, which do you prefer?" She offered two dresses for his inspection. One a medium blue and the other a dove gray.

"The dove gray, I think, dear. It speaks to your status as a widow, and, whether you like it or not, that does have an impact. Somehow, people find widows to be more believable."

"Oh, that is a lovely thought. Thank you, General." She placed the dress on the bed, then removed her robe with a long sigh. "I hate this, Charlie."

He stepped behind her and gently embraced her, "I know you do. So do I, and for many of the same reasons. But look at what he did to Constance, and what he will probably do to others if he is allowed to go free. The alternatives are unacceptable, dear."

"Yes. I know. I will just be relieved when it is over and we can put it all behind us. Not just for ourselves, but for Constance especially."

"Do you think Constance will be in any condition to testify?"

"I do not think that would be wise, Charlie. She is so weak. We are already afraid of losing not only her, but possibly the child as well. I believe the strain would be too much."

"Well, we will have to ask Elizabeth. In this case, I believe the court would accept Elizabeth’s testimony as to what Constance said. The rules of evidence for a military trial are different from those of a civilian trial. Alternatively, the panel may choose to go to her. I trust General Sheridan to be gentle."

"If that is the case, I would like to be with her, if General Sheridan will permit."

"And if Elizabeth will permit. She is as protective of Constance as a cat with new kittens."

"She is a good doctor and a wonderful friend. She knows Constance probably will not survive the birth and she is doing everything she can to help her in the here and now."

Charlie, who had been buttoning up the back of Rebecca’s dress while they spoke, stopped cold. "She is really not going to survive? Should I try and leave Elizabeth with you and her when we are ordered back to the field? And what about Em?" Although they had discussed it before, and even committed to caring for Em if need be, Charlie had never really accepted the possibility that Constance would not survive.

Rebecca turned slowly and looked at him. "No, Charlie, it has been become more apparent everyday she will not come through this birth. Constance and I have discussed what will become of Emily and the baby. As I have said before, she wants us to raise them. As our own."

Charlie looked deep into Rebecca’s eyes, a bittersweet smile lighting his normally somber features. "Then, my dear, we shall raise them with all the love their mother would have given them herself."

"Of course we will. So think of this when you are away from home. Not only will there be a woman who loves you desperately but also a daughter and possibly a son." She smiled and caressed his cheek. "Of course, it could be another daughter."

"Oh, my God, a house full of women. What will I do with myself?"

Rebecca laughed, and then hugged him. "Come home and love us."

--*--

Charlie had asked Beulah and Reg to clear the ballroom and set it up for the trial. There was a long table set before the fireplace at the end of the hall for the panel of judges. Two more tables were set facing them, with about ten feet of open space between them. A single chair was set to one side at a ninety degree angle to both tables, facing inward. Across from that, a small writing desk had been placed for the court clerk, closing the square. Behind the tables for the defense and prosecution, were several chairs for observers. The room was largely empty, giving the entire setting a stark and somber quality, which was further emphasized by the watery winter light.

Whitman and Samuelson carried Montgomery into the room in an armchair and settled him behind the defense table. Colonel McCauley leaned over to speak to him. Montgomery very pointedly turned his head away, showing obvious indifference to McCauley and complete disdain for the proceedings.

Colonel Howard stood at the prosecution table, nervously flipping through his notes. Elizabeth and Rebecca sat together at the back of the room, while Charlie stood nearby talking quietly with several officers and enlisted men.

The side door opened and Sheridan, followed by Brigadier General Merritt and Colonel James, filed in. The officers and men in the room came to attention –– all but Montgomery, who did not even bother to look at the officers who would decide his fate.

Sheridan, Merritt, and James took their places at the judges’ table, and seated themselves. In a sonorous voice, the clerk announced, "Be seated. This court martial is convened to examine allegations that Major Harrison Montgomery, Commander, Company D, 13th Pennsylvania Cavalry, of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, did, on or about the 8th of July, 1864, aide, abet, encourage, permit, and observe without intervention, while several of his men did, brutally rape one Constance Adams, an innocent non-combatant and resident of the Commonwealth of Virginia. That he did himself participate in that heinous act, committing sodomy. That further, Major Montgomery did on more than one occasion, and acting either without orders or in direct contravention of orders, lead punitive raids against civilian non-combatants, abusing said civilians and removing supplies and other material goods without compensation."

Silence reigned in the room, then Sheridan asked Montgomery, "How say you to these charges?"

A longer silence settled as Montgomery refused to respond. Finally, McCauley spoke, "My client pleads not guilty, Sir."

Sheridan nodded to Colonel Howard. "Then, gentlemen, shall we begin? Colonel Howard, present your case."

Howard cleared his throat and spoke in a rather strained voice. What he had to do was distasteful in the extreme. He was about to ask a group of women to discuss revolting behavior by an officer of the U.S. Army. Just thinking about rape offended this devout Presbyterian; to have to prosecute it was disgusting.

"Sir, I call Dr. Elizabeth Walker."

Elizabeth rose and walked sedately to the witness chair. The clerk bustled over with a Bible in hand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"Insofar as my Hippocratic oath and the sacred privilege between physician and patient allow, I do."

Howard stepped forward and began his questioning. "Dr. Walker, you treated Major Montgomery for head injuries. Would you describe, briefly, the nature of the injuries and any impact those injuries may have had on his ability to understand the process of this trial and to contribute to his own defense?"

"Major Montgomery received a trauma to the head as a result of being kicked by a horse. Upon my arrival, I performed a surgical procedure to repair the splintered skull and relieve the pressure to the brain. Over the course of the last few weeks, there has been marked improvement in the physical aspects of the Major's condition."

"Dr. Walker, during this time, you have spoken with your patient regularly. Have you found him to be lucid, aware, and logically normal in his communications?"

"I have tended to him everyday. I have found marked improvement. He is aware. I expect a full recovery of the physical body."

"Dr. Walker, you have emphasized the issues of his physical health. Would you care to comment on your observations of his mental health, remembering the definition of ‘‘competent to stand trial’ is the ability to understand the law and to differentiate between right and wrong?"

"He is competent. He understands the difference between the two."

Howard drew a large sigh of relief as he checked his papers again and prepared the next round of questions for the Doctor. He really did not think a plea of insanity was reasonable for this situation, but feared Montgomery, when he realized a noose lay at the end of this process, would try and use it. "Dr. Walker, is it true Major Montgomery has made his point of view about Southern citizens clear and that he has publicly stated that all Southern citizens should be punished for the results of this war?"

Elizabeth looked to the back of the room where Rebecca sat. They locked eyes and Rebecca offered her friend as much silent courage as possible with a sincere smile. "He has made such comments."

"To your knowledge, has he made specific comments about events he and his men may have participated in that are contrary to the Military code of conduct toward civilian non-combatants?"

"Yes."

"Would you tell this court what specific statements you have heard Major Montgomery make that specified such actions?"

"I am sorry, Sir. To divulge these things would be in violation of doctor patient confidentiality."

Howard took that in stride, having expected her answer. "Then, Doctor, can you tell me if Major Montgomery ever mentioned Mrs. Constance Adams to you in any context other than the fact that she was assisting in providing him nursing care while he was recovering from his injuries?"

"No, I cannot."

Howard took a breath. "Then, Doctor, let us turn to another subject. Have you had one Mrs. Constance Adams under your medical care during the past weeks?"

"I have." Elizabeth sighed, and then took a drink from the glass of water that had been provided for her.

"Could you describe for us the condition or conditions for which you have been treating Mrs. Adams and the circumstances which led to her current condition?"

"Mrs. Adams is currently in the second stage of a very difficult pregnancy. I am sure you are versed in the circumstances that led to the condition."

"Since the charges here include rape and incitement to rape, can you tell the Court if there is any physical damage or additional stress to her condition that can be attributed to or is the direct result of the rape?

"As you are probably aware, sir, I was only able to start treating Mrs. Adams well after the point of conception. The physical trauma of such an occurrence would have been difficult to determine."

"Doctor, could you tell us what Mrs. Adams’ current condition is? For example, in your opinion, is she well enough to testify before this court?"

"In my professional opinion, she most certainly is not. Her condition is not good. She is weak, barely able to sit up for meals. Subjecting her to this could very well not only kill her, but also the child that she carries."

"Is that child the result of rape, Doctor?"

"Well, if you consider that her husband has been dead for a significant amount of time and that Immaculate Conception can, no doubt, be ruled out, I would have to believe that to be the most likely cause of her pregnancy."

General Sheridan interrupted. "Dr. Walker, if Mrs. Adams is not in any condition to come to this Court, would she be able to withstand some gentle questioning from the panel in her room?" He knew Elizabeth well; if she was getting acidic it meant that Howard was stepping very close to her personal sense of ethics and logic.

"Sir, it is my opinion that Mrs. Adams should not be brought into this matter at all. However, considering the nature and the gravity of the charges, if you really believe it is necessary, then you could question her for a few minutes. But I would request you allow Mrs. Gaines and I to be present as support for Mrs. Adams. She has come to rely on us and she trusts us."

"The panel will take your comments into consideration, Dr. Walker, and will only resort to interviewing Mrs. Adams if we feel it is absolutely necessary." He turned to the prosecuting officer. "Colonel Howard, do you have any further questions for Dr. Walker?"

"No, sir. Dr. Walker, thank you for your assistance."

Elizabeth waited quietly as McCauley whispered with his client and then looked frustrated when Montgomery refused to answer him. He then rose, and walked to stand in front of the waiting physician. "Good morning, Doctor. I would like to ask you some questions about Major Montgomery’s mental condition, if I may. Is it true you have placed a suicide watch on the Major?"

"Yes. General Redmond and I believed that would be the best course of action."

"What specific events, acts, words or attitudes did you observe that led you to take such stringent action?"

"Sir, specific information would be a violation of my oath. Suffice it to say, in my judgment as a physician, it was an appropriate preventative action."

"Would you say Major Montgomery was emotionally unstable? That perhaps he was showing signs of battlefield stress which led him to outbursts of anger either directed at himself or others?"

"Major Montgomery feels a great burden after so much time in the field. The Wilderness Campaign left him emotionally wounded."

"Would you say he may have been so emotionally burdened by guilt and anger after that campaign that his sense of right and wrong was abrogated?"

"No. He is aware of the difference between right and wrong. Good and evil."

"Would you say he understands that rape is wrong?"

Elizabeth sighed, feeling caught between a rock and a hard spot. "Sir, given Major Montgomery's attitude toward the fairer sex, I doubt he would believe it wrong under any condition."

Colonel McCauley cleared his throat, not having expected that response from the normally reserved Dr. Walker. It was definitely time to move on. "Thank you, Doctor, for your frank comments."

Elizabeth left the stand, walking regally back to her seat at the back of the room. Montgomery glanced at her as she passed, examining her as if she were a piece of carrion lying on the side of the road, his face twisted in a vicious glower.

Howard next called Trooper Abel Franklin, the man who had been on duty at Montgomery’s door the day he confessed to Rebecca. After being sworn in, Howard asked Franklin a series of very direct questions about why he was on guard outside the door and what he heard. Franklin answered very honestly and directly. He was on guard because Major Montgomery had at various times, threatened to kill Miss Rebecca, Miss Constance, General Redmond, or himself. The telling testimony came when Howard asked him what happened on the morning of December 18th.

"Mrs. Gaines was sitting with the Major that morning, sir. Major Montgomery became very abusive toward her. When I heard him raise his voice, I opened the door a crack to listen in and make sure she was not harmed."

"Trooper, when you opened the door, could you hear the two of them clearly?"

"Yes, sir."

"What did you hear?"

"Well, first I heard the Major basically call Mrs. Gaines a whore. I thought that was pretty out of line, since she said she was engaged to the Colonel, ‘‘scuze me, the General."

"Yes. Then what, Trooper?"

"He said a lot of pretty insulting things about the General. I thought Mrs. Gaines would get up and leave, or have a hissy on him, but she did not. She just kept listening. Finally, she snapped back at him."

"Snapped back at him?"

"Yes, sir. She told him she understood he was a man who enjoyed watching women being raped. Then the Major really blew up at her. I remember exactly what he said."

"And that was?"

"He said, ‘‘you cannot prove anything, you greedy little whore. It is my word as an officer and a gentleman against the word of that little lying, Bible quoting bitch’."

Howard’s Presbyterian soul was offended already, and he knew it was going to get worse. "Did he say anything else, Trooper?"

Franklin grew pale and entirely embarrassed. He stared at the floor and twisted his forage cap in his hands. "Yes, sir." In a strangled voice he went on. "He described what he wanted to do to Mrs. Gaines and told her she would like it just like Mrs. Adams had. He even told her that after three men had had their way with Mrs. Adams, he had committed sodomy on Mrs. Adams because the more natural way was too messy."

"What did Mrs. Gaines do then, Trooper?"

"I have to say, sir, Mrs. Gaines did better than I would have right then. I would have simply hit him. She got him to say he had participated in the rape of Constance Adams. He told her that no one would believe her over him. But by then, both the Colonel and I had heard him."

"The Colonel was there?"

"Yes, sir. The Colonel, um, General Redmond, you know? He had come up while they were talking, before Mrs. Gaines snapped at the Major. We both heard him."

"Thank you, Trooper. Your witness, Colonel McCauley."

McCauley looked at Montgomery for a moment, hoping for some thread to help him. Montgomery just smiled back at him, a smug, arrogant look.

McCauley turned away from Franklin and walked over to stand beside the clerk. He spoke in a reasonably low tone of voice, and further muffled his words by putting his hand over his mouth. "Trooper Franklin, is it possible you misheard any of the conversation?" The members of the panel strained to hear his words. McCauley was trying to demonstrate that Franklin was not able to clearly hear the conversation between Rebecca and Montgomery through a partially closed door.

Franklin answered promptly. "No, sir. I heard him quite clearly. They were not keeping their voices down and I have always had pretty good hearing. I used to be able to find the squirrels’ nests in my da’s pecan grove by listening for their chattering."

"Thank you, Trooper." McCauley’s shoulders slumped. Everything he could think of was failing.

Montgomery looked bored. McCauley was frustrated. He was honor bound to provide a reasonable defense, but without Montgomery’s cooperation and with the evidence against him building apace, he was unsure as to where to go next.

Howard called Charlie to the stand next. His testimony was almost exactly the same as Franklin’s. It was obvious it was difficult for Charlie to present his testimony calmly, since having heard his fiancéée called a whore and threatened with vicious rape was not an event that any gentleman could discuss calmly.

Finally, Howard called Rebecca.

"Mrs. Gaines, I know this must be very difficult for you. We shall make this as brief as possible. You have heard the testimony of Trooper Franklin and General Redmond. Do you have anything you would like to add?"

Rebecca twisted one of Charlie's handkerchiefs in her hands until she was sure she could feel the threads snapping. Finally she looked up at the man before her. "He knew what he was doing."

"Do you mean he knew he was confessing to a heinous crime?"

"Yes. He knew what he was saying. He was deliberately trying to offend and insult me, by telling me what happened that night."

"The night he and his colleagues raped Mrs. Adams?"

"Yes."

"How do you know this, Mrs. Gaines?"

"He said, ‘‘I dare you to attempt to prove any of it, slut. My word against yours, and my confession, as you call it, is pure hearsay that no court in the country would accept.’"

"Thank you, Mrs. Gaines. Your witness, Colonel McCauley."

McCauley knew when he was defeated. "No questions, thank you."

Sheridan looked at his fellow panel members. "We shall take a short break, then the counsels will have an opportunity to present their summations."

Howard stood. "Gentlemen of the panel, the prosecution waves any need for summation. I feel the testimony speaks for itself."

McCauley stood with him. "The defense, sirs, throws itself on the mercy of the Court. Major Montgomery experienced extreme stress and anguish as a result of the devastation of battles such as The Wilderness. That terrible experience has warped this man’s judgment and instilled an unreasoned anger and desire for revenge, a logical response to that terrible experience. It is unfortunate that his anger and pain have been so inappropriately expressed."

"Very well then. The court will adjourn until after lunch, at which time we will render our decision."

Charlie escorted Rebecca and Elizabeth out of the door. Polk was waiting in the hall for them to emerge, where he took Elizabeth’s arm. The two men escorted their respective ladies to the rear parlor, where a warm fire was burning and Beulah had tea and a light lunch already waiting for them.

Rebecca, still slightly shaken, allowed Charlie to help her to the davenport. She looked up at him, trying to hold back her tears. "Do you think they will want to talk with Constance?"

"No, dear. You and Franklin have done all that was needed about that. And Elizabeth made it clear he was not insane." Charlie gently put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "You did wonderfully well, my brave girl."

"It certainly did not feel like it. I could feel him looking at me. I could not even meet his eyes. He is truly an evil man."

"He is, dear. You and Elizabeth stood up to him gallantly."

Richard had been standing behind Elizabeth, gently sheltering her in his arms as she warmed herself before the fire.

Elizabeth looked back at her own gentleman and whispered, "Did I do the right thing Richard?"

He leaned over, holding her close and whispering in her ear. "Elizabeth, you did the only thing an honorable person could do. I, for one, am very proud of you for it."

"It is amazing how I know intellectually that it is the right thing, but still feel so horrible that it had to be done. I am a doctor; I am supposed to guard and preserve life, not make it possible to take it. Yet, I know a monster like that has to be stopped. He would only hurt other women."

"Think, Elizabeth. This is a man who enjoyed watching Constance being raped repeatedly, and then sodomized her. The man who will be responsible, by his acts, for taking Constance’s life and changing Em’s and the unborn baby’s lives forever. Those children will be deprived of their mother’s love because of Montgomery. How many other women and children suffer the same fate if he was allowed to go free?"

"I know. I know it had to be done. It is just that, for me personally, it was a very bitter pill."

"I know, my lovely doctor. But I will remind you of what happens in the field. You have to make hard decisions –– to treat those who have a chance of surviving and leave those who have none to their God. In this case, you have done the same thing –– you have made a choice to protect the lives of women and children you will probably never meet."

There was a rap on the door. Lizbet pushed it open, holding Em's hand as she toddled into the room and directly to Charlie. "Papa." She managed to start the climb on her own only to be assisted into Charlie's lap by Rebecca, who smiled and gave the girl a kiss.

Richard and Elizabeth turned at the sound of Em’s happy cry. Elizabeth watched the little girl as she clung to these two people who had come into her life when it looked so bleak and given her love. "Yes, Richard. You are exactly right. My first priority is to protect them as much as I can."

Lunch was a subdued affair, with Em dominating the conversation. Somehow even she managed to understand it was a serious day and kept her lunch mostly on her and her bib, rather than on Charlie’s coat.

After surrendering Em to Lizbet for her nap, the four of them returned to the ballroom to wait for the panel’s decision. Most of the officers managed to file in, and the troopers from Montgomery’s company stood around the windows listening as well.

Sheridan, Merritt and James filed into the room, settled themselves, and then waited for the room to settle down.

Sheridan, as president of the panel, spoke. "It is the finding of the court that Major Harrison Montgomery is guilty as charged of the capital crime of rape, by his own admission, as verified by an officer and an enlisted man in good standing in the U.S. Army, as well as by civilian witnesses. Before we pass sentence on you, Major Montgomery, do you have anything to say in your own defense?"

Montgomery looked up from the table. His eyes were filled with rage, hate, and anger. "In my defense? No. You would not listen to me. You have taken the word of the Southern sympathizer and his lackeys. You have heard the spewing of a whore who has lured him to her bed. Before you slip the noose around my neck, I will give you the names of the men who committed the crimes and I expect you to hang them for failure to follow the orders of a senior officer." He paused and looked directly at Rebecca. "I told them to kill her. I told them to make sure it would never come back to haunt them. I suggested they cut her throat and the throat of the squalling, snot nosed brat across the room, crying for her 'mama ‘." His gaze shifted to Charlie. "So if you are going to hang one true Union soldier, make sure you get us all."

Phil Sheridan’s face looked as though it was chiseled from stone. "Harrison Montgomery, for the crime of capital rape, it is the judgment of this court that you be hanged by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."

He stood and walked toward the back of the room, then turned to Samuelson. "Get that vermin out of Mrs. Gaines’ house. Schedule the hanging for tomorrow morning and see to it that if he wants a minister, he gets one." Without saying another word, Sheridan walked out of the house, and down to the pond, where he could be seen pacing and smoking cigar after cigar until the light of day faded away.

--*--

Tuesday, December 27, 1864

In the early morning the cold was biting, even though the air was still. After listening to their former commander’s diatribe, the men of Company D had volunteered to build the gallows upon which Montgomery’s life would end. By tacit agreement, they had elected to build it as far from the farm as possible, choosing a remote corner of the rail yard as their site. As the morning grew brighter, a small group of officers and troopers carried Montgomery to the scaffold. He had refused the ministrations of Reverend Williams, cursing that kind man as a "damned rebel" and daring the devil to do his worst.

Charlie and Richard joined Sheridan and his entourage to serve as formal witnesses to the hanging. Sheridan personally stripped Montgomery of his insignia of office before the man mounted the steps to the platform. With a little assistance, Montgomery found a final reserve of strength and defiance, and walked on his own to his end. He turned to the hangman and said, "I should forgive you, but somehow I just cannot. You are no better than any of the rest of them, seduced by that damn Southern sympathizer to be soft on these vermin. So do your worst, and I will see you all in hell."

The hangman placed the hood over Montgomery’s head, settled the rope around his neck, made sure to bind his legs tight, and on Sheridan’s signal, released the trap that dropped the man to his death. It was a clean death; his neck broke with the drop, his body twitched once and hung still. As the troopers of his own company cut him down, Sheridan and his escort turned and rode away.

Charlie turned to Richard as they watched the men settle the body into the waiting pine box. "God, what more will we have to pay before this war is over, my friend?"

"Charlie, it will end. And if we are lucky, we will find some kind of a life afterwards that will help erase this from our souls."

"Nothing will erase this from my soul, my friend. I just hope Rebecca and I can bring enough love into the world to balance it in the long run."

--*--

Charlie had spent the rest of the day processing all of the paperwork that resulted from General Sheridan's visit and thinking about the implications of that visit. It was time for him to start putting his life in order. Soon, he would no longer be sheltered in the Army.

Even sooner, he would face battle again and these inevitably final battles of the war would be bloody. The enemy was desperate and desperate men were dangerous men. He knew he would have to do something to protect Rebecca in the event the fates played the ultimate joke on him.

In other words, Charlie spent the afternoon brooding.

Rebecca watched him play with his dinner; he remained monosyllabic throughout the evening. Finally, she could not stand it any more.

"And what is bothering you that you sit like a statue and barely touch your supper? "

"Why do you say anything is bothering me, dear?"

"Because, you have not said more than two words in a row. You are keeping your eyes locked on your plate, and you are trying to hide your vegetables under your potatoes like young Jeremiah. "

"I am sorry, love. I just have a number of things on my mind this evening. Let us adjourn to the back parlor and talk a little, dear."

She smiled, as she sipped her coffee. "After you finish your dinner. "

"I swear, Rebecca, you are beginning to sound like my old Mammy." Charlie softened the statement with a teasing grin.

"It is just the mother in me coming out. With all these children under foot it was bound to happen. Now eat." She grinned and gave him a wink.

Charlie dutifully finished his meal in record time then rose from the table. "Mrs. Gaines, will you join me in the parlor?"

"Of course, General Redmond." She stood, taking his hand and allowing him to escort her from the table.

As they left the room, Charlie turned to Sarah, who had come to clear the table. "Could you bring some tea into the back parlor for us, Sarah?"

"Why, yes, General Charlie. Right away."

Charlie escorted Rebecca in and settled her in her favorite chair. He then knelt in front of the fireplace, tending the fire and adding more wood.

Rebecca watched him. She sighed, knowing she was going to have to give him a gentle nudge, and if that failed a swift kick. "Charlie?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, dear. I was just thinking." He fidgeted some more with the fire. "I need to go to Washington." The announcement was rather abrupt.

"Yes, I know. Why does this have you so concerned? It will only be a few days, correct?"

"Yes, I will hurry, but I need to go and see General Meigs and deliver General Sheridan’s message. I also need to see my attorney and my banker, and have you named my beneficiary for my pension."

Rebecca smiled and looked at her hands. "I wish...well...I understand why you are doing it Charlie. I just wish we did not have to think of these things."

Charlie came to Rebecca’s side and knelt down. He bowed his head and laid it in her lap. "I am afraid, dear. I am afraid the universe will play a huge, vicious joke on the two of us. I think, for the first time, I am afraid to die. And all of my errands in Washington are about taking care of you in case I do. Somehow, part of me thinks if I do everything I can to make sure you are taken care of if I do die, I can avert it somehow. And part of me is terrified because I need to do this to protect you."

"There is no joke waiting to be played, Charlie. Please, do not think like that. Just think of what you are doing as the things any husband would do to protect his wife and family. You will come home."

"My love, I would do anything to protect you and our home. I think that perhaps watching Montgomery’s end today may have put me in a morbid mood."

"I am sure it did. The house has been rather subdued today. But, you, my dear Charlie, are going to come home when this war is all over. We will breed the best horseflesh in the state and we will raise a herd of children. Little girls who will grow into fine women and boys who will be kind and gentle like their father."

Charlie raised his head from her lap and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure, Rebecca? Are you really sure you want me as your husband? Are you willing to spend your life with someone who is fundamentally a fraud –– a woman who passes as a man? Are you willing to raise a family that is not of your own body? Those are all prices you must pay to spend your life with me. Are you willing to withstand the scandal if I am discovered?"

She ran her fingers through his hair. "First, you are not a fraud. You are kind, loving, and caring. There is nothing fraudulent about that. I fell in love with you, none of that matters to me. It is your heart and spirit I adore. The body makes no difference to me."

She caressed his face. "As for the children, why do you think one needs to be born of my body for me to love it? I hope you can see I love Em as much as if she were born of me. That also does not matter."

She straightened and drew a deep breath. "And if you are discovered, well then we will still stand together, and, if it must happen, we will move away from here and start anew." She smiled. "I hear the West is a fascinating place."

Charlie could not help but chuckle at the tone of Rebecca’s voice. He looked at her and asked, "So you will marry me on the 28th?"

"Of course I will. You need not worry. I will be there."

"So have you started planning the wedding? Is there anything you want me to do or assist you in?" Charlie crossed his fingers –– all he really wanted to do was to buy the rings, show up in his dress uniform, and settle down to a quiet life with his wife. He suspected that was not all he would be required to do.

"Well, actually, Grace and I have put together a small," she held the thumb and finger apart just a bit, "list of items we will require to make me a suitably lovely bride for my dashing General. If you could pick these things up while you are in Washington, it would be wonderful."

"Of course, dear. I would be happy to run whatever errands you need me to."

She smiled. "Good." She was not sure, but she thought she might have seen a brief flash of panic in his eyes. "So, tell me, my love, who will be at the wedding?"

Charlie’s eyebrows rose. "Um, whoever you wish to invite. I suppose Richard and Elizabeth and Whitman and Samuelson, my senior officers and your friends from town?" Charlie’s voice rose to an unusual squeak. Guests were not on the list of things he was accustomed to defining.

"Charlie, this is our wedding. I want to make sure the people you care about are at the ceremony as well. What about friends in Washington? Surely there must be a few."

Charlie’s forehead crumpled in concentration. "Well, I suppose General Sheridan and perhaps McCauley might want to attend. Maybe General Grant as well; he probably would not attend, but would feel slighted if we did not invite him. I do have a friend there, but somehow I suspect you would prefer she not attend."

"Mrs. Armstrong?"

"Yes. But I can understand entirely if you would rather I did not invite her." Charlie was flushing an interesting shade of pink.

"Charlie, she is your friend. If you would like, please extend her an invitation. I am sure I would find her to be a delightful woman. Besides that, I do owe her a certain amount of thanks."

Charlie looked at Rebecca with some curiosity. "You owe her thanks?"

"Yes, if it were not for her tender caring for you, we might not have found ourselves at this place."

Charlie had the grace to blush even more deeply. "Well, a certain amount of respect is due to one’s teacher," he laughed. "And we have certainly both benefited and will benefit even more as we grow closer."

"I know." She licked her lips, trying not to sound like a jealous wife. "So, while you are in Washington will you 'call' on Mrs. Armstrong?"

"I believe I should. If nothing else, I think I owe her the respect of telling her about our marriage personally. Do you have a problem with that, dear? You know I am totally yours now. All that is, or will be, between Mrs. Armstrong and myself is friendship, rather like my friendship with Elizabeth." Charlie had a slightly uneasy feeling about Rebecca’s understanding of his friendship with Lizzie.

"No, of course not. You should see your friend. I was just curious."

"Rebecca? What are you thinking of, dear?" Charlie was rising rapidly growing uneasy.

"Oh, Charlie I am not thinking anything. I was just wondering if you would see her." She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe sow the last of your wild oats. Before your oats become mine."

Charlie looked at Rebecca. For a second, his expression was that of a cornered rabbit. Then all of the implications hit him fully in the funny bone. He started laughing, a big, full belly laugh. In fact, he laughed so hard he slipped from his kneeling position and abruptly sat on the floor. Between guffaws, he managed to gasp out, "My…… wild…… oats…… are…… already…… yours…… and…… yours…… alone. I…… am…… just…… waiting…… for…… your…… permission…… to …… sow…… them."

Rebecca smiled and joined Charlie on the floor, slowly pushing him back until, with some amount of difficulty and fussing with her dress, she managed to straddle his waist and pin his wrists to the floor as she leaned over him. She was about to tease him further when the door opened and Elizabeth and Richard came in.

Without missing a beat, Elizabeth commented. "I find them doing the strangest things."

Richard nodded. "Indeed."

Rebecca looked over. "Good evening, Charlie and I were just discussing planting methods."

Chapter 23

Saturday, December 31, 1864

Rebecca watched intently while Em toddled ahead of her as they made their way into the kitchen. She was pleased to see the child head directly to a small table and chair Duncan had fashioned for her. As soon as she was seated, Sarah gave her a cookie and a cup of fresh milk.

"Tank you, Sar." Em grinned so broadly that she showed two new molars that had almost completely come in.

"You are welcome, Miss Emily."

Rebecca could only smile at the child she was beginning to love as if she was her own. She had taken over as primary caretaker for her since Constance’s condition had continued to deteriorate with each passing day. She was exceptionally proud at how well mannered little Emily was becoming under her and Charlie’s gentle care.

"Good morning, everyone." Rebecca immediately checked the stove and the dishes being prepared for the open house that would take place the next day. Reaching for a spoon to taste one of the pots, she found her hand smacked by Sarah.

"Not yet, Miss Rebecca, ‘‘tis not ready." The cook smiled and just shook her head.

"Is everything going to be ready by tomorrow?"

Reg just shook his head at Rebecca’s nervousness as he continued to unpack a crate of dishes that General Charlie had ordered down from Washington. "Of course it will, Miss Rebecca. Beulah, Tess, and the others are working on the house and me and Sarah is getting everything else ready."

Rebecca smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen table. She sighed, knowing she was being nervous for nothing. "I am sorry, Reg. This is just that for the first time in many years that Redmond Stables has hosted a New Year’s party. I want everything to be perfect. We need some relief after the unpleasantness of Major Montgomery’s execution."

Sarah turned slowly and looked to Rebecca. "Miss Rebecca, they say there were some other men with him."

"Yes."

"And that General Redmond let them go from the Army."

"Yes, Sarah, but he did not know then what had happened."

"Yes, Ma’am, I know. But I am worried about them running around here. The folks over in colored town cain’t protect themselves."

"I know. General Redmond has men keeping an eye out for them, but he thinks they are long gone from here."

"I sure do hope so."

"We all do."

--*--

Sunday, January 1, 1865

The group that made its way to Church from Gaines Cove, or more appropriately Redmond Stables, that day was smaller than the previous Sunday. The visiting officers had left, and since Constance was having a very difficult day, both Elizabeth and Beulah had stayed behind to tend to her.

The congregation filed in quietly, but there was an underlying buzz of anticipation. Today was the first time since before the beginning of the war there had been celebrations planned for the New Year. How the Yankee General would handle Southern hospitality was a matter of intense curiosity and anticipation.

Mrs. Williams had chosen music that was vaguely patriotic in tone, perhaps to remind the residents they were still Southerners and they were still at war. The Reverend ignored it completely. He mounted the steps to the pulpit and began his sermon.

"Our lesson today is taken from Chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes, verses 1 through 8."

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."

"We have seen our time of death, our time of killing, our time when everything in our lives was broken down, and we were left with nothing but ashes. I do not believe there is a single person in this room who has not had their time of weeping and mourning."

"We have had our time of hating, our time of war."

"That time is coming to an end. We have had our enemies come among us and found them to be men of compassion, of honor, and kindness. It is true some of the enemies have not been able to let go of the past, to let go of the time for hate and war. For those poor souls, we offer our prayers and condolences."

"The year before us will be a time of great change. It is my prayer we find that it is a time to heal, a time to build up, a time to plant, a time to love, and a time of peace."

The sermon continued. Mrs. Williams sat at her keyboard with a look on her face that would make sour pickles seem sweet. One could only imagine the atmosphere in the Williams’ home, as the Reverend continued his message of peace and cooperation. Charlie speculated it probably made Vicksburg look pleasant.

--*--

Rebecca stood near the mantle in the large front parlor. She was gingerly holding a glass of wine in her hands and was on the verge of seething. Charlie was standing in the center of the room surrounded by all the available young ladies of Culpeper.

Elizabeth wandered over and tried to hide the smile on her face as she sipped her own wine. "You may rupture something very important."

Rebecca swung her eyes reluctantly from Charlie to her friend. "Excuse me?"

"If the green-eyed monster grips you any tighter, your eyes will pop out."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I am talking about the fact that your husband-to-be is standing there surrounded by all those young ladies of the community and you do not like it much."

Rebecca nodded, ashamed of her feelings. "Yes, you are right."

"Rebecca, my dear friend. You need not worry about Charlie. He adores you. When you are away from him, all he talks about is you. I do believe he will see to your sainthood himself."

Rebecca chuckled and blushed. "I know he loves me. It is just that they are so……so……"

"Utterly charmed by the newly minted General." She elbowed her friend. "Think how jealous they will be when you and Charlie are married. My dear, you will be the envy of them all."

Elizabeth watched as Rebecca tried to do the proper thing and not gloat. It was obvious that Rebecca found it very difficult.

"Oh, enjoy it, Rebecca. It does not make you a sinner to be happy with the way your life is turning out. Especially since it came so close to falling apart."

"I do not want to seem too prideful, but you have to admit that if I were prone to it, Charlie would be a good reason."

"He would be the best reason. I think the good Lord will forgive you for feeling pride in the one you love."

As the two women chatted, Charlie broke away from his group of admirers and went over to the buffet where Jocko was standing in service. The two men whispered together for a moment, and Jocko nodded, then quietly left the room.

Charlie moved slowly across the room, stopping several times to chat briefly with some of the gentlemen in attendance, both from town and from among his own command. He kept looking over his shoulder, as if he expected something to happen.

As he drew near to Rebecca and Elizabeth, Jocko returned and nodded to him.

An odd mixture of mischief and relief washed over Charlie's features as he turned to his bride-to-be. "I have a little surprise for you and the guests."

"A surprise? General, what are you..."

Charlie smiled. "A surprise. Tell me, Mrs. Gaines, do you dance?"

She smiled back. "Why yes, General, I do."

"Ah, then the boys and I have done well. It happens we have several excellent musicians in the regiment who have consented to play for the guests today. They are ready, so, as our hostess, would you care to open the doors to the ball room and begin the proceedings?"

She took Charlie’s arm. "We shall host the first dance of what I hope will be many dances at Redmond Stables," she paused and smiled, "together, my dear Charlie."

Charlie stepped to the buffet and picked up a glass and spoon, tapping the crystal to get peoples’ attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Gaines and the men of the 13th Pennsylvania have a treat for you." He nodded to Jocko, who threw open the doors to the ballroom. The room was decorated with evergreen and holly, and fires were burning brightly in the great fireplaces at either end. In the musicians’ alcove, a small band, mostly violins, was softly playing. "Let us dance in the New Year."

Rebecca stepped forward and claimed her General. "Your dances are mine, General."

"My dear, I will have to do my duty to the matrons, but for you, the first and last dance." He nodded to the musicians and the strains of one of Mr. Strauss's scandalous waltzes were heard. "Mrs. Gaines, will you do me the honor?"

"Oh, indeed I will, General Redmond."

Charlie extended his left hand to her, and then wrapped his right hand around her waist. Standing for a moment, he waited to catch the beat of the music then led her into the whirling pleasure of that most scandalous dance. "I love being able to hold you in public, my dear. And before this day is over those who do not already know will know why."

"Oh my dear, that sounds like you are planning something to set them on their ears." She glanced around the room to find all eyes were upon them. "Something other than this I assume?"

"I plan to announce to them that you have done me the honor of consenting to be my wife, love, and that the wedding is set for the 28th."

"Yes, my dear, please do. But make sure someone is standing behind Mrs. Williams."

"I assume Mr. Williams will attend to his wife." Charlie smiled an evil little smile.

Rebecca moved just a shade closer and whispered. "My darling Charlie. You may assume too much."

"Then, darling, let her fall. The only woman I wish to attend to is you."

"I am very glad to hear that." She smiled sweetly at Mrs. Williams as Charlie guided her to the music. "I think she is ready to faint now. There goes my reputation." She teased, her hand moving up and down Charlie's arm.

After the initial surprise, Polk led Elizabeth out onto the dance floor. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper soon followed, and then Charlie's officers played the gallant to several of the younger women. Soon the room was swirling with men in dark suits and lovely women in gentle colors.

"You throw a wonderful party, General. We will be the talk of the county."

"We throw a wonderful party, darling." Charlie was relishing the feel of holding the smaller woman in his arms in front of everyone.

Rebecca took notice of the look. "Charlie Redmond, you are gloating," she smiled.

"Yes, Rebecca Gaines. I am gloating. I am holding the most beautiful woman in the world in my arms, I am dancing with her, and I am going to announce to the world she has consented to be mine for the rest of our lives. Of course I am gloating."

"Well, good. Then I will not feel guilty for doing it over you earlier."

Charlie pulled back a bit so he could look into her eyes. "You were gloating?"

"Like the evil thing I am, yes I was."

"Well, darling, I wish I could give you more to gloat over." He smiled anyway. It was so wonderful to feel her possessive, proud love.

"Please Charlie. I am going to be married to the most charming, handsome person in the world. I have plenty to gloat over."

Charlie grinned as the waltz came to an end. He bowed to her, as was appropriate for a gentleman after such an intimate dance, and escorted her over to the Reverend Williams and his wife, whispering as they walked, "You know, dear, we must play the proper host and hostess. So dance the quadrille with the Reverend and I will see if I can further scandalize his wife."

"That will do it." She chuckled as she moved to the good Reverend. He smiled and escorted Rebecca back to the dance floor.

Mrs. Williams hesitated when Charlie offered her his hand. A quick glance told her everyone was watching and it would not do to snub him in front of nearly the entire town. "Thank you, General Redmond."

Charlie led her to the head of a group of younger dancers, primarily local girls dancing with Charlie's junior officers. "Gentleman, may we complete the square?" Shy nods and one 'yes, sir, please, sir' came back promptly. They squared up and the dance began with the obligatory bow and curtsey. "Thank you for joining me, Mrs. Williams."

"One must be polite, General."

"Indeed, ma'am. I have always found if one takes the time to come to know one's neighbors, frictions can often be reduced."

"General, right now I have no desire to know you. But if Rebecca intends to live this immoral life after the war, then I will probably get used to you."

The steps of the dance took them apart for a few moments. When they returned, Charlie dropped his bomb. "Madame, as you know, I intend to make an honest woman of Mrs. Gaines, and very soon. I would be deeply appreciative if you would assist in preparing for our wedding on the 28th."

The minister’s wife nearly stumbled when the words sank in. "The wedding? You have set a date?" She had not expected the Yankee to follow through on his promises to Rebecca. She had expected him to ride away to war in the spring and be gone for good. But with a firm date set, it seemed clear that the General would return to Culpeper. She was going to have to put up with this sorry excuse for a man for a long time. The thought repelled her.

"Of course, Mrs. Williams. Mrs. Gaines is a wonderful woman. Although a number of people already know of our plans, we will formally announce it tonight. I am, I do believe, the luckiest man on the face of the planet tonight." Charlie fairly beamed with pride and anticipation - the perfect image of the eager bridegroom.

She could only shake her head. For the first time in her opinionated, small-minded life, Mrs. Williams was speechless.

Gently, Charlie looked at the thunderstruck woman. "Mrs. Williams? Are you all right? Has the heat and exertion tired you?"

"I rather think I would like to sit down," she nodded.

Solicitously, Charlie escorted Mrs. Williams to one of the chairs at the side of the room, and signaled to one of the troopers who were serving the guests to bring some punch. "Ma'am, shall I call Dr. Walker?"

"No, General. I only need rest."

"Then, ma'am, at least let me keep you company until you are feeling more yourself."

Rebecca and Reverend Williams noticed the small disruption Mrs. Williams’ departure from the floor created. They quietly left the dance floor so the minister could attend his wife. Rebecca smiled as she watched the haughty woman squirm at Charlie’s proximity.

"Ah, Reverend Williams. I fear your wife has been overcome by the excitement of the afternoon. Mrs. Williams, I look forward to meeting with you to coordinate what I hope will be a small, but elegant affair."

Rebecca tugged on Charlie’s sleeve. "General, I believe this dance is mine."

The band had started up a sprightly reel. Charlie smiled at her and led her to the floor, after bowing politely to Mrs. Williams.

"You are going to rot in the pits of Hell for that, Charlie." She admonished playfully.

"No, dear, I am going to back our most vocal opponent in the community into a corner she simply will not be able to get out of."

"Oooh, what have you done?"

"I have asked her to assist in planning the wedding. As the minister's wife, she cannot back out of it, and as one of the sponsors of the wedding, she cannot continue to condemn me and retain her credibility."

"You expect me to work with that hateful woman to plan our wedding? Oh Charlie, I will go fight the war and you can stay here for that."

"Darling, I assure you, you will never have to face her without me being present."

"One word out of her, Charlie, and I will not guarantee what will happen."

"Beloved, trust me. I have just backed her so far into a corner that by the end of the evening, she will be too busy saying 'I knew it all the time' to be any trouble to us."

Rebecca laughed. "I am marrying a very wicked man."

"You are, indeed. I would say, my dear, you and I are well matched."

And so the afternoon wore on, with dancing interspersed with singing. It was close to suppertime when the band struck up the waltz again.

"My love, dance with me."

"Of course. Now and forever."

The two danced as if there were no others on the dance floor, lost in one another’s eyes, in the flow of the music and the sensual joy of the dance. Charlie maneuvered them so at the end of the dance, they were standing at the head of the room, before one of the great fireplaces.

After the music ended, the guests honored the band with a robust round of applause for their contribution to the day's festivities. Then Charlie's voice rang out over the assembled guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is suppertime, and we have prepared a buffet for you in the dining room. But before we adjourn, I have an announcement."

Rebecca smiled and looped her arms through Charlie’s.

The room stilled. Curiosity was a powerful motivation for focusing attention. Charlie signaled to the staff who were rapidly circulating glasses of white wine to all of the guests. Charlie waited patiently until each guest had a glass. The troopers also took glasses of wine for themselves, as Charlie had ordered.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I offer you a toast this evening." He turned to face Rebecca, his heart in his eyes, his voice ringing with the sureness of total conviction and devotion. "To our gracious hostess and, as some of you know, after the 28th of next month, my most beautiful and beloved wife, Rebecca."

There was an instant of hesitation, and then the room resounded with one word. "Rebecca."

She turned, a bright smile on her face, as she once again clung to Charlie’s arm and said, "Yes, General Redmond and I are going to be married."

Charlie took her hand and bowed deeply, drawing her fingers to his lips. He looked into her eyes and smiled, silently mouthing one word. "Mine."

Her quiet response was simply, "Yours."

Charlie turned back to the assembly of guests, most of whom were applauding politely, some of whom were grinning broadly and a few of whom were looking rather pole axed. "Ladies and gentlemen, let us adjourn to supper. And for this one night, forgive me my manners, but I would like to escort my bride-to-be."

Rebecca walked slowly next to Charlie as they made their way through the crowd toward the dining room. As they approached the door, Jocko’s eyes met Rebecca’s. He gave her a little wink.

--*--

Monday, January 2, 1865

Rebecca sat in her parlor, making one list from the several that had been made by the ladies who were helping her with the wedding. She was pleased to see they were willing and even excited about helping her. Most of them had gotten over their initial shock of seeing her with Charlie and were beginning to see them for what they truly were; a couple in love. The differences between North and South were becoming very blurred for these ladies.

She looked out of the window from her place at her desk; she could see Charlie with a couple of his troopers. They were working with one of the horses that had received a nasty bruise during the competition. She watched as Charlie took the lead and put the beast through various paces to determine if and when it would limp on the injured leg.

A light knock at the door brought her attention away from the window. "Come in." She turned in her chair and was surprised to find Jocko standing in the doorway. "Sergeant Jackson, come in. What can I do for you?"

"Well, ma'am, I think it is more a matter of what can I do for you. I understand you are making plans for the wedding. I thought you might like my assistance."

"That would be wonderful." She rose from her seat and poured him a cup of tea. "Please come sit with me so we can talk."

Jocko looked a little uncomfortable as he sidled over to the chair and tucked his cap in his belt. "Thank you, ma'am. I know you want to do this wedding right and all, and I thought maybe my knowing the military side of things would be helpful."

"Very helpful, Sergeant. It is important to me that Charlie has a wedding proper for his standing in the Army and his future standing here in Culpeper. I want everything to be perfect." She placed his cup on the table in front of him then retook her seat. "I would be grateful for your support."

Jocko took a sip of tea. "Good tea, ma'am. Dark like the stuff I had as a child." He cleared his throat. "Well, ma'am, I am not sure what you want. Military weddings can be anything from very, very quiet and private to very formal. I think General C would prefer to go to the more private end."

"Then that is what we will give him. Perhaps you would be willing to work with Mrs. Cooper, as she is handling the details for the ceremony? I know I am having a devil of a time getting any information from Charlie about what he wants. I ask him a question and he says, ‘‘Whatever pleases you, dear.’ I swear to you, Sergeant, there are some days I want to choke him." Her chuckle with the statement made it very clear to Jocko it was a threat made with love and a goodly amount of frustration.

"Ah, as you may know, ma'am, getting married was not something General C thought about very much, as he was not one who, ah, was on the list of available gentlemen, if you know what I mean? So I think he may be a little stymied here. As a single gentleman, he has not had much experience with planning parties and such."

"I am sure." She looked seriously at Charlie’s friend and companion. "You do know that I love Charlie dearly?"

"I know he thinks you do. I know he is head over heels with you and I know if you hurt him, I swear I do not know what I will have to do to keep him together."

She reached out and laid her hand over his. "Jocko, I promise you, I do love Charlie. I would never hurt him. I will spend the rest of my life caring for him and protecting him."

Jocko stood up and walked over to the window. Looking out, he could see Charlie and several other troopers working with a couple more injured horses. Charlie, the officer, the soldier and the man he knew, was in his element. But Jocko knew what lay underneath. He turned back to Rebecca. "And what about her –– the woman? How do you feel about that, Mrs. Gaines?"

"I love her."

Jocko thought for a few minutes. "Well, so you say." He walked back over to the chair. "So, ma'am, here is a list of the officers I think should attend, and a copy of the standard protocols for a small, second marriage to a man of Charlie's rank. I checked the protocol manual before I came."

She took the list and tucked it away. "Thank you." Then she looked at him with a look that only a frustrated Southern woman could muster. "You do not believe me, do you?"

Jocko looked the woman in the eye. "Ma'am, this has all been really quick. General C's been alone for a long time - in fact he thought he would always be alone and always be in the Army. Then you came along and all of a sudden, he is ready to settle down, marry you and be a da to these bairns from who knows where. So I am wondering, when he comes back from the last battle, with his heart on his sleeve, will you be here? What if he is injured or maimed? Will you still want your beautiful boy?"

"Yes, I know it has been quick. But sometimes, when two people come together, there is just something that compels them to be with each other. My parents were that way. My father fell head over heels for my mother the first time he saw her and courted her diligently for two years before she finally agreed to marry him. But my father always said, he knew from the moment he set his eyes upon her face there was no other in this world for him."

Rebecca stood and looked out of the window at Charlie, who was gently petting and soothing the injured horse he was treating. "That is how I felt the very first time I saw Charlie. I did not understand it at the time, but thinking back on my father’s words, now I do. There is no other for me. And it is not just the image, Sergeant Jackson. It is very much the woman I love."

She turned to face him. "I do not care how Charlie looks when he returns home. All that matters to me is that he does." She approached the Sergeant, standing over him to make perfectly sure he was clear on the next thing she was about to say. "I will not care if Charlie is wounded. I will not care if he is maimed. I only care that he returns home alive."

Rebecca retook her seat. "I know you are one of Charlie’s dearest friends and I know you are only concerned for him. I value that, for Charlie needs his friends at his side. I had thought you and I were on our way to becoming friends, Sergeant Jackson, but if you do not believe in my sincerity of feelings for Charlie, then I cannot believe that is the case. I do appreciate your help with the wedding and I will have Mrs. Cooper consult you about further plans." She sipped her tea. "Good day, sir."

"Ah, ma'am, I think I may have managed to join a clan I usually do not associate with. The Clan O'Blivious. You have my most profound apologies. I allowed my natural skepticism to overwhelm the evidence before me. And Charlie is going to have his hands full, I can see." With a sweeping bow, Jocko continued. "I do hope, madam, that you and I can be more than friends - that we can be allies."

"I would very much like that Sergeant. I do so want Charlie’s friends to be my friends and find comfort in our home. Your apology is gratefully accepted sir. Thank you." She gestured back to his seat. "Now, please finish your tea while we figure out what kind of wedding to give our Charlie."

Jocko smiled as he took his seat. His General had found his match - a stubborn Southern woman with a high sense of honor and devotion. Well, perhaps he would take Charlie up on his offer of a position after the war.

--*--

Tuesday, January 3, 1865

A fine layer of frost lay over the ground, so the world glittered in the thin, clear early morning sunlight. Both men were squinting into the rising sun as Jocko drove Charlie to the train station.

Charlie rode with the engineer, fascinated with the intricacy of the great steam engine. Into the crisp morning, the black smoke, filled with ashes and cinders from the burning wood of the engine left a trail of urgency that almost matched Charlie’s need to finish his errands in the Capitol and return to Rebecca. He was hoarding every moment with her; this trip was a necessity he was determined to complete as quickly as possible.

The lamplighters were out doing their work as the cab Charlie had hired at Union Station moved down Massachusetts Avenue in the direction of downtown Washington. Charlie rode toward the White House, which was just a block away from the hotel he always stayed at, the venerable Willard. He paid the cabbie then walked in.

"Ah, Colonel Redmond." The clerk at the counter registered the change in insignia. "Excuse me, General. Welcome. It has been many months. Congratulations on your promotion."

"Hello, Simpkins. Thank you. Do you have a room available?"

"Yes, sir. Would you like some dinner while I have it prepared?"

"Something simple, I think. Perhaps just a plate in the tap room?"

"As you wish. I will have a bath drawn for you as well."

"Thank you, Simpkins."

"Would you like me to send around and inform Miss Lizzie you are in town?"

"Not tonight, Simpkins. I have another appointment this evening. I will see her myself tomorrow."

Charlie ate a simple dinner of roast mutton and greens, then took a quick bath to remove the dust and grit of the train from his hair and body.

--*--

As he finished dressing for the evening, a doorman knocked politely and handed him a message. The materials he had brought up to show General Montgomery C. Meigs, the Quartermaster General of the Army, had been delivered. The General asked Charlie to present himself at his home that evening at eight. Charlie smiled, although the smile did not travel all the way to his eyes. Perhaps he would finally get to the bottom of this problem.

Charlie checked his appearance. He needed to be Sheridan’s perfect Regimental Commander tonight. With the letter from Sheridan tucked carefully into his breast pocket, he set out. It was unusual for Charlie to not have met a career officer like Meigs before, but then, Meigs had been a desk officer or an engineer for his entire career, while Charlie had been a field officer. While most of the men Charlie knew, including himself had at some point drawn administrative duty, the idea of doing it all the time made Charlie uncomfortable. He liked to be out and about too much to be stuck at a desk all day.

He arrived at Meig’s door exactly at 8:00. A well-mannered young captain met him at the door and escorted him into Meig’s study. It was nothing like Charlie had expected. The furnishings were good, but worn. There were ledgers and files carefully stacked all over the place. The man himself was not what Charlie expected either. He expected someone with money, power and a number of lackeys. He found a lean man with ink stained fingers, mediocre brandy, and an obvious desire to do a good job.

The two men talked at length. The problems were clear, but there was little either of them could do. With all of the money flowing to purchase the basics needed to run an army, it was easy for the purchasers in the field to make a little here, and a little there by substituting the goods ordered with lesser quality. And all those "littles" added up to an irresistible temptation for many of the men in Meigs’ command. In addition, there were too few people in the Quartermaster’s office, too many people in the field, and too many supplies needed to be able to control anything. Meigs was fully aware of the problems; he simply had not found a way to fix them.

Meigs had some suggestions for Charlie and prepared a number of notes for him to deliver the next day to the clerks and purchasing agents who provisioned his forces.

"I am sorry, Redmond, but that is the best I can do right now. There just is not enough time in the day to do better, given we have been draining the resources of this country for four years already. I wish you the best of luck."

Pleased to have met such a dedicated officer, yet discouraged by what little Meigs could do to help with his particular problems, Charlie returned to his room at the Willard as the night watch cried midnight. It would be a long morning dealing with the clerks in the Quartermaster’s office.

--*--

Em had been grumpy all day. Her papa was not there to play with. Dinner was abysmal. If Charlie was not there to feed her, she did not want to eat. Bedtime was purgatory. All Em could do was sob and call for Papa.

Finally, she fell asleep. Rebecca kissed Em goodnight, pulling a blanket over the sleeping baby's shoulders. "Sleep well, little one. Papa will be home in a few days."

Rebecca stoked the fire in her room to keep it warmer through the night now that she was sharing a room with Em. Constance could no longer care for her child, having barely enough strength to eat the soup Beulah was constantly providing to the young woman.

As Rebecca climbed into bed, her thoughts were a jumble, missing Charlie and knowing in her heart that Constance was not going to survive. She wanted to speak with the young woman, but was not sure how to broach the what was on her mind. It seemed more than rude to ask her permission to look after Em. For Rebecca felt almost like the angel of death, waiting for Constance to pass.

She rolled over and pulled Charlie's pillow into her arms, realizing that tomorrow she would have to speak with Constance. Things would simply have to be put in order; surely Constance would understand and appreciate her concern.

She rolled over again and stared into the fireplace thinking about all the things that had to be accomplished before Charlie left for the spring campaign. The most important thing, of course, was their wedding, which was coming closer every day. Rebecca was terrified they would not be able to provide a wedding worthy of Charlie and his position.

The ladies of the community were very reassuring and very good about letting Rebecca fret. They actually found her quite amusing. She, on the other hand, was becoming the epitome of the nervous bride-to-be.

She had been nervous on her wedding day to Gaines, but for entirely different reasons. Her nervousness with Gaines had been generated by fear. With Charlie, it was because of the love she felt. She decided she definitely preferred the feelings marrying Charlie evoked.

When she drifted into sleep it was restless; she was continually searching for Charlie. His absence was having a severe impact on her ability to sleep. Then the dream started; Charlie's lips tenderly kissing her neck. She groaned and threw the covers off to try and cool her body, which was quickly becoming overheated.

Chapter 24

Wednesday, January 4, 1865

Charlie’s first stop on that cold morning was with his attorney to draw up a new will. Then he headed off to the bank to add Rebecca to his accounts and to set up her own trust fund. He was surprised, and quite pleased, to discover he was a far more wealthy man than he had thought. The balance was several hundred thousand dollars, due to some very astute investments his banker had made. On every payday for almost twenty years, he had placed funds in the hands of the bank’s investment and estate planners, and they had done a fine job for him. He was, by all social conventions and measure, a very wealthy man.

From there, he went to the office of the Paymaster of the Army. He spent a very long time working with the Army’s clerical staff arranging for Rebecca to receive his pension in the event of his untimely demise, as the terms of the benefits contract stated.

Having completed his legal tasks, he set off to the haberdashery on G Street with Rebecca’s list clutched in his hand. Walking into the store and looking around was a rather intimidating experience for the usually self-effacing General. It was a world that was very definitely feminine, filled with bolts of fabric in all weights, materials, and colors, with great racks of buttons, pre-made bows, rolls of lace, threads of more colors than any rainbow ever contained. There were forms that could be adjusted to emulate the exact body structure of a woman. All of this was flanked with acres of hat forms, feathers, ribbons, and things for which Charlie simply could not identify.

Charlie looked at the list in his hand and at the bewildering array in front of him and realized he needed help…… lots of help.

He turned around and marched out of the building. The jeweler would be much easier. Rounding the corner, he went into the discreet and elegant shop a few doors down from the haberdashers’. The shop owner looked at the dapper General and recognized a gentleman of taste. The two gentlemen talked quietly, and then Charlie looked at some stones and settings. Within about thirty minutes, they had reached a satisfactory agreement. Charlie arranged to return the following afternoon to pick up three rings –– two for Rebecca and one for himself.

Charlie took himself back to the Willard for a glass of beer in the lobby. It had become a tradition in town that all gentlemen of substance met in that large lobby at around 4:00 every afternoon for a glass of beer. Mr. Lincoln walked over from the White House, along with his command officers and advisors. Anyone who wanted to see the President made a point of being there to join him. Charlie wanted to have a final word with the Quartermaster General, and meeting at the Willard during the afternoon gentlemen’s constitutional was much easier than trying to get another appointment. Unfortunately, General Meigs did not show up. Charlie politely saluted his Commander-In-Chief, who had a couple of kind words for him, finished his beer, then went upstairs to don eveningwear. He had a mission –– to acquire knowledgeable feminine support when he went back to the haberdashery on G Street the next day.

His evening would be spent convincing Lizzie to help.

--*--

Rebecca paused outside the door of Constance's room, with the breakfast tray. She decided she would see how the young woman was feeling before bringing up the unpleasant business at hand.

Entering quietly, so as not to disturb Constance if she was resting, she was surprised to see her sitting up in a chair looking out of the window.

"Good morning dear, it is good to see you up and about."

"Good morning, Rebecca. It is a lovely morning, is it not? I think the view from your back windows, out over the fields, with the mountains in the mist, is one of the most peaceful sights I have ever seen."

There was a strange quality to Constance’s visage. She was pale and frail, except for the swelling of her belly, but there was clarity and a peace Rebecca had never seen on anyone’s face before.

"Yes, I love it here. It is a beautiful place." She sat the tray on the small table then moved it in front of the young woman. "I am fortunate that I will be able to remain here. So many others have lost so much."

"But you have chosen to share it with us, and for that I am very grateful. You have given me more than I can ever express thanks for. You have given me peace at a time when I thought I would never experience it again. And you have given me a vision for my future and my childrens’ future that I am very happy with."

"I am glad. You know you are welcome to remain here for as long as you like. Charlie and I have fallen in love with Em and we would miss her terribly."

"I am glad that you have. For I am thinking that the reward of bringing this little one into the world," she patted her belly, "will be for me to rejoin my darling Henry. If God does grant me that dearest gift, I hope you and the General will raise my children as loving, devout and honorable people."

"Constance, I know you are not feeling well, but there is always hope."

Constance looked at Rebecca and smiled gently. "My dear, you really do not understand. Without Henry, my life is a torment of pain and aching loss. This child is just a small part of that. More than anything, I am without the other half of my soul. The hope, for me, is to be with Henry again. With you and Charlie to look after my children, I can go to him with no regrets, for I know they will have a far better life than I could ever give them now. They will be loved, cared for, and raised as your own. So yes, I have hope. I have hope that this pain, this empty aching that plagues me day and night, will be eased."

Rebecca fought hard not to cry. She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes and took Constance's hand. "I promise you, with my heart and soul, that if you should join your dear Henry, Charlie and I shall give the children the best upbringing possible. But I have a request of you."

"What is that, dear Rebecca?"

"I would ask you to write a letter to each of the children, telling them of yourself and of Henry. Then when they are older and the time is right, I will see to it they are given the letters. While Charlie and I will love and raise them as our own, I believe it will be important for them to know they had parents who loved and cared for them."

"Of course, and Rebecca, you and Charlie are their parents as much as I ever was. For this little one, I believe you will be far more of a parent than I ever could be, even if I survive. I would request that if the price of this child coming into the world is that I pass on, you raise him or her as your own, as if the child were born of your body, not mine."

"As you wish. I promise."

"Rebecca, you are not understanding, are you?"

She shook her head. "Apparently not."

"Think about how you feel with Charlie. What if Charlie was never coming back? How would you feel?

"I have been trying not to think of that very thing lately. I would be devastated."

"Think of what I have lost, dear. My beloved husband, the other half of my soul, my home, my family. Think of how you would feel if Charlie were killed. All I have left is Em and the child of my rapists. The child will come into the world, and I will pass out of it. As far as I can tell, God decided to keep me around for a while so the children would have the home and family and love they deserved. Otherwise, I should have died the night that Montgomery and his men visited. So know, as I know, Charlie will survive. He is meant to be the father to these children."

With those words came the end of Rebecca's control. Tears flowed from her eyes as she stood and gave Constance a gentle hug. "We will love them and raise them as you and Henry would have. We will give them a good life."

--*--

Jocko whistled as he rode up to the little house on the edge of the little village of Alanthus. He was looking forward to calling on the lovely Esther White. After that first visit with Charlie when she had approached him to ask for help, he had called on her a number of times. In fact, he visited her whenever he could get a day off, which lately had not been very often. If he left just after morning chores, he made it to her house by late morning, could spend time and have lunch and tea, then return to the farm in good time. He was looking forward to lunch today, as she was a dedicated and skilled cook.

There was a thin trail of smoke coming from one of the two chimneys in her small cottage. In this weather, she should have had both fireplaces going. Jocko looked around, concerned that perhaps she was conserving firewood since he had not checked her woodshed in several days. As he rode by, he looked. There was plenty of wood in the shed.

He got to the door and tethered his mount to the fence railing. Usually, by now she would be at the door to greet him. He hurried to the door and knocked. A faint voice answered him.

She sat huddled beside the single fire, staring listlessly into the flickering flames. She had been beaten. Her hands shook. Her eyes were dull with pain and shame. Her clothing was ripped. To Jocko’s war hardened eyes, it was obvious. She had been raped.

His first reaction was anger, which he quickly swallowed. She needed his gentleness now, not his anger.

"Esther, dear, it is Jocko."

"Go away." She did not turn to look at him. "I cannot see you any more."

"Esther. Who did this to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Esther, who beat you?" He took a deep breath and asked the obvious question. "Who raped you?"

She laughed without humor. "One of the men who came out here to fill our wood sheds. Davison, I think his name was. He had two friends. This is what I get for letting you Yankees take care of me. They came back, they said, to collect for the work they had done."

"Davison." Jocko clenched his fists. The name fell into the void between them. "Esther, General Redmond expelled him from the army about a month ago and sent him home. He is no longer a soldier. We thought he had left the area. All we can do now is to find him, arrest him, and deal with him. But first, my dear, I need to get you to a doctor."

"No. Leave me."

"Esther, I cannot leave you. I love you." Jocko said the words without thinking. He had never said them to a woman in his life, except for his mother. Yet he knew they were true as he heard them leave his mouth. "Let me take you to Dr. Walker. She will help, I promise."

Esther White nodded numbly. She moved like a puppet as he scurried around collecting a change of clothes and some other odds and ends, banked the fire, and then wrapped her in a warm quilt and carried her outside. Gently he lifted her up into the saddle and pulled himself up behind her. Carrying her battered body in his arms, he set out for what he was beginning to think of as home.

--*--

Charlie walked up the steps to Lizzie Armstrong's Capitol Hill mansion at the socially unacceptable hour of 7:00 pm. He hoped to catch her before the evening's festivities started and convince her to assist him in braving the unknown world of feminine finery. Tucking his hat under his arm, he knocked on the door.

A very proper butler responded with a superior look on his face. No one who was anyone would knock on the door this early.

"Good evening, Sir. Whom may I say is calling?"

"Good evening. Would you please tell Mrs. Armstrong that Charlie Redmond would appreciate a moment of her time?"

The butler left Charlie standing in the hall, waiting, instead of showing him to a parlor.

Lizzie came down the steps, not even trying to hide the smile on her face at the appearance of her favorite companion. "General Redmond, you dear man." She took the last two steps to the landing and threw her arms around Charlie, bestowing on him a passionate kiss. "I heard of your promotion. Congratulations."

"Uh..." Charlie was captured in the woman’s arms, yet struggled gently to disengage her embrace. "Lizzie, I need your help, and you and I really need to talk. I have some news..."

"Oh, I am sure you do. It has been months, Charlie. Come on upstairs, we can talk up there."

"Can we go to your parlor, Lizzie?"

"The parlor? A bit public for your usual tastes." She chuckled and took his arm.

"Lizzie, dear friend. Perhaps you had better hear my news before we go any farther."

The woman sighed and smiled. She knew her General was an odd bird at times. Taking his hand, she walked to the parlor. "All right Charlie, what is your news? Let me guess, you have decided after the war to come back here, sweep me off my feet and take me away from all this."

Charlie had the grace to blush. "Actually, Lizzie, I have met someone."

"Oh." She tried to mask her disappointment. Over the years, as she had come to know Charlie, she had come to care for him very much, if not love him more than a little. "I see. Congratulations."

"I wanted to tell you personally, dear friend, because if you had not taken me in hand, I would never have had the courage to find my mate. I owe you a greater debt than I can ever repay."

"Well, I am happy for you, General." She took a seat on the davenport and tried to give him a sincere smile. "She is a very lucky lady."

Charlie looked at Lizzie. He knew that something was wrong, but had no idea what it was. "So, my dear friend, something seems to be bothering you. Can I help?"

"No, Charlie. I must admit this is a bit of a surprise." She patted the sofa. "Come sit and tell me of your lady." She got up and moved to a small brandy cabinet. "Your usual?"

"Yes, thank you. Lizzie, her name is Rebecca, and she has a horse farm down in Culpeper. She is the most delightfully spunky woman I have ever met, courageous, strong, sure of herself - and so kind and gentle."

Lizzie poured the drink, trying to gain control of her emotions. It would not do for a woman in her position to show concern over this. Picking up two glasses she settled back down next to Charlie, handing him one of the glasses. "Well, now she sounds like she has completely captured your heart, Charlie."

"She has, Lizzie, she has," he paused, "she knows, you know. She wants…… me."

The woman smiled and took Charlie's hand. "I am glad, dear Charlie, truly glad. I am sure she is a special lady. You know, though, if you ever find yourself wanting, I will always be here for you."

Something in Lizzie's voice caught Charlie's attention. "Lizzie?" He looked into her eyes. "What is wrong, Lizzie."

She looked away for a moment then looked back. "I suppose now is as good a time to confess as any. I have always been just a little in love with you, Charlie. I know a woman such as myself could never be a proper wife to someone of your standing. But there were nights, after you had been here, that I would lie wake and wonder about you and harbor just a little bit of a dream."

"Why, Lizzie? Why did you stay quiet?"

"Charlie, look at what I am. I could never have gotten past this. I am a lovely distraction, a convenience. I am not the type of woman a man would make his wife."

"I am not the type of man a woman would make as her husband. We could have talked about it. I am truly sorry."

"You had no way of knowing. But you have found someone and I am happy for you."

"Thank you, my dear. You know if there is anything you ever need, you have only to call on me."

"Oh no, Charlie. It would not do for me to come into contact with this lady of yours. I doubt she would appreciate me as much as you do."

"Rebecca would understand my giving assistance to nyone who is my friend. I have told her a little about you, you know."

"Oh, Charles Redmond, you have not!"

"She asked me what I had done for companionship. I told her. I also told her how kind and what a good friend you are."

"Oh lovely. Charlie, you know as well as I do that gentlemen do not speak of me to wives and sweethearts. I cannot believe you did that."

"Lizzie, she asked and I answered honestly. That is what our relationship is built on - our ability to be truly honest with one another."

"That is a very interesting relationship." She smiled and sipped her brandy.

"Lizzie, you know what I am. How can I be anything other than totally honest and still hope to have a relationship that will last?"

"This is true. So she knows? I did not think you let most people know your secret, Charlie. I thought I was one of only a handful."

"You are, my dear. But I think that if one is going to have a relationship that works for life, honesty is important. She knew the day she met me."

Lizzie chuckled. "She is clearly a very perceptive woman as well. It took me what, a month before you told me? So tell me, what are your plans?"

"I want to marry her before I go back into battle. That is actually one of the reasons why I called on you. I need your help."

"My help? How could I possibly help you?" She smiled and raised her brows. "A tutoring session for the wedding night maybe." She winked and squeezed his thigh, letting her finger track gently up and down it, as she knew he liked.

Charlie quietly captured her hand with his own, stilling those distracting strokes. "I was actually hoping for something more prosaic. I have a list of things that she wants me to get for the wedding, and I do not even begin to understand it. I went to the haberdasher’s on G Street today and found I needed to make a strategic withdrawal and get myself some reinforcements. I was hoping you would be my guide?"

She stifled a laugh and took Charlie's hand. "Yes, of course, my dear man, I will be very happy to help you with anything you need." She moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek, before whispering in his ear. "Anything."

"Ah, well, then, shall I call for you tomorrow morning?"

"If I cannot convince you to stay the night. Really, Charlie, you are not married yet. And even then, you know most of my customers have wives at home."

Charlie smiled gently. "I know, Lizzie. Believe me, I do appreciate the offer. But I have promised her my heart, my soul, my honor and my body. And as much of a temptation as you offer, I know you would not have me break my oath."

"Of course not. You are the most honorable gentleman I have ever met. I would ask you to do nothing to sacrifice that."

"I shall not. Then, dear, I know your livelihood depends on your ability to be a wonderful hostess, so I will not take you away from that tonight. Shall I call at noon tomorrow?"

"That would be fine, Charlie." She took his hand and caressed it with her cheek, her eyes closing slowly. "I am going to miss you, Charlie."

Charlie cupped her face in his hand and then leaned in to place one very tender kiss on her lips. "You will always hold a very special place in my heart, dear Lizzie."

"And you in mine, Charlie. If she ever hurts you, I shall take her to task over it."

"Thank you, dear, but I think she is, if anything, even more protective of me than you are."

"Good." She smiled. "Then she is certainly the right woman for you."

"She is. Now you, dear, need to finish getting ready for your evening. And I must go off and be polite to the political branch of the army."

Lizzie stood and walked Charlie to the door. She held his arm and gave him serious consideration. "I think I shall have to find you a very special wedding gift, General Redmond. One that both you and your new wife can enjoy."

"Of course, we would both be honored by anything you gave us. Until tomorrow?"

She laughed. "Tomorrow. Good night, Charlie."

Charlie walked through the chilly night, deep in thought. Lizzie had fantasies of a life together? But Lizzie could have any man she wanted –– and often did. Why me? She knows what I am, and still she had fantasies? Oh, my.

--*--

Thursday, January 5, 1865

Washington, which was usually marred with soot from thousands of chimneys and mud from hundreds of horses and carriages looked bright and sparkling with the morning frost. It was a stark contrast to the dark, cramped lamp-lit offices of the Quartermaster’s staff.

Charlie spent most of the morning at the War Office, discussing provisioning of the troops for the coming spring campaign. He worked his way patiently through a veritable battalion of clerks until he finally found himself across the desk from an old colleague from West Point. Together, they bemoaned the crookedness of military suppliers, but no real resolution to the boot problem was found. Finally, he took his leave and strolled up to Capitol Hill and Lizzie’s quietly elegant home.

A knock on the door brought the same stiffly formal butler as on the previous day, but a much warmer welcome. Lizzie was waiting for him in the private parlor, wearing a deceptively simple day dress, with a fur-collared overcoat waiting on the chair.

"Good afternoon, Lizzie. I cannot thank you enough for your assistance. I brought the shopping list Rebecca gave me." Charlie looked a little embarrassed.

Lizzie rose from the chair and smiled at her friend. "It is my pleasure, Charlie. Anything I can do to help."

"Then, ma'am, shall we be on our way? I asked your butler to hail us a hackney as I came in." He held her coat for her.

Slipping into her coat, she touched Charlie's hand. "Now you must tell me all about your dear Rebecca."

"What would you like to know, my friend?"

"Anything that will help me, help you," she took his arm as they walked toward the door.

"Well, she is a small woman, about so tall." He indicated her height with his hand level with the line of his chin. "Very slender, with a lovely, delicate figure. It is deceptive; she looks fragile, but she is an outstanding horsewoman with enormous stamina. She has long slender hands and feet; I think they are elegant. Her hair is ash blonde with a touch of gold in it. Her eyes are a mossy green and change color with her mood, sometimes clear like early spring buds, sometimes darker like the color of pines in the late afternoon. There are little flecks of amber in them, as well."

"Oh, and she has a strong chin that sometimes juts out when she is being determined."

Lizzie laughed at her friend's description. "Is there anything you have not noticed, Charlie?"

Charlie had the grace to blush. "Probably. But I cannot for the life of me think what it is. I even know where she has a couple of scars from chickenpox."

"Really?" She moved closer and whispered. "Where?"

Charlie laughed, as the blush grew deeper. "One on her cheek near the corner of her mouth and one on her belly next to her navel."

"My, my, Charlie. You do know the lady well."

The blush spread and deepened still further. "Well, not as well as I would wish, to be sure, but yes."

They climbed into the cab and Lizzie settled herself. "Tell me, Charlie, are you two intimate?"

A long sigh escaped from deep in Charlie’s chest. "That is a relative question, my dear friend. Have we played with intimacy? Yes. Have we claimed one another completely? No, not yet. She was married before, to a man who used and abused her, so in many ways, she is just learning about intimacy. We move slowly, as I want her to find pleasure and comfort in the physical aspect of our relationship."

"Well, I will tell you now, Charles Redmond, that in your arms she will find nothing but tenderness. You are the most tender lover I have ever had."

"I do hope so, Lizzie. There are moments when I do not know if I can sustain that tenderness or even my most basic control. I confess, sometimes wanting her seems to burn through me. But watching her grow and blossom under my hands and my patience is a wonderful thing."

"Hmm. I am sure. You have made headway with her, I take it."

"I think so." Charlie paused for a moment. "Lizzie, thank you. If this is uncomfortable for you, I will understand, but I really have no one else but you that I can talk with about."

"Charlie, you should know that matters of sex and love are not uncomfortable for me. I will help you in any way I can. I only want you to be happy, my friend."

"Thank you. And thank you for braving the wilds of the fabric merchants. I was totally overwhelmed when I walked in there yesterday."

"It can be very overwhelming. Tell me, what color dress does Rebecca want?"

"Well, the list of things she gave me to get should cover that."

Lizzie continued to chuckle as she looked at the list. "Nothing here is all that unusual, Charlie. Fabric, buttons, hooks, some lace..." She looked at him and smiled. "I think you are just a nervous groom."

"You are very right about that. I never believed I would meet someone I would want to settle down with, let alone someone who would actually want me."

"Life is full of surprises, Charlie, but I never doubted for one moment that one day you would find someone."

A bittersweet half smile illuminated Charlie's face for a moment. "You know what I am, Lizzie. What were the chances of finding someone who could deal with that in a spouse?"

"Dear Charlie, I hate to break this to you, but your situation is not all that uncommon. Granted it is not spoken of, but there are many women such as you."

"Who disguise themselves as men and pass within the community? Or women who seek the company of other women?"

She patted his hand. "Both. I have another client."