Dark Chaos (# 4 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (59 page)

             
May looked up with a grin.  “I reckon you’s gonna have a feast fit for a king,” she grinned.  “I ain’t had good things like this to work with for quite a while now.”  She shook her head.  “That Opal out on the plantation sure be a lucky woman.”  Her round face glowed from the heat.

             
“This is the warmest room in the house,” Carrie laughed, leaning against the table and sniffing the air appreciatively.  “I’m not sure how we’re going to keep this a secret with all these good smells.”

             
May jerked her head toward a pile of rags in the corner of the kitchen.   Her hands were covered with flour from making biscuits.  She ran one hand over her shiny face, leaving a white streak.  “You can stuff them things under the door.  That ought to keep most of the smells trapped right here.”

             
Carrie jumped to comply.  “You’re a smart woman,” she said admiringly.

             
“Yep,” May responded casually. 

             
Carrie laughed and edged over to pick off a piece of biscuit dough.  “I don’t know why you bother to cook them,” she grinned.  “They’re better raw.”

             
May grunted and swatted at her hand.  “Get on with you, Miss Carrie.  I gots enough work to do without you in here deviling me!” 

             
Carrie laughed and headed for the back door, then turned back.   “Didn’t Opal put some carrots in those boxes?” she asked innocently. 

             
“Might have,” May conceded.  “Why?”

             
“Well, it’s Christmas,” Carrie smiled.  “I thought - ”

             
“You ain’t giving none of our good food to that horse of yours!”  May snorted, then smiled, and reached into a box.  She fumbled around for a minute then came up with a plump carrot.  “Now get out of my kitchen,” she scolded, tossing her the carrot.

             
Carrie caught it with a grin, grabbed a coat from beside the door, and ducked out into the raw day.  She stood for a moment, stared up into the gray sky, and took deep breaths.  The whole country might be in the grip of dark chaos, but for this day she would put it out of her mind.  It was Christmas!  She turned and headed toward the stable.

             
Granite nickered a greeting before she had even opened the door to the barn.  “Can’t sneak up on you can I, old boy?”  Carrie called fondly.  Moments later his massive gray head rested on her shoulder while he munched contentedly on his carrot.   “I know you’re not getting enough to eat,” she said sadly, “but we’re doing the best we can.”  He didn’t look poorly, but he also didn’t have the gleam he once had.  Getting feed for him was every bit as difficult as obtaining food for the people in their household. 

             
Granite nickered as if to say he understood. 

             
Carrie stroked his head while she talked to him softly until the cold began to penetrate her clothing.  “Merry Christmas,” she called as she closed the door to the barn.

             
Carrie was overwhelmed by the delicious smells when she entered the kitchen.  Within minutes the warm, moist air had chased the chill from her shivering limbs.  She stood still for several moments, breathing in the aromas, before May looked up and saw her.

             
May jumped slightly.  “Girl, you always sneaking around on people like that?”

             
Carrie just laughed and moved forward.  “What else have you got for me to sample?”

             
May scowled and held up her rolling pin.  “I’m going to give you a sample of something, sure ‘nuff, if you don’t get out of my kitchen!” she warned. 

             
Carrie laughed, leaned forward to kiss the startled woman on her hot cheek, and then slipped out the door before May could recover enough to say something.   Robert and her father were deep in discussion when she reentered the parlor.

             
Robert glanced up.  “You smell good,” he commented. 

             
Carrie shrugged.  “Must be the hay from the barn.  I went out to visit Granite.”  She was relieved when Robert just nodded and turned back to her father.  She really wanted the meal to be a surprise. 

             
“Bragg never stood a chance against Grant,” Robert said, frowning.

             
Thomas nodded heavily.  “I knew things were going to end that way.  When Bragg beat back the Union army at Chickamauga, he should have finished the job.  Not that he probably could have,” he said thoughtfully.  “Oh, people screamed and hollered that he just wasn’t the man for the job, and maybe he wasn’t, but the truth of the matter is he didn’t have the resources to finish what he had started.”

             
“But to lay siege to Chattanooga when the Union retreated there and then sit and watch them gain strength while he got weaker surely wasn’t the answer,” Robert protested.

             
“Of course not,” Thomas agreed.  “There have been many people who tried to convince Davis that Bragg wasn’t the man for the job.  Our illustrious president did what he wanted.”

             
“And now he’s paid the price,” Robert stated, shaking his head.  “That Union general, Grant, seems to be rather effective.”

             
“Rather,” Thomas agreed dryly.  “It was when he took over the Union army in Chattanooga that things started to change.  The assault he led on November 24th was impressive.”

             
“Rather lucky!”  Robert snorted.  “I’ve talked to a couple of men who were there.  They said the Confederate position on Missionary Hill was so strong defensively it could have been held by a single line of skirmishers.  When our men saw 20,000 Union soldiers surging up that hill, they just panicked.  The fellow I talked to said they just turned tail and ran.” 

             
“Luck or skill,” Thomas replied.  “It doesn’t really matter. In the end, Grant was in sole charge of Chattanooga.  I think it is fair to say Tennessee has probably been lost for good.”               

             
Carrie stared at him.  His voice was amazingly matter-of-fact. 

             
Robert nodded grimly.  “I heard some men talking while I was in town the other day.  They were foolish enough to say they thought the Confederacy was as well off now as it was at the beginning of this year.”

             
“And what do they base such a ridiculous assumption on?”  Thomas barked then shook his head.  “Those men must have blinders on.”

             
“I agree,” Robert replied.  “From what I could tell of their conversation, they were basing their remarks on just the area between Richmond and Washington.  They contended that the rival armies had neither advanced nor retreated, in spite of the Union’s greater power.  They were boasting that the Union’s cry of
‘On to Richmond’
always meant  either a bloody beating or a shameful blunder for the invaders.”               

             
“Did you remind them there is more to the Confederacy than the relatively small amount of land between Richmond and Washington?”

             
“I didn’t figure it would serve any purpose to try to reason with men who were obviously ignorant,” Robert said dismissively.

             
Carrie moved forward with hot coffee and refilled both their cups.  Her father smiled at her gratefully, took a sip, and then resumed talking. 

             
“The truth of the matter is that the government is almost bankrupt.  We have an overinflated currency and a grossly inadequate tax system.”  He took a deep breath.  “We have no foreign affairs worth mentioning. Most of the other countries have decided after this summer that we will inevitably be defeated and have pulled back into the Union fold.”  He stopped and stared into the fire.  “Add to that the fact we have lost cities, rivers, and whole armies this summer.  No, I’m afraid that at the end of this year we have nothing but trouble to look at.”  He grimaced.  “I fear what will happen when winter is over.”

             
“Do you think it can possibly continue?”  Carrie asked anxiously.

             
“Oh, it will continue,” Thomas replied grimly.  “I heard President Davis’ speech to the Congress a few weeks ago.”  He picked up a paper.  “Let me read you what he said.”   He cleared his throat. 

             
“The Northern government  refused even to listen to proposals for the only peace possible between us - a peace which, recognizing the impassable gulf which divides us, may leave the two peoples separately to recover from the injuries inflicted on both by the causeless war now being waged against us.”
 

             
Thomas stopped and looked up.  “After having said that, he finished with this.”

             
“We now know that the only reliable hope for peace is in the vigor of our resistance.”

             
Robert looked at Carrie.  “Davis believes there is no conceivable way to bridge the gap between the North and the South.  Therefore his only hope is to fight as hard as he can.  To believe that somehow our armies can be made strong enough to keep the battle line from breaking.” 

             
“What do you believe?”  Carrie asked him quietly. 

             
Robert shrugged.  “I’ve thought a lot about it.  I’ve come to agree with your father that the defeat of the South is inevitable.  I have to believe that somehow the gulf separating the two halves of our country can be bridged.”  He shook his head.  “I just don’t know how it’s going to happen.”

             
Flushed with the heat pouring from her stove, Abby bustled about the kitchen of her handsome house.  She, promising a feast, had invited several friends over for Christmas dinner.  The aromas wafting through her house were testimony to the success of her efforts the last two days. 

Abby had welcomed the flurry of activity to take her mind off Matthew.  She had heard nothing since a brief notice from his office early in the fall that he had been taken prisoner, was once again in Libby Prison, and that all prisoner exchanges had been halted.  She vividly remembered his stories from his first confinement.  The last few days she had felt a heavier burden every time she thought of him.  Not knowing was driving her mad.  What was he being forced to endure? She shuddered, turned to stare out the window,
and then whispered a prayer for him.   After long minutes, she turned away.  She had company coming. 

             
Abby checked the last of her pies baking in the oven before she hurried into the dining room to put the finishing touches on her table.  Greenery was abundant, and candles lent a soft glow throughout the room.  Preferring the ambiance of candles, she had turned off the lanterns for this meal.  A crackling fire blazed in the fireplace.  A small tree in the corner cast a delightful fragrance through the room. 

             
She had just completed her preparation when the doorbell pealed through the house.  Abby whipped off her apron, stuffed a loose hair back into her bun, checked the mirror to make sure there were no smudges on her face, and then walked slowly to the door. 

             
Soon the house was full of the laughter of ten young women.  Abby gazed at them fondly.  All of them had been invaluable in her efforts to collect the petitions she had vowed to accumulate in Philadelphia.  All of them were also childless, with their young husbands off fighting for the Union somewhere.  Abby had been planning this meal for them for over a month.  It was her way of saying thank you.  It was also her way of helping ease the pain of a day designed for family. 

             
“I got a letter from Bernie,” Deborah, a stunning young redhead said happily.  Then she frowned.  “It was wonderful to hear from him, but it must be simply awful to be stuck in tents during this horrid weather.  This war simply has to end soon.”

             
“President Lincoln is sure it will,” Audrey, a rather plain looking blond, said eagerly.  “He’s already talking about reconstruction.  It makes the work we’re doing even more important.  One of the results of this war must be that all of the slaves are set free.”