Daughter of Twin Oaks (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Southeastern Missouri

October 6, 1862

So far, so good.

Jesselynn looked back over the marshy river delta and shook her head. Thanks to Benjamin’s careful scouting, they’d missed burying the wagon in swamps and ponds more than once. The one diggingout they’d had to do was bad enough. But they were still safe, and considering the possibilities, that was a miracle in itself.

“Found de Indian trace dat man tol’ me ’bout.” Meshach rode beside her as she guided the horses up the faint road.

“Where?”

“South of here. Not better’n dis but no worse.”

“If only we dared go on up to the Wire Road. Heard tell there are even bridges across some creeks.” Jesselynn rubbed her forehead with one hand, wishing the headache that came with her monthlies would disappear, the cramps too. Maybe she should let Ophelia drive the wagon and she could sleep in the back with the boys.

Thoughts of her mother handing her a hot brick wrapped in flannel and tucking her back in bed for a nap crossed her mind. A breeze fluttering the curtains at the window, clean crisp white sheets, a pillow, and when she woke up, she could curl up with a book if she wanted. The work of the plantation would go on around her, and …

“Marse Jesse, you all right?”

Jesselynn sighed. “I reckon. Show us the way to the trace. I can’t wait to get to Uncle Hiram’s, and if that way is faster and safer than this, I’m all for it.”

Since they hadn’t seen any sign of habitation for the last two days, they had decided to travel in the daylight, hoping to make better time. With Meshach clearing brush with his machete at times, they still were able to keep moving. A campfire at the end of the day, hot food and coffee, and the dreams of home didn’t cause quite so much pain. She sat on a log and opened her journal, using the light from the fire to guide her.

We made a good twenty miles today, the best in some time, but now the trail is thickening in again, the brush trying to reclaim the space. Finally Sammy is feeling good and he and Thaddy, or Joshwa, as he insists on being called, are near close as brothers. To think I even considered leaving him. If Mama knew the thoughts I’ve had, she would be so disappointed in me that I couldn’t bear the sorrow in her eyes. She would tell me to get down on my knees and ask the Lord’s forgiveness, but I cannot tell her that I have begun to wonder if there really is a God who would allow such terrible things to go on. She would say “God is love,” but all I seem to see and hear lately is pure hatred.

She glanced up to see Ophelia scoop the two boys up and whirl them around, making their giggles bring a smile to her face. No, not all was hatred, at least not here in the safety of their camp.

Ahab stopped grazing and, lifting his head, nickered, his ears pointing into the scrub oak. Meshach slapped his Bible closed and in one smooth motion stood with his rifle in hand. Jesselynn reached for the pistol she kept at her side.

“Don’t shoot.” The voice sounded like a child’s cry.

Jesselynn capped her ink bottle and set her journal down on the log, easing to her feet at the same time.

“Come, show yo’self.” Meshach held the rifle at the ready.

“We’uns was jus’ hopin’ fer some supper.” Only her tattered skirts let them know she was a girl. She clutched the hand of a stick-figure boy. They were both barefoot and shivering in the evening chill. While the days had stayed warm, the nights were a different matter.

Ophelia set the boys down and swung the kettle back over the low flames. “Come on over here and git warmed up.”

The two moved toward the fire as if walking on coals, so hesitant were they.

“We don’ mean no harm.” The girl held out her empty hands. “Don’ got no gun nor nothin’.” The boy clung to her skirt, staring at the kettle as if he’d never seen anything so fine in his life.

“My name is Jane Ellen, and this here is John Mark.”

“Where are your folks?”

“Daid. Shot by some soldiers in butternut uniforms. We was hidin’ in de cave where Mama kept food cool. We’uns went back too fur for anyone to find us. They took all our food and the cows and chickens.”

Ophelia handed them each a bowl and spoon and stepped back. Before she could turn around, they’d scraped the bowls clean.

“Dey need more.” Meshach filled the bowls again. “Y’all better slow down or you be sick.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Dey might like hot water to wash.”

Benjamin threw more wood on the fire, poured water into another pan, and set it in the coals. “I git some more.”

“We ain’t had hot food for I don’ know how long. I caught us a squirrel in a snare, but it weren’t easy to eat without cookin’.” When Ophelia handed her a cup of hot coffee, the girl cupped her hands around the heat and sniffed the aroma, her eyes closed in delight.

Sammy and Thaddeus edged closer to the boy, who used his fingers to scrape the bowl clean. They stared at each other, then back at the boy.

John Mark looked up at them, then edged closer to his sister, if that were possible, clutching the bowl to his chest as if they would snatch it away. Just as Ophelia reached for the two little boys, the shivering boy on the ground vomited his supper all over both himself and his sister.

“Pew.” Thaddeus stepped back, Sammy with him. “Stinky.”

“Don’t you no nevermind,” Jane Ellen said, comforting her little brother, while trying to shake the gluey mess off her already filthy skirt. “You got any bread or biscuit he might have?”

Ophelia dug in the box where she kept leftovers and handed a biscuit to the boy. “Now you eat dat nice an’ slow, you hear?”

At the same time, Meshach poured a cup of warm water and gave that to the child. “Here you go, easy now. Maybe soak yo’ biscuit in de water and chew real slow.”

The boy flinched away when Meshach extended a hand to help brush him off. “ ’Phelia, surely you got some soap and water fo’ dese two young’uns.” His gentle voice and warm smile did more to stop the two from shivering than anything else.

“We don’ gots no other clothes.” Jane Ellen stiffened her back and raised her chin, daring them to clean her up.

“No, I ’spose not. But we do.” Meshach rocked back on his heels. “Y’all go behind de wagon and strip off dem things, and ’Phelia bring you hot water and soap to wash in. You feel better den.”

“I’ll get them something to wear.” Jesselynn tucked her pistol in the back of her pants and headed for the wagon. Sure enough, here they hardly had enough to keep body and soul together for those she had with her and now they had two more. Three more mouths to feed than she had counted on, plus one more horse. And only one five-dollar gold piece left along with two nickels. How could they earn some money to augment what they had?

How long would it take them to get to Uncle Hiram’s anyway?

She paused with one foot in the wagon. Was that gunfire?

“Douse the fire! Now!”

But Meshach was ahead of her. Steam billowed up from the soaking ashes.

Within moments, the men brought in the horses and hid them in a thicket with the others standing to clamp a hand over a horse’s muzzle in case they started to whinny. Ophelia had the boys tucked down in the wagon, the two guests hunkering under the wagon bed.

Jesselynn stroked Ahab’s shoulder and kept a hand on his muzzle. “Easy, old son,” she whispered. “You gotta keep quiet. Easy.” All the while she strained to hear anything else. Surely there hadn’t been enough shots fired to show an ambush or an attack. Wouldn’t they have heard something earlier if there was a military patrol around?

But they had gotten lax. No one had been on guard or scouting.
Never again
, she promised herself.
No matter how safe we feel, someone stands guard
.

Rifle fire crackled again, sounding farther away. How many shots? She tried to count them so she’d know how many men. Were they regular troops or the marauder they’d been hearing about?

But according to what I heard in town, there are no regular troops this far south. Unless the Confederates have come up from Arkansas
.

But no matter how hard they listened, they heard only the night sounds that had come up again in the forest around them. An owl hooted. A coyote yipped and was answered by another. If the wild animals felt safe enough to resume their hunting and foraging, there could be no better alarm system.

She let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and led Ahab out of the thicket. Moonlight washed the wagon in silver and glistened white on the pairs of eyes peeking over the wagon sides.

“Dey’s gone?” Ophelia’s whisper carried on the gentle breeze.

“I guess.” Ahab nudged her in the back, so Jesselynn handed his lead rope to Meshach to tie them out again. “I’ll take first watch. The rest of you get to sleep.”

With the two guests cleaned up and their clothes washed in water from the stream, Ophelia tucked them into the blankets with the boys in the wagon bed and crawled in beside them all. The men rolled in quilts under the wagon, and the only sound was the horses grazing.

Jesselynn hunkered against the base of a tree overlooking the trail back the way they’d come. Because of the moonlight, the shadows seemed even deeper and darker. But the forest critters went about their business, so she felt about as secure as possible in spite of the shots fired.

In the morning she’d send Benjamin out to scout, but for now they all needed their rest.

She stretched and hunkered down again several times, yawning to keep awake, even resorting to pinching herself. While walking around helped, the forest noises quit at her movements, and she would feel the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Surely there was someone behind that big oak, the hickory, in the brush.

When Meshach spoke her name, she bit off a shriek, leaving the taste of blood in her mouth.

“Sorry, thought you heard me comin’.”

“How could I when you don’t make a sound?” Jesselynn whispered back, her heart still racing as if she’d been jumping logs.

“Heard anythin’?”

“Nope. One of the horses grunted and rolled—that ’bout gave me the shakes—but other than wild critters, nothing.”

“I’m goin’ take a look around. You stay here.”

“Good.” How could she tell him that the thought of tramping around in the dark like that scared her spitless? Maybe because her brothers used to jump out at her from dark places and scare her witless, she’d never been comfortable without a lantern or candle in the dark. Now driving the wagon, or riding, that wasn’t so bad, but walking? Uh-uh. She settled back against the tree trunk, every sense on full alert.

When Meshach returned, he cleared his throat a distance away, then whistled a whippoorwill’s song to let her know it was he. “All’s good.”

“I thought so.” Jesselynn stretched and handed him the rifle. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

She was asleep before she had the quilt wrapped clear around her.

She opened her eyes when Benjamin rode back into camp. Throwing back the quilt and pulling on her boots all in one motion, she dug her jacket out from under the quilt where she kept it so the dew wouldn’t be able to soak it in the dark hours before dawn. By now she’d learned to never stand up until she crawled out from under the wagon. One crack on the head had taught her the lesson well.

She headed to where the two men stood talking. “What did you see?”

“Nothin’ much. Someone camped but left in a hurry.” He handed her a tow sack. “Couple men, I think.”

She opened the mouth of the sack and saw dried beans, a side of bacon, and two small bags she assumed to be salt and coffee. “But what if they come back for their supplies?”

Benjamin shrugged. “One never come back. He daid. Confederate sojer. Found ’im in de woods some ways from camp.”

Sure, nothin’ much. Has death gotten so normal we think nothing of it?

She kept the thought to herself. “See any tracks?”

“Spent shells. Horses leave fast.”

“How many?” Getting information from Benjamin was like pulling pokeweed.

He shrugged. “Din’ count but dey gone.”

“Which direction?” Meshach looked up to study the clouds coming in from the west.