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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

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BOOK: Fire Over Atlanta
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“Then that makes what I want to say easier.” Royal hesitated only for a moment. “I love you, Lori,” he said quietly. “I want to marry you someday and spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to grow old together and have grandchildren around our knees. All I can say is, I’ll love you as long as I live, and you’ll never know meanness from me. Lori, will you marry me?”

For a long time Lori had been expecting this, not knowing what she would say. She was drawn to Drake’s good looks and quick wit. But as Royal Carter stood before her, she knew she wanted more than good looks and quick wit for the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath and voiced her decision. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’ll marry you, Royal. I’ve loved you for a long time, I think. But now I know you’re the only man I would ever even think of marrying.”

Royal’s face lit up. He drew her forward, and his lips came down on hers. “I didn’t think you’d say yes. I was afraid you were in love with Drake.”

“Sometimes a girl has a hard time herself, knowing she has to choose. Drake may make some girl a fine husband, but it won’t be me.”

When Royal left, Lori walked upstairs to see if Mrs. Holcomb was all right. She found the old lady
barely awake but in some pain. This happened often lately. She quickly picked up a bottle of brown fluid and a spoon.

“Can you sit up, Aunt Grace, and take this?” She gave the patient the medicine and helped her to lie down again. “Now you’ll sleep. But before you do, I have something to tell you.”

Grace’s lips barely moved as she said, “I’ll bet I know what it is. You’re going to marry that soldier—the short one.”

“That’s right,” Lori said. “How did you know it wasn’t the tall one?”

The medicine had begun to take effect, but Mrs. Holcomb whispered, “You had something in your eyes for Royal that you never had with Drake …”

Lori thought then that her aunt had gone to sleep, but Mrs. Holcomb spoke again. “Tell Charlie to be careful about Drake.”

“I will,” Lori said, “but I don’t know if she’ll listen.”

9
“What’s Going On?”

C
ecil Taylor was pleased that Leah was paying him so much attention. He had been attracted to her ever since she first came to Richmond and now was even more so. As the two walked together along the street, he glanced at her, thinking how pretty she looked, and tried to find some way to say so. Actually, Cecil Taylor was very shy.

He was thin in his first lieutenant’s uniform. (It was new enough that he was still proud of it.) He glanced at their reflection in a shop window and thought they made a very handsome couple.

“Let’s go see if they have some ice cream, Leah.”

“Ice cream?” Leah turned to look where Cecil was pointing.

A sign advertised that delicacy.

“Let’s,” she said. “I haven’t had any ice cream in a long time.”

Leah’s plan to make Jeff jealous seemed to be working exactly as she had hoped. Almost every day for the past two weeks, Cecil had found some excuse to come to the house and visit her.

From time to time, Jeff would come by and see Cecil sitting on the front porch—or find her gone walking with him while Eileen kept Esther. She had noticed that the sweeter she was about it, the more Jeff seemed to be irritated.

Leah and Cecil went into the shop and were soon seated at a table with two large bowls of vanilla ice cream in front of them.

The proprietor, a small, heavy woman with a pair of bright, black eyes, smiled at them. “You better enjoy that ice cream,” she said. “We’ve used up about the last of the ice that we have in the ice house.” Her gaze grew troubled, and she turned away, saying, “It seems like it’s almost the last of something every time I turn around.”

“This is good ice cream,” Cecil said to Leah, “but I bet you could make better.”

Leah put a spoonful of the smooth dessert into her mouth, swallowed it, and then smiled sweetly. “And I bet you could make better ice cream too, Cecil.”

He laughed. “I never made ice cream. We always had the slaves do that. I tried to turn the freezer once, and my arm just absolutely gave out. Someday—” he grinned at her “—someday they’ll learn to hook up an ice cream freezer to a steam engine or maybe a water wheel.”

“Oh, they’ll never do that,” Leah said. Then she said, “You look so handsome in your uniform, Cecil.”

A blush spread over his countenance. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “But I do know you look very pretty in that dress.”

Leah was wearing a powder blue dress with dark blue ribbon woven into the neckline and along the hem. She and Eileen had worked hard on it for several days, and the result was just right. “Oh, do you like this dress?” she said coyly.

“I like you in almost anything,” Cecil said. He swallowed hard. Then he said, “We’ve gotten to be
real good friends in the last couple weeks, haven’t we?”

Leaning toward him, Leah said, “Yes, we have. It’s been wonderful having you come to see me, and we have had good times.”

She was pleased to see how easy it was to keep Cecil happy.
If only Jeff were as easygoing as Cecil
, she thought, when they had finished their ice cream and were leaving the shop.
Life would be a whole lot easier. But in just a few more days, I’ll have Jeff exactly where I want him
.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Leah,” Jeff said, tension in his voice. He stood over her as she sat in Uncle Silas’s front porch swing. He drew his lips into a thin line.

“I don’t know what you mean, Jeff.” Leah looked up innocently.

She had come home with Cecil to find Jeff inside talking to his father. Cecil had not stayed long, and when he left, Leah sat down on the porch. Jeff had come out almost at once.

Smoothing her dress, she said, “Why don’t you sit down, Jeff? You look all bothered.”

“I
am
bothered,” Jeff said, but he did not sit down.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, he teetered back and forth. He seemed to be trying to hold onto his temper. “What’s going on with all this attention you’re paying to Cecil?”

“I wasn’t aware that I was paying any attention to him.”

Jeff stared at her. “You’ve taken up lying too, have you?”

Leah’s temper flared. “I wasn’t lying!”

“You were too! I’ve seen that look in your eyes since you were four years old! Every time you tell a fib, it’s like a sign saying, ‘Look at me, I’m lying.’ You know good and well you’ve been flirting with Cecil!”

“That’s a fine way to talk to me!”

“Somebody needs to talk to you!” Jeff said with exasperation. “You’re acting like the world’s worst flirt, and you know it!”

Leah felt a pang of guilt, for Jeff had put his finger on something that had been troubling her. Several times she had looked at Cecil and thought that she really was mistreating him. But then she’d justified her actions by telling herself that he liked her as a friend, and she liked him, and there was nothing wrong with having a good time together.

Still, Jeff’s words stung, and she said defensively, “I don’t see why you care. You’re always going to see Lucy!”

“Are we going to argue about that again? Are you still angry with me because she kissed me after that play?”

“I don’t care if she kisses you. That’s your business and hers.”

Jeff put out his hands in a gesture of despair. “What’s happened to you, Leah? You didn’t use to be like this. If this is growing up, then it doesn’t become you very much.”

“I
am
growing up! Maybe you haven’t noticed,” Leah snapped. “Boys are all alike. They think they can pay attention to any girl that comes along—but you just let a girl
look
at a boy, and she’s a flirt!”

“I don’t know why I waste my time with you,” he said. “You’re growing up all right, but I’m not sure I like all the changes I see.”

Leah decided that this had gone on long enough. She stood and put a hand on his arm. “Jeff, don’t be angry with me,” she whispered.

He seemed so tall and strong, and despite the fact that he wore only the uniform of a plain soldier, he still looked very good. His coal-black hair glistened, and she thought,
Jeff just doesn’t know how good-looking he is. And I guess that’s a good thing
. Aloud she said, “Cecil is a nice boy. He gets lonesome, I suppose. You’re just jealous.”

Jeff glared, anger growing in his face, and Leah was quick to see that of all the things she might have said, this was the last to make the quarrel disappear.

“Jealous?
That’s something for you to say! You practically turn green every time you see me with Lucy, and now you’re saying
I’m
jealous? I give up! But I’m telling you this, Leah. You’re making a mistake flirting with Cecil like that.”

“You really know everything, don’t you?” she taunted.

“I know Cecil’s a nice fellow, and I know you don’t really care anything about him, but
he
doesn’t know that. Some day your chickens are going to come home to roost.”

Wheeling, Jeff leaped off the porch to the ground and practically ran toward the road.

Leah watched him go and felt miserable.

Then she went inside and wandered through the house until she came upon Eileen sitting in the parlor, sewing. Sitting down, she said, “Eileen, did you have trouble when
you
were growing up?”

Smiling, Eileen put down her sewing and came over to sit beside her. Putting an arm around Leah, she said, “A girl needs a mother, Leah. Fortunately,
I had a good one, but you’re separated from yours now, and that’s a shame.”

“Jeff and I just had a fight.”

“Oh? What about?”

Leah suddenly discovered she wanted to tell Eileen what was happening—but at the same time, she didn’t. “Oh,” she said, “he’s jealous of Cecil.”

“Should he be?”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“You and Jeff have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Oh, yes. All our lives.”

“And you like him probably as well as any boy you ever knew, I would think. I’ve seen that in you.”

“That’s true. Jeff and I have always been close.”

“And yet you’ve been going around with Cecil every chance you get. I wonder why that is?”

Leah felt her cheeks burn, and she put her hands over them. “Oh, Eileen, I don’t know. I thought I might make Jeff a little bit jealous.”

“That’s very dangerous. I think you might be sorry about that.”

Her words were very close to what Jeff had said, and Leah felt tremendously uncomfortable.

10
Rosie Steps In

T
he camp for the Federal troops was south of Atlanta. Tents had been set up, and since the force was small, the duties were heavy. Most of the men had to stand guard at various times. Nevertheless, since there had been no uprising among the citizens and no likelihood that Johnston’s army would return to give them trouble, discipline relaxed as the days passed.

Drake had not forgotten his humiliation on the wooden horse, and he had been prohibited from leaving camp by the lieutenant. Day after day, he saw Royal go and come, and this made him sullen.

One afternoon, at the end of the first week of September, he looked up from where he was sitting on a camp stool in front of his tent, and what he saw sent a shock through him.

“Oh, no! It’s that blasted Charlie!” He got up and would have escaped, but she called out, “Hello, Drake!” and reluctantly he returned to his place.

Charlie was still wearing her overalls, albeit she was sporting a pair of new low-heeled boots that looked much better than the heavy shoes she had first worn. She came marching across the parade ground, catching the eye of most of the soldiers who were off duty.

Drake took a desperate look around and saw them grinning and nudging one another with their elbows. Somehow the story had gotten out about
how this girl wanted to buy herself a husband. Drake had accused Royal of spreading the tale, but Royal steadfastly denied it. Actually it turned out that Charlie herself let it slip to Walter Beddows, who could never keep a good story. Now Walter and the others began ambling toward where Charlie stood in front of Drake.

“I came to see you, Drake,” she said brightly. She was wearing a new straw hat with a ribbon on top. She wore a new shirt under her overalls too. A bright red one.

Drake nodded shortly. “Hello, Charlie.” He sought desperately for some way to escape but could think of nothing.

Charlie started talking about a fishing trip that she had just made. “I caught seven bullhead cats,” she said, “and I’m going to cook ’em up for supper. I came to invite you, Drake.”

“I can’t leave camp,” he said

“Oh, why not?”

“Because he’s been a bad boy.”

The voice came from behind Charlie, and she turned to see Walter Beddows, who was grinning broadly. Walter loved fun. He came closer and winked at the others. “None of the rest of us galoots have been lucky enough to capture a prisoner like you, Miss Charlie,” he said. “Tell me now. Are there any more that I might go out and capture?”

Charlie looked at Drake uncertainly, clearly not understanding the joke. “I don’t guess so,” she said finally. “I was lucky he didn’t shoot me. His gun didn’t go off.”

A laugh went around, and Walter said, “You mean you actually tried to pull down on this pretty
girl? Why, Drake Bedford, I’m plumb ashamed of you!”

“Shut up, Walter!” Drake said. He suddenly saw Royal approaching and was sure the sergeant was on his way to Lori’s house. He exploded. “Get out of here, girl! Go back home!”

A hurt look came into Charlie’s eyes, and she lowered her head. “I just came to invite you—”

“You’re always pestering me! I don’t want you hangin’ around me anymore! No man likes a woman chasin’ after him. Now, get out of here and leave me alone!”

An angry murmur went around the small group of soldiers, but Drake didn’t care. Well, he did care—he hated to hurt the girl’s feelings—but he had had all he could take. Then he saw that she was watching him with tears in her eyes, and he opened his mouth to apologize.

But at that moment Rosie came up and put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Come along, Charlie,” he said.

BOOK: Fire Over Atlanta
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