The Lady and the Officer (7 page)

James peered around, looking for anything that would indicate danger. But he could see nothing until the moon broke free from the clouds. Then a burned-out shell of a building appeared before them on a narrow lot. “I gather that is what's left of the preacher's church.”

“The First Reformed Church and Cashtown school are no more.” She crossed her arms and shivered. “Stray shells hit both buildings, the same as my home.”

Silently, they watched a curl of smoke trail toward the clouds. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Howard. Your townspeople suffered much through no fault of their own.”

She turned her back on the wreckage. “The minister and his wife will leave soon for Gettysburg. There's nothing for them here. They'll live at the Lutheran parsonage and assist with the wounded.”

“Will you join them? Perhaps yesterday's reading may serve you after all.”

She shook her head. “Only one room is available at the parsonage. I can't inconvenience the Lutherans or the Bennetts more than I already have. Besides, considering my queasiness with seeing your wound, I doubt I would make a good nurse.”

“If I could… if you would allow it… ” He struggled for the proper words, while his one opportunity was about to slip away.

Mrs. Howard turned her face toward him. “State your mind, General. We must return soon so Reverend Bennett doesn't worry.”

“I wondered if I might write to you once you're settled. And may I hope for an occasional letter in return?” He blurted out the two sentences in quick succession.

“Yes, I would like that, but I'm not sure what I'll say with little to keep me busy.” She began walking briskly in the direction they had come.

“The weather, the local harvest, perhaps an interesting tidbit you heard from a neighbor—I would relish any news from you.”

Laughing, she cocked her head to one side. “At the very least, my letters will make for a good sleeping tonic, considering your worrisome career.”

James tried to think of a witty retort or a way to express his delight, but one banality after another came to mind. They reached the preacher's front yard without exchanging another word. Then fate looked kindly on the hapless officer.

“General Downing,” Reverend Bennett called from the porch. “If your troops aren't leaving town at daybreak, please come to supper tomorrow night. You may also bring your staff. We have food to cook and eat that won't travel well.” The minister beamed at Mrs. Howard and then at him.

James spoke without a moment's hesitation. “Yes, I accept. Thank you.”

Climbing the steps, she angled a smile over her shoulder. “Before tomorrow night, I'll assess the weather, observe the harvest, and eavesdrop on the neighbors. I shall be ready for you, sir.” She entered the house and let the screen door slam behind her.

James was left speechless in Cashtown once again.

Madeline awoke with an odd sense of confusion for the third morning in a row. She glanced around the austere furnishings of the Bennett guest room trying to regain her bearings. The memory of her home burning to the ground returned with a bit less pain than the previous two days.

When God closes one door, He opens another.

She wondered about her mother's favorite saying in light of her recent acquaintance with General Downing. Would
he
be her newly opened door? How could he be? The Union Army would only be in Pennsylvania as long as Confederate troops remained on Northern soil. Then the general and his corps would undoubtedly go to where the war took them, while she remained in Adams County where she'd lived her entire life.

But where exactly would she live? Certainly not in her cobwebby, mice-infested barn. And she couldn't live here when the Bennetts moved to Gettysburg. Not for the first time in life Madeline yearned for brothers and sisters. A large family provided a place to go when disaster struck, or at least someone to lend a sympathetic ear with well-intentioned advice. Her parents' untimely deaths had left her bereft of close relatives. Madeline thought back to happy childhood summers when her mother took her to visit her sister in Virginia. How she'd enjoyed playing hide-and-seek with her younger cousin, Eugenia. But angry words between the two brothers-in-law had put an end to their yearly visit.

Shaking off pointless reminiscences, Madeline washed, dressed, and headed downstairs to be useful. After all, with any luck she would see General Downing again tonight.

“Good morning, my dear.” Mrs. Bennett's smile couldn't get any brighter. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a lamb. What can I help you with, ma'am?”

“There will be plenty of time for work. Sit. Try my cornbread and tell me your plans,” Mrs. Bennett said invitingly as she filled two porcelain cups with coffee.

Madeline laughed with little humor. “I was just pondering my limited options while getting dressed.”

Mrs. Bennett set a plate of cornbread in front of her along with her coffee. “Don't think you wouldn't be welcome with us. Every able pair of
hands can be put to good use at the hospital. Mr. Bennett has already ridden there to work, but he'll return in time for supper.”

“When will you join him in Gettysburg?” Madeline asked as she slathered her bread with warm butter.

“Day after the morrow. But he'll seek permanent accommodations for us and apply for a position at the seminary. Cashtown residents won't have money to rebuild their church for many years. You may live with us once we find a house.”

Madeline knew this poor woman in a faded dress with one cloak to her name didn't need another mouth to feed. “You are so kind, ma'am, but I decided to write to my favorite aunt. I've always been fond of her and she of me. I know that under the circumstances she will insist I make my home with them.”

“
Your aunt?
”
Mrs. Bennett sounded skeptical. “You haven't spoken of her in many years.”

“Aunt Clarisa and Uncle John live in Richmond.”

Mrs. Bennett's disbelief changed to shock. “Richmond is the capital of the Confederacy! You would be moving to the heart of Dixie.”

Madeline cut another piece of cornbread with her fork. “Hardly the geographic heart, ma'am, considering Richmond is a scant hundred miles from Washington.”

The older woman clucked her tongue. “The number of miles makes little difference.” Suddenly, she gripped the table as though dizzy. “Your uncle isn't a slave owner, is he? That is such ghastly business.”

Madeline considered fibbing but dismissed the notion. A person shouldn't lie to the wife of her preacher. “If my memory serves, the Duncans own a few slaves who work in the house. But they live in town, not on a plantation. My uncle makes his living as some sort of treasurer.”

“Slavery is slavery. It's an abomination.”

After an uncomfortable moment, Madeline replied in a soft voice. “Then we must both pray for a swift resolution of the war and slavery's abolishment. But their lifestyle doesn't alter my current circumstances.”

“Amen!” Mrs. Bennett rose to her feet to refill their coffee cups. Changing the subject, she asked, “Are you eager to see General Downing
this evening? I thought we could serve fried chicken, succotash, fresh corn, and cucumbers. What say you?”

“That sounds delicious, but I thought we were using leftovers that won't travel or keep well.”

Mrs. Bennett
tsk'ed
rather primly. “We can't serve dried bread, deer jerky, and two-year-old preserves when a general and his staff come to call, especially not considering… ” The rest of her sentence hung in the air like laundry on the line.

Madeline nearly choked on her food. “Considering what, exactly?”

Mrs. Bennett picked up her empty plate and bustled to the sink. “Considering the fact the gentleman checked on your welfare two days in a row and then made a third trip here last night. Surely you don't believe that's ordinary behavior for a military man.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Scores of people have been uprooted and rendered homeless after a battle. An officer keeps his focus on the task at hand, unless… ”

“Unless what?” Madeline's back stiffened at the suggestion of impropriety.

“I mean no offense, my dear, but I think the man is sweet on you. And I saw
your
eyes glow like stars when he arrived. Beggin' your pardon, of course.”

She shook her head. “Nobody courts during wartime.”

“Quite the contrary. Many a young man proposes on the eve of his enlistment and then marries the gal the next time he's home.”

Madeline stood and went to the sink. She began washing the dishes for something to do. How could she balk at Mrs. Bennett's conjectures when James Downing had crossed her mind no less than a dozen times? “We'll just see if he drops to one knee and pledges his undying love after dessert.”

“He might if you play your cards right.”

“Mrs. Bennett! Our sect doesn't allow card playing, as you well know. Your husband would be aghast to hear you say that.”

“You know very well what I mean,” she said with a wink.

A few minutes later, Madeline left the room to get her laundry. She planned to stay busy helping Mrs. Bennett prepare for the move, and also to keep her mind from fixating on the woman's preposterous ideas.

That evening Reverend Bennett was pacing the front hallway, anxious for his supper, while his wife paced the kitchen, hoping her chicken wouldn't dry out in the oven. Madeline rearranged a vase of wildflowers for the third time.

“Why don't we feed your poor husband?” she asked Mrs. Bennett. “He must be famished.”

“Let's give our guests another fifteen minutes. A corps commander has plenty of responsibility.”

Madeline opened her mouth to protest when the sound of hooves cut her short. She nervously patted down her hair and wiped a drop of sweat from her lip.

The minister greeted the officers at the front door, ushering them into the parlor amid a flurry of handshaking and introductions. Madeline stuck to the wall like new wallpaper. General Downing had brought two lieutenants along with the insufferable Major Henry.

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard,” the general said. “I apologize for our tardiness.” He removed his hat and closed the distance between them. “We received last-minute dispatches that required our attention.”

“Think nothing of it. I'm… we're pleased you were able to join us.”

“Shall we be seated?” Mrs. Bennett said as she bustled past with the platter of chicken. “I know you gentlemen must be hungry.”

General Downing offered his elbow for the short walk to the dining room. When Madeline took his arm, the officers nodded respectfully as she walked by. All except for Major Henry.

“Mrs. Howard, you sit there, between the lieutenants—a rose between thorns.” Mrs. Bennett pointed at the opposite chair. “General Downing can sit here, across from you and next to me. The major and my husband will take the foot and head and shall be in charge of passing bowls.” She hurried out for the rest of the meal.

When Madeline followed her to help, Mrs. Bennett ordered her back to the dining room. With five pairs of eyes on her, she sat down at the table feeling like a child. She noticed the table had been set with the Bennetts' finest china and an Irish handmade cloth. The lace had been repaired several times, but in the flickering candlelight the room looked lovely.

“Don't be shy, boys,” said Reverend Bennett. “Let's start on these biscuits.” He took one for himself and handed the basket to his left.

Madeline spent the next few minutes buttering every nook and cranny of her biscuit, not daring to meet the general's eye. When Mrs. Bennett returned with a tray of side dishes, the conversation turned to compliments about the fare as bowls changed hands and plates were filled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bennett, for your hospitality,” said General Downing. “It's been a long time since we dined at such a bounteous table.”

“Hear, hear,” chimed two of the soldiers.

Mrs. Bennett blushed like a schoolgirl with the praise. “It's our duty and pleasure to feed our soldiers in blue.”