The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (43 page)

“And you want to fight again?”

Hobbs frowned as his gaze shifted away.  “
Want
to fight?  I don’t reckon there’s a soldier left on either side that
wants
to fight.”  He stared at her, his eyes intense.  “But there are people here I care about.  You’re one of them, Miss Carrie.  I’ll do whatever I can to keep the Yankees from taking Richmond.”

Carrie stared at him, knowing it was useless to argue.  But still…  “You know the South will lose, don’t you?”

Hobbs’ eyes flamed, and he opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it without a word.  Long moments passed before he slowly nodded.  “Me and Robert talked about it.”

“But still you feel you have no choice?”

“Choice?  You done taught me I always have a choice, Miss Carrie.  I’ve  decided going back to join Lee is the only choice I can live with.  Once I decided that, I was able to accept that I could live with whatever consequences come with it.”

Carrie took a deep breath and walked over to give him a warm hug.  “I’ll miss you.”

“You reckon you’ll be all right?” Hobbs asked anxiously.  “Me and Robert talked about how you would stay safe going down to the black hospital if I’m not with you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Carrie said instantly.  “I have my gun that I’ve become quite good at using; plus Janie and I can always get Jeremy or Clifford to join us.  There have been no threats in many months.  It’s so cold now that I doubt anyone will venture out to bother us.”

Hobbs heaved a sigh of relief.  “That’s what me and Robert figured.”

Carrie smiled tenderly, thankful for the concern, even though every man in her life knew she would go ahead and do whatever she felt needed doing when the time arose.  She appreciated their effort to care for her in a way that wouldn’t challenge her independence.  “Hobbs, I’m much more concerned for you than for myself.”

“Aw shucks, ain’t nothing going to happen to me,” he insisted, his brown eyes gazing at her from under his long rusty hair. 

Carrie said nothing.  Both of them knew anything could happen. He already had one wounded leg that would never be the same.  She couldn’t stand the idea of anything else happening to him, but she knew she had no ability to change the situation.  “Will you be in Robert’s unit?” she asked suddenly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a wide grin.  “Me and the captain will be fighting together again.  I figure that’s a good sign.”

“I thought you said you were going back to do anything – even cooking,” Carrie said suspiciously, and then narrowed her eyes when Hobbs flushed and looked down.  “You’re going back to fight, but you were trying to protect me from knowing,” she said flatly.

Hobbs flushed brightly, but looked up and met her eyes.  “You’ve had a powerful lot of worrying to do,” he admitted.  “I didn’t want to add to it.”

“Oh, Hobbs,” Carrie cried.  “I’ll worry the same whether you’re fighting or cooking.  You forget that I care for soldiers every day who have lost limbs because a shell landed on their cooking tent.  You’re not safe anywhere!”  Then her voice softened.  “I know you believe you have to do this.  I’ll continue to pray for you every day.”

She decided to change the subject.  “What will you do when the war is over?”

Hobbs relaxed as his eyes took on a shine.  “I’m going home, Miss Carrie.  I’m hoping my coon hound, Jasper, is still alive.  I dream of heading up into the mountains on hunting trips.  Just me and Jasper.”

Carrie watched his eyes come to life and hoped with all her heart Hobbs would get his wish.  After almost four years of war, he was still just a teenager.  He could never reclaim his childhood, but perhaps he could heal from all he had experienced and create a new life.  “That sounds wonderful,” she said softly.

They both looked up as wagons rolled up to the house where they were working.  Each grabbed the boxes of food they had packed and carried them out into the cold morning and then came back for more. 

When the wagons were full, Carrie watched as they rolled into the distance, hoping every soldier would receive something so that they knew the people of Richmond appreciated what they were doing, and knew how much they were suffering. 

Hobbs read her mind.  “The fellas will be right thankful,” he said quietly. 

“It’s so little,” Carrie replied regretfully, “but I know we did the best we could.”  She looked over at Hobbs.  “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” he said steadily.  “I decided to stay to help with the food, but I’ll be reporting tomorrow.”

Carrie nodded heavily and reached over to squeeze his hand. “You and Robert take care of each other.”

Carrie stood silently for long minutes after Hobbs went to get their carriage, her breath creating white clouds, but feeling quite warm in her snug coat and scarf.  She wanted to cry when she gazed at the hungry, pinch-faced children plodding through the icy winds gripping small pieces of wood to try to help warm their homes. 

1865 had blown in with frigid air, bringing even more misery to the besieged residents of Richmond.  People were starving and freezing everywhere – not only in Richmond but also in Georgia, in the Shenandoah Valley, in the Carolinas, and in every place the war had touched.  But Richmond had seen the majority of the relentless attempts to break the South.  Somehow, the city’s citizens had managed to hang on, but expressions on every face said they didn’t believe they could hold out much longer.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Louisa hummed quietly as she mixed oatmeal in her big black kettle over the simmering fire.  Snow was piling up outside, but the cabin was toasty and warm.  Perry was outside tending to the livestock he had hidden from the Union army.  A large swath of Georgia was a burned wasteland, but Louisa and her husband were still alive, and somehow they would carry on.

She looked outside, glad to see the burned foundation of their cotton gin building completely obscured by mounds of deep snow.  She hoped the snow’s blanket would help erase the pain from Perry’s mind.  He had cut numerous trees to begin to rebuild the barn in the spring, but there was no way to know when Perry might be able to replace the cotton gin. 

He had already built another barn for their animals, working quickly with the help of neighbors who had arrived the day after the destruction.  It was not as grand as the one that had burned, but it sheltered their cows and horses, and the chicken coop he had rebuilt was filling up again with fowl that produced plenty of eggs. 

Louisa sighed with contentment and smiled when her baby kicked her forcefully.  “Eager to get out of there, aren’t you, little one?” she murmured, patting her extended belly.  She knew the baby should come any day now.  The crib was ready.   Polly, their midwife neighbor, had prepared them well. 

Louisa yearned to hold her child close, to feel the evidence that life was indeed continuing on, no matter how many terrible things had happened.  She watched as Perry emerged from the barn, his breath coming in puffy white mists.  He struggled to get through the snow with his peg leg, but he had insisted on doing it himself, and he was learning how to manage. 

“Oh my!” Louisa gasped as she doubled over with a sudden, sharp pain, and then her eyes widened as warm liquid pooled between her legs.  As the pain eased, a smile exploded onto her face.  She made her way quickly to the cabin door and pulled it open.  “Perry!”

He appeared at the foot of the porch almost instantly, took one look at her face, and knew.  “It’s time?”

Louisa nodded.  “It’s time,” she agreed.  “You’d better go get Polly.”

“And leave you here alone?”

Louisa smiled at his alarmed face.  “We talked about this.  There should be plenty of time for you to get Polly and come back,” she said calmly and then reached out to grab his hand.  “I’d appreciate it, though, if you did it quickly.  I’d rather have you with me.”

“I’ll have her here fast!”  Perry climbed onto the porch, gave her a quick kiss, and then fought his way back to the barn through the snow. 

Louisa watched from the window until the horses took off down the snowy road at a rapid trot, and then she turned back into the kitchen.  She doubled over when another spasm tore through her body and decided sitting would be a better option.  After the pain passed, she carefully pulled the kettle off the fire, stoked the flames with pieces of split wood to keep the house warm, and then settled down into her rocker and pulled her quilt tightly, all the while singing softly to herself. 

Louisa was determined to not be afraid.  They had been through so much already; surely the birth of a new baby was not something to panic over.  Mothers birthed new life every day.  She had calm confidence that after all they had been through their baby’s birth was going to be easy and smooth.

The fire sputtered and crackled as she allowed her thoughts to travel back to Blackwell Plantation.  She imagined giving birth in the sumptuous room she had grown up in, surrounded by slaves eager to do her bidding.  As she stared around the simple cabin and felt its quiet solitude, she discovered she would much rather have it this way.

She smiled happily as she continued to stroke her belly.  “Baby, you’re about to enter into a world of love.”  Louisa frowned as she thought of the war raging through the country.  “Oh, the country does not feel a lot of love right now, but your mama and daddy will love you with all their hearts.  This crazy war will end, and you will have this home with your daddy and me, little one.” 

Praying she was speaking the truth, she stared out at the deepening snow and fought to remain calm as another spasm, stronger than all the others, stole her breath.  “One of these days I’ll tell you how you were born in a fierce Georgia snowstorm that kept your daddy from coming right back with the midwife.  I’ll tell you how it was just you and me; with my knowing I would go through anything to hold you in my arms.” 

Louisa fought harder to remain calm as the spasms came faster and stronger -  like the snow creating a white curtain outside the window.  She could imagine Perry’s panic about leaving her alone for so long.  She had to face the possibility snow might have made roads impassable and that she was on her own.

“Well, little one, what will we do if your daddy doesn’t make it back in time?”  She managed to keep her voice calm, and reasoned that if she didn’t impart fear to her baby that everything would be easier.  She didn’t know if it mattered, but fighting to remain calm was better than giving in to absolute panic, which was exactly what her mind was screaming to do.

Louisa stood unsteadily, realizing that if Perry didn’t make it back in time, she would be much better off in bed.  She staggered across the room, holding on to the wall, and then collapsed onto their bed, realizing too late she should have put strips of cloth on to boil, though what she would do with them, even if she could reach them, she had no idea.

“Oh!”  This time she couldn’t hold back her scream of pain as a spasm ripped through her.  “Perry…,” she whispered as the door burst open.

“Louisa!”  Perry cried, rushing to her side.  “A tree was down over the road…”

“You can tell her the story later,” Polly said, her voice a study of calm and competence.  “I told you what I would need.  I suggest you get it.” 

Perry sprang to follow the midwife’s instructions; stoked the fire into roaring flames, and poured water into a kettle that he hung over the fire.

Louisa turned her face to the warmth radiating through the cabin and felt her fear ebb away.  Everything would be okay now.

Polly smiled down gently at Louisa.  “Sorry you had to be on your own for so long,” she said easily.  “Let’s take a look.”

Relieved beyond description that she wouldn’t have to have their baby on her own, Louisa took several deep breaths.  “I do believe this little one is about ready.”

Polly looked up moments later.  “I do believe you’re right,” she said, only her eyes showing anxiety.  “I reckon we got here in time.”

“Polly? What can I do?”

Polly turned to Perry.  “Give me those rags and blankets, and go settle down in the corner.  Usually I would send you outside, but I believe you’ve had enough time out in that snow.” 

Polly kept up a steady stream of soothing conversation, her hands moving quickly as she positioned Louisa.

Louisa had no idea what Polly was saying because she was lost in a haze of unrelenting pain, but the sound of her voice gave Louisa something to anchor herself with.  “Oh…!” she gasped, as a contraction harder than any yet, seemed to almost rip her in half.

“It’s time,” Polly said.  “When I tell you to, I want you to push harder than you ever have in your life, Louisa.”  She waited a few seconds and then said, “Now!”

Louisa screamed, pushed until she was sure she would pass out, and then fell back against the pillows, limp with exhaustion and vaguely aware of Perry’s horrified face.  She was also aware of an immediate relief.