There was a rustling around the room. Most of the men present had heard Montgomery’s comments last night as the man was polishing off another bottle of redeye whiskey. He had seen the lady up at the main house and wanted her for himself. His words had been harsh. "Who was this damned Colonel to move in, take over their Pennsylvania Regiment? It is bad enough that the man is a prude, but to embarrass me in front of the damned Southern whore is unforgivable. I will have the woman, and a Bucks County man for the regiment or I am gone from here."
"I see. None of you are willing to tell me? Is it because he is one of your own and I am the stranger imposed on you by the War Office? Or is there something else I should know?"
At that moment, Montgomery’s Lieutenant came bursting into the tent. "Excuse me, Colonel, but the medic is needed." Charlie nodded to his chief medic. Albert Samuelson was not officially enlisted but instead was part of the Surgeon General’s medical forces. Because of his quasi-military status, he was afforded the honors of a junior officer.
"For whom is the medic required, Lieutenant?"
"Major Montgomery, sir. His horse went down under him, sir. I am afraid it is pretty bad."
"We will talk of this later. Get your Major taken care of now. I will be along in a bit."
As the medic and the young lieutenant left, Charlie turned to the other officers in the room. "So, will you tell me now?"
The senior officer from the original Pennsylvania troops, Major Swallow, cleared his throat. "Well, Sir. Montgomery’s not been right since The Wilderness. He lost almost all of his forces in one day –– men he had grown up with, friends and family. He used to be a gentle man. But since then, his hatred of southerners has obsessed him. To him, the women are whores, the men are bastards. He has had a problem with you from the beginning ‘‘cause he thinks that you are a southerner from your accent. Then you defended the lady up at the house. That was sort of the last straw for him. He was in his cups last night, and then up early this morning to take his company out."
Charlie listened without comment, and with a perfectly blank, neutral face. "Thank you, Swallow. Do any of the rest of you share Major Montgomery’s concerns or attitude?" Charlie stood and walked the room, looking into the eyes of each man there.
"Do any of you question my commitment to the Union, which I swore to uphold when I took my oath 19 years ago and have reaffirmed every four years since then? Do you think that because I have the accent of a South Carolinian, my love of this nation is any less than yours?" Charlie’s voice was deceptively gentle. The questions were asked as if he were genuinely puzzled and trying to figure out the situation. The barbs were buried deep.
He paced the room, stopping to look in each man’s eyes, an open look of questioning on his face. Ruminatively, he continued, "You know, I signed on in Philadelphia in 1845, and faced the blood and rain and sweat and fear of Buena Vista in ‘‘47." He moved to the next man.
"There were 4,700 of us. Santa Ana had over 20,000 men. Still, we won." As she looked into Major Andrews’ eyes, he flinched at those odds.
He moved on. "From there, I worked my way up in the Army, one step at a time. When we stood in mud for weeks in front of Vicksburg, where I was born did not matter."
Charlie watched as several heads dropped, each man had his eyes focused on the table before them.
"When I first met with you in hospital and reserves in Maryland after the Wilderness, you seemed to welcome the fact that we wanted to keep the 13th intact and fill your ranks with experienced troops, rather than disband your regiment. Where I was born did not matter then."
The Colonel paused for a moment and swallowed before continuing.
"When we stood with General Sheridan at Cedar Creek, it did not matter. When your guts seized up because you were drinking bad water, and I saw to it that you were all cared for, it did not matter. When our own turned on us at Brandy Station, where I was born did not matter. So if you have a problem with me now, tell me."
Charlie had completed his circuit of the mess, and stood behind his seat at the table. A long silence gripped the room, as these men, who had been through hell and back recognized that their new Colonel had seen things and done things as horrific as they had in the name of the Union. An embarrassed rustling and surreptitious eye contact among some of the senior officers was all Charlie needed to see. In a much gentler voice, he released them from their discomfort.
"Gentlemen. Shall we assume this conversation never happened, and was never needed? Now, we all have much to do. For your information, I am off to see what I can do about securing us at least decent winter quarters. I plan to check on Montgomery before I go."
Charlie walked out of the mess tent, stopping to have a word with one or two of his officers as he went. If Montgomery had let his obsession get out of hand with the troops, Charlie needed his commanders to find it and dig it out before it created irreparable rifts in his organization. In the spring campaign ahead, these men would have to work together as a well-oiled machine. It was time to start making sure there were no broken cogs in the workings.
He hurried over to the infirmary, where the medic was working feverishly over Montgomery. The damned fool had ridden out on an unordered scouting trip while he was still drunk. His batman was there, looking grim and disapproving. His lieutenant was looking sickened.
Charlie caught the medic’s eye and got a neutral shrug in response to his unspoken question. Montgomery’s condition was questionable at best.
The lieutenant was fading. He was sweating and a sickly shade of nauseous green. Charlie took the young man outside of the infirmary tent. "Tell me what happened."
"Major Monty was…… I do not know. He was not right. He drove us all at a hard pace this morning, like he was looking for something or someone." The lad stopped to gulp at the water that Charlie offered him from the small cistern beside the door. "There was a fence that he drove his horse to –– it was not a coop, it was a hard fence –– stone base and rails. The horse –– that big buckskin gelding that the Major rode as a backup –– you know the horse, Sir, I have seen you ride him –– anyway, the horse refused. He turned him and tried again. The horse refused again –– and the second time, he threw Major Monty."
That glazed look came over the boy’s face again. His voice came out as a dull monotone as he spoke. "Major Monty grabbed the reins and hauled the horses head around, then took his crop to the horse –– from the ground. He cut him –– all around the head and neck. Cut him hard with the crop. Finally, the horse reared up and pulled the Major up with him. He fell back, and the horse kicked out. I could not see exactly what happened next, but they both went down, with the horse on top. When I cleared the horse, the Major was in terrible shape. The horse was in worse. He had a broken leg and one eye was gone. I had to put him down." The boy dissolved in tears.
Swallow came up just then, and took the lad under his wing. The boy was Swallow’s younger cousin. Charlie surrendered the lad to him gratefully.
It was time for Charlie to go and attend to Rebecca. He took a deep breath. The short time it would take him to walk to the main house was a welcome respite. He needed the time to think. He needed the time to prepare for the afternoon. Cleaning up the mess that Montgomery created would have to wait until he had settled the Regiment for the winter.
Chapter 4
Sunday, November 6, 1864
C
harlie straightened his uniform and brushed off the dust from his coat and trousers as he walked up to the house. The next few hours would be critical, he thought. Perhaps Miss Rebecca would make her decision.
As he got closer to the house, he remembered the duty that lay immediately before him, to serve as Miss Rebecca’s personal maid. The thought of her standing before him in just her chemise and slip was enough to make his hands sweat.
Manfully, he strode to the front door, and was, as usual, greeted by one of his own troopers.
I have to do something about that
, he thought to himself.
She deserves to have some help around here that is hers, not one of my boys doing double duty.
"Miss Rebecca’s upstairs, sir. She asked me to ask you to join her in her sitting room."
"Thank you, soldier."
Sitting room? Oh, yes, the small anteroom next to her bedroom
.
Charlie walked up the stairs, feeling stoic under the circumstances. To touch her bare skin, just to touch her and find out if her skin was as soft and velvety as it looked in that pink dress. The idea was making Charlie slightly crazy.
He entered the sitting room and closed the door behind him, then moved on to the door to the bedroom. Softly, he rapped at the door.
"Come in, my elegant sir." Rebecca’s voice was filled with laughter. The prospect of the ride had made her bright with anticipation.
Opening the door just enough to let him pass, Charlie slipped into the room. The vision before him stopped him cold for a moment.
She was standing in the sunlight from the western windows. In the light, her golden hair, pinned up for riding, formed a halo around her head. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders had a soft glow, and was set off by the simple white chemise and slip she wore. Charlie’s mouth went dry; his throat seized up and breathing was, for a long moment, not an option.
"Oh, Colonel, I am so excited. It is been so long since I have been able to ride. Please, give me a hand here and we can be on our way."
Charlie nodded, dumbly.
The habit was laid out on the bed. It was a lovely green velvet, with a tight bodice that buttoned up the back with a full skirt. Charlie sorted out the skirt, then knelt and held it for Rebecca to step into. Her hand on his shoulder, she stepped into the pool of velvet. He could feel the warmth of her touch through his woolen coat. That was hard enough, but with her body so close to his, he could smell her. Her body exuded a unique blend of lilacs and musk.
Charlie stood, drawing her skirt up over her hips and tying the strings that held it around her slim waist. His fingers trembled, making it hard to hold the bow tight.
Rebecca stepped away, and drew the jacket onto her arms, settling the fabric over her shoulders. She stood there, waiting for Charlie to button what looked to be about a hundred tiny buttons that would draw the fabric snuggly around her slender frame. She looked over her shoulder at him. "Well?"
"Uh, yes. Sorry. You are lovely in green, my dear lady."
You are lovely in anything. Your shoulders glow in the sunlight. Your hair is like spun gold. I would lay my lips on your neck and think I was in heaven.
Charlie shook himself out of the haze of desire that assailed him at the sight of her and began the slow process of buttoning the garment.
The waist was tight, but that was not too difficult. The cotton chemise was there as a slight buffer between Charlie’s trembling fingers and Rebecca’s warm skin. As he moved up her straight, strong back, the chemise ended, and he brushed his fingers against her skin, feeling the heat of her body, the silk of her as he continued to fasten the small buttons. By the time he finished the last button on the high collar, he was sweating and trembling.
They stood there for a moment, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. She turned her head and softly brushed her lips over his fingers. "Thank you. You make the best ladies maid I have ever had."
Charlie stood there, unable to move for a moment. From somewhere in the distance, they heard the neighing of a horse.
"Come on, Colonel Redmond. The horses await us."
Charlie shook himself and stepped forward to take Rebecca’s hand and escort her downstairs and to the horses.
--*--
"Oh, my. She is beautiful!" Rebecca went to the solid mount that was obviously prepared for her. In the afternoon sun, Shannon’s coat looked almost golden, and her mane and tail was a soft buff blonde, lighter than her coat. She was a good-sized horse, built like a warm blood but with the gentle eye of a saddle bred. And at over sixteen hands, Rebecca’s head did not top the gentle beast’s withers.
Rebecca stood waiting expectantly for Charlie to lift her into the saddle. He took a deep breath to steady himself and laid his hands gently around her slim waist. She set one hand on the saddle, the other on Charlie’s shoulder. "Ready?" She nodded and with that, he lifted her gracefully into the saddle.
She settled herself in and flicked her skirt to adjust it to lie comfortably.
Charlie stepped away and ducked under his own mount’s neck. In the moment when he was hidden from her gaze, he pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his sweating forehead and upper lip. The heat that consumed his body was not from the weather –– that was cool and crisp. The woman beside him, on the other hand……
Rebecca took a moment to put on well-worn riding gloves. "Come on, Colonel. Let me show you my land. It is the most beautiful place in the world, I do believe."
"Well, then, Miss Rebecca, which way would you like to go?"
"That is entirely up to you, Colonel. I am at your leisure."
Then, ma'am shall we make a circuit? I have seen the northern and eastern parts of your property, but I am sure there is more." Charlie nudged his horse into an easy walk down the carriageway. Rebecca joined him and they rode down the carriageway to the road knee to knee, chatting as their horses walked along companionably.
"There is much more. I am sure you will find all kinds of things that will interest you."
"I am sure I will. I have lived with horses for many years, ma'am. From what I have seen, this is the most beautiful horse country I have ever been in."
"Well, as I said before, sir. I have never been out of Virginia, but I cannot imagine a more beautiful place."