The Man from Shenandoah Read online

  “We’re just fixing to eat,” Julia called. She turned and saw the water buckets. “Thank you, son. You saved me a trip.”

  Carl pulled up a chair to the table and joined Rod and Albert.

  “It ain’t much, Carl, but it’ll keep you from blowing away.” Julia waved her hand toward the food. “We’re lucky to have greens. They popped up down by the crick, and I picked them late this afternoon. ‘Course, there’s corn pone, and we have milk, but there ain’t no real coffee, just roasted chicory.” She sighed as she sat at her place. “We’ll have real food again once we get a crop up.”

  “That’s something we need to do some talking about,” Rod declared. “First, let’s give thanks for Carl’s safe return, and for this food we got.”

  At the end of the grace, Carl glanced across the table at his father. There’d been something in his voice that foretold serious business. Rod must have felt his stare, for he looked up, his beard wrinkling as he chewed.

  Rod swallowed. “Tell me how it looks south of here, son. What did Sheridan leave for the folks in the south end of the Valley? You came from Staunton, I reckon?” Rod took a bite of greens.

  “He burnt or pulled down homes, barns, crops, orchards, ‘most everything, all the way to Staunton and beyond. It’s a famine time. A crow flying by would have to bring his own rations.” He paused to chew a piece of pone. “Ma, it’s a wonder to me the Yankees left our house alone when they came back through.”

  “I had my good Sharps rifle, and I set right there in the doorway and wouldn’t budge none. After a while they left me be and went out back to burn the barn.”

  “Marie could-a been killed,” Albert said, frowning. “Them dirty Yankees didn’t wait ‘til she was out of the barn to set it afire.” Albert’s eyes looked dark and fierce. “I wish I’d a been down here shooting me some Yankees instead of up in the hills with Clay and all them cows!”

  “Likely they’d have shot you, Albert,” Carl said. “Praise God you was up there!”

  Rod’s mouth tightened. “What about livestock, son? What did you see?”

  “I reckon we’ve got more cattle than any five stock men down the Valley, Pa. Maybe five pigs, thin stuff; not more’n ten hens anywhere. I reckon Grant didn’t want no more supplies coming out of the Shenandoah. He meant for little Phil Sheridan to clean us out, and he did the job.”

  “Lucky I was warned some,” Julia said, “or I wouldn’t have had time to send the boys off up the hill.”

  Rod chewed his food slowly, his face looking thoughtful. “I reckon we’re eating about as well as Rand Hilbrands. The Yankees missed burning the store in Mount Jackson, so he still has food to put on his table.”

  “What happened over to Chester Bates’ place, Pa?”

  “He lost his barn, and the house is gutted out. They burned his fields bare. The Bates family is about wiped off the face of the earth, I’d say.”

  “Are they all dead?”

  “They’ve got their lives and little else.”

  “That’s sure a pity.” Carl wiped his mouth with his hand. “They had the prettiest stone house I believe I’ve ever seen. Where are they living now?”

  “Right on the place, in the old tool shed.”

  “Hush, that’s a shame. There’s no finer man than Chester Bates, ‘cept for you and John Mosby, Pa.”

  “Andy Campbell says his pa’s so mad about his place being wrecked, he wants to clear out and go someplace else,” Albert reported.

  Rod Owen cleared his throat. “That’s just what I aim to do.”

  Chapter 2

  Rod’s words seemed to echo in the room, fading into silence. Stunned, no one moved or spoke for several seconds, then the air was split with the clamor of the family reacting to his declaration.

  Julia raised her chin a bit as she stared down the length of the table. “This has been my home since we wed.”

  “Pa, I took an oath I’d come home and wait to be exchanged proper. I don’t reckon the Yankees will let me leave.” Carl shifted in his chair, sitting up straight.

  Albert jumped to his feet. “But Pa, I was born right here in this house.”

  Rod waved away the arguments and held up his hand for silence. “I’ve decided to sell the farm and go to the Colorado Territory. You ma’s brother Jonathan is out there somewhere, and we’ll find him. There’s gold and silver to be mined, but I been contemplating.” Rod paused to lift his cup and try the chicory. He made a face, then drank some more before setting down the cup.

  “There’s no future for us here in the Valley. Since we’re going to cross the country to make a new start, why not start a cattle ranch?” Rod looked around at his family. “We have good cattle here that we can sell as beef to the miners,” he said. “There’s a sight of folks out there that like to eat. I reckon raising cattle is as good a way to earn a living as digging in the ground for metal.”

  “I took an oath, Pa.” Carl leaned forward. “I’m bound to stay here until my papers come.”

  “Carl, an Owen’s oath is sacred word, but you saw the way of things out there. Since the Yankees paid their call, if we stay here our only choice is to starve. I reckon your oath is null and void.”

  Carl slouched against the back of his chair. “Who’ll buy a burned-out farm? Nobody around here has any federal cash to give you.”

  “There was a feller here last week from New York State, looking for farmland. His brother was one of Sheridan’s torch men, and told him all about the fine crops he set fire to. Well, the man offered a good price, and I took it.”

  “But Pa,” Albert burst out, “he’s a damned Yankee!”

  “Watch your tongue, young’un. Yes, he’s a Yankee, but he has good Yankee currency and coin to give me. Now that you’re home, Carl, I aim to leave in two weeks.”

  “Two weeks!” Julia echoed. “We can’t be ready by then.”

  “How long did it take you to send the boys off up the mountain with the corn?”

  Julia stared at her plate.

  “We’ll be ready in two weeks, because Mr. Avery will take possession then. He’ll be back from Washington next week with the money, then he’s off to get his family to move them here.” Rod slapped the table and stood up.

  “You really sold the place?” Julia got to her feet. “You never thought to ask me?”

  “We’re bound for Colorado. That’s all.” His words were sharp, final.

  Julia reached down for her plate and turned her back in silence.

  ~~~

  Rod climbed into bed. Julia turned away from him.

  “Still mad at me?” Disappointed, he reached out to touch her shoulder. She shrugged off his hand.

  “I got a right.”

  “I figured you’d want to leave this place.”

  “I defended the house. I saved it, and I aimed to live in it.” She turned over to glare at him.

  “You need a change. This war has took your spirit, along with your boys, Julie. I figured you’d want to go.”

  “There ain’t nothing wrong with my spirit, Rod Owen. I’ve plenty left to tell you what I think. It’s a low-down, slimy, snake trick to take a gal’s home away from her, without even a by-your-leave.”

  Rod pushed himself up with his elbows and stared at Julia. “You’ve changed a right smart whilst I was gone.”

  “I’ve had to fend for myself and the young’uns, Rod. I got so I was the boss around the place. I did my chores and yours, too. Now you come home and sell my place without considering my side of the matter. Yes, I’ve changed a right smart, and I’m mad at you.” Julia turned away and hit the wall with her small, work-worn fist.

  Rod sank back into the featherbed and let the air leave his lungs in one fast exhalation. When he spoke again, his voice was contemplative.

  “I reckon we’ve both changed. Me, I got used to having my orders obeyed without a word of question coming back at me. It was do it right now or die. My guess is we’ve lost the habit of working together like we used to.” He sc
rewed up his face and rubbed his beard with both hands. “I just hope we ain’t lost the habit of loving together,” he added, barely audible.

  “Um,” she sighed, almost a sob, and after a long silence, she turned to look at Rod.

  He put out his hand, touched her cheek, and said, “My Julie.”

  “I never got free of needing you to love me,” she whispered. “We need to learn again how to get on with one another, is all.”

  “I give you my word I’ll work hard to look after you like I used to.”

  “I don’t need looking after like I did before the war took you away. I need you to work with me and think about my feelings and thoughts before you jump into something like this.”

  “I can’t change what I did. The paper’s signed.”

  “Oh, Rod, that means we have to leave Baby John lying over yonder in the burying ground.” She clutched his forearm, then relaxed her grip to smooth the grizzled hair. “It about breaks my heart.”

  “Julie, I ain’t an unfeeling man. I know it pains you to leave him, and Peter and Benjamin, too, but this is our chance to make a new start.” Rod sat up, and the covers fell forward from his torso, exposing his long underwear. “We’ll have the cash to buy an outfit to get to Colorado Territory. I’ll try to shed my bossy ways, if you’ll forgive me, and go with a willing heart.”

  Julia looked at Rod’s back, gauging his excitement by the rapidity of his breathing. It finally returned to normal, and he sank back into the tick.

  “Twenty-five years ago I made my vow to love you and to live with you wherever you went,” she whispered. “Since you’re bound to go, I’d best keep my promise.”

  Rod turned and looked at Julia. “I love you, woman,” he sighed, gathering her into his arms.

  ~~~

  Carl woke up in his bed. I’m home, he marveled, rolling over in the quilt. He was warm under the covers, barricaded against air chilly from the night’s rain. Looking over at Albert, he saw the regular rise and fall of his brother’s chest. He’s such a young’un, Carl mused. He’s been doing all my chores for three years. It’s time I took some of ‘em back and let him sleep.

  He sat up and flicked the covers back from his bare legs. It had been a long time since he’d had a chance to get out of his pants at night. On the run with the Rangers, he had practically slept in his saddle. Carl got up and dressed quickly, yearning for a change of clothes.

  He left Albert still asleep and went downstairs to stir up the fire. As he made it blaze to life, the chill around the fireplace faded, and he put a boiler of water on the hearth to heat for washing up later.

  Carl crossed the room and got his coat before he went outdoors. From the doorway he looked at the morning sky. The clouds were thinning out, waiting for the sun to rise, and the rain had quit falling. Toward the east, the bulk of Massanutten Mountain rose up to prevent Carl from seeing the Blue Ridge Mountains, but he knew they were there, and he knew they were hazy and covered with fog on such a morning as this. He’d spent enough time dodging the Yankees, riding up into the sanctuary of the isolated gaps and hollows, that he knew the moods of the mountains.

  The yard was under water from the night’s rain, and Carl wondered how the animals would fare in the open in this weather. Then he recalled with a jolt that soon they would be used to it. There were no barns on the way to Colorado Territory.

  Carl set about feeding the animals, and with courage born of morning freshness, he decided to tackle milking Brindle by himself.

  “Cow, I been over the hill and down the river in the last few years. I ain’t going to be licked by the likes of you.”

  Brindle promptly knocked him over, sprawling him into the mud and water. He scrambled up, soaked and sputtering, and went back to work, wiping his hands on his pants.

  “I reckon I’ll milk you, so you’d just as well surrender, you crazy cow.” Carl set his jaw and grabbed a handful of teat. Brindle turned her head and rolled her eyes, unconvinced of Carl’s prowess. He went on the attack, and the cow mooed with fright.

  When he had a half-pail of milk, Carl figured he’d won the battle, and let the calf have its breakfast. He straightened his back, then probed the sore spot on his side where the cow had kicked him, but decided it was nothing to worry about.

  Carl took the milk to the house and washed up with the water he’d left heating. Checking the wood box, he found it half empty and returned to the yard for an armful. From the looks of the stack of firewood on the left edge of the clearing, James had made more than one trip to the mountain for wood. Carl pulled some logs from the center of the pile where the wood was dry, and took them into the house.

  Julia was up, tending the fire and baking bread for the day. She looked up at Carl, then down at his feet.

  “Hush, Ma, I’m sorry. I forgot to wipe ‘em. I ain’t used to living in a house, but I’ll try to keep the mud in the yard where it belongs.”

  Albert came into the room, yawning and stretching, and looked accusingly at Carl. “You left me a-sleeping. I got critters looking to be fed.”

  “You was up late, and looked like you were relishing your sleep. I took the liberty of doing your chores this morning. Set and eat.”

  “Thanks, Carl. Don’t mind if I do.” Albert sat and attacked his breakfast.

  Rod came into the room, looking pleased with himself. He carried a list of purchases to make as soon as the Yankee money passed into his hands. He sat and greeted his family.

  “Morning, Julia, boys. Fine day. Carl, you make ready to ride into town with me after breakfast. We’ll fetch back your sisters to help your ma get the foodstuffs together.” Rod paused to chew a mouthful of cornbread, then turned to his youngest son. “Albert, who did you say was willing to leave the Valley on account of his place was wrecked?”

  “That would be Andy’s pa, Angus Campbell.”

  “Pa,” Carl broke in ahead of Rod’s next speech. “How are we going to get out to Colorado? Me and my outfit blew up so much track hereabouts, I reckon the railroad’s useless.”

  “I been studying on that, son. We’ll take wagons, like those who went to Oregon in the early days, and the Mormon folk in the forties. I reckon we’ll keep off the northern trails. I can just see a Yankee farmer taking pot shots at us, calling us wild Rebs. Likely we can get through Kentucky and Missouri on the back roads and hit the Santa Fe Trail at the city of Kansas. We’ll follow it along the Arkansas River into Colorado, then turn north and strike out for Denver City to find your uncle.”

  “We’re getting a mighty late start.”

  “I know, and wagons are slow, but I figure we can haul more goods for less cost that way. I reckon we’ll need four, five months on the trail, but the weather should hold pretty fair until then.” Rod turned his head to his wife. “We’ll take that old box of Jonathan’s to him.”

  Carl’s gaze shifted from his father’s face to the leather-covered strongbox on the mantel. Uncle Jonathan brought it with him when he returned from his trip to the Territory in ‘Fifty-nine. He told his sister it was hers if they ever got word of his death. Then he went back west to his gold fields. The box had never been opened, and sat, padlocked and dusty, where he’d placed it.

  “How long since you heard from Uncle Jonathan, Ma?” asked Carl.

  “It’s been a couple of years, but mail has been real chancy with the war on.”

  “It’ll be good to see him again.” Carl rose from the table. “I’ll saddle the horses, Pa.”