A Country Divided (Closed)

(closed for plightofsabine)

Lieutenant Shepard gritted his teeth through another burn of pain up his left side, and squinted in hopes the men wouldn’t see. He pushed his foot down harder onto the stirrup so that just the stretch of it would ease the fire in his muscles, and slowly as he lifted his toe the searing feel of it would subside. Blinded by the sharpness of the spasm, it’s relief meant he once more had to correct his horse and right it down the road. In this unseasonably hot late spring day, it was all he could do to maintain his body on top of his steed, lest risk falling to the ground with a cramp.

Yet, Benjamin wasn’t about to let such pain be the source of any attention. Not on this day.

His infantry regiment was on orders to move through the area Northeast from where the day was won in Shiloh the week before. Their objective was to clear reported Rebel supporters and skirmishers from the area around a railhead. After a day’s journey without much trouble, they moved towards where a scout said a line of skirmishers were heading. The skirmishers turned out to be cavalry, cavalry that had known his regiment were coming. His men struggled by the fast moving horsemen and his regiment was torn to pieces. After a scattered retreat and regroup, Lieutenant Shepard slowly had to accept he was now leading no more than 50 men in a hostile area. While it did not take long to reach this place, what was left of the men were tired, injured, hungry, and beaten. Simple cramps in one’s leg would be laughable compared to that of the brave soldiers who remained by his side.

“Light’s fading, sir,” came a voice from behind him on ground level. “One of our scouts said he seen him a farm ahead he did. Might be a place we can camp.” Benjamin recognized it as the old grizzly man that was as much a confidant as he was a soldier. The man was a godsend, since this was Benjamin's first full commission and officer training can only teach a man of 25 years so much.

“True enough, Sergeant Kearny,” he replied trying to sound more strong than he probably looked. “But we must be ready for another ambush. Find out where this farm is at, and we will bring the men up to where the road meets it before we head straight there.

Benjamin felt the twinge in his back once more rush up his side. The cramping was likely from the long hours sitting in the saddle. He was a lean man, taller than many in his unit and that has some of the affect on him when days are long like this. His size helped with his command, as he had a boyish face he kept shaven -- something his sister told him brought out the handsomeness of his green eyes and sandy blonde hair. Yet these days heading through the Tennessee woods trying to meet up with the rest of the army even left this officer struggling to maintain the decorum of the rank.

Hand signals went out down the line ahead, and men crouched or moved of the road. Noting the concern on many of them, Lieutenant Shepard dismounted, left his horse with a private, and creeped up the ranks to see what was ahead.

Sargent Kearny was there standing at hedge before an open field. He was whispering to two of the younger boys, those he relied on for scouts. As Benjamin creeped closer, Kearny looked back and filled his superior in. “There it be, Lieutenant. The farm the boys told me about.”

Benjamin raised his field glasses and looked across the open land what looked to be the main farmhouse. He could see a candle lit in the front room, the first time he realized it had turned so dark that such a thing was needed. He spotted some movement, not clear whom or how many was inside. What he didn’t see was signs of horses for cavalry, or the ground worn down by foot traffic. Even so, the way the road moved to the house meant it was quite possible his regiment could approach, make camp, and not be spotted by passer bys. Not that he wishes for trouble when at this place, just that trouble wouldn’t seem to find them. “What do you suppose, Sargeant? Mind we be neighborly and introduce ourselves?”

He laughed at the comment, “Right, Lieutenant. Maybe we arrive just in time for pudding.”

The day was coming to an end and Grace Southern breathed a sigh of relief. Her mother, Anne, was laid up in her chambers resting from her injuries sustained in a fall. Sitting in the front room, Grace opened her white lace fan and flicked her wrist several times until the cool breeze eased some of the discomfort from the temperature. She could still feel tendrils of her blonde hair sticking to her skin as they fell from the neat bun that rested just above the nape of her neck.

Her sea blue eyes followed the old, feeble man as he lit the candles around the room. James, the footman, was a Scotsman who had made his way south to find a better life for himself. He was a merry old man. She could still see streaks of brown hair intermingled with the gray. Grace smiled. She was glad he hadn’t been taken off to war as her father and three brothers had. With the majority of the family and the hired men who tended the fields absent, it left Grace and her mother to run the tobacco farm.

Grace could smell the aroma of fresh bread and a good stew as it floated through the large, sprawling farmhouse. The family had been lucky in that the remainder of the vegetable plot and livestock had been spared from the movement of soldiers in and out of the area. It had been several days since the last wave of soldiers had made their way past and Grace prayed earnestly for the end of hostilities. Recently returned from the Athenaeum Girls’ School, it had been Grace’s hope to find a better path, maybe a station as a teacher or opening her own shoppe in one of the larger cities like Atlanta, Savannah or Charleston. At the age of 23, Grace had dreams; dreams she had to put on hold when she was called back home to care for her family.

The kindly, middle-aged housekeeper, Sadie, came around the corner. She was still wiping her hands on her apron. Grace glanced up, stilling her fan.

“Miss Grace, you need to eat something. Worrying about your mother isn’t going to help anything. She’s resting comfortably – I just checked on her,” Sadie chided her.

“I know. I just have a nagging feeling I just can’t be rid of,” Grace replied.

“It’s just the result of the long trip. You only got back the day before yesterday. You’re going to have to pace yourself. The farm isn’t going anywhere,” the woman reminded her.

Grace laughed softly. “That’s true, not like it could grow two legs like me, right?”

James interjected, “Now Miss, you father wouldn’t have sent you to school if he didn’t agree with you. You’ve got three strapping brothers who are more than capable of running this place when they get back.”

Grace conceded and threw her hands up. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. We can take care of the place until the rest return. We can do this.”

The boy came up to the accumulated staff crouched in the bushes at the edge of the farm, saluted, and gave his report in a hushed whisper. “No signs of the enemy. I checked the barn and stuck my head in the back door.”

“Now, why’d ye do that boy,” Kearny chided whispering as well, “you done got yurself caught.”

The private couldn’t have been more than 16, probably lied his way onto the standing army, but was not smart enough to lie to his superiors. “It .. it … smelt good,” he responded.

Kearny was about lay into him, but Benjamin decided to speak first. “What is for dinner, son?” He too was keeping his voice low, he ordered all of them to do so until further notice, and the troops hiding in the woods behind them kept the noise low as well.

The boy turned to his lieutenant taken aback by the officer’s question. “Bread, sir. And some meat, maybe, but definitely bread.”

Benjamin nodded, then looked to Kearney. “I’ll need four privates in good health, and a corporal. I shall approach the man of the house.”

“Excuse me language, sir, but are you fuckin’ deft?” Kearney elegantly replied. “I will not let you approach with just five men.”

Benjamin smirked, accepting the reply for it’s heartfelt. “There is no need for more if there is no hostiles. Besides, we must convince the gentleman to allow us rest. We may be in hostile land, but that gives us no right to be hostile ourselves.”

Some discussion continued but, as one would expect, the Lieutenant's order stood. The party of six Northern men emerged from the woods onto the road to the house and made a slow deliberate pace to it’s front door. While they soliders all had muskets and their officer a side arm, they made no effort to hide their approach. The light of the day was dimming quickly, and they may be lost against the fields, but that was never the intent of the small band.

They halted at the approach to the front porch, distance enough to watch the windows facing them, and readied for any ambush. Benjamin brushed dust from his uniform jacket, pulled it down tight and called out to the house.

“I am First Lieutenant of the 11th Ohio of the Army of Ohio. I wish to speak the Man of the House.”

“Miss Grace! Miss Grace! There are some Yankee soldiers out front! They’re asking for the man o’ the house,” James announced nervously. “I haven’t seen the Yankees since the beginning of the hostilities. Miss we really need to be careful here!”

“WHAT?” Grace replied amazed having been shaken from her thoughts. Surely he was mistaken. She had seen the confederate forces come through, but this was the first she had heard of the Yankees. Grace bounced up from her seat, walked to one of the windows and glanced out. She was having trouble seeing them clearly with the darkening skies.

“Outside, out front, Miss,” James answered, pointing in their general direction.

“James, get the gun. I want you to follow out behind me and keep it down, but ready. Understand?”

“Yes, Miss Grace,” he replied and hurried to retrieve the firearm.

When he returned, Grace smoothed back her hair, straightened her sapphire blue dress and wrapped a white, lace shawl around her before she opened the door. The light in the house behind her lit up the front and surrounded her. Grace stopped at the end of the porch where the steps led down and James followed up behind her ready to defend her.

Grace raised her chin and looked down at the Lieutenant and his five men. She wasn't about to show any fear. Not to them.

“You’re looking at him, Lieutenant,” she responded calmly. The old Scotsman stood there behind her, saying nothing and watching the group like a hawk.

“Now, prey tells what business the 11th Ohio of the Army of Ohio has to do with me?” she asked pointedly.

Some of the men voiced their concern when the door didn’t open immediately, yet the movement behind the windows were enough for Benjamin to give reasons to remain calm. Their tensions growing by the second as the demand went unanswered. He felt it too, but did his best to remain stoic, as no good would come from mis-reading the actions of those they were about to impose upon. When the door open, the boys stiffened at the ready as two silhouettes appeared at the frame. The one in front was female, but the man in back was the concern. It was quite clear that he held a rifle across his front and while at the ready, a skilled hand could turn it quick upon his men. Once more he raised his hand to calm the boys, even reaching to push a private’s gun back to his shoulder rather than threaten to make anger rise further.

When she moved closer to the end of the porch, what was left of twilight brought her into a greater view. His first impression of her was of the confidence she showed, understated even when one considered she was standing between armed men. Yet she was young for such confidence, might be younger than Benjamin himself, though not by much. The final grip of the day’s sun made her skin seem to glow with subtle brilliance. If not for such grand confidence, he could think he was arriving to take a debutant to the ball.

Benjamin calmly, removed his hat even if his sweat darkened his blondish hair. He held the wide brim hat in front of him, respectfully and widened his smile. “Pardon our interruption this evening, Ma’am. I am First Lieutenant Benjamin Shepard. I have fifty men that are wounded, tired, and hungry. I am requesting we use your farm to rest, in return we shall remain far from sight of the road so that no trouble would come from our presence here.”

The request was not a part of their original plan. Though what the regiment would need from the farm would be no different, most landowners in enemy territory would reject such a request and the needs would be taken regardless. Benjamin thought to chance a woman’s sense of hospitality.

Grace stood there for a moment studying the Lieutenant. He was fairly young and had he not a Union uniform on, she would have sworn he came out of a corn field with that sandy blonde hair. She had to stay serious at this moment. If the soldiers felt they could just take advantage, they would. Rather more specifically, if the Lieutenant thought so, they would.

There was no telling how many other units would impose themselves on the residents; this was just the first. Before long, they would be cleaned out of everything. Grace was placed in a particularly difficult situation now.
Grace motioned for James to lower his firearm, and he did.

“You are welcome to stay, Lieutenant, as long as I have your word… as a gentleman… your men will be on their best behavior and you only take what you absolutely MUST have and be frugal with what you do get. You are putting me in a very difficult position, you understand. Who is to say you are the only outfit that will impose itself on my hospitality?” She stood a little taller.

“I have women to care for here. Women of families who have worked this farm up until the hostilities. I must assure they are taken care of and this farm continues to run without interference. There is a bunkhouse in the back your men can use. The individual homes around the farm are for our families and are off limits to your men. Agreed?”

Grace’s eyes didn’t miss the men that were poised around him, and she watched his face to see how he would respond.

----

Inside the house, the housekeeper was fussing. She had been watching out the window and listening to the dialogue. There was no way their small pot of stew was going to feed 50 people or more. She clucked her tongue with a “Tsk!” and headed for the storage cellar. She’d need more vegetables. They could make their own stew to feed their little outfit.

He didn’t immediately respond to her question, but began to set things in motion. He turned to the young private and commanded, “Bring the most wounded forward quickly, they will have the bunkhouse. Two sentries out by the road, The rest of the men set up camp behind the main house. I want to see the officers as soon as their men find their places. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” his boyish voice cracked, then took a quick look up at the woman before turning to run back to the troops in hiding. Something in that look created a slight spark, that Benjamin didn’t quite capture.

He himself turned back to the woman and found her waiting still for agreement. In the dim light, her soft young features contrasted with her confidence. From the cascade of golden hair to the blue eyes still visible in the dying day, she seemed to carry a beauty that in less desperate times could draw a man’s interest. Something the boy private likely caught before the officer.

“We only will to take what we need, Ma’am, for that you have my word as a gentleman. Carrying your supplies on the march teaches one to be frugal.” He continued to stand with the hat in his hand respectfully. He stepped closer to where she stood on the house’s porch, no longer showing concern for her ‘man at arms’. “The woman of the farm, they can tend to wounds? And perhaps have bandages they can make as well? Of course the sooner my men can manage for themselves, the sooner the burden we bring will be reduced. Do you not agree missus …?” He left the last question hang between them.

It may not be all that she asked, but this was of course a negotiation. This farm was the shelter his brigade needed, but the offer now was that of acceptance to their presence as sure she is likely aware there is no rejection to their presence.

Grace looked back at James. “Can you please gather the others in the front room, I’d like to explain what’s going on and maybe we can get some help with the wounded,” she asked of him. James gave the Lieutenant a cursory glance before retreating back into the farmhouse. Grace smiled. She knew James to be a good man and would do what he could to protect the household.

Her gaze returned to the men who were mobilizing behind the Lieutenant. She could just make out the individual bodies as they shifted behind the wood line. It was unsettling to have that many soldiers right there on the doorstep. Men were men. The only one she really trusted was her father.

“Miss,” she emphasized, “Southern. Grace Southern” she answered, filling in the blank. She motioned for him to ascend the steps as she took a step back.
Grace wasn’t overly enthused with the soldiers being housed on her property, and while she was young, she also knew that whether or not she accepted their presence they were here for a time, whether she agreed or not. It was a dry pill to take. There was no battle line she could hide behind. All her neighbors and friends had been sent God only knows where, to fight a war that would end badly for one side or the other, marching across field and farm much in the manner this unit did. They’d just have to manage this.

-----

Inside the House

Having returned to the kitchen with the extra vegetables, Sadie was complaining under her breath. “No need to have all those Yankees held up here. They’re just going to cause trouble or worse.”

James stood in the doorway. “It’s what Miss Grace wants,” he interrupted. “Not the trouble, mind you. But she wants to extend the hospitality.”

Sadie looked up at him and put her hands on her hips. “You know as well as I no good can come of this.”

“They’d have imposed on us anyway, that is how it works in a time of war” he answered glibly. “It is as it has always been, during war.”

“Well I don’t like it!” Sadie shot back.

“Miss Grace wants everyone in the front room so she can explain,” James went on, and disappeared from the room to find the others. Sadie went back to mumbling her discontent.

Benjamin didn’t take any chances. He posted one of the remaining privates by the front door, and had the other follow him up and into the house, though he had them keep their sidearms at parade rest with the butts touching the ground to not appear ready to shoot.

As he ascended the stairs and passed her he bowed slightly. “Excuse my assumption Miss Southern. One does not suppose the lady of the house to do so unwed. I hope I did not offend you.” He wondered if the change in the way he spoke was noticed by the private behind him. In the presence of this girl, he seemed to slide off the tongue and manner of war and return to more the language he spoke around those of his standing. Even his accent that hinted to family from New York Upper Class began to find its way out. Yet he couldn’t control the change in the least. “I must assure you that under the dirt of the road and the smell of the horse, a gentleman still lies.”

Walking across the porch and into the house he felt the limp return of the strain in his side. Speaking of the horse and the road reminded him of the pain he tried to hide from his men for most the day. He still felt he needed to hide this pain but soon enough, like his men, he would find the rest to heal. He stopped upon entry and waited, allowing her to lead him to wherever she wished to speak.

Grace led the Lieutenant through the door and took an immediate left into the front room. She noted the slight limp, though she said nothing. Instead, she offered him a seat so that he could sit while they waited for James to gather the others. Grace chose a spot on the couch. It was generally easier with the number of petticoats she had to wear. She laid her hands neatly in her lap.

“I know you’re probably tired, Lieutenant Shepard, but I would like for everyone to see who you are so they’re not waking in the morning and finding the farm suddenly populated by your soldiers. They worry enough as it is,” she explained. Grace was going to say something, but the others started to file in.
One by one, the women filed in. There were 10 in all, plus the housekeeper, Sadie and James. Grace remained quiet as the chatter started. There were some gasps of surprise seeing the Lieutenant sitting there and the noise in the room grew. Grace held up her hand and the women settled down.

“Ladies, I’ve asked you here to introduce you to Lieutenant Benjamin Shepard. His outfit, the 11th Ohio of the Ohio has requested my hospitality while they nurse their wounded and rest. Now I don’t need to tell you we are in a tenuous position since the states are at war. Unfortunately, we are at the mercy of both sides which means we have no choice in the matter. The outfit will stay as long as necessary until they can move forward. In the meantime, I have the Lieutenant’s assurance they will take only what is necessary. I have also asked that his men steer clear of your personal lodgings and stick to the bunkhouse and areas surrounding. With any hopes, they will behave themselves. In return, the Lieutenant has asked for our cooperation to tend to their wounded. Now, I’d like to ask your cooperation and assist them with the wounded. Can you please do that?” she asked the group.

The women broke out into conversations. Grace listened carefully. As normal, there were disagreements and comments regarding the situation. None of them enjoyed the idea the Union troops had just walked up onto the farm.
One woman spoke up, “How do we know he’s going to keep his end of this agreement??”

Grace looked at Lieutenant Shepard and smiled, “He gave me his word. A gentleman never breaks his word,” she answered.

The conversation fired up again and the women debated for a short time. When the chatter finally slowed down, heads started to nod. It was the acceptance Grace was looking for.

“Thank you, ladies. Dinner is ready, so if you’d like to grab something and then please give these men a hand I would be most appreciative. Perhaps we can get some help in the field when everyone’s feeling better,” Grace suggested.

The women dispersed throughout the house and Grace looked back to the Lieutenant.

“I have dinner for you and your other officers when you’re ready. You can use the study if you need some privacy. When you’re ready, dinner is in the dining room just in the next room,” she gestured behind her.

“How many will we need to make room for?” she asked, studying him.

“Your offer is much too kind to join you. But the smell of this house will only miss my home, so if it is not too much trouble you would only that of myself and my right hand, Miss Southern,” he replied dropping his head lightly to the lady. “He may not be as refined, but he is too important to me.”

He assumed it will be some time before the officers came to find him, so he took thsi moment alone to get to know his host.

“I must admit, I find it refreshing to find such a hospitable host.” He stepped carefully on his sore leg to face her and took a moment to appreciate her fine, soft looks. “The day will certainly come when this war is over and we can resume a life where our two states are not at such odds. It will be gentle women like yourself that will allow us to heal.”

The warmth of the room caused him to feel the need to unbutton his coat some. He brushed his hair back with his sleeve moving a little sweat from his brow. “You speak of gentlemen, forgive me if I assume that is because you have gentlemen suitors or one that is your betrothed?”

“Your offer is much too kind to join you. But the smell of this house will only miss my home, so if it is not too much trouble you would only that of myself and my right hand, Miss Southern,” he replied dropping his head lightly to the lady. “He may not be as refined, but he is too important to me.”

“It is my pleasure to make room for you at our table,” came her answer. Grace looked back to James who hovered in the background. James nodded and disappeared to adjust the dinner setting. Grace looked back to the Lieutenant.

He assumed it will be some time before the officers came to find him, so he took this moment alone to get to know his host.

“I must admit, I find it refreshing to find such a hospitable host.” He stepped carefully on his sore leg to face her and took a moment to appreciate her fine, soft looks. “The day will certainly come when this war is over and we can resume a life where our two states are not at such odds. It will be gentle women like yourself that will allow us to heal.”

Grace watched the Lieutenant carefully as he favored his leg, listening. No one would have noticed under normal circumstances, but Grace was particularly observant of body language. It was all a part of the education she had received and the experience of watching the fields.

“You’re very kind, Lieutenant Shepard. In my mind, it is in both of our interests to work together. Your men need the rest and healing and I need the help to get the crops planted for the summer. I have 10 women who have done very little by way of manual labor and they’re having a great deal of trouble getting anything done. Aside from that, it is just good Southern hospitality and I would be remiss not to offer some shelter.”

The warmth of the room caused him to feel the need to unbutton his coat some. He brushed his hair back with his sleeve moving a little sweat from his brow. “You speak of gentlemen, forgive me if I assume that is because you have gentlemen suitors or one that is your betrothed?”

Grace opened her fan and began to fan herself slowly. She could see the Lieutenant wasn’t used to the Southern environment. Grace felt sorry for him and the rest. The young mistress rose with fluid grace and approached the windows in the front room, one at a time. Grace opened the windows wide to allow the fresh air to come billowing in like a wave to cool off the room. She then returned to her seat and started to fan herself once again.

“I am not betrothed and I haven’t been home long enough to have suitors, Lieutenant. I am recently returned from the university. I was in the process of planning out my next move when you showed up on my doorstep. And of course, there is the war to consider also,” she responded. Grace brought the fan up to her face briefly, to conceal everything except her startling, blue eyes. She was attempting to hide the color that was rising in her cheeks. She hadn’t thought of her availability, and all she had been worried about was what she was going to do next. Her father had been the one who would have planned her life out, except he allowed her to be educated. Now she needed more. She wanted a fulfilling life.

Sadie returned to the front room, “Dinner is ready, Mistress,” she announced.

“Thank you, Sadie,” Grace answered, motioning to the Lieutenant.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Grace waited until the Lieutenant began to move before she rose from her spot and walked towards the dining room. There was a very long table in the center of the room surrounded by chairs. It was clear this room was used for large dining parties. Tonight though, the room would be filled with women and the two soldiers.

Grace moved to the head of the table where James held the chair for her. When she sat down, she motioned for the Lieutenant and his man to sit one on each side of her. The rest of the chairs were filled in with the women. Sadie set two loaves of hot bread on the table and filled all the bowls with fresh stew. Pitchers of tea and water made their way around the table. Grace held out her hands and the rest of the women followed suit to say grace, waiting to see if the soldiers would join in.

So they moved forward to the dinner, in a way a comfort for Benjamin. One more comment out of him of her availability and she might take that as a proposal for marriage; that is if customs this far south was like the eagerness of his mother’s desire to find him a bride. Sheepishly he began heading for the dining room, capturing Kearney as he entered the house to give him a situational rundown. Simply put the meeting with his officers would have to wait until following dinner, a courtesy necessary for their hostess. Something Kearney wasn’t too happy about, but in their brief words Kearney knew his position, and bit his tongue like a good soldier.

Of course, the men waited until all of their hostesses were seated before finding a seat as well. Both men prepared their settings accordingly, not at all out of place with the rest. In part because the protocol here was not too different than what they knew before the war, but mostly as Benjamin knew as much as Kearney, that they were indeed guests of this place and needed these women much more than the women needed them. The only possible indiscretion coming when Kearney sneaked a half glass of the tea before refilling it prior to the blessing. It was, though, a hot day.

The men, though, were taken aback when the blessing come. Kearney, a true irish Catholic, would say a prayer over hardtack if he had his hands free. Benjamin, not as often to do so, but recognized the need for such a good meal in front of him. What was odd was the ladies offered their own hands to grasp each other. When a blessing is performed where they came from, one simply puts their hands together in prayer. They were reaching to the men as if it was one circle of prayer. Strange custom indeed, but worth the theological lesson at a later time. Kearney looked suspiciously at the his Lieutenant for a sign. Benjamin just shrugged and reached for the ladies hands next to him closing his eyes in the process.

As the blessing begun, he became acutely aware of Grace’s hand in his. They were that of a girl’s even if she was clearly a grown woman. They remained delicate, soft, and warm. He wondered if his felt angry and callused against her ivory skin, but couldn’t help but to shift his hand slightly to feel more of her touch. His thumb rose up and slide slowly across the back of her hand. Something inside of him warmed, and he opened his eyes. He looked to the lady next to her, her eyes closed and the light brush of hair escaping from where it was put up. Her felt a desire to explore her cheeks and neck to see if it’s touch was like that of her hand. He watched her as the blessing had ended, and hoped that when she was finished that her blue eyes opened just long enough for him see them before he had to let go.

War, as it were, was an odd creature. It separated households and brought hardship and famine, but it also bred self-reliance and allowed strangers to exist under a single roof. Here, at the Southern table, strangers would dine together this night and in relative peace. The blessing had been heartfelt and meaningful and gave Grace some joy deep in her heart. She knew God would provide for them and there was a reason he had brought the 11th to her doorstep. Grace was silent for a moment longer as she conveyed her thanks and prayed for strength and understanding. When her blue eyes opened, they met the faces of each individual at her table then finally resting on the Lieutenant. Her lips turned up in a smile before she released his firm, work-hardened hands.

Grace reached for her napkin and spread it out over her lap. James filled her glass with water and took his seat next to Sadie. Grace picked up her spoon and began to eat. The time she spent enjoying her meal gave her some time to reflect on the newcomers. The men were clearly just common men. The Lieutenant, however, had the bearing of someone who was raised in gentile society. The common man in these parts would have asked her about a bo. The gentile had a subtle way around such things. He spoke her language, despite the fact he was a Union soldier. He had a certain ruggedness complimented by a polished manner she found attractive. It was silly to think any deeper than that. She wasn’t in any position to take on any folly. Not while she was trying to run this farm.

When she stopped chewing, Grace broke the silence,” Lieutenant, tell me something about you.”

Wiping a bit of the stew from his own mustache, Benjamin nodded to the lady.

“Well, Miss Southern,” he started. “I come from the town of Cuyahoga near Cleveland. In fact most of the men in the 11th came from that area, Miss; but I am more of a newcomer than they are. My Father brought us there not short of 8 years ago from Niagara to invest in the railroad there.”

He looked across the table towards Kearney who seemed to be interested in a conversation with the lady next to him as well. It gave Benjamin opportunity to relax, and feel more comfortable in this place.

He leaned in closer to the lady and spoke openingly to her. “My father believes the railroad will take off once the war is over, and has promised me a place on the board of directors on my return. But I believe it is that he wishes the rights to military contracts since an officer sits on the board. Those who never seen battle think we are all war heros.” He gave her a wink as if to suggest the last line was a joke, even if a simple one. “It may not be as satisfying at the labor one can do on a farm, but the railroad is important to all of us.”

“Well, I think your father is correct. The railroad is a faster mode of transport and it could do well going coast to coast. In fact, if we could connect all the major cities, we could get more across distance. Travel could be a lot more pleasant for more people. It must be comforting to know you will have a job to go back to.” Grace answered, smiling.

Well, well. Assuming he would survive the war, Benjamin Shepard seemed to have his stars all lined up. What a fortunate man he was. The question was, did he really WANT to be on the board of directors? Parents were always so involved in their children’s first steps into the world. Grace knew that intimately in her dealings with her own family. She pictured, for a split second, just what it would be like to be having this conversation outside the circumstances of war. The Lieutenant might actually be someone she could enjoy being with.

Grace glanced over at Kearney. Yes, the man did look like he was enjoying the company. These men really weren’t any different from her own people. They didn’t choose to go to war, but she knew her people wanted to go. It was a matter of states’ rights. Boys and young men had farms to run and school to attend. They should be living life and not out and about trying to kill one another.

She sighed softly. “I’d like to see what Ohio looks like one day. There are many places I’d love to visit. Tell me, if you had an opportunity to see any place, where would it be?”

He smiled a little bit at her question, then laughed. “Call it simple, Miss, but I wouldn’t want to see anywhere but where I grew up,” he started. “You see, on a nice warm day, we would take the short carriage ride to the the falls there. Surely you have heard of it, the Niagara Falls?”

Without out much time to let her answer, he started to speak again but seemed to become lost in the imagery he was trying to picture. “They are grand, as grand as you can imagine. A great gaping ledge where all the waters of North America pour across to the rocks below. It is a great wondrous veil of crashing water. The roar is constant, the spray shooting upwards like blown for the earth itself. Until the sun strikes it in quite the right way so that the sky became the longest, brightest rainbow learning from one horizon to the other.

“When I was a boy, we would ride out the this park on Goat Island. It would be as simple of a day as sitting on the lush green grass as my sister and I would run down to the edge and throw stones over to see if the stories are true that spray was so powerful the stones would rush back in the air. Or we would walk along the maddening rivers rushing their way to the edge of oblivion. Or we would play amongst the trees. But it was the falls, I loved. The wonderfall falls that seemed to be locked in timeless continuation of the river, but ever changing, and ever filled with something new to see.”

He stopped, then became immediately aware he had talked on and on as a poor guest would, and ducked his head with embarrassment. “A-and .. you Miss?” he said as he dug out a spoonful of stew. “What would you like to see besides Ohio?”

Grace listened with an interest only an enthusiast would have. She hung on his every word. The way he described the falls, she could see them in her mind’s eye. She was disappointed when he suddenly stopped.

She lowered her spoon and she tapped an index finger to her lips in thought.

“Well,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind seeing Atlanta, or Charleston, or even Paris. Anything West I think is still a risk and might be more prudent to stick with the areas I know are civilized. The way you describe your home and the area nearby is breathtaking. It beckons to me. I may have to add it to my list of places to see.”

“Here, we don’t have the big falls, but we have some beautiful streams. The water is crystal clear, tumbling over smooth rocks, enveloped by the green banks. We have huge willow trees that reach over the banks nearly dipping their limbs into the water. Perfect places to take a nap, or enjoy some serenity.”

She fell into silence as the other voices took over and continued to eat. Surely a man who remembered such things so strongly could appreciate and respect the things around him. She couldn’t remember the last time she had the company of others, and she was enjoying the opportunity, as it was. Grace smiled as she glanced over at her guest but quickly looked down. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. It was a good thing her thoughts were her own.

It was a brief description, but he could see these places too. Picture them in his mind like that of the old stories of sitting along a river side. Not like the rushing waters on Goat Island, but simpler, calmer. Something about Miss Grace Southern doing just that as a young girl made something grow a nice warm feeling in his chest. It was a feeling that only was intensified when she seemed to look away and blushed.

It made him parrot her reaction. He looked away and blushed himself. Quickly he realized that there was far too many in this room that could see him react as such, and could think ill of his actions, or worse than that to think ill of hers.

He acted quickly. He placed his utensils down and stood sliding the chair back. “I cannot thank all of you enough for the hospitality during dinner tonight, but we must see that our troops have settled appropriately.” Looking across the table to his man who seemed to become very friendly to the lady by his side, Benjamin said calmly, “Sergeant Kearney, shall we?”

He rushed it, in fact, he felt like he couldn’t move fast enough. Yet he also did what he could to catch Miss Southern’s eye to ensure he presented his thanks if not just in words. Thanks not only for her opening up her house, but some else he could not quite place.

What they found when the brought the officers together was better than expected. Gathered in the nighttime darkness near the main house, the reports were gathered in. The injured were moved to the bunkhouse as offered; and the remaining troops set up camp inside an old barn. Once they were settled, one would need to enter the barn doors to even find the army.

With that, Benjamin gave his next orders: “We have done well, but we must do our best to make the best of what we have been offered and to return the favor in kind. First, we must relieve these good people of the stain of our regiment as soon as possible. In the morning, send a scout out to find the Army of Ohio, relay our situation, and report back where and when we can meet up with them. These appear to be good people, but they are still rebels; so report to me any suspicious behavior. Yet, someday we will win this war and Tennessee will once again be fellow countrymen, so our hosts shall receive the utmost respect. That is an order, understood? Do onto others as the good book says.”

The officers agreed, even if grudgingly.

Kearney spoke up then, “The lady of the house said she be short of hands in the fields. Maybe the able bodied boys could do so t‘morrow, Mr. Shepard.”

With a nod Benjamin replied, “well thought, Sargeant. But none are to wear their uniform tops or anything to suggest they are fighting for the union. What we don’t need is a passing skirmish of rebels shooting up this farm because someone flew the stars and stripes. “

The meeting continued, and followed the same theme. They were to make the best of the situation, yet be seen as little as possible as anything but hired hands. If the scout came back in a day or two, then they will know to move on. Yet for now, this would be their home.

As he returned to the house to find the study she offered him, Bejamin peered into some of the rooms. Eventually he realized, it was just in hopes to run into Miss Southern to spend some more time with her. The fact that he realized as such made him begin to blush again. The war has been long, and it has been some time since he sat in a room with a woman like Grace. Sure he had courted other ladies in his younger days, but in such times and in such a place he shouldn’t even allow himself to think of such a woman in such a way.

Yet he still did.

He could almost hear his sister’s voice in his head, playfully mocking him that he might be fond of some girl. The sing-song and dancing about like she did so many times when he was a boy played in his head of the great memories of his past. He laughed at the image, smiled at the thought. Then just grew weary.

Finding the study, he slid the door closed but unaware it wasn’t quite latched. He removed his jacket, and unbuttoned the wool shirt underneath. It had been a long day, and standing finally with his torso bare finally gave him cooling relief. He wiped lightly across his war built muscles the dust and sweat from the day with his shirt before hanging it on a chair. Then with a yawn he stretched his arms well above his head. Weary was the word, weary indeed.

The dining room cleared out quickly and was returned to a state of readiness in no time. Everyone on the farm had their chores to do and they saw to closing up the house.

Sadie and James worked in the kitchen with some of the ladies getting dinners dishes cleaned up. Grace took the opportunity to take a bowl of stew upstairs to her mother who was still on bed rest.

"Gracie, what is all that noise downstairs?" She asked.

"We have a few guests passing through, Mother, that's all," Grace responded, placing the tray of food over her mother's lap as she sat there in bed.

"Who are they?" Her mother asked again.

"Just some passing soldiers. Mother please don't worry. I've spoken to the man in charge. I'm sure they will be gone before you realize it."

Grace smiled warmly as she helped her mother finish her meal and took the tray away.

"I'm handling everything, don't worry."

Grace kissed her mother and took the tray out of the room. When she closed the door behind her, grace set the tray down on a side table and headed over to the closet. She pulled out an extra pillow blankets and linens. She buried her face in the pillow and took in a deep breath.

Lavender.

She loved the sweet fragrances of flowers, though she wasn't sure how the lieutenant would take the floral scent. It matches her perfume, strangely enough. Still, she would run it downstairs to him to make him more comfortable.

Grace took the stairs carefully. She had seen the folly of descending too quickly and the results of a fall. She didn't want to be the next victim. When she finally came to the study, she couldn't help but to see the lieutenant stretching, with his upper body exposed. She caught herself staring after him as her eyes roamed over his defined upper body. She caught a breath in her throat. She hadn't seen a man in such a state of undress. It just wasn't gentile. It was clearly inappropriate.

Yet she couldn't tear her gaze from him. Even at a distance she could see every muscular outline. His shoulder blades, his skin, even the sweat he couldn't reach from his brief wipe down. She felt an odd desire of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place. Maybe interest. After finally realizing her folly, she glanced away and cleared her throat before knocking at the study doors. She held the linen and blankets in her hand and waited for him to answer.

The knock made him turn quickly to the door, and immediately he flushed. The young woman who had begun to make camp in his mind now stood at the door as he was undressed. Sure, it was only his shirt that was off, yet it still embarrassed him. Luckily she seemed to have kept eyes averted when she knocked.

“Oh … sorry, Miss … Miss Southern,” he fumbled as he swooped the shirt in his hand back over his shoulders. “I am sorry, I was sure the door was latched. Come in.” By now a button was made just below his chest line closing the dirty garment. He battled with a couple others lower on his torso, but his fumbling fingers were not behaving.

“My apologies Miss Southern, I was only trying to become more comfortable in this heat. I didn’t mean to be such a state for anyone to see. I was sure I had the door latched.” He saw that she carried linens and started to step towards her to take them from her and the hastily button shirt fell open again. “Here, let me,” he said without noticing the shirt.

He reached for the linen, and felt his hand touch hers. Her skin was incredibly soft for a farm woman. Maybe it was that he hadn’t touched a woman’s hand in months, but it sent a warmth thru him in that brief moment that made him suck in air. As he did, he realized the smell and tried to guess it’s origin.

“Lavender?”

Grace tried very hard not to make him any more uncomfortable than he was already. She could have waited a while before bringing the extra linen to him, but to be perfectly honest with herself, she didn't want to wait. She had been fortunate he hadn't noticed how she had freely roamed his exposed flesh with her eyes. No, that just wasn't good. The two of them knew the rules of society despite their geographic origins. It was all the same.

She smiled warmly as he stuttered trying to apologize, and when he had managed a few buttons, she tried not to giggle like some silly twit. Grace met his gaze. She could see the renewed color in his face, and as he stepped forward to take the linen, she diverted her gaze down as would be expected.

The brief touch of his hand sent butterflies through her stomach and she had to consciously remind herself he was just another man. A man who just happened to be in the Yankee Army. But he was a gentleman. He was supposed to be the enemy. Why didn't she feel that way?

His question pulled her back from her thoughts.

"Yes actually, that's a very good guess. All the linens are washed in lavender. It helps with sleep, especially in the warmer months. You will need the blanket later, despite the warmth now. I know you've had a long day, so I won't keep you any longer. There's also a night shirt under the pillow if you like. It's clean and it's one of my brother's. If you will leave your shirt on the table outside of the study, I'll see that it's washed properly. You can have it by morning."

Grace took a breath before she turned to go.

"Oh, Lieutenant Shepard," she said, her eyes meeting his again, "Thank you, I enjoyed your company at dinner."

With that, she slipped through the doors and closed them. She was so giddy it was almost embarrassing. It was as if she had never been in the presence of another person. What was going on with her?

Grace left instructions with Sadie to assure his clothes were freshly washed by morning, if he chose to take her up on her offer. The housekeeper just shook her head and watched as Grace disappeared up the stairs for the night.

When Grace finally took respite in her room, it took her some time to get ready for bed. She managed to get undressed and get her hair unpinned. As she sat there on the edge of the bed, she ran a brush through her hair again and again, working any tangles from its long length.

Her thoughts wandered a while, from her family, to the farm and what needed to be done there. There was so much yet to do. Grace prayed earnestly for the return of her family. When she was done, she set the brush down on the table and slipped under the covers and blew out the light. She laid there a while in the dark and closed her eyes. Her thoughts kept wandering back to the Lieutenant who took up residence in the study. He would be comfortable enough there, as her father spent many, many nights there when he was home. It was practically his home within, as her mother called it. She found caught herself thinking about him and tried to think of something else.

She could see him in her mind's eye and the vision of him standing there, half dressed kept creeping back. Grace turned over. It would be a restless night for her.

It was a restless night for him as well.

He chose to sleep in a lounge chain the study, pulling the linens across his body the best he could. His shirt, pants, and britches left as suggested by the lady of the house outside of the room, so he wore only the night shirt which hung to his thighs. The short nature of the shirt started entering into his mind every time the sound of footsteps moved in the hallway. So easily was he caught with his shirt off by Miss Southern, that now he worried the wrong movement in his sleep would leave something far more scandalous in plain sight.

The smell of lavender turned over in his senses as well. Stronger here in these sheets, his mind now connects the scent with her. It permeates the warm air of the study as if she never left. When he closes his eyes he can hear her voice, when he moves his hand he can feel her soft touch. With the candles & the room black, his mind begins to picture her here, the shape of her against the silhouetted window. The small glimpses he took to examine her frame now dances in his mind to the point that he can see what it may look like beyond her proper dress.

Of course such thoughts drive him mad. She is clearly a good woman with a good upbringing. Just because he has gone many months without a woman in his arms does not mean that he should think such evils of her. She is good, and these thoughts his alone. Sure she thanked him for the company this evening, but he is likely in her mind nothing more than an invasion on her life, a scoundrel like the rebel soldiers were in Kansas & Missouri.

Finally, he rises from the lounge. If he cannot sleep, he must at least move around and bring life back to the ache that continues in this side. He leaves the study, walks quietly on bare feet to the kitchen. It is empty and quiet, suggesting that even the help be allowed their own rest at some point. In the darkness he finds a glass and the tea from dinner. A simple drink to help cool the body from the heat should do him good. From the kitchen window he looks out on the fields. The moon has risen up over the trees, casting a white glow across the farm. Clouds, silver and puffy, stroll across the sky. He could see now why someone would live here, love this place. There was a gentle calmness it gives him. Even though the warmth was relentless, it was infact able to open his senses and enjoy what the land has to offer.

It is something else to think about now, something to sleep on, and he finishes the glass of tea he thinks again of her. How it might be to share these night with her in this place. It was a nice thought, a good thought. One that will now at least help him to rest with a clearer mind.

Grace turned over yet again. She couldn't clear her mind of the new guest and it wasn't because he was a soldier. It was because she could see beyond his current commission. Lieutenant Shepard, while clearly committed to his task also missed his home life. It was probably just like her family. He had a wonderful way of expressing his thoughts, and she gained that understanding just through dinner. She really did wonder about him. What made him so unique. It probably was sinful to think that he held any interest for her. They had just met. Her curiosity though, was sure to get the best of her at some point.

She wasn't going to sleep this way. So she really needed to stop thinking about him. Soon, grace was thinking about how to get the spring planting done. The crops had to be set so the farm could be productive through the summer. Grace eventually dropped off to sleep.

Morning was fast in coming and Grace didn't want to get up. She buried her face in the sheets until she was ready to face the day. A knock came to the door. "Come in," she answered in a muffled voice.

Sadie stepped into the room. "Rise and shine, sunshine!" She exclaimed.

Grace sighed. "Yes, I know," she answered.

"The Lieutenant has clean clothes now," she announced.

"Great. Thanks for doing that for me," Grace responded with a smile.

"Breakfast is ready when you are," Sadie added.

"Thank you," Grace responded before Sadie disappeared.

It was time to meet the day. Grace took the time to find a rich brown gown to wear when she made her rounds on the farm. She had to be practical. Once she dressed, Grace put her hair up. It would do no good to have anything in her face when she was trying to get things done. When she was ready, she slipped on her shoes and headed downstairs.

Grace could smell the aroma of breakfast was it filled the air. Her tummy was rumbling. She would take a cup of tea and wait to see if their guest would make an appearance.

It was early when he was up, and surprisingly the clothing he left out the night before was waiting outside the door of the study when he rose. He re-doned the fresh uniform, slid on his boots, and headed out to check on the troops. They were rising early as well, and small fires were lit outside the barn to begin cooking bacon & coffee to go with hardtack. There was something different in the air this morning, yet he couldn’t quite place it. At first it seemed that the men were setting their priorities not much different than he did - a warm meal, a chance to brush down their clothing, to clean their rifles, to sit for a spell. There was an intension to their activities, but not a rush. Some even seemed to take a moment to talk to their Lieutenant on their preparations and mention of the day.

This was when Benjamin started to realize what was different. For the first time in a month, the regiment knew that their orders for the day was to hold tight. Not to march, not to stand guard, not to go into battle. It was a day without war, and it was welcomed.

Arriving back at the house, he could smell the meals in the kitchen underway. He entered the bustling kitchen to find the the hard working housewoman at work. “Ahh, good morning Miss,” he paused trying to remember her, “Miss Sadie, isn’t it?”

“Good morning to you, Lieutenant,” she replied quite coldly. “Breakfast will be ready soon enough.”

“Oh, none for me thank you kindly,” he replied. “I had mine with the boys.” He raised the tin cup filled with boiled coffee in hand to emphasize.

She only nodded back, still working away on things in a cast iron skillet.

Awkwardly, trying to find conversation, Benjamin complimented, “you must be an early riser. You did a fine job on my uniform, cleaner than its been since I enlisted. And to have it ready at first light. It is no wonder why Miss Southern trusts you so.”

She stopped and turned, with cold eyes staring back at him. “Mind you that I do my duty to My Gracie, and if it weren’t for her words you would be on your way to meet your devil’s end. We know your army kills our husbands and sons; we know when you leave here you will do just that. We know what will happen if our own men find out we helped you. The only reason that it is right that we allow this to happen is to show you Southerners are better than Yankees. Grace is a good girl, a sweet girl, and she doesn’t know what yankee boys do to good girls, and may you burn with Satan if she is so ruined by what you bring. So if it means staying up the night to wash your britches just to send you on your way that is what I will do.”

It was direct, it was blunt, but it wasn’t arguable. Still Benjamin stood stunned, his coffee in his hand, his eyes wide, and wordless.

It was in that cloud of tense silence that the lady of the house entered the kitchen.