Brings the Lightning (The Ames Archives Book 1) (4 page)

Walt used his spyglass to examine his parent’s farm carefully in the afternoon sunlight. From his position on the hillside two miles away, it looked calm enough. A saddled horse was hitched to one of the front porch rails. He frowned as he saw a blue-uniformed figure come through the front door, followed by a young lady. For a moment he couldn’t figure out who they were, then he suddenly recognized the woman.
That’s Katie! Dang, she grew up!
He felt a warm flush of pleasure as he looked at his baby sister, a child no longer.

He watched as she said something to the Union soldier, her hand on his sleeve. He laughed, then swung into the saddle. They chatted back and forth for a moment, then the man turned his horse and cantered down the path towards the road.
Is she sparking that
Yankee?
he wondered. For a moment he felt a surge of anger at the idea of a bluecoat courting his sister, then mentally reproved himself.
War’s over—and besides, Pa and Ma never took for one side or the other.

He closed the spyglass and returned it to the cloth pouch he’d fashioned for it. It had proved useful during his long journey. He dropped it into his saddlebag, then thought for a moment. If a Union soldier would be visiting the house, it might not be a good idea to keep all his weapons there, particularly since he wasn’t supposed to bring any back from the war. Better cache most of them somewhere safe—his gold, too, for that matter.

The well-hidden cave a mile from the farm was mostly as he remembered it, although it seemed much smaller now. It had served him and his brother well as a secret retreat in their youth, but now he’d grown so tall that he could no longer easily get through its low, cramped entrance. He had to slide in sideways and duck low. Fortunately, it opened into a larger chamber inside. He could tell by the smell that animals had been living here at some time over the past few years, but there was no sign of recent occupation and there had been no tracks in the ground outside. He couldn’t get his pack saddle through the entrance, but he was able to carry most of his weapons inside, one or two at a time. He brought in some small rocks and fallen boughs from the hillside to keep everything off the dirt floor, and slid the pouch containing the gold double-eagles into a recess deep inside the cave. Even if someone found the cave and stole his weapons, they probably wouldn’t find the money unless they knew where to look for it.

He went outside and looked around with the eyes of an experienced scout, then went about erasing all traces of his recent presence. Once he was satisfied that no one would notice anything out of place, he made his way back to his horses, swung into the saddle and headed down the hill.

As he rode down the lane towards the farm, he looked over the fields with a critical eye. Only half of them had been plowed for spring planting. Was Pa allowing the others to go to hay, for winter feed? He never had before. He drew rein outside the house, dismounted and tied his mount’s reins to the hitching rail in front of the porch. The two pack horses, still tied to his saddle, would wait with their companion.

He walked up the wooden step to the porch and knocked at the front door. There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of hurrying footsteps, and then the door opened. Katie said, “Yes?”

For a moment he couldn’t speak. Clearly, she didn’t recognize him beneath his overgrown hair and beard; but then, she’d only known him when he was younger and clean-shaven. At last he managed to stammer, “I… I’m home, Katie.”

She stared at him as if she’d seen a ghost, and clutched at the doorframe for support.
“Walter!”

“Large as life and twice as ugly, little sister. You’re all grown up! You’re a lady now.”

“But you–you’re dead!”

He couldn’t help grinning. “Would I be here talking to you like this if I was?”

She looked as if she were about to faint. “N–no–you don’t understand. W–we were told in December that you’d been killed in Virginia. Ma… she never got over the news, not after losing Charlie in the fall.”

An icy chill ran from his head all the way down to his boots. “
Charlie?
What happened to him?”

“He–he died of the bloody flux in Alabama. October last year, it was. A chaplain sent a letter to us with his last words.”

Walt shook his head, unable to hold back the tears that sprang to his eyes. His older brother had enlisted a year before him, as soon as the war broke out. He’d always known that something might happen to Charlie, just as it might to him; but somehow the reality of that danger had never sunk in. He hesitated, hardly daring to voice the fear her words had raised in him. “You… you said something about Ma?”

Her eyes brimmed with moisture as she nodded. “She caught pneumonia. She died just after Christmas. It was like she… she didn’t want to fight it… almost as if she didn’t have anything left to live for, after we heard about both of you.”

He hung his head for a moment, unable to speak. At last he said hoarsely, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, “Who told you I was dead? I was hurt in a skirmish last November, but I was back on my horse inside a month.”

“It was a nurse at Chimborazo Hospital in Richmond. She wrote, saying you died of wounds, and were buried in Oakwood Cemetery. She even gave us your grave number.”

“That’s the hospital where they sent me, right enough, but I was only there for a few days before they kicked me out. They said they needed my bed for someone worse hurt.”

“Then they must have mixed up your records with someone else’s.” Tears began to drip down her cheeks. “That’s… that’s just about the saddest thing I ever did hear. If only you’d written, so Ma had known you was alive!”

“I did, Katie! I’ve written every single month since I went away.”

She shook her head. “We got maybe five, at most six letters from you ever since you went to Virginia. We’ve had none at all since September last year.”

“God
damn
those field post service slackers!” He stopped himself as he realized there was nothing at all he could do. They were all either dead or paroled by now—and besides, it probably wasn’t any one man’s fault. He shook his head. “That’s the war for you. It worked both ways. I had only four letters from you since I left Tennessee two years ago, and five from Ma and Pa.”

“We all wrote to you every month, too—sometimes more often.”

“I guess part of the problem was me being a scout and courier. I moved around so much, your mail must’ve had a hard time catching up with me.”

They looked at each other in a long and bitterly painful silence. At last she sighed. “You’d better take your horses round to the stable, then. Old Mose is working for us now. He’ll look after them for you.”

“Mose? You mean Mrs. Eliot’s hired hand?”

“Yes. She couldn’t afford to keep him after she lost her job at the schoolhouse. That’s not all she’s going to lose, either. Her farm’s being auctioned for taxes next week. They say she’s three years in arrears.”

“How’d she lose her job?”

Katie shrugged. “Not enough children to warrant two teachers any longer. Too many of the older ones went off to fight. The younger ones had to work on the farms to take their place. I did that here for half a year, until Pa hired Mose and I could go back to school to finish.”

“Where is Pa?”

“He went to Nashville on county business. He’s one of the Commissioners now. He’ll be back tomorrow. You’d better let me meet him an’ tell him you’re alive before he sees you. He’s been awful sorrowful since Ma died. I’d hate for the shock to… well, you know. His heart ain’t strong these days.”

“Yes, I see. I’ll stay out of sight until you’ve told him I’m home. Say, Katie, I thought I saw a blue-belly here a short while back, just before I arrived. Who’s he?”

She flushed as she flared up, “Were you spying on me?”

“No, just looking over the place from the hillside up yonder. I wanted to see what it looked like before I rode up. I guess it’s a habit I got into during the war, being a scout and all.”

“Well… He’s a lieutenant. Used to be with the Third Regiment, Tennessee Volunteer Infantry until they disbanded in February. He’s working for the Quartermaster’s warehouse in Nashville now, based here in Sparta to buy supplies from around the area an’ send them in. He’ll be discharged soon. We… we’re fixing to get married next month. You won’t make any trouble about that, will you?”

“No, of course not. I can’t say it pleases me to know you’re marrying a Yankee, but I guess it don’t make him happy to know that both your brothers wore the gray. Still, the war’s over now. We’re going to have to learn to live together again, I guess. What’s his name?”

“It’s Jim–Jim Webber.” She hesitated, and visibly braced herself. “Walt, you won’t like what I’ve got to tell you. We thought you was dead, so Pa said me and Jim can live here and take over the farm from him when the time comes.”

Walt was silent for a long moment, then exhaled and shook his head slowly. “I’d always figured that Charlie would inherit the farm and I’d have to find a place of my own, so I guess it doesn’t matter, Katie. Perhaps it’ll be for the best. You and your husband can look after Pa, so I won’t have to worry about him.”

“But what about you? What will you do?”

He shrugged. “I’m going west, Katie. It’s pioneer country. From what I hear, you’ve got to work so hard to stay alive and make it through that no one’s got much time to worry over what side you were on. That’ll suit me fine. Around these parts, it’ll take years for folk to forget that.”

“I… I see… I guess. What will you do out there?”

“Whatever I have to turn my hand to. I’ve already learned how to stay alive. That’s a good start.”

―――――

The reunion with his father was bittersweet. Tears ran down both of their faces as they embraced. His father held onto him for what seemed like forever, hugging him hard. Walt was glad to hug him back, so his father couldn’t see the shock in his eyes.
Pa’s aged something terrible. He looks really old, all of a sudden.

Katie cooked supper for them, then at a look from Pa, excused herself to let them talk. His father led him into the study at the back of the house where he’d always kept the farm’s books.

“I guess you aren’t a boy any longer, Walt, so how about a drink?”

“Thanks, Pa.”

“It’s hard to get decent whiskey these days. There’s an awful lot of rotgut about. Luckily, old Mose still knows where to get the good stuff.” He took a stone jug from a cupboard, along with two glasses, and poured a couple of fingers of the clear liquor into each of them. “Here. This’ll put hair on your chest.”

Walt drank, swilled the spirit around his mouth, swallowed, and coughed. “
Man!
That’s got a bite to it. I never knew you to drink anything that strong before.”

The older man shrugged. “I didn’t until recently. I won’t lie to you, Walt. I found it very hard, losing what I thought was both my boys, and then your Ma too. This helped for a while.”

“I guess.” Walt tried to keep the pain out of his voice. He hated the thought of his father having to rely on a bottle to get through the day.

His father must have seen something in his face, because he reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. It might’ve gone badly for me, but Katie put a stop to it before I went too far downhill. She threatened to leave me here alone—told me she wasn’t going to stay here and watch me drink myself into a grave next to your Ma’s. That shook me out of it. I still take a glass or two now and then, but no longer to drown my sorrows—and I’ve got one less to drown, now that you’re home!”

Walt raised his glass. “I’m glad to hear that, Pa. About Katie. What d’you think of this Union lieutenant she’s set on marrying?”

“He’s a good man, Walt. He chose a different side to you, but that don’t mean he’s bad.”

“We had good and bad folk among our own, so I guess it was the same for the Union.” He made a mental note to visit this Jim Webber in Sparta tomorrow, to introduce himself to his future brother-in-law. He needed to go into town anyhow, to buy some new clothes.

“You reckon you can live with the thought of Katie being married to him?”

“I just want her to be happy. If you figure he’s the right man for her, that’s all that matters to me.”

His father smiled with relief. “I’m glad you see it that way, Walt. You’re not upset at my telling them they can have the farm when I’m gone?”

“You thought I was dead when you promised it to them. I can hardly blame you for that. Besides, I don’t think I want to stay here. I’ve seen too much, maybe done too much. I don’t think I could settle down behind a plow now.”

“Do you have to leave so soon?” His father’s voice cracked a little. “I just got you back, Walt. Can’t you stay a while?”

Walt shook his head. “I wish I could, Pa, but… it’s like I got a wild hair in me. There ain’t no peace for me around here anymore. I got to make a fresh start somewhere my memories won’t haunt me.”

His father’s eyes met his and held them, until Walt had to look away. “The war. What did it do to you, son?”

Walt took a deep breath, then shook his head. He couldn’t tell his father about what he’d done and the men he’d killed. He’d done what he had to do to survive, but Pa hadn’t ever fought. He wouldn’t understand that sometimes a man had to do what was needful. “Can’t rightly talk about it. It’s still too fresh.”

His father sighed. “I won’t press you. A man has to keep his own counsel. Will you be able to come back and visit us?”

“Soon as I can afford it and can spare the time. Maybe in a year or two. I’ll wait until feelings about the war have died down. They’re running too high right now in these parts.”

“I suppose so. I don’t have much money, Walt, but I’ll give you something for the road. That’s the least I can do, to help you make a fresh start.”

“There’s no need, Pa. I brought back some money I picked up here an’ there. I’ll have enough for what I need. I won’t even take my horses with me—they’re plumb worn out. I’ll leave them here for Katie and Jim as a wedding present. Two of them are good mounts, the best the Yankee army had to offer. The third one isn’t as good, but he’s serviceable. After a few weeks’ rest, good grazing, and some grain, they’ll be fit and frisky again.” He grinned suddenly. “All three are spoils of war. They’ve got U.S. Army brands. You’d better ask Jim Webber to write you an official letter before he’s discharged, saying you own them legally; then you can give them to him and Katie at the wedding.”