Jordan's War - 1861 (17 page)

Chapter 23

Jordan didn’t move
and listened for any voices outside. Ma probably had Willow and Selie with her
in the garden while Jake and Gunner were off doing other chores. He thought
about Gus and which one of the boys he’d be chasing today and was glad it
wasn’t him. He felt worthless just sitting there, but he needed to stay with
Henry.

Henry was not
thrashing as much as he was earlier and he was no longer shivering. Jordan
watched the poultice on his shoulder as it moved up and down with each labored
breathed. It was not as pungent as it was earlier and Grandma always said
that’s when the medicine was working. He leaned over and lifted up the bandage
just a bit and even though the wound looked better than it did when he first
saw it, but it was still gaping and bloody.

He jumped when he
heard voices coming from outside. He peered out the door and saw Grandma and
Jim outside with the soldiers. Jim was with her, standing with a straight back
and even though he looked taller than usual, he still seemed small compared to
the other men.

Jordan crouched
down just inside the door so he could listen to their conversation.

“Did you see us coming
in one of your visions?” Sergeant Hummel asked, in a patronizing voice.

“Don’t take a seer
to know when you boys will come snooping around,” Grandma said and sniffed at
his shirt sleeve. “All you got to do is take a good deep breath. Your stench arrives
at least an hour before you do.”

Sergeant Hummel
took a step backwards. Grandma stepped forward, grabbed his arm and continued
to sniff.

“What are you
doing?” he asked, and threw her hand from his shirt while he took a step
backwards, careful not to take his eyes off her as he brushed at his sleeve
where she had held it.

“Get your hands
off her,” Jim said. “I swear you folks just don’t quit. They ain’t here and no
one knows where they are.”

“You smell of
sickness,” Grandma hissed. “I told you this would come to pass. Are any of your
men sick yet?”

“No, but one was
shot during the escape last night,” Sergeant Hummel said.

“And you think
Finnian had something to do with it?” Jim asked.

“It is most
suspicious.”

“Maybe folks is
just getting tired of you and your boys,” Jim fired back.

“What happened to
the boy inside?” Sergeant Hummel asked, ignoring Jim.

Jordan held his
breath.

“It was an
accident,” Grandma said. “We’re farmers. Accidents happen.”

“That’s what the
boy said,” Sergeant Hummel said. “And I don’t believe either one of you.”

“Did you just come
over here to harass innocent folks?” Jim asked. “Or are you needing something?”

“We came to get
our prisoner,” another soldier said. “And if you’re hiding him, we can arrest
you and seize your land.”

“Those are army
lies,” Grandma said to him and took a step forward. Her tone was scathing and
Jordan was scared for the soldier.

“You’ve had to
been told that cause you don’t look smart enough to read.” She turned her
piercing gaze to the sergeant. “Well, you’ve seen everyone that is here.”

“We’ll be posting
someone here,” Sergeant Hummel said. “Just in case they return.”

“You do that,” Jim
said. “You ain’t going to find nothing.”

“Private, you
stand post on the turnpike,” Sergeant Hummel said. “I’ll be along shortly.”

“Yes sir,” the
soldier said and hurried off to get his horse.

“Miss Abigail,”
Sergeant Hummel said. “I need to have a word with you.”

“Go ahead,” she
said, and motioned for Sergeant Hummel to come inside through the front door to
where Henry lay on the davenport.

“Alone.”

Grandma gave Jim
the shoo-eye and he limped off around the side of the house and towards the
back door into the kitchen, where Jordan had gone to hide and listen. Jordan
opened the door when he saw Jim coming and helped him up the crooked steps. 

“Have a seat,”
Grandma said, and offered Sergeant Hummel Finnian’s usual chair by the
fireplace. She took another seat directly across from him.

“Can you hear from
here?” Jim whispered.

“Yes. And they’ll
hear us if you don’t be quiet.”

Jim nodded.

Sergeant Hummel
looked uncomfortable and kept crossing and uncrossing his legs.

“You want medicine
for your injured soldier,” she said.

He nodded.

“What are you
going to give me?” Grandma asked.

“He’s my nephew,
from Monroe County,” Sergeant Hummel said. “He’s only eighteen. His ma told me
to take care of him. He has a wound in the leg. It’s only a flesh wound but
it’s swelling up pretty bad. I’m afraid to move him.”

“What are you
going to give me?” Grandma asked again.

“What do you want?”

“I want you and
your devil soldiers to leave me and my family alone,” she said.

“I . . .” he
began. “I can’t do that. The reports have been dispatched to Lewisburg. Your
grandson is a wanted man.”

“Then your nephew
is a dead man,” she said. “I could stop the infection though.”

“There’s nothing I
can do,” he said and stared at the floor.

Jordan expected
the sergeant to get up and leave, but he stayed seated. Not even birdsong
interrupted the uncomfortable silence.

“I haven’t sent
the reports about last night’s incident,” Sergeant Hummel said. “I can’t give
you the boy but I can minimize the trouble for his pa.”

“I see,” she said.
“What else?”

“Good God woman!”
he shouted and stood up. “What more do you want?”

“I don’t want
anything else,” she said, and grinned. “I was just seeing if you had anything
else to offer. I have your word that Finnian will not be touched by Home Guard.
But I do believe you want something else.”

“I should have
known,” Sergeant Hummel said and sat back down. He reached into his breast
pocket, pulled out a metal photo and handed it to her.

“Your wife?”

“She was with
child when I left,” he said. “It should have been born by now.”

Grandma took the
picture and ran her finger over the image of the happy young woman. She closed
her eyes and leaned her head back.

“I see sadness,”
she said at last. “Her heart aches and she is alone.”

“Well, I
am
gone,” he said. “Is there a child or not?”

“There is a child,
an infant, with her,” Grandma said. “She is tired and the baby cries. She has
no one to help her.”

“She has her
mother with her,” Sergeant Hummel said.

“She is alone,”
Grandma said.

“Oh dear God!”
Sergeant Hummel said, and bowed his head. “The old woman hadn’t been well.”

“I see a flicker
of hope in her eyes,” Grandma said. “She is a strong woman, Sergeant. She fears
for you.”

The child. . . ,”
he started. “Is it a boy or a girl.”

“I cannot see,”
Grandma said. “But there is an infant.”

Sergeant Hummel
stood up and adjusted his hat.

“Thank you kindly
Miss Abigail,” he said and turned towards the steps.

“Jordan!” Grandma
called. “Bring me my bag and get one of Henry’s wraps out of the kettle.”

Jordan jumped when
she hollered and it was like she knew he was listening. Of course she knew.

He hurried to
stove and carefully pulled a smelly rag out of the dark brown water, wrapping
it a dry rag he found on the table. There was no need to wring it out because
the less he touched it, the better as far as his grandma was concerned. Her bag
was open by the pantry door and he picked it up on his way into the front room.

“Is the bullet
still in him?”

“What?” Sergeant
Hummel asked after he stopped walking. His mind seemed a million miles away.

“Your nephew. Is
the bullet still in him?”

“No. It went clean
through his thigh. He’s in a lot of pain, but I think the bullet missed the
bone completely.”

“This is for him,”
she said, and pulled some dried leaves out of a small glass jar. “Brew this
into a tea and have him drink it at least three times a day. Keep this poultice
on his wound. Come back in two days if it don’t get better. I’m too old to
leave this mountain, but my granddaughter can help.”

“Much obliged Miss
Abigail,” Sergeant Hummel said.

They watched him
ride down the path and out of sight.

“Jordan,” Grandma
said. “You’d better head over to Tate’s and make sure everything’s locked and
the livestock is fed. No telling where he and Finnian are.”

“Yes ma’am,”
Jordan said.

“I’ll walk with
you,” Jim said.

“Are you sure?”
Jordan asked.

“A walk will do
you good,” Grandma said.

Chapter 24

The sun was high
in the sky and the wind was non-existent. Jordan was at least ten steps ahead
of Jim as they walked down the path to Tate’s house, even though he tried to
walk slower than usual. Jim didn’t seem to mind though. This was the first time
he’d ventured this far from the house since he arrived.

Jordan leaned
against a tree trunk and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Do you need to
rest?” he called out. He couldn’t see Jim through the foliage but he could hear
his footsteps crashing on the forest floor.

“No, but you could
slow down just a tad,” Jim hollered back. “This ain’t no race.”

At last Jim
cleared the last of the low-hanging branches and walked over to Jordan.

“How much
farther?” he asked as he sat down on a log.

“It’s just over
yonder,” Jordan said. “You can stay here if you want. It won’t take me very
long to feed.”

“Leave me out here
for Home Guard target practice?” Jim asked. His blue eyes were huge. “No, I’ll
just come with you.”

They traipsed
through the low weeds at the edge of the forest and into the clearing where
Uncle Tate’s sheep grazed in the fields. Jordan could see curtains moving
through an open upstairs window and it looked like only the screen door was
closed. He could see inside to the kitchen.

“They must have
left in a hurry,” Jordan said. “I think they left the door wide open.”

“I thought Tate’s
wife died,” Jim said.

“She did.”

“Sure does look
like a woman’s been living here.”

“Why do you say
that?”

“Well,
everything’s all picked up,” Jim said. “I’ve known Tate since we was kids and
he never picked up after himself.”

“Henry probably
did it,” Jordan reasoned.

“Okay then,” Jim
said. “I’ll bet the front porch is swept. And the rug is clean.”

“Maybe Uncle
Tate’s home,” Jordan said and then hoped he wasn’t. That would pose the question
of Pa and Eamon’s whereabouts.

“Let’s go knock on
the door,” Jim said.

“Nobody’s here!”
Jordan hollered. “Let’s go check on the cows and feed the chickens. The sheep
look fine. We’ll lock everything up and go home.”

Jordan took a
quick glance at the front porch as they passed. He couldn’t tell if the rug had
been beat recently, but the porch was indeed swept clean. The little hairs on
the back of his neck stood on edge and sweat dripped down his forehead.

“See,” Jim said.
“I told you.”

“Ain’t nothing,”
Jordan said and swallowed hard. “Henry probably swept it yesterday. There ain’t
been no wind. When we get home, we can ask him.”

“I think I’m just
going to sit here on the porch and wait for you,” Jim said. “That walk was
farther than I remember.”

“Okay,” Jordan
said. “It won’t take long. There’s a well around back if you’re thirsty.”

Jordan sauntered
down the path to the barn. He climbed up on the fence and peered out over the
herd. They looked fed. He went back to the chicken house and saw corn still scattered
on the ground from an earlier feeding. He went inside and grabbed another
handful of corn just in case the chickens were hungry. They strutted over and
pecked at the ground, but it wasn’t the feeding frenzy of famished birds that
he expected.

That didn’t take
any time at all, he thought as he headed back to the house. They’d leave right
after he locked up the house and be home in time to help with supper.

He spotted Jim
sitting in the rocking chair on the porch. He wasn’t rocking though and he looked
a little stiff.

“Jim!” Jordan
shouted. “Are you alright?”

Jim didn’t answer
even though he seemed to be staring right at Jordan. His face looked a little
pale and his fingers were wrapped around the arm of the chair like hawk talons
on a dead rabbit.

“What’s the
matter?” Jordan hollered. “You sick?”

Jim didn’t answer
but as Jordan came closer, he could see him blink his eyes. Well at least he
ain’t dead. Why won’t he say nothing?

Click. Jordan
heard the sound of a gun cock.

“Stay where you
are,” a voice called from inside the house.

Jordan stopped
mid-stride put his hands up.

Who’s in there?”
he asked and tried to peer past the shadows inside.

The front door
opened.

It was Sissy Mae
Wheeler! And she was toting a gun as big as she was. Had she been here all this
time? Jordan looked at her stomach and it was beginning to poke out just a
little.

“What are you
doing over here?” she asked. “Where’s Tate and Henry. They didn’t come home
last night. What did you do with them?”

“Put the gun
down,” Jordan said.

“Who’s he,” she
asked and pointed the gun barrel at Jim.

“He’s our cousin,”
Jordan said. “Please put the gun down Sissy Mae.”

Sissy put the gun
barrel to the floor, but it was apparent she wasn’t ready to let go of it yet.

Jordan walked to
the porch and plopped down on the steps.

“You alright?” he
asked Jim.

“I’m fine,” Jim
said in a raspy voice. “Ma’am can you point me to the outhouse?”

Sissy Mae pointed
at the shanty, just beyond the grain shed. Jim got up, leaned on Jordan as he
descended the steps and hurried off down the path.

“So, what are you
doing over here?” Sissy Mae asked.

“Grandma told me
to come over and check on the place,” Jordan said.

“Old witch
probably sent you over here to steal something,” Sissy Mae scoffed.

“Ain’t nothing
here that we don’t already have,” Jordan retorted.

“Where’s Tate and
Henry?” she asked.

“I don’t know,”
Jordan answered.

“They didn’t come
home last night,” she said. “Rode out of here just after Reverend Summey came
and told us about Eamon. Old widow Sharp came by this morning for her milk and
was talking all crazy.”

“What was she
talking about?”

“I don’t know,”
Sissy Mae said. “I never could understand that woman. Something about gunfire
in the valley.”

“What’d Reverend
Summey say?”

“Said Home Guard
arrested Eamon for being a spy,” she said and smiled. “Watch out because you’ll
be next. Everybody knows whose side you’re on.”

“Why you being so
hateful?” Jordan asked. “We ain’t done nothing to you.”

“Nobody ever
thinks they do anything to anybody,” she said and rolled her eyes. “But they
do.”

“You’re stupid,”
Jordan said and stood up. “I’m leaving.”

Sissy Mae pointed
the gun at Jordan.

“You better not
move,” Sissy Mae said. “You’re trespassing and there ain’t no law against
shooting trespassers.”

“You ain’t shooting
nobody,” Jordan said. “You probably don’t know how to even work the dang
thing.”

Sissy Mae must
have put too much pressure on the trigger. The gun fired and the tiny girl flew
backwards into the wall and the shotgun crashed to the ground, spraying buckshot
all over. Jordan checked himself to make sure he wasn’t hit and ran back
towards the meadow.

Jim came running
from the outhouse, holding up his pants and trying to tie the twine around his
waist all at the same time.

“What happened?”
Jim hollered.

“Dang girl with a
gun!” Jordan said.

Jim stopped beside
Jordan and they both looked at Sissy Mae. She was sprawled out on the porch.
Her eyes were opened when she seemed dazed.

“Should we help
her?” Jim whispered.

“No,” Jordan said.
“She might try to shoot us again.”

Sissy Mae sat up
and leaned against the wall, holding her stomach and gasping for air.

“You think she’s
alright?” Jim asked.

“She don’t look
hurt,” Jordan said.

“I’ll beat you
back to the house,” Jim said and took off as fast as he could towards the
forest.

Jordan held onto
his hat and raced off after him.