The Quaker and the Rebel (44 page)

“Mrs. Howard,” said an astonished Reverend Bennett. “What brings you back so soon? I told you to stay indoors today—”

“May I come in, sir? And perhaps trouble you for a glass of water?” Madeline leaned against the door frame.

“Forgive me, my dear. Come in. Rest in the parlor while I get you something to drink.”

Maddy slumped onto a dainty embroidered chair and closed her eyes. The minister returned within a few minutes with a glass, a pitcher of chilled well water, and plate of gingerbread.

“Thank you.” She filled the glass, drank it down, and refilled it. “I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. If I may, I would like to borrow one of your horses. I have business in Gettysburg.” She pressed the glass to her forehead.

“Of course you may. But why not ride one of your fine Morgans?” Reverend Bennett pushed the plate of cookies closer.

“They were stolen. That is my business down the road.”

His face blanched with anxiety. “Goodness! That’s awful, but you must not endanger your life because of horses. Soldiers are fighting down the road. There is a battle right here in Adams County.” He whispered as though the enemy might lurk nearby.

Madeline straightened in the chair. “Those Morgans are all I have left. Please, Reverend, I’ve never asked you for anything before. I promise to return your horse safely.”

“I cannot refuse you, Mrs. Howard, although I strongly advise against pursuing this. I will saddle my gelding once the sound of artillery ceases.” He lifted his hand to forestall argument. “You must wait. I won’t permit you to blunder into the fray. Rest for a few hours and refresh yourself. You can leave as soon as it’s quiet. It should be cooler by then too.” He pointed at the settee and left the room before she could object.

Madeline sat quietly for several minutes. Then she devoured the plate of gingerbread and reclined on the couch. She’d intended to close her eyes for a just short while, but she awoke hours later to someone shaking her arm.

“My horse is saddled. Go with God, Mrs. Howard. I will pray for your safe return.”

Mumbling her thanks, Maddy went out the back door and swung up in the saddle. The sun was already low in the western sky. She reached the Chambersburg Pike within minutes at a gallop and then slowed her pace. At the outskirts of Gettysburg, she had no difficulty locating the headquarters of the second corps. Her spirits lifted when she spotted a beehive of activity surrounding the vacated farmhouse. Confusion might allow her to enter unnoticed. Maddy sucked in a breath, set her jaw, and rode into the fenced yard, stopping at the hitching post.

A stout lieutenant shouldered his rifle and grabbed the gelding’s bridle. “Hold up, miss. The Martins no longer live here. This here’s army property now.”

“I’m well aware of that. I have business with General Downing. He’s expecting me.” She didn’t like lying to the man, but she was feeling desperate. Madeline slid from the horse and marched up the front walk, leaving the lieutenant still holding her bridle. Determination got her as far as the open doorway.

Then the same wiry, arrogant major she’d met in her flower garden blocked her path. “I cannot allow you to enter, madam. State your business to me.” He spoke with obvious disdain for the intrusion.

“My business is that someone in this corps is a horse thief. My brood mares were stolen last night, and I expect redress from your commander.”

“If it’s financial restitution you seek, that is a matter for the quartermaster. You’ll not be troubling the general with—”

“It’s not money I’m interested in, sir,” interrupted Maddy. “I want my property returned.” She fought to control her voice as her courage flagged. Then the door swung open, startling woman and aide alike.

General Downing appeared as shocked to see her as the minister had been. “Mrs. Howard! Come in. I consider your visit a propitious omen.” He turned toward his staff member. “It’s all right, Major. I will spare a moment to settle a civilian injustice.” He stepped to the side so
that she could enter. Then he closed the door in the astonished officer’s face.

In an austere room smelling faintly of tobacco, Maddy’s waning confidence vanished in a heartbeat. “You may not be pleased to see me once you hear me out.” She tucked several loose wisps of hair behind her ear. “All of my horses were stolen from my barn last night while
Union
troops were moving through Cashtown.” She paused to moisten her dry lips. “From my window I saw blue uniforms on the thieves. I can only surmise they were your soldiers.” Surreptitiously she glanced at the maps and drawings spread across the desk.

The general appeared to choose his words carefully. “‘Thief’ is a harsh word that some might consider treasonous. Considering your husband died fighting for this great nation, would you deny the army desperately needed replacement mounts? Our officers and cavalry require horses.” He dropped his voice to a murmur. “Today, there was a cavalry battle east of Gettysburg. Many good men died on the field. Many horses were lost as well. Everyone must make sacrifices in times of war.”

Madeline’s stomach churned, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I pray that the Union army prevailed on the field.” She swallowed hard and continued with far less zeal. “I understand your predicament, General, but those horses are my livelihood. Without them, I will have to throw myself on the mercy of friends and neighbors this winter. But beyond my selfish desire to survive, I respectfully request that
one
of those horses be returned. Bo is a medium-sized, brown Morgan with a distinctive white blaze down her face. She was bred from the best blood-lines in Pennsylvania. I hand-raised and trained her myself. You may keep the others as my contribution to the war, but not…not Bo…” Maddy’s voice trailed off as she willed herself not to cry.

The general reflected for a long moment. “If you will make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be a minute.” He pointed at a chair and closed the office door behind him.

Madeline strained to hear through the solid maple, but the
commotion outdoors masked all but the intensity of his discussion with the major. She inhaled a breath to steady her nerves and perched on the edge of the straight-backed chair.

What an effect this man had on her. She felt as skittish as she had during her brief courtship with Tobias. Never had she been affected by a man’s looks, yet her attraction to him was undeniable. Tall and broad shouldered, the general had thick dark hair that curled over his jacket collar. So dark they were almost black, his eyes transfixed a person with their intensity. He wore a meticulously neat uniform that was distinguished but with none of the flashy gold tassels seen in daguerreotypes. Yes, he was handsome, but his appeal stretched beyond physical attributes. He possessed some unseen quality—a magnetism that drew her like bees to nectar.

And she didn’t like that one bit.

Maddy’s woolgathering was abruptly curtailed. “What have you learned?” she asked as soon as the door swung open.

He crossed the room in a few strides. “I’ve sent word to the cavalry commander with my chief-of-staff. When the situation and time permits, he is to look into last night’s
unauthorized
acquisition of civilian livestock, specifically for the horse you described. I cannot promise, but you have my word I will do my best to find Bo.” He bowed from the waist as though they had just been introduced socially.

Madeline leaned back from his close proximity. “Thank you, General. I’m sure your best will be more than adequate. It’s truly more than I expected. Good day.” In her haste to leave she knocked over the chair she’d been sitting in. She should have paused to pick it up. Then she might have recovered enough composure to make a graceful exit. But when she noticed the deep wrinkles around his eyes and the smile tugging at his lips, she fled the room like a startled rabbit.

He is laughing at my clumsiness!

The lieutenant was still holding Reverend Bennett’s horse when she reached the porch. Maddy crossed the dusty yard, mounted, and rode toward home as though the entire Rebel cavalry was breathing down her neck.

James Downing had seen pain and suffering without measure during the past two years. He had witnessed deprivations of every sort in both civilians and soldiers alike. Yet something in Mrs. Howard’s tender plea for a beloved horse tore at his soul. From his window he watched her disappear into a cloud of dust on the road with her bonnet ribbons streaming behind her. His intrigue with the perplexing woman went beyond a pretty face and comely figure. Was it small-town living that had preserved her sincerity and innocence? Why else would she worry about ruined flowers when the eastern theater of war had arrived at her doorstep? Yet she possessed enough spunk to ride into chaos to rectify an injustice.

He allowed himself one long moment to stare after her before turning back to his duties.
Great Scot, did I just agree to find a blasted horse in the middle of an engagement?
But before he slept that night he would endeavor to keep his promise. If he had it to do over, he would agree to that and more. The realization that Mrs. Howard had such power over him didn’t sit well. Closing his eyes, his brain etched a picture of her face to carry into battle tomorrow. With creamy skin dusted with freckles, wavy hair the color of ripe wheat, and green eyes that flashed in amusement or pique, Madeline Howard would be a hard woman to forget. He’d been smitten the first time he saw her on the road to Cashtown and would remember her long after he moved his corps to the next battlefront.

Her long limbs had moved gracefully beneath the cotton dress in her woebegone garden. Considering the fierce look on her face, his staff thought they had met the enemy sooner than anticipated. Never in his life had an upbraiding been so pleasurable. The moment she marched from her house, he lost his entire train of thought, having no idea what they had been discussing. And when he glanced back over his shoulder, he thought the window curtains had parted an inch. Had Mrs. Howard been peeking from between the lace panels? If he thought so enchanting a woman could be interested in him, he had indeed gone mad.

There was a surreal quality in the air before a battle. The din of the afternoon had mercifully yielded to an unholy quiet that evening. The common sounds of crickets and tree-frogs failed to calm Maddy, but instead added to her trepidation of what the morrow would bring. She barely touched her dinner. She completed her chores in a dreamlike state and headed to the porch to read her Bible. Tobias’s squirrel rifle, leaning against the post, offered little security. She had just settled into her favorite rocker when the distinctive sound of a sliding latch gripped her heart.

What on earth? There is nothing left in the barn to steal.

“Who’s there?” she called into the dark. “Identify yourself or I’ll shoot.” She lifted the single-shot musket to her shoulder. Moments passed interminably until a familiar face stepped into the circle of light from the kitchen window.

“Please don’t shoot. It’s me, Mrs. Howard.” General Downing pulled off his hat. “I returned your horse to the barn. You’ll not be troubled by future procurements.” Fumbling with his hat brim, he looked more like a schoolboy instead of the highest commander of an army corps.

“Thank you, General. I’m deeply grateful for the return of Bo, but I was very selfish to make such a demand on a day like this. Forgive me.” Setting down the gun, she extended her hand over the porch rail.

He walked up the steps and shook briefly. “You’re welcome. It’s true that my adjutant thought me mad to trifle with such an errand, but if the horse was to be found, it had to be tonight. Tomorrow will bring a different world than the one we know today.” He walked to the end of the porch and peered into her trampled flower garden.