Words Heard in Silence (106 page)

Charlie felt very proud of himself. He had started his daughter on the path of experimentation. Then it started again.

"Papa? Why are rocks hard?"

Charlie’s shoulders slumped. Then he had an inspiration. It was almost lunchtime. "Let us go ask your Mama."

Rebecca stood at the window of the back parlor and watched her oldest child and husband make their way up the lawn. Em was grubby, as she often was lately. That child could and would get into anything and everything. Keeping her grubby fingers out of her mouth was a major challenge. Charlie walked along steadily, leaning on one crutch to support his weight. Soon, she thought, he would graduate to a cane for good.

The child was cautious not to knock her father’s crutch away –– that had happened once and the results had been very messy all around. Charlie had been in agony, Em had been frightened that she had hurt her Papa, and Puppy Papa, who followed Em everywhere, had cowered under the davenport for most of the day.

Rebecca went downstairs to meet them by the winter kitchen. While most of the food was now being prepared in the summer kitchen to minimize the heat in the main house, a small fire was kept going there to keep the water tank warm. "My stars, you two are both a mess. Come in here and get cleaned up." She led them into the mudroom off to the side of the kitchen and worked away at the more muddy sections of Em’s robust little body –– hands, arms, face, and feet. "Keeping you in shoes is impossible, little one. What did you do with them this time?"

"Papa’s office," the child mumbled as her face was briskly wiped down with a warm washcloth.

"Charlie Redmond. I swear, you encourage her to go barefoot."

Charlie looked not at all abashed. "Well, dear, I would have liked to when I was her age, so what is the harm?"

"Charlie, no proper lady goes barefoot, even if she is just two."

"Two and fouw mons, Mama." Em had continued her efforts in learning to count. She counted everything she could, including her own age. Every morning, she asked Tess to tell her how old she was –– in months. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have asked how old she was in days. She understood days. Months were just lots of days to her.

"Then at nearly three, you should most definitely be wearing shoes."

Em looked to Charlie and then to Rebecca. "Yes, Mama."

Rebecca took Em’s rock and placed it off to the side while she washed her hands.

"Mama, that Em rock!" The child protested, reaching for it.

"Yes, and you can have it back after lunch, but for now you are clean and I would like you to stay that way while we eat."

"Yes, Mama."

Rebecca lifted the child from the sink and turned to Charlie, whose hands were also filthy. "You too, General Redmond. Time to clean up for lunch."

"Yes, Mama." He grinned, moving to the sink, where he got snapped on the good side of his bottom with a towel.

E
m had been taken away for her nap right after lunch. Charlie and Rebecca were enjoying coffee in the dining room when Reg showed Richard and Elizabeth in. Richard looked exhausted and Elizabeth had an arm full of cloth swatches. Charlie rolled his eyes and wondered how quickly he could find an excuse for the men to vacate the room.

They joined Charlie and Rebecca at the table, and immediately the ladies began talking fabric choices for Elizabeth’s wedding dress. Richard poured a cup of coffee and then pulled something from his pocket and laid it on the table near Charlie. "Young Jeremiah asked me to give this to you. Seems the boy has found a natural talent for working with leather and he said he heard you and Duncan talking about your desire to have one."

Charlie picked up what turned out to be a glove crafted from soft black leather. It was made for his right hand, to help cover the scars. He looked at it and smiled before slipping it on. "It is a perfect fit. How did he do it?"

"He used a pair of your cavalry gloves as a pattern and with a little guidance from Elizabeth about your injury, he fashioned it."

"That was very nice of him. I will have to thank him for that and offer him the position of chief glove maker."

Richard looked over to Elizabeth and Rebecca who were in serious wedding mode. "I just keep telling myself it will be over in two weeks."

"It is the best thing you will ever do." Charlie smiled. "Next to becoming a father."

Richard smiled. "You know, I never thought about me being a father, but watching you with little Em and now with the two babies, I think I just might enjoy it. I even enjoyed taking care of her while you and Rebecca were in Washington."

"So, have you two decided if we are to do the military routine for the wedding?"

"Yes, particularly since she has some retired General coming down to give her away. It is a shame her parents moved back to England. I think they would love to see their daughter wed."

"The would. However, I believe an old friend of her father’s has consent to give her away." Charlie sighed. "I will have to figure out how to make my dress uniform look at least presentable on this new body of mine." He sipped his coffee and then said slyly, "You know, Elizabeth told me her family never expected her to marry when she went to Medical School. They told her that no man in his right mind would want to marry a woman with a career."

Richard laughed. "And who said I was in my right mind? I served as your executive officer for how many years?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "And that was a symptom of your basic insanity? I would say your willingness to participate in all of this wedding planning is far more indicative of your mental health, or lack of it."

Both men looked over at the ladies, who were discussing the difference between three different lace swatches. For the life of them, neither Charlie nor Richard could see any difference at all between them.

"Shall we go out on the porch for a smoke and escape this hotbed of feminine plotting and planning?"

"Certainly. I always like getting my hands on your cigars. Where do you get them from, Charlie?"

"A tobacconist in Washington brings them in from Cuba for me. All you have to do is be willing to pay the price for them –– and know who to ask."

The two men adjourned to the back porch, enjoying the soft breeze from the mountains in the early summer heat.

For a few minutes, the men just smoked quietly, each enjoying the mild weather. Then Charlie asked, "So, are you going to run for office when you retire?"

"I have been thinking seriously about it. It would mean I would have to spend some time in Richmond, but I know you and Rebecca will make sure Elizabeth does not fade away for lack of company."

"We will certainly look after her when you are gone –– as much as she will let us. How goes the house?"

"It will be finished before the wedding, or so I am told. I do hope so; it will be nice to carry my lady across the threshold. Though I doubt she will allow me to do as dramatic a version of it as you did, my friend. My Elizabeth is far more pragmatic than romantic, I fear."

"Well, it will not be the same anyway, since your wedding feast is here, not at your new house."

"She got a telegram from Phil Sheridan the other day, saying he was coming down for the wedding and bringing something for her with him. Do you know anything about it?"

Charlie grinned. "I have an idea, but I think I would rather let General Sheridan confirm it rather than raise any expectations."

"Speaking of expectations, how goes the bank idea?"

"Cooke and I have been corresponding. Since I have at least a reasonable percentage of capital to invest personally, I am cautiously optimistic that we will have a bank here before the end of the year."

At that moment, Rebecca’s head emerged through the rear doors. "Charlie, Richard, could you come in and look at this for a moment. Elizabeth and I cannot decide between the eggshell or the off-white linen."

Both men groaned and dutifully entered the parlor to look at two pieces of linen that looked to them, almost exactly identical.

Sheridan’s train arrived on time, a novel experience given the continued disruption as Virginia attempted to transition from wartime to peacetime business. Richard met him and escorted him to the waiting carriage.

"So, Polk. Ready to commit yourself?"

"Yes, sir. I told you I wanted to marry her and I have kept my part of the bargain."

"So you did, Sir, so you did. I must confess, as witness to the event, it was the oddest proposal I have ever seen a man make. But I am honored to be here."

They rode in silence for a while, Sheridan happily chewing on his cigar and enjoying the fact that the land once again looked tended. Charlie’s influence was bringing Culpeper back from the devastation of the war more quickly than he had expected.

"Oh, by the way, Polk. Is Dr. Walker at the house? I have a little something for her she may enjoy receiving –– totally separate from the wedding, of course."

"Yes, sir. I believe you will see her at supper."

"Good, good. And is there a gentleman’s event this evening?"

"Well, nothing like what we did for Redmond, but yes, I believe some of the local men have plans for us tonight. Redmond’s batman, Jackson and his old mess sergeant, Jamison, have opened an inn on the south side of town. I believe we are expected to join them this evening."

"Well, good. I can use a glass or two of Jocko’s rum punch."

Supper that night was quietly celebratory. The plans for tomorrow’s wedding were all laid; guests had arrived and been appropriately housed, Sarah was looking pleased with the plans for the meal and all seemed to be in order.

As supper was ending, Sheridan looked at Elizabeth, his old friend, and grinned. "It will be very strange to call you Doctor Polk after so long, my dear."

"Well, you do not have to. I am planning to retain my own name, thank you."

Sheridan’s eyebrows rose at that announcement. It was unheard of. But then, many of the things Elizabeth Walker did were unheard of. "So, Polk, how do you feel about this…… break from tradition?"

"I expected it, actually. Elizabeth is now and always has been one of the most stubborn women I know. Fortunately, I like stubborn women."

A laugh went around the table, with Polk blushing and Elizabeth looking mildly offended.

Charlie cleared his throat and, looking around the table, announced, "Well, ladies and gentlemen, it appears we are finished with dinner. I believe it is time for us to leave the fairer sex to their evening."

"One moment, Redmond." Sheridan stood at his place at the table. "I have a small item for Dr. Walker." He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew an official looking document and a slim, elegant box. He unfolded the paper and read:

Sheridan folded the document, and opened the case. In it was the medal, struck of solid gold and suspended from a fine blue satin ribbon. "May I, Doctor Walker?"

Elizabeth was torn between blushing and beaming. "By all means, General Sheridan." She stood as he placed the ribbon around her neck and then he softly kissed her on the cheek. She sat and softly stroked the medal, looking rather stunned.

Charlie stood. "To my friend, my physician, and my savior, for without her, I would not be here today to make this toast and see her wed on the morrow. Many more men than I can count also owe her their lives. I give you Doctor Elizabeth Walker."

The rest of the people at the table stood and joined Charlie. "Dr. Walker!"

The gentleman had gone off to their own celebration and the ladies adjourned to the rear parlor for their own festivities where they were joined by Mrs. Carter, Mrs. Cooper, and Mrs. White. The men would be more in number, but Rebecca was sure the ladies would have just as good a time.

Sarah had laid out a very nice table of refreshments. Rebecca was peering into the bowl of punch, which had been set in the center of the table. Elizabeth joined her, looking in after her to see what was so fascinating. "What are you doing?"

"I think it is missing something."

Elizabeth ladled up a small cup and tasted it. "No, I think it is lovely, very fruity and refreshing."