"Of course, Mrs. Cooper, Mrs. Williams. We will do whatever we can. Can you tell me if there are any buildings available that could be turned into refugee quarters?"
Mrs. Williams sniffed. "I do not know about such things. You would have to ask my husband or the other gentlemen in town. And furthermore, these people are your responsibility, not ours."
Charlie looked down for a moment. Something about this woman just plain irritated him. "Well, then, ma’am. We will find a way to take care of them. I will have my quartermaster attend to it as soon as possible."
"See to it, Colonel. See to it." Without further comment, Mrs. Williams urged the horses on, leaving Charlie standing at the side of the road. He shook his head and walked into his office.
Refugees meant more people, more people meant more cots, more blankets, more shoes –– damned shoes, more medicine, more food, more clothing, more space, more firewood, more of everything. He was having enough problems with getting supplies for his own men. But he had promised.
A long letter went out that morning to General Sheridan, explaining the situation. Food he could do at least some things about, such as organizing hunting expeditions into the great forest on the lower slopes of the Blue Ridge. But the rest of the things he would need to care for these people would have to come from supply. Charlie had the mess deliver lunch to his office, and the meeting with his officers was long and querulous that day, as they wrestled with the problems that this would present to their already stretched resources.
By the time late afternoon arrived, Charlie was tired of the demands of command. A quick trip over to the infirmary confirmed that Montgomery was not yet conscious, but was slowly showing signs of returning to the world of the living. Charlie and Elizabeth spoke briefly, both concerned that at the rate of recover, Monty would suffer one of the common ailments of hospitalized people, pneumonia or pleurisy and succumb to that before his head had time to heal sufficiently for him to return to consciousness.
Feeling somewhat overwhelmed, and still dressed in the uniform he had worn to run in so many hours before, Charlie decided to quit early. Anyway, there was nothing more he could do until he heard back from Sheridan.
--*--
C
harlie entered the parlor where Rebecca and Lizbet were going through the chests Rebecca had recently gotten out of storage.
The maid lifted the wedding gown from the chest. "Oh Miss Rebecca, it is beautiful. What should I do with it?"
Rebecca considered the gown. "Just launder it and pack it away. I have no need for it."
"But……"
"Please Lizbet, trust me with this." She smiled and patted the young woman’s arm, before looking up and seeing Charlie in the door. "Colonel, you are finished early today. That is good, I hope." She gave Lizbet a pat on her shoulder to send her on her way.
"The mountain of paperwork was pretty tough today. I think I have a headache just from reading all of the excuses from the Quartermaster General's office." Charlie flopped into a chair in front of the fireplace. "I also had some visitors from town today. There are some serious problems starting to arise because they are getting a constant stream of refugees from some of the areas that are now under siege. We will have to do something about it."
Rebecca slid up behind him and began a firm massage of tight and tired muscles. "Then maybe an early supper then off to bed for a good nights rest? We can worry about other things tomorrow."
He really had not paid much attention to Rebecca's interaction with her maid when he came in, but something was not quite right here. Something in her voice signaled some strain or concern. "Rebecca, dear, what is bothering you?"
"Oh, it is nothing Charlie. Just trying to vanquish some old demons." She took a deep breath and continued to rub his shoulders. "Would you like some tea? I will have Beulah make some fresh for you?"
"I think that tea and some quiet talk would be good for both of us, dear. Old demons are something you and I can dispel together."
"Then take off your boots and get comfortable while I see to it." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.
Charlie pulled his boots off and slipped on the pair of carpet slippers that Rebecca had found for him. He thought carefully on what he had seen as he came in, and remembered the dress. It had been white, with a good bit of lace.
Oh God, it was her wedding dress. I hope she is not regretting her relationship with me, and missing her husband.
Charlie was feeling more than a little nervous, waiting for her return.
Within a few minutes they were seated side by side sipping warm tea and resting, watching the flames in the fireplace. Rebecca glanced to Charlie. "Better? How is your headache?"
"Yes, love. Just being with you is enough to ease my stress."
"I am glad." She reached over and intertwined her fingers with his. "How is winter camp coming? Is everything coming together for the men?"
"You know it is. You want to tell me what has you upset and what you are avoiding, love?"
"I fear you are getting to know me too well. I assure you it is nothing. Simply old memories, but now is not the time to look back. Now is the time to look forward. We have much to plan for when you come home to stay."
"Rebecca, darling, we both have many ghosts in our past. We will have to face many challenges in the future, as well. I think it would serve both of us to find those things that lurk in our memories and expunge them - both for ourselves and for our future." The gentleness of his voice softened the bluntness of his words.
She looked down at her teacup. "It is my husband." She looked to her lover. "I swear to you it is not important anymore, Charlie. I do not know why I let it bother me so."
"Love, if it bothers you, it is important. Tell me. Let us lay that ghost to rest together, dear."
As long as that ghost is around, eventually he will come between us. And I swear, if I can do anything to dispel that, I will.
Yes, certainly, you will, Charlie - the knight on the white horse, displacing the real man with the false one
.
"He hurt me, Charlie." She blurted it out before she had a moment to think about it. Now her biggest fear was that Charlie would view her as damaged goods and want to be as far away from her as possible. She prepared to let him walk out of her life.
Hurt her? He hurt her?
His first reaction was anger. Immediately, he realized that she did not need his anger; she needed his understanding and love. Instead of lashing out, he gathered her in his arms. "I am so sorry, love. I do not know how he hurt you, or even why, but I do know that you could never do anything to deserve to be hurt."
She fought tears that threatened to overwhelm her from Charlie’s tenderness. "Thank you," she whispered.
Charlie braced himself, knowing perfectly well that when anyone had faced a painful and violent situation, talking about it was important. Time and again, he had sat and coaxed stories of pain, and fear and bewilderment out of his men. He could do no less for this gentle woman. "Can you tell me about it, love?"
"I do not know what to tell you, Charlie. It was an arranged marriage; we certainly did not love each other. He was several years older than I was; he made it quite clear from the very beginning that my place in this house was at his pleasure and his leisure. I tried to be a good wife, Charlie, I really did, but very little seemed to please him."
Charlie was very careful. The tone of her voice told him there was much more under these simple statements. "I am so sorry, it sounds like a very lonely and sterile existence. Perhaps if you continue, you will feel better."
She seemed to be thinking back and slowly detaching herself from the present, to pull up those old memories. "He used to decide everything for me, including what I was allowed to eat and wear. One time I spilled something on my day dress and I changed my clothes. When he came in he was furious," She paused, trying to sniff back the tears. "He grabbed me by the arm and took me to the wash room. He ripped the clean dress off me and made me put the other back on……" She stopped, her face twitching and lips quivering with the memory.
The image that came to Charlie's mind was clear. The deceased and not lamented Mr. Gaines clearly tried to control her, and may have enjoyed humiliating her. Charlie was very familiar with such harsh treatment. In fact, Gaines was sounding painfully like his own father after his mother's death. Gently he stroked Rebecca's back. "Its all right, my dear. You are safe now; just let it go. Give the memories to me and together we will put them in the past."
"He……ah……he used to tell me I was worthless and stupid and that I was lucky to have him. That I was fortunate that he took pity on me and married me. That he provided me a home and food and the clothes on my back." She wiped a tear way. "He was furious when I did not give him a child in the first year and that is when it started."
Charlie continued to softly stroke her back. He kept his voice low and neutral and continued to gently probe, trying to give her a safe space to let out all of the pain and all of the shame that went with such treatment. "Love, was it always like this, or did something happen that marked the start of this... harsh behavior?"
"When my father arranged the marriage, I know he thought I would be all right or he never would have done it. But from the very first day, he started telling me how he only married me because my family needed the prestige of being related to the Gaines’. That if he had his choice he would have picked a pretty woman, but I looked good and strong and would be well suited for giving him a son every year. And when I did not, he started drinking and then the beatings started." She gave a little laugh. "My family thought I had become the clumsiest human begin on Earth. I was always having an accident of some type. He told me that if I ever said differently, he would kill me and then say he caught me with a stable hand and did it in a moment of passion."
Strong arms held her gently. If she had broken down and sobbed, it would have been easier, but this flat, almost emotionless discussion, broken only by that little, painful, embarrassed laugh, frightened Charlie beyond words. It suggested that she actually believed the bastard's lies. "Rebecca, look at me, please."
She looked up, tears pooling in her eyes. "I swear, Charlie, I tried to be a good wife to him and I will try for you. I promise." The tears finally gave way and rolled down her cheeks.
Charlie held her gently and yet firmly. "Rebecca, look at me and listen to me very carefully. I want you to know that everything I am going to tell you is the absolute, unflinching truth."
She nodded, that frightened woman who lived in the back of her mind waiting for Charlie to tell her the same things. But her heart told her it could be different. "Yes?"
"To me, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I can get lost in your eyes; I joy in the sight and feel of your hair; your skin is like silk against my hands and lips. You have shown over and over how gentle you are and how caring, for me and for others. I am awed that you have managed to keep your home together as you have, facing the ravages of war alone. I am humbled by your bravery and your courage. The problem is not you, dear. It was never you. It was him."
"I have lived as I was taught by my parents, Charlie. To be kind, to care for others. I have lived by those teachings. I have only done what I need to. I am not special, I just want to love and be loved. I did not think that was wrong. But he made me feel like it was. He made me feel like a worthless whore sometimes. He used to tell me that is what I was when he forced himself on me. That I was nothing more than a brood mare, like the ones we kept in our stables."
Charlie held her close and stroked her hair. "He was wrong, beloved. He was so very, very wrong. There are some people in the world; people who are dead inside and who only feel alive when they can make someone else hurt. That is the only time that they can actually see that they can affect others. I do not understand it, but I have seen this on occasion. It is evil, reprehensible in every way, but it does happen. And these angry, broken people go through life hurting others, just as a rabid dog will lash out and injure anything or any one that gets in their way. I am so sorry that you fell into his hands, my heart. And I am even sadder that you bear the scars of his illness. But it was not your illness, it was his, I promise you."
Charlie cleared his throat and then plunged on - into the area that was hardest for him. "My love, I know what kind of scars someone like that can inflict. I told you about my father, some. How he beat me. What I did not tell you is how he acted for most of my life. When my mother died, I think that something in him died, too. Somehow, he was angry at the whole world, and since he could control me, he took it out on me. Finally, I could take it no more, and so you see me as I am. I chose to give up my identity, everything I was or could be to escape. You had the strength to remain true to yourself and withstand his illness."
"Oh, Charlie, I never would have had your courage. The courage it took to leave and never look back. I do not think you ran way. I think you were very courageous for doing what you did. Had my husband not left and died when he did, I am not sure I would have survived much longer. After Andrew was killed I really did not have a reason any longer." She caressed his cheek and smiled. "But now I think we were brought together from our terrible pasts. We both have so much that makes us different that we understand each other as no one else could. And I promise you that I will spend the rest of my life doing my best to give you the happiness you deserve."
"All you need to do, my dear, is to do your best to be happy for yourself. I love you. I want what is best for you. I will give you everything I can, and everything I am to keep you safe and give you the kind of life you deserve. The next words came like razors over his lips, but he said them anyway. "And if a real man should come into your life who can give you what I cannot, I will let you go to him."