Words Heard in Silence (5 page)

"Colonel Redmond, I offered to share my bed. I asked for your protection because I believe you are a person of unquestionable honor. Therefore, your preferences in companionship are your own business. Now come to bed."

The blonde watched as this strange combination of man and woman before her removed the robe and climbed into the bed. "Umm, do you prefer the right or the left?" Charlie asked before settling in.

"Actually, I have been sleeping alone for so long I have pretty much taken to sleeping in the middle of the bed so you pick a side and I will try to stay on my own." She nodded as she settled down on the right side of the bed. Rebecca joined her from the left side and she had to laugh. "Colonel Redmond, it is all right. You do not have to sleep on the very edge of the bed."

"I want you to have plenty of room, Miss Rebecca."

"And I want you to enjoy sleeping in a big bed and you cannot do that on the very edge, holding on to keep from falling off." She reached out and took Charlie by the shoulder, pulling her back into the bed.

As Charlie rolled over on her back, their faces were only an inch apart. Her eyes were still the most amazing thing Rebecca had ever seen and those lips seemed to have a power all their own. Slowly Rebecca licked her lips as they watched each other. "Charlie,"
I wonder if I sound as breathless as I feel.
"I……unh……I……"

A look of such pain and longing flickered through those sky blue eyes, and then the stern, determined colonel was before her again. "Good night, Miss Rebecca."

C
harlie woke in the middle of the night, a warm and unfamiliar weight against his shoulder. Rebecca had curled herself around him in her sleep, using his body as a warm and safe pillow.

Charlie was careful to stay very still, holding her gently as she slept. He wanted to believe that perhaps this the first time that she had slept soundly, and more importantly, safely, for a long time. Who was he to take that from her?

Saturday, October 29, 1864

C
harlie rose with the first gray light of pre-dawn, carefully sliding his body from beneath hers, and slipping his still warm pillow into her arms to replace the warm shoulder she had been using as the resting place for her head. He had always made a habit of rising before the troops, to be there as they faced the day, and let them know he worked by the same standards he expected from them.

He returned to his command tent, which was a brisk mile walk through the early morning air, and began his morning ritual. It started with a careful and thorough shave. When he first started, it seemed so ridiculous. Why should a woman shave? But it did make a difference. He realized a long time ago that women do have facial hair –– very fine and light, but it is there. So he started shaving; it would not do to have a 35-year-old colonel with peach fuzz on his cheeks. Today, it soothed him, reminded him of his role, put him back into the day-to-day activities of his life that he had followed for the past nineteen years.

Every day, rain or shine, he reviewed and drilled with the boys. In part, he believed it kept them in line –– and in part, it was important to holding command. He had found that regimental commanders who were not connected to their troops had higher casualties than those who were. But that was just the argument he gave the public. It grounded him, reminded him of who he had become and the role he must play every day.

She had shaken his world. Those little traditions helped him return to reality.

Wednesday, November 2, 1864.

H
e reviewed his morning dispatches. General Sheridan had ordered him to find secure winter quarters for his troops, near the rail lines. It was an order he had been expecting for several days. While it was still warm, winter was drawing near. His men had been driven hard. In March, they were ordered east to join with the remnants of the 13th Pennsylvania. Since then, they had faced Jubal Early’s forces several times, as well as engaged in a number of minor skirmishes. It was time to hunker down for the winter and try to recover their strength. He finished the dispatches and orders and then called for Jackson.

"Jocko, I need to do something special for Mrs. Gaines."

"By God, Colonel Charlie! You spend a few nights with the wench and you need to do something special?

"JOCKO!"

"Sir?" Jackson was the picture of military appropriateness, standing at attention.

"I wish to ask Mrs. Gaines for permission to winter over on her property. When I do, I want to show her that the regiment will take care of her while we are here. From the looks of things, it has been extremely hard for her.

"Yes, sir." Jackson maintained his faççade of perfect military demeanor.

Charlie looked at him with no small irritation. He needed Jocko’s help. He was, after all the expert in charming women.

"At ease, Master Sergeant." He could hear the irritation in his Colonel’s voice.

"Sir."

"Jocko, are you going to help me here or do I flap in the breeze all by my self."

"Sir, I am not sure what you mean, Sir."

He sat back in his camp chair and regarded his batman for a long, speculative moment. "Fine. If this is how it must be, then so be it. Sergeant Jackson, would you lay out my dress uniform? I expect your presence in dress uniform this evening to serve us at supper. Please request the mess chief to join me. When you have conveyed the message to Mess Sergeant Jamison, return here. Day dress, ready to deliver an invitation. Dismissed."

"Sir, Yes, Sir." Jackson snapped a crisp salute.

"And Sergeant. When you are ready to talk, send Jocko in."

That did not go as he expected.
I swear you could cut the disapproval in here with a dull butter knife.

He searched his field desk for the finest piece of paper he had for a simple note, an invitation to dinner. In his best hand, the copperplate that was drilled into Charlotte at Mistress Amelia’s School for Girls, he carefully penned the invitation.

At the foot of the back lawn was a lovely pond, complete with willow and small seating area. It was the perfect place for a picnic. Having a regiment of Yankee soldiers take up residence in your home for the winter was not typically a welcome request, so he would have to do what he could to make it more palatable.

As he finished folding and sealing his little note, Mess Sergeant Jamison tapped at the tent pole, requesting entry. Jackson was behind him, still stiff as a board, but clean and fresh to deliver his invitation.

"Come in, Jamison, Jackson. Have a seat, Sergeant." He waved Jamison to the small campstool opposite his desk. Then he turned to Jackson. "Deliver this to Mrs. Gaines, Jackson, and wait for a reply, please." Jocko took the note and set off, still displaying his disapproval by his exacting manners.

Charlie could only shake his head as he returned his attention to Jamison. "I know it is short notice, but I want to prepare a special dinner for Mrs. Gaines; something with a little elegance, to be served outdoors down by the pond. What can you do for me?"

"Well, Colonel. Most of what I have is normal mess food –– beans, rice, salt pork. But one of the men likes to fish. Let me see if he and I can come up with something –– some bass or trout. The streams and ponds around here ought to have something."

"Sounds good to me, you know I like fish. Just do the best you can, Sergeant. And some of my special coffee? A bottle of brandy? Maybe some fresh greens or fruit?"

"I will do the best I can, Colonel."

"Thank you, Sergeant. I have every faith in you."

Charlie spent the time waiting for Jackson to return worrying.

Worrying that Rebecca would not want to see him after last night, when he was almost certain she had awakened in his arms.

Concerned that she would want more than he could give.

Anxious that she would betray him to the men.

Afraid that she would hate him for wanting to winter here.

Apprehensive that she might think he was just using her to give his men a safe haven.

Fretful that she would send him away.

Mostly alarmed about what he would say to her tonight if she accepted his invitation.

R
ebecca watched as the soldier walked purposefully across the main yard, toward the house.
He was a compact, redheaded man, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache and long sideburns. He stopped, squaring his shoulders, then removing his hat and gloves.

"Sergeant Jackson, Ma’am." He offered her a smile and a little salute. "Colonel Redmond has asked that I deliver this to you." He offered her the folded note.

She stepped toward him, taking the letter from his hand, smiling like a schoolgirl. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she read the note.

"Colonel Redmond requested that I wait for an answer, Ma’am."

Rebecca cleared her throat gently, refolding the letter, and then she looked to the sergeant. "You may tell Colonel Redmond I would be delighted to dine with him tonight."

"Thank you Ma’am." Jackson returned his hat to his head, stood at attention and turned on his heal to return to camp.
Eyes as green as Irish clover. No wonder our Colonel is so smitten by her. The lady is charming and very easy on the eyes.

Rebecca smiled to herself as she watched the sergeant walk away. She chewed the inside of her lip, realizing she would have to find something to wear that would be appropriate for dinner with the good Colonel.

Returning to the house, she headed straight for her bedroom. Opening the wardrobe, she looked at what remained of her clothes. They were very out of style, but in reasonable condition. She considered a green dress that had been her brother’s favorite. He always said it set off the color of her eyes. Then her attention turned to a rose colored dress. It was two tones of deep pink and the cut was off the shoulder. It was a little daring, but she pulled the dress from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed.

She looked at the bed. The bed she had been sharing with the Colonel in the nights before. It had been years since she had slept so soundly. When she had awakened that first morning, she had been a touch disappointed to find the Colonel gone. She was more surprised however to find that she was firmly ensconced around the pillow Charlie’s head had rested on. She found a great deal of comfort from holding it and learning the scent that had been left behind. Cuddling Charlie’s pillow had become a morning habit in the past few days.

She shook herself for just a moment, realizing that her thoughts of the Colonel were not exactly proper. He was a Yankee officer, serving with the enemy, and one with a very dangerous secret. A secret that Rebecca would keep, but also one that should keep her from thinking these things about Charlie.

What Rebecca could not understand, was why she was arguing with herself over this issue. She could enjoy the Colonel’s company while the troops camped on her land, but anything more would go against everything she had been taught was proper. Still, she could not help but smile, feeling butterflies in her stomach when her minds eye pictured those piercing blue eyes and that very charming smile.

C
harlie saw Jocko waking toward his tent through the open flap. He had a strange look on his face, one Charlie had never seen before. He looked almost reverent.

"Colonel C?"

"Yes, Jocko."

"I am sorry. I was wrong. She is a true lady."

"Yes, she is, Jocko. So?"

Jocko smiled at the look of anxiety on the Colonel’s face. "Oh, and yes, she would be honored to join you for supper. I will get your dress uniform ready, Colonel. You need a bath."

Charlie thought wistfully of the lovely bathing room, the tub and hot water up at the main house. But for this evening, he must be the Colonel, as right and proper as he knew how to be. For this lady deserved to be treated with dignity and respect. He might sleep with her in his arms tonight.
Please God, let me hold her tonight.
The thought came unbidden to his mind and startled him just a bit with its intensity. But she still deserved all the grace he could give her in the midst of this hell.

Jocko gathered Charlie’s kit and stumped off to clear the bathing area for him. They made it out as an officer’s privilege for privacy. Little did they know. Charlie gave Jocko a few minutes to prepare then he followed.

As Charlie bathed, Jocko set up to shave him again, a soothing ritual and a kindness from Jocko in their little conspiracy of deceit.

Seeing Jocko set up his shaving gear set Charlie off again as he bathed carefully in the cold, clean water of the stream. He realized that he wanted to do more than just ask this woman to shelter them this winter; he wanted to woo her, to charm her. Yet, who was he to woo a woman? A soldier from the enemy side. Eventually, orders would come and he would go off to where he was told, to fight whomever he was told.