As she drew closer, she took in Charlie’s disheveled appearance and the bloodshot look of his eyes. "Ah, I see. Had a good time last night, did you, Sir?"
Charlie nodded dumbly and took the coffee mug from her. He cradled it to his chest, willing it to cool enough for him to drink.
"You got a bit of a head there, Sir?"
Charlie nodded carefully. Right now, any movement hurt.
"Well, Sir, come and sit at the table and I will fix you right up. You know, my old master had a taste for the grape and he swore by my cure. Or perhaps he swore at my cure. Whichever, it works."
Sarah continued to chat and bustle around as she prepared a concoction for Charlie’s head. She broke two eggs into a tall glass, added some Worcestershire sauce, a touch of bottled Hell, which was her own distillation of hot peppers, some sassafras root, some ground willow bark, some benne oil, and a shot of cooking brandy. She vigorously shook the miserable concoction, so that it was a viscous, brown mess and set it in front of Charlie. "Drink it down. I know it looks horrible, but it does the trick, General C."
Charlie looked at the mixture in the glass and almost lost whatever was in his stomach. However, he manfully closed his eyes, screwed up his face, and gulped down the contents of the glass. As soon as it was down, he grabbed for his coffee cup. He needed something, anything to wash that filthy taste out of his mouth.
Sarah set a glass of water in front of him. "Here. You need more fluid. Give it half an hour and you will be right as rain."
Charlie dutifully drank the water and thanked Sarah. He made a mental note to himself never to get drunk again if this was the only cure.
--*--
C
harlie was feeling somewhat better an hour later when a small form, who had recently learned how to turn doorknobs, burst into his office, wearing her night dress and dragging her doll behind her.
"Papa. Morning, Papa. Tess say you have bweakfas’ here. So Em come here."
"Well, good morning, little one. I see that at least one of the women in this house remembered me." Charlie scooped the little girl up and set her on his lap. "So, how are you this morning?
"Em good. See Papa. Web say Em good." Em held up the doll that Charlie had brought her from Washington, who she had, after serious thought, named Reb, after Rebecca because she thought the doll looked like Mama Becca. Unfortunately, Em had not yet mastered the ‘‘r’ sound.
"Papa. Em hungy."
"Let me go get us some breakfast, little one."
Charlie set the child on the sofa, admonishing her to not touch anything on Papa’s desk and wandered over to the kitchen for a couple of bowls of hot cereal. Sarah ladled up two bowls of cornmeal mush and drizzled honey on them.
"Gen’l Charlie?" Reg came in lugging hot water buckets, having just finished filling Rebecca’s bath.
"Yes, Reg?"
"When do you want your bath drawn? And do you want a tub down in your office?"
"Well, I suppose it depends on when Miss Rebecca is leaving. I think I will bathe just after she leaves upstairs, if you can manage it?"
"Yes, sir. The washing room or your room?"
"My room, I think. That will leave the wash room open for other folks."
"Yes, sir."
Charlie returned to his office, where he and Em had a quiet breakfast together. Tess came looking for the little girl shortly after she finished. "General Charlie, I have been looking all over the house for this little imp. I went to her room to get her for breakfast and she was gone."
Em looked abashed. She had gotten herself up and went to her Papa. Tess would have fussed over her and made her put on clothes before she got her breakfast. Papa let her eat in her nightgown.
--*--
J
ocko appeared shortly after Tess had swept Em away to bathe and dress the little scamp. Keeping the child clean until the wedding was going to be a challenge –– she was having one of her playful days when very little would stop her from doing what she wanted. Charlie had heard friends who had young children talk about the "terrible twos." Em was giving new meaning to that concept.
"Good morning, Charlie. I hear you needed Sarah’s cure this morning."
Charlie grunted and nodded. Sarah’s cure was not high on his list of popular conversation topics for the day.
"Miss Rebecca left for Mrs. Cooper’s house a few minutes ago."
Charlie perked up. "How did she look? Was she rested? I was worried about her yesterday, she looked so…… lost."
Jocko chuckled, "Yes, Charlie, she is fine. Very happy, almost giddy this morning as they packed up her dress and other things. She had a delightful blush on her cheeks this morning."
Charlie sighed, relieved past words. He had a secret fear that she would decide that marrying a woman who passed as a man was just not what she wanted to do with her life and would leave him at the altar.
"So, now that she has gone to get ready, I can tend to my toilet?"
"You can. And I would suggest to you, that you spend the day lounging around in your most comfortable clothing."
"Oh? Why is that, oh seer of wedding days?"
"Because at about one o’clock I will be coming over here to stuff you into your most formal dress uniform."
Charlie smiled. The formal dress uniform was one of those outfits that required him to wear his more unusual undergarments. "I see. Good thing I have been running lately?"
"Indeed. It is also a good thing that we have a large canister of talc to get you into those trousers."
--*--
R
ebecca, Samantha and Grace sat in the small kitchen of the house sipping tea while Rebecca tried to eat a few pieces of sweet bread to settle her stomach. Elizabeth came into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face.
"And how is our blushing bride this morning?"
"Nervous. Elizabeth you are a doctor, can you not give me something for my stomach? I am afraid I shall be sick before the day is over."
"I have two prescriptions for you. The first is this little vial –– a simple tonic with raspberry and mint to settle your stomach without making you feel fuzzy. The second is for you to close your eyes and think of Charlie, of the look on his face as you walk down the aisle."
Rebecca could only smile like a schoolgirl. When she had done what Elizabeth suggested, she opened her eyes and looked to her friend. "Now is he not just the most handsome thing?"
Samantha and Grace started laughing, as Elizabeth commented wryly, "Well, dear, I suspect that depends on your taste in gentlemen. I do have to admit, Charlie is a handsome man."
"Yes, he is." She scratched her forehead as she tried to ease a headache coming on. "Why am I so blasted nervous? It is not like I have not done this before."
Grace leaned forward and patted her hand. "Perhaps, dear, that is exactly why you are so nervous. But you have to keep remembering the General is not Mr. Gaines, and that you chose the General."
"True. I suppose this is what a bride is supposed to feel on her wedding day."
Samantha looked askance. "I am not sure what a bride is supposed to feel. I was fortunate enough to have a husband I knew and loved before we married, so I remember feeling excited and joyous. But your first marriage was to a man you not only did not know well, but one you did not even like. I certainly understand why you may be feeling nervous. Just keep thinking about your Charlie. Put those old memories aside and know that you will look back on this day as one of the best in your life."
"I remember on the day I married the first time, I spent most of the morning in tears. I was frightened and I wished for a way out. But today I am just wishing for the day to go quickly so I can be with Charlie." She looked to Elizabeth. "Have you seen him the morning? How is he?"
Elizabeth smiled. "I have not seen either him or Richard. Perhaps Mrs. Cooper could enlighten us. I understand Mr. Cooper was in attendance last night."
Mrs. Cooper grinned evilly. "I do not know the details. All I know is, I came downstairs this morning to find Mr. Cooper sound asleep in the pantry where we store the dry goods. I am not sure how he got there, I am not even sure I want to know how he got there. From the mumbling he was doing on his way upstairs, there was some mention of hot rum punch, a new saddle, and General Redmond's men dancing with a horse. I am still not sure I understand that."
Rebecca could not help but chuckle. "Dancing with a horse?"
"Well," drawled Elizabeth, "you know how cavalry men are about their horses."
Samantha chimed in. "I heard the servants saying something about Grant and brooms."
Rebecca just looked to Samantha and then to Elizabeth. "Grant? Brooms? What in the name of God did they do last night?"
Lizbet walked in at that moment. "Miss Rebecca? Time to do your hair. And I believe the menfolk had some kind of party last night. Gen’l Charlie needed Sarah’s cure this morning."
"Oh Lord," Rebecca rolled her eyes. "I will be lucky if Charlie makes it to the church."
"Oh, I think that Charlie would make it to the church if he were on his deathbed, dear. I have never seen that man so determined." Elizabeth smiled. The changes Charlie had undergone in the past months were astounding. They were all for the better and all because of this diminutive blonde.
"I suppose it was Richard's idea to get my husband-to-be drunk? Richard is a bad influence on Charlie." Rebecca teased, realizing she was starting to feel much better.
"Well, as I heard it, it was everybody’s idea to get your husband-to-be drunk." Grace Cooper grinned. "I sent him off to play yesterday, and I understand that both General Sheridan and General Grant came down on the supply train last night to assist in the festivities."
The ladies watched as all the blood drained from Rebecca's face. "General Grant?" That was all she managed to get out before she promptly fainted.
A few burnt feathers, a sniff of salts and Rebecca rejoined the ladies. Lizbet took charge in her quiet way. "Miss Rebecca, I really need to start on your hair now."
--*--
C
harlie finished dressing. His uniform was immaculate; the buckskin britches were spotless, his boots gleamed, the cutaway tails of his dress coat were so thoroughly brushed that they looked more like beaver than wool. The brass on his jacket sparkled. He walked out of the house to mount Jack, who had also been brushed until he glowed. Somehow, the big horse knew this was an important event, a time to be sedate and showy. He flicked his feet out with every step, prancing as if he were one of the dancing Lipizzaner horses from Europe.
Richard was waiting with the rest of Charlie’s staff, dressed in their best uniforms, all spit and polish, to escort their commander to the church. Duncan, Raiford, and Jocko rode attendance, as well as Tarent and MacFarlane, who would tend the horses.
They stuck to the grass, to keep their immaculate clothing dust free, and proceeded to the church in good order.
They arrived at the church about forty-five minutes before three; plenty of time for Jocko to brush any last minute specks of dust from the uniforms and make sure each man’s appearance was perfect. As the guests began arriving, the officers adjourned to serve as ushers. Charlie paced…… non-stop…… back and forth. Richard watched him with a bemused smile. Every five minutes, Charlie stopped to ask Richard if he had the rings. Richard fished in his vest pocket, pulled them out, showed Charlie, and put them back. Charlie went back to pacing.
They heard a small commotion and Sheridan came in to tell Charlie it was time to get ready, since Rebecca had arrived.
Charlie turned to Richard. "Am I ready for……"
Richard grinned. "Breathe, Charlie. You have been sleeping with her for months. She is not going to turn into a gorgon just because you say ‘‘I do’. You love her; she loves you; the rest is just not important."
Sheridan looked at his very nervous officer. "Charlie?" Charlie looked wide-eyed and ready to either faint or bolt. "Remember, never lock your knees." Sheridan’s practical advice brought a grin. Locked knees were an invitation to keeling over when you had to stand for too long.
Charlie nodded, squared his shoulders, and walked to the back of the church. He strode confidently to the altar and took his position, with Richard at his shoulder. Both turned to look back toward the door. Mrs. Williams, her face drawn in a perfectly neutral mask after spending the morning helping to decorate the church, started the first chords of the bride’s processional.
Rebecca tried not to look as nervous as she felt. She looked to Elizabeth. "Tell me again how everything is going to be fine."
Elizabeth stood so that only Rebecca could hear her, whispering in her ear. "You love her. She completes you. She will stand by you through anything. What could be bad about this?"
Rebecca nearly choked as she tried not to laugh. She looked to her friend with wide, amused eyes. "That was not nice."
"No, but it did get you out of your panic. Now, are you ready to go and marry your dashing General Redmond?"
Rebecca took a deep, calming breath and nodded as Mr. Cooper moved next to her and offered his arm. "You are beautiful, my dear."
Grace and Samantha slipped out and took their seats in the bride’s family pew. Their entry was Mrs. William’s cue. The first strains of the processional rang out as Rebecca and Mr. Cooper walked to the door, with Elizabeth following behind. They stepped slowly up the aisle, the very image of dignity.
Richard whispered to Charlie, "close your mouth. You are gaping."
Rebecca could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she saw Charlie for the first time in his dress uniform. He had never looked more dignified and perfect than he did at that moment.