I am sending some of my pay to you, I beg you, Rebecca, keep this money to yourself. You may find yourself in a position where you will need it. I will send more from each pay, as I have no real needs here. The Army provides everything I require.
When the war is over and I return home, we will take a trip together. We will go wherever you wish, to someplace new and exciting. Just keep thinking about where it is we will go and save the money for that.
I will be home soon, dear sister. Until then, please take care of yourself.
Love,
Your brother, Andrew
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and unfolded a second piece of paper. She looked down at the crinkled paper. It was dated September 22nd, 1862. There it was in the middle of the second column. This causality list from September 17th had her bother’s name on it. It was the last trace of him she had. His body had not even been returned home. He was buried someplace on the battlefield of Antietam Maryland, far away from home. All she had left were these two pieces of paper and the memory of how he looked the morning he left.
She remembered the day she had been given the list. Her husband had presented it to her, and then told her that it was the nature of war and not to waste time crying over it. But she had cried, cried until he grabbed her by the arms, giving her a sound shake and reminding her that she was still his wife, bound to him and him alone. He told her that her brother had done what every good southern man would do and that she should be proud of him, not crying like a child.
At that very moment, Rebecca realized that her life was over, that she was truly alone in the world with only this man, who she was learning to detest with every passing day. When her husband had been called to serve, she felt an odd combination of fear and relief. The fear came from the fact that now she would be unprotected and the relief that for a while she would not be subject to him. She had never wished him any harm, and was truly saddened when he too had been killed, but deep in her heart, she felt as if the last year of her life had been a lie. She had worn the dark colors as she had been expected to do in polite society, but her heart was never truly mourning the loss of her husband.
Of course, his death had brought a completely new set of problems for her. After finding out Mr. Gaines had been killed, most of the slaves had taken the opportunity to run away. The ones that did not were taken away later, along with most of her belongings, when a band of renegade soldiers came through looting and worse.
Because her land was backed up against rail lines, she had certainly been subjected to her share of soldiers from both the North and the South. But this time it was different, and the one thing that made it different was Charlie. Not entirely because of his secret, although that was part of it. She admitted to herself that it fascinated her, but she found herself hard pressed to think about it too much. She did not want to make any assumptions that might embarrass or upset the Colonel.
The plain and simple truth of the matter was that Rebecca Gaines enjoyed the company of one Colonel Redmond and she would do whatever necessary to continue building a friendship. Not only did she simply enjoy his company, he made her feel safe. Safe in his strong presence and personality and safe when she shared her bed, knowing that he would never harm her.
She folded the papers, putting them back in the box. She started to put the box back in the trunk, but thought better of it and placed it gently on the mantle of the fireplace. Returning to the chests she removed a few of her favorite dresses then combined the remaining clothes into one chest. At the very bottom of the empty chest, she found a small wooden box. Retrieving it, she opened it to find her father’s pocket watch. She was delighted at this find. She thought she had lost it sometime ago.
"Oh Papa, I wish you were still here." Tracing her fingers over the watch, she smiled at the gold timepiece then gently closed the box. It too was placed on the mantle next to the box that held her brother’s letter.
--*--
Sunday, November 13, 1864
Rebecca hauled her personal laundry into the washroom off the kitchen and prepared to clean the garments. A loud crash just outside made her curious. Taking a bucket, she went outside in pretense of getting water. She nearly laughed aloud when she saw Charlie, covered in what appeared to be a goodly amount of the grease used on wagon wheels. She could tell he had been working just as hard as his men and now that his uniform was covered in grease, he just looked pitiful.
He had not noticed Rebecca on the porch as he wiped the grease from his uniform in large handfuls. He tried to replace most of it into the bucket that had fallen when the wagon fell. Charlie and two of his men had been changing out a wheel on the wagon when one of the men lost his grip, sending the bucket down on their commander.
"Colonel Redmond," Rebecca giggled as she set the bucket down and walked out into the yard. "Dare I say it is going to take a very strong lye soap to clean up that uniform. And even then the smell may never come out. I hope you were not fond of that particular set of clothes." She unconsciously looked him over from head to toe, blushing when she reached the apex of his trousers. Yes, there were things she really wanted to know about how he managed his deception so well. Perhaps she would find the courage to ask him some evening when they were alone.
"These things happen." He smiled, slightly embarrassed as he wiped yet another huge glob of grease from his shirt. "Miss Rebecca, you look tired. Would you like to join us in the officer’s mess for dinner this evening? I cannot promise anything special, but at least it would save you from cooking." Charlie looked at this small woman. She had shadows under her eyes and her face was streaked with dust and, he suspected, tears.
"Colonel, I would be honored. And not having to cook tonight would be a blessing."
"Excellent. Then shall I call for you at say, sundown? I rather need to finish this and then clean up." Charlie looked down at his grease smeared clothing ruefully.
"I will be waiting, Colonel."
--*--
Charlie went back to working with the men and quickly finished replacing the wheel on the wagon. As the cotter pin was driven in, the good Colonel shrugged and grinned at his men. "Other than the small incident with the grease bucket, good job, lads. Get cleaned up and have a good dinner. Tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day."
Trudging back to his own tent, Charlie hailed Jocko. The batman took a look at his charge, who was definitely the worse for wear. "Been having a battle with a wagon wheel, I hear. Looks like the wheel won."
"Thanks, Jocko. I need all the support I can get. How about letting the mess know that Miss Rebecca’s joining us for dinner and then meeting me at the bath shack? I have to get this grease off me. Between the sweat and the grease, I feel like a pig that has been rolling in a wallow."
Jocko’s laughter was heard trailing behind him as he set off to quickly carry out the necessary errands and collect a clean uniform for Charlie. The news that Mistress Gaines was joining the officer’s mess for dinner ran through the camp like wildfire. By the time Jocko got to the bathing shed with Charlie’s clean uniform, every officer in the camp was lined up and waiting for a turn.
"Relax boys, you will have plenty of time to pretty up. The Colonel still has to go and collect the lady." Jocko could not help but laugh at the eager young men. Dinner with a lady –– even a rebel lady –– was a treat.
Jocko entered the shed with Charlie’s clothing. "Well Colonel C, you have some competition out there. Every man jack of them is chafing at the bit to come in here and pretty himself up."