The overwhelming look of pain on her face made Charlie’s heart break. He wanted so much to take the pain away for her. To make everything all right, maybe for the moment, maybe for tonight he could.
Gently he touched her shoulder. "Rebecca? It is all right; it is only a dream. You do not need to be upset."
Still she struggled and cried in her sleep. When she crossed her arms over her body as if she were protecting herself, Charlie pulled back, wondering if he was the cause of her distress. Suddenly her eyes opened and she gasped in panic, sitting up immediately, looking around to get her bearings. Finally, she saw Charlie. "I am sorry." She sniffed. "I did not mean to wake you. I will go to the davenport."
"You will do no such thing. Please," He placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Lie down, and rest." Her coaxed her back, then ran his fingers through her hair. "You are safe here. No one will hurt you."
"Thank you."
He let his fingers drift down to wipe tears from her cheeks. "Will you share with me what has you so upset?"
"I was dreaming of my husband."
Charlie’s heart sank yet again. "I am sure you miss him."
"No," She shook her head, the tears renewed. "I know I am awful for saying this, but I do not miss him."
"You do not?"
"No," She looked to Charlie, expecting him to leave her. When he did not move she thought it safe to explain. "He did not love me, Colonel. He……he……never loved me." She began crying again, this time moving closer to Charlie, seeking comfort there, hoping he would not turn her out.
He opened his arms and she curled into them with her head on his shoulder, her tears soaking the cotton of his nightshirt. Charlie could tell the woman was trying desperately to gain back control. "Its all right," He whispered. "You are safe, go ahead and cry. There is no one here who will pass judgment."
Chapter 6
Monday, November 14, 1864
Sheridan threw Charlie's report over to his executive officer, Colonel Angus McCauley. "What do you think of this?"
McCauley read it then looked at Sheridan with a question on his face. "Charlie Redmond wrote this?"
"Yup. Looks like our perfect officer and gentleman may have finally decided to shift the emphasis from officer to gentleman. I think I am going to have to get down there and conduct my formal inspection as soon as possible. He has either fallen for the land or the lady, and I am damned if I can tell which from his letter. But I sure want to find out."
"Well, sir, even though he may have his head in the clouds, from the looks of his reports, he has found a good place for the troops. Looks like its got everything –– pasture, water, places for the men to be at least partially sheltered from the weather, room for a real hospital, and he has secured the rail head. We will not have too many problems provisioning them. I believe General Grant used Culpeper as his headquarters for a short time last spring. Thank God, we will not have to use horse and wagon. I am having enough problems with the troops outside of Haymarket."
Sheridan took the report back and scanned it again. "Oh, by the way, McCauley, what about those boots. Did you and Polk sort that out?"
"As well as we could, sir. The materials the War Department is sending us are often substandard. I sometimes suspect that our purchasing agents are southern saboteurs, but then I have to look again. They are just crooks."
"Well see what you can do for them. The 13th Pennsylvania has taken more punishment that almost any other cavalry regiment in the entire army. I would like to try and take care of them as much as possible."
"Yes, sir." McCauley made a note in his already filled list of orders for the day.
"You know, McCauley, this war is going to be over soon. And the President has issued orders that we are to begin reconstruction of the Union as quickly and painlessly as possible. Considering the amount of pain and animosity this war has engendered, I think our good southern gentleman might be just the thing to help that process along. Make sure you see to it that Charlie has all of the resources, supplies, personnel and money he needs. Make it real money, not military script. That will probably help too. I will issue orders that will also allow Dr. Walker to treat the locals using army supplies. Whatever we can do to rebuild relations with these folks."
Sheridan glanced over some papers on his desk, apparently on to other issues. He then looked at his calendar. "And see what you can do to clear my calendar around the end of next month. I want to go see this paragon Charlie has found –– the woman or the land."
--*--
Morning broke clear and bright, which given the night they had both endured, was more irritating than welcoming. Lack of sleep on Charlie's part and for Rebecca, the sting of tears that flowed until there were no more available made the first light of dawn feel like knives in their sensitive eyes.
"Miss Rebecca?" Charlie asked gently as he tried to untangle himself and his soggy nightshirt from what felt like Rebecca's death grip. "Miss Rebecca, I have to get up now. Duty calls."
Rebecca relinquished her hold on Charlie, moving away, feeling embarrassed at her outburst the pervious night and ashamed she had made the Colonel witness to it. "Yes, of course. I am sorry."
He reached out and caught her hand in his larger one. "Do not be sorry. I am not. Your trust is one of the most precious things I have ever been given." He tenderly kissed the back of her hand. "You honor me more than I can tell you, dear Miss Rebecca."
"Thank you. For everything." She smiled at him, wishing she could make him understand what feeling safe for the first time in years truly meant to her. "But, Sir, I do believe you have men that require your guidance and I am sure I must have a thousand things to be done here.
"We both have a thousand things to attend to if we are to settle this bunch of ruffians I call a regiment for the winter. The first thing, I think, is that I need to create a relationship with the local merchants. And you, dear, need to get some help out here. Why do not you accompany me into town this afternoon?"
"Town?" she smiled and chewed the side of her bottom lip. "Oh, it has been ages since I have been to town. I am not sure I will know how to behave in proper society. But, yes Colonel, I would love to go to town with you. Perhaps I can get some badly needed supplies. Maybe get the items to fix you a proper dinner."
"My dear lady, if I could have a plate of pileau again, I would be in heaven. I may have lived with Yankees for the past 20 years, but I still love my southern foods. Shall I pick you up after lunch?"
"Yes Colonel Redmond, I would be pleased if you did. Thank you."
"Oh, we found a little basket cart in the stables. If the boys have it fixed this morning, I will hitch Shannon to it and we will go in style, if you like."
"I must warn you, we will be the talk of the town. You wait until you meet some of those old hens."
"Oh, my dear, I relish the thought." A rakish grin illuminated Charlie's normally gentle visage. If he had a moustache, he would have been twirling the ends.
She laughed softly as she stood and put on her robe. "Is that a bit of a wicked side I see coming out, Colonel Redmond?"
Charlie's southern accent was normally rather understated, but the next words out of his mouth made it unmistakable that he was from that French-flavored city in South Carolina. "Why, ma chere Madame Rebecca, what ever gave you the idea that I would be anything other than a perfect gentleman?"
She laughed harder, the memories of her bad dreams fading away like the early morning mist. "Yes, sir, I do believe you have just a little evil streak and I must say I find it utterly charming."