Razor? My Neck? Blunt razor? "I will be very, very still. I promise. Please, do not slip? My neck is very sensitive."
She took the razor and ran it over a leather strap. "I promise not to cut your throat, Charlie and I was only teasing about the razor. It is quite sharp." She handed it to him. "See for yourself."
"No, dear. I trust you." Charlie bent his head forward, exposing his neck to her hand and blade.
At that moment as Rebecca put the blade to Charlie’s skin it made her realize how much he really did trust her. If she were a confederate spy, she could easily cut Charlie’s throat and there would not be anything anyone could do about it. She very carefully and very lovingly began to scrap the short hairs from his neck. "I love you, Charlie."
He waited until she was through trimming his neck. Then he turned to look into her eyes. "I love you, Rebecca. I trust you with everything I am and everything I have. I trust you with my honor."
"I promise to keep it safe and protect it and you until my dying day, Charles Redmond."
All Charlie could do was close his eyes and savor the moment.
--*--
Once Charlie’s haircut was finished and Rebecca released him for his torture, she sent him on his way and carried the chair back into the kitchen. Sarah was tending the fire in the boiler. She looked up and gave Rebecca a little smirk. "Do not worry about it, Miss Rebecca, men start squirming in the chair as youngsters when their Mama cuts their hair and that is one of the things they never outgrow. My Mama used to say it was because they all thought they were like Sampson."
Rebecca laughed. "I can see that. I hope Colonel Redmond does not think of me as Delilah."
Rebecca stepped back out on the porch to collect the things she had left out there, when a commotion made her go around the corner of the house. There she saw Duncan and another trooper in the midst of a fistfight. "Boys! Stop this!" She left the porch and ran to the men. "Stop this!" She wanted to try and separate them but knew she would not have the strength to stop these two men who were intent on hurting each other.
She moved to the back of the house and yelled as loud as she could. "Charlie! Sergeant Jackson!"
Charlie was just entering his office, while scratching at the little hairs that had slipped inevitably under his collar. He turned and ran around the house, looking for Rebecca. He was sure she was in trouble.
Jocko had been to his tent to gather his belongings and was hauling them back to take over the little room that Beulah had told him was to be his own. He dropped his belongings in the mud and started running.
"Oh, Charlie, you have got to stop them!" She pointed to the other side of the house when she saw Charlie come out of his office.
Charlie looked to where Rebecca was pointing. Duncan was rolling in the mud with what looked like one of the Pennsylvania troopers from Montgomery's company. Fortunately, Jocko was on the way to the scene from the other side.
The two men moved quickly. Charlie literally lifted Duncan off the larger man. Davison, a trooper history of aggressive behavior, was up and after Duncan again in a heartbeat. Jocko grabbed Trooper Davison and pinned his arms behind his back.
Rebecca stayed well back but watched as the two men pulled the fighters apart from each other. It was everything she could do to stay back and let Charlie handle the situation.
Charlie's command voice was present in full force. "‘Tenshun." Both men realized their commanding officer was present. They snapped to full attention, eyes forward, one with a blackened eye, and the other with a bloody lip.
Charlie stalked around both of them. "All right. Which one of you wants to tell me what is going on here?"
Both men remained stubbornly silent.
"All right. Duncan. You are the last man I would expect to break the rules about fighting in camp. What happened?"
"Sir, noth…… nothing sir." Duncan’s eyes strayed to Rebecca, then back to his commander.
Charlie caught the look. He stepped behind Davison. "What about you, trooper. What have you to say?"
"Nothing, sir." The man all but growled his answer.
"You are both aware that fighting is a punishable crime."
"Yes, sir." They answered together. Duncan swallowed hard.
"Which one of you started this?"
Duncan stepped forward without a word.
Duncan's one glance to his fiancéée had told the story. Charlie's eyebrow rose. Duncan Nailer was the gentlest man in the whole regiment. Whatever Davison had said about Rebecca must have been harsh. Charlie nodded. "I assume that something was said or done that inspired this behavior."
"I threw the first p..p..punch, sir." Duncan responded. "It was my fault."
"Duncan, go to my office. Wait there for my judgment. And wipe your feet before you go in. I do not want mud on everything." He turned to Davison and just waited.
Duncan double-timed it around the house to wait for the Colonel. Davison just continued to stand there at attention staring straight ahead.
"Since I know Duncan well enough to know that he would not throw a punch without at least some provocation, do you want to tell me what you said."
Davison’s eyes strayed to Rebecca,and then he looked hard at Charlie. "I said she was a whore."
"You realize you are speaking of my fiancéée." Charlie’s voice was hard and flat.
"You deserve her." His lip curled before he added with a sneer. "Sir."
Charlie's temper was rising rapidly. A deadly calm settled over him, one that Jocko recognized as the most lethal of all of Charlie's moods. "Really? Would you care to tell me, Mr. Davison, just why you hold that opinion?"
"She is southern trash. Makes sense you would find your way into her bed."
"Does that mean you believe I am southern trash as well, Mr. Davison?"
The man said nothing but continued to stare at his commanding officer. Then he took a deep breath. "They should not have given you command. You are a southern sympathizer. Look at what you are ordering us to do for these rebels. I would rather cut my own throat than chop one piece of wood to keep them warm."
"Are you aware, Trooper, that we are following orders issued by our Commander in Chief himself?"
"Not all people agree with him, either. They started this war, let them suffer for it."
"All right. We are going to resolve this issue today." He turned to Jocko. "Muster the regiment. I want full attendance, in formation, in the north paddock in fifteen minutes." Turning back to Davison, he commanded, "You, sir, will be free to state you opinion at the muster. I expect you to state it succinctly and as a gentleman. Know that I will personally speak for the other side of this issue."
Charlie called one of the staff sergeants from his old regiment over. "Sergeant, guard this man. He is under arrest for fighting in the encampment. Further charges, specifically dereliction of duty, may be brought."
Charlie stalked off to his office to deal with Duncan while the regiment gathered.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself, lad?"
"Sir, I am s..s..sorry for fighting." Duncan stood ramrod straight, in front of Charlie’s desk.
"So how many of your fellow troopers have the same opinion of our situation as Davison?"
"Sir?"
"Mr. Davison just informed me that he referred to Miss Rebecca as a whore. He went on to inform me that I should not have been given this command because I am a southern sympathizer. I assume that he said something similar to you."
Duncan’s eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, then he looked back up. "Yes, sir. He said awful things about Miss Rebecca and he……" The boy stopped and shook his head.
More gently, Charlie urged him on. "Tell me, Duncan. I cannot fix it if I do not know what I am facing."