Jeremiah stared at Duncan for a moment, then shrugged. "I suppose."
Duncan nodded his head and continued walking. They got to the fishing hole in companionable silence. "They are feeding today. The flies are starting to hatch. You want to just throw a line out?"
"No line."
"Got one right here." Duncan pulled a spool of line and a hook from his belt pouch.
"Duncan, we got no pole."
Duncan pulled the whittling knife from his pocket. "I figger you can trim one with this." He handed it to Jeremiah. "Keep it. It was my da’s and I would like you to have it."
Jeremiah looked at the knife in his hand and a large lump formed in his throat. "Dunc, I, ...Ma would skin me if I took your da's knife. You should save this for your son."
"Well, you know, I do not have a son. But I do have you, lad, and I know my da would be proud to have such a fine young man have his knife. Keep it for me. If you still want to, you can return it when I come back." And when I come back, if I come back, maybe Miss Samantha would not mind if I came calling.
"I promise to keep it safe, and good and sharp until you come back for it, Duncan."
"You do that, lad. Now, see if you can pull a fish or two in for dinner. I have to get back to the General." Yes, indeed, my da would be proud of a son like Jeremiah.
--*--
Saturday, February 25, 1865
Jocko was pawing through Charlie’s wardrobe, pulling out those articles of clothing he would need on the campaign, and leaving those items that were more appropriate to social events. Field uniforms, the tight britches and tunics he wore to work in, extra socks, and under things that were comfortable, warm and hid his gender were all being tightly packed. Jocko wanted to travel light. Charlie’s clothes were one of his primary responsibilities, both because that is what a batman did and because, in Charlie’s case, image was especially critical.
As he packed the well-worn leather satchels, Rebecca entered the room. "Good afternoon, Miss Rebecca," Jocko acknowledged her and continued on with his work.
"Good afternoon Jocko. Packing his things I see."
"Not everything, ma’am. This is his home now. Just the things he will need on the campaign."
Rebecca smiled. "Thank you." She took a seat on the bed and watched as he continued. "You know, Charlie is not the only one I am going to miss."
"Yes, ma’am. You and Dr. Walker have gotten to be quite close, I believe."
She chuckled, "Yes, I shall miss Elizabeth, but she is not the subject of this conversation."
"Oh, ma’am?" Jocko was busy being the very appropriate sergeant and batman. Why, if he admitted to being attached to anyone, he might just have to settle down. Mrs. White had already done more than enough of making him suspect he was fated to do so after the war was over.
"Yes, Jocko. I shall miss you very much too. If I were you, I would be a little more careful about teasing Charlie about his membership in the clan O'Blivious."
"No, ma'am, I am not normally a member of that illustrious family, but there are times when it is far more comfortable to pretend to be." He looked at her and grinned, "Anyway, if Mrs. White has her way, I will be back."
"I think if my husband has his way, you will be back. He seems to have plans for the reconstruction of Culpeper and I believe you are key to those plans."
"Then, ma’am, I suppose between you, Gen’l C and Mrs. White, I have no other options available, unless I choose to fling myself in front of some rebel sword." He pantomimed careful thought, grinning like a monkey. "No, no options there. I suppose I will be back."
"I am delighted to hear it. Please make sure to bring my husband with you."
"I shall do my best, ma’am, but you know Gen’l Charlie. Once he gets his mind set on something, there is very little that will turn him. Now that you mention it, I believe his objective is to come back."
--*--
Charlie had a quiet word with Sarah that afternoon, asking her to prepare a special dinner for Miss Rebecca, and serve it to them in the little parlor that was her favorite room –– a quiet dinner for just the two of them. Some early daffodils had snuck their heads up in some of the more sheltered areas of the farm; Charlie had picked them and a bowl of sunshine yellow flowers graced the mantle.
Charlie escorted Rebecca into the room, where their dinner was already laid out and covered to keep it warm. "My darling, I hope you like this. I wanted some time for just the two of us tonight."
"Of course, this is perfect, Charlie."
Charlie lifted a bottle of champagne from the cooler and opened it. "I saved this from our wedding for a special night together. There is another in the cellar for when I return, my love."
She smiled, managing to hold back the tears that seemed to be living in her eyes and she took the offered glass. "You think of everything."
"I try, my dear wife. As I think I told you, I believe if I plan for every contingency, even the worst, then I can usually avoid it. This is just my way of trying to show you I am doing everything possible to come home soon."
"I know you are. I know you want that as much as I do." She settled at the table. "You know how you have spent all your life learning to be a man?"
"Yes, love?" Charlie was confused. What his assumed role had to do with this evening and the upcoming separation was beyond him.
"Well, I spent my entire life learning to be a woman; a woman who is taught to worry and fret and who is left behind to pray everything will be all right. We are expected to tend home and hearth and raise children. You have given me so much more. You have made me feel like your partner, your equal. I feel, with you, I can do anything. I am not limited to the traditional roles. If I lose you, I lose that. I cannot stand the thought of being without you and I am terrified of being 'put back in my place'. So you see, Charlie, you not only own my heart, but you have given me more than any man ever could and I want you home so we can continue to grow and discover what is available to us." She smiled, "Who knows, maybe I will take up medicine as Elizabeth has."
"Then, my love, for your future, our children’s future, and my own, I clearly must return. In leaving, I leave you my heart and soul. I hope you know that." Charlie took a sip of his champagne. "I also hope you know I have left you sufficiently financially secure so you and the children will never have to worry about subjecting yourselves to someone else’s control. There is enough money there for you to go to medical school if you wish, and for both children to be well educated."
She smiled and sipped her champagne. "Yes, which is what I expect of you. I could not care less about money, Charlie. All of it does not matter without you."
Charlie lifted the champagne glass out of Rebecca’s hand and took her in his arms. "Then, dear heart, I will come back. I am only half alive without you; so I will do my utmost to return as quickly as I can. I love you." Charlie was a little lost. She talked about what he provided her life. Yet in answering with the explanation of how he had tried to ensure freedom for her, it was brushed aside. But he did understand one thing. He needed her and, somehow, she needed him. It was all that mattered to him at this point. If he could get through the coming months, maybe he would come to understand the rest of what she was trying to tell him.
--*--
Monday, February 27, 1865
The orders to march arrived via telegraph. At first light on Tuesday, the 13th Pennsylvania Cavalry was to break camp and march for Rockfish Gap, the central passage from Virginia’s breadbasket in the Shenandoah Valley to the east.
That evening, Charlie hosted a farewell dinner with all of his company officers and the leading families of the community. It was a critical meeting, for that evening, Major Byrnes, formerly commander of Company F, was officially taking charge of the military-civilian liaison for Culpeper County. Byrnes and Mayor Frazier found they had several things in common, not the least of which was a love of chess. The two men had spent a number of hours together over the past several days and not all of the time was spent planning for the upcoming changes.