Rebecca was there in the role of hostess –– her first adventure as a true field officer’s wife –– and hopefully her last. The leading families of Culpeper were in attendance as well. Reverend Williams insisted on attending so he might bless the troops, a concept that mortally offended his wife. The Coopers and several others joined the rather subdued dinner.
The dinner progressed with minimal stress. Mrs. Williams only snarled a few times, until it came time for Reverend Williams to offer the benediction.
Mrs. Williams refused to look at her husband during his blessing. Instead she locked eyes with Rebecca and they both remained that way until Charlie took Rebecca's hand and whispered in her ear. "Down, girl."
She just smiled at Charlie and sighed, "Yes, dear."
"Just think, darling, what her future holds in store for her. Why, I can just imagine what inventive punishments the devil has available for those like her. Do you think that using her tongue to strop razors would be a good start?"
"That is almost too good for her. I personally hope every Yankee who needs a home will decide to settle in Culpeper."
"Do you think we could redo her living room with Yankee carpetbags? Sort of a patchwork effect?"
"I do believe it is the least we could do." She smiled and took his hand.
Charlie tightened his grip on her hand. "By the way, the quilt from the ladies is lovely. What a thoughtful gift. I am quite sure you had a hand in it."
"Actually, I did not. I knew they were planning something for you, but I had no idea. It was very sweet of them to give you something to make sure you stay warm."
"My love, I will never be completely warm until I am back with you." At that point, the polite conversation and thanks that had followed the minister’s words trailed off and Charlie and Rebecca were called upon to bid their guests good night. Charlie patiently stood as all of the Culpeper residents save one wished him farewell.
Finally, the last guest left. Charlie turned to Rebecca. "I have been both dreading and anticipating this moment. I hate saying goodbye to you, but the only thing I could think of all evening was being alone with you."
"Then I suggest we go to our room, so we can be alone."
"After you, Mrs. Redmond." Charlie escorted her up the stairs with all due formality.
--*--
Charlie held Rebecca close in her arms, their hearts pounding in rhythm with one another, their bodies damp, boneless and sated. All Charlie could do was murmur over and over, "My love, my love."
Rebecca shifted, getting as close to Charlie as she could. "I love you, Charlie. So very much."
"I love you, Rebecca. You are my heart, my reason for living."
"I doubt I will sleep tonight. I want to spent every moment we have..." she stopped and buried her nose in Charlie's neck. "I want to remember everything."
Charlie smiled. She knew exactly what Rebecca meant. "Ah, darling. I believe I have memorized every single mole, freckle and dimple on your body. The smell of your soap; the color of your hair in the sun, in firelight, in moonlight; the texture of your lips; the skin at the hollow of your throat. I hold you in my memory. Each smile and laugh and kiss is a jewel I can hold in my heart."
--*--
Tuesday, February 28, 1865
Dawn brought sleet and freezing rain. The men, grumbling, pulled themselves out of their warm cots and efficiently packed up their last few personal belongings. Rebecca woke to the clash and call of men pulling down tents and loading wagons with poles and rolls of canvas.
A small head poked up over the edge of the bed, "Mama? Papa? Cuddles?"
Rebecca smiled and moved to lift Em into bed with her. "Good morning, my little darling. I will be happy to give you cuddles, but Papa is already up and out with the soldiers."
Em’s face fell, "No Papa? He pwomised."
"Emily, listen very carefully to Mama. Today, Papa has to leave and it is very important that we are strong for him and make him proud of us. Papa does not want to leave but he must. So we must be strong."
"Em not stwong." The little girl shook her head sadly, "Em little."
"Emily, you are a big girl of two now and Papa needs us to support him. He does not want to go away, but he has orders. He will be coming home soon. So this morning, when it is time to say goodbye, we have to make Papa proud."
"Yes, Mama. Em be good." The toddler sucked on her finger for a minute, then looked back up at Rebecca, "Mama cuddles?"
--*--
By eight o’clock the sleet had settled into a steady freezing rain. Charlie was huddled in his greatcoat, his oilskin slouch hat on his head, a warm woolen muffler wrapped around his neck, and an entire regiment of rather grumpy men ready to march on his orders within the half hour. He left the final bits and pieces to the company commanders, and rode back to the house for a private farewell.
Rebecca was in the parlor waiting. Em was dressed in her best dress and sitting like a little lady on the davenport.
Charlie stepped in and stopped at the door, surveying the scene before him. Somehow the two of them managed to capture the grace and elegance of the time before the war, until he looked into their eyes. Both were fighting to keep the tears from falling. Charlie stepped farther into the room then opened his arms.
Em immediately squirmed off the davenport and flew into his arms. "Papa!"
Charlie swept the child up into his arms and held her close. "My little girl. Will you be good while I am gone and help Mama Becca? I will be home just as soon as I possibly can. I love you, Em."
"Yes, Papa." The child could no longer hold her tears, "Love Papa."
Charlie dug in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Jocko had known he would need it and conveniently stashed a spare in his greatcoat pocket. "Now, no crying. I will be home as soon as I can. I love you, little one."
Rebecca stepped forward and took Em into her arms. Then she hugged Charlie tight. "I love you. Come home soon."
Charlie wrapped his arms around them both. "God willing, my darlings, God willing I will be back as soon as I can."
Chapter 31
Tuesday, February 28, 1865
The day had been hard and long. Since they had wintered in Culpeper, no one in the entire regiment was used to being in the saddle all day long. The cold rain and sleet, and the mud that mired horses’ feet and wagon wheels just contributed to the misery. At the end of the day, after seeing to all of the myriad niggling issues that were part of making camp, Charlie finally sat down in his tent. A single oil lamp, hung haphazardly on the center pole, provided a flickering light. Jocko had unrolled his bedroll on the folding cot. There, in the middle of the bedroll, was an envelope addressed to Charlie in very familiar script.
Monday, February 27, 1865
Dearest Husband,
I am writing this letter even as I watch you slumber just a few feet away. Right now, at this very moment it does not seem as if there is anything that can hurt us. However, I know that in just a few short days that will change.
I can still feel your touch from our lovemaking tonight. I savor it, Dearest, and will let the memory wash over me to keep me warm and safe when you are far from home.
You know I will worry, but I will try not to do it every moment of every day. I do not know how to express the abundance of emotions that I am feeling.
I am scared, of course, but there is also a great deal of pride for you. That you would see this through so gallantly and stand fast until the end, yes I am very proud of you.
I believe the thing that concerns me the most is that we have no way of knowing how long you will be away. Will it be a few weeks or many months?