Corn Silk Days Part 30

"Why is that, Janie?"

"I was wondering if he'll be happy about the farm. I know he wants to buy more land, more animals. Then in many of his letters he's talked of living in other states."

"He'll have plenty of time to do what he wants after he settles in back home," Alexander a.s.sured her.

"I really don't want to leave here. This is home."

"Ah, don't worry about it. He won't want to leave either, Janie. He'll be so happy to be back home, with you, the young-uns, and a good bed to sleep in."

She laughed. "I hope you're right, Pap."

Alexander gave her a wink. "I'll bet on it," he said.

It was a Sat.u.r.day, mid-morning, and Lucinda Garrison was outside at her clothes line hanging clothing onto the line from a basket of wet laundry. Above her was a deep blue sky scattered with beautiful cirrus clouds.

She was unaware that Benjamin Storm was nearby. He stood back and watched her, delighting in every move she made. As he watched, she filled one row with clothing and then moved on to the second line. He waited until she had clipped on the last blouse and then started toward her.

As she picked up the basket and turned, she saw him. She stopped, and he thought even from where he stood, that she gasped, unless it was his imagination. But nevertheless, it was obvious to him she was surprised.

He called out, "Hi Lucinda."

"Hi Benjamin," she quickly replied.

She stayed where she was as he walked closer. "I didn't know you were back," she told him.

"Mama was sick and my dad asked me to come." he said.

"Is she okay?"

"She's gonna be fine."

When he stood close to her, the basket between them, he asked softly, "How are you, Lucinda?"

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"I'm really sorry about James."

"Thank you," she said, lowering her eyes.

"I should have come back for the service, but I-"

"That's okay, I understand," seemingly not wanting to discuss it. She asked, "Do you want to come in for something cold to drink?"

He smiled. "Yes, I would like that," he said. "Do you have any of your good cookies to go with it?"

She laughed. "Come on, let's see."

They went into her house and Benjamin felt the warmth of her home. On the table was a stack of books, and next to the stack, pen and paper.

He asked, "You busy with school work?"

"Hmm, not really. I was doing some research for new lesson plans. I have to keep ahead of the children, they seem to learn so fast," she said, removing gla.s.ses from the cupboard.

He pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. "I've been working for the newspaper in Cincinnati for awhile now."

"Oh, really? How do you like it?"

"I do like it. I've even thought of having my own newspaper some day," he replied. "Be my own boss."

She filled a plate with cookies, filled the gla.s.ses with sweet tea and set them on the table.

"That might be a nice career."

"It beats farming and working at the lumber mill."

She sat opposite him and they enjoyed light conversation, seemingly avoiding any talk of James. And for that reason, Benjamin was having a difficult time sensing how her grief was. Not that he expected her to be over her mourning, but several months had pa.s.sed and maybe it was now easier for her. But he couldn't tell. As he had glanced around the living room when they walked in, there was not sign of a masculine influence at all. He remembered there had been before. He had noted the bookcase no longer held a framed photo of James.

After awhile she got up and went to the sink for more tea. He followed her. She turned around, leaning her back against the drainboard, one hand at her waist on her hip, and he could barely resist taking her into his arms. He was close and neither of them said a thing or made a move until she reached out and grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.

"Look how my heart is beating so fast," she said. "Benjamin, why do you do that to me?"

He said softly, "You do it to me. Feel my heart." He put her hand on his chest and could feel the beat of his own heart pick up under her hand. He smiled and said, "If our hearts continue to beat that fast we may wear them out sooner than we should."

They locked gazes and in a moment he tilted her chin up to kiss her and she fully accepted his lips, and as he explored her warm mouth with his lips and tongue, he felt her fingers digging into his back as she clung tightly to him. His lips left her mouth and he kissed her neck and slowly moved down toward her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. As he moved his hands to the fullness and touched the erect nipples revealing themselves under her blouse she moaned and he knew they were not stopping or denying the chemistry between them.

She pulled back and reached for b.u.t.tons on his s.h.i.+rt and allowed his hands to begin to unb.u.t.ton her blouse.

Benjamin was not sure which of them began the move toward the sofa but that is where they were in moments, making love with a pa.s.sion he had forgotten and yet a pa.s.sion he remembered from a time that seemed so long ago, and yet like it had never ceased. Their bodies melded into one as the intimacy of the love between them overflowed in sensual expression.

They then moved to her bed and continued their love making and when they lay in each other's arms, exhausted and content, quietly listening to and feeling the breathing of the other, Benjamin's fears completely faded away. The beautiful woman he loved for so long was in his arms, her head resting on his chest. And he had heard her words, the words he had for years longed to hear again. Benjamin, I love you.

It was nearly dusk when Benjamin helped Lucinda take her laundry from the clothes line.

The moon, full and bright, was coming up and breaking through the clouds. They watched the moon for a few minutes, arms full of clothes, before going into the house.

When she was finished putting the laundry away she came into the kitchen and told him, "I'll fix us some supper. Will you stay tonight?"

"Yes, you bet. But I do have to go back to Cincinnati on Monday. I told Mr. Halstead I'd be back as soon as I could."

The reality of that caused Lucinda b.u.t.terflies in her stomach. "But you'll be back soon?"

"Do you want me back soon?"

"Yes. I want you back. But you have to promise me you won't ... ah you won't-"

"Drink?"

"Yes."

He pulled her into his arms, as she hoped he would. He said, "You have my promise, my love. I waited too long for you. I love you. And I want you to be my wife."

"Well, when will you move back here?"

"Very soon. I will see about working out a deal with Halstead to start a newspaper here in town or even close by."

"Really?"

"Yes, but I don't want to wait a month to marry you," he said. "Will you marry me, Lucinda, marry me tomorrow?"

She threw her arms tight around his neck and screamed with delight. "Yes, oh yes, Benjamin, I will!"

Chapter Sixty-eight: Wednesday, the 26th Day of July 1865.

Vicksburg Dear Jane, It has been sometime since I have written to you. When we were in Columbus, Texas the mail could not go out because the railroad bridge across the Brazos River was destroyed by the rising water so the cars could not get to us.

I heard some of the Iowa boys have been discharged and went to Davenport. It looks like we will stay until our time is up. At Mobile Colonel Glasgow said to me probably we would stay six weeks or so. I heard he is now at Galveston and Provost Marshal General of the State of Texas. When we get to go home I want to start and not stop until I'm home.

Well Jane, about two thirds of the citizens of Texas deserve hanging. They do not nor never did regard law. They were getting very bold and saucy in that place. When we got there the major was in command of the regiment and when we got there he took command of the Post and put in one of those Chicago Copperheads as Provost Marshall (he is a Captain of our regiment). Well the Major is not very strict and the Provost Marshall ran the machine himself. The citizens soon found out that they would not be punished for these misdemeanors so they got very saucy drawing their revolvers on the soldiers and threatened to shoot them. The head man of the regiment let it pa.s.s and it was raising the boys and they would not stand it much longer. Fortunately the lieutenant colonel came and he straightened things out. He was not here very long when he made one citizen pay ten dollars for using about four words against a soldier and he has told the Provost Marshall not to let them off less than $25 dollars for such language. He has got a great many of them in jail for the misdemeanors toward soldiers. He said he will let them know that they are fooling with U.S. troops and if they do not behave themselves he will fill the jail full of them. Those men that are so mean are men who were in the rear or at home and they are a blowing what they can do and that they have not been whipped but when one of the soldiers comes down on them they are not so brave. If they could slip up and shoot a person probably they would do it. Confederate soldiers that were in the ranks and done their duty, despise such men as bad as we do, and say if they had been to the front where the soldiers had been they would have been whipped. Those men want good laws and they say such hot-headed men should be hanged up to a tree. That is my sentiments. The boys upheld Colonel Clark's strict orders and the town was getting peaceful. The boys do not like having a fuss with the citizens. They look to the authorities to tend to such business but if Colonel Clark had not come I presume that we would have had a big mess here. The boys will not hurt good loyal men.

Well Jane, we are blessed with the Negroes here. They are badly used by their masters. I have heard of several being shot by the overseers and that is a poor way to get anyone to like them. Those men who have given their Negroes their freedom and have used them right, then the Negroes will not leave them and will stay and work for them and get paid. I have seen some Negroes here who I would have liked to tie a rope around their neck, like some of those Texas citizens. But most of them are good people. I know you don't like Negroes so I will not say any more about them now.

I must tell you where I am now. My health is not very good at present but I am getting around. I walked about a quarter mile yesterday to where the regiment is to get my mail. I was happy to find your two letters. I am now on the Nashville Hospital Boat. I do not know how long I will be on it or whether I will be sent up the river. The sick are being sent up the river as fast as possible. I think I would have my health if I was in the North. I know I would rather be in the North than in the sunny South as they call it. I am in hopes our men will keep ground as the Rebellion plays out and then we can all return home and live in peace. There is a great many sick soldiers here at Vicksburg and it is hard that they can't be sent home to be taken care of.

I understand there was a show at Newton and they had two or three White Negroes in it. If the folks would come down here they could see a great many White Negroes. I suppose you know what I mean (it is soldiers).

There is a lot of work to do before we leave here. Our regiment has to patrol one hundred miles square and the Amnesty Oath is given to every person within this area. All the Rebel Government property has to be brought in and turned over to the authorities of the United States and it will take some time to do all that. I think by the time it is all done it will be between the 10th of August and the first of September. If such is the case I should be home about the 18th of September or a little later. It is very easy to get in the service but a difficult matter to get out.

I wanted to get home so I could make some hay for myself but that question is decided now. If I can I want to buy some calves this fall and I will want some hay. I want you to get me some hay cut if you can and have it stacked at the north side of my stable, if it does not cost too much to have it stacked there. I don't want you to wait for me to come home to make hay as I cannot be there in time. I thought for awhile last spring that I would be home by Fourth of July but I took the Fourth of July in camp at Columbus and I had a piece of roast turkey.

Well Jane, I was to church up town one week ago last night. I seen several ladies there singing. That was the first singing I have heard ladies do since I left home. I am ashamed to tell it but this was the first meeting I have been to since we left old Town Texas.

I look forward to seeing you all soon.

Yours as ever, Silas

Epilogue.

It had been three years of living through the horrors and dangers of war since Union Army Sergeant Silas Storm had his feet planted firmly on Iowa soil. He was now twenty-eight years of age, a mature man, who had grown into his maturity rather quickly when he put on a Union Army uniform and held a weapon in his hands to fight for a just cause. More than 600,000 soldiers died as a result of battle and disease, along with an undetermined number of civilians, but as the war came to an end, it was a victory for slavery, the Union was restored, and the role of the federal government was strengthened.

When Silas stepped off the train in Des Moines, Iowa, he sighed deeply, and stood firmly, taking in the view of everything around him, feeling thrilled his feet were on home ground.

This was the land he loved. And he knew without a doubt he would not leave Iowa to live in another state. He had seen enough of the country, the good, the bad, the ugly, to last his entire lifetime, he was sure.

He would go home to his farm and to his family, and again live as a husband and a father. He wanted to see the golden corn silk glistening in the sunlight of the Iowa summers, run his hands through the moist soil and smell the richness of it, and in the moonlight watch the wheat slowly wave to and fro in a soft breeze.

He would try to put the days of war behind him, yet a part of him knew that many of those things he saw on the battlefields and other places would always stay somewhere in the recesses of his mind. He could only hope that those memories would not come forward too often.

He wanted to remember the boys who were heroes, the ones who did not make it, and the comradery that had developed between him and his fellow soldiers. He wanted to remember Abraham Lincoln who led the Union to victory and was a good leader and a respected friend to the soldiers, and who lost his own life in standing for what he believed in for the betterment of the country. He wanted to remember General Ulysses S. Grant and General William Sherman and their skillful determination to win a war. He wanted to remember the steadfastness and skill of the Negro soldiers who fought for the same cause as he. All those memories he would welcome.

He would be home soon. He picked up his bags and walked toward the waiting wagons.

He saw his grandfather, Alexander, tall and lean, wearing a nice jacket, with s.h.i.+rt and tie, and a hat, looking healthy and hearty.

When Alexander saw him, he tipped his hat. When Silas reached him, he said, "Welcome home, son!"

"Pap, it is great to be home!" He gave his grandfather a hug. "How I missed you all." His eyes were moist but he noticed so were his grandfather's.

Maybe it was time to let go a little and let out some of the emotion that had been hiding away for many months.

On the ride home to his farm he wrote a poem to his beautiful wife, Elizabeth Jane.

"Wife of the Volunteer"

Yes, Jane, I have come, love, across the dark blue sea, To our peaceful, quiet, home, love, our little ones and thee; I've watch'd and waited nightly for the Welcome hour to come, When happily and rightly all the dear delights of home Should greet my listening ear, love, upon my native sh.o.r.e; Then wipe away thy tears, Jane, for I will roam no more.

How often since I left you, love, in solitude and tears, Have I bless'd that love which clung to me through many changing years; And while I paced the silent beat, forgotten and alone, Has my heart recall'd thy love-lit smile, thy sweet and gentle tone.

Thy image, love, has ever been shrined within this fond heart's core; But wipe away thy tears, love, for I will roam no more.

Dear Jane, when in life's sweet morn, in all thy youthful pride, I love thee, Virgin, bathed in tears from thy fond mother's side, And I promised at the alter to love through life as now, Say, Jane, when life's sorrow came, did I forget that Vow?

Your heart will own I left you, love, our Country to restore; Then wipe away thy tears, love, for I will roam no more.

*End*

About the Author.

Linda Pendleton has written in a variety of genres: nonfiction, mystery novels, comic book scripting, and screenplays.

She is known to often say her writing goes "from flying angels to flying bullets," but usually adds, "not in the same book." She coauth.o.r.ed nonfiction and fiction with her late husband, renowned author, Don Pendleton A native Californian, Linda is a member of The Authors Guild, and The Authors League, EPIC Authors, and Sisters in Crime. She was an EPIC Award Finalist in 2001 in the Thriller Category for the Novel, Roulette (previous t.i.tle, One Dark and Stormy Night), and in 2002 was a finalist in the EPIC Nonfiction Philosophy Category for Three Principles of Angelic Wisdom.