Tennessee Twilight: A Civil War Novel – Free Online Novel – Webnovel

 

November 1863
Amanda heard almost daily of events in the counties of northeastern Tennessee. Stories spread rapidly from the soldiers who were returning from that area. She worried about Bluesmoke. Did coming here save her life? Would she be caught up in everything that was happening there if she had stayed? How could she ever get back home? Could she survive another trip like the one that got her to Knoxville?

Amanda and Johnson settled into a comfortable existence. He had a nice suite of rooms on the top floor of the hotel. His employees took care of the cleaning and the cooking, and Amanda had free time to do as she pleased. He had someone to sleep with at night—he was usually too tired to do anything else, which suited her fine.

Josiah Turner came to the hotel one evening, looking for Amanda. Lily told Amanda that the doorman had kicked Josiah out into the street. He looked about as bedraggled as one could imagine.

“What happened to you?” Amanda asked him.

“I ran away from the contraband camp,” he said. “It’s dirty and smelly and full of sickness. My Aunt Vinie’s baby died,” he said sadly.

“Well, I’ve got some ideas about helping the folks in this city who don’t have enough to eat.”

She sneaked Josiah upstairs to her room and fed him some bacon she had left from breakfast. He was feverish and exhausted. She laid him on her bed and told him to stay there. He would have to leave before Johnson came to bed.

Amanda visited her old friend, the kitchen manager, at the Brandywine Hotel. “Will you consider donating your leftover food to the poor homeless refugees in this city?”

“We don’t have much leftover food, but I’ll sell it to you.”

“You have a price for everything, don’t you?”

“Get out of my office!” he stormed.

“All right—all right, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm him down. “Do you ever have milk left over?”

“Rarely.”

“Coffee?”

“Never.”

“Scraps, potato peelings, whatever,” she told him. “I’ll take it all.”

“Very well, I’ll work up some prices for you,” he said. “You’ll have to pay cash money for whatever I have each day.”

“Lock it in your office at night, and I’ll come get it in the morning,” she said, her mind racing. “Can I use the stove in the kitchen if I need to cook something?”

“Only before 5:30 in the morning,” he said.

She went to every restaurant owner in town, and convinced some of them to sell or donate something. It took weeks to get everything arranged, but it was worth the effort. She was amazed at how much better she felt.

Johnson rarely came to bed before midnight, and she got up at four-thirty in the morning to gather the food contributions and prepare what needed to be cooked. She invited the people she knew from the alley where she had slept, and that now included Josiah Turner. They came to the back door of the hotel, and she served them whatever she had been able to collect that morning. She also swore them to secrecy—if they told others that they were being fed, there would be trouble.

One afternoon, Amanda saw an old man lying in the street. She ran to him and tried to help him get up, but he couldn’t stand. He didn’t speak, but his plaintive eyes begged her to help him. She ran to the hotel kitchen and bought a piece of bread, and filled her canteen with water.

She got down on her knees and held the man’s head up. She tried to put a small piece of bread in his mouth, but he grabbed the canteen and tipped it up. Some water went into his mouth; most of it ran down his cheeks and into his ears.

She was trying to get the bread into his mouth again, when Johnson arrived.

“So this is how you repay my kindness!” Johnson screamed. “This is food bought with my money!”

“I beg your humble pardon, sir,” she shouted, standing up, “but I earned every penny of this money, and no one knows that better than you!”

He slapped her cheek with the back of his hand, with an audible smack. She fell to the ground, almost landing on the old man. Blood flowed from the inside of her cheek and out the corner of her mouth.

“This man is dying of starvation and thirst,” she said, covering her mouth to hide the blood. “Do you expect me to walk over him?”

“No, you walk on him! You feel sorry for his kind today, and you’ll be back down there with him tomorrow.”

“We can both live if I give him a little of my food. What’s wrong with that?”

“Do not backtalk me!”

A crowd of men had gathered around them, and they were egging Johnson on. She didn’t know how many times he hit her after that.

When she regained consciousness, she was still lying in the street.

Two well-dressed women passed by; one of them spat at her. “You finally got what you deserve,” she said.

Amanda made it to the alley behind the shoe shop. Josiah was there. He was frightened by her appearance.

“Misty, you’re bleeding,” he gasped, seeing her swollen face and the terrible gash in her lip.

“Help me to the hotel,” she mumbled.

People in the lobby gasped and stared. Leaning on Josiah, she finally made it to her room. He helped her into bed.

“Cold water and a cloth,” she whispered.

“Don’t die, Misty,” Josiah said as he ran to the dry sink.

“I’m not dying,” she mumbled, through swollen and bleeding lips. She rubbed his curly hair as he pressed the cold cloth gently to her face.

Lily came as soon as she heard, and found Josiah crying.

“You really love Amanda, don’t you?” Lily asked him.

“Yes’m,” he sobbed.

“You have to leave right away,” Lily said. “You won’t be safe if Mr. Johnson finds out you’re still here. I’ve never seen him behave this way.”

“I could no longer turn a blind eye to those poor people.”

“Well, it was foolish,” Lily insisted, “and I hope I can get you out of trouble. Fortunately, I haven’t sold my mother’s house out on the Kingston Road—not that anyone would be interested in purchasing a property that has been so overrun by the mechanisms of war.”

“Is it dangerous?” Amanda asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s all I have to offer,” Lily said, sounding a little aggravated.

“Forgive me, please. I must admit, I’m feeling quite desperate.”

“And well you should,” Lily said a little more patiently. “Go back to the alley where I found you. Stay quiet and keep out of sight. I’ll send Isaac, my driver, before daybreak. Be ready to leave as soon as he arrives. You’ll have no time to dawdle.”

“Won’t you be coming with me?” Amanda asked.

“I haven’t been there since my mother’s funeral last year,” Lily said wistfully.

“Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of her,” Josiah said.

“You can’t take him with you,” Lily said. “He won’t like staying inside all the time. You’ll have to feed him. And I hear General Longstreet’s Rebels are all over the place out there. They care even less about little Negro boys than the Yankees here in town. They’ll just haul him off to the contraband camp again.”

“I’m sorry, Josiah,” Amanda said, “you can’t go with me.”

He began to wail.

“Josiah, please,” Amanda begged.

Lily grabbed his head and clamped her hand over his mouth. “Do you want to get Amanda killed?”

He shook his head, his big eyes bulging.

“Then you have to keep quiet.”

He nodded his head.

“I’ll send as much food as I can collect,” Lily told her. “What with the Rebels allowing no traffic into the city from that direction, it won’t be much. And the Yankees are picking the city clean so General Burnside has a full table—never mind the rest of us. Everybody’s hoarding what little they have.”

“Why can’t I stay here?”

“Girl, I’m afraid of what Johnson will do if he sees you again.”

Amanda began to weep. “Every time I try to make my life better, it only gets worse.”

“If you’re to live through this, you have to quit feeling sorry for yourself! All of the doors and windows on the main floor of my mother’s house have been boarded up. There’s a good supply of dry wood on the enclosed porch—if nobody’s made off with it—but you’ll only be able to use the fireplace at night. If the soldiers see smoke coming from the chimney, they’ll surely come to see why. I know it will be dark and dreary, but it’s the best I can do.”

Lily washed Amanda’s wounds and applied some ointment she brought from her room—she also brought a black veil to cover Amanda’s swollen face.

They quickly gathered Amanda’s belongings, vacated her room, and sneaked out the back door of the hotel.
***
Under different circumstances, Amanda would have enjoyed the ride to Lily’s mother’s house. As it was, she slumped onto the seat and rested her veiled head against the cushioned inside wall of the carriage. They passed through the city streets, then onto a narrow country road.

She was conscious of the lack of trees and shrubs one would expect to see alongside such a rural road. It appeared that the entire country south and west of town had been completely denuded of every living plant. Not a bush nor blade of grass remained in the yard. The lawn had been rubbed down to the barrenness of the brown earth.

Lily had told Amanda her family’s tragic story. Her father had owned a large plantation in middle Tennessee, and built this house as a summer residence for her mother. Soon after the war began, his slaves deserted him; he lost his plantation, and committed suicide. Lily went to work in Knoxville, and maintained this home for her mother until her death.

It was a modest wooden structure, a rectangle, with the long side facing the road. A one-story porch ran the full length of the front. There was a large stone chimney at each end of the house. When Isaac turned the carriage onto a path that ran alongside the house,

Amanda saw that there was a one-story addition on the back of the house.

“We’ll have to enter here,” Isaac said, as he helped Amanda down from the carriage.

With a claw hammer, he removed the boards that covered the back door. The door opened into an enclosed porch. He then unlocked the door into the kitchen, which occupied the other half of the addition.

The interior was very nice, but not a shaft of light from the early dawn penetrated the windowpanes. The exterior and interior shutters were closed up tight. The only furniture left in the entire house was a sofa in the parlor, and two old beds in the sleeping rooms upstairs. She dragged the sofa and a straw mattress to the kitchen, where she would make her living space. It was small, easy to heat, and she could cook there as well.

After dark, she found a few cracks in the shutters, and saw dozens of campfires. Indeed, there were soldiers everywhere. If she had doubted it before, she doubted it no longer.
She cooked what little food she had, and rationed it stringently, not knowing how long it would be before Isaac came again. She was lonesome and troubled, and slept hours on end—anything to avoid having to think.

But, in her waking hours, she couldn’t help thinking about what had happened to her in Knoxville. But she had been fortunate—though she was reluctant to admit it at the moment, when the pain in her head was almost unbearable. After those first terrifying weeks, she hadn’t suffered severely for the lack of food or shelter.

But she had paid a high price for her comforts, and, now that she had hours to contemplate her behavior, she had to face the reality of what she had done. She had discovered that, as Johnson so rudely pointed out, she was just like everybody else. And she was having a difficult time accepting that. Self-forgiveness would be a long time in coming.
* * *
The cobwebs of deep sleep were beginning to clear. There was a sound. Was there a sound? She gasped and held her breath. Had she been dreaming? What time was it? She let out a breath and sucked in another. She was in total darkness. Only a few embers remained of the fire she had set before lying down. She quickly added a few logs to the fire, and lay back down on the mattress beside the hearth.

She jumped when she heard footsteps on the front porch. She opened the kitchen door and crept through the parlor.

“I know someone’s in there,” a voice boomed—a male voice.

She didn’t know what to do.

“The moon’s as bright as day out here, and I see the smoke from your chimney.”

Amanda had no idea the moon was shining brightly.

“I’m not here to harm anyone,” the voice said. “Any scrap of food would be greatly appreciated. When you’re on picket duty, all you do is think about what you’d like to be eating.”

She hesitated. If he was on picket duty, he must be a soldier, most likely a Confederate soldier. If what Lily had told her was accurate, he was one of General Longstreet’s men. The thought of opening the door to any soldier caused her great panic.

She crossed to the parlor window. The shutters were closed tightly. There was no way she could see what the man looked like. She stood against the wall, just inside the front door, panicked and frightened, until she heard the footsteps exit the porch.
***
She was awakened the following evening in the same manner.

“I’m not leaving this time,” the voice said, “so you might as well open the door.”

“As you can see, the door is boarded shut,” she said in as gruff a voice as she could manage. “Go away!”

“Can I at least warm myself before I have to walk back to my fire?” the man said. “It’s unbearably cold out here.”

Something in his pleading voice assuaged her fear a little.

“Go around to the back, and I’ll let you in,” she said. “And pray you don’t harm me,” she whispered, as she grabbed the long cape Lily had given her and put it on over her nightgown.

What she saw when she opened the door was a tall man with a pleasing face, and sandy blonde hair. He was dressed in a tattered gray uniform and a thin wool coat.
“Please be assured, ma’am, I won’t hurt you,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Are you alone?”

How to answer that question? “For the moment,” she stuttered.

He had a very handsome face, she decided after he came into the firelight. She sat down on one end of the settee; he, on the other—much too close for her comfort, so she got up and stood by the fireplace. His hands were red and shivering from the cold, and he extended them closer to the fire.

“Captain Ben Braddock,” he said, “glad to make your acquaintance, Mrs.—Miss—”

“Armstrong—Amanda.”

“I’m with Longstreet’s corps,” he said. “We had a spirited fight with General Burnside’s troops most of the way from Chattanooga.”

“I have no food,” she said abruptly.

“That’s fine, ma’am. At least I can get warm. We’re on short rations until our supply train arrives.”

“What time is it?” she asked, still trying to clear her head.

He pulled out his pocket watch. “Twenty past nine, ma’am.”

“It seems much later,” she said shyly, suddenly remembering that she was in her nightclothes in the presence of a man she didn’t know. She wrapped the cape tighter around her.

“I could use some information about some of the lesser-used roads and trails in these parts,” he said. “We hear that people are coming and going by roundabout means over here. I need to know where to post my pickets, so I can stop this activity.”

“I can’t help you there,” she said, relaxing a little. “This house belongs to a friend. I’ve only been here a few days.”

“Then I will take my leave now,” he said, standing. “Is there anything I can do for you before I go? How about I fill your wood box?”

“Yes, that would be greatly appreciated,” she mumbled. She thought she should be frightened of him, but she wasn’t.

“Then I’ll let you get back to sleep,” he said after carrying in three armloads of wood.

“With your hair down—I assume you were sleeping,” he stammered.

She nodded.

“Then, good night to you, ma’am.”

He passed through the kitchen door, and waved to her as he exited the porch.

Why did she suddenly feel all tingly?

Captain Braddock returned the following evening, at about the same time, knocking at the back door and calling out her name.

“Did I awaken you?” he asked.

“No,” she said, walking back into the kitchen. She had been unable to sleep. Was she hoping he would come back?

“Last night I was merely doing my duty,” he said. “Tonight’s visit is personal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his face reddening. “I sometimes have trouble saying exactly what I mean, especially in the company of women. What I meant was I wanted to see you again, if that’s all right with you.”

“That’s fine,” she said shyly. “Your speech is unusual. Where are you from?”

“That’s my backwoods Georgia drawl,” he said. “I’ve lived there all my life. I was still living there—with my mother and father—before I joined the army.”

“You never married?” she asked. She thought he must be at least in his mid-thirties.

“The love of my life died of scarlet fever at the age of seventeen. After that, I worked so hard in my father’s store, I never courted much.”

How odd.

“Most of the women I’ve seen since the war began are those poor fallen women who follow the camps, hoping to find someone who will feed and shelter them. Some are quite beautiful, but I could never take up with one of them. Never,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

Amanda gasped, but was able to maintain her composure. She knew she should tell him about her life in Knoxville right then, but she would never see this man again. What did it matter?

He had a strong prominent nose, and the truest blue eyes she had ever seen adorned his face. He was startlingly handsome from head to toe, despite the worn and soiled garments that covered his frame. He caught her looking at him, studying his face in the firelight.

She blushed.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be out here all alone?” he asked suddenly.

“Probably, but it’s the only place I have to stay right now.”

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t ask,” she said quickly.

And, he didn’t.

“Would it be agreeable if we spent some time together?” he asked shyly. “I haven’t had an intelligent conversation in months.”

“Why do you think you’d have one with me?”

“Oh, I can tell,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. “You’re smart, all right.”

She felt the color rise in her face again. She didn’t want to tell him that she was just as interested in him. Nor did she want to tell him she was married. She didn’t feel married anymore.

He visited her every night for almost two weeks. She had never known a man so easy to talk to, or so kind. He worried about her welfare, brought food when he could, and made sure she always had firewood. He was amazingly well read for a backwoods country boy. He had to check his pocket watch because time easily slipped away when they were together.

One day he came by just long enough to tell her that he had been ordered to take a position farther north, in preparation for an attack on the Union detachment that was fortifying a place called Fort Loudon.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this. Our visits have been very special to me.”

“To me, as well,” she said. His visits had made her recent days bearable.

“It won’t be easy for me to get away, but I’ll come every chance I get,” he promised.

“Please do,” she said.

At the back door, as he prepared to leave, she was self-conscious. She wanted to touch him, to hug him, to do something to convey her feelings without being too forward. She could see that he was in the same dilemma. Finally, he reached for her hands and clutched them tightly to his breast, and then kissed them with soft sensuous lips. Tears stung her eyes as he walked through the backdoor, pausing to give her one last look.

Later that day, when Lily’s driver came to bring her more food, Josiah was with him.

“This boy has pestered me every hour of every day since I brought you here,” Isaac said.

“I’m tired of it. So here he is. Do with him what you will.”

“I can’t take care of him here,” Amanda said.

“Then, that’s too bad,” Isaac said. “I asked Miss Lily, and she said to bring him. She sent a little extra food along for him.”

Josiah followed her every step. When she was cooking the potato skins Isaac had brought, she knocked him on his backside, not knowing that he was behind her.

“This has to stop, young man,” she said sternly. “I can’t even go to the privy without you following me!”

“I’m sorry, Misty—”

“No!”

“Sorry, Amanda,” he said, his eyes pleading. “I’m just so glad to be with you.”

“Well, you can be with me without walking on my heels.” She was trying to be patient, but she wasn’t prepared to care for him. Her life was complicated enough, thank you very much! She was missing Captain Braddock already, and feared she would never see him again.

She grew to enjoy Josiah’s company. The food Isaac brought wasn’t adequate, but they managed. They talked, laughed, and played games. She told him bedtime stories, the same ones she had once told Luke. She thought living with him in that enclosed dark space would bring her nothing but more problems, but he behaved very well. Her depression lessened a little.

The following Sunday morning, Amanda and Josiah were asleep in the kitchen. Before dawn, a cacophony of rifle fire awoke them, closely followed by a blast of artillery, and it was very close. They ran as quickly as they could, grabbing clothes and shoes as they went, and didn’t stop until they were in the cellar. At least it wasn’t as loud down there. A single shot rang out here and there, not a sound for several minutes, then cannons going off all at one time. They were relieved when everything stopped after only half an hour.

Captain Braddock came to the house later that day. He had been occupied with preparations for the assault.

“We were sleeping when it began, but we ran to the cellar in a hurry,” Amanda said.

“We?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face

“Josiah is napping,” she said, motioning to the mattress in the corner of the kitchen.

“Who’s that?”

“This little Negro boy who’s latched onto me. He seems to follow me wherever I go.”
* * *
Thursday, December 3, 1863
Captain Braddock hadn’t visited in several days. Amanda heard his horse arrive that evening, and ran to meet him in the backyard.

“General Longstreet’s siege of Knoxville has come to naught,” he explained. “When he heard General Sherman was bringing Union reinforcements, he announced that we will be withdrawing to the northeast, toward Greeneville.”

“Ben,” Amanda said excitedly, “that’s near my home!”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her close to him.

“In the morning, I will be leaving,” he told her. “I want to be with you tonight.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, turning her back to him, “you are like the rest after all.”

“What?”

“Go away!” she shouted, walking quickly toward the house.

She ran up the steps and into the house. Ben caught up to her on the enclosed porch.

“I was cold and starving, sleeping in alleyways. I did what I had to do to live!” She was crying openly now, and angry with herself for being brought to tears.

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked.

“How crazy am I?” She laughed out loud, and turned away from him. “To think a decent man would want me after what I’ve become.” Tears slid down her cheeks, but she brushed them away as soon as they fell, continually wiping her face with both hands.

“I don’t understand,” Ben said.

“I’m one of those ‘fallen women’ you were talking about the other day.” She entered the kitchen and tried to close the door, sure that he would be repulsed by her confession.

“No,” he said, pushing against the door, “I don’t doubt for a minute that you did what you had to do.”

“You know and still—”

“Yes, still,” he said, grabbing her hands, kissing her fingertips.

Her heart succumbed.

They held each other on the settee, in the firelight. Ben told Amanda of the disastrous attack on Fort Loudon, and he seemed quite disturbed by what had happened there.

She finally told him what happened to her in Knoxville, about her life at Bluesmoke, and her marriage.

“Knowing that you’re married—then I should leave right now,” he whispered.

“Yes, you should.”

“You must be the strong one,” he whispered, as they embraced, “for I cannot bring myself to leave you.”

“And I can’t push you away,” she said softly, as they kissed for the first time.

A few hours later, Ben gripped Amanda’s hands tightly as he prepared to leave. “I guess we’ll be looking for a place to hole up for the winter. There won’t be much fighting until spring. Will you stay here until the war is over?” he asked.

“Let me go with you,” she said. “I want to go home.”

“No,” he said firmly. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t go back to what I was, and living in this dark place depresses me more every day. I can follow the army so I don’t lose my way, can’t I? And you could bring me a little food. This might be the only chance I’ll ever have to go home.”

“I really wish you’d stay here. The weather’s turning nasty, and I’m not sure how much time I can spend with you. It won’t be an easy trip, I assure you.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going home, with or without anyone’s help.”

“All right,” he finally said. “You can travel behind the army. My regiment’s taking up the rear, so we’ll be the last to leave. Maybe I can sneak you into camp at night so you won’t have to sleep out—Oh, please reconsider,” he begged again. “This whole idea scares me.”

“No, I won’t change my mind.”

“Then I’d rather you come with me than to set out on your own.”

“Oh,” she said suddenly, “what about Josiah?”

“You can’t take a child that young on a trip like this. We’re going to be moving out at a pretty good clip. And I don’t know how many days of this cold rainy weather we’ll have to endure. It looks to me like it’s set in for a spell.”

“He’ll be heartbroken,” she said. “He’s been nothing but kind to me; it’s not fair to desert him now.”

“You’ll have a much better chance at safe passage if you’re alone.”

“You’re right,” she said reluctantly.

“You have to be ready in three hours. Can you get a horse?”

“I might be able to get one from Lily,” she said, her mind racing.
* * *
“Josiah, it’s time for me to go home,” Amanda said firmly, but gently.

“You have a home?” he asked.

“I once did. I hope it’s still there.”

He nodded.

“I have a son,” she explained. “Lucas is his name. I should be at home in case he tries to contact me.”

“You miss him, huh?”

“More than anything, and I would endure hell to have him with me again.”

“Can’t I go with you? I won’t be no trouble,” he said.

“No, it’s a long, hard trip that I’m not looking forward to myself, and it’s much colder now than when I came here in September.”

“Please,” he begged, huge tears rolling down his brown cheeks.

“I have no way to care for you. If you stay here, you can beg on the streets. With that darling face and that sweet smile,” Amanda said, cupping his chin in her hand. “I’ll ask Lily to help you if you get into trouble.”

“I hoped if I was real good, maybe you could be my mother.”

“You don’t want me to be your mother, Josiah.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I’m a very good one.”

“Please, don’t go,” he pleaded, hugging her legs so tightly she couldn’t move. “You’re not sick anymore. You can work.”

“I can’t go back to that, Josiah. Not ever. If I don’t leave this place while I have the chance, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to leave. I know you don’t understand, and I don’t know how to make it clear to you. You’ll just have to trust that I’m doing what’s best.”
She pulled his strong little arms from around her legs and walked quickly away. She ran out of the alley, and down the street, until she could no longer hear his heartbreaking sobs.
***
“This is Molly,” Lily said at the stables. The horse rubbed her nose against Lily’s arm, wanting to be petted. “She’s a little swaybacked, poor girl, but kind of heart. If you treat her moderately well, she should be able to see you home. It will be good for her to get out of town.”

“How much will you take for her?” Amanda asked, digging into the bodice of her dress where she had stashed her last little bit of money.

“She was a gift to me at a time when I needed her badly. Now she is my gift to you.”

“Oh, I won’t take her without paying.”

“Yes, you will,” Lily said. “You will take her as a favor to me.”

“I’ve spent the last few hours thinking about walking back home, the same way I came,” Amanda sighed. “To my tired eyes, she’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen. How can I repay you for such kindness?”

“You just did.”

Amanda could see that Molly had once been a beauty, chestnut brown, part Arabian. She rubbed her nose and looked into her warm brown eyes.

“Rest assured that she will be treasured and cared for. I’ll miss you, Lily,” Amanda said, hugging Lily, “but I want to go home. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“You might be safer staying in Mother’s house, especially now that Longstreet’s leaving, but I know it’s not safe anywhere,” Lily said.

“You’ve been a good friend, and I will never forget you. If you’re ever in the neighborhood of Greene County, come by to see me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Lily said, smiling. “It’s doubtful that I will ever leave Knoxville. I have made a place for myself here. Most people would say it’s not a good place, but I rather like it.”

“If I’m lucky enough to make it back home, I don’t intend to ever leave it again.”

“I bid you Godspeed, Amanda Armstrong,” Lily said, and kissed Amanda’s cheek.
***
Amanda woke up in a small tent, at the edge of the woods near the main camp of General Longstreet’s army. She tried to sit up but something was tugging at her arm.

“Josiah, what are you doing here?” she said loudly, unable to comprehend how he could have possibly found her.

“I left right behind you and kept you in my sights,” he said, nodding his head.

“How did you come all this way?”

“An old slave man gave me a ride in his wagon for a long ways. Then I started off on the run. It’s easy to follow a great big army. I knew you’d be somewhere close by.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, young man,” she said, rubbing his curly brown head, “but I’m glad to know you’re safe.”

“I just couldn’t let you leave me, Misty,” he said. “We belong together.”

“No, we don’t. “We come from different worlds. I can’t be your mother, and I can’t take care of you. I don’t know how I’m going to care for myself if all the stories I hear are true. Why can’t I make you understand that?”

“I just can’t stand to be without you.”

“You’re mighty hardheaded for such a little fellow, you know?”

“Yes’m, I know, but I always thought when you find something you want you better go after it.” He smiled, his eyes twinkled, and there was a look of total contentment on his face.

“This camp life’s not for me,” Amanda told Ben later that day. “I’m going home.”

“But you’ll have no one to protect you,” Ben said.

“I can protect myself,” she said, but inside she was trembling with fear.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, “I asked for a few days’ leave, but my request was denied. A large detachment of Yankees has followed us from Knoxville and may attack us at any time. The least I can do is to provide you with a way to defend yourself,” he said, handing her a small revolver.

“I’ll be fine.” I know most of the country from here to Bluesmoke.”

“There are soldiers everywhere—ours and theirs. Promise you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.”

“I feel like I’m deserting you,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, please. You must do your duty.” She reached for his hand.

He surprised her by grabbing her and holding her close to him. Josiah wrapped one of his arms around Ben’s legs, the other around Amanda’s.

What a pitiful sight we must be. A Confederate soldier, a reformed whore, and an orphaned Negro boy, clutching each other in the fog and damp of a late fall morning in the mountains of northeastern Tennessee.

Chapter 10 << – Index – >> Chapter 12