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

This is a work of fiction. The main characters and the incidents in their lives are fictional. The setting, historical personages, and events in the Civil War are real.

Chapter 12 << – Index – >> Chapter 14

Chapter Thirteen

One cold January afternoon, Ben came to visit. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come by. They’ve kept us busy fighting off Yankees. Just when we get rid of one bunch, here comes another.”

“You don’t have to feel bad.”

“Well, I do,” he said sincerely. “It’s been breaking my heart to be so close and not be able to see you. We just got back from down around Dandridge. Oh,” Ben said, when he saw Josie. “I didn’t know he’d be here.”

“Where else would he be?” she asked.

“People won’t accept this,” Ben said, pointing to Amanda and then to Josie. “It’s just not right.”

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about this,” she said.

“I should have told you my true feelings when we were in Knoxville, but I had no idea he’d follow you. I certainly didn’t think you’d bring him home with you.”

“What would you have me do with him, Ben?” she asked, perturbed. “Turn him out into the world, with no one to care for him?”

“Saving him from starvation is one thing, but you can’t keep him here forever. You can’t raise him. It wouldn’t be fair to him. He won’t be a true Negro, and he surely can’t be white.”

She turned to Josie, whose face looked very sad. “Why don’t you go lie down for your nap in Barbe’s cabin,” she told him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She followed him to the door and watched until he was out of earshot.

“How dare you say such things in front of him!” she said. “This isn’t a situation I would have chosen, but he loves me, and I won’t treat him badly, no matter what you think.”

“Are you ready to announce to all your neighbors that you’re raising a Negro child?”
* * *
It was late March when Ben came again.

“I’ve been foolish,” he said, his head bowed, “to let this thing about Josie keep me away from you. It’s been killing me. I talked to our chaplain about it, and he helped me see it differently. If you love this little boy, who am I to say it’s wrong?”

“Thank you for that,” she said calmly, “but don’t force me to make a choice between him and you.”

“I’ll never forgive myself for letting that keep us apart, when we have so little time left. We received orders yesterday to return to Virginia immediately,” he explained. “I’ve come to say good-bye.”

They stayed up all night talking. They didn’t consummate their relationship, though it was not for lack of desire. They sat on the old quilt in front of the fire. Josie had fallen asleep on the chaise.

“He looks positively angelic when he’s sleeping,” Ben said, touching Josie’s head. When he looked back at Amanda, there were tears in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“When you were in the kitchen a while ago, he hugged me and begged me not to leave.”

“Now you see. He’s the most loving child I’ve ever known,” Amanda said tearfully. “He’s lost everyone he’s known in his short life. He’s probably afraid he’ll lose me, too.”

They talked a little, kissed a little, but mostly they just held each other.

Toward dawn, Ben begged Amanda to follow him to Virginia. “I’ll fix a small tent for you like I did on the trip from Knoxville, and for Josie, too.”

“I swore if I ever got back to Bluesmoke, I’d never leave it again, and I intend to keep that promise. Six months ago, I would have gone with you, without a second thought for anyone but myself. But not now.”

They were standing on the front terrace. He had already said good-bye three times, but hadn’t moved.

“Will I see you again?” she asked, at the same time he said, “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

She couldn’t look at him. It was too painful.

“I could stay here,” he said, “hide out in the woods. At least we could spend our nights together.”

“We both know you’re not the deserting kind, Ben Braddock. “If you stayed, it would ruin what we have.”

“You’re not going to make this any easier, are you?”

“How can I? We both must do what we must do.”

“My faith in the Southern cause diminishes by the day,” he said. “So many soldiers are deserting. We’ve begun to fight each other as much as we fight the Yankees.”

“But are you ready to give up on it?”

“No, I committed myself to it.”

“And that sense of honor is one of the things I most admire about you.”

She clasped her arms across her chest, as much to keep her hands occupied as to ward off the cold. Finally, he pressed his hands on her waist and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll be careful,” she said, feeling tears spring into her eyes.

She abruptly reached for his hand, and clutched it to her.

“Do you think we’re just clinging to each other because of the war, and the desperate emotions it elicits in us?” she asked.

“No, I don’t,” he said, “but we need some time together.”

“I want that time,” she said, her voice pleading. “I’ve lost two of the men I loved most to this war, and maybe my son. I couldn’t bear to lose another.” She raised his hand and pressed it to her lips.

“I will be back,” he promised emphatically.

Before he passed around the curve in the lane, he looked back. She was standing where he left her. “Damn this war,” she said.

Spring/Summer 1864
Amanda and Josie were surviving, but only because Silver had provided most of their food during the winter. They were all on short rations. She gave Amanda what seeds to plant in the garden at Bluesmoke. The pea plants were already growing, and, hopefully, the corn and beans would soon follow. Potatoes would take a while longer. Amanda salivated at the thought of fresh vegetables.

She received a letter from Ben dated May 8, 1864:
“I hope you and Josie are well. I miss you terribly every day. When army life gets me down, it’s the thought of you waiting for me that keeps me going. We have been involved in the most desperate fighting I have yet seen, in a place called the Wilderness, and it deserves the name in every way. I am shirking my duties to write this letter to you, because a carriage has arrived to carry one of my injured compatriots home to Morristown, and he promises to leave this letter at Bixby’s.
“Not only has my precious General Longstreet been wounded—not fatally, saints be praised—but our gallant General Jenkins was taken from us. I am so hurt I can barely stand it. Jenkins was such a fine gentleman, and so very young.”

She didn’t miss the significance of the name of the location. It was where David was killed. Her heart leapt at the thought of losing Ben in the same godforsaken place. Maybe she had lost him already.
* * *
A young Rebel cavalryman came to the gatepost at Bluesmoke. The underbrush had grown tall in the meadows in front of the house. Amanda hoped that any visitors would assume the house was deserted and go on. She feared that the young rider had been sent by his superiors to take what little food she had left. She didn’t acknowledge his presence until he called out in a rich tenor tone: “Amanda Armstrong, are you here?”

She learned that he was traveling with a few other soldiers, doing reconnaissance work for the Rebels, and brought a letter from Luke. Her hands shook so badly she could hardly get the letter open. It read:

“Mother, I am at Hunter House with Grandmother, and am doing quite well. I have been serving with General John Hunt Morgan, which I’m sure doesn’t surprise you. We returned to Abingdon after another raid into Kentucky. General Morgan has been given command of the Department of Western Virginia and Eastern Tennessee. We should be operating in this area for some time to come. I will pay you a visit as soon as I can.
Grandmother has given me a sound talking to, and tells me that I have caused you much worry since I left home. I am glad to say that I have grown up since joining General Morgan. He has been like a father to me, and I have learned much from him. I must go now. Grandmother sends her love and undying devotion.
I love you, Mother, and I hope you are well.
Luke.”

Amanda collapsed in tears on the front terrace. Josie ran to see what was the matter.

“You should be happy,” he said, when she told him about the letter. “Luke is alive.”

“I am happy,” she said, drying her eyes.

“Why do grown folks cry when they’re happy?” he asked, a little perturbed.

“It’s just too much joy to keep inside, I guess,” she said.
* * *
When Amanda arrived at the hut, Silver was sitting in a chair on the porch. She held a piece of paper in her hand, which appeared to have something scrawled across it.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked.

“Another message from my friend, Judie Baker,” Silver said nonchalantly. “I wasn’t here
when he came by, but he always leaves me a message.”

“What does it say?” Amanda asked, reaching for the paper. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

“I went to the mission school,” Silver said defensively, holding the paper close to her chest. “I can read and write English as well as you can. And Sequoyah’s Cherokee language, too.”

“I know,” Amanda said. “I wasn’t thinking. What does it say?”

“It’s another invitation to remove myself from his property.”

“I’m afraid he’ll harm you one of these days,” Amanda said.

“Oh, Judie doesn’t have enough courage to kill an insect,” Silver said.

“Silver, please.”

“I will leave these woods only when you carry me to the burial ground.”

“Why must I carry you?”

“You are the only family I have,” Silver said.

“Well, I have some news that will lift your spirits.”

“Tell me!”

“Luke is at Mother’s and will come to see us soon,” she said, dancing around the clearing.

“Many thanks to the Creator,” Silver shouted, raising her arms skyward.

“You are so beautiful when you smile,” Amanda said.

“Sure,” Silver said, touching her face, “with these old scars?”

“I don’t see them anymore,” Amanda said.
* * *
“Are you ashamed of me, Miss Mandy?” Josie asked one day.

“No, Josie.” She paused and looked closely at him. “Why would you ask such a question?”

“Because I have to hide when somebody comes.”

“Well—uh—people might not understand about you and me.”

He turned his head to one side, scrunched his face up, and asked, “Why not? ‘Cause I’m dark and you white?”

“Yes,” she said gently. “Some people wouldn’t understand.”

A while later, she heard him singing. She crept up to the open door.

“My Mama loves me,” he sang. “My Mama loves me.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she knew it was time to do what she had been putting off for months.
***
Amanda had kept her promise about breaking the lock on the church doors, and had begun to have meetings at the church on Sunday mornings. She wouldn’t pretend to be a minister, but she could certainly read some scripture and lead the congregation in singing a few hymns. The Widow Wilkes was delighted when Amanda asked her to play the organ. After they sang, she invited the parishioners to talk about the problems they were having, or to pass information on to the others.

Only a few locals came at first, but Amanda had vowed not to be disappointed if no one came. But every week, a few more people showed up. She didn’t know if it was because they missed church so much or if they had decided she wasn’t such a bad person, after all.

She always felt better after the services, but when she got home, all the good feelings quickly vanished.

Sunday, July 17, 1864
Amanda waited on the front stoop until the noise inside died down a little. She looked down at Josie’s inquisitive face.

“Hold your head high, Josie,” she whispered to him. “Don’t be frightened.”

He nodded his head, but he looked terrified.

She opened the double doors, and they marched down the long aisle to the altar of Calvary Baptist Church. Amanda approached the pulpit, and faced the congregation. Josie retreated behind her skirts, but she pulled him forward, and placed her hand firmly on his shoulder. She cleared her throat loudly.

“I—uh—found this little Negro boy on my way to Knoxville, where I lived a few months last autumn” she announced in a very shaky voice. “His name’s Josiah Turner; he’s got no family left, so he’s working on my place for food and a place to sleep.”

That wasn’t at all what she had planned to say.

Crocker stood up—this was the first meeting he had attended. “Niggers got to set in the back,” he said loudly.

“Josie can sit in the Armstrong family pew,” she said calmly.

“That’s not right,” Crocker said. “The other darkies have to sit in the back.”

Amanda ignored Crocker, and he finally sat down.

“For weeks, I’ve been studying the scriptures, and trying to write a sermon.” Her hands shook violently as they gripped the pulpit. “Doing Bible readings is fine, but a good sermon can renew the spirit. I’m determined to try to preach a sermon to you this morning, but please be patient with me.”

“This is wrong,” Crocker screamed. “I will not have this in my church!”

“What will you not have?” Amanda asked.

“These people deserve to know the truth about you,” he shouted. He walked quickly to the front of the church and turned to face the women and the old men in attendance.

“Sure, she’s all prim and proper now,” Crocker continued.

“Sir, I will ask you to take your seat so I can begin my sermon,” Amanda said firmly.

“Ask her about that Confederate soldier who stayed overnight at her house.”

“We did nothing wrong,” Amanda said quickly.

“You are his inamorata, are you not?” Crocker asked.

“His what?”

“Aha,” he said, looking awfully pleased. “Did I find a word you don’t know the meaning of, Mrs. Armstrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about.”

“Oh, I’m quite disappointed in you, Mrs. Armstrong,” Crocker said. “You always know all them fancy words—like karma.”

The old goat never forgets anything.

“It means you are his lover.”

“I most certainly am not!” she shouted. “The captain has gone back to Virginia.”

“I observed you from the woods the morning he left, as you clutched each other’s hands,” Crocker said. “Quite a touching little scene. Almost brought tears to these old eyes.”

“I don’t like your insinuations,” Amanda said.

“And you a married woman. Tsk, tsk.”

“Get out of here,” Amanda shouted, “if you have nothing to say but lies.”

But Crocker was just getting wound up. She could walk out, but she was determined to face whatever came.

“And I’m sure she has money—Yankee money. Ask her how she got it?” Crocker said, turning to look at Amanda.

“You should get your facts straight before you make a fool of yourself,” Amanda finally managed to say. “I have no money. I’m as poor as the rest of you.”

“She was what they call ‘a lady of the evening’ in Knoxville, but I don’t think what she did was ladylike at all.”

The women looked to Amanda for a denial. She just stood there, stunned.

How did he find out about that?

“You may beat me down,” Amanda finally said, “but you will not defeat me, sir.”

“I won’t listen to a whore with a nigger baby! Get out!” he shouted, pointing toward the door.

“I will not,” Amanda said, sounding much more confident than she felt.

“Come on, folks,” Crocker said to the congregation. “Let’s throw this harlot out.”

Nobody moved.

“Then, if you won’t help me get rid of her, let’s leave. She can’t preach to an empty house.”

He reached the door and noticed no one was following him.

“Come on, you cowards, “ he yelled. “ Don’t you have the gumption to see her for what she is

Crocker stormed out of the church.

As relieved as Amanda was to have Crocker gone, his absence left a great silence between her and the people in the pews, whose approval she needed more than anything else at that moment.

“Yes, I have sinned,” Amanda finally said, eyes downcast. “I won’t deny it.”

Please, God, help me through this.

“Don’t condemn me unless you have been in my place,” she said, forcing herself to look at the congregation. “I made mistakes while I was in Knoxville. I am sickened now by my actions.”

She stopped, cleared her throat, and began again.

“Once you leave behind the world as you know it, you don’t come back the same. You bring back part of what you got into while you were out there. I wasn’t prepared for the hardships I would face.”

A buzz of whispers spread through the room.

“I thought I was a liberal-minded person. I gave my only slave her freedom, because it was the right thing to do. But when it came to this little boy—if he hadn’t followed me, he wouldn’t be here today. I brought him home with me, but only because my conscience wouldn’t allow me to leave him out there on the road.”

She now had everyone’s undivided attention.

“Yes, I was ashamed to have Josie living in my house. I admit it!” she said, much louder than she had intended.

She heard Josie gasp.

“I wouldn’t let him go outside in the daylight because I was afraid somebody would see him, and I left him alone when I came to church. I convinced myself that I did those things for his safety. I was hoping to do this gradually, but I am compelled to tell you how I feel right now.”

“I love this child. I couldn’t love him more if I had given birth to him. You wouldn’t believe how smart he is. He has a kind and gentle heart. There’s not a spot of bitterness in him, though he’s seen lots of troubled times in his short life.

“This is my son, Josiah Turner,” she said proudly, urging his forward again. “We will keep his surname because of the respect he has for the father who gave him life. All that we ask is to be left alone to live our lives together.

“I fed him and gave him shelter where no one knew me, but I was ashamed to tell you that I had a Negro boy living with me. How would I explain that to my friends?”

She laughed out loud.

“Don’t you see the humor in that?” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I have no friends here. You people have never liked me.”

Amanda grabbed Josie’s hand and walked quickly out of the church. Widow caught up to her in the churchyard.

“Don’t allow those narrow-minded people to upset you,” Widow said. “I think it’s a wonderful thing, you saving that boy’s life.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do, and you shouldn’t allow anyone to criticize you for that.”

“Well, thank you,” Amanda stammered.

Chapter 12 << – Index – >> Chapter 14