Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine (24 page)

“
What are you goin
’
on about, Willy?
”
Savannah
asked as everyone stood from their chairs.

It was Nate who explained.

“
Me and Willy…we heard y
’
all talkin
’
,
”
he began,
“
but don
’
t get mad at us, Mama…
’
cause we had to listen!
We knew somethin
’
was wrong…somethin
’
other than just that dead man out in the woods.
”

“
Nate Turner!
”
Savannah
scolded.

But Nate did not pause.
“
So me and Willy…we decided we
’
d go out and bury that ol
’
dead Confederate who come lookin
’
for Johnny.
We figured if we buried him and never told anybody
,
everything would be fine!
”

“
Nate!
”
Savannah
began again.

“
But, Mama!
When we snuck out the window of the bedroom
,
after we got a shovel from the barn
,
when we got to where we first found that dead Johnny Reb…he
’
s gone, Mama!
He ain
’
t there no more!
I coulda sworn he was dead
,
one arm almost gnawed clean off by somethin
’
.
But he must notta been dead!
He
’
s gone
. H
e musta just up and walked away or somethin
’
!
”

“
Walked away?
”
Savannah
asked, bewildered.
“
Dead men
—
especially ones that animals have been chewin
’
on
—
do not just get up and walk away
,
Nate Turner!
”
Savannah
shook her head.
“
What am I doin
’
?
I
’
m sittin
’
her
e
talkin
’
about a dead man like it
’
s the most everyday thing in the world!
”

“
What do ya mean he
’
s gone, Nate?
”
Caleb asked.
“
You mean…you mean you boys went out there
,
and there ain
’
t no body?
”

Willy and Nate both nodded
,
tears of joyous relief in their eyes.

“
Not anymore.
He
’
s gone, Caleb,
”
Willy said.
“
And me and Nate…we didn
’
t do nothin
’
.
He
’
s just gone.
We figure nothin
’
coulda ate him all up
,
and all of us…well, all of us were here
,
so none of us drug him off.
He
’
s gone.
He
’
s just…gone.
”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Vivianna pressed the clothes peg onto the line to hold one of Caleb
’
s shirts.
She sighed
,
glad that all the men
’
s freshly washed shirts were hung out to dry.
It would take them all day to dry, no doubt
,
for already the air was thick and balmy.
She set the basket of remaining clothes pegs on the ground near one clothesline pole and started back toward the house.

It was a glorious
Alabama
morning
.
A large yellow and black butterfly flitted close
,
and Vivianna paused to watch it gracefully alight on a large purple clematis
bloom
nearby.
The striking yellow of the butterfly against the deep purple of the flower caused Vivianna to smile with a sense of serene joy.
Beauty was returning to the world
,
and Vivianna was thankful for it.

Over the past month, it seemed as if everything had at last begun to settle—settle into a resemblance of what life had once been.
Oh, certainly there w
ere
still anger, sadness
,
and fatigue
;
certainly there was still hardship.
Yet the knowledge that men were no longer fighting and dying by the thousands helped life to seem hopeful once more.

Money was a worry, yes
,
but the garden was thriving
,
and the Turners had food enough.
Certainly there was plenty of work to keep
Savannah
and Vivianna busy.
Caring for a house and five men was enough to keep five women busy
,
and they were only two.
Yet Vivianna was glad for the work—glad to know she was a help to
Savannah
.

Many were the times since Justin
’
s return that Vivianna had considered moving back into town—back into her parents
’
lonely, abandoned home.
This had first been a consideration when Caleb had returned
,
for the mere fact the townsfolk might think it inappropr
iate for an unmarried young woma
n to reside in the same house as an unmarried young man who was not kin.
However, the
war allotted broader boundaries
,
and little was said in town about Vivianna Bartholomew dwelling in the same house as Caleb Turner.
Yet now—now with two other unmarried men living within the same walls—Vivianna had begun to worry more seriously.
Many people in
Florence
were still angry with the Turner boys for fighting for the
Union
.
Though little was said
,
there was gossip
,
and all the Turners knew there were those who disliked them for it.
Vivianna had begun to wonder if the fact she was still living with
Savannah
and her sons might provoke even more anger or dislike.
She certainly did not want to be the cause of any further unkindness to the Turners.
Yet she knew
Savannah
needed her help—needed her company.
Furthermore, she owed Savannah Turner a great debt!
The woman had, without hesitation, taken Vivianna in when her parents had been killed.
She
’
d provided food, shelter
,
and clothing for her—treated her like a daughter.
How could she leave
Savannah
when she owed such a debt to her?
Thus, she
’
d lingered in the Turner home
,
even after Justin had returned
,
even for the fact that Johnny Tabor still resided with them.

Vivianna sighed and shook her head
,
attempting to dispel all thoughts of worry and concern.
The butterfly was beautiful
,
the flowers were lovely, and the sky was blue
.
Caleb had work, Justin was getting stronger with each passing day
, and
even Johnny Tabor was helping life to look more hopeful.
Oddly, Johnny had recovered far more quickly than Justin, who had yet to regain his full strength.
Johnny’s
health had returned at an astonishing rate, and now he was attempting to repay the Turners for their kindnesses to him.
Johnny Tabor worked from the moment the sun broke the horizon in the morning until
Savannah
called him in for supper in the evening.
Already he
’
d gathered and split enough wood to keep the oven cooking for months
.
He
’
d repaired the barn, managed the weeds in the garden, and shod half the horses in town.
He
’
d whitewashed the fences, constructed a new chicken coop and pen, and hauled water whenever
Savannah
or anyone else asked him to.

Secretly, Vivianna was grateful Johnny had stayed on.
His help allowed Justin to heal—to rest with a clear mind.
With Johnny there to help, Justin need not worry about the physical tasks to
o
burdensome or difficult for
Savannah
and Vivianna to do while Caleb was in town working.
Rather, Justin knew all would be taken care of
;
thus he could concentrate on regaining his strength.
Vivianna often thought she should offer her t
hanks to Johnny
,
for without him
she was not at all certain Justin would be recovering so well.
Still, something about the man—something about Justin
’
s friend caused her to pause in thanking him
,
even to pause in lingering in his compan
y.
Often she wondered if it were
merely the fact that, as Johnny Tabor
’
s strength had returned, his appearance and demeanor had become even more intimidating.
Like Justin
’
s, Johnny
’
s hair had grown in—brown and straight in contrast to Justin
’
s dark, wavy locks.
As Justin
’
s blue eyes were bright and welcoming
,
Johnny
’
s eyes were dark and brooding.
Though Justin still lingered in gaining his full strength, the weakness and weariness had vanished from Johnny.
Justin still struggled with lifting heavy things
,
his endurance still not what it would soon be.
However, Johnny
’
s musculature was now well defined and rather bulking
,
all for the sake of good food and hard labor.
Thus
,
though he deserved her thanks
,
Vivianna could not find the words—or the courage—to thank Johnny for his service to the Turner family and herself.
Rather
,
she simply tried to ignore his daunting presence.

Vivianna sighed as she thought of Justin—thought of his ever
-
strengthening health
,
thought of his dazzling smile and inviting gaze.
As yet, he had not spoken of marriage to her
,
though he often implied it through teasing or in speaking of the future—often spoke of being old together and sitting on the porch in the evenings, watching the sunset.
Most every day
after Justin had his breakfast
,
Vivianna would walk with him either to the big pond, where they would sit on a fallen tree and converse
,
or to the arbor and honeysuckle vine.
There they would linger on the swing, lazily swaying back and forth
,
talking of the past and discussing all that once was.
At first, Vivianna had known a fair amount of frustration in this light courting manner.
The things she and Justin had written in their letters to one another during the war had seemed the stuff of deep emotion—of promise and love.
Yet she
’
d begun to understand that Justin had endured the horrors of
Andersonville
since those letters—that it had weakened,
frightened,
and damaged him.
Not only did Justin
’
s body need rest and recovery
,
but likewise his mind and heart required the same.
Vivianna had begun to understand this—begun to know that Justin still loved her
. H
e simply did not feel worthy of owning her love in return.
Still, she was not too often discouraged
,
for she knew he would heal—mind, heart
,
and body.
She knew he had loved her before
Andersonville
,
for she yet held his letters as cherished treasure.
Furthermore, she knew he loved her still
,
that he would heal and eventually fulfill every promise he
’
d made to her—every promise of their knowing
a
wonderful life together.
Therefore, she was reconciled to be patient
,
glad in his company
,
delighted by each soft kiss he begged of her whenever they were alone.
He would soon ask her to marry him,
and
then all her waiting would be rewarded
,
and she would know the war was truly behind them.

The yellow butterfly left its perch on the dark violet clematis
,
flitting off in the direction of the meadow.
Vivianna frowned as her momentary respite was tainted by thoughts of the cemetery—of the woods beyond—of a Confederate soldier named Zachary Powell.
Vivianna closed her eyes
and
forced herself to do as Caleb had suggested—tried not to think of the day Nate and Willy had first found Zachary Powell
’
s body
,
the day they had later returned to find his body missing.
There was nothing that could be done.
Caleb, Justin
,
and Johnny had eventually agreed that, without a body to prove the man was dead, they could not tell Sheriff Pidwell (or anyone else) about the man
’
s death.
After all, what were they to say?
Caleb had explained they simply could not wander into town and announce they
’
d found a dead Confederate soldier but that his body had disappeared.
The situation would have been even worse than if they
’
d been able to lead the sheriff to Zachary Powell
’
s body.
Thus, it had been agreed upon that they would say nothing—that there was nothing to say.
Yet they were all haunted—haunted by the knowledge that a man was dead
,
that his family would never know what had become of him.
Johnny Tabor had seemed especially haunted.
It was often Vivianna would awaken late in the dark hours of night to fetch a glass of water only to find Johnny sitting on the front porch whittling away on a piece of wood with the knife he kept in his boot.
She suspected Johnny
’
s guilt over the missing body of Zachary Powell was far greater than was anyone else
’
s—even Justin
’
s.
For Johnny had hated Zachary Powell
,
and guilt was the constant companion of hate.

Vivianna shook her head
and
again determined not to think of the incident—not the finding of the body and its disappearance
and not the argument she
’
d overheard between Justin and Johnny a few days later.
Yet her thoughts had wandered there, and now she could not help but let them linger a moment.

It had been only three days following Nate and Willy
’
s
finding the dead man in the woods that Vivianna had been out searching for wild strawberries—and overhea
r
d a conversation.
She
’
d knelt to pick a ripened bunch, and as she did, she
’
d hea
r
d voices.
She
’
d remained quietly in the hidden shade of a tree as Justin and Johnny
paused during their walk through
the meadow—to the cemetery.
They
’
d been arguing
,
and naturally, this intrigued Vivianna.
Yet what she overheard had begun to haunt her nearly as much, or possibly more, than the knowledge of Zachary Powell
’
s dead and missing body did.