Buckeye Dreams (15 page)

“No, he’s sleeping peacefully,” she replied as she looked at Katherine worriedly. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”

“No, I’m fine.” She turned to the rest of them. “Good night.”

Daniel rose and followed her to the stairs. “Katherine.”

She stopped and turned her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I really am tired.”

“I won’t keep you then, but I want a chance to talk to you privately. Soon.”

She nodded and quickly continued up the stairs. As he watched her go, he wondered if he had been wrong to think she cared for him.

Katherine lay in bed a long time before she fell asleep. A certain degree of guilt had been lifted from her shoulders since Daniel had told her about how Nate had died. At least she need not feel so awful at the very sight of Adele Stephens. But leaving was becoming more and more tempting in spite of what the Lord was telling her. How could anyone around here heal if she was here?

And besides, it was very clear to her now that Daniel had feelings for the young widow. She should have seen it before.

Her hand flew to her jaw and tears pricked at her eyes.
Father, I told You this would happen. I can’t stay. I have to find a way back to … South Carolina
. She couldn’t bring herself to say “home.” South Carolina would never truly be her home again. No matter where she was, her heart would always be in Ohio. She loved the crispness of the air and soft chirping of the crickets in the evening, the rush of Mill Creek and the gentle gaze of Daniel’s soft green eyes.

Tears fell free and fast down her face, making her pillow damp. She’d dream about him again tonight. She’d dreamed about him almost every night since that day he’d found her crying by the creek. It had confused her at first, but it didn’t take long for her to figure out it was because she loved him.

She flung her arm over her face, begging God to let her leave. Her heart went back and forth with Him for quite some time. By the time she fell asleep, she had promised Him she would do nothing. For now.

E
arly Saturday morning, Daniel stood in the parlor waiting for Katherine to come down. He was in full dress uniform with a black band on his left arm and a fringed black sash attached to his sword hilt. According to the newspapers, all officers not on duty had been invited to participate in the proceedings, but Daniel had not been interested. He would have had to report to Tod Barracks down in Columbus at six o’clock this morning, which would have been impractical since Katherine was coming with him.

Soft movement caused him to turn and see Katherine standing in the doorway of the parlor. Normally he couldn’t bear to see a woman in mourning. He hated seeing his aunt perpetually dressed in black, and he was glad Katherine, as she was not related to his family, did not have to wear the somber color in remembrance of his mother. But the darkness of Adele’s dress set off Katherine’s eyes and brought out the red highlights in her auburn hair.

Neither one of them said anything for a minute or two.

Finally, Daniel spoke. “I must look ridiculous in this,” he half joked as he rested his hand on his sword.

“Oh no,” she said quickly. “You look quite … military.” She flushed and looked down.

Daniel had the idea she was going to say a very different word, and he wished once more that it would just be the two of them driving to Delaware. He dearly wanted to be certain of what she was feeling.

Daniel had decided to drive into Delaware to catch the train rather than getting on in Ostrander where someone might recognize Katherine. Professor Harris had very graciously offered to look after Scioto and the carriage while they were in Columbus. Jeremiah, another one of Simon Peter’s sons, was in charge of the professor’s stables and had come to ride with them into Delaware.

Mary came into the room just then and fussed a little with Katherine’s frock. “For having so little time, Adele did a good job,” she commented as she stood back to look at her.

“Yes,” she replied, looking down at the hem. “I’m glad nothing had to be done to the bodice.”

Daniel saw Jeremiah waiting for them in the drive. “We’d better go.”

Mary handed Katherine the spoon bonnet with its heavy black veil.

Taking it, Katherine embraced her friend and looked at her worriedly. “Will you be all right without me?”

“I’ll be just fine,” the older woman reassured her. “Simon Peter and the boys will be back as soon as they’ve seen the funeral train go by.” Those who couldn’t make it to any of the cities where the president would lie in state were congregating by railroad crossings where his train would pass to pay their respects. Mary turned and hugged her nephew. “Take good care of her.”

Daniel smiled. “You know I will.”

The sun shone brightly down on the city of Columbus as long lines of people filled the sidewalk along High Street to view the body of President Abraham Lincoln, which now lay in the rotunda of the Ohio statehouse.

Daniel and Katherine were among them, quietly inching their way forward toward Capitol Square. Their train had arrived in Columbus at nine thirty, over two hours after the president’s body had arrived in the capital city.

A procession had already taken him through a preplanned route around the statehouse before delivering him to lie in state inside. The doors would close, they had heard, at six o’clock that evening in order for the body to move on to Indianapolis.

The crowds were so immense Daniel had worried they might not get a chance to see him. But his army uniform caught a good deal of attention, and several people asked why he had not taken part in the procession. Each time he was asked, Daniel had nodded toward Katherine, who was holding his arm, and explained he was escorting a young lady whose only brother had died in the war. As a result, people insisted they go ahead of them. Daniel had protested at first, but most people were so vehement in their insistence his objections fell on deaf ears. It had happened so frequently they were now approaching the statehouse far sooner than they would have been. Daniel had given up trying to stop their heartfelt gestures.

Katherine, on the other hand, despaired, hating to fool so many good people. The last time it had happened, she had given Daniel a look of dismay, hoping he would look at her long enough to make out her face through the veil.

He had pulled her close. “It’s true enough, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t say anything. I won’t have something happening to you.” The look on his face made her dizzy, and she grasped his arm tightly as they walked on.

She looked around and tried to turn her attention to something else. The statehouse was now well within view, and Katherine studied it as they slowly moved along.

South Carolina had begun work on its statehouse when she was eleven, and she had seen the incomplete building in Columbia several times. It had promised to be a grand structure. But by the beginning of the war, it had been only partially complete, and over the course of the conflict construction had ground almost to a halt. Whether it had survived the burning of Columbia she could not say.

Ohio’s statehouse was similar in style, but it had a quiet elegance, which she found she preferred. Rather than a large imposing dome topped with a spire, a large drumlike cupola with windows all around sat atop the rectangular structure. The building sat on a square surrounded by a wrought iron fence with a green lawn at each corner.

Daniel had told her there were four entryways, each facing a different direction on the compass. They were drawing near the west entrance now. Black cloth was wrapped around the massive Grecian pillars in front of the doors, and black bunting graced each of the eight windows on either side.

The fence was broken by a gateway over which a sign had been hung. It read: Ohio Mourns.

She glanced at Daniel. A weight had settled over him ever since the statehouse had come into view. As he read the sign, his face became graver.

As they moved beneath the gate, another sign had been hung directly above the pillars: W
ITH
M
ALICE
T
OWARD
N
ONE
;
WITH
C
HARITY
FOR
A
LL
. Katherine recalled Reverend Warren quoting the phrase from President Lincoln’s second inaugural address.

They climbed the broad limestone stairway and passed between the pillars to face one last sign, which hung directly over the heavy double doors: G
OD
M
OVES
IN
A
M
YSTERIOUS
W
AY
. Daniel stopped and stared at it.

A gap opened in front of them, and after another second or two a gentleman behind them gently coughed. Katherine grasped Daniel’s hand, and he looked at her as if he had just woken from a dream. Seeing the break in front of them, he quickly escorted her forward. A short hallway was before them with another small flight of steps leading up into the rotunda.

Katherine’s heart pounded as she realized she would soon be looking at the face of her fallen president. She glanced down at the basket on her arm, wondering if she would be brave enough to do all she had planned. Mary had packed them food for their lunch and dinner, and at the last moment Katherine had included a small spray of violets to put on or near the president’s coffin. She had been sure enough of the gesture earlier, but now she felt unaccountably shy.
Father, help me be bold
.

They climbed the last step into the rotunda. Katherine looked around her. The walls of the round room were draped in black, broken only by four arched entryways and a painting labeled “Perry’s Victory on Lake Erie.”

She looked up. Sunshine shone down through the pretty stained glass dome and bathed the solemn scene with light. The entire room smelled of various flowers, the scent of lilacs being the most prominent.

A black carpeted platform appeared at her feet. The line of four abreast split here as two people on each side walked up the platform to view the president. Daniel let go of her arm, and she allowed him to approach the coffin first as she reached into the basket for her spray of flowers.

They stood there for a moment, both of them taking in the still face of President Abraham Lincoln. Katherine stared at the still yet kindly face, and tears sprang to her eyes. She sent up a silent prayer for the great man’s widow and children.

Daniel rubbed his right hand, and his jaw was clenched tight. He moved on a second later, and Katherine followed, but not before swiftly laying the violets at the base of the coffin. Daniel had turned to help her step off the platform and saw her gesture. He threaded his fingers through her own as they left the rotunda and followed the rest of the crowd out through the north entrance.

The line of people broke up once they exited the statehouse, and Daniel walked Katherine off to the side. The sight of his fallen leader and Katherine’s sweet gesture had moved him greatly, and he hoped she wouldn’t let go of his hand until he had taken a moment to collect himself.

She didn’t; rather, she laid her other hand over their clasped ones. He wished he could see her face and her eyes, which he knew were probably soft with sympathy and her own unshed tears.