Spirit of the Revolution (11 page)

“Welcome home, Jolena,” William said. He gave her a smile and a brief rub on her back.

“Thanks William.” Jo shot a glance at Jedediah. Then as she knelt beside Dak, to give her dog the attention he demanded, she said, “Did Dakota give you any trouble?”

“None whatsoever,” he replied. “I think it’s safe to say, he preferred staying with us over your friend.”

“I’ve no doubt about that. He sure had fun out there today.” She stood and gazed at Mathias who had yet to say anything. Nonetheless, the warm look in his eyes told her that had he missed her just as much as she missed him. “I did see both Revolutionary
and
Civil War soldiers out there on the field, right?”

Mathias returned a nod and said, “As well as a few others. They’re neighboring souls who come and join us from time to time as we go through our paces.”

“You call that—that spectacle, going through your
paces
?” she gasped as she took in each of their faces. Up until this moment, she believed the phrase meant something like practicing their about faces and forward marches.

“Well, we try to keep our skills honed.” He shrugged and glanced briefly at each of his men. “The activity gives us something to do, and you never know when such skills might come in handy.”

Jo mulled the comment over and then shook her head. “Just how do you create the sounds of gunfire, cannon explosions, and all the smells?” she asked. The question called to mind Gloria’s reference to the “unholy sights and sounds” originating from her
haunted
property. “I mean, the battle looked, sounded, and smelled so real—”

Sam pointed heavenward. “A thunder and lightning storm of this magnitude supplies the necessary energy we need to accomplish something as large as a battle exercise. Anything less is naught but a poor substitute. Enough about us. The subject is boring at best. We’d much rather hear about your tour. Most importantly, we’d like to hear the reason it took you so long to return home. I must confess the delay put us all in such a foul mood. We could barely stand the sight of each other, or ourselves, for that matter—especially Mathias. That man can be such a grouch at times and not at all pleasant to be around.”

Chapter 8

Last night, she looked forward to sleeping in her own bed. So why then did sleep escape her? Jo once again turned onto her back, popped her eyes open, and stared at the ceiling. The position remained just as uncomfortable as it did five minutes earlier, and ten minutes before that. She sat up, plumped her pillow, and scrunched down into her covers. Not more than twenty seconds passed before she turned onto her right side, and then switched to her left.

Finally, she rubbed her eyes, sighed in defeat, and tossed her coverlet off to the side. After she slid off the bed, she donned her white cotton robe, and stepped out onto the balcony. Perhaps a bit of fresh air might assist her efforts to fall asleep. Dakota followed close at her heels.

She leaned against the balustrade and gazed out at the sky. Serenity prevailed for as far as the eye could see. The earlier storm had dissipated, and the gentle breeze made for a pleasant night. Stars, made even more brilliant by the recent rain, lit up the sky in spectacular display. She turned around, chose the rocking chair promising the best view, and made herself comfortable. After she closed her eyes, she rocked back and inhaled a deep, cleansing breath.

“I assumed you’d be sound asleep by now,” Mathias said. “And having naught but sweet dreams to pass away the night.”

“Mathias—” Her eyes flew open the instant he made the comment. She gave him a smile, and as he approached, her heart sang out a welcome. “I’m happy you decided to join me, but—didn’t you guys just put on a John Wayne movie?”

“Alex did. I couldn’t keep my mind on it though,” he said as he settled into the chair next to her, placed one foot against the bottom rail and the other extended outward. “I guess I’m feeling a bit restless.”

“Me too. I didn’t think it would take me long to fall asleep. But for whatever reason, I’m wide-awake.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry, for it gives us some time to catch up a bit. You were sorely missed, Jolena Michaelsson,” Mathias said. “Sam didn’t exaggerate that.”

“And I missed you—all of you, you can’t believe how much.” She paused for a moment as she considered the truth of the statement. Never before had she allowed her concentration to stray while giving a performance. But during the tour, it happened time and again. Most especially when she played the songs Mathias favored. Her Ranger would then step into her mind without need for invitation and remain at her side for the duration of the concert.

The idea extended itself then and she gave voice to it. “You know, next time we go on tour, I might have to take all of you with me. I’ll just pack you inside my suitcase and we can take off.”

“That might be an interesting alternative.” Mathias nodded as he clasped his hands loosely together.

“I have to warn you, though. The beds in the hotel rooms are too soft, too hard, or too lumpy. And most of the time, you’ll find the food is too greasy, too spicy, or to bland,” she said.

“Ah, don’t worry,” he countered. “We can make do with the lumpy beds and gag down the food if it becomes necessary.”

“Could you?” All of a sudden, the idea didn’t sound so absurd. “What I mean is—can you leave the property and go where ever you want to go, no matter the distance?”

Mathias rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded. “I believe so. We’ve yet to test the theory to the fullest extent possible. We’ve certainly never traveled the entire breadth of the United States. But in the years following our deaths, the lads visited the homes of their relatives from time to time. Well, they did until they no longer stood on their foundations. Then, a few times during the War Between the States, we traveled quite extensively to assist the Union in their effort to keep this country united. Such is the cause for which we fought and died. Therefore we vowed to do all in our power to keep it the way our founding fathers intended.”

Jo’s mouth dropped in response to the revelation. “You helped the Union Army? How? Did you gather intelligence from the South and pass it on to the North, or just what?”

“We gathered information on several occasions,” Mathias replied. “But we discovered that it’s not always easy to get the living to hear us when we speak to them in our spiritual form. And we can’t just pop in on the officers and report our findings.”

“Why not?”

“First of all, most would run screaming out of their tents at the mere appearance of a ghost.”

“But, couldn’t you have just walked in, appearing to them as I see you now—as more—mortal looking?”

“No, that wouldn’t have worked either. We’d have to adhere to all military protocols. They would ask for our sources of information, the names of our commanding officers and such. And then one always has to worry about physical contact. The pat on the back, a hand extended in friendship or respect. So, no, we couldn’t appear solid.”

“That makes sense I suppose. Well then—” Jo cleared her throat. “What did you do?”

“During the course of the war, we discovered at various times, plans the Confederate army made to advance on the Union troops. Some of those times, the Union army didn’t have the strength of numbers needed to meet them in battle. So, we gathered some of our otherworldly friends, and sort of
convinced
the rebels to take an alternate route to their destination. Thus, we gave the Union army time to strengthen,” he said.

“And just
how
did you convince them?” she asked, wanting far more than just that.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope, sorry,” she said, giving an apologetic shrug.

“We simply obstructed their path.” He chuckled when she sighed in exasperation and then added, “By using some of the skills you witnessed today.”

Jo had to laugh as she envisioned some very determined Revolutionary War ghosts impeding the way of the Confederates. “Then what you’re telling me is that you purposefully scared the dickens out of the Southern army. Probably even made some of them scream for their mamas and run for home—”

The corners of Mathias’s lips twitched over her comments. “Some of them did, I suppose. Of course, Jed would have to take the credit for most of that, once he started with the war cries.”

“That reminds me, I’ve yet to hear Jed’s story concerning the Indians.” Her mind skipped to today’s “training exercises” and the youngest Ranger’s look of deadly concentration as he swung those tomahawks at his opponent. “Care to enlighten me?” she asked.

“I suppose I could start out by telling you that as a Methodist minister, Jedediah’s father spent a great deal of time preaching among the Indian people of New Jersey. He, along with his family, lived with them for a couple of years before coming to Pennsylvania,” Mathias said. “Jed developed a friendship with several of the lads in the Lenni-Lenape tribe. They made him an honorary brave and taught him all manner of skills, like hunting, fishing, tracking, and of course, the war cries.”

“Yet, for all that I think it such a shame that he lost his life, at such a young age,” Jo said. “He should’ve had the opportunity to get married and raise some children. In fact, you all should have.”

The notion gave her pause. None of the boys ever mentioned girlfriends, wives, or children. Yet, they might’ve left a family of their own. They certainly were of an age for such an occurrence. Did they find the subject painful to discuss? Yet, she found the idea of Mathias leaving a wife and children behind difficult to consider. Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why something that happened centuries ago should bother her now. Jo held his gaze before she added, “Or did you?”

“Did any of us ever get married? No, we didn’t. And now that you mention it, I don’t recall Jed ever talking about anyone in particular prior to his death. That’s not to say he didn’t have his eye on a couple of young women while he lived. He just didn’t take the time to pursue them, given the circumstances of our time. Alexander probably got closer to getting married than anyone else, but unfortunately, his woman died of smallpox before the scheduled ‘I do’s’ could take place.”

“Oh, how sad! Tell me about her,” Jo said. As she settled a little deeper into her chair and waited for Mathias to continue his narrative. She truly loved hearing him speak. He possessed a wonderful voice, and his unique accent must have been common during his lifetime, at least within his community. After all, she detected the same inflection in Sam’s voice.

“Charity Jenkins, daughter of John and Abigail Jenkins, was the youngest member in her family. I remember her being a tiny little thing, big blue eyes and blonde hair, always a bit frail, though. She possessed a sweet, gentle disposition. Everyone loved her. Unfortunately, she and her mother contracted the illness, after nursing some of their afflicted neighbors. They both died within a week or so of each other,” Mathias said. “Their deaths devastated everyone, of course. But most especially Alex, as I’m sure you can imagine. I don’t think he ever fully recovered from her death.”

“And Sam?” she asked, wanting to hurry past the sorrow that filled his eyes. Her question returned his smile.

“I’m not so sure if Sam had lived to the ripe old age of one hundred, he would ever have found one woman in particular to settle down with. Sam loved all the ladies, often and well, but he never lost his heart to any of them.”

Soft laughter accompanied her nod. “I can accept the truth of that statement. Samuel Fraser is an outrageous flirt, no doubt about it. So, what about William, did he have anyone special?”

“I’m certain William would’ve found someone eventually. But during his life, something always precluded him from courting anyone for any length of time. One woman after the other would tire of waiting for him and find someone else. Then the war started,” he said as his voice trailed off.

“And—what about you?” Once again, Jo held her breath while she awaited his reply.

Mathias gave her his full attention then. His gaze bore into hers. He sought something, but she couldn’t guess. Nonetheless, the look in his eyes at this moment fanned the embers that had settled into her belly. Finally, he spoke.

“I never found anyone special—while in my mortal state,” he said.

His answer pleased her. “Oh,” however, was all she could think to say in return. Should she add, “Gee, that’s too bad” when she truly didn’t feel that way? She opted to say nothing more.

“And you?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard. How could she explain what she herself could not? She clasped her hands together, laid them on her lap, and toyed with her fingers. The intensity of Mathias’s gaze compelled her to form an answer. “I guess I’m still waiting around to find the unique kind of love my parents shared. I’ve yet to find it.”

He considered that for a moment before he said, “If it isn’t too painful, I’d really like to hear about your parents. We’ve never talked about them.”

Jo put a hand to her mouth as countless memories flooded her mind. “Oh, I wished you could’ve known them, Mathias,” she whispered past the lump forming in her throat. “And really, it’s such a shame they didn’t get the chance to meet you and the boys. I think they would’ve loved you all. My parents—Edward and Florence Michaelsson—are two of the finest people who ever walked this earth. They had such a deep abiding love for each other and for each of us kids. I just wished they could’ve stayed with us a little bit longer than they did.

“But—several years ago, a terrible car accident took both their lives. They died almost instantly they say.” Jo managed a short, quiet laugh before she added, “And not surprisingly, they were found holding hands. So, believe me when I tell you that for them, they could’ve asked for nothing finer than to exit this world together.”

Mathias understood her sadness. Despite the fact he departed mortal life first, he took great comfort in knowing he could still remain with his family and watch over their daily interactions. During his sojourn, he witnessed their joys, and provided them a semblance of comfort during their moments of sorrow. Even though they remained ignorant of his presence, it hurt when each of them, one by one, left mortality and him behind. And one day, for one reason or another, Jolena would leave him as well. Unfathomable pain accompanied the notion.