The Last, Long Night (#5 in the Bregdan Chronicles Historical Fiction Romance Series) (12 page)

Janie stared at her then turned to watch as the rainbow disappeared.  She took a deep breath and shifted so she could watch the golden orb of the sun slip beneath fluffy, purple clouds perched on the horizon.  Finally she nodded.  “You’re right,” Janie said softly.  “It will end.  Nothing lasts forever – neither the good nor the bad.”

Carrie smiled.  “That’s what Old Sarah used to tell me.  That no matter how bad something was it wouldn’t last forever.  And that no matter how good something was, it wouldn’t last forever.  She told me I had to endure the bad times but suck all the goodness and joy I could from the good times.”

“Is it okay that I can hardly wait for the good times to start again?” Janie asked; her voice breaking.

“I think we would both be absolute idiots if we didn’t feel that way,” Carrie said with a small laugh.  “I know one thing for sure,” she said as she wrapped Janie in a hug.  “You’re one of the best things in my life, and I intend to make the most of every single moment we have together!”

Janie grabbed her hand, laughed softly, and then turned to swing back down the hill.  “Let’s go have some dinner!”

Neither said a word when the sound of battle once more lifted over the trees.

Carrie wasn’t surprised this time when she saw Jeremy sitting in the parlor.  “Welcome again, Jeremy,” she said sincerely, almost surprised to find she meant it.  Regardless of what she would ultimately decide about her promise, she was glad to get to know her uncle,
and Rose’s twin
, better.  She caught herself before she shook her head at the irony of the situation. 

“Hello Carrie,” Jeremy responded as he claimed her hand, and then took Janie’s hand as well.  “How are you, Janie?”

“It’s been a long day,” she said simply.  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just run up to get ready for dinner.”

Carrie chose to stay, suddenly wanting a few minutes alone with Jeremy.  She smiled as she settled herself onto one of the chairs.  “My father?”

“He should be here any moment,” Jeremy answered.  “He was going through a document that arrived just before we were to leave.  He told me to come ahead and let you know he might be a little late.”

Carrie nodded.  She had scarcely seen her father in the last week, and she knew little of what was going on outside the hospital.  She had wanted it that way because she was convinced she couldn’t handle anything more than what she faced each day.  She waited for her father each night to be assured Robert’s name wasn’t on the list of wounded or dead before she escaped to her room. She knew he understood.  Suddenly, she found herself wanting to know more.

“I’m afraid I’ve not wanted to hear any of the news,” she confessed.  “Would you be so kind as to fill me in on the events of the last week?”

Jeremy frowned.  “I’m afraid I have nothing but bad news.”

Carrie smiled slightly, holding on to her certainty that the war would end.  “I hardly expected there to be good news,” she said wryly.  “There has not been a single break in the stream of ambulance wagons.  That tells me there has not been a break in the fighting either.”  She remembered her father’s hope that Grant would fall back.  “I take it General Grant is not behaving the way we hoped he would.”

“That would be true,” Jeremy said heavily.  “After the two days of fighting in The Wilderness, he simply moved his men and headed down to Spotsylvania Court House.”

“How many?”  When Jeremy looked at her questioningly, she persisted, though she was quite certain the answer would make her sick.  “How many did we lose?”

Jeremy’s face turned white and hard.  “We lost close to eight thousand men.”  His voice held no triumph when he added, “The Union lost eighteen thousand.”

“Twenty-six thousand men?” Carrie whispered and then thought of Georgia upstairs. 
And women
she added to herself silently.

“That was just in The Wilderness,” Jeremy stated.  “We don’t have the final numbers in from Spotsylvania yet.  The Union will have higher numbers than us again, but
any
Rebel soldier wounded or killed is a waste.”

Carrie looked at him closely.  “You hate this war as much as I do.”

“If even the thought of it makes you sick, then, yes, I hate the war as much as you do.”

Carrie took comfort in knowing that someone who was undeniably connected with her felt the same way.  “Are they still fighting at Spotsylvania?”

“The last I knew,” he said and then changed the subject.  “Your father is a remarkable man.”

Carrie smiled.  “I’ve known that my entire life,” she agreed.  “Why do
you
feel that way?”

Jeremy seemed to search for the right words.  “Your father is a voice of reason.  Oh, I know he believes in the war, and that he wants us to win, but I find I can talk with him about anything and he will listen.  I don’t see the same bitterness in him that I see in almost everyone else.”

Carrie smiled again, thinking back to the bitter shell her father had been just months ago until he was able to embrace a truth that released him from the bitterness.  “My father is one of the few that realize even if the South loses the war there is still much to live for.  He finds comfort in that.”  She thought further about what Jeremy had said.  “You don’t want the South to win?”

Jeremy stared at her a moment and then shrugged.  “I don’t want things to go back to the way they were.”

“Meaning slavery,” Carrie interjected.

“Yes.  No one is meant to live in slavery, but….”

Carrie waited quietly for him to go on.

“I thought it would be simple if the North won the war,” Jeremy finally said.

“And you don’t think that anymore?” Carrie asked sharply, thinking of her own desire to head north and begin medical school when the war ended.

“I don’t know what to think,” Jeremy stated quietly, “but I do know nothing will be simple.  This war became something no one envisioned, so I’m quite sure no one really knows what will happen when it ends.” 

A stomping on the stairs ended their conversation.  Moments later, Thomas pushed open the door, walked in, and slumped down into his chair.

May appeared at the door. “You be ready for dinner, Master Cromwell?”

Thomas shook his head heavily.  “Give me about twenty minutes, please, May.”  His voice was hoarse and strained.

“Yes’suh!”  The door swung shut soundlessly as May disappeared back into the kitchen.

Carrie and Jeremy both waited for her father to speak and only nodded at Janie when she slipped in to join them.  The rest of the boarders had eaten hours before.  No one else would be joining them.

Carrie could tell by the broken look in his eyes that the news wasn’t good - not that there was a chance of good news at this point.  She reached over and took her father’s hand.  “Jeremy said you received a new document before you left the Capitol,” she said gently, praying it wasn’t a new list of dead that had Robert’s name on it.  She took deep breaths while trying to hold the image of the rainbow in her heart.

“Yes,” Thomas said hoarsely.  “General J.E.B. Stuart just died.”

His three listeners groaned in unison.  Carrie’s eyes filled with tears as she thought of the dashing young cavalry commander who had won the hearts of the entire Confederacy with his flamboyant attitude accented by the long black swooping plume he always wore on his hat.

Thomas shook his head and focused his eyes on Carrie and Janie.  “This is the first chance we’ve really had to talk since the fighting started up again.”

“I’d like you to give us a basic idea of what has happened,” Carrie said quietly. 

“I’m afraid it’s all bad news,” Thomas admitted.  “The fighting in The Wilderness was basically a tactical loss for Grant, but we lost almost eight thousand men making it happen.”  He paused for a long moment and stared out the window.  “Instead of leaving, Grant took his troops and headed to Spotsylvania Courthouse.  Lee figured that’s what he was doing, and beat him there, getting his army into the trenches before Grant arrived.”

Carrie felt a moment of gladness that Robert had the safety of the trenches to protect him, for she was quite certain he was right in the midst of the fighting.

“They’ve been fighting ever since.  The Union is taking much heavier losses than we are, but our losses are more devastating,” he finished.

Jeremy scowled.  “Grant knows he has a bigger army.  He can afford to let more of them die.”

Thomas stared at him wearily.  “That’s true.  We’re simply running out of men.”

“What happened to General Stuart?” Janie asked, her face white and set.   

“He was sent out with his troops to stop a cavalry raid of close to ten thousand men led by Sheridan.  They met at Yellow Tavern….”  His voice trailed away, and then he straightened his slumped shoulders. “Stuart has pulled off miraculous feats before, but I don’t think he had a chance with this one.  He was outnumbered two to one, and the Union army has those new rapid-fire repeating carbines I’ve heard about.  Most of our boys were killed.”  He stared out the window at the magnolia tree in full bloom.  “Stuart was wounded.  They brought him here, but they couldn’t save him.  He’s gone.”

He’s gone….

The words echoed through the parlor.  Carrie knew they reflected the loss of more than a popular Confederate officer. 

They reflected the loss of more hope, the ebbing away of the belief that the South might somehow win this war after all.  The three years they had already lived through under siege had all been horrible, but just eight days into the spring of 1864 made it clear they had not seen true horror before.

Carrie could only imagine how many more men had died in the five days of fighting at Spotsylvania.  The steady stream of ambulance wagons said the number would be higher than even she dreaded.  She fought to contain the groan that slipped out anyway. 

Thomas gazed at her with sympathy, but he wasn’t done yet.  “There is a force of close to thirty thousand men who are coming up the James River under General Butler.”

“I leave to join them tomorrow,” Jeremy said quietly.

Carrie and Janie gasped as Thomas shot a look at him.  “You’re not a soldier,” he protested.

“Neither is much of the army now being commanded by our General Beauregard,” Jeremy retorted.   “He’s had to pull in every teenage boy and old man who can hold a rifle.  I seriously doubt Grant thinks Butler can take the city, but it will certainly take some of the pressure off him at Spotsylvania.”

Carrie watched Jeremy closely.  He didn’t say it, but the gray pallor of his skin indicated he was terrified.  Her heart grew tender.  He had wanted to spend the evening with them before he left.  “Does your father know?” she asked gently.

Jeremy shook his head.  “I’ll tell him tonight.”  He looked at Carrie.  “I’m worried about him.”

“Is he sick?” Carrie demanded.  “I haven’t been able to go to the black hospital since the fighting started.”

“He’s not sick, exactly….”  Jeremy paused.  “It’s just something I can’t put my finger on.  He doesn’t have the energy he used to have.  The light seems to have gone out in his eyes.”

“You’re afraid he’s going to get sick,” Janie stated.

“Yes.  If any disease starts to spread, I don’t think he’ll be able to fight it off.  He spends so much time in the hospital.”

“We’ll send some food home with you tonight,” Thomas said.  “Make sure he eats it.  I know his congregation needs food, but they need your father more.”

“I’ll try,” Jeremy murmured gratefully.

              Silence reigned around the table as they ate the food May placed before them.  Thomas had bought May shortly after he bought the house in Richmond.  Carrie hated she was still a slave, but she also knew it was just a matter of time before the South lost and all the slaves would be free. 

As she looked at Jeremy heaping beans on his plate, she could freely admit to herself that she hoped the South would lose quickly so no one else had to die.  Robert.  Jeremy.  Her father.  She knew if the danger was close enough her father would be called into action as he had just weeks before.  She was sick of losing people she loved. 

She also allowed herself a small quiver of excitement of what it would mean when the war was over.  Rose.  Moses.  Aunt Abby.  Matthew.  People who she loved dearly, who had been ripped away from her would once again be a part of her world – her country. 
If they lived…