Words Heard in Silence (7 page)

"Yes, I still have my saddle. It is the one piece of tack that was not requisitioned for the war. But I fear I still cannot join you."

"Oh." Charlie’s voice was flat. He turned away from her to fiddle with his tie, hiding the pain that welled up in his chest at the rejection. He knew it was coming. He just did not expect it so soon. "Then I am sorry I imposed on you." The dreams and fantasies of wintering over here in this place, with this charming woman, evaporated in that instant.

Rebecca heard Charlie’s controlled withdrawal. She softened her voice, somewhat embarrassed by the situation. Rising slightly, holding the covers modestly over her body, she smiled. "Its not that I would not love to join you, Colonel Redmond. The problem is that I cannot get into my riding habit by myself, and my ladies maid ran off some time ago."

Charlie turned back to face Rebecca, a playful smile flirting around his lips. "Well, my dear lady. That can be fixed if you are willing to let an old war dog play ladies maid. I did, once upon a time, know how to do these things."

Rebecca, blushing a little, smiled again. The idea of a real ride after so many months with no mount thrilled her. "Then, sir, I will see you after lunch? And we will see if you can handle buttons as well as you handle reins."

R
ebecca made the bed; unconsciously, she lovingly smoothed the pillow that Charlie used, a slight smile playing on her lips the entire time. She was truly excited about the thought of riding later in the day. She felt almost giddy with the prospect. Not only would it be wonderful to have a horse under her again, she could not imagine more charming company than the Colonel.

She tidied the room then dressed for the day. Before leaving her room, she retrieved her riding habit, placing it on the bed to be changed into when Charlie returned to the house.

She enjoyed a nice breakfast of more fruit and cheese the Colonel had provided as she considered where to start her day. Looking out the back door, she saw Jocko bringing a group of men toward the house. Smoothing her apron, she stepped out to the back porch.

"Good morning, Sergeant." Rebecca greeted him as he climbed the steps. Rebecca knew that if possible she would have to form some sort of friendship with this man. He was important to Charlie and she knew his opinion of her would go a long way in her friendship with the Colonel.

"Mornin’ Ma’am. Colonel Redmond has sent us to continue with the repairs to the property. Where would you like the men to start?"

She smiled. She was not quite sure what her answer would be. She was sure Charlie had ideas about where the men should be working. "That is entirely up to you, Sergeant."

"Well, then Ma’am I will set some of the boys off to the barns to start there. Is there anything you need here at the house?"

Her mind thought of the roof. "Sir, there is a small problem with the roof, over the kitchen."

"Then a couple of our boys will take care of that for you."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

C
harlie walked back to his command tent in the dim light of false dawn. His step was light, as was his heart. He felt full of energy, even though he had slept very little that night.

There was still hope that this would be their winter quarters. There was still the chance that the little fantasy of peace and a home could be played for at least a few weeks.

Charlie entered camp quietly, slipping silently into the command tent. Jocko had been thoughtful; laid out on the bed was his normal day uniform, cleaned and ready to wear.

Charlie lit the oil lamp on the command desk and dove into the paperwork that always accompanied the movement of troops. Requisitions for supplies, for ammunition, for winter boots and blankets and medical supplies and new tents –– the lists were endless and the need for supplies never fully filled. The number of shysters who supplied the Army was appalling, and often the quality of the supplies they did receive was shoddy at best.

Charlie sighed deeply. Sometimes the best he could do for his boys, no matter how hard he begged, borrowed and called in favors from the past was not enough. The last batch of boots they had gotten in for the troopers were made of green leather –– as soon as they got wet, the boots shrank and became stiff as a plank. Well, if they could winter over here, the men could do some of their own repairs. It would not be enough, but it would help.

Completing the requisitions, Charlie turned to the daily report to Sheridan and his command officers. He was very careful in his wording, as he described to his commanding officer the site that he hoped to use as his winter camp.

Nov. 6, 1864

Outside of Culpeper, Virginia

Lieut. General Philip H. Sheridan

Department of the Shenandoah

Dear General Sheridan

As you recommended, I have been looking for a sound site
for the 13th Pennsylvania to winter over. I believe I have found such a site, and am in discussion with the owners to facilitate this process.

We are currently camped outside of Culpeper, surrounding the railhead here. The position is excellent for a number of reasons. By controlling the railhead, our troops can control any shipments going either north or east out of Charlottesville. This position is something of a crossroads and positions our forces to be able to respond quickly to any requirement here on the eastern face of the Blue Ridge Mountains. We are only one day’s hard ride from Fredericksburg, should the entrenchments there
require our support.

The land here is designed to support horses. There is extensive pasturage and small creeks with clear, fresh water lace the land. In addition, it is a protected area; with rolling hills that extend out from the Blue Ridge, providing sheltered dells and soft valleys.

The men I brought east with me are settling in well, and the 13th is reintegrating slowly after the devastation of the Wilderness campaign. I have been extending myself, as always, to ensure the men have what they need, or as much of what they need as I can get them, given the problems that the War Office seems to be having with suppliers.

If you could, please remind your supply officer to check into the last problem with shoes and boots we had. My men cannot have rawhide footwear for the winter.

The site I have selected to house my headquarters is the home of a young woman who was widowed by the war. The facility was a stud farm, with excellent barns and stables already present. Although there is nowhere near enough stabling for all of our mounts, it will provide us with the space to care for the injured animals properly.

In addition, there are extensive outbuildings that can be used to house our injured staff and as starting points for building out our half-timbered winter tents.

General, this part of Virginia has been less physically damaged than some. It offers the residents a hope for a reasonable life after this terrible conflict concludes. I would like to provide our hostess with the means to meet the conditions of the new order that will inevitable emerge after the armistice is reached. We have several mares, both horse and ass, that will never be sound enough to serve the army again, but would be ideal brood mares to put this horse farm back into operations after the war. The 13th Pennsylvania has a tradition of
taking care of the civilians who support them, as do I as their latest Regimental Commander. I seek your support for this plan.

Assuming that I can negotiate a reasonable agreement for the winter housing of our troops here, I would like to request that Dr. Walker be assigned to my staff again. Many men are still suffering from the results of their respective battle experiences. Some of the men in the original 13th Pennsylvania have lingering injuries from
The Wilderness campaign, and some of my original boys from the 49th Ohio still suffer the effects of malnutrition and parasites that resulted from that hell before Vicksburg. Her skill as a long-term care physician would be welcome.

I hope to complete the negotiations with the local
residents within the next few days and be able to focus my energy on settling the men for the winter and establishing appropriate patrols to support the efforts to keep supplies from heading east to relieve Petersburg and Richmond.

"Well," Charlie mumbled to himself. "That pretty much said it all. I know Phil Sheridan will assume that I have taken a shine to the lady. And he will be right. But that pretty much makes the argument for the location." He had not mentioned that he intended to leave one of his personal mounts as the stud for Rebecca’s little herd.

Reveille had sounded while Charlie was writing his dispatch to General Sheridan. He folded and sealed the document, dropping it into the dispatch bag that hung on the tent pole, and set off on his usual morning rounds, starting with breakfast with the troops at the general mess or at one of the many small cook fires around the camp.

Mid-morning found Charlie reviewing the picket lines. He found the head hostler and the farrier in deep conference.

"Good morning, Tarent, MacFarlane." Both men snapped crisp salutes to their commanding officer. "What have we here?"

"Major Montgomery’s primary mount, sir. Appears she has thrown a shoe and he rode 'til she was dead lame. Her hoof is split - bad. Nasty rips where the nails came out, and the frog is bruised as well. There is swelling up into the leg; I cannot tell how bad it is right now."

MacFarlane, the farrier spoke up. "Yes, sir. I agree. The only thing we can do for now is bind the hoof, tack a shoe on to help keep it together and keep the horse in a loose stall. The hoof is too damaged for me to be able to do anything with a special shoe."

"Is not this the third or fourth horse that Montgomery’s been through in the last couple of months?"

"Aye, sir. He is hard on the horses, he is, sir. He took another one from the reserves this morning." Tarent nodded vehemently in agreement. It was clear that neither Tarent nor MacFarlane approved of the man’s horsemanship. "Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Yes, Tarent." Charlie absentmindedly scratched up under the injured horse’s mane, one of those places that horses loved to be tended.

"Something happened to Major Montgomery, sir. Before Wilderness, he was one of our best officers, always caring for his horses. Now he rides like a crazy man –– and he is hurting horses right and left."

"Thank you, Tarent, for your honesty. I will keep an eye on him and do what I can. On a different issue, gentlemen, I would like to take our hostess out for a ride this afternoon. This looks to me to be a good place to settle in and winter over, and I would like to try and work something out with her. So your assistance will be appreciated. I believe that Shannon is sidesaddle trained, if she is sound. If not, something with enough spirit to give her a good ride, that can handle her side saddle, but not so hard mouthed that she will have to saw away for control?"

"Aye, Colonel, this would be a good winter over. A hell of lot better than last years, if I may say so." Last winter, MacFarlane had been with Charlie standing in the mud before Vicksburg.

"I saw her sidesaddle in the tack room, Colonel. Not much else there, but I have been looking over the stables. I think there is room for as many as 50 horses in the stables. And plenty more pasturage." Tarent had been with the 13th since its inception, but had taken to the new Regimental as soon as he saw Charlie’s way with horses. "I will check on Shannon and be sure, I will find her a proper mount. When do you want the horses delivered?"

Why do not we say about 2:00 at the main house, Tarent? That gives me time to get through the officer’s mess and take care of some other odds and ends."

"Aye, sir. I will be there with both of them at 2:00."

As he walked away from the picket lines back toward the officers mess tent, Charlie though seriously about what Tarent and MacFarlane had said. Montgomery was a bit of a problem. What Charlie had seen led him to believe Montgomery was one of those things he detested –– an arrogant man who liked to intimidate those with less power than himself. His treatment of Miss Rebecca and of his latest mount was, as far as Charlie knew, typical of the man. But Tarent said that he had been a good officer before The Wilderness. What happened to create this cruel, harsh man with no regard for others, man or animal? Well, maybe Elizabeth and Walter would be able to help when they arrived. Together, they were almost as good at healing broken souls as broken bodies.

Charlie entered the mess tent a few minutes after lunch service had begun. Lt. Colonel Richard Polk, Charlie’s adjutant, was away, on detail to Sheridan’s supply depot trying to sort the problems that they had experienced with some of the materials recently received –– including the damned boots. Most of what was at the table were his field officers, each leading a company of between 50 and 75 troopers. There were several staff officers as well. Montgomery was missing.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen." Charlie seated himself at the head table, and immediately a plate of simple beans, rice and pork was set before him. "Lets get right to it today, as I know we all have much to do. Company A, report, please."

Charlie worked his way around the tables, receiving updates on the status of each company in their various duties. There were the normal issues –– supplies, problems with the boots, a few lame horses, a few men under the weather and the long term problems of men with serious injuries slowly returning to health. Charlie had intentionally blended the men together, so that some of the forces from the western troops were included in each of the Companies, to bring them back to strength.

After all of the officers present had briefed the Colonel on the status of their companies, Charlie asked after the missing Major Montgomery.