Come Juneteenth (13 page)

"Heffernan is gone," Mama said grimly. "That subordinate of his, Captain Cochran, came 'round this morning, drank my coffee, and told me what you'd done."

"Gone? Where? Why? Not because of me."

"Cochran said he deserted."

"Well, good riddance to him."

"He took Sis Goose with him."

The words hit me like grapeshot, scattering my thoughts in a dozen directions.

She said them flat, with no feeling, and she stopped what she was doing with the black-eyed peas and faced me, wiping her hands with her apron.

"Mama," I started to say.

"She's gone, Luli. My little Goose Girl is gone."

She sat down at the table opposite me, her hands folded. "I can't even tell your father. I'm afraid he'd take a turn for the worse."

"We've got to get her back, Mama." I meant the words, though I hadn't the faintest notion how we'd do it.

She shook her head. "Don't try. Don't go after her alone. Wait until Gabe returns. He ought to be back any
day now. Anyway," and she lowered her eyes, "Cochran says you're under house arrest."

"He said what?"

"We're a conquered nation, Luli. We must submit or they'll think of some horrible way to get back at us. They'll burn the house, shoot the livestock, pay off freedmen to leave. And then we'll really have nothing."

I got up. "I'm going up to the house to see Cochran," I said.

"You're not allowed out of the house. I promised Cochran I'd keep you here."

"I have a right to speak my piece. Don't worry, Mama." I started away and she put out a hand to stop me.

"Where's the gun? The one you shot Heffernan with?"

"In my pocket."

She held out her hand and I reached into the apron pocket and gave it to her. It lay there on the wooden table, like a resting animal. Mama didn't like guns, I knew, but she was accustomed to them from the boys. She had approved of my learning to shoot when I was twelve because on our place being able to shoot a snake or a wild boar was a matter of life and death.

"Watch your mouth," she said as I went out the door. "Don't sass him."

I
T SEEMED
so strange to use the large brass knocker on the door in order to get into my own house. A soldier opened the door and let me in. I stood in the hall, wider than it
ever seemed now because most of Mama's furnishings and her good carpet were gone.

The soldier ushered me in to the front parlor where Cochran was riffling through papers on the desk they had put there. Pa's old desk. On it were empty drink glasses and food plates.

Cochran stood when I entered. "I thought I confined you to the house."

He didn't have the presence that Heffernan had had, the presence of command. And his voice was too high-pitched. Wrong for the job. I'd be willing to wager that in real life he'd been a schoolteacher or a store clerk, who'd never had reason to carry a gun.

"They say you are a fair man," I lied, "and will hear me out."

He nodded, flattered. Heffernan would never allow himself to be flattered. Cochran gestured that I should take a seat, then sat down himself.

"What you did was a criminal act," he said with some firmness, like a teacher scolding a student because his arithmetic answers were wrong. "I should bring charges against you. But now I have a fugitive commanding officer to deal with, and all I want for the moment is for you to be under house arrest. Later on in the day I'm going to post guards around the cabin."

I nodded. "He was making advances toward Sis Goose. I couldn't abide that. My brother left Sis Goose in my care until he gets back. And he'll be back soon. And
he pointed a gun at me. It was self-defense. My brother wouldn't have aimed for the arm. He'd have killed him."

"Then it would be murder," he said.

"A matter of honor in these parts."

He fooled with some paper on the desk, lowering his gaze. "You're very adult. Who taught you to shoot?"

"My brother Gabe. Where did Heffernan go with Sis Goose?"

"Don't you think I wish I knew? I'd send men after him. But I can't spare men when I don't know for certain where he's headed."

"Does he know anybody in Mexico?"

"No. New Orleans, yes. But still I can't be sure enough to justify sending my soldiers out."

I nodded. Turned out he
was
a fair man.

"I'm going to have to confiscate your gun," he said. "I thought we had them all. I suppose you had the gun hidden somewhere."

I nodded yes.

"What else have you got hidden?"

"Nothing." That was the truth. Everything was in Mexico.

"You Southerners are a mystery to me," he said. "Up home a young girl like you would still be learning to embroider. And these slaves, I mean freedmen, could walk off and more than half have stayed. Just about all your household help stayed. That cook in the kitchen is a specimen that deserves study." He shook his head wonderingly.

"Go back to the house now. And stay there. I've got to have complete command around this place or there will be chaos. Would you cooperate with me, please?"

I stood up. "What do you do when you're not in the army?"

"I teach school in Philadelphia."

I nodded. "You're going to have to negotiate with my brother Gabe when he comes home."

"I've dealt with worse."

I felt satisfied. There was a quiet, underlying determination in him after all. I was glad I'd come. I could explain him to Gabe.

At the door his voice stopped me. "How is your father?"

I turned. "Middling well."

"Give him my regards and tell him not to worry. I'll keep order around here."

"We don't want him knowing that Sis Goose is gone. He'd take a turn for the worse."

He nodded. "Right. Now I'm going to send a man to the house later for any other guns you have. Please don't make trouble."

I promised I wouldn't and I left. What I'd accomplished, I didn't know. But Pa always said that you should know and respect your enemy.

That afternoon a soldier came for the guns. I gave them to him, the Colt and the shotgun, and I didn't make any trouble.

The next day Gabe came home.

I
T WAS LATE
in the afternoon when he came. I was in the parlor with Mama, who was going over the books.

"Thanks to the freedmen who stayed and worked the fields we're going to be solvent this year. Just barely," Mama said.

"What about the money Pa has in England?" I asked.

"When Gabe comes home your father will give him authority to get it. There's no telling when Granville will come. I'd be willing to wager he's going to stay in Mexico a while."

"Mama, is Pa going to die?"

I was working on a sheet of paper, adding up the bales of cotton that would be shipped to Mexico this year. She looked up at me.

"He isn't that well, Luli. So yes, he may soon die."

"What will happen to us then?"

"The boys will be home. And I'll be glad to relinquish the running of this place to them."

"And me? What will happen to me?"

"I suppose the boys will want me to send you to school in Virginia now that the war is over. Don't you want that?"

I shook my head vigorously no. "After all we've been through here I couldn't abide a silly girls' school, Mama. Especially in Virginia. They'd make me ride sidesaddle there. And never shoot a gun."

"We've all spoiled you." She smiled. "We'll see."

"Now that the war's over there will be plenty of people coming south. Can't I just have a better tutor here?"

"Go and make us some tea. I'll discuss it with the boys."

I got up. "Granville will say no. Gabe will say yes. What then, Mama?"

"We'll see who your father names to run things." I thought of Granville washing my mouth out with soap.

"Lord, I hope it's Gabe." I went out back through the gallery and into the kitchen. There was usually a kettle of water over the fire in the hearth. I was just getting a tray and two cups and setting them down on the table when I saw a shadow across the floor and heard a voice.

"Better make that three cups. And I'll have coffee."

I looked up.

He stood there in the open doorway, backlit by the sun, his boots dusty and worn, his uniform the worse for wear. He held his hat under his arm, military fashion.

"Gabe!"

I hugged him and he enveloped me in his arms, hard. "You just get here?"

He gave a short laugh. "Yeah. If not for your letter, I'd have gone up to the big house and walked right in. They wreck the place much?"

"Some. Oh, Gabe, I'm so glad you're here. Come on in. I'll make some coffee."

"Where's Ma?"

"In the parlor, working on the books."

"Where's Sis Goose? I thought she'd be right here to greet me."

Oh dear God, I remembered then that he didn't know. I must have looked stricken because he went grim. "What's wrong, Luli?" he asked in a tone that brooked no lies.

"She's gone," I blurted out. "She was taken by Heffernan, the colonel."

"Gone? What in hell do you mean gone?"

So I told him. Everything. He listened gravely, then said in disbelief, "You shot Heffernan?"

"Yes. He was making advances toward Sis Goose."

"So he's wounded then. How far can he go? Come on, get that coffee. Here, I'll help. I want to see Ma and plan strategy."

H
E HID HIS
grief well. I suppose after fighting Indians, after long hours spent riding through the mesquite-covered ground and under a blazing sun, keeping watch for Kick
apoos who were always on the warpath, that he was good at hiding his feelings.

Or, at least, directing them into plans. He didn't waste time mourning.

Mama was absolutely daft, seeing him, of course. Tears came down her face and she kept saying, "My boy, my boy," and patting his face and his shoulder.

We had our repast. I'd brought some sliced ham and biscuits, fruit and cheese in the parlor for Gabe, who was starved as usual. Then, when we spoke of the war, the Yankees, and Pa, Mama looked at me.

"Luli, go upstairs and see your father. Tell him Gabe is home. I don't want him to be shocked. We'll be up directly."

They wanted to talk alone. I understood that. So I did as I was told.

I
SAT WITH
Gabe's captain's jacket on my lap and maneuvered the pair of scissors carefully.

Gabe had given me the job of cutting off the insignias of rank from the shoulders. None of his civilian clothes fit him anymore. All the shirts and jackets were too tight. He'd grown in the shoulders and chest. When he'd gone up to the house to pay his respects to Cochran he was ordered to cut off the captain's insignias if he wanted to continue wearing the uniform.

I remembered how proud Mama had been when she'd sewed them on. And as I cut carefully through her stitches,
I remembered the conversation between Gabe and Captain Cochran.

"I want you with me," Gabe had said to me. "I'll see if I can get rid of this house arrest thing. Get you put in my recognizance."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm responsible for you. That it's a matter of my honor that you don't run off. And that I bring you back when we go looking for Sis Goose."

I couldn't believe my good luck. "You're taking me with you?"

"I need you with me. For Sis's sake. But I have to get Cochran's permission. So come along and don't mouth him. Be quiet and respectful. If he's a decent sort, as you say, I can negotiate with him for some shotguns to take with us."

I
WAS SURPRISED
to see Gabe salute as we went into the parlor where Cochran had set up his office. Cochran stood and returned the salute and told him to sit.

These people,
I thought in wonder. Put a uniform on them and they all act the same, like they've read some special bible written just for them.

"I'm here to negotiate a few things," Gabe said.

Cochran nodded.

"First, with your permission, I'd like to ride out and find Colonel Heffernan. I can't have him running off with my intended."

"I suppose we could manage that," Cochran said.

"You can send as many or as few men as you want with me. I'll be subject to their command."

Cochran shook his head. "I have no men to spare. I'd have sent them already if I did." He took a sheet of paper and began scribbling, then signed it and shoved it across the desk at Gabe. "In case anybody stops you," he said.

Gabe folded the paper carefully and just as carefully said, "There's one more thing."

"There always is," Cochran said quietly.

"I'd like to take my sister with me. I'd be totally responsible for her. Put her in my recognizance. I promise, as a matter of honor, to bring her back."

This time it wasn't so easy. Cochran leaned back in his chair again. He ran his hand along his very narrow beard, and I could see he'd made serious decisions before. "Honor, hey?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is there a reason for this besides the fact that I'd probably put her in stocks before you returned?"

Gabe started to smile, then caught himself. "Yes. She and Sis Goose grew up together. They have some women's understanding there between them. You know what I'm talking about, Captain?"

Cochran rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, I know."

"So you'll let me take her then?"

Cochran reached down on the floor and fetched a bottle of rum and two glasses. The other request had been
easy. This was too much for him. He poured two glasses and shoved one across the desk and Gabe drank his down in one gulp.

Cochran leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, put his hands across his midriff and stayed that way for about two minutes. I glanced at Gabe, concerned. He waved me off. Then he spoke.

"How's the ranch holding up, sir?" he questioned casually.

Cochran didn't open his eyes. "Right well. Right well. Great person, that Sam. Look, out of respect for your mother and father, I can promise you nothing will be destroyed." Now he opened his eyes. "Maybe when you come back, you can take over around here. Your mother is getting tired. Under my jurisdiction, of course."

"Fine," Gabe agreed. "I was hoping for that."