Drummer Boy at Bull Run (2 page)

“I was about to give up.” Jeff stared down at the blue egg with satisfaction. “Well, now we can add this one—but we still don’t have one from a woodpecker.”

Leah began to count off the eggs they still needed to find. She had not gotten through the list, however, when the sound of horses approaching made her break off.

“Let’s get down,” she said hurriedly. “We’ll look silly up in this old tree!”

“Too late,” Jeff said. “They’ll pass by us.”

But the tree where they’d found the robin’s nest was beside the road, and the road crossed a large brook at the same spot. Most riders paused there to water their horses, and this was exactly what happened.

“It’s your brother!” Leah whispered in alarm.

“And that’s your sister with him!” Jeff wanted to get away, but the buggy his brother drove came to a stop beneath their tree.

“We’ll water the team,” Tom said. “It’s been a thirsty drive.”

“Well, all right, but then you’ll have to take me home, Tom.”

Leah stared down through the foliage but could see only the top of the buggy. She could hear them, however, and she whispered, “We can’t eavesdrop on them!”

“Cover your ears, then!” Jeff whispered back. “We can’t let them see us up here!” He wished he were up any other tree in the world.

“Sarah, you know I love you,” Tom said. “And I thought you cared for me.”

“Oh, Tom!” Sarah Carter was a beautiful girl. She had blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and a creamy complexion. Her simple blue dress set off her trim figure, and she was highly sought after by several young men. But her eyes were troubled as she said, “We can’t even talk about things like that.”

“Why not?” Tom demanded.

“Because things are so—so confused.” Sarah bit her lip. “There may be war next week. You know that, Tom.”

“Why, there’s always something for people to worry about. If people waited until there were no problems, nobody would ever get married!”

“This is different, Tom, and you know it.” Sarah went on, speaking softly but pointing out the difficulties. She ended by saying, “If war comes, you’d fight for the South, wouldn’t you, Tom?”

“I—I guess I’d have to, Sarah.”

“And my brother Royal would fight for the Union.” Worry crossed her smooth face, and she asked suddenly, “What would it be like if I married you—and you killed my brother—or if he killed you? Don’t you see how terrible that would be?”

Tom could only ask her to change her mind. Finally he said heavily, “I guess all we can do is hope there’s no war.”

Then he spoke to the horses, and the buggy pulled away.

Leah waited until she could not hear the sound
of the horses and wheels, then climbed down the tree.

Jeff slid to the ground too, keeping his eyes fixed on the buggy, which was turning past a distant grove of trees. “I wish we hadn’t been up in that tree,” he muttered.

“You knew he was courting her. Everybody knows that.”

“Yeah, but I feel guilty about listening to them. That wasn’t right!”

“I know. I feel the same way—but we couldn’t help it.” She put the tiny egg into a small box lined with cotton and closed the lid. The pleasure of the hunt was gone now, and she said, “I’ve got to get home.”

“Me too.”

They plodded along silently, each thinking of what they had heard. But when they came to the fork that led to the Carter place, Leah stopped abruptly and looked into his eyes. “Jeff—will you hate me if there’s a war?”

“Why … that’s a crazy thing to say!” Jeff blurted out. “Of course not!”

Leah studied his face for a moment, then whispered, “I’d never hate you, Jeff, no matter what!” There was a catch in her voice, and she whirled and dashed down the road.

Jeff watched her go. He almost ran after her. Then he thought of what Tom and Sarah had said. He whispered, “I’ll never hate you, Leah—not ever!”

Then he resumed his slow walk toward his house. His shoulders were slumped, and his dark eyes were filled with doubt. A woodpecker drummed on a dead pine over his head, but young Jeff Majors was so troubled with thoughts of a war that he did not even glance up.

F
or many years people remembered what a fine spring Kentucky enjoyed in 1861. Perhaps the dread of war, which cast gloom over the state, made the skies seem more blue and the dogwood whiter. March with its gusty winds faded, and April brought warm, gentle breezes that seemed to draw the tiny green tongues of crocuses out of the dead clods.

Leah always remembered it as a golden time. She and Jeff ranged the woods, hunting—he for rabbits and squirrels, she for birds’ eggs. She never forgot how the tiny buds softened the trees that lined the river bottoms or how the wild violets turned the ground into a fine lavender carpet. It was a spring to be remembered!

On one of their jaunts, they were returning home after a long afternoon in the woods. The sun was dipping behind the foothills in the west, and Leah murmured wistfully, “I wish we could do this every day!”

Jeff turned to grin at her. “We’d get mighty hungry, I reckon. Somebody’s got to do the work.” He hefted his bag in his left hand. “I like squirrel and dumplings—but not all the time.”

“Oh, you’re always so—so practical, Jeff Majors!”

“Somebody has to be. You can’t eat birds’ eggs and that poetry you like so much.” He trudged on a
few paces. “Spring plowing tomorrow. No more days like this for a while.”

Leah had put aside the memory of the time in the sycamore tree. Tom still came to sit on the Carter porch, but something had been lost. She could not say what it was, but there was a lack of joy in Tom and Sarah now.

“Maybe we can go hunting on Sunday afternoon,” she said hopefully. These days in the woods with Jeff were the best times for her, and she hated to think they were ending.

“Not likely your pa would let you do it. You know how strict he is on the Sabbath.” Jeff grinned again. “I don’t reckon he’d eat an egg laid on Sunday!”

They came to the small wooden bridge that spanned the creek and, as usual, stopped to lean on the rail. The western sky was red, and the water below reflected the hue.

Suddenly Leah stiffened. “Look—there he is, Jeff!”

Jeff followed her gesture and whispered, “It’s Old Napoleon!” He stared at the huge bass. It rose to take a mayfly and then sank back into the depths. “Wish I’d brought my fishin’ pole! I’d get him!”

The large fish had eluded Jeff’s efforts for months. Leah knew the boy had tried every bait and every time of day and night—all to no avail.

“Let’s go get the poles at our house and come back. Maybe we’ll get him.” Leah didn’t care about Old Napoleon—so named for his craftiness—but she longed to make the day last longer.

“All right. But your pa won’t stand for it.”

“I’ll talk him into it. Come on, Jeff!”

The two broke into a run, turning off at the lane that led to the Carter house. They grabbed the poles that leaned against a shed, but as they were raking bait out of the worm box, Leah’s father stepped around the corner.

“What are you two doing?”

“Oh, Pa!” Leah held up a huge night crawler that wiggled frantically in her grasp. “We just saw Old Napoleon at the bridge. Jeff and me are going back to catch him!”

“Why, it’ll be dark by the time you get back!”

“I don’t care, Pa!”

“Your mother’s about got supper on the table, Leah. You know how it frets her when anybody’s late to a meal.”

“Pa, we may never get another chance at that old Napoleon!”

Daniel Carter stood silently in the fading twilight, his face stiff and his shoulders stooping.

Leah looked up at him with a startled expression. “Pa … is something wrong? Are you sick?” She was well aware of her father’s poor health, and in the dusk he looked weak and frail.

“No, I’m not sick. But bad news has come.”

“Bad news?”

“Yes, Leah … very bad news.”

Jeff shifted awkwardly, as if he felt he was intruding into private affairs. “Well, I’ll just be moseying home …”

Mr. Carter turned his gaze on the boy. “It’s bad news for all of us, Jeff. For your family too.”

“What is it, Pa? Is it the war? Is that it, Pa?”

“Yes, Leah.”

Leah felt a coldness in her stomach, and fear ran along her nerves. Though the threat of war had lain
over them for a long time, somehow she had always thought that it would never really come. Though she’d heard the grown-ups talking about it, it had seemed like something far off. Now it was here.

She moved to her father’s side and took his hand. “Is it certain, Pa?”

“I’m afraid so, Leah. News just came today. It started in South Carolina. There’s a fort just offshore—Fort Sumter, it’s called. There were Union soldiers there—and the Southern forces began shelling it.”

Jeff spoke up quickly. “Maybe the North will let the South be a different country, Mr. Carter.”

Daniel Carter shook his head. “No, Jeff. President Lincoln has made it plain that he can tolerate slavery but that he won’t stand for secession. It’s his view that the Union must be held together.”

Jeff stared, then muttered, “Guess I better get home, sir.” He whirled and ran out of the yard, his lean form fading into the gathering darkness.

Leah watched him go, and a great sadness came over her. “Will Royal go to the war, Pa?”

“I expect he will, Leah.” Her father stared after Jeff, then murmured, “And Tom Majors will go too. And that will break Sarah’s heart!”

* * *

The dining room seemed to have become smaller, for it held not only all of the Carters but the Nelson Majors family as well. For years the two families had entertained each other, and as Mr. Carter looked around the crowded table, he said, “We haven’t done this in a long time, Nelson. I’ve missed it.”

Jeff’s father looked down the table at Mrs. Carter. “I remember every meal I’ve ever had here, Mary. You’re the second-best cook in the world!” Reaching out, he clasped his wife’s hand and smiled. “No offense, but I’ve got to live with this woman for a long time. Pays to keep on the good side of her.”

Jeff’s mother was expecting a child, and she had not been well. She had eaten almost nothing, and her face was pale and drawn. But with an effort she smiled at her husband. “You’d do anything to get a chocolate cake out of me, Nelson!”

A laugh ran around the table.

Tom said, “Dad’s not afraid of anybody—except my mother!” He was sitting across from Sarah, and Leah had noticed that the two of them had hardly spoken.

Then Tom looked across at Royal and said, “Well, Professor, when do you go back to college?” He grinned, adding, “In my opinion, you’ve been educated beyond your capacity!”

Royal looked up with a faint smile but said only, “My teachers would probably agree with you.”

The meal went on, and then all of the women helped to clear the table. They returned from the kitchen carrying huge chunks of apple pie and steaming cups of coffee.

Leah set the largest before Jeff, whispering, “If you eat all that, you’ll probably die!”

“I’ll risk it.” Jeff dug his fork into the hot dessert. When his mouth was full, he said, “This is good, Miz Carter!”

His father laughed. “Why, Jeff, the worst piece of pie you ever had was good. You never taste anything,
I don’t think. Now slow down and show some manners!”

“Let the lad be, Nelson.” Daniel Carter smiled. “I remember how I ate the same way when I was his age.” His blue eyes grew soft. “I would go out into the garden and dig up a big white onion, hot as fire! And I’d just eat it like it was an apple.” He stared down at his small slice of pie and shook his head sadly. “Only a boy can eat like that.”

“I eat onions like that!” Royal exclaimed.

“I’d rather have this pie than an old onion,” Leah piped up. Apple pie dribbled down her lip, but before her mother could rebuke her, she dabbed at it with her napkin.

The talk ran around the table. Only Morena Carter said nothing. She was a beautiful girl of eight but had never spoken. She had a sweet expression on her face—but somehow it was blank.

Leah reached out and fed her from time to time, spearing a fragrant piece of apple on a fork. Morena ate it daintily with a smile. She would never grow any older mentally, Leah understood, but she loved her little sister with a fierce devotion.

Her mother sat talking quietly to Mrs. Majors, speaking about the child that was to come. She was very concerned, for Irene Majors was somewhat old to be bearing a child. Mary remembered the hard time that Irene had gone through when Jeff was born—and she knew that Dr. Kinsman had advised her not to have more children.

“We’ll have that baby of yours dressed up like a prince, Irene—or a princess.” Mrs. Majors smiled. “I’ve still got some of that fine silk Daniel brought in from Lexington.”

Jeff’s father was listening, and something came into his face. “I guess you won’t be able to help with the baby, Mary,” he said quietly.

The talk that had been humming fell off, and Mr. Majors stared down at his coffee. When he looked up, his jaw was set, and Leah could see that he was unhappy. “It’s good of you to offer—but we won’t be here.”

“Won’t be here?” her father echoed. “Why you’re not leaving, Nelson?”

“Yes, we’re moving.” He glanced at his wife and nodded. “We’ve sold our place—and we’re moving to Richmond.”

His words sent a chill through Leah. She twisted her head to look at Jeff—but he kept his eyes on the table.

Royal said, “I don’t think that’s wise, sir.”

“I agree,” her father spoke up at once. “I’ve been afraid of something like this. It’s the war, of course—but the South can’t win. Why, they have no army, no munitions factory, no navy! It can’t survive. I see your mind is made up, but wait for six months, Nelson!”

“I know you mean well, Dan—” Jeff’s father shrugged “—but Irene and I are agreed. You know Virginia’s our home.”

“Yes, and Nelson went to West Point. He was trained as an officer in the engineers, you know.” Mrs. Majors’s face was pale, but she said, “It’s got to be.”

“Irene, stay here with us—just until the baby is born,” Leah’s mother urged. “Then we’ll take you to Richmond.”

“No, I’ll go with my family—but it’s kind of you to offer, Mary.”