Shades of Gray: A Novel of the Civil War in Virginia (72 page)

“You know where it is. Help yourself,” Andrea
said absently to the girl, who was already through the door and in the house.
Her thoughts drifted again to the past, to a time when the rolling, emerald
fields of Hawthorne had been new to her.

“Mother.” Daniel knelt down by the chair and
placed his hand on hers, jolting Andrea from her memories. “There’s a wagon
coming up the drive. Can’t tell who it is.”

Andrea stood and watched the two-horse team pull
up to the house and stop. The wagon’s lone occupant, a gray-bearded man, stared
for a moment without speaking, looking first at Andrea standing on the steps,
then over her shoulder at Daniel, blinking all the while as if shedding away
the years.

“Mr. Carter! What a nice surprise.”

“Surprise?” He jumped lightly off the wagon and
gave her a hug. “You received the invitation did you not?”

Andrea’s smile faded. “Yes I received the
invitation, but I did not respond. I-I do not wish to attend.” She nodded
toward her son, putting an end to the conversation. “I suppose Daniel has grown
since last you saw him.”

Carter grasped Daniel’s outstretched hand, his
eyes sweeping over the youth who stood a full foot taller than his mother.
“Spittin image,” he said, acknowledging that the boy, born from the union of
some of the noblest—and possibly most stubborn—blood of Virginia, had inherited
the physical characteristics of his father. “Too bad if I drove all this way
for nothing.” Carter turned his attention back on Andrea. “Fannie was looking
forward to having you spend the night and then going to the picnic bright and
early tomorrow.”

“What picnic, Mother?” Daniel interrupted.

“It’s a reunion, son. The men from your father’s
Command get together every year. Your mother has never attended and the men are
anxious to see her.”

“Oh, Mother, can we go? You … we … never go
anywhere!” Daniel turned to Carter. “She never goes anywhere,” he repeated, as
if telling the man something he didn’t already know.

“I am sure no one is anxious to see me.” Andrea
lifted her skirt and began making her way back up the steps.

 “War’s over, ma’am.”

Andrea turned and stared hard at Carter. “For
some it is. As you well know, in Virginia, the Rebellion dies hard.”

“And you are a Virginian are you not?”

“What I am and what people say are two different
things,” Andrea replied, knowing stories that had begun as gossip and rumor
during the war had, over the years, turned to legend and fact. “And what I was
and what people think are equally diverse.”

“As you wish.” Carter sighed. “I didn’t think
you were the type to surrender to hostilities without a fight, but I
understand.”

“I am surrendering to nothing. I do not care to
go.”

“It’s been fifteen years, Mrs. Hunter. Surely
you can attend just this once.”

“Mother, can we?”

Andrea looked at her son sternly. “Go inside a
moment, Daniel, and see what is keeping Angelina.” Andrea watched him glance at
Carter, then back at her, and knew she had gotten her message across: Keep
Angelina in the house until I say it is all right to come out.

Andrea waited until she heard the door close
behind her. “I care not how they should treat me at this gathering of well-meaning
friends and designing enemies. I have stood friendless in the midst of enemies
before. But I’ll not have my son abused and devoured as food for gossip because
of the allegiance or supposed heritage of his mother.”

“No one will dare mistreat that boy as long as I
draw breath,” Carter said calmly.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Carter.” Andrea took a
step toward him, her voice low and distinct. “I say it not for his protection,
I say it for
theirs
. For I can and shall take care of my own!”

Carter swallowed hard.

“The punishment will be as certain as the
crime,” she continued, not noticing his uneasiness. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Quite madam.” Carter took out a handkerchief
and dabbed his brow.

Andrea took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She revealed lashes now misty with tears. “I suppose I cannot
always protect him from …” She drew another deep breath. “Against my better
judgment, I will accept your invitation. You will allow me the honor of a few
minutes to prepare?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Carter said, shaking his
head and trying to conceal his smile of satisfaction. “Fannie will be most
delighted.”

* * *

Andrea and Fannie were chattering away when
Carter pulled the horses into a great expanse of field that served as picnic
grounds. Though it was early enough that dew still blanketed the grass, the
meadow was already packed with horses and wagons and people of every age and
description. Andrea gazed in wonderment at the assemblage of veterans and their
offspring, and then looked at Carter with an amused smile. She had never seen
so many children in one place in her life!

But as Carter took her hand to help her down
from the wagon, Andrea’s gaze drifted over his shoulder to rest on the hills
that lay beyond. For a moment she imagined she heard a voice rising above the
roar of guns in the midst of a hard-fought battle. And when her eyes met
Carter’s briefly, he nodded in understanding of a time when they had both heard
those hills ring with the clarion voice of her husband leading a charge.

“Mother, may I go look around?” Daniel asked
excitedly.

Andrea gave a nervous glance to Carter and he
nodded his head. “He’ll be fine.”

“I suppose so,” she said reluctantly. “Don’t go
far.”

Andrea’s gaze drifted back to the picnic
grounds. Everywhere she looked there were children running, playing, laughing
and talking. The war veterans stood around in groups, patting each other on the
backs, apparently recounting heroic incidents of the past, while their wives
huddled around huge picnic tables piled high with food.

When Fannie became engaged in greeting an old
friend, Andrea stood idly by watching the rush of activity with an amused
smile.

“Mamma.” Andrea looked around to see if anyone
was going to claim the blonde-haired girl who stared up at her with large, expressive
eyes. When no one stepped forward, she bent down and picked her up. “I’m afraid
I’m not your mamma.”

“Hey, Will! You lose one of your flock?” a man
walking by yelled to someone behind her.

Andrea turned around, smiling now, with the
child clinging to her neck. The gentleman referred to was likewise engaged in a
conversation and had his back to her. But at the sound of his name he turned.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said, holding his arms out for the child.

Andrea was midway through the exchange with the
man when their eyes met—and the past collided with the present. “Captain
Pierce.” His name escaped Andrea’s lips before she could stop it.

“It’s Will, ma’am,” he said, staring into her
eyes, and bowing politely with the child in his arms. “William Benjamin Pierce,
at your service.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Andrea looked down. “Mr.
Pierce.”

“No need to apologize. You may call me Captain
Pierce if you wish. Old habits are hard to break.”

He smiled graciously, revealing two small
dimples Andrea could not recall ever having seen. Otherwise, she noticed, he
had the same striking appearance as when he wore a Confederate uniform—except
he was perhaps more handsome, for his face and his eyes were softer, no longer
carrying the bitterness and anger he displayed so constantly during the war.

“I can’t believe ol’ Carter was successful,” he
said in an amused voice before quickly changing the subject. “I’d give you a
hug, but my hands are full.” The child began to struggle in his powerfully
built arms. “Want down!”

“Father, may I go over by the brook?”

Andrea watched another young girl, perhaps
fourteen, tug on Pierce’s shirt from behind.

“Yes Ellie, but where is Esther? And Alexander?
And here, can you take Lillian to your mother first?”

Andrea’s smiled widened. “Four children?”

Pierce grinned and sat the youngest on the
ground. ‘Yes, and another on the way. Ellie, I would like you to meet the
Colonel’s wife. May I present my eldest daughter, Ellie.”

“The
Colonel’s
wife?” She looked at her
father in disbelief.

“Yes, the one and only.” He turned back to
Andrea. “Please come and meet my wife.” He took her by the arm, not giving her
the option of declining. “We have a picnic table in the shade where we keep the
flock.”

Charlene!” he yelled, dragging Andrea the last
couple of yards. “I’d like you to meet Mrs. Hunter.”

A woman who had been bending over peeling a
banana for a young girl straightened slowly, her stomach swollen with impending
birth. “The
Colonel’s
wife?”

“Yes, the Colonel’s wife.” Pierce sounded
exasperated. “I apologize,” he said, apparently noticing Andrea’s look of
confusion. “I fear your name is a bit of a legend in my household. They do not
believe you are a mere mortal of flesh and blood.”

“Me? You mean because I am married to Alex?”

“No … you because you are… you.”

Charlene came forward and grabbed Andrea’s hand.
“I have always wanted to meet you,” she said shyly, continuing to stare at
Andrea.

“You’ve got a beautiful family. Those I’ve met
so far anyway.” Andrea gazed around at the smiling faces.

“She met Ellie and Lillian,” Pierce explained to
his wife. “Well, this is Esther,” Charlene said, pointing to a girl of about
ten, eating a banana, “and that is Alex.” She nodded toward a youngster who now
had a tight grip on his father’s leg.

Pierce bent down and picked him up, his eyes
meeting Andrea’s over the significance of the name. “My only son. We have to
stick together against all these women, don’t we, son?”

Andrea smiled at the compassion shown, then
turned her attention over his shoulder to search the crowd for signs of Daniel.

“You look like you’ve lost someone,” Pierce
said.

“Yes, my son. He wanted to explore a little.”

Pierce cocked his head to one side as if
surprised.  “Oh yes. I remember Carter telling me now. I don’t know where the
years went.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch.”

Andrea smiled. “I see you’ve been quite busy. No
need to apologize.”

“I went out West right after the war. Didn’t
really keep in touch with anyone for awhile.” He gazed over her shoulder.
“Well, what is your son wearing, maybe I can— Well I’ll be damned!”

“William Benjamin Pierce!” Charlene exclaimed as
Andrea followed his gaze.

“Oh, I beg your pardon.” Pierce’s eyes were wide
and disbelieving. “It appears my daughter has found him. He’s not hard to
recognize.”

Andrea smiled when she saw the young lady
leading Daniel by the arm toward her family. “Father, I would like you to meet
Daniel. Can you believe this is his first reunion? He says his father fought
with this Command.”

Pierce looked in amazement from Andrea, to her
son, to his daughter, and back, while Ellie turned to make other introductions.
“And this is my mother. And this is Mrs. Hunter, the
Colonel’s
wife,”
she said proudly. “My father
knows
her.”

Daniel looked at his mother. “So do I,” he said.
“That’s my mother.”

Ellie’s face turned pale, then bright red. “You
did not tell me—” She looked at Daniel in astonishment. “You didn’t tell me. Oh
my, then your father—”

The boy shrugged and sat down on the edge of the
picnic table. “You never asked it of me.” He turned to Pierce. “I believe I’ve
heard your name in stories about my father.”

“I hope in a good light.” Pierce looked at
Andrea and chuckled. “Your father and I did not always see eye to eye.”

“Yet your father respected him and relied on him
immensely,” Andrea said.

“So you fought with my father?” Daniel’s eyes
glowed with interest.

“I was a captain.” Pierce’s gaze fell on Andrea
again. “I fought under your father. I fought
with
your mother.”

“In more ways than one!” Another voice joined
the conversation. Andrea turned around at the presence of a hand on her
shoulder. “Boz!”

“It’s Nelson, ma’am. Nelson Boswell. And you
remember Gus Dorsey.” He nodded toward the man beside him. “Mr. Boswell. Mr.
Dorsey.” Andrea gave both an enthusiastic hug. “This is my son, Daniel Hunter.
I suppose you know everyone else.”

Boswell looked at Andrea. “I think I could have
figured that one out too. Looks just like his sire.”

“You were saying,” Daniel said, his head cocked
to one side. “My mother fought with Mr. Pierce?”

Pierce looked from the boy to Andrea. “Surely
he’s knows all about— You’ve told him about—”

“He knows of his father’s accomplishments.”

“But not yours?”

“She speaks not of her past,” Daniel
volunteered. “Never.”

“There is nothing to speak of.”

Pierce, Boz, and Gus looked at her in amazement.
“The Colonel was proud of your deeds, your efforts on behalf of the Command,”
Pierce said. “Surely your son has the right to know that.”

“My husband died for what he believed a pure and
holy duty,” Andrea said. “Anything I did for the Confederacy was for purely
selfish reasons. I do not like to compare the two.”

“You are mistaken if you believe that.” Pierce
shook his head. “Your sacrifices are all the more significant that they were
made on behalf of his Cause—not yours.”

“I’d like to hear, Mother.”

“It was a long time ago,” she insisted. “Things
were different then.”

“Indeed they were,” Pierce said, turning to
Daniel.  “She has told you nothing?”

“Nothing at all, sir.”

“Oh my, fellows, this is going to take awhile,”
Pierce said.

“Daniel, they will fill your head with
outrageous stories,” Andrea said. “Let’s take a walk.”