Words Heard in Silence (67 page)

Rebecca stood and looked out of the window at Charlie, who was gently petting and soothing the injured horse he was treating. "That is how I felt the very first time I saw Charlie. I did not understand it at the time, but thinking back on my father’s words, now I do. There is no other for me. And it is not just the image, Sergeant Jackson. It is very much the woman I love."

She turned to face him. "I do not care how Charlie looks when he returns home. All that matters to me is that he does." She approached the Sergeant, standing over him to make perfectly sure he was clear on the next thing she was about to say. "I will not care if Charlie is wounded. I will not care if he is maimed. I only care that he returns home alive."

Rebecca retook her seat. "I know you are one of Charlie’s dearest friends and I know you are only concerned for him. I value that, for Charlie needs his friends at his side. I had thought you and I were on our way to becoming friends, Sergeant Jackson, but if you do not believe in my sincerity of feelings for Charlie, then I cannot believe that is the case. I do appreciate your help with the wedding and I will have Mrs. Cooper consult you about further plans." She sipped her tea. "Good day, sir."

"Ah, ma'am, I think I may have managed to join a clan I usually do not associate with. The Clan O'Blivious. You have my most profound apologies. I allowed my natural skepticism to overwhelm the evidence before me. And Charlie is going to have his hands full, I can see." With a sweeping bow, Jocko continued. "I do hope, madam, that you and I can be more than friends - that we can be allies."

"I would very much like that Sergeant. I do so want Charlie’s friends to be my friends and find comfort in our home. Your apology is gratefully accepted sir. Thank you." She gestured back to his seat. "Now, please finish your tea while we figure out what kind of wedding to give our Charlie."

Jocko smiled as he took his seat. His General had found his match - a stubborn Southern woman with a high sense of honor and devotion. Well, perhaps he would take Charlie up on his offer of a position after the war.

A
fine layer of frost lay over the ground, so the world glittered in the thin, clear early morning sunlight. Both men were squinting into the rising sun as Jocko drove Charlie to the train station.

Charlie rode with the engineer, fascinated with the intricacy of the great steam engine. Into the crisp morning, the black smoke, filled with ashes and cinders from the burning wood of the engine left a trail of urgency that almost matched Charlie’s need to finish his errands in the Capitol and return to Rebecca. He was hoarding every moment with her; this trip was a necessity he was determined to complete as quickly as possible.

The lamplighters were out doing their work as the cab Charlie had hired at Union Station moved down Massachusetts Avenue in the direction of downtown Washington. Charlie rode toward the White House, which was just a block away from the hotel he always stayed at, the venerable Willard. He paid the cabbie then walked in.

"Ah, Colonel Redmond." The clerk at the counter registered the change in insignia. "Excuse me, General. Welcome. It has been many months. Congratulations on your promotion."

"Hello, Simpkins. Thank you. Do you have a room available?"

"Yes, sir. Would you like some dinner while I have it prepared?"

"Something simple, I think. Perhaps just a plate in the tap room?"

"As you wish. I will have a bath drawn for you as well."

"Thank you, Simpkins."

"Would you like me to send around and inform Miss Lizzie you are in town?"

"Not tonight, Simpkins. I have another appointment this evening. I will see her myself tomorrow."

Charlie ate a simple dinner of roast mutton and greens, then took a quick bath to remove the dust and grit of the train from his hair and body.

A
s he finished dressing for the evening, a doorman knocked politely and handed him a message. The materials he had brought up to show General Montgomery C. Meigs, the Quartermaster General of the Army, had been delivered. The General asked Charlie to present himself at his home that evening at eight. Charlie smiled, although the smile did not travel all the way to his eyes. Perhaps he would finally get to the bottom of this problem.

Charlie checked his appearance. He needed to be Sheridan’s perfect Regimental Commander tonight. With the letter from Sheridan tucked carefully into his breast pocket, he set out. It was unusual for Charlie to not have met a career officer like Meigs before, but then, Meigs had been a desk officer or an engineer for his entire career, while Charlie had been a field officer. While most of the men Charlie knew, including himself had at some point drawn administrative duty, the idea of doing it all the time made Charlie uncomfortable. He liked to be out and about too much to be stuck at a desk all day.

He arrived at Meig’s door exactly at 8:00. A well-mannered young captain met him at the door and escorted him into Meig’s study. It was nothing like Charlie had expected. The furnishings were good, but worn. There were ledgers and files carefully stacked all over the place. The man himself was not what Charlie expected either. He expected someone with money, power and a number of lackeys. He found a lean man with ink stained fingers, mediocre brandy, and an obvious desire to do a good job.

The two men talked at length. The problems were clear, but there was little either of them could do. With all of the money flowing to purchase the basics needed to run an army, it was easy for the purchasers in the field to make a little here, and a little there by substituting the goods ordered with lesser quality. And all those "littles" added up to an irresistible temptation for many of the men in Meigs’ command. In addition, there were too few people in the Quartermaster’s office, too many people in the field, and too many supplies needed to be able to control anything. Meigs was fully aware of the problems; he simply had not found a way to fix them.

Meigs had some suggestions for Charlie and prepared a number of notes for him to deliver the next day to the clerks and purchasing agents who provisioned his forces.

"I am sorry, Redmond, but that is the best I can do right now. There just is not enough time in the day to do better, given we have been draining the resources of this country for four years already. I wish you the best of luck."

Pleased to have met such a dedicated officer, yet discouraged by what little Meigs could do to help with his particular problems, Charlie returned to his room at the Willard as the night watch cried midnight. It would be a long morning dealing with the clerks in the Quartermaster’s office.

E
m had been grumpy all day. Her papa was not there to play with. Dinner was abysmal. If Charlie was not there to feed her, she did not want to eat. Bedtime was purgatory. All Em could do was sob and call for Papa.

Finally, she fell asleep. Rebecca kissed Em goodnight, pulling a blanket over the sleeping baby's shoulders. "Sleep well, little one. Papa will be home in a few days."

Rebecca stoked the fire in her room to keep it warmer through the night now that she was sharing a room with Em. Constance could no longer care for her child, having barely enough strength to eat the soup Beulah was constantly providing to the young woman.

As Rebecca climbed into bed, her thoughts were a jumble, missing Charlie and knowing in her heart that Constance was not going to survive. She wanted to speak with the young woman, but was not sure how to broach the what was on her mind. It seemed more than rude to ask her permission to look after Em. For Rebecca felt almost like the angel of death, waiting for Constance to pass.

She rolled over and pulled Charlie's pillow into her arms, realizing that tomorrow she would have to speak with Constance. Things would simply have to be put in order; surely Constance would understand and appreciate her concern.

She rolled over again and stared into the fireplace thinking about all the things that had to be accomplished before Charlie left for the spring campaign. The most important thing, of course, was their wedding, which was coming closer every day. Rebecca was terrified they would not be able to provide a wedding worthy of Charlie and his position.

The ladies of the community were very reassuring and very good about letting Rebecca fret. They actually found her quite amusing. She, on the other hand, was becoming the epitome of the nervous bride-to-be.

She had been nervous on her wedding day to Gaines, but for entirely different reasons. Her nervousness with Gaines had been generated by fear. With Charlie, it was because of the love she felt. She decided she definitely preferred the feelings marrying Charlie evoked.

When she drifted into sleep it was restless; she was continually searching for Charlie. His absence was having a severe impact on her ability to sleep. Then the dream started; Charlie's lips tenderly kissing her neck. She groaned and threw the covers off to try and cool her body, which was quickly becoming overheated.

C
harlie’s first stop on that cold morning was with his attorney to draw up a new will. Then he headed off to the bank to add Rebecca to his accounts and to set up her own trust fund. He was surprised, and quite pleased, to discover he was a far more wealthy man than he had thought. The balance was several hundred thousand dollars, due to some very astute investments his banker had made. On every payday for almost twenty years, he had placed funds in the hands of the bank’s investment and estate planners, and they had done a fine job for him. He was, by all social conventions and measure, a very wealthy man.

From there, he went to the office of the Paymaster of the Army. He spent a very long time working with the Army’s clerical staff arranging for Rebecca to receive his pension in the event of his untimely demise, as the terms of the benefits contract stated.

Having completed his legal tasks, he set off to the haberdashery on G Street with Rebecca’s list clutched in his hand. Walking into the store and looking around was a rather intimidating experience for the usually self-effacing General. It was a world that was very definitely feminine, filled with bolts of fabric in all weights, materials, and colors, with great racks of buttons, pre-made bows, rolls of lace, threads of more colors than any rainbow ever contained. There were forms that could be adjusted to emulate the exact body structure of a woman. All of this was flanked with acres of hat forms, feathers, ribbons, and things for which Charlie simply could not identify.

Charlie looked at the list in his hand and at the bewildering array in front of him and realized he needed help…… lots of help.

He turned around and marched out of the building. The jeweler would be much easier. Rounding the corner, he went into the discreet and elegant shop a few doors down from the haberdashers’. The shop owner looked at the dapper General and recognized a gentleman of taste. The two gentlemen talked quietly, and then Charlie looked at some stones and settings. Within about thirty minutes, they had reached a satisfactory agreement. Charlie arranged to return the following afternoon to pick up three rings –– two for Rebecca and one for himself.

Charlie took himself back to the Willard for a glass of beer in the lobby. It had become a tradition in town that all gentlemen of substance met in that large lobby at around 4:00 every afternoon for a glass of beer. Mr. Lincoln walked over from the White House, along with his command officers and advisors. Anyone who wanted to see the President made a point of being there to join him. Charlie wanted to have a final word with the Quartermaster General, and meeting at the Willard during the afternoon gentlemen’s constitutional was much easier than trying to get another appointment. Unfortunately, General Meigs did not show up. Charlie politely saluted his Commander-In-Chief, who had a couple of kind words for him, finished his beer, then went upstairs to don eveningwear. He had a mission –– to acquire knowledgeable feminine support when he went back to the haberdashery on G Street the next day.

His evening would be spent convincing Lizzie to help.

R
ebecca paused outside the door of Constance's room, with the breakfast tray. She decided she would see how the young woman was feeling before bringing up the unpleasant business at hand.

Entering quietly, so as not to disturb Constance if she was resting, she was surprised to see her sitting up in a chair looking out of the window.

"Good morning dear, it is good to see you up and about."

"Good morning, Rebecca. It is a lovely morning, is it not? I think the view from your back windows, out over the fields, with the mountains in the mist, is one of the most peaceful sights I have ever seen."

There was a strange quality to Constance’s visage. She was pale and frail, except for the swelling of her belly, but there was clarity and a peace Rebecca had never seen on anyone’s face before.

"Yes, I love it here. It is a beautiful place." She sat the tray on the small table then moved it in front of the young woman. "I am fortunate that I will be able to remain here. So many others have lost so much."

"But you have chosen to share it with us, and for that I am very grateful. You have given me more than I can ever express thanks for. You have given me peace at a time when I thought I would never experience it again. And you have given me a vision for my future and my childrens’ future that I am very happy with."

"I am glad. You know you are welcome to remain here for as long as you like. Charlie and I have fallen in love with Em and we would miss her terribly."