His Civil War Bride Page 5

  Thank goodness the bench didn’t have a back. She knew if she had to precariously sit on the edge it wouldn’t be long before she ended up in the dirt.

  She took the plate he offered her and scooted the side of her skirt closer so he could sit down.

  “May we join you?” Mrs. Harris said walking over.

  “Of course,” Mason said standing.

  “Please remain seated, Colonel,” Mrs. Harris said taking a seat at the bench across from them. Peyton’s mother sat down next to Mrs. Harris. After the introductions were made, everyone dove into the feast before them.

  “It was such a lovely lunch that everyone prepared,” Mrs. Fuller said, taking a small bite of fried chicken.

  “Best meal I’ve had for a while, ma’am.”

  “What do you eat, Colonel?” Peyton asked.

  “Everything. The same as you, Miss Fuller.” He gave Peyton a quick wink before diving back into his meal.

  Mrs. Harris gave a sharp laugh. “I think what she meant is what is the Army feeding young men like you.”

  “Well,” he paused and wiped his mouth on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “Certainly nothing as fine as this.” He moved the food around the plate with his fork. “Mostly it is beans mixed with whatever vegetables or meat we can source locally.”

  “That sounds so dull, eating the same thing over and over,” Mrs. Fuller said.

  “Yes ma’am.” Mason smiled at Peyton’s mother. “However, we are just grateful to have something warm and filling. It will be much better than the hardtack that we eat when marching.”

  “What is hardtack?”

  “A mixture of flour and water. Sometimes salt if they can get it. It is baked into a hard bread that can be stored for long periods of time.”

  “I can’t imagine eating something like that for long periods of time.”

  “It fills the belly. That is all it is meant to do. Most of these boys don’t mind. I think quite a few of them weren’t getting proper meals.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “My boy that handles my horses walked here with his brother. Told me they went three days without eating, until a lady took them in and fed them. When he showed up asking for work, he had been hungry for two days. Those are the types of stories I’m hearing. That is why some of these men volunteered.”

  “That explains why several food stores were robbed.”

  “Do we need to be worried, Colonel Stout?”

  Mason shook his head. “We didn’t find the perpetrators, and nothing has happened in the past four days. I think it was just the men coming into town without having access to food on their journey. Hunger does a lot to a man. Makes him forget right from wrong. I can’t punish them, because I don’t know who did it. I don’t condone stealing, in any form.”

  “What do you need, Colonel Stout?” Mrs. Fuller asked.

  Mason sat thoughtfully for a moment. “Prayers. Prayers is all I can ask for, Mrs. Fuller.”

  “We will pray, Colonel. Pray for everyone’s safe return.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Harris.”

  Peyton sat in silence and thought about what he said. She realized she had never had a meal of beans her entire life. How fortunate that her family had money and she didn’t want for a thing.

  It brought tears to her eyes to even imagine having to walk for five days without anything to eat or drink. She heard Mason stifled a yawn.

  “Are we boring you?” Peyton asked, softly.

  Mason shook his head. “Not at all. Please forgive me. I’ve not been resting well.”

  “Do you train around the clock, Colonel Stout?” Mrs. Fuller asked.

  “No ma’am. Just during the day. We train in five-day rotations. I work with a group of men and then they, along with an officer, leave to join a regiment already fighting.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice your limp,” Mrs. Harris said. “May I ask how you were injured?”

  Peyton gasped. How could Mrs. Harris ask such a question!

  “Yes ma’am,” he replied with a smile. “I was injured out West. Came home to recuperate and go into the family’s business. But then the call for arms was sounded and I was the first one to volunteer.”

  “What type of business is your family in, Colonel Stout?” Peyton’s mother asked.

  “Steel. My father owns a steel mill in Pittsburgh.”

  Peyton didn’t miss the glance that was exchanged between her mother and Mrs. Harris. Those two were up to something.

  “Your family must be very well off,” Mrs. Harris said, nodding towards Mason, while shifting her eyes towards Peyton.

  “We manage,” Mason said with a smile, shoving a bite of potato salad in his mouth.

  “It must be taxing, if you haven’t had time to rest.”

  “It is at that. Now that the other officers have arrived, I do have a bit of reprieve.

  “Ladies, please forgive me, but I need to take my leave.” He pulled out his watch from his pocket. “In fact, I need to get back to the camp right now. We have a group of men shipping out tomorrow and I need to make sure that everything is set for them to leave.”

  Peyton looked at Mason. She could see the circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. “Don’t you ever rest?” Peyton asked him.

  “Not much right now. It doesn’t help that my quarters and office are the same room. I should be able to rest in a few weeks.”

  Suddenly a blond streak came running by. Mason reached out his arm to calm the boy. “I am ready to go. Have you eaten yet?”

  Pup shook his head. “I guess I’ll just eat later, if you are ready to go.”

  “Is this your son?” Mrs. Fuller asked.

  “My Pa’s dead,” the boy said. “My Ma, too.”

  Mrs. Fuller’s eyes flashed from the boy to Mason. “Are you taking care of him?”

  “Just until he is twelve.”

  “What happens then?” Peyton wondered.

  “I get to join my brother’s unit and play the drum.”

  Mrs. Harris gasped. “You mean to tell me, that you will be sending this young man to the war?”

  Peyton felt ill, looking at the round face of the child in front of her. She couldn’t believe that he was eleven. He looked no more than nine. This poor boy wouldn’t stand a chance in a battle. He was just a child.

  “The Army will, ma’am. Not me.” He placed his hand on Pup’s shoulder. “Let’s get going, Pup,” he said.

  Peyton quickly stood. “May Pup stay and eat? I can escort him back over as soon as he is done.”

  Mason thought for a moment, then nodded. “That would be acceptable.” He turned to the young boy. “I want you to get your meal and return to the stable, do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said with a shout as he grabbed Peyton’s hand and jogged towards the table.

  Peyton glanced over her shoulder. She could see Mason watching as Pup chatted happily, pulling her along. Her mother said something, and Mason nodded, leaning down to speak to her.

  When Mason stood, he gave Peyton a wave before walking back towards the camp.

  Chapter 6

  Peyton turned to follow Pup the rest of the way to the table. She handed him a tin plate.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  Pup eyed the spread. “It looks like a feast.”

  “That it is,” Peyton laughed. “Do you like chicken?” Pup nodded. Peyton picked up two pieces of fried chicken and placed them on Pup’s plate. She added salads, and a hearty slice of cornbread.

  As they walked by the cakes and pies, she saw his eyes go wide. “Would you like a piece of cake?”

  “That looks really good.”

  “I’ll cut you a piece and get a cup of milk. Can you walk back over to the bench by yourself?”

  Pup nodded and trotted back to where Mrs. Harris and Mrs. Fuller were seated. By the time Peyton arrived with a thick slice of cake, Pup was swinging his legs as he shoveled food into his mouth.

  “H
ere’s your milk,” Peyton said placing a cup on the bench next to him. “Don’t spill it.”

  “I won’t.” He looked around the yard. “Do you do this every Sunday?”

  Peyton laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice,” she mused. “No. Only once a year.” Pup looked disappointed. “Do you like picnics?”

  “I like food,” he said. Everyone laughed. Suddenly he turned somber. “I wish I could take some of this back to Henry.”

  “Who is Henry?” Mrs. Harris asked.

  “He’s my brother,” Pup said around bites of chocolate cake.”

  “Well then,” Mrs. Harris said, “we will just have to do that. In fact, we should probably package everything up and we can take it over. It would be a nice change from beans and rice.”

  “Do we have enough?” Peyton asked. The table was pretty picked over. There wasn’t much of any one item left.

  “We can make sandwiches,” Mrs. Fuller suggested. “I know!” she jumped excitedly in her seat. “We can create a team of volunteers to make extra bread and then provide sandwiches to the men every Sunday.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea. We must go and talk to Mr. Harris about it.”

  The women left, leaving Peyton alone with the small boy. “I guess that it is just you and me, now.”

  Pup looked at her. “You sure are pretty.”

  Peyton blushed. “Thank you.”

  “My ma was pretty. I miss her sometimes. Henry says I need to forget.”

  Peyton wanted to pull the boy closer and give him a hug. “I don’t think you should ever forget your mother. If anything happened to mine, I know I wouldn’t be able to forget.”

  “Your ma is nice.”

  Peyton laughed. “Don’t tell her that! But yes, she is.”

  “I’d like to have a Ma again.” Peyton didn’t know what to say. Peyton sat in silence as Pup ate his cake and finished his milk.

  “Did you enjoy that?” she asked. He nodded and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

  “May I have some more?” He held his plate out to her.

  “Why don’t we fill a plate for your brother, and I’ll be sure to cut another piece of cake. Does that sound good?”

  Pup nodded.

  Peyton watched as Pup added more to his plate and selected items for Peyton to put on his brother’s plate. When Pup had enough, Peyton covered the plates with linen napkins and gently placed them inside a basket. She then added two slices of cake – one for Pup’s brother and one for Mason.

  Peyton looked around for someone who could walk over with them. Peyton wasn’t concerned about the walk from the church. The camp wasn’t even a quarter of a mile up the road.

  It was just being surrounded by so many strangers. She took a deep breath. She just needed to remember that these men were all fighting for the same cause. There had to be good in them, and Peyton was simply overreacting. She recalled what Mason said about the men simply being hungry.

  Grabbing Pup’s hand, she said, “I can’t find anyone to go with us, so we will just stay close to each other.

  The walk over to the camp was uneventful. Peyton did manage to get Pup to tell her his real name. David.

  “But you gotta call me Pup.”

  “Why is that?” Peyton asked.

  “Because it is what my brother calls me. I kicked the last person that called me David. He was mean. I’d hate to kick you, being a lady and all.”

  “I’d hate for that as well.”

  “So, you gonna call me Pup?”

  “I make no promises,” Peyton said.

  Pup led her to a tent close to the stables. The smell of horse manure and unwashed bodies made Peyton pull out her handkerchief and hold it against her nose.

  She wished she had some perfume to block the stench. How could the men manage to live like this? They were probably oblivious to the rank odor coming from the living area.

  “My brother lives here,” he said sitting on one of the logs that surrounded a fire.

  The coals were still warm. Probably to make it easier to reignite when the men came back around.

  “You gonna sit down?” he asked her.

  “No, I’m not. I need to drop this off to Colonel Stout.”

  “He’s over there,” Pup said pointing to the brick building. “His office is the third door down.”

  “Are you going to wait here?” she asked him.

  Pup nodded. “My brother should be here soon.”

  “Alright.” Peyton lifted the cover on the basket and pulled out one of the pieces of cake. She handed the basket to Pup. “I’ll be back for the basket and plates shortly.” Pup nodded and took the basket, placing it on the ground between his feet to guard it.

  Peyton walked towards the brick building. She would simply drop the cake off and then head back to the house. Looking around she didn’t see anyone, so she ventured down to the third door. It was slightly open.

  She recalled Mason saying that his office was in the agriculture building. She knocked slightly, but there was no answer. She lifted her hand and knocked harder.

  “Come in,” a muffled voice called from the other side of the door.

  Peyton pushed open the door slightly. “Colonel Stout, I brought you…” The words died on her lips at the sight before her.

  Mason’s back was towards her. He was removing his shirt. As he lifted it, his head was covered, hence the muffled voice.

  Peyton tried to turn her eyes away, but she couldn’t. She could see the well-defined muscles of his back and arms. She had never seen a man’s torso before, and Colonel Mason Stout was exquisitely made.

  As he continued to remove the shirt and toss it on the bed, Peyton let out a gasp and dropped the plate, the sound of it hitting the floor echoed through the room.

  Mason’s back was covered with whip marks and he had a scar on his right shoulder from a bullet passing through. His flesh was puckered and bright red in spots.

  Mason whipped around. He quickly picked up his shirt and held it against him, but not quickly enough. Peyton stood frozen in place.

  They looked at each other, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Peyton noticed Mason’s eyes were no longer the color of the cloudless sky. Instead, they were dark blue, the color of a thunderstorm. He gazed on her with a hunger she had never seen or felt before.

  Peyton felt her heart race.

  “Miss Fuller,” Mason said breaking the spell.

  “Please forgive me, Colonel,” Peyton said and raced from the room.

  “Miss Fuller,” she heard him call to her, the sound of his boots could be heard against the stone floor.

  Peyton didn’t stop. Her cheeks burned and she held them as she raced from the building. She didn’t look where she was going as she tried to get as far away from the confusion she was feeling.

  As she ran, she nearly collided with a young man holding her basket. He held out his arms to block her path.

  “Pup told me you came this way. I’m Henry. Pup’s brother. I just wanted to return your basket and dishes. Thank you for the vittles, Miss.”

  Peyton nodded. She didn’t want to speak, the image of Mason still fresh in her mind.

  “Pup was telling me about you. I was wondering if I could ask a favor. If you say no, it’s alright. I just want to keep him safe.”

  “W-w-what is it?”

  “Don’t let him get involved, Miss,” Henry begged. “I’m hearing stories about folks not coming back. I don’t want to even think about him being near the fighting. I leave tomorrow and he won’t have anyone.”

  “Then why did you bring him here, Henry?” Peyton looked over her shoulder, afraid that Mason would walk through the doors any minute.

  “I didn’t have nowhere to take him. Folks don’t want an extra mouth to feed. I couldn’t just leave him after Ma and Pa died. The bank came and took everything, so we didn’t even have a place to live. Then I saw the notice in town.”

  “So, you can read?”

  “I
can read enough,” he said standing up tall. “I know my letters and I can put together words.”

  “I was told that he can’t do anything until he is twelve. He has a few months.”

  “You mean years.”

  “No,” Peyton corrected. “I mean months. Isn’t he eleven?” Henry paused and a sinking feeling welled up inside Peyton’s belly.

  Henry shook his head. “No ma’am. He just turned nine.”

  “Miss Fuller?” a voice sounded behind her.

  Peyton turned. Mason had put his shirt back on and was standing in the doorway leading to the barracks. He turned to Henry. “Solider, return to your company immediately.”

  “Yes sir.” He saluted and turned, running back towards the tent.

  “I – I-,” Peyton didn’t know what to say.

  She watched as Mason leaned on his right leg, relieving the pressure on his left. She noticed he winced as he adjusted his weight. Finally, he looked at her, a pained expression on his face. “You need to go home and not come back.”

  Peyton ran all the way home. She would give the basket to Mary and ask her to return it the next time she was out.

  When she arrived inside, she heard her father call to her from the sitting room. Peyton smoothed down her skirt and patted her hair, making sure her snood was still in place.

  She walked into the living room and stopped.

  “Justin!” she cried, running forward. As she approached him, she wrinkled her nose. “You stink,” she admonished.

  “I just got back.”

  “Where were you? I thought I saw you at the camp last week.”

  “It couldn’t have been me. I was out of town.”

  “Where did you go?”

  Peyton noticed Justin glancing over to Mr. Fuller. “I went on a business errand for your father.”

  “An errand that requires you to come back smelling like the south end of a barn?”

  “I haven’t headed home. I wanted to come and see you first.”

  “I’m so happy you did. Have you heard about Christian? Or about Catherine? I’ve not seen either one of them since Christian volunteered.”

  “He has been very busy.”

  “They aren’t sending him out, are they?” She knew her friend wouldn’t survive if her husband was sent to fight. She glanced around the room and noticed her father had discreetly stepped outside.