A Place of Peace (13 page)

The rifle was lying on the grass just out of the reach of the fire where Melinda had dropped it before running into the house.  She crawled over to it, curling her hands around it.  It was comforting to her, like a child sleeping with a favorite doll. 

chapter fifteen

“We’re lost,” said Holcomb
, looking around at the endless expanse of hills that marked the majority of the western Tennessee landscape.  “None of this looks familiar to me.”

Colby removed his hat, shading his eyes with his hand.  “Well, we haven’t gone that far,” he said.  “I’d say we’re about a day to the west of
Nashville, maybe.”

Holcomb chewed on a piece of grass before looking back at the wagon.  Lilly was stretched out in the back, taking a nap.  It had been her idea to turn north instead of heading east to
Columbia.  Colby knew a main road that ran into Nashville from the west side, but Holcomb insisted they stay off the main road.  The items in their wagon were more valuable than if they had been carrying a load of gold bars.

Colby stood on a good crutch that Lilly had produced from the back of the wagon.  She had told him that she could fit him with an artificial leg if he wanted, but he declined: his leg was still sore, and he found he could walk better with the crutch.  Holcomb was glad Colby was on his way to recovery: it would make it a lot easier to stay in
Murfreesboro instead of carrying him all the way home.

“I estimate a good eighty miles,” said Holcomb.  “A good week at least.”

Colby hobbled over to the side of the wagon and sat, his back against one of the wheels.  The horse was a way off, munching on the crisp, spring grass, glad to be free from the wagon. 

“You know,” said Colby.  “When we left, I didn’t think it would be this difficult to get back home.  We have a wagon, we have good supplies, it should be as simple as just going, but...” he looked at the surrounding hills.  “This war has changed everything.  Instead of crossing our home state, we are crossing enemy territory.  Did you ever think you would think that?  Strangers in our own country.”

Holcomb pulled out an apple from his pocket.  His mind turned to the woman lying in the back of the wagon.  Colby was still unaware of the way she looked at him, but Holcomb noticed it each and every time Lilly’s eye went towards him. 

“Colby,” he said.  “What are you going to do once you get home?  I mean, after you find this girl and give her the letter.  What happens after that?”

A small smile came across Colby’s face.  “I really don’t know.”

Holcomb heard stirring coming from the back of the wagon.  Lilly was awake and would probably be wanted to know why they weren’t moving.

“The Yanks more than likely be west of Nashville, too,” said Holcomb.  “They came down the river, after all.  I still say our best bet is to go east.  Get to Columbia and get some news. We part ways there. I go south to Murfreesboro, you can get north.”

“What about Lilly?” asked Colby.  “Where does she go?”

Holcomb fell silent.  “I don’t know.”  The thought of her trailing Colby all the way to his home could only lead to disaster, especially if Colby was having feelings for this Melinda girl.  He could see it going badly for that poor girl, even though she knew nothing of either of them.

He looked up and saw Lilly standing there, hair slightly tousled from her nap.  She had climbed out of the wagon and was stretching. 

“Good afternoon, boys,” she said, smiling.  “What’s the plan then?  Dump the tag-along as soon as possible?  Ditch the dead weight?”  Her eyes flicked over to Colby, who was still shading his eyes with his hat and didn’t notice.

“We should go east,” said Holcomb.  “I was telling Colby here that we have a much higher chance of running into Yank cavalry west of
Nashville if we continue go to north.”

“What do you think, Colby?” asked Lilly.  “Where do you want to go?”

She watched as his hand unconsciously went to his pocket: the pocket she knew held the portrait of Melinda. 

“I think east,” said Colby, his fingers tracing the circular outline of the portrait in his pocket.  “I think we need to get Holcomb home to his wife.”  He caught the grin on Holcomb’s face.  “And then we can take the main road through
Nashville.  It’s occupied by now, but I don’t think they’ll concern themselves with a crippled soldier missing a leg.”

Lilly turned away.  “Sure,” she said.  “Whatever you want.”  She cleared her throat and looked around.  “We should camp here, I think.  It’s getting late in the afternoon, and I’m hungry.  I… will go see about some firewood.”

Holcomb nodded as he watched her blink a tear back before moving around behind the wagon.  There was a lot she was doing that she didn’t know Holcomb was seeing.  All the little movements and gestures.  All the looks, and ... all the times he had watched her pain as she tried to hide it.  Colby wasn’t seeing any of it.  That boy was lost in thought over that girl in the picture.  He looked over at Colby who was staring off at the sun.

Holcomb sat beside Colby.  “This girl,” he said slowly.  “This girl in the picture you keep looking at.  What is it about her that’s got you so hooked?  She
doesn’t even know about you.”

Colby’s face transformed with a wistful look: the look of a schoolyard crush.  Holcomb shook his head.  “You know,” he said.  “I’m worried about you. I think you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment. You are in love with a girl who literally does not know you exist. And you are bringing her news of her father, which will put you in a negative light
with her forever.”

“What are you saying, John?”

Holcomb cleared his throat.  “I don’t know,” he finally said.  “I’ve got no business telling you yours, I suppose.”  He nodded in the direction of Lilly, who was returning with an armload of sticks.  “But you owe that girl a lot right there.  It’s something to think about.”

***

Over their tiny campfire
, they cooked some bacon and used the grease and some handfuls of flour to fry up some small griddlecakes.  Holcomb munched on his apple as the coffee simmered in its pot on the remains of the embers. 

“Colby,” said Lilly suddenly, her eyes reflecting the fire.  “What are you going to do once you get home?  John here said you raised tobacco.  How will you do that now?”

Colby sat in silence.  Holcomb knew he hadn’t given it much  thought.  Holcomb knew Colby had been so consumed with the idea of Melinda, that there hadn’t been much thought about the future.

“I’ll figure something out,” he finally said.  “I always do.  Hire people to help me, I suppose.  I can still feed pigs with one leg.” 

Lilly nodded, but Holcomb watched her closely.  She was calculating how good of a farm wife she would be.  How much she could help Colby.

Holcomb cleared his throat.  “I imagine that they’re always be a need for news,” he said.  “Especially with the war.”  An awkward silence fell back over them.

Lilly’s eyes narrowed at the intrusion into her conversation with Colby.  “John,” she said, a bittersweet tone in her voice.  “What will they say when you get home?  Won’t they question why you’re back?  After all, you’re little more than a deserter.  Colby here at least has an excuse.”

Holcomb choked, bits of his apple spraying into the fire.

Before he could speak, Lilly continued.  “You were a prisoner of war, yes?  And you escaped.”  She shrugged.  “What does that mean for you?  The Confederate Army will conscript you back in, wait and see.”

“That’s enough, Lilly,” said Colby, his tone coming out a little sharper than he would have liked.  “Leave him alone.”

Lilly fell silent, not liking the sound of Colby’s words.  Holcomb stood.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, flinging his apple core into the fire.  “I’ll go see to my business.”  He stomped away in the dark, leaving Colby and Lilly staring at each other across the flames.

“The chances of him being conscripted are small,” remarked Colby.

Lilly shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick.  A shower of sparks rained up.

“I wanted to tell you,” said Colby.  “I just wanted to tell you thank you for all you’ve done for us.”

“Just us?”

“Well… me, especially,” said Colby, feeling his face blush, even in the dark.  “I’m not so good with telling people that.”

“Thank you.”  There was a lilt to her voice that told Colby she was smiling in the darkness.

“I don’t know honestly what I’m going to do,” said Colby.  “I need to find this girl, though.  I will do that before I figure everything else out.”

“Oh,” the lilt in the voice was gone.  “Then you’ll be gone back to your farm.”

“To be honest, I don’t know what’s happened to my farm.  I told my neighbors to keep an eye on it before I left, but who knows what’s happened since then.  That was a year ago.”

Lilly started to say something else.  Colby could hear her intake of breath, but it stopped as Holcomb returned and stepped into the firelight.

“We might have some problems,” Holcomb announced.  “I spotted some fires over some hills over there,” he pointed off to his left.  “Several.  More than just a couple of fellas out for a night.  Maybe cavalry, or scouts.  I couldn’t tell if it was our boys or the Yanks, but I don’t think we should stay here with our fire lit.  Someone might be curious.”

Lilly frowned.  Again, Holcomb detected that she didn’t appreciate yet another intrusion.  Colby finished his coffee.

Holcomb looked from one to the other.  Had they been having an intimate conversion in the five minutes he was gone?  Had they even spoken to each other at all? 

“Colby?”

“Yes, John, of course,” Colby said.  “We’ll douse the fire.  But I don’t think we can get far tonight.  We’ll hunker down here in the dark and keep a watch out.  We’ll sneak off at first light.”

Holcomb looked over at Lilly, who was nodding in agreement.

“Okay,” sighed Holcomb.  “I can keep first watch.”  He went to the rear of the wagon and picked up his rifle and haversack.  After shouldering his sack, he loaded his rifle.

“Lilly,” said Colby, “You can sleep in the wagon tonight.  I’ll just put out a blanket and sleep out here.  It’s plenty warm.”

“But your wound,” said Lilly, glancing over at Holcomb, who was pretending to not listen.  “I wouldn’t want it out in the chilly dampness of the night air.  You should sleep in the wagon.  There’s plenty of room.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be fine,” said Colby.  “I wouldn’t want to be improper.”

“We’re just sleeping,” said Lilly, and Holcomb heard the edge in her voice.  “I would trust you would be a gentleman.”

Holcomb almost laughed, but stopped short.

In the end, Lilly had climbed alone into the wagon and, after giving Colby another long, hard look, dropped the canvas flap over the back.  Colby stretched out in the grass with his blanket half beneath him and the other half rolled around him.  Holcomb stood about fifty yards off, keeping a close watch on those fires in the distance.  There was still a long way to go.

***

Colby heard the horses
long before he saw them.  He jolted awake, looking around and not remembering where he was.  He then saw the wagon and the smoking remains of their fire from the previous night.  Holcomb hadn’t come to wake him up for his turn at watch.  He unwrapped himself from the tangle of his blanket and looked for his crutch.  The dawn was just creeping over the edge of the hills, but there was plenty of light to see by.

The horses were coming closer.  He rolled over and found his rifle propped up near the wagon side.  Clutching his rifle in one hand, and his crutch in the other, he crawled from his sleeping position, clawing his way across the ground to stop beneath the wagon.  He peered out between the wheels, waiting.  He made sure his rifle was loaded and primed.  He half-cocked it and braced it between the wagon wheel spokes.

A faint crack of a rifle reverberated among the hills.

Lilly…

Colby crawled out from beneath the cover of the wagon.  He saw their horse where it had been tethered a few yards away.  It munched its grass mindlessly.  He half-hopped to the back of the wagon.

“Lilly!”  He flung the canvas flap open and saw the woman, still sleeping, curled up beneath one of the old gray blankets they had brought with them.

“What?  Colby?” she sat up, bits of straw clinging to her hair.  “What’s the matter?”

“I heard horses, and a gunshot.  Come on, get up.”

He left her in the back of the wagon as he scanned the surrounding countryside.  There was no sign of John Holcomb, and the faint rumble of horses was coming closer.

Lilly emerged from the back of the wagon.  Colby noticed she had changed into a simple green dress.  She had also brushed her hair out until it shone.  In her hands, she held their other rifle, looking as if she was ready to charge the entire Northern line.  She gave Colby a sly smile.

“What now?”

“Come on, we’ve got to find John.”  Colby began the process of hitching up the horse.  “Keep an eye out.”

“There,” she said, pointing.  “Union cavalry all right.  Looks like two columns.”

Colby looked where she pointed.  Yes, she was right.  They were bearing down on them at a steady trot.