The Lieutenant's Promise

THE LIEUTENANT’S
 

PROMISE

Aileen Fish

©2015 Aileen Fish

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CHAPTER ONE

June 28, 1861

Wilson Creek, Missouri

“Cletus Bocephus Gilmore, you get your tail back here before I tan your hide.” Emily Gilmore waved a switch at the enormous hog that’d escaped his pen yet again. It had plenty of mud available to keep itself cool, thanks to the unrelenting rain this past week. The sun managed to break through this morning just long enough to make the air thick and heavy, but not dry the ground.

Cletus ignored her shouts and continued to waddle toward the woods on the edge of Em’s family’s farm. This had become almost a ritual, his knocking down a fence rail and slipping out to rut his way through the fresh undergrowth in the woods on the west end of the farm. Although, slipping wasn’t the best word to use on a critter his size.

“Em, wait,” cried Billy from behind.

She paused and glanced back at her little brother. The poor boy had a smudge of dirt in his sandy brown hair already. He was always forgetting to wear his hat. At eight, he was finally old enough to take on a few of the chores more difficult than gathering eggs or slopping the pigs. Try as he might, it didn’t make up for the fact that Tom, ten years older than Billy and four younger than Em’s twenty-two, had just joined up with the Union Army after the secessionists took over the governmental buildings in Jefferson City.

Ma was beside herself now with worries. After Pa died, Tom had taken on much of the heavy work that now fell to Em, and Ma was certain Em couldn’t keep the farm going. Ma had her hands full with the younger kids, and hadn’t been herself since Harvey’s birth almost two years ago. Having lost her husband six months before didn’t help.

Em watched Billy struggle to pull his boot out of the mud, wobbling on his other foot. She walked back, bent down and tugged the boot free, noticing the mud beginning to clump on the hem of her dress. “There you go. Now let’s get that boar and put him back in his pen. We have chores to do.”

Rufus, the old red hound, had his nose to the ground and ran off after whatever animal he’d smelled.

Once Cletus found the tender shoots he sought and ate enough to feel indulged, he allowed Em and Billy to guide him back. As the three of them trekked between the trees, through the briars, and around the stumps, Em heard movement to their left. She grabbed Billy’s arm and raised a finger to her lips.

Billy nodded, looking in the direction of the footfalls. Cletus continued on his way, filling the quiet with his satisfied grunts.

Em crouched and Billy did the same. She heard voices now, but they weren’t close enough to make out their words.

Billy looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s Tom,” he whispered.

“How can you tell? I can’t see a thing.”

“I know his voice.”

She shook her head, still unable to make out anything more than the fact they spoke casually, no sense of urgency. That was a good sign, perhaps. After the battle near Boonville to the north, she worried that the Missouri State Guardsmen would ride through their area, recruiting men to fight on the side of the secessionists. It wasn’t likely, with the Union soldiers said to be at one of the forts not far from Springfield, but with Pa in his grave and Tom gone, the protection of her family fell to her.

The voices drew closer, and Em heaved a sigh. “You’re right, Billy. That’s Tom. I should’ve listened to you. Come on.”

She rushed toward the approaching figures. “Tom! What are you doing here?”

“I live here, remember?” He winked at her. He stopped in front of her, setting the butt of his rifle on the toe of his boot, likely to keep it out of the mud. His dark brown hair stuck out beneath his dark blue Union cap. Tom looked so grown up in his uniform. It was hard to think of him as a man now. He was still the brat who used to tug her pigtails and push her down in the pigpen.

A handsome, slightly taller young man, also in uniform, chuckled beside Tom. His straight, brown hair needed a trim, but it simply gave him a more rugged look that belied his crisp military stance. He grinned, sending her pulse racing. The dimple in his left cheek certainly added to his charm, as did the light of laughter in his deep brown eyes.

She tore her gaze away from him to chide her brother. “Don’t be daft. Why aren’t you with the rest of the troop?” Panic suddenly hit, her stomach knotting. “Have the rebels come this far?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” the stranger said.

“Lieutenant Lucas, this is my sister, Emily. Em, this is Lieutenant Levi Lucas.”

“It’s a pleasure, Miss Gilmore.” He bowed slightly, like a gentleman, making her wonder where he was from. His accent said Missouri, but few men she knew locally had fine manners like his.

“You find us on reconnaissance,” he continued. “Our company is camped a few miles north of here, so you might see Union soldiers passing through. No need to alarm yourself.”

“That tells me you believe the rebels are here.” She studied his face. He was probably keeping anything he knew to himself, either to prevent her from being afraid for her family’s safety, or to stop her from saying something to the wrong people.

The lieutenant raised one eyebrow. “If we knew where they were, we wouldn’t be searching, now would we?”

Emotion heated her skin, but Em wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or outrage. The nerve of the man speaking as if she were a child, or a simpleton. Lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, she spoke in an equally polite voice. “I’d have thought the Union Army was better organized than to send its men out willy-nilly. Forgive my ignorance.”

The right side of Lieutenant Lucas’s mouth twitched and he appeared to be fighting a smile. “Touché, Miss Gilmore. You do, however, understand the need to keep our maneuvers closely guarded. The Missouri State Guard fled south after their defeat at Boonville, that much is true.”

Em glanced at Tom, and back at the lieutenant. “Do I need to take the rifle with me when I leave the house? And insist Billy stay behind? What about Maggie working the fields with me? Will she be safe?”

“I don’ wanna stay by the house, Em,” Billy argued. “Ma said I’m big enough to help with chores now. Besides, I can shoot almost as well as you.”

That much was true, she hated to say. Even Maggie was a better shot than Em was. She waited for Tom to answer.

“Yes, take the rifle. I don’t think we’ll have raids like in the border wars, do you think, Lieutenant?”

“I pray we don’t. Those raids wrought terror on innocent people. The Missouri State Guard should be more organized in their fighting. At least, they’ve proven themselves to be. To this point, they’ve only challenged Union troops, not civilians.” He lifted the brim of his cap, gazing down at Em with a serious expression. “Be alert, Miss Gilmore. You can never tell how passionate men might behave.”

Her heart fluttered as she took his words to mean something else entirely. She could easily imagine him threatening to steal a kiss…would she put up a fight?

Stop that!
The man talked of battles and killings, but she could only think of love. It was a nice diversion from the next chore needing her attention.

Chores. Remembering why she’d gone to the woods, she searched for their boar. “Cletus. We were chasing him back to his pen.” She ran off toward the farm.

Heavy footfalls sounded behind her, then Tom passed her by. “I should fix those posts before we move on,” he called back.

“I can do it,” she argued. “You are on duty, aren’t you?”

The Lieutenant caught up to them. “If the two of us work together, we can have it done quickly enough. You’d best keep the pig contained and stay out of the woods.”

For some reason, his words angered her. He thought she knew nothing about safety. She had more than enough to worry about with coyotes and bobcats in the nearby woods, and the fox that loved to steal their chickens.

To keep from saying something she’d regret, she slowed and waited for Billy to catch up. “You’re getting pretty fast,” she encouraged when he reached her side.

“No, I’m not. My legs aren’t as long as yours.”

Em smiled. He was too old already to be treated like a child. Thank goodness Susie and Harvey would stay young a while longer.

Cletus was nosing about the picket fence surrounding the vegetable garden, but he was easily led through the gate of his pen. Tom showed Lieutenant Lucas where the fence posts were stacked, while he went into the shed for hammers and nails.

Before returning to her chores, Em spoke to Billy. “Go tell Ma Tom stopped by. She’ll want to see him.”

Fred, their mule, was still tied to the tree where she’d left him when Cletus escaped. Hitching the plow to the mule, she started at one corner of the field where they’d just harvested the early corn. Fred worked with little complaint, which made the job much easier.

In the middle of the field, as she turned back toward the barn, she noticed the lieutenant watching her with his hand held beyond the brim of his cap, shading his eyes. If they were done with the fence, shouldn’t they be getting on their way? Lieutenant Lucas remained in place the closer she came to him.

“Whoa, Fred.” Em wiped her hand where her bonnet rested on her forehead before the dampness could reach her eyes. “You two finished the pig pen fence?”

“We did,” he said.

She gnawed the inside of her cheek to keep away a smile. “You didn’t happen to shovel the pen out while you were there, did you?”

He glanced down at his uniform. “I’m sure you can tell by looking at me. I remained outside the pen while we worked. Tom has spare clothes here. I’d have to wear that stench until we return to camp tonight. How am I supposed to conceal my presence when they can smell me coming from miles away?”

“Stay downwind?” She bit her lip, holding in laughter. He still looked so polished, and her hem had to be six inches deep in mud by now. Plowing after a rainy spell meant having her boots gain three pounds each by the time she finished a field, even when she waited a few days for the land to dry out some. She had to sit on the porch at the end of the day and scrape her boots, and take them off before going inside.

What must he think of her, wearing the farm from head to toe as she must be, rather than poised and perfumed as the ladies he was likely accustomed to? What bothered her more than his opinion of her appearance was her concern over it.

He glanced out over the fields and outbuildings, his hands resting on his hips. “You are working land this on your own?”

“My sister helps me. Our hand, Jasper, is a freeman, and he moved north. He was afraid of what might happen to him and his family with the secessionists causing so much trouble.” His concern rubbed her the wrong way. He and Tom faced much more danger than her family.

“There’s no one living nearby that you can ask for help?”

“Come harvest time in the fall, several of the families get together and help each other.”

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not safe for you here, not without a man around.”

Her fists began to clench, and she debated walking away to end the conversation. “We don’t have much choice in the matter, until Tom is able to come home for good.”

“Your farm is on the path between the Union camps and the likely position of the Home Guard. The next battle could fall right here in your fields. Where will you go to escape the cannons and gunfire?”

Em leaned forward to be certain he heard every word. “There’s the basement, a root cellar in the barn, and the springhouse. We’ve kept safe from tornadoes that have passed close by. We can do the same when we hear gunfire.”