A Quilt for Christmas, page 15
I have not much to tell. We tramp & tramp & then we engage the enemy & for an hour or two, we live in terror. The dirt & smoke are so thick in battle that we do not know if we are shooting foe or friend. May God have mercy if I have murdered one of my comrades. In the last engagement, the man fighting next to me was felled by a bullet from behind. He had raised up his head at the wrong moment & was killed by a Union soldier. Had I been a little closer, I might have gotten the bullet. Never fear, dear wife, I am disposed to keep my head down. A Secesh had me in his sights that same day, but I laid him aside. It was a bad fight. The bushes were chawed off by the bullets, not a leaf was left. When all was done, the bodies of the dead were covered by a network of twigs & leaves. The dead are placed in trenches & covered by soil, the way I cover the potatoes to protect them from the frost of winter. Often our men are buried in bunches, like dead chickens. Sometimes the graves are so shallow that the wild hogs dig up the bodies & consume them. The people hereabouts refuse to eat the pigs.
We barely have time between battles to rest but must be on our feet to march again. Time marches on even faster. I thought it was only mid-October but am told the month is nearly over. Still, time cannot move fast enough for me. We have been ordered to lay by a day, then take the town, but God bless me, I do not know what town that is.
I have the picture of you taken just before I went for a soldier. You are wearing the blue dress, your hand with the old wedding ring at your throat, & it reminds me I never bought you the gold ring with the ruby. I intend to do it first thing I return. I hope you are getting on well—but not too well—without your old husband.
Now, Eliza, I forbid you from working too hard. You will do the children no good if you are not fit because of overwork. But I would like to ask you to knit me some mittens, if it is not too much trouble. We received a shipment of them made by Quaker ladies, but they are worthless, as they were knit without trigger fingers. You would laugh were you to see some of the items made by wives. One sent her husband velvet slippers with roses embroidered on them, while another made a pair of trousers that button on the wrong side. The soldier must stand on his head to button them.
Scurvy has broke out & I wish you could send me a sack of onions. We don’t eat so good now. Last night all I had was ramrod bread, which is cornmeal smeared on my rifle ramrod and cooked over a fire.
Eliza had sent the onions. She’d made the mittens, two pairs, and a muffler, too, but Will had never written of their arrival. She wondered what had happened to them.
I have never been so weary. I would trade a week’s rations for one good night’s sleep. If it were not for the bugle or the kicks of the officers to send us on our way, I believe I could sleep for a month. I have not shaved since I left home & must carry five pounds of dirt in my beard and clothes. My appearance would make a cat laugh.
Forgive me for writing such a sorry letter. If I could not unburden myself on you, I do not think I would make it. I know this war is not easy for you, either & that you endure hardships you do not tell me about. Dearest Eliza, I push on to finish off this war. I feel it will end soon & I will rejoin my family & friends in Kansas ere long.
Remember me to the children. Give them love from their old Papa & keep a good measure of it for yourself.
Your Devoted Husband
William T. Spooner
* * *
In June, the Starks left Wabaunsee County. Nobody knew for sure where they had gone, but several noted that when they left, the Starks headed south. And later on, a man passing through remarked about a family of surly men he’d encountered on his way from Texas.
Because he held the mortgage on the farm, John Hamlin claimed the Stark house and land, which was foul with refuse and dead animals and a mule in such poor condition that it had been left in the barn to starve. John brought it to Eliza and said if the animal was cared for properly, it would heal and could be hitched to a plow. “It would be a kindness to one of God’s creatures if you’d take it in,” John said.
Eliza saw through the ruse. John was like Eliza’s other neighbors, who under the pretext of asking her for a favor were doing her a good turn. She did not have the money for a mule, and Sabra was too old to work much in the fields. John knew that and was giving her the mule in such a way that her pride would not be hurt. Eliza accepted the animal in the manner in which it was presented. Perhaps John should have given the mule to the man who let the Stark farm, but Eliza was in such need that she didn’t suggest it. The new tenant was a one-armed Union veteran named Root who would work the place with his twin boys, Chad and Cheed. The man’s wife, John mentioned, had hung quilts on the wall, quilts almost as pretty as Eliza’s. She understood that John expected her to return his kindness by calling on Mrs. Root and becoming her friend. Eliza would do that.
And she would care for the soldiers, just as she hoped someone would have cared for Will if he’d needed it. Eliza was used to seeing bummers and Union soldiers tramping along the road on their way west. Some bore wounds. Others had soldier’s heart, the weariness that came from seeing too much death and carnage. A few rode horses but most walked. Sometimes they stopped at the farm and asked for water or begged a meal, and Eliza, knowing Will would have wanted her to, shared her supper or even went without to give it to the hungry men. A few inquired about work, but Eliza could not pay them. On occasion, a soldier, asking nothing more than a little food and a place in the barn to bed down, stayed a day or more and worked the fields or repaired the barn or mended harness. The familiar work took his mind off the terrible war, he would say. But after a time, each of them moved on.
The last one had disappeared the day before a man Eliza thought never to see again rode into the Spooner farm.
CHAPTER TEN
July 2, 1865
The afternoon had been hot, and Eliza had taken a resting spell under the cottonwoods that lined the creek. She and Will had fished the creek on summer afternoons, never catching much more than crawdads, but they didn’t mind, because it was peaceful in the shade. They had been lucky to find land with a grove of trees. The creek was Eliza’s favorite place on the farm, and she couldn’t help but think of Will as she sat on the bank with her bare feet in the water.
Was it only the summer before that Will had caught her like that? He had crept up and howled like an Indian, and Eliza had been so startled that she fell into the creek. She was furious at her husband, who laughed at her as he reached down to help her climb the bank. “How could you!” Eliza cried, and then she yanked Will’s arm, and he, too, fell into the water. He looked so comical as he stood up, water dripping from his head, his clothes soaked, his hat floating on the water, that she forgot she was angry and began to laugh. They both laughed.
“I can’t work in wet clothes,” Eliza said, removing her dress and hanging it on a tree branch in the hot sun. Will took off his shirt and pants, too, then suddenly turned and grabbed her up. He lowered her onto the ground, and they made love. Right there, in the daylight, on the ground, not even thinking someone might come upon them.
The memory made Eliza flush, and sitting under the trees alone, she thought this a sacred place. She felt Will’s spirit and wished she had brought one of his letters with her. The remembrance of Will brought her pleasure then, not pain, and Eliza wondered if that was a change in her, if from now on Will’s life and not his death would be foremost in her mind. Perhaps the joy would come only once in a while, but it was a start toward acceptance.
Eliza would have stayed there all day, but there was work to be done. So she walked back across the fields to the barnyard and was startled to find a man there sitting on a horse, his back to her.
“I say again, hello the house,” he called in a harsh voice. That was the proper thing for a stranger to do, to wait in the yard until someone came out to greet him. He was a large man with a beard the size of a rosebush, and his horse was a fine one. If he was a soldier, he was no ordinary soldier.
He did not see Eliza as she emerged from the field behind him. She saw him look around the farm as if it were his, and she thought him a little arrogant. Because of the horse and the rider’s fine suit of clothes, she wondered if he was an officer, and then she noticed the gray cape and decided he was a Confederate. She would offer him a drink, but she would not give him a meal. She hoped Davy was not around. Since he hated the Secesh as much as Will had, he might start a quarrel. When the man saw her, he made no move to dismount or even remove his hat.
“There’s a dipper by the well,” Eliza said.
“Didn’t come for water.”
Eliza waited.
“I said I didn’t come for no water.”
“Then what is it I can do for you, sir? Why are you here?”
The man threw his leg over his horse and looked around the farm again, peering at the house and then the barn. He studied Luzena as she came outside and threw a pan of dishwater into the flower bed, stared at her as if he had the right. “I come looking for someone.”
“There is no one here to interest you. I believe you may have gotten the wrong farm.”
“Oh, I got the right farm.” He slowly dismounted and stood before Eliza. “I got the right farm, Eliza Spooner.”
Eliza stared at the man. The beard covered his face, but his eyes were familiar—dark eyes, deep, maybe cruel. She did not like them. “Who are you?”
“Don’t you know?”
Eliza shook her head.
The man gave a mirthless smile and said, “I’m Hugh Stark, and I come for my wife.”
“Hugh!” Eliza’s hand flew to her mouth. “But you’re dead. I saw the letter.”
“Oh, I wasn’t dead. I just didn’t want to be a soldier no more.” He chuckled as if he had just shared a joke.
Eliza stared. “How can that be?”
“I put my truck on a dead Yank, and I give a man a dollar to make sure the gov’ment thought I was the one that was dead. Then me and another fellow took off. You heard of Quantrill?”
Eliza had indeed heard of the outlaw who terrorized Kansas with his gang of bushwhackers. They sympathized with the South and were no better than thieves and cutthroats. “You were one of Quantrill’s Raiders? But you enlisted for the Union.”
“I never cared about the Union. Nor the South, neither, if you want to know the truth of it. I just wanted to get off the farm, and I had me a gaysome time of it. But I come back for Missouri Ann, so you tell me where’s she at. And you be quick about it. I ain’t got time to waste. They say there’s a price on my head for what I done with Quantrill, so ain’t nobody in Wabaunsee County to know I’m here.”
“What makes you think Missouri Ann is with me?”
“Oh, I come across Dad and them down south of here. Funny thing running into them like that, right there on the road. They thought I was dead. Missouri Ann done a good job of telling it. Why, they was never so happy to see a body as they was to see me. Mother even said it was like the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” He paused, thinking that over. “I guess it was at that.” He smiled, and Eliza thought there was never a man so unlike Jesus Christ as Hugh Stark. And one who so little deserved resurrection.
“At any rate, Amos said Missouri Ann’d been living with you, but he believed she had married the blacksmith, damn her soul. I went to the smithy, but it’s been sold. Missouri Ann shouldn’t have done that. She should have acted like a proper widow, waiting for her husband to come back.”
Eliza blinked at the irrationality of what he’d said.
“You know as well as me that marriage ain’t legal, me being her real husband and alive and all. Mother says to leave be, that there’s plenty of girls younger and prettier who’d have me. But I fancy Missouri Ann. Besides, she belongs to me, and ain’t nobody else going to have her.” He looked at the house, but then turned back to Eliza and stared at her with his angry eyes.
“Missouri Ann believed you were dead. She had a right to marry again. You leave her alone. She’s found a better man than you.”
Hugh smirked. “Ain’t nobody better than me, not for Missouri Ann anyway.”
“Oh, I know about you, Hugh Stark. Missouri Ann told me how you held her down, forced your seed into her.” Eliza blushed at words that burned her tongue
“I didn’t force nothing on her. She wanted it. She’s a wildcat, that one. Hell, I might not even have been the first one. If Nance hadn’t looked so much like a Stark, I’d of thought she might not be mine.”
“How foul!” Eliza shouted. “You profane her. You have no right.”
Eliza was so loud in her declaration that Luzena came outside and walked toward her mother, a carving knife in her hand. “You want me to ring the bell, Mama?” she asked. The bell would summon Davy.
“That isn’t necessary. Mr. Stark is just leaving.” Eliza feared that with his quick temper, Hugh might find a reason to attack Davy, and she knew Starks fought dirty.
At the name Stark, Luzena jerked up her head, then moved to her mother’s side. “Which Stark?” she whispered.
“Hugh Stark. He wasn’t dead after all, just a common deserter,” Eliza replied.
Hugh smirked, then looked over the girl, grinning at her. “You’re just about the size of Missouri Ann when I first knowed her—knowed her like the Bible says.”
Eliza clenched her jaw. “You’d best be on your way, Hugh. We do not care to have you here.”
He laughed, then took a step forward, towering over Eliza and Luzena. “Now you tell me where Missouri Ann’s at or maybe I’ll just take this girl. She looks ripe enough.”
Luzena looked up at her mother, then slowly moved her hand to give Eliza the knife. But Hugh saw the weapon, and before Eliza could grasp it, Hugh brought his huge hand down on her arm, and the knife fell to the ground.
“Mama!” Luzena screamed, grasping her mother’s arm, but Hugh yanked her away, dragging her toward the horse. Eliza rushed forward, as Luzena whimpered, “Don’t let him take me.”
“Let her go!” Eliza screamed, but Hugh only laughed and tightened his grip on Luzena’s arm.
“Help me, Mama,” Luzena cried.
“You tell me where Missouri Ann’s at?”
“I won’t,” Eliza replied.
Hugh twisted Luzena’s arm until she screamed and cried, “Tell him Missouri Ann went off to Oregon. It doesn’t matter. It’s a big territory. He’ll never find her.”
Hugh laughed as he released Luzena, shoving her to the ground, and turned to Eliza. “Well, now, I guess I got what I come for. I’d take this one with me, but she’s not woman enough for a Stark. I’ll tell Missouri Ann when I catch up with her that you said howdy. She’ll say it back, that is if I let her.”
“No, Hugh, you mustn’t go there,” Eliza protested. “She has a new husband, a good one. Shame on you for following after her.”
Hugh mounted his horse, and pulled back on the reins so hard that the horse took a step backward. “Mother fancies that baby. Maybe I’ll bring Nance back instead of Missouri Ann.” He spurred the horse and took off down the lane.
Luzena lay in the dirt until Hugh was gone, then Eliza helped her stand. “Is your arm all right?”
“I screamed louder than necessary.”
“You were a brave girl,” Eliza said.
“He wouldn’t have taken me, would he?”
“No.” But Eliza wasn’t so sure. “Whatever made you smart enough to say Missouri Ann had gone to Oregon?”
“It was all I could think of. I couldn’t say Colorado. I guess I can outthink a Stark.”
“You do it even better than Missouri Ann.” Eliza paused a moment. Then she said, “Luzena, I believe it is best that we don’t tell anyone about this, even Davy. Mr. Stark said it’s not known he has been here, so no one but us will be aware he is alive.”
“But what about Missouri Ann?”
“She should know least of all. You see, since Mr. Stark is alive, Missouri Ann is still married to him. That means she is…” She paused, but continued when she decided that Luzena was old enough to understand. “She is living in sin with Mr. Ritter. But if she does not know it, is she really living in sin? I believe the knowledge Hugh is alive would only bring her grief. Can you keep the secret?”
Luzena smiled at her mother. “You know I can.”
* * *
They never heard of Hugh Stark again, or any of the Starks, for that matter. People believed they had settled in Texas or perhaps had gone on to Arkansas or Alabama. But at any rate, they disappeared from Wabaunsee County.
Some weeks later, Eliza received a letter printed in a childish hand that she recognized immediately as Missouri Ann’s. Eliza had picked up the letter at the post office and put it into her basket so that no one would see it. She believed it prudent to keep Missouri Ann’s whereabouts to only the members of the quilt group. Outside, she stood by herself in the sun, too excited to wait until she returned home to read the letter. So using her fingernail, she picked at the wax on the envelope and removed the letter, noting as she did that the envelope was postmarked Georgetown, Colorado Territory.
Dear Friend Eliza
Me & Print Ritter & Nance has arrived in Colorado & we are living in the mountains. Print & his brother are looking for a gold mine. I like Print fine but I don’t like mountains. They are too big. Print says when we get our stake we will go back to Kansas, that is if the Starks has gone off. I ain’t so much afraid of them out here. You will never guess who I saw when we went through Denver. It was Clara the colored we hid. She made it safe & she takes in laundry. She come right up to me on the street her not even knowing who I was & says in the funny way she talks you got washing you need done lady? Well, I says you look like Clara & she says I am Clara & I say I’m Missouri Ann & I’m married now & I’m Mrs. Ritter. She did my washing & didn’t charge a cent. She says if you come to Colorado she’ll do yours free too because you was so good to her. She asked what you done with the quilt square & I told her mine was right there with me in the wagon but I didn’t know nothing about what you done with yours. Well we are fine. Nance talks a good bit now & next year me & Print have got up our own baby. I am sorry I left you when you was grieving so bad & I hope you are better. Please write to your old friend & tell me the news. Print says to give Mrs. Spooner his regards & regards from your friend Missouri Ann, too.
