Carver Farm, Missouri, 1862
Moses Carver ran to the front porch when he heard Eli calling, afraid the raiders had returned and wondering if they would be able to fight them off again without more loss of life and property. His wife was already herding their children into the cellar, and little Henry's terrified face infuriated him; the boy's mother and infant brother had been taken by the raiders and were in all probability dead. Well, he would make the bastards pay this time. "Eli, where…"
"It's jus' one, Mistah Carvah," the field hand said, squinting down the winding road that led up to the farmhouse. "One of our boys, but then them others was too."
"Those theivin' devils weren't ‘our boys', they were just wearin' our uniforms," Moses corrected. He, too, squinted at the slowly approaching figure, noting the footsore limp and the dust-covered gray uniform. The man was carrying something as well, but from this distance Carver couldn't tell what it was. He frowned. "All right, Eli, let's go out to meet him and see what's goin' on."
Eli settled his own gun in the crook of his arm and dropped back a pace so he could cover his master's back. "You think maybe he's got lost from his unit or somethin'?"
"We'll find out soon enough." As they drew nearer Moses could see that the man was an officer and wore a saber at his side and a gun at his hip, and he was carrying the odd-shaped bundle in his arms as though it were something precious and fragile. "Ah'm lookin' for Mistah Moses Carver," the man called out in a voice heavy with the sorghum drawl of Virginia. "Would eithah of you gentlemen know him?"
"I'm Moses Carver," the farmer said. "Who wants to know?"
The man stopped and saluted tiredly. "Captain Ezra Standish, suh. Mah men and ah came across a pack of renegades several days ago, we were able to get out of one of them that your farm was the last place they'd raided. They had this child with them, suh, and we assumed he belonged to you."
The bundle chose that moment to emit a thin wail and Moses Carver almost dropped his gun. He darted forward to look down into the swaddling blanket and found himself being stared up at by the baby he'd assumed dead along with his mother. "George! You mean they still had him?"
The relief in the young officer's face gave way to a scowl. "He was layin' on the bare ground when we found them, ah was amazed he was still alive." He carefully transferred the baby into Moses' eager arms, then took off his hat and held it over his heart. "We were too late to save his mothah, suh, ah'm sorry. And the baby was very weak; we took the best care of him we could, but ah'm not certain it was enough."
"He's alive now, that's what matters." Moses reluctantly handed the baby off to Eli. "Eli, take George to Mrs. Carver and tell her what happened, she'll know what to do." He then turned back to the man who'd brought the child home. "I can't thank you enough, Captain Standish."
The younger man shook his head. "Ah'm just sorry that the vile miscreants that perpetrated such an atrocity were wearin' our colors, suh. Returnin' the baby was the least we could do."
Moses smiled at him and held out his hand, and was pleased with the firm handshake he received. "You still have my gratitude, Captain. What happened to the raiders?"
The younger man's jade green eyes darkened; he couldn't have been more than twenty, but he suddenly looked a much older and harder man . "We captured or killed as many as we could, suh, but regrettably some few got away from us. You might warn your field hands to keep their eyes open in case any of them return this way, and if possible advise your neighbors as well." He sighed and put his hat back on. "And now if you'll excuse me, suh, ah must return to mah men."
He saluted again, then turned and began to walk back the way he'd come. Moses stared at his retreating back for a full minute before the limp once again registered and he cursed himself. Have the depredations of this cursed War addled me so much I've started to act as mannerless as a damn Yankee? "Captain Standish, wait!"
The young man turned around with a questioning look that also showed a measure of suspicion. "Somethin' else ah can do for you, suh?"
"I'm forgettin' my manners, you'll have to forgive me, Captain. Won't you come up to the house so Mrs. Carver can add her thanks to my own? We'll be sittin' down to supper soon as well…"
The captain laughed. "Ah appreciate the offah, Mistah Carvah, but your lady wife would most likely thank me to stay out of her nice clean house," he declared with a dimpled grin, gesturing at his dusty uniform and muddy boots. "And ah really must be gettin' back, it isn't wise to leave the men on their own for too long. But thank you just the same."
Moses wasn't giving up just yet, even though he understood the wisdom of not leaving a bunch of green young soldiers to their own devices for any length of time. "Are your men close by, Captain Standish?"
"Ah have them camped about five miles from here," was the answer. "Given recent events in this area, ah thought it wise not to be too close to anyone's home."
"That was wise," Moses agreed. Then his eyes widened as a new thought struck him. "Wait a minute, you walked here from your camp?"
"No suh, ah rode," the young man corrected quickly, but a shadow passed across his face. "Most of the way, anyway. Mah horse misstepped himself some little distance from here and ah had to…well, ah had to put him down." His expression said it hadn't been easy for him; Moses could sympathize, being greatly attached to his own mount. "Ah hadn't a shovel with me to bury him, so if you happen to see any carrion birds circlin' in the next day or so that will most likely be their target. Ah hid mah saddle and gear in the bushes near where he fell, ah plan to collect it on mah way back."
"In that case," Moses said firmly, circling around the other man and clapping a hand on his dusty shoulder, "I must certainly insist that you at least come up to the house and refill your canteen before you begin your return journey, Captain. And while you're no doubt correct that my wife would be none to happy to have her floors muddied, she won't begrudge you a seat on the porch." He winked at the younger man. "After all, that's where she makes me sit when my boots are dirty."
Captain Standish laughed again and gave in gracefully, allowing the farmer to steer him up the packed road toward the house. "In that case, ah shall most gladly accept your offah, suh – and the chance to refill mah canteen would be much appreciated. But only a few minutes and then ah really must be on mah way."
"Understood." Moses was getting an idea; he really did not like the idea of the young officer walking five miles back to his men carrying his dead horse's saddle and tack, and from there having to buy whatever nag his paltry wages could procure on short notice – unlike the Northern soldiers, most of the Southern recruits owned their own mounts. Showing his guest to the well, Moses excused himself and went to tell his wife what was going on and to fetch Eli again.
When he came back the young captain had just finished drawing up a second bucket and was rinsing and filling his canteen with the cold water; the first bucketful had obviously been used to clean himself up, and without the masking layer of dust he was a handsome, well-featured young man, clean shaven and fair skinned. It looked like he had also beaten as much dust as he could off his gray coat in an effort to make himself as presentable as possible, and if Moses hadn't already been sure of his decision that gentlemanly gesture would have decided him. Seeing a young man like this gave him hope for the South, and hope these days was a precious commodity. "You just come on up on the porch and we'll sit a spell in the shade before you head back," the farmer told him, leading the way and indicating a comfortable seat before taking his own.
Susan Carver appeared on the porch a few moments later and the young captain immediately stood up and bowed to her when Moses introduced him. "A pleasure to meet you, Missus Carvah. Will the child be all right, do you think?"
"He is very weak but he should survive," she replied. "We greatly appreciate the care you must have given him, Captain Standish."
The young officer ducked his head. "We did our best, ma'am. We found a few cans of milk when we took the renegades' camp and got him to take some of it from the knotted end of a handkerchief. But ah wasn't able to get him to take much…"
"It was enough," she assured him. Her smile slipped a little. "His…his mother?"
"The details are not fit to speak of in the presence of a lady," Standish told her, and Moses saw the darkness cloud his green eyes again. "Mah men and ah got there too late to save her…but ah can assure you, ma'am, the animals responsible will nevah do it again."
Her eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. "Thank you, Captain – for everything. Now if you will excuse me, I must get back to the children. Do take care of yourself, sir."
"Thank you, ma'am. It was mah pleasure to be of service, ah only wish ah could have done more." He waited until she had gone back into the house before putting his hat back on. "Mah apologies, Mistah Carvah, but ah really must be headin' back if ah am to reach camp by nightfall."
"I understand." Moses stretched and got to his feet. "But I believe that won't be a problem, Captain. The way I see it, the least we could do for your trouble is to provide you with a ride back to your men."
Eli appeared around the corner of the house just then leading a handsome chestnut gelding with a white blaze face. The animal was already saddled and bridled and the young captain bit his lip. "Ah…thank you for the offah, suh, but ah cannot take your horse as ah have no way to return him to you."
"You won't be returnin' him, he's yours." Moses held up his hand to stop the younger man's protest. "No, Captain Standish, you listen to me. Libby was quite dear to my wife and I and her children are like our own blood; you can't know what it means to us to have George returned to the bosom of our family after thinkin' him dead along with his mother. Now I was given this fine piece of horseflesh by one of my neighbors as payment of a debt; he's of racin' stock and worth a good three hundred dollars for his bloodlines alone but he's unsuited for farm work and too high-strung to be a mount for my wife or any of the children. I think he would make a good horse for you, though, he's been trained to a treat and is not at all gun shy." The farmer took the lead rein from Eli and pressed it into the captain's hands with a smile. "I will not take no for an answer, young man. This horse is yours, a gift of gratitude from our family. His name is Orpheus."
"Orpheus?" A slight, amused smile quirked the captain's lips. He stepped forward and gently began to pet the animal's nose and after a moment the horse snorted softly and nudged him with its head. Standish chuckled, recognizing the gesture. "Ah'm sorry, mah friend, but mah pockets are empty at the moment. Ah shall rectify that oversight as soon as possible, ah assure you."
"He's just over two years old," Moses said, smiling; he'd been right about the young man's relationship with his horse, apparently. "The only bad habit he's got is not likin' to stay in the stable, but that's the racehorse in him, I think."
"Won't be a problem where we're goin'," the captain said softly, almost sadly. He patted the horse's forelock once more and then straightened. "Ah can't deny that ah need him, Mistah Carvah, or that ah'd love to have such a fine intelligent creature as this…"
"Then get on him and go," Moses insisted firmly. "I know you have a saddle already, but this one was custom made for him and my other horses are too broad across the withers to wear it. Now mount up, Captain! You need to get back to your men."
Captain Standish hesitated…and then the horse nudged him again before lifting it's head with a whicker and trying to bite his hat. He smiled a little sheepishly when Moses and Eli laughed and then held out his hand, sharing another firm handshake with the grinning farmer. "It wasn't necessary, suh, but thank you all the same. Ah promise to take the best care of him ah can."
"I'm sure you'll spoil him rotten," was Moses' reply. "Both of you take care, Captain, and I'll remember to alert the neighbors about the renegades that escaped."
"Our squad is to meet up with Colonel Anderson's forces in two days' time, ah shall alert him to the situation as well," the young officer promised. He shook hands with Eli as well and then swung himself up into the saddle and patted Orpheus' proudly arching neck. "Again, you have mah gratitude, Mistah Carvah, and ah hope young George recovers from his ordeal; in just the short time ah knew him ah found him to be a charmin', sweet-tempered child."
"That he is," Moses agreed proudly. "Best of luck, Captain Standish."
In answer the younger man saluted sharply before nudging his new mount into a brisk trot up the smooth-packed road. Moses and Eli watched until the horse and rider disappeared from view and then turned back toward the house. The faint complaining cry of a hungry baby drifted out to them and they smiled at each other. "Yep, Mistah Carvah, ah think baby George he's gonna be jus' fine," Eli said, shaking his head. "Hand of the Lord mus' be on dat child to get him saved like dat and brung back home safe an' sound."
"You may be right, Eli," Moses agreed thoughtfully, glancing back at the now empty road. "The Lord works in mysterious ways, that's for sure. Perhaps he has some special destiny planned for George Washington Carver . . . and maybe for Captain Ezra Standish, too."
The End
