Rebel Heart: (Swept Away) Of Life and Love during the American Civil War

"If you love someone. . ."

Chapter Eleven

While Daniel and Hank make their way home, we return to Jenny and her friend, Sarah. The party is on.

Jenny had long since cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and now was washing clothes this November day. She had on her coverall work apron which saved her clothes from getting wet and dirty, depending on what she was doing. Washing the family clothes was one of the tasks she hated to do because after a while the lye soap irritated her skin.

The day was sunny and breezy, and even though the temperature was probably only in the forties, she thought that given time things would dry. Finished with scrubbing the garments on the board, she already had transported them to the rinsing tub. There, after swirling them around, she wrung them out and went to hang them on the multiple clotheslines her Dad had erected near the kitchen door. As she was hanging them up, using clothespins, she heard the sound of a buggy and the front gate opening. Her father must have returned.

She was hoping to receive a letter from Daniel so went right back in to see him after hanging up the last of the clothes.

"Hi, Pa. How was your trip?"

"Well, I got what I needed and they took the peach preserves you made in trade for some of it. He laid his heavy armful of things on the table. They included soap, some ammunition, several huge pickles, coffee, suspenders, a lantern, and boots. "These boots are real comfortable," he said as he reached into his back pocket. "Here's a letter for you—from Daniel."

"Thank you, Daddy." She came to the table saying, "I'll put the kitchen things and the soap away."

"That's a good girl, Jenny. I'll get the rest later, but right now I'm just going to sit a spell and read the paper."

"I made some tea. You sit down and I'll bring you a cup."

Jenny was solicitous of her father. He had married a bit later in life and now she felt he was getting on in years. His hair was already mostly gray, and though he always worked a hard day on the farm, she knew it seemed to tire him out more lately. It was her wish that he would live to see and enjoy his grandchildren.

She turned away from him; he was already engrossed in reading his paper, and the thought of grandchildren suddenly made her think of Daniel. Of course, that wasn't very likely, knowing of his fondness for Samantha. Still, a girl could hope. She took the letter to her room. Toward evening, when she was done with her chores, she would savor every line he wrote to her. Her biggest hope was that he could get a furlough and come home. She so looked forward to seeing him.

Darkness came early this time of year, so she quickly made a light meal for her menfolk—her Pa, her brother, David, as well as for Marcus. David had since come in, wearing his brown cowhide winter coat with the liner inside. He took off his big brimmed brown hat, and noticeably limped to the sitting room, taking a chair to the side of her father. Jenny was secretly glad of his injury, the result of an accident with the tiller when he was young. Now, she wouldn't lose him to the Civil War. Her father and brother began talking about how they were going to try to trap the wily gray fox that one by one was killing the chickens.

"Supper's ready," she called out from the kitchen.

Jenny joined in their conversation a little, but not being all that hungry, soon left to go to her room, telling her pa she would come back later to clean up. Now she would have time to read Daniel's letter. She got it out of the top drawer and sat down on her bed.

My dear friend, Jenny,

Thank you for the warm socks you sent with your last letter. With the weather getting colder, they are helping to keep my feet warm.