T. Novan - Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

"Miss Rebecca, I have done something without your permission. However, with all of the strains that my troops and I are placing on you, I feel its only fair to provide you with some help to manage the house –– other than my troopers. So I have hired some staff for you. If you do not like them, or do not find them acceptable, I will be more than happy to find others that are more suitable."

"Thank you, Colonel, it is very considerate of you, but I am afraid I cannot afford servants at this time."

"Oh, no, Miss Rebecca, I did not mean to place this cost on you. These folks are for my convenience, to ease the burden I have placed on you. I will attend to their needs; they are coming to attend to yours. Please say you will accept them."

Rebecca flushed. The financial constraints that prevented her from hiring any help were magically gone because of this man, and there was hope for her future after the war. How much did she owe him? How much could she repay him and with what?

The storm that had been threatening all afternoon broke just as they returned to the Manor. Cold rain and a driving wind hit hard. Charlie left her to rejoin his men and manage efforts to meet this sudden storm with minimal damage. She went to her room and changed into her daily work clothes, thinking that with this storm, Charlie would need a warm, hearty meal. Within a matter of minutes, a young trooper appeared at the kitchen door. "Colonel asked me to tell you that he doubts he will be available for dinner, Ma’am. The men need him now."

So, instead of creating the lovely pileau she wanted for Charlie, Rebecca put a pot of soup on to cook. When he finally did manage to make it to shelter, he would need it.

Chapter 7

Monday, November 14, 1864

Charlie had returned Rebecca to the main house, escorting her to the door, and then hurried off to the camp. He had hoped the weather would hold for a few more days; he had not been so lucky. The rain pounded down and the wind howled out of the northeast, ripping at the canvas of the tents that had not yet been reinforced for the winter. Anything that was not securely tied down was either snapping in the near gale force wind or had disappeared already.

He turned Shannon and the little trap over to one of Tarent’s troopers, and stomped into the officer’s mess that also served as the situation room for his senior staff. Polk was there, along with Jocko and Major Swallow of Company A. The rain that had hit like a sledgehammer had soaked all four men as they gathered to coordinate activities.

"A quick run down gentlemen. Swallow, how are we doing with getting the injured and sick into the stone barn?"

"Colonel, we had not completed preparing the space, but I have men working already in transporting the wounded and sick in the infirmary tent over to the barn. We have rigged a sort of enclosed sledge to take them one at a time, bed and all, over there. I also have men stationed around the infirmary tent to make sure it does not blow down."

"All right, Swallow. I assume you need something or you would not be here. What is it?"

"Well, sir, if we could have a couple of the mules, I think we will be able to go forward more quickly."

"You really think that you could get mules to cooperate in this weather?"

"Well, sir, we could try."

"Jocko, get MacFarlane and see what you two can do to help with this. And, Swallow? Do not sacrifice what works for this scheme. Use another carrier with the mules. I do not want a bolting mule to destroy the sledge you are using now."

Swallow nodded his agreement and hurried out.

"Aye, Colonel C. I brought you your mucking clothes. Figured you would be here."

"Thanks, Jocko."

Jocko followed Swallow out of the tent. The Colonel had always made it clear that the most important issue was the welfare of the men. They were on the front line of that command.

Turning to Polk, Charlie addressed the next most pressing issues, the condition of the horses and the supplies.

"Well, Polk, how bad is it likely to be?"

"Sir, Tarent and some of the boys from Company D have gotten the injured animals into the old stables. Company B is out trying to make sure that the horses in the paddocks and fields are all sheltered and that there are no fence breaks."

"Well, that is a relief. Small blessings that this place is already designed for horses. Did Hoffstader’s boys manage to finish walking the fence perimeters before the storm broke?"

"I honestly do not know. They were out in the field all day and Hoffstader was with them. They have not yet reported."

"Have you sent anyone out to check on Hoffstader and give him a hand if he needs it?"

"Not yet."

"We will get to that as soon as we can, then. How are the men’s quarters fairing? Anybody on battening down the tents?"

"Major Andrews commandeered Company F and H, as well as his own boys, to try and secure the troops quarters. He is looking pretty harried."

"Good man, Andrews. What about the supplies? Did you get the new shipment under safe cover?"

"Mostly. Jamison and his boys have the worst job. If those beans, the rice, or the salt pork get wet, we will have a real problem. I have put all of the rest of the men available on getting the supplies stowed in the various buildings around the farm, and trying to protect whatever is left that they cannot stow."

"Well, lets split our efforts, my friend. You want the infirmary or the mess tents?"

"Take the infirmary, Colonel. Some of the original boys from the 13th still do not know you. It will help. Anyway, I am used to heaving sacks of supplies –– its what I do every time I go back to headquarters to harangue the quartermaster’s boys."

Polk hurried out, and Charlie tied off the tent flap, to gain a few minutes of quick privacy to change. He pulled on the heavy woolen britches and tunic, belting them tightly to at least somewhat protect himself from the wind and rain. He traded his plumed hat for a beat up old forage cap and set out to help move the wounded men to shelter.

The afternoon merged into a night of cold rain and high winds. Once the injured men were settled, Charlie set out to check on the horses. Two had broken through an old, rotten section of fence, trying to find shelter from the wind in the stand of trees on the other side. Working with Hoffstader’s men, Charlie helped to calm the injured beasts. Tarent did the best he could for the animals, with Charlie’s assistance, but for much of those four miserable, cold wet hours, Charlie could be heard cursing under his breath about the loss of the veterinary surgeon.

The next near disaster could have been much worse. The regiment had not been on location long enough to establish a pattern of drainage ditches. The mess area was inundated with a constant wash of muddy water across the floor, first under the tents’ ground cloths and then over the top. Anything on or near the floor was in danger of being soaked. The men worked desperately to get the sacks of beans and rice, flour and oats up above the water. In the end, the only casualties were one sack of flour and a number of pairs of boots. The uncured leather that had been used to make them had started to shrink as soon as they got wet.

The night went on with similar problems cropping up. One row of tents was flattened when the first one was caught by the ripping wind and took the rest of the tents around it down in an ugly domino effect of tent pegs and poles, guy ropes and ripped canvas.

At Charlie’s orders, Jamison took over the summer kitchen, providing a secure place where fires could be lit and maintained. Through the night, the cooks kept kettles of soup and cauldrons of coffee going, to give the men something warm to keep them going through the bitter night.