The Soldier's Lady Read Online Free Page A

hurt.”
    As Henry and Papa helped him toward the house, they sensed his hesitation.
    â€œI know the war’s over,” he said, “but this is still the South not the North—whoever’s house it is or isn’t. I can’t . . . go in there.”
    Henry laughed. “I tol’ you dat dis was some kind ob unusha place. Why, son, dere ain’t no colors in dis here place—jes’ people dat care ’bout each other.”
    He glanced at the white man beside him, wondering if what he’d just heard was true.
    â€œHenry’s right, son,” said Papa. “We may look a little mixed up, but we’re a family like Katie said, and you’re welcome wherever any of the rest of us are.”
    They continued on toward the house. The young man glanced over at me and smiled in appreciation. It was such a pleasant smile, even in the midst of his pain and the newness of being surrounded by folks he didn’t know . . . it was almost like he already knew me, and knew that we were going to become much better acquainted soon.

R EUNION
    4

    T he black man who’d come with Henry was hurt worse than he realized. The wound on his right shoulder and chest and upper arm hadn’t healed like it should and was pretty badly infected. By the time we got him inside and seated, Uncle Ward was back from Mr. Thurston’s and everything had to be explained all over again.
    When they got his shirt and jacket off, Josepha took one look at his shoulder and exclaimed, “Dis boy’s hurt bad,” she said. “We gots ter git him ter bed! But he needs him a bath first,” she added, not one to keep from saying whatever she was thinking. “He don’ smell too good.”
    A few glances and smiles went around the room.
    â€œI think he needs something to eat too,” I said.
    â€œWard and Henry and I will take him out to the washtub outside and take care of the bath,” said my papa. “You ladies boil some water on the cook stove so we don’t have to take time to build a fire.”
    â€œYou scrub dat shoulder real good, Mister Templeton,” said Josepha, “an’ pour some whisky on dat wound.”
    â€œKathleen, why don’t you fetch us some clothes of your daddy’s or brother’s,” added Uncle Ward.
    â€œI’ll go down to the cabin,” I said, “and make a bed—where do you want to put him, Henry?”
    â€œI reckon on da couch dere in da corner ob da big room. I reckon dere’ll be room fo us all.”
    Within the hour, the poor man must have thought he had walked into a tornado of activity! Here he was being waited on hand and foot by two white men, a black man, a black lady, a white girl called Katie, who everyone acted like owned the place just like William had said, and another black girl—me. Henry had said a mouthful when he called Rosewood “a most unusha place!”
    By suppertime, every inch of his body was clean and he was wearing fresh new clothes, with Josepha fussing over the bandages and poultices she was trying to apply amidst the comings and goings of everyone in the house. Everyone had been so busy over him that it wasn’t till Josepha had the supper on the table that we all looked around and realized that dusk was falling and we still hadn’t seen anything of Emma and Jeremiah.
    We sat down and my papa prayed and we started to eat. We had just gotten started when the door opened and Jeremiah and Emma walked in. They were laughing and talking and still sweating like they’d been halfway across the county. Their faceswere aglow like they’d had the time of their lives.
    â€œWhere have you two been!” exclaimed Papa.
    â€œDose blamed cows ran us halfway ter Oakwood!” laughed Jeremiah. “Didn’t dey, Emma?”
    â€œDey’s ’bout da dumbest creatures under da sun, dat’s fo sure!” laughed Emma.
    â€œFinally we had ter git clean