The Long Journey Back

By Linda Penninga

The Civil War is over and the South is reeling from the loss and devastation of the war. Colleen and Steven must now travel from Virginia to their home in Georgia. The road is fraught with hardship and peril; from bear attacks and cave dwellers, to Unionists out for revenge.

Even after reaching home, their journey does not end. They are faced with the struggles of rebuilding their home, dealing with devastating losses, finding their place in a new South, and mending what the war has torn apart. It is a time of reconstruction, Black Codes, and the emergence of the Ku Klux Klan.

This is the story of the South and its people, rising from the ashes of war; the journey back from grief, death, and adversity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 11, 2007
• ISBN: 9781467860826

Linda Penninga

The Greatest Thing is Linda Penninga's fourth novel. Her previous books were historical fiction and this is her first foray using a first person account. She lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan and continues her journey in the world of creating the written word and being an active participant in the Peninsular Writing group who have been a great help in this endeavor.

Book preview

The Long Journey Back

by

Linda Penninga

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© 2009 Linda Penninga. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/20/2009

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4286-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-6082-6 (ebk)

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

APRIL 1865

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

JUNE 1865

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

Late June

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

JULY 1865

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

November 1865

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

April 1866

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JUNE 1866

August 1866

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

October 1866

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

APRIL 1865

The young couple was on their way home; back to Georgia, back to their families and back to the lives they had left behind. It had been a long, painful four years. Four years of war, of loss, grief, and devastation. It had been a long journey to get to this place, to war ravaged Virginia following Lee’s surrender to Grant at the Appomattox Court House. Neither of them had, as yet been able to reveal much about what had happened to them both during their time of separation. How did one begin to put into words the horror each had witnessed, the physical and emotional toll it had taken on them?

In 1861 Colleen had been a young innocent girl, just seventeen and the privileged daughter of a wealthy plantation owner. She had been so in love with Steven. All she could think about had been their upcoming wedding and being a wife to her beloved. When she thought of it now, she wondered how she could have been so naïve. How could she have been so shallow as to think only of herself and her own wants and desires? Everything had been about the social atmosphere and how often she could be with Steven. Then the South had seceded from the Union and war had come. Her world had turned upside down when Steven, his father Clifford, her father James and older brother Gerritt had gone off to fight. Now four years later, she could still remember how lonely she had felt, how helpless and frustrated she had been to remain at home while the men were doing something to maintain their way of life they so dearly had clung to.

It had not been an easy task to run the plantation with her mother during her father’s absence. It was a large, complicated operation and the overseer was a cruel task master who had beaten their slaves and stolen from them. But it had been the news of Steven’s wounding and imprisonment by the Yankees that had prompted the decision that had changed her life. She remembered being devastated by the news of Steven’s capture and on that fateful day in 1863, had cut off her hair and dressed in men’s clothing. Joining the army to find Steven had opened her eyes. Never could she have imagined the complete and utter terror she had felt fighting against those who were trying to kill her. Nor had she realized the horrible devastation that rifle ball and artillery could have on human flesh. The battles, and the men with whom she had fought, had changed her; how could they not? Many times she had wanted to quit, to run home to safety, but her love for Steven had kept her going. Now in 1865, a year and a half after she had left home, she was going back, with Steven by her side.

She didn’t know what she would find when they finally got there; her brother had been killed at Sharpesburg. She didn’t know what had happened to her father. Steven had last seen James alive at Gettysburg, but Steven had been wounded there and hadn’t seen her father again. The Yankees had marched through Georgia, burning and pillaging. They had devastated Atlanta and moved on to Savannah. She knew not what had happened to her home, her mother…..

They had been traveling for nearly two weeks with the borrowed wagon and tan colored mare named Molly they had acquired from their good friend Mr. Jeffries. Everywhere they went, they saw devastation and despair. So many people had lost everything: their homes, their land, personal belongings, and most importantly, the ones they held most dear. Many fields they passed were filled with craters, devastated by two armies battling to the death. Broken rifles, pieces of artillery shells, fragmented remnants of broken caissons still littered the ground. Homes, large and small burned, only their chimneys standing stark like lonely sentries among the ruins of people’s lives. They saw families living in crude shelters, lean-to’s or even in caves. They were dirty, poor, and thin, never knowing where their next meal would come from.

Many of the small towns through which they passed were burgeoning over with freed slaves. They seemed ebullient over their release from bondage, but were confused, wandering about, not knowing what their next step should be. Colleen and Steven wondered what had become of their own slaves. With over three hundred workers needed on each plantation, the productivity would be drastically affected with their release.

For now their main concern was to get home. What they would find there would have to be dealt with then. They were intent on their journey, for it was perilous at times. There were frequent fights and run-ins with the locals, so the couple chose to avoid the larger cities whenever possible. Recently they had passed near to the town of Goldsboro, the scene of the battle of Bentonville. But there were bandits and marauders on the road, along with angry bands of former Confederate soldiers, looking for anyone on whom to take out their revenge.

Colleen and Steven kept their rifles close by their sides, just as they had while serving in the war. They may have been southerners traveling in the south, but there were still many Yankee Bluecoats roaming about and even pockets of regiments still fighting on, not yet having received word that the war had ended.

They had begun traveling through difficult mountainous terrain with soaring peaks and deep valleys. The beauty was incredible, with undulating hills covered in thick forests, mountain streams, and abundant wildlife. But the remote roads could be dangerous, shielding bandits who didn’t care which side of the conflict their victims had been on.

Occasionally they would pass through small towns, villages really, with a smattering of shanties and cabins amongst the hills. Goats, chickens and pigs ran about the yards and up onto the porches while the occupants sat in chairs eyeing them suspsiously, shotguns laid across their laps, ready to defend what was theirs. Colleen and Steven passed by without a word and merely a nod in greeting.

They stopped beside a river surrounded with small wildflowers and tall grasses, tethering Molly nearby. They munched on hard biscuits and the remnants of the rabbit they had cooked earlier in the day.

Perhaps we should camp here for the night, Steven said as he looked through the trees at the darkening sky. He was sitting on a fallen tree, his arms resting on his knees. This appears to be a relatively safe spot.

Colleen looked into his face, a face she had known so well, the beautiful dark blue eyes, the straight nose and sensuous lips. She had dreamed of that face when he had gone off to war, longed to see it again. Now that she had finally found him again, she noticed the changes that had come over his handsome features. He was only twenty-three, but fine lines had etched themselves across his forehead and around his mouth. His dark hair was longer and now his eyes held a deep profound sadness that had never been there before. She knew from where that sadness had come. The war had devastated so many lives, even those who had survived. No one had gone away untouched.

Where are we sleeping tonight? she asked him. On this trip home they had slept out on the ground, rolled in blankets in the back of the small wagon, and even in a one room log house owned by a kind elderly couple who had lost their only son in the war. But it seemed like relative comfort compared to many places they had lain while fighting; in boggy wetland, snow filled ditches, and exhausted on blood soaked ground while cannon boomed nearby.

It doesn’t look like rain tonight. We should be safe here by the stream, he told her. "I’ll unhitch Molly and get a fire going and you can bring the blankets from the wagon.

I’ll unhitch Molly, she told him. I’m not helpless. And she smiled at him as he looked at her in wonder. She knew it would take him some getting use to this new woman.

He stood and began collecting pieces of dry wood for a fire. She saw how he limped, favoring his left leg. She recalled the story he had told her of being wounded by a shell at the battle of Gettysburg. The wound had been deep; the surgeon considered taking his leg, but Steven had persuaded him otherwise. Against the odds, his leg had healed, but it would never be the same. For the rest of his life he would carry the deep scar and walk with a limp. But he had been lucky. She had seen men with arms, legs, and even their heads ripped from their bodies by the deadly shells.

She got up from the ground, nearly tripping over her long skirts. It certainly was a lot easier getting around when I was dressed as a man, she said aloud. Perhaps I should wear trousers all the time.

Steven stopped in front of her, set the wood on the ground, and then touched her face. I like you just fine looking the way you are. He kissed her lips and ran his hands over her relatively short hair. It still amazed him when he thought about his beautiful wife fighting the Yankees in that horrible war. She was so much stronger than he had ever imagined. How had she been able to do it? How had she fooled everyone into believing she was a man? And most of all, how had she endured the horrific fighting? Not many women he knew could have done that.

Believe me my love, when I am with you I am very happy to be a woman, she said kissing him back.

Soon the horse had been unhitched and Steven had a small fire burning, the yellow and blue flames licking around the wood, snapping and crackling, sending shards of sparks into the night sky. He had chosen pieces as dry as possible to avoid too much smoke. The stars were beginning to come out as the darkness enveloped them. They sat huddled together in a blanket, Steven’s arms surrounding her. At first they remained silent, listening to the songs of the crickets and peeper frogs, and the river gurgling in its pursuit downstream.

How did you do it? he finally asked. He had avoided asking her specific questions until now, knowing full well the pain those memories invoked. While still at the Jeffries she had told him some of her experiences in trying to find him, including what happened after she had left the fighting. How were you able to fight and kill, you my spoiled, excuse me, pampered belle, who had never even killed a rabbit before?

She shook her head. I don’t know for certain. At first it was the thought of finding you, she said quietly. It consumed me, wanting to find you, to bring you home. I could no longer think about planting, candle making or how the wash would get done. All I could think about was finding you, and not wanting to wait until the war was over to see if you had survived. I soon realized it wouldn’t be nearly as easy as I thought it might. I don’t know what I had imagined it would be like, following the army around from camp to camp, searching out hospitals and prisons….. Reality was far worse; the killing, the horror. I remember being so terrified. At first I was paralyzed and I thought I would lose my mind. She stopped and took his hand in both of hers, caressing the backs where the skin was smoother. The palms had grown calloused and hard from four years of fighting and living out of doors.

Steven nodded, himself remembering that terror, a terror that never really left, it only became a part of you, in a place somewhere in the back of one’s mind. If it threatened to come to the forefront, it would be pushed back, for if it overwhelmed, it would drive one mad.

Why didn’t you go home then? he asked her.

At first I wanted to, very badly, just to reveal myself, to run home, she answered, but then it became something more. I don’t know exactly how to describe it. It was a bond, a loyalty I formed with the men I fought with. To leave them, to desert seemed disloyal, unpatriotic, and so I continued to do battle with my comrades, side by side, elbow to elbow….you know? she said looking up into his eyes.

"I do. I became very close to some of the men I fought with, but I have to admit, it makes me a bit jealous thinking of you sharing those experiences with those men; sleeping side by side, sharing meals, looking out for one another during battle.

Do you remember the picnic where Gerritt and I raced our horses? You were flirting with Robert and Andrew to make me jealous then."

She laughed at the memory.

It worked, he told her. I couldn’t stand seeing you with them. I wanted you all to myself. And here you spent over a year in the company of all those men.

Yes, but don’t you see, they all thought I was another man, she said looking away again. She didn’t mention the one man, a very handsome man, who had discovered her identity. So you see, there’s no reason to be jealous. She ended with a smile to reassure him.

It’s not the jealously of another man for his woman, Steven explained, but for the shared experiences. You and I both were apart for four long years and even though we were both in this deadly conflict, we had experiences the other did not share. Those things are here, he said touching her chest, memories I can never be a part of.

You have those memories apart from me as well, she said gently, but we are young and from now on we will share our memories together.

He held her tightly and kissed her cheek and then as she turned her face, he tasted her lips. He laid her back onto the ground, his body over hers. Do you know how beautiful you are? he asked looking down into her green eyes. Do you know how much I love you?

She touched his face, the face she had dreamed of so often. As much as I love you, she replied.

I don’t think I could bear it if I had lost you too, he said, his voice ragged with emotion. It was so difficult when my father was killed and…and I can’t even describe the heartache when Gerritt died in my arms, like my comrades and so many others. But if I had lost you, I would rather I had died on that battlefield in Gettysburg.

Shh, she told him, touching her fingers to his lips. Don’t even think of such things. I am here, alive, and so are you. Let’s just celebrate that.

His mouth covered hers and she could feel him trembling. His hand moved up under her skirts and caressed her thigh. Her body trembled and she moaned softly. Soon he was making love to her, reveling in life.

Sleep came heavily upon them, the fog creeping in stealthily like a shroud, surrounding everything with a quiet whisper.

Colleen wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but suddenly she felt as if there was a presence around them. Her eyes popped open and her heart was racing. Steven still slept next to her, his breathing slow and rhythmic. Then what had awakened her? She strained to hear any unusual sound; the rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig. She could only hear the morning sounds of the birds, the gurgling of the stream. Then why did she feel the gooseflesh standing out on her skin? Slowly she reached her hand out from under the blanket to grab her rifle she kept next to her. It was gone.

Then she saw them; dark, ghostly forms emerging from the fog. She sat up quickly, a cry escaping her lips. Steven bolted upright, grabbing for his own rifle, but it too was gone.

The men, for that is what they appeared to be, were dressed all in black: black clothing, black hats and long black coats. Their faces were obscured by the mist which spiraled about them as if something alive. Colleen could see at least eight of them, but knew there could be others.

Steven had gotten to his feet, trying to shield her from the men, but they had surrounded them and there was no place to hide. Who are you and what do you want? Steven asked boldly. We carry no valuables.

No one answered, but one man, tall and heavy in body, stepped forward close enough for them to see his face. His eyes were dark beneath the wide brimmed hat; his nose broad and his chin covered with a bushy beard. His eyes narrowed as if he were scrutinizing them.

Sir, Steven began again, state your intent. We mean no harm. Please give us our weapons so that we might travel home in safety.

Who you be? the man said finally in a gruff voice.

Steven weighed his answer carefully. He knew the wrong one could mean their death. To tell them they were Confederate patriots would be advantageous if they too were loyal southerners. However, if they were Unionists and loyal to the Federals, they could make for dangerous foes.

We are patriots, weary of fightin’ and on our way home, Steven finally answered.

You be a soldier? the man asked.

Yes sir, fought since ’61.

You Federal or Reb? the man asked, his voice inflections not betraying his own loyalties.

It had come down to it now. Steven decided the truth would be the best path to attempt. We are Southerners, fought for the Confederacy.

At first their answer was met with silence. It hung in the air like a guillotine. Then there were soft murmurs from the others.

Colleen could feel her heart pounding madly in her chest. She hadn’t felt such fear since she had faced Yankees on the battlefield. At least then she had had a weapon to level the playing field. She clung to Steven’s arm and could feel the tension in his muscle and knew he too, was frightened.

The large man suddenly came forward, causing Colleen and Steven to step back. His hand protruded from his long coat sleeve, offering it for Steven to shake. I’ll not be harmin’ a fellow Reb, he told them in his gruff voice.

Steven took the proffered hand, feeling the roughness, the calluses. The man’s hand was large, nearly engulfing Steven’s in his strong grasp. A tremendous wave of relief flooded over him, but he was cautious, nonetheless. He still didn’t know what these men’s motives were and their weapons had not been returned to them.

What be yer name and where’d you fight? the man asked.

I’m Steven Covington and this is my wife, Colleen. I fought under Jackson, Cobb and Lee in the great Army of Virginia. We’re on our way back to our home in Georgia.

There were more murmurs from some of the other men. I’m Eli Jackson from North Carolina. I fought with Bragg in Tennessee. Truth be known, we’re still fightin’ them damn Yankees whenever we finds ‘em. That’s why we snuck up on ya the way we did; never know when yer goin’ to find a Yank."

Well, as you can see, we’re loyal Confederates, spent time fightin’ and now all we want to do is get home. We’d be mighty obliged if you’d return our weapons, Steven told the big man. He was feeling an increasing urgency to move on and be far away from these men.

Afraid we can’t do that just yet, Eli told them.

Why not? Colleen asked, speaking up for the first time. We need our rifles for hunting and protection.

Fer one thing, if you’d be noticin’ them clouds, you’d see a powerful storm is movin’ on in. The large man inclined his head towards the south.

Once the words had left his mouth, both Steven and Colleen saw the large, dark bulbous clouds, churning and rolling over the tops of the mountains. Lightning could be seen illuminating the interior of the dark mass and faint thunder could be heard echoing off the rocks.

All the more reason to be on our way, Steven told the man glancing over at their horse. He saw that one of their numbers had hold of the bridle and another was attempting to hitch her up to the wagon.

Please sir, he pleaded, don’t take our horse. We need her to get home.

Eli shook his head. We won’t be takin’ yer horse, but we are takin’ you all. If you’ve not experienced a mountain storm afore, yer in danger. These rivers and streams fill fast, floodin’ the roads and washin’ out ever’thin’ in their path.

I’m sure we’ll be alright, Colleen tried reassuredly. Just give us our property and we’ll leave directly.

The large man shook his head again. If you don’t know the terrain, you’ll die and I can’t have yer blood on my hands. No, you’ll come with us to our camp until the storm passes. You can be on your way after that.

I appreciate your concern, sir, Steven protested again, and we take full responsibility for our own welfare, but we’d rather strike out on our own. He was still wary of what this group of men’s motives might be and the last thing he wanted was to go off somewhere unknown with these strangers.

’Fraid you got no choice, he told them. We got yer horse and yer guns. Iffen you want ‘em back, you’ll have ta go with us.

Colleen looked up into Steven’s eyes and saw the fear and concern there and knew they mirrored her own.

Eli pursed his lips and gave a piercing whistle. The sound echoed off the walls of rock surrounding them and out of the fog, three more men emerged holding the reins of several horses. The dark clothed men mounted while Eli escorted the couple to the waiting wagon.

Git up on there, and Roy here will be leadin’ the horse, he said pointing to a young man in his teens. He was skinny, his eyes darting quickly, the long coat he wore seemed to engulf him.

That won’t be necessary, Steven said helping Colleen up onto the rough wooden seat. "I’m perfectly capable of driving my own horse.

The large man mounted his horse before answering, looking up from under his broad brimmed hat. Sorry, we’ll be ridin’ fast and you don’t know where we’re all goin’. You could get lost or worse, overpowered by the storm. He pulled on the reins, turning his horse to lead the group.

With the young man leading their horse there was nothing Colleen and Steven could do but hang on. Steven wrapped a blanket around Colleen as the wind began to blow stronger.

The group of men headed out. Steven could see there were fifteen of them, leading their horse and wagon with them. They crossed the river and went out onto the main road, but instead of heading away from the storm, they were riding straight toward it and the mountains.

Steven and Colleen looked at each other apprehensively. Where were they really being taken? Eli had told them they were going to safety from the storm, but now, they were headed in the wrong direction.

The flashes of lightning were brighter now as the angry black clouds churned and rolled above them. The sky was so dark, it seemed as if night, with the men becoming ghostly apparitions, their long coats flowing out behind them.

Suddenly the sky opened up and the rain descended upon them in large, great drops. The men kicked their horses’ sides and began to run them, with the small wagon bouncing dangerously over the rough road. Steven and Colleen had all they could do to hang on as they headed toward the unknown. Had they both survived the horrors of war, only to die at the hands of these marauders?

Colleen’s heart raced as she thought about her home. She had so longed to be there again, to set eyes on her beloved Shannon, and to see her mother and father if they indeed had survived the war.

The darkness was so encompassing that they could not see where they were headed until a flash of light illuminated the mountains ahead of them. The driving rain quickly flooded the ravines and gulleys, washing debris down into the river, but still the deluge continued. The lightning struck trees nearby, causing Colleen to cry out. She felt as she had while under attack by the Yankees.

"Where are they taking us?’ she yelled through the storm.

Steven held her tightly and shook his head. Don’t be afraid, my love. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together. But Colleen knew by the way he gripped her arm that he was frightened as well.

The riders suddenly veered off the main road onto a trail leading into the trees at the base of the mountain. The small wagon barely fit along the narrow path, but the men never slowed their pace. Tree branches whipped past them, some striking their faces and arms. The closer they came to the mountains, the louder the sounds of the rushing river. Soon the path was filled with water, the horses slowing as they waded through.

Steven and Colleen could see the water rushing past as high as the hub of the wheels, causing the horse to strain harder to pull the wagon through the rushing torrent. Colleen felt truly afraid now. She clung desperately to Steven, fearing they would be swept away.

Suddenly, the trail began to rise, climbing up out of the rushing water. The path was rocky, the wagon lurching over large stones and rocks. The trees began to thin, giving way to a steep stony incline. Colleen and Steven realized they were on their way along a remote trail up the side of the mountain. The further they climbed, the further away they were from the water. The trail, however, grew narrower, the wheels of their wagon threatening to fall off the edge. To the left of them, the mountain rose high above and to the right, a precipitous drop of tangled boulders and trees.

Steven couldn’t imagine where these men might be taking them. They seemed to be climbing higher up the mountain. They were following a definite path, but was it only to get above the water? For what purpose had these men brought them along on this mad dash for their lives? He only wished he still had his rifle, and then perhaps he could have forced the men to let them go.

The rain continued to pelt them unmercifully and they were now thoroughly soaked to the skin, the water running over them as if they had stepped under a waterfall.

The men had slowed their horses to a walk, each man following in single file, the trail seemingly more narrow and treacherous. It was difficult to see where they were going, but the men kept leading them on.

Without warning the right wheel of the wagon suddenly tottered and then fell off the edge, throwing Colleen and Steven nearly over the precipice. Colleen screamed, but managed to hold on to Steven who had grabbed the brake handle, keeping them from being vaulted off the seat. Colleen hung on to Steven and the seat for dear life. The wood under her hands was slippery and jagged. She cried out for help fearing she would be dashed to her death on the rocks below.

Several of the men dismounted quickly, some of them grabbing the horse that had begun to panic and rear, while others pulled them to safety. The wagon was righted and put back on the trail while the young man who had been leading Molly, calmed her down. He knew if the wagon had gone over, the horse would surely have gone over as well.

Once Colleen was standing back on the trail, she began to tremble uncontrollably. Her arms and face were scratched and stinging and now her heart was pounding madly from nearly being dashed to her death on the rocks below. Steven grabbed her and held her tightly. She could feel that he too, was trembling and that he was afraid for them both.

Steven, where are they taking us? she cried. They are going to kill us!

Don’t worry, my love. I will get us out of this somehow. But Colleen knew he was only being brave, trying to protect and calm her in a situation where they were totally out of control.

Eli appeared in front of them, the rain running off his hat in rivulets, his hair and beard saturated. His face appeared sinister in the flash of lightening. Stay on the trail, he hollered, over the subsequent thunder clap. We’re nearly there!

Where?! Steven yelled back. Where are you taking us? I demand to know!

Eli turned and stretched out his arm, pointing to a place higher up the mountain. Steven and Colleen both looked up at the dark mass of the looming mountain, the rain pelting their faces. At first they saw nothing and then, there it was; a glow, a yellow light shining through the darkness. But what was it? It appeared to be fairly large. What could cause such brightness in this grippingly hostile place? What would cause that glow halfway up the side of the mountain?

The men had remounted their horses, continuing up the trail, but this time Steven and Colleen walked behind the wagon rather than risk falling off the edge again. The rain battered down, making the footing on the slippery rocks treacherous. Even the horsemen were slowing their pace, now that they had risen above the rushing water from below.

As they neared the yellow light, it gradually grew larger. It wasn’t long before Colleen and Steven could see a large opening in the side of the mountain and it was from there the brightness emanated. Soon they reached it, and they saw it was indeed a gaping hole, a cave hollowed out of the solid rock. The entrance was large enough to accommodate several riders side by side and over fifty feet in height. As they entered, Colleen and Steven discovered the light came from dozens of fires scattered throughout the interior and one large fire near the entrance. As their eyes adjusted to the change from the blackness outside, they could see it was indeed, a very large voluminous cavern. There were groups of men, women and children gathered around the numerous fires; their faces peering at them from the shadows. Off to one side, they saw many horses tethered and peaceably munching on hay. Nearby were wagons and buckboards. Behind the area where the horses were kept, was a series of wooden structures that housed chickens. Near the back of the cave was a huge pile of cut and split logs, ostensibly for all the fires. The smells that assailed them were of wood smoke, manure, wet horseflesh, and cooking odors. This was clearly home to many people, a village of sorts.

Several of the inhabitants rushed to greet the returning men, hugging and kissing them; as the men lifted small children into their arms.

Steven and Colleen looked at each other in amazement. Their captors no longer seemed so sinister. They had apparently brought them to their home. But what place was this? How had these people come to be here?

Young boys had taken their horse and buggy and had begun to unhitch Molly and rub the rain water from her coat, along with the horses of the other men.

An older woman brought warm dry blankets and wrapped them around their shoulders. Take this, she said, ya’ll must be very cold. Please come to the fire and dry yerselves.

They allowed themselves to be led to the blazing warmth, stunned at what they had just been through and what they were now witnessing. Scattered about the enormous interior were groupings of people, families with a central hearth. Around each fire were sleeping beds, cooking utensils and personal belongs. Women sat sewing or cooking, or attending to babies. Men were mending harnesses or talking in groups while children ran about playing games.

As they stood in front of the flickering flames, Eli walked over to them, shedding his long overcoat and hat. He was still an imposing figure, but now not nearly as sinister. A young woman with two small children joined him. He lifted the young boy up into his arms.

This be my family, he told them, my wife and children and my mother, nodding toward the older woman who had given them the blankets.

What is all of this? Steven asked him, sweeping his arm around the perimeter. Who are these people and why did you bring us here?

Eli looked around at the small groups, his left arm holding his son while his right encircled the waist of his wife. A smile crossed his face. This here’s loyal Confederates, remnants of the cause. The smile faded and he continued. We all lost our homes durin’ the war, either burnt by Federals or marauders, left to fend for ourselves, lost souls havin’ no place to go, subject to starvation, and cold. We began gatherin’ together, helpin’ each other out. The men here fought proudly, some wounded, some of the women lost husbands, or sons. ‘Stead of wanderin’ the countryside, we all banded together, protectin’ each other, sharin’ whatever we got. ‘Bout eight months ago winter was comin’ on, the war was drawin’ to a close. We found this here cave and been livin’ in it ever since. It suits us; gives us shelter and we can remain together.

How do you get supplies? Steven asked him, noticing large supplies of split wood, racks of drying meat and pyramids of rifles.

We brings up what we kin with the wagons, Eli told him, the wood, and supplies. We steals some too, for staples, rifles, horses, whatever we needs. Confederate money ain’t no good no more.

So you all are marauders, too, Steven said a little icily. Colleen jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, not wanting to offend for fear of retribution. After all, they still didn’t know why they had been brought to this camp. Why would they risk bringing outsiders here who might endanger their security?

Eli’s eyes narrowed. Call us what you will, we jes done what we needs to. We ain’t like them damn Yankees. They’se goin’ around stealin’, thievin’ jes for the spoils, jes to take someone’s cherished possessions. We ain’t burnin’ houses and barns and such. We jes takes what we needs to get by. If you wuz in the war, you know what that might be like.

Steven remembered all too well the times he had been so hungry it hadn’t mattered where the food might come from. He had helped himself to fruit from farmer’s fields, corn from storage bins, and even hot bread from some poor woman’s kitchen. He still retained images of hundreds of men lying dead on the battlefield, while he and others went about gathering up extra ammunition, guns, supplies, even clothing and shoes from those who no longer lived. He looked again into the grizzled face of Eli, at the men, women and children around this cave, and knew he was right; he had, they all had, only done what they needed to do.

I’m sorry, you’re right. I have done the same and would do it again to protect my own.

The smile returned to Eli’s face. "This here’s my wife Sally and my children, Zack and Elise and my mother, Norah. Young’uns, this is Colleen and Steven.

Colleen nodded to Sally and smiled at the children, but she was shivering so violently her teeth chattered and her face and arms stung from the raking scratches she had received.

Eli, look how cold and soaking wet they is, Sally suddenly spoke. She was a robust woman, large like her husband with a ruddy smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. She had long copper colored hair that shone with gold highlights in the firelight. She may not have been a beautiful woman, but Sally had the most amazingly blue eyes Colleen had ever seen. They seemed to sparkle when she smiled.

Come with me, my dear, Sally said to her, leaving her husband’s side to put her arm around Colleen’s shoulder. Let’s see if we can find you some dry clothes. And Eli, you see iffen you can find Steven somethin’ to wear, she said turning back to the large man.

Sally took Colleen around to the different family groups, introducing her and acquiring different pieces of clothing from individuals approximately the same size as Colleen. She was amazed at how friendly everyone was. They comprised unusual family groups; some with husband, wife and children, others widowed, with just a woman and her children. Several of the men had been wounded, some missing limbs or carrying deep scars, and still they persevered, reaching out to others in need.

When they had finally acquired enough to replace Colleen’s wet clothing, Sally took her to a small area that had been partitioned off with ropes and blankets, creating a secluded dressing room of sorts. Colleen went behind the blanket screen and began to pull off the wet garments.

Throw them wet things out here, Sally instructed her from the other side, and don’t forget yer under things; ain’t no call to be embarrassed.

Colleen wondered what Sally would have thought if she knew she had lived with a company of men for over a year, and how many times she had been so wet and cold her bones had ached from shivering. Now as she removed her clothing, the cool air of the cavern blew across her damp skin, causing a chill to raise the hairs on her body. She quickly put on the undergarments and simple dress she had received, feeling their warmth spreading over her body. It seemed, right at this moment, to be better than the finest silks she had worn to the fancy balls on her plantation. And even though the undergarments and dress were simple homespun cotton, they felt wonderfully warm against her cold skin.

Best take off them shoes, too, Sally said as she gathered the wet clothes into her arms. You can go barefooted until they’se dry. Just mind the small stones.

When she came out from behind the screen, Sally smiled, showing the sparkle in her eyes. You look right nice, she told her, not so much like a drowned rat.

Colleen smiled back at her, running her fingers through her still damp hair. Sally’s long beautiful hair made her more conspicuous of her own cropped locks. As they walked backed to Sally’s family hearth, Colleen noticed how smooth the floor of the cave was on her bare feet and made mention of it to Sally.

It’s ‘cause this here cave was hallowed out by water, hundreds and hundreds of years ago, wearin’ off the sharp edges until it got to be smooth as a baby’s bottom. Then the water drained away, leavin’ this here cave. I knowned all that ‘cause we’ve got us a genuine university teacher livin’ here with us and he explained everything.

That’s very interesting, Colleen told her, thinking all the while how much the war had touched everyone; no one was immune to its ravages.

When they joined the rest of Sally’s family, Colleen saw that Steven too, had been given dry clothing to wear; a pair of homespun pants and a checkered shirt. His feet too, were bare. Colleen smiled at his appearance, not ever having seen Steven in anything but expensively fine clothes and his Confederate uniform. She knew from what he had told her about the prison camp he had been in, and how his clothing there had been in tatters and his boots worn through the soles. After his escape and he had found his way to the Jeffries, he had been given new clothing and boots. She thought the plain clothes made him look more vulnerable. His wet things were hanging over a rack made from two forked sticks with a cross piece between them. Hers were added to his close to the fire to dry. Next to Steven’s boots near the hearth, Sally placed Colleen’s leather shoes.

Upon the fire, hung over a tripod, an iron pot bubbled with an enticing aroma and Colleen remembered she had not eaten all day. Her stomach growled and her mouth salivated in response to the delicious smell. Eli and Sally invited them to sit and partake of their meal. It was then that they realized several wooden chairs and stools were arranged around one side of the hearth, while on the other were beds, pallets and a large trunk, presumably to hold their clothing. On the side where the chairs were kept was a myriad supply of

Reviews for The Long Journey Back

[kaylol · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Can't say I liked the book.