Forever Friends: The Journey of Two Families from Civil War Virginia to Montana Territory, 1860–1868

By Lenore McKelvey Puhek

Amelia's world shatters on her 18th birthday. Her fiance marches off to fight as a confederate soldier for Virginia in the Civil War. Amelia believes Jeremiah is dead. Year pass. They both create new lives. Jeremiah deserts and eventually marries, moving his family by steamboat up the Missouri River to Montana Territory.

Amelia enters the no-women-allowed world of medical school. She graduates as a physician and marries. A deranged patient kills her husband. Filled with grief, Amelia, her sister and a maid, move west. However fate again enters and Amelia finds herself staring into the face of the man she once loved. Will commitments to their new lives be stronger than true love?

Forever Friends acquaints you with Amelia, Josie, Sarah Marie, Beulah and Mrs. Mutchnik. Amelia has lost love and must grieve; Beulah fights for her freedom; Josie wants her identity back; Sarah Marie finds more to life than what is in the pages of books, and Mrs. Mutchnik? Well...

Lenore McKelvey Puhek has completed three novels writing about pioneer women. "You have taken American history and made it intimate and personal. The individuals come alive, and their strengths and weaknesses are revealed with each page. You make us care about them. We feel both the boredom and the horror of war, the intense heartbreak of first love gone wrong. The satisfaction is of the good turn of events as they take risks and grab at opportunities to bring value to their lives, to live them fully...and to serve others in the process. This is a sacramental story of the everyday sacredness of life. Awesome reading...once I started I could not stop until I reached the end. You are a true storyteller. You have a special gift of "inflection" and character traits...this is so difficult yet you make it look easy."
Mary A. Bell, Marketing and Public Relations Coordinator, Helena, MT.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462041404

Lenore McKelvey Puhek

Lenore McKelvey Puhek holds a BA in English/Writing from Carroll College, Helena, MT. This is her sixth book in the series of historical fiction based on women who deserve to be recognized for their contributions towards the Western Movement.

Book preview

Contents

Dedication

Introduction

Prologue

June 30, 2011

Helena, Montana

1

The Birthday Party

2

Jeremiah

3

Future Plans

4

Jeremiah Leaves Home

Summer Work For Amelia

6

Jeremiah—Army Life

Amelia Enrolls into Medical School

8

A Soldier Rescues Jeremiah

9

Amelia Leaves Home

10

Jeremiah Returns to the Farm

Amelia Meets Her Brother

12

Decision To Leave

13

Amelia in Boston

On Her Own

15

Soldiers Come to the Farm

16

Amelia in class

School for Beulah

18

Winter

19

Sarah Marie Roberts

20

Two Doctors Meet

21

Beulah’s Letter

A Tutor for Amelia

Courting Miss Amelia

24

The Dinner

25

Jeremiah Says Goodbye

26

Who is Joseph?

27

Fresh Fish Supper

28

The Flood

29

The Proposal

30

Amelia Writes Home

Amelia Returns to Front Royal

Amelia Announces Her Engagement

33

At Last! St. Louis

34

Jeremiah and Josie Wed

35

Dinner at the Boarding House

36

Job Hunting

37

Civil War Photography

38

A Letter to Frank

39

Christmas is Coming

40

Christmas in St. Louis

Amelia’s Future

42

Spring in St. Louis

43

Missouri River Trip

44

Together Again

45

Amelia in Benton’s Fort

46

Montana Home Sweet Home

The Fiske Boarding House

48

News from Ma Hicks

Fire! Fire!

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Biography

Research Sources

Dedication

Well-behaved women rarely make history."

Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Forever Friends

Dedicated to all of the unsung heroines . . .

WOMEN

who pioneered in the men only fields of

medicine, business, education, war, travel . . .

and

the unique women

homesteaders on the Western Frontier

who struggled and survived to expand

the American continent . . .

thus

creating the dream

of a better world

for women

past, present and future.

Introduction

When I write about pioneer women, I try to picture what they saw, dreamed and yes, even despaired. I enjoy looking at old photographs of the early day communities to compare them to present day views. Hard work and vision created those changes.

Today, I see giant trees and vibrant green parks, homes, church steeples and schools, mansions and businesses, where once upon a time, not really so long ago, only sagebrush and rattlesnakes greeted the wagon trains as they pulled into this awesome valley called the Prickly Pear.

Seated in many of those wagons were pioneering women, dedicated to their hard won professions as doctors, surgeons, lawyers, teachers, politicians, nurses, wives, store owners, miners, freight business operators, and other activities too numerous to mention. All came with a wondering, curious spirit for adventure and reform and change. Most came wanting to make things better for sisterhood everywhere.

In the face of extreme prejudices, women served jail sentences, physical abuse, mental anguish, abandonment and poverty. I am always in awe at how resilient, yet as tough as iron, these women became when living under the harsh conditions of frontier life. One bit of advice found in a letter dated October, 1866, stated "make sure you have enough wood stacked before winter, or plan to freeze to death from the wind and cold and snow that continually blows across the Montana plains." Life became a harsh reality. Poetic words were not allowed. Survival of the fittest prevailed.

This historical novel focuses on the period of history from: 1861 the Civil War, the 1862 Homestead Act, and 1868 population of Montana Territory. The Civil War changed the heart and soul of the south forever. Families violently uprooted from their plantation soils were gently re-planted in virgin Montana ground.

Imagine being among the first settlers to come into an area guarded by Native Americans, and/or to find that the land developers had lied concerning sweet water when only alkaline water was found on the homesteads. Payment in full was required long before the purchaser had viewed any of the homesteaded land.

Sudden death, extreme weather patterns, loss of crops, and no neighbors for miles, greeted their every day existence. What a bittersweet period of carving a lifetime out of nothing. Determination to succeed, while surviving in a dugout or log cabin, raising children, animals, food, kept the spirit alive. There is a saying that says that which does not kill you only makes you stronger. I believe that saying must have originally come from a pioneering woman.

Amazingly, my family, now down to seven generations, still ranch and live on the original homesteads. Those uprooted family trees continue to flourish, offering shade and shelter from storms. The characters in this novel are based upon my family history.

I hear the women of this novel, Amelia and Sarah Marie and Beulah and Josie and Mrs. Mutchnik, whispering together as one collective voice when they first see the snow-covered Rocky Mountains… .

We made it! We are home!

April 6, 2011

Lenore McKelvey Puhek

P.O. Box 6002

Helena, MT 5904 [e-mail]

Prologue

June 30, 2011

Helena, Montana

The pamphlet from the Antiques Galore Auction House listed hundreds of items to be sold during the two-day auction. Every folding chair in the huge Civic Center ballroom in Helena, Montana, held a napkin, indicating that the chair was taken.

Hundreds of people milled around the tables, stopping occasionally to remark about the items on display. It was a happy crowd, with no pushing, hogging of articles, or anyone being overly bossy. One couple mingled in with all the rest.

Dan, here is an unusual jewelry box. The size is so petite. I’d love to have it for my box collection. Stefanie held it up and tried to lift the latch, but it was rusted shut. Look at all the various colors of inlaid wood.

Dan examined the piece. Hey! If you have the patience to wait around all day for this one item, go for it. Me? I’m going home to work in the yard. Bye, honey.

Stefanie, more determined now than ever, watched Dan cross the room.

Item after item sold on the auction block. As part of the auction, the heirs of Dr. Amelia Martin, pioneer female doctor in the early days of territorial Montana, had commissioned her beautiful clothes, antique medical equipment, furniture, and personal items, such as hair combs and jewelry.

The minimum bid for a diary was ten dollars. Stefanie decided to bid on it.

Ten dollars. She held up her paddle high for the auctioneer to see.

Who’ll give me fifteen? The auctioneer waited, but due to the amount of items still waiting, he did not waste time on it. Sold for ten dollars. Down came his hammer. This is fun. Sure glad Dan isn’t here today after all. I’m going to bid on many things if the prices stay low.

Two hours later, the jewelry box was finally being offered to the lingering crowd. What am I bid for this lovely jewelry box?

A young woman wearing a t-shirt that said Save the Wolves held up her paddle. I’ll give five dollars.

Stefanie raised her paddle. Twenty dollars. The auctioneer smiled before he turned to the other woman.

Will you give me twenty-five? Up went her paddle. Twenty-two. She turned and glared at Stefanie.

Stefanie smiled sweetly and raised her paddle. Twenty-five. The crowd started clapping for the two women to keep the bidding war going.

Twenty-seven fifty.

This is not good. I’ve only got fifty dollars and I’ve already spent ten of it.

How about you, over there in the turquoise blouse? Are you still in?

A male voice entered the contest. Twenty-nine dollars. The crowd cheered. The lady sitting next to Stefanie said, "This is what I come for, action. Get your paddle up there, dear, or you are going to lose."

Thirty-one dollars. Up flew her paddle. Dan, we didn’t want to stop for groceries anyway. She waited for a comeback. Only silence followed her outburst.

The auctioneer brought down his hammer. In his now familiar sing-song voice, the auctioneer announced, s-o-o-ld to the la-dee in the tur-qu-oise blouse for Thi-i-r-ty-o-n-e sil-ver dol-lars." Stefanie looked up, surprised and happy.

Oh! Thank you, thank you. I really wanted this box. I’ve been here all day just for this moment. She looked around and saw Dan off in the corner, laughing at his prank. He had been the male voice in the bidding. Now why would he bid up on me? That was . . . . She stopped and stared at him. He wanted me to get that box, and he knew I’d stop bidding if the other lady kept . . . God love him.

Stefanie waved Dan over. "When did you come back? Isn’t this all too exciting? What do you suppose is inside? I just know it is meant for me to find out." They walked to the cashier’s table, counted out the money to pay for the two items, and Stefanie very carefully cradled the box, shielding it from onlookers. The diary was wrapped in paper and she stuffed it into her oversized handbag.

Why did you bid on the diary?

I don’t know, Dan. Maybe I need it to tell me who owned the jewelry box?

They quickly left the Civic Center and drove home.

Dan, get me a knife, will you? I need something to pry open this lock plate. The silver hinges are so tiny. I wonder what happened to the key over the years? Stefanie was shaking as she tried to pry open the tarnished latch plate.

Pop! The clasp flipped up and Stefanie worked the knife around the edge between the box and the lid. Here goes, Dan. Whatever is in here is worth more to me than the money we spent. Thanks for being on my side. I owe you one.

The inlaid wood gave way to a satin lining still in excellent shape. The dark green material held a sheen even after all these years.

Would you look at this? Stefanie stared into the box. There she found a packet of letters tied with a sapphire blue ribbon, a card-sized envelope, and a gold heart-shaped locket, worn to a special patina in the creases of the filigreed heart. She lifted the locket from the lining. "Gosh, Dan. On the back side it says, Forever Friends." Carefully, Stefanie set the locket onto the tabletop.

Let’s look at the card first. There has got to be a clue. OOOH!!! She shook her hands in the air, as if drying nail polish. This is so exciting. We are about to enter this lady’s secret past. Stefanie looked at Dan. We might be the first people in over one hundred years or more to look inside this box."

Dan pulled the card from the yellowed envelope. He read Amelia Roberts written in Palmer script on the front of the paper. A red rosebush entwined on a trellis and Happy Birthday decorated the top of the card. It was signed, Jeremiah.

I’ll bet you that Amelia and Jeremiah were lovers. Dan, look at the date on that card, 1861. Why, that is when the Civil War started. She paused. Maybe Jeremiah gave Amelia this locket when he went off to fight and never came back home?

"Your guess is as good as mine, honey. Let’s see what the letters reveal?

Carefully, the couple unfolded each letter, noting the date. The letters, tied in the stack, were love letters, notes to encourage Amelia with her studies and to cling to her dreams and goals. Each letter was signed James Martin, and dated 1862 through 1865.

Martin is the name of the estate sale family. Stefanie looked at the envelopes before she retied the ribbon. I’m so curious about this. We have names and dates. Surely a quick search on the web will bring us some information. Stefanie picked up the locket once again.

These two men must have been very special and important to you, Amelia.

Dan watched Stefanie’s fingers fold over the locket as if to shield it from harm. Help me to find your story, Amelia. Which man gave you the locket? I just have to know. Will the diary tell me what I need to discover? There has to be a reason for my bidding on it.

Stefanie brought her head up to look at Dan. He noticed tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, and smiled. You were meant to have this locket, honey. We’ll find you your answers.

* * *

Stefanie unwrapped the diary and set it on her nightstand. She had restrained herself from opening the book until bedtime. Now, she eagerly crawled into bed and reached for the fragile red velvet covered diary. The first page, where the owner’s name and information would fit on the line, was blank. Amelia, this has to be your diary. Somewhere you wrote your name. Carefully she turned the page. She read the paragraph in silence, waiting for the words to sink in.

The diary, maybe a birthday present to Amelia, did speak to Stefanie. Amelia had signed the first entry.

June 29, 1861

Dear Diary,

I’m heartbroken tonight. Jeremiah’s gone…

From the diary of Amelia Roberts

1

The Birthday Party

"Jeremiah Hicks if you walk down that road I will not welcome you back into my life." She barely whispered the declaration and he stared at her in disbelief.

It’s only for three months. Jeremiah pointed his index finger at Amelia. "You know I have been conscripted to defend our Virginia borders from the Union troops. He reached out to take her delicate hand into his, but she stepped back just out of his grasp. He dropped his arm to his side. All right then… Amelia. Goodbye."

Jeremiah took a step forward, expecting Amelia to run to him. When she held ground he turned on his heel and walked stiff-legged to the end of the yard. He reached for the gate latch unaware of the grating noise that filled the air as he lifted it. The white picket gate swung freely outward and he stepped onto the road. He hesitated, bathed in the glow of the late afternoon sun.

Amelia winced with every screech of the gate but she did not move. Could he not hear her? Could he not see how determined she was to keep him safe? He did not belong with soldiers in the Confederate Army. She held her breath at the sight of him in the sunlight as fear overtook her body once again. It looked to Amelia as if his rust-colored curly hair wore a lustrous halo.

She could not speak. Standing as if paralyzed, tears streamed from her hazel-green eyes. A slight breeze cooled her face as thin wisps of her golden hair tangled with the wetness on her cheeks.

Unaware of how she looked, she kept her focus on Jeremiah, who shrank into a black silhouette with every step he took away from her. When he reached the end of the block, he turned to the right, out of her sight. There was still time to run after him, to say she was sorry and that she would wait for him to do his soldiering and return to her. Yet, she stood like one of the many statues that adorned the nearby church cemetery yard.

Today was her eighteenth birthday. A very special party was being assembled on the spacious lawn behind the brick and wood mansion. Even the shutters had been painted white for the occasion. Her mother and father, Dr. and Mrs. Jonathan Roberts and three younger siblings, one Tabby cat and two dogs currently occupied the house. Two of the older Roberts sons were serving in the armies of the Civil War, one for the north and one for the south.

Miss Bridget Murphy, a very old housekeeper, lived in a separate section off the kitchen in the backside of the twenty-five-room red brick Federal style house. She had stayed with the house as part of the inheritance when Dr. Jonathan Roberts, Sr., had passed on. A special paragraph in his Last Will and Testament intended for her to have continual care. She had served as housekeeper-cook-nanny for the elder Roberts family for almost 50 years.

Upon arriving from Ireland as a young lass, the doctor had paid her passage to New York City and she became his indentured servant. It eased her mind to know she had been guaranteed a place with the family for the rest of her natural life. Marriage and children eluded her through the years of dedication to the Roberts family needs.

A brass plaque, nailed to the wood siding, greeted patients seeking medical help. Amelia’s mother worked alongside her father. She had practical training as his nurse, thus keeping the family tradition alive, as his father and mother had done for so many years. One small room served as a patient recovery room. The other, a larger room with a southern window exposure, held the operating equipment. There was no other medical facility in Front Royal, Virginia. Everyone in the village knew his or her way to Dr. Roberts’s red door.

The family entered the mansion through a side door, shielded from the public by a picket fence and garden arbor covered with rose bushes.

The massive green lawn, landscaped into separate terraced sections, was used by many organizations throughout the summer. Teas parties and wedding receptions were scheduled through the church that the Roberts’ attended. Dr. Roberts hired a gardener and supplied white wicker lawn furniture scattered throughout the area. An ornate fountain spewed frothy sprays from June until September. Children loved to join in circles and dance around the water pool, singing Ring ‘round The Rosie. Sounds of their laughter exploded into the air when they tumbled over each other as they all fell down.

Dr. and Mrs. Roberts’s eldest daughter had requested her birthday party be a celebration with an ice cream and cake lawn party.

Tonight would be exceptional. Their younger housekeeper, Beulah, a woman of color who did not live with the Roberts family, would oversee the black church group she had hired to set up the round tables and chairs that were stored in a special garden shed near the back of the garages.

She requested that Dr. Roberts allow her church choir to come in to do the arrangements as a fundraiser for new gold choir robes. Their goal to have the new garments by Christmas services sparked their enthusiasm. Men and women volunteered to help cater the birthday party. Beulah felt certain the good doctor would fill their coffers for a job well done.

She would also keep charge of the kitchen where several women were busy making finger sandwiches, filled with crab, ham and cheese slices and sweet meats. Two friends stood together talking and laughing at their own jokes while dipping sugar cookies. In another corner by the wet sink, women stirred gallons of sweet tea and lemonade into cut crystal pitchers. Molded mint candies arranged in swirls on crystal plates, one per table, were ready to be moved outside at the appointed hour.

The birthday cake, Beulah’s own concoction, was ready in the pantry hidden from everyone. It was to be a surprise. Beulah liked it that way. She was free to be creative when decorating. The cake frosting was pure white sugar, covering a double-layered white cake. She had used very expensive, specially milled flour that made the cake light and white. Her specialty was flowers, and she tried to match the sapphire blue sash on Amelia’s new dress. There were eighteen flowers of all sizes and each flower held a small candle.

Vanilla ice cream had been hand-turned in the coolest time of early morning. Strawberries, picked that very day from the family garden, were washed and being kept firm and cool in the icehouse. Beulah had told all of the women servers to wear long black skirts and white blouses, and they complied with her request. One seamstress brought small linen aprons with lacy edges for the volunteer women to wear while serving the guests.

Dazzling bright red Chinese lanterns decorated with black dragons, their tails circling around the thin paper were being hung on poles scattered throughout the tables. Heavy, red tassels hung from the bottom of the center holders and would act as a weight against the wind. Tiny candles, centered in holders inside the lanterns, would be lit as family and friends sang happy birthday to Amelia. Buckets of water had been set in place earlier in the day, and attendants, dressed in black pants and white coats, would see to it that the danger of fire was kept to a minimum.

White linen tablecloths, ironed to perfection, hung on a rack, and bouquets of garden flowers were stacked on a side table. Amelia’s job was to help with the table arrangements.

A new, white gauze and lace long dress, with special sapphire blue ribbons at the waist, straddled a padded hanger inside the closet door. It was a special gift, handmade by the old housekeeper. White lace gloves lay on the top of a quilted bed cover; a wide-brimmed white straw hat, covered with matching sapphire blue ribbon roses, hung on the four-poster bed frame.

Where is that girl? Thought Beulah. She is supposed to be out here helping us. Beulah walked around the side of the family entrance and caught sight of Amelia.

Honey child? We need you now. Come along, now. Beulah’s voice sang out. Amelia did not move and acted as if she had not heard the voice calling her name.

Amelia? Amelia? What is it child? Beulah ran to her side, grabbed her by the shoulders and gently shook the young woman.

Amelia? What are you doing? Where is Jeremiah? She looked into vacant eyes spent of tears staring straight ahead. What have you done… You foolish girl? She gently grabbed Amelia by the elbow and turned her towards the house.

Mrs. Roberts! She yelled. Come quickly. I need you.

Moving as if in a trance, Amelia allowed the housekeeper to direct their path. The fingers on her left hand were clamped shut. Clenched inside, cutting into her palm, was a beautiful and very expensive heart-shaped filigreed gold locket, Jeremiah’s gift to his sweetheart. The gold chain swung loosely between her fingers with every step she took.

Without missing a step, Beulah reached down and scooped up an envelope she saw flapping in the breeze. She noticed a card inside as she shoved it into her apron pocket. She didn’t stop to read the card but she assumed it was from Jeremiah to Amelia. Amelia will want this.

2

Jeremiah

What just happened back there? I only wanted to talk to her before all the guests arrived for her party. Why is Amelia so angry? She knew I would be gone for the summer months. How could she send me away like this? Jeremiah stumbled on down the road headed for the family farm, totally confused and stunned by Amelia’s words and actions.

When he had walked with her through the garden paths by the front gate, talking about the party plans, there was only happiness surrounding Amelia. His intentions were honorable and he knew he was in love with her. He had always loved her, even when they were children in school.

Today, her eighteenth birthday, was the day he had special plans to ask her to marry him. For weeks he had practiced what he would do and say to make the proposal special for Amelia. He wanted it to be romantic even though he wasn’t sure what that really meant.

The fight is all my fault. I was too impatient, and should have waited until I returned from my stint in the army. Jeremiah blinked back tears. I can’t get it out of my mind, my heart is breaking and I can’t stop any of it. What a mess I’ve caused today.

Jeremiah could still see Amelia standing near him, smiling, holding out her hand when he had told her to shut her eyes. He had been eager to give her the gold locket for her birthday present, and that locket would represent his love for her until he could afford to buy her a wedding ring. The money he would collect from the army was to pay for the wedding ring, come next October.

Amelia did as he had requested. She had shut her eyes and held out her left hand. She loved to play games with Jeremiah. She wondered what he had just placed into her hand when she felt the cold metal object in her palm.

Now, Miss Amelia Roberts, will you marry me? Jeremiah painfully remembered his question and her answer.

Amelia’s eyes shot open, round and full. She had stepped closer to Jeremiah and put her arms around his neck.

Marry you? Mr. Jeremiah Hicks, you know I will. Yes, yes. I want to marry you.

She had looked into her hand and sighed the sweetest sigh. A gold heart-shaped locket gleamed in the warm sunshine. Amelia had closed her fingers over the top of the locket so not to drop it into the tall grass. She smiled as she turned her attention back to Jeremiah.

We shall be married this very summer. Let’s go find Mother and Father right now and tell them our news. Amelia pulled on Jeremiah’s arm. You can ask Father for my hand in marriage. She had giggled. Now, to Jeremiah, that soft tinkling sound seemed like a gong inside his head.

Then, as if she had remembered something else, she stopped and turned to him. In a flash the happiness had left her eyes and she had replaced that joy with anger. That was when the fight began. Yes, he could see that clearly now.

Jeremiah faltered in his steps as he continued on down the country road, almost home. He could see and hear his coon dog, Blue. He was barking a greeting and loping towards him, tongue hanging to the side.

Down, Blue. Down, boy. The dog continued to dance around his master. I said, down! Now mind me. This time the stern tone of Jeremiah’s voice caused Blue to cower at his side.

That is when the fight began, he thought. When I held back and didn’t answer her right away. She knew I was conscripted for three months. How could we possibly be married this summer?

Jeremiah stopped to catch his breath. He looked out across the fields that he had worked every year of his nineteen years of life, alongside his father and brothers, George, Hawk, Pete and Frank.

His mother kept a very large garden that supplied fresh vegetables for preserving. She also was very proud of her two apple trees that she watered faithfully when they were first planted about ten years ago. Their one cow was grazing in the corner corral. A flock of leghorn chickens pecked at the ground eating bugs and seeds around the yard. The whole family ate eggs every morning and his mother candled the extra eggs for sale at the local market in the village. Fried chicken on Sunday was her favorite meal to fix.

I don’t want to leave with a fight between us. He raised his arms high over his head, clamped his fists shut and screamed into the sky.

He turned into the well-worn path leading up to the farmhouse, after taking a shortcut through the tobacco field.

His mother sat on the porch with a large pan held tightly between her legs by her simple cotton dress. She was shelling peas for an early supper of new potatoes, garden peas, and a bit of pork left over from their noon meal. She had made apple pies earlier in the day and Jeremiah could smell them as he approached the porch.

What on earth? She waved her hand motioning Jeremiah to sit next to her. Jeremiah sat. He put his head down into his hands and wept.

Ma… I don’t know what happened. One minute Amelia and I are walking, talking about her party and the next… his voice faltered. The next thing, I proposed marriage and gave her the locket and then… he could not say any more as he had run out of breath.

Oh son, did she refuse you? I am so sorry. She put the peas to the side of her and reached over for her son. Pulling him into her bosom she patted his back. Let it all out, boy. Let it all out.

I took your locket to Mr. Revere, just like you said to do, Ma. He engraved Forever Friends" on the back side and put it into a black velvet pouch." Jeremiah broke away from his mother and stood up straight, as if remembering something important. The pouch was still buried deep in his pants pocket.

She was so happy, Ma, and when I asked her to marry me she said, Yes, yes. Let’s go tell Mother and Father and we can be married this summer. That is when the fight started. He stretched his neck and looked up towards the blue sky.

"Ma, I am leaving in the morning to join the Confederate Army. She knows all about