Forbidden Love in a Hostile Land

By Wes Henson

Justin was born in South Carolina, during the Civil War. While in the army he quickly moved up the ranks and had men under him. He never seen a slave and he was shocked at the way they were being treated. He soon realized he was fighting for the wrong side and he made up his mind that he was going to desert the first chance he got.  
Jasmine was born a slave in the deep south. She was a beautiful, black woman and suffered a lot of abuse because of her looks. Her dream and desire was to escape and head north to Ohio and freedom.
Will their love endure after the Civil War, prison and abuse when they both come from different backgrounds? Will they be able to find peace and happiness in the west away from the Klu Klux Klan and all the hatred?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wes Henson
• Release date: Feb 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393681830

Wes Henson

Wes Henson was born in Eastern Kentucky, but currently lives in Pickerington, Ohio. Wes is a 4th degree black belt in Kung-Fu and he taught Martial arts for several years. He served in the Air National Guard and the Navy Reserve. He retired after working thirty-six years for Mars Petcare.

Book preview

Chapter 1

General John Hunt Morgan climbed on a large rock, turned and faced his men.  His officers are standing in front of him; waiting for him to give the command to mount up.  Behind his officers are the rest of his men, twenty-four hundred strong.  They are in a large field surrounded by woods.  Morgan isn't worried about the Union Army finding him or his men.  He has a dozen men posted in the woods to alert him of any danger.

Morgan takes a deep breath and looks around.  He loves this time of year.  He loves the crisp autumn air, the red and gold leaves on the trees.  He even likes watching the leaves as they fall from the trees.  The leaves seem to glide effortless and gracefully from the trees.  He turns his attention back to his men.  They are preparing for battle.  They are checking their horses and weapons.  Smoke rises lazily into the sky from the dying fires.  He knows the smoke will alert someone, and soon a Yankee army will be on their way.  But he isn't worried about the Yankees.  He knows Kentucky well, and he doubts if the Yankees know Kentucky better than he does.

He knows the Yankees consider his cavalry raiders as guerrilla warfare on a grand scale, and that he doesn't fight by the rules of war.  But what are the rules of war?  The rules are whatever the Yankees make up.  It’s all right for the Yankees that most of the war is being fought in the South.  It’s all right to blow up bridges, burn crops, kill innocent women and children in the South.  Now the Yankees are getting a taste of what the South has been experiencing. 

He and his men have been attacking railroad lines in Kentucky and Ohio that support Union military operations in Tennessee.  They also bring terror and death to whoever gets in their way.  He and his men burn barns full of supplies, burn houses, kill livestock and attack small towns.  This enrages the Yankees and forces them to divert thousands of troops from the Tennessee front to search for them.  So far, the Yankees haven’t come close to catching him and his men, and they have been raiding Kentucky and Ohio with hit and run tactics for several months.

Morgan looks at his men.  They know their orders.  Twelve groups of one hundred men each will ride off in different directions destroying everything in sight, bridges, railroads, towns, houses, barns and killing anyone who gets in their way.  Morgan and the remaining 1,200 men have a different agenda. 

All right men,  Morgan bellowed,  you have your orders.  After you accomplish your mission we'll meet across the Ohio River in Kentucky.  If something goes wrong we'll meet in Georgia, and after this raid we’re heading deep in the south for some rest.

The men cheer loudly.  They need a break from the war and they’re looking forward to a chance to rest, drink and flirt with the girls.  Lieutenant Justin Ward mounts his horse and rides off with his men behind him.  The route he chose takes him far away from the rest of the troops and hopefully away from any approaching Yankees.  He knows being invisible until the last moment is the key to success for any cavalry raider.  And his men know he doesn’t tolerate anyone who doesn’t follow his orders.

Justin and his men ride single file through a large woods and through a small stream while avoiding several houses.  After two hours of riding they stop.  Justin and his men are nearly invisible in the thicket they are hiding in.  He pulls an eyeglass out of his bag and studies the bridge directly in front of them.  The bridge stretches across the Ohio River into Ohio.  His target is a small town called Ironton.  His orders are, rob the bank, taking only the gold, set fire to the town and kill any men who get in their way.  Then on their way back into Kentucky, he is going to blow up the bridge.

He doesn’t see anyone on the bridge or across the river.  He turns the eyeglass and surveys the rest of the country.  There are fires from several houses and barns in the distance, and further away thick smoke rises from other fires.  With a knot in his stomach and a lump in his throat, Justin sighs heavily.  He is getting tired of the war.  Where there is smoke and fire he knows there is death.  Not only are men dying, but women and children are dying, supposedly by stray bullets.  At least that's what General Morgan told him when he asked him about the senseless deaths of women and children.  When Justin asked General Morgan about the rapes.  Morgan said he can't watch his men all the time. 

There is another thing that repulses Justin.  He is a solider, and he doesn’t mind killing men in battle, men who are trying to kill him.  General Morgan on other hand has a different view on battle and he hates the Yankees, especially Negroes, and the Negroes he hates the most are the ones who fight for the Yankees.    General Morgan is a rich man who made his money by using slaves to work his land.  Whenever a Yankee surrenders, that is, a Negro Yankee or if he captures a Negro, or if he runs into any Negroes during his raids he kills them.

When Justin questioned him about killing prisoners of war, General Morgan screamed,  Those Negroes aren’t equal to me and they don’t deserve to be on the battle field!  They’re only good for picking cotton!

Justin is a country boy from the mountains of South Carolina.  He doesn't have any family.  He has never been any further then the mountains before the war and he didn't know anyone who owned slaves.  He is a simple man, with a gift, he is good at killing.  He has quick reflexes and he is good with a pistol.  He can look death in the eye and not lose his nerve, which makes a good soldier.  And what is a soldier?  A soldier is a killer.  He doesn't mind fighting and killing other men, men who have a gun in their hand trying to kill him.  What he doesn't like is when innocent people die, especially women and children, and two years of fighting and killing has made him numb.  At times he no longer cares weather he lives or dies, and he often charges into dangerous situations with the mind-set if he were killed, it would be a mercy killing.   

He joined the Confederate Army at the age of eighteen because his friends were joining.  He didn't have any family.  His mother and father died when he was thirteen-years old and he had been on his on after their death, so it seemed like the right thing to do.  After his first battle he realized that death came in many forms.  A cannon ball to the head, sharp metal through the body, gangrene, fire and many other things that visited him in his sleep at night.

Justin folds his eyepiece and puts it back in his bag.  He is thankful that Morgan gave him this mission instead of one of the others.  His missions are usually the same, attack towns, blow up bridges and railroads.  He doesn’t like burning people's homes.  Because when you burn someone's home the homeowner will usually try to defend his or her home, as he himself would do.  The homeowners are usually women, children and boys too young to fight in the war and old men too old to fight in the war.

Justin looks at his men and said,  Nelson, take five men and set some dynamite under the bridge.  After we finish burning Ironton and cross the bridge we'll blow it up.

Nelson called out five names and Justin shouted,  Lets go boys!  He spurred his horse and took off at a trot with the rest of his men behind him.

As they crossed the bridge the horses’ hoofs sound like thunder on the wooden planks.  The bridge shakes and sways under their weight.  Every time Justin and his men ride across a bridge it reminds him of a storm, which in essence he and his men are a storm.  Ironton is less than a mile away and a mighty storm is going to destroy their town.  Just like the locust that destroyed Egypt in the days of Mosses.  He and his raiders are going to destroy Ironton.

Justin's men are well armed, and each man knows their job.  They ride in fast and hit hard.  Some men are going to rob the bank; some will torch the town and businesses, while the rest of his men stand guard, killing anyone who poses a threat.

As they round a curve in the road.  Justin sees Ironton setting sleepily in the noonday sun.  Ironton is a small town of six-hundred people more or less, one bank, two stores, a hotel, a few businesses and a collection of houses.  He knows there will be resistance, there always is.  But these people aren’t a match for he and his men.  His men are seasoned killers and each man carries several weapons.

As they enter the edge of town his men give a wild Rebel yell.  Justin wears a pistol on each hip.  He also has two pistols mounted next to his saddle horn.  Although he carries a riffle in a scabbard, he prefers his pistols.  He draws his pistols next to his saddle horn.  In front of him, women and children run into stores or other buildings seeking safety.  Horses tied to the hitching rail buck and jump.  A horse in front of the general store rears up and takes off running, pulling its wagon behind it.  Crouched behind the wagon is an old man, an old woman and a young woman.  The old woman and young woman run into the store.  The young woman's beautiful, blond hair is flying in the wind as she runs.  The old man claws at a pistol on his hip and Justin shoots him in the chest as he rides by.  The old man slams into the dusty boardwalk, dead before he hits the ground.

Justin positions himself in the middle of the street.  His men fan out all around him, some carry torches while others have their guns drawn.  All around him there is gunfire, screams and cursing.  A riffle barrel appears out of a second story window followed by smoke from the barrel.  He hears one of his men scream as the bullet knocks him from his horse.  Justin fires where he thinks the head will be.  He sees the hands that hold the riffle jerk and disappear inside the window.  The riffle falls harmlessly out the window.

Justin takes his time and fires shot after shot.  All around him time seems to be going in slow motion.  His senses are heightened, and he sees everything in a different perspective.  He sees a young boy of about twelve holding a pistol in his hand.  Smoke is still coming out of the barrel.  Then one of his men unloads both barrels of a shotgun into the boy.  The double aught-buck catches the boy in the stomach nearly tearing him into.  The boy falls on the ground, his intestines spilling all over the ground, his lifeless eyes stare into space.

Two people run out of a burning business, a woman and her child.  The woman’s hair is the color of corn.  She takes a bullet in the head, blood and brain matter spray everywhere as her head takes on a grotesque form before she falls to the ground.  The small child, a girl of about six runs screaming in front of some charging horses; her body bounces under the horses as if she were a rag doll.  The hoofs of the horses tear her body apart; her white dress is a mixture of blood and mud.  Inside a burning saloon some men are putting up a stiff fight until the roof caves in on them.  He hears the screams of the dying inside.  Then four men come running out with their hands in the air.  His men cut them down in a hail of bullets.  Down the street a man comes out of a burning bank.  His hair and clothes are on fire.  He runs around screaming and yelling while Justin's men laugh.

A man steps out of the alley and fires his riffle at Justin.  The slug tears at Justin's collar.  Justin fires both pistols at the man.  His hammers click on empty chambers.  He puts his pistols back in their holsters on his saddle.  The man drops his riffle and pulls his pistol out of his waistband.  The distance is less than fifteen-feet.  Justin draws his pistol out of his holster on his hip.  The man begins firing frantically at Justin.  The bullets sail harmlessly around Justin, like angry wasps.  Most people freeze in the face of death.  Fear takes over.  General Morgan and some of the other men said Justin has ice water in his veins.  He doesn’t know what it is?  Maybe he does have ice water in his veins.  Maybe he is confident in his ability and sure of himself, or maybe he doesn’t care if he lives or dies.  He fires his pistol.  The bullet drills the man in the head.  The man spins around, a big hole in the back of his head, then he falls to the ground.

Justin hears a woman scream from the general store, a scream of primal fear.  He knows what is going on and who is involved.  He dismounts, ties his horse to a hitching rail and walks into the store.  He stands just inside the store letting his eyes adjust to the shadows as he takes everything in.  An elderly man, obviously the owner of the store lies behind the counter dead.  The older woman he saw earlier is laying in the aisle with a bullet in her back.  He sees his men in the back of the store in a circle laughing and cheering.  That's its Shawn show her what a real man is!

He hears the woman scream,  Please no!

Justin's holsters his pistols and yelled,  That's enough, let her go! 

His voice bellows in the small store.  His men turn and face him.  There are seven men.  Six men are standing.  They turn to face him.  Shawn is bent over the crying woman.  The woman is the young blond he saw run into the store.  Her face is bleeding.  Her dress is ripped off her.  Her delicate, white breasts are hanging out.  There are red marks on her breasts, and there are scratches on her body and she is breathing heavy. 

Justin knows most of his men hate him as much as he hates them, and these seven men are troublemakers and all they think about is raping women.  Get off that woman and get out of here!

His men don't move.  They stare at him as if deciding whether they should kill him or not.  Finally, Shawn breaks the silence as he begins pulling his pants up.  We're just having some fun, so why don’t you turn around and walk away.

Because you're scum who prey on the weak and meek, you don't know what chivalry is.  You're cowards without a trace of bravery in your bones.

Shawn is still on his knees.  His pistol is lying on the floor next to him.  He grabs his pistol and points it at Justin.  Justin draws both pistols and fires.  The shots sound like one.  The bullets catch Shawn in the head, slamming him backwards as blood and gore fly everywhere.

Justin looks at his men and screams,  What are you waiting on!  A minute ago, you wanted to kill me! 

His men stare at him, afraid to move.  Afraid their move might be interrupted as something else.  Each man knows Justin's temper.  They also know he is deadly.  In a group they might challenge him, but they would never challenge him when he is mad.  They saw him like this many times, and they know when he’s like this.  He doesn’t care if he lives or dies.

Justin holsters his pistols and asked,  Is that better?  Do you like the odds?  When his men don't answer he screams,  get out of here!  *******

His men look down at the ground and walk out of the store without saying a word.

Justin picks a blanket off the floor and walks over to the woman.  The woman hasn’t moved.  Her hands are covering her breasts.  Her eyes lock on his eyes, and tears begin to spill out of her eyes and every feature in her face shows fear.  Justin puts the blanket over her chest and said,  I'm not going to hurt you.  Get up and get dressed.

The woman stands up, wraps the blanket around her body.  She is shaking and blood runs from her nose.  Justin asked,  Is there a backdoor to the store?

The woman nods without taking her eyes off his.

All right,  he said,  get dressed and get out of here.  Then he turns and walks out of the store.

On the boardwalk he stands and surveys the town.  The street is hot from all the burning buildings, and heat waves dance in the distance.  The heat feels like it is sucking the air right out of your lungs.  The air is thick with the stench of death and charred bodies.  He walks over to his horse and mounts.  There are still a few sporadic shots being fired, but their business here is finished.  He looks at some of his men who are waiting for his order.  He yells,  Lets ride!

His men repeat the command and they charge out of town.  Once they cross the bridge.  They stop in a thicket.  He and his men dismount.  He reloads his pistols as he looks across the bridge.  Behind him his men are stirring, a few men are moaning from their wounds. 

Sergeant Nelson walks over and stands beside him.  The charges are set Lieutenant.

Justin is a patient man.  He learned after attacks such as these that patience often pays off.  He stopped for three reasons.  First, to let his men care for any wounded and to reload their guns.  Second, to see if they are being pursed, third, to make sure they don’t ride blindly into an ambush. 

How many men did we lose?  Justin asked.

Five dead and eight wounded,  Nelson answered.

Do we have lookouts posted? 

Yes, and the rest of the men are waiting for your orders,  Nelson answered.

He takes the eyepiece out of his bag and studies the country.  Even without an eyepiece he can see heavy smoke rise in the air from Ironton.  And off in the distance he can see smoke from smaller fires that the raiders set.

Twenty minutes later one of his men comes running up.  Lieutenant, Yankees coming.

Which way?  he asked.

The man points down the road in the direction Justin and his men would be travelling.  The Yankees probably saw the smoke from Ironton and had an ambush set up waiting on them to ride by.  But when they didn't ride by they probably figured they were still in Ironton.  How many Yankees are there?

About seventy counting civilians.

Tell the men to be quiet.  We'll blow up the bridge as they cross it.

The solider disappears and Justin and Nelson melt back into the thicket.  They don’t have to wait long for the Yankees to come.  He sees the dust first, then the Yankees come into view.  There are about forty soldiers leading the pack followed by thirty civilians.  The horses thunder on the dirt road and the men curse and yell at their horses urging them to go faster. 

When they ride past and start crossing the bridge.  Justin looks at Nelson and said,  Give the signal to blow up the bridge.

Nelson gives a series of quail calls and a couple of seconds later two men come running out from under the bridge.  The men run across the rode into the thicket.  The Yankees are so intent on reaching Ironton that they don’t even look behind them.  And just as the first group of riders cross the bridge there is a loud explosion.  The bridge buckles and moans.  Then it disappears in a cloud of dust.  When the dust settles, they can see several men and horses lying on the ground across the bridge.  In the river there are more men and horses, those who aren’t dead are frantically fighting for a piece of driftwood as the current sweeps them down river.

Justin yelled,  Mount up and let’s ride, but keep your eyes open in case there are more Yankees in the area!

As he and his men ride out of the thicket, he looks across the bridge.  It looks like half the men made it across the bridge, those men who made it across stare at him and his men in bewilderment as they ride away.

As he leads his men away he thinks about his life.  A year ago, he was fighting on the front line, facing men in battle, men intent on killing him.  He rarely saw a woman or child or any slaves.  He was just a simple soldier, killing and fighting to stay alive for a cause he thought was worth dying for.  Then as the war progressed his superiors recognized he had skills that most soldiers didn't have.  He is good with a riffle and pistols and he is a superb horseman.  His superiors soon promote him to Sergeant and put men under him.  When he excels at that, he catches the eye of General Morgan.  That was six months ago.  Now his life is drastically different and so is his view of the war.

His father and mother were hard working, simple people trying to make a living before they died.  They were just like the people in the North whose houses General Morgan burns to the ground.  He knows the Yankees burn houses too, but that doesn't make it right and he hates himself for being part of it.  He would rather fight men face to face then these hit and run tactics.  But even facing men in battle doesn’t seem right anymore.  It isn't that he is a coward.  It’s just that he has a different perspective of the war now. 

At first, he didn't have an opinion on slavery because he didn't know anyone who owned slaves.  But after hearing stories from different men he fought with on how slaves are treated.  He changed his mind.  He finds it repulsive and humiliating to be part of the human race.  No one has the right to own another person, nor do they have the right to treat another human like an animal.  He knows slavery has been around forever, a lot of conquered people were slaves.  The Israelites were slaves to the Egyptians, Vikings had Slavs as slaves.  The Ottoman Empire had Christian slaves, Great Britain and Ireland sold fair-haired Anglo children in the marketplace, and even Africa tribes had slaves.  The question for him is; what is he going to do?  What could one man do?  He can’t change sides.  If he told the Yankees, he changed his mind; that he had been fighting for the wrong side.  The Yankees would accuse him of being a spy and kill him.  He can’t tell his commanders he doesn’t want to fight anymore.  They would kill him.  If he ran away and was caught they would hang him for being a deserter, but the more he thinks about it, hanging seems like a better option than seeing a small girl trampled by horses.  Whatever he decides he has to do something soon.  He can’t live with himself if he continues fighting for something he doesn’t believe in. 

Chapter 2

Justin and his men were keeping close to the river when they heard a lot of shooting about a mile or so up ahead.  He and his men stopped and listened to the shooting.  It sounded like a pitched battle.  He and his men fanned out and begin walking their horses forward.  About a mile down the road he saw Lieutenant Ramsey, and his men.  Ramsey motioned for him to come forward but to remain quiet.

When he reached Ramsey.  Ramsey said in an excited voice,  Yankees, they got Captain Lofton and his men pinned down about a half mile up the road.

Show me where they are,  Justin said.

Ramsey and a couple of his men led the way while Justin and Sergeant Nelson followed.  They followed a deer path through the woods and the closer they got to the shooting, it intensified.  They dismounted and moved forward on foot.  With each shot that was fired Ramsey jumped as if he were being shot at.  Justin pretended not to notice.  They moved forward fifty-feet and stopped behind a dead tree.

With his head hidden behind a tree, all most like a turtle peaking out of its shell.  Ramsey said,  The Yankees have Captain Lofton and his men trapped.

Justin surveyed the area ignoring Ramsey.  Ramsey was a good man, a solid man.  He was also a man in his late thirties with a wife and two children.  But when faced with a stacked deck, or the odds weren’t in his favor.  Ramsey tended