The Lady in Gray

By Sandra K-Horn

Historical Fiction readers will enjoy learning about Lydia Aber, who, in 1861, disguises herself as a boy to save her reckless younger brother from joining the Confederate army. Her quest for family becomes a crucible of survival, forcing her to navigate bloody battlefields, forbidden love with a doomed soldier, and the grim reality of a Union p

• Language: English
• Publisher: IngramSparks
• Release date: Aug 1, 2025
• ISBN: 9798218751463

Sandra K-Horn

Sandra K-Horn is an author known for both fiction and nonfiction works. She has written novels such as Downward Spiral and The Springridge Incident, as well as a nonfiction book titled Undercover: Becoming Street Smart in Central Ohio. She has received an Honorable Mention from the Eric Hoffer Award (2008), was featured in the Ohioana Library Festival (2021), and appeared on Amazon's Bestseller list for True Crime Biographies (2024). She will be the featured author in the show "Ekphrasis" at the Priscilla R. Tyson Cultural Arts Center in the Fall of 2027.She has a Substack account, publishing under the name "Oh Hello There! by Sandra KHorn," and an Instagram account under the handle @sandrakhornauthor. You can also reach her at her website, sandrakhorn.net. 

Book preview

1

PROLOGUE JUNE 3, 1956

Her finger traced the engraved letters on the large boulder. 2260 CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS OF THE WAR 1861 - 1865 BURIED IN THIS ENCLOSURE. It still held the warmth from the heat of the afternoon, even though the summer’s day’s light was fading.

The bagpipes’ whine still played in her ears as she walked through the narrow aisles between the graves of Camp Chase Cemetery. Re-enactors had collected the Confederate and American flags from the graves. Camp Chase Cemetery had been groomed for the annual celebration of the American soldiers who fought and died in the Civil War. She looked up at the sandstone archway that straddled the worn rock. Standing proudly at the pinnacle was a Confederate soldier. Wandering a bit more among the closely placed white marble gravestones, she sensed the hair on her arms rise. She heard someone sob.

Ten-year-old Rebecca knew the history by heart and reflected how all this area was once a federal camp to train Federal soldiers and incarcerate Confederate rebels and sympathizers. Again, she heard a woman sob. She looked toward the stage that bordered the cemetery to check if her mother, president of United Daughters of the Confederacy, still talked with her committee. Sensing movement behind her, she turned to find one of the lady enactors wandering among the gravestones as well. Her gray costume was beautiful. The full hoop skirt swept the ground as she moved from grave to grave. Her short jacket and cape were tailored with black piping. Rebecca recalled one re-enactor lady calling an outfit like this a traveling suit. The lady wore a matching bonnet with a veil obscuring half of her face, so Rebecca couldn’t see if she had met her before.

As she watched, the woman took a white lace handkerchief from her small purse that hung from her wrist. As she moved from grave to grave, it looked as if she read each headstone. Rebecca gravitated toward her but stopped when the lady stooped down. It appeared the woman found the grave she was seeking. Rebecca hadn’t noticed a basket before, but the lady took flowers from the basket and placed them on the grave in front of her. Her head bent as if in prayer. Rebecca heard the woman sniff as she put her handkerchief under her veil. The woman stood and walked to the end of the row. She turned once more in front of another grave and placed some flowers.

Despite her initial intention not to disturb her, Rebecca had an irresistible urge to comfort the stranger. As Rebecca reached the first grave with flowers, the woman turned toward her. Rebecca smiled and nodded her head. The lady in gray turned and hurried toward a large elm tree and seemed to pass through it.

Stunned, Rebecca turned toward the grave decorated with flowers. The bouquet had roses, daisies, and daylilies. None of these flowers bloomed yet in their garden at home. The name on the tombstone read 233 BENJ. F. ALLEN CO. D, 50 TENN. REG. C.S.A. Rebecca rushed to the other side of the large tree. She scanned the cemetery. The lady in gray was nowhere to be seen. She hurried back to the other grave with flowers and it read UNKNOWN.

She couldn’t have walked that fast. How did she disappear? Rebecca walked to the stone wall that protected the graves and put her hand on its solid, warm surface. She scanned the flat cemetery again. "Who was that woman?" she wondered. Then she remembered. She ran toward her mother. Mom! Mom! I just saw the Lady in Gray Ghost!

2

MAY 1861

Lydia remembered the menacing words her brother, Gregory and brother-in-law Robert exchanged about the war during dinner last night as she sat blind stitching a dress for the mercantile. She realized Gregory felt restless. He left following dinner and did not return before she went to bed, and she didn’t see him at breakfast. She promised her sister, Daisy, that she would finish this dress before running out to join Gregory. Her sister baked bread and took care of the domestic chores while Lydia worked on sewing projects. Robert, Daisy's husband, minded the mercantile. She pricked her finger again as her mind wandered. Her foot tapped as she glanced out the window, sucked her finger, and tied off the thread. She looked down to see she needed to rethread her needle.

Lydia, stop that infernal tapping. Has Gregory come in?

Daisy walked into the sewing room as she asked the question. No, he likely left early this morning to finish his chores.

Daisy peered out the window. I know, but while I was out cutting some basil, I looked for him but couldn't find him.

What do you need him for?

Robert needs him to fetch some feed from the warehouse and can't leave the front. I'll wander around outside again. You stay here and finish that dress.

Lydia sat up and flopped back against her chair. Gregory was lucky. He didn't have to sit still and sew. She didn't mind sewing and creating clothes, but it felt nice outside and she wanted to ride in this weather to feel the sun and the gentle wind on her face. What seemed to be such a short while ago, she and Gregory would ride and dare each other to do crazy things. They tried different tricks on their horses, like jumping from boulders onto their horses’ backs. They are still close, but lately, he’d been quiet and angry all the time. He and Robert were constantly at odds. Gregory thought he owed his father, being from Louisiana, to fight for the Confederacy. His dad had described New Orleans and its culture. As the issues of slavery and state rights became prevalent, he told his son his beliefs as they hunted or went for walks. Born and raised in Ohio, Robert leaned more akin to the Union issues. They argued regularly about President Lincoln. Gregory called him a tyrant, and Robert thought he sought to be a peacemaker. Since the news of Brigadier General P. G. T. Beauregard's troops attacking Fort Sumter, it has been difficult for them to even sit at the dinner table together. Daisy finally forbade either of them to discuss the issue, but they broke her rule last night.

They were not the only family who were having such issues. It seemed more and more that women complained of friends, cousins, and brothers arguing about the issues of slavery and state’s rights when they visited the mercantile.

Business was brisk for the mercantile this spring. When Lydia's father moved them from Louisiana to Gallipolis, Ohio, eight years ago, the family's move was to allow her father to start his own mercantile business. He learned from his cousin, already settled in Gallipolis, that the Ohio River village was developing into a tremendous agricultural port. He lived to see his business succeed, and since his sudden death a year ago, Daisy and her husband, Robert, ran the store and warehouse. The threat of war caused an increase in river traffic and in the number of federal troops funneling through the village. Robert and Daisy often needed Lydia and her brother to work in the mercantile. Lydia didn't mind, but Gregory rebelled over the last six months.

With the last of the thread tied, Lydia looked out the window to see her sister walking past the gardens. Daisy was tall and slender, blonde, and graceful. At fifteen, Lydia considered herself gangly, but she was only five feet two inches tall, much shorter than her sister and losing ground to her brother.

Lydia stood and stretched. She looked down and noticed the hem of her dress was above her shoe ankle. Robert came in with a bolt of gray wool. I've been meaning to bring this in before it sold out. You asked for it a week ago. Sorry.

Lydia smiled at him. Robert, it's okay. It's only for britches for Gregory. His pants are so short they appear silly.

Robert nodded and headed back to the front.

Lydia and Gregory were only ten months apart. Lydia was the older of the two. They were similar in looks, with hazel eyes and dark curling hair. Until two years ago, she could run free with her brother. Then her sister told her she needed to stop climbing trees and wading in the river with her skirts hiked up. She would come home from riding her horse, Beau, through the countryside and racing Gregory and his friends. She would be muddy and her clothes torn. To punish her, Daisy sat her down to mend her own clothes. Lydia, to Daisy’s surprise, not only mended her clothes, but revised them. She then took to designing and sewing dresses. That’s when Daisy taught her how to create clothes for sale. Lydia picked up the bolt of cloth and rolled it out on the long cutting table. She turned again to the window and saw her sister returning on the garden path. Lydia walked to meet her at the back kitchen door.

Did you find him?

No, I swear that boy knows how to disappear when you need him.

Do you need me to get the feed? I can load them and bring them up with the cart. It’ll take longer, but I can do it.

Will you harness old Sam to help you?

Yes.

Good. Get along now. Mr. Laurent will be along soon. He was just going to the livery.

Lydia hurried down the path to the barn. She was trying to shorten her steps to please her sister, but now she figured she'd appreciate her using her longer stride. Daisy tried to be the mother figure in Lydia's life since her mother died of birth fever shortly after Gregory’s birth. Seven years her senior, Daisy, matured before her time to help her father. Now twenty-two, married and helping her husband manage the mercantile business, her sister was more serious than many other women her age in the village.

Scanning the barn, Lydia yelled, Gregory. You can come out. It's me.

Lydia listened. Only the hum of flies. She headed to the tack room and grabbed Sam's harness. Moving quickly to the corral, Sam's braying hello greeted her. She led him to the small cart and harnessed him. She climbed on the cart, snapped the reins, and headed to the warehouse as fast as Sam chose. It only took a few minutes to load the grain in her cart.

After giving Sam an apple, Lydia entered the mercantile to tell Robert the grain was in the cart for him.

Why don't you take it out front, and then we can load Mr. Laurent's wagon. Will there be extra bags?

There should be, but maybe Mr. Laurent will want the extras?

Robert smiled. You’re always thinking, aren't you?

Mr. Laurent took the extra five bags Lydia put in her cart. As she was driving the cart back to the warehouse, Lydia scanned the back garden for her brother. After she let Sam back into his pen, she walked back into the barn to the tack room and hung Sam’s harness. Climbing the ladder to the hayloft, she scanned it. It looked undisturbed. As she climbed down, she noticed the odor of manure was strong. She walked the length of the barn and discovered none of the stalls were cleaned or swept out, which meant Gregory had not been out this morning to do chores.

Gregory didn't appear for dinner. As they ate, Daisy asked Lydia if Gregory mentioned meeting his friends anywhere. Lydia shook her head. She froze as she was cutting the last of her meat. I'll be right back.

Lydia ran out the back door and to the barn. I knew there was something wrong! I just couldn't figure it out.

She ran back to the house and store. I knew it!

Lydia, what is it?

When I was down at the barn today, I thought something was off. A saddle and bridle are missing. Gregory put a new saddle and bridle from the warehouse into the tack room so we wouldn't notice one of ours was missing.

I'll be darned. He went the whole hog to prevent us from noticing he was gone, Robert said.

But where would he go? Asked Daisy.

To join up, said Lydia.

3

PLAN FOR GREGORY'S RETURN 1861

What? Daisy turned pale. She looked at Robert and said, Did you need to rile him up so much last night?

Me? O Shaw, Daisy. He’s the one who wanted to get into it.

It’s nobody’s fault, Daisy. Gregory planned this for a while. One spat with Robert didn’t make him go. He wanted to join up.

He’s too young!

Not to be a drummer boy, said Robert.

What?

Lydia nodded. He’s always pounding on one thing or another.

Oh well. He’ll be back once he gets hungry, Robert said as he rose to work in the barn.

You believe he just ran away?

Daisy, the boy will realize that he’s been a damn fool and will come back with his tail between his legs.

Lydia started quietly to clear the table as Robert left. You don’t agree, do you Lydia?

No.

Daisy sat still for a bit while Lydia held her breath. She didn’t know what was going on in Daisy’s head. Lydia, you must go after him.

What? Me? How?

Lydia put down the dishes she was cleaning.

Well, we need to do something.

Why can’t Robert?

Do you really suppose Robert is going to go after our silly brother? No, you have to.

Daisy stood to help clear the table. All the dishes had been emptied and stacked when Daisy turned to Lydia and said, Did I see some gray wool in the sewing room?

Yes.

Good.

Daisy turned and left the dishes to head through the kitchen and the breezeway to the sewing room. Lydia shook her head and took off after her. What are you planning?

We’re going to make a pair of britches.

Well, Gregory looked silly in his…

No, you’re not making him some britches. We’re going to make them for you. You can wear his shirts, but you can’t wear his britches. We’re going to take a hat from the mercantile.

Slowly, Lydia’s face flushed and then her mouth opened in an O. I’m going to wear britches!

Oh my, for a smart girl, it sure took you a while.

Daisy measured Lydia’s waist. Hike your skirt so I can get your inseam. Use the pattern you were going to use for Gregory and adjust to these measurements.

Once she finished measuring Lydia, Daisy left to wash the dishes and straighten the kitchen. Lydia started laying out the fabric and the pattern.

When Daisy returned to the sewing room, Lydia had cut the fabric, but she hadn’t started putting the trousers together. Why are you just sitting there? Daisy asked.

Because I’m not going.

Why you sure are!

No, I’m not. How am I to find out where Gregory went?

I agree. She’s not going.

Robert stood behind Daisy in the sewing room doorway. Daisy whirled around. Robert Rutledge, I told my father I would look after them.

Yes, you did. But did that include Lydia putting herself in danger because of her headstrong brother?

If anyone can persuade Gregory to come back here, it’s Lydia!

How is she supposed to do that?

Reason!

Right, he’s so reasonable.

During this exchange, Lydia stared at them. Daisy’s face was red and her hands were fists at her side. Robert faced her and his jaw was clinched tight. She stood and moved to the sewing table. Daisy. Do you know where men are signing for the Confederacy?

Daisy turned to her and walked to the table. That’s what I came back in to tell you. I spoke to Mrs. McKinney before we realized Gregory had left. She told me as proud as can be that her son would soon travel down to Lexington to sign up.

Robert extended his hand. Tell me you are going to send your sister to Lexington to find her brother, where there are all sorts of men on the road. She won’t be safe.

Turning back to Robert, Daisy said in a calmer tone. That’s why she’s going to be dressed as a boy. No one will bother her. Men expect to see a woman in skirts. They won’t recognize a girl in pants.

Robert shook his head. I find this unbelievable, turning to return to the mercantile. I’d forbid it, but it won’t make a difference.

Daisy turned to face Lydia. Her dark eyes were fiery. Well? Are you going to save your brother?

Lydia lifted the first piece of fabric to pin the trousers together.

The Singer Sewing Machine treadle clicked and clicked until it became too dark to see her sewing. Sighing, Lydia placed the britches on the table of the machine and sat back in her chair.

As Lydia climbed the stairs that led to the upstairs living space of the mercantile, she fretted if she could find her way to Lexington by herself. She walked into the room where Daisy was darning socks and Robert was reading the town’s newspaper by the light of an oil lamp. Daisy looked up. Did you finish the britches?

I have some stitching to do on the top and the bottom. I’ll finish them first thing tomorrow.

Good. I’ll pack you some food and you could be on your way by noon.

You realize she’ll be sleeping outside tomorrow night. It’ll take more than a day to get there.

She’ll be fine.

You realize I’m standing here.

Both turned to look at her, surprised. Why, of course, we did.

How am I supposed to get to Lexington? I’ve never been.

Honey, you are going to take one of our horses.

Robert looked surprised. What are we supposed to do, pull our wagon ourselves?

Of course not. By the time we need to haul anything, she and Gregory will be back. Wells Fargo brings our goods from the East.

But we travel to get them from Columbus.

There is more and more commerce on the river, and besides, they’ll be back by then.

She’s going to need money.

I’ll give her my pin money and we can spare some from the mercantile.

Lydia shook her head. Well, I’m glad you’ve considered everything.

Don’t fret your head about this, Lydia. You’ll be fine.

Lydia turned and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Her father had thoroughly planned for everything when he built the mercantile. Within the three-story building, he had provided space for what they would need. The mercantile, sewing room, and dining area occupied the first floor. A separate building in the back, connected by a breezeway, served as the kitchen and cooking area. On the second floor, there were living quarters where he had his bedroom and a spacious area for the family to settle in the evening. It had its own stove for warmth and Daisy had created a rag rug that made the family room cozy. It had a long bench and chairs to sit and read by tables and oil lamps for light. The third floor had a spacious area for the children. Once Daisy married, they split the area into three bedrooms. Daisy and Robert moved down to the second floor when their father died.

As Lydia lay her head on her pillow, she still worried about finding her way to Lexington and then locating Gregory.

Lydia was cutting a new pattern for a dress order when Daisy came rushing into the sewing room. What are you doing?

I’m starting Mrs. Abbot’s order.

You should get ready to leave. I have good news!

Lydia laid her scissors down. Reverend Gérard just came back from Morgantown. He had a meeting there with the Union Council of Ministers and saw Gregory.

Did he talk to him?

No, but he felt certain it was him. So now, isn’t that better? You can go to Morgantown.

Lydia put the fabric and pattern away. She crossed to the clothes rack, grabbed her cape, and put on her hat. Passing Daisy and Robert in the mercantile, she said, I’ll be right back.

Where are you going? Daisy asked.

To see Reverend Gérard, she said as she closed the shop’s door.

Lydia nodded to people as she walked down Second Street to St. Peter’s Episcopal Church. She knew the reverend would be there or at his home nearby. Mrs. Gérard answered the door of their home. Good day, Mrs. Gérard, is the reverend home?

Why yes, he’s in his study reading. Let me get him.

Reverend Gérard came down the stairs and met Lydia in their parlor. Did Mrs. Gérard offer you some tea, Lydia?

No, but I can’t stay. Reverend, are you sure you saw Gregory in Morgantown?

The reverend smiled and, motioning with his glasses, said, Lydia, I may need these to read, but my eyesight is still strong for distances. Yes, I am sure it was Gregory.

What was he doing?

He was talking to a Confederate soldier. Then they both turned and walked away from me. I had a meeting scheduled and had to hurry to get to it or I would have tried to catch up with them.

Can you tell me how to get to Morgantown?

Why. sure. Are you trying to catch up with Gregory?

Daisy wants him back home, and she’s sending me to get him.

The reverend nodded. Okay. He raised an eyebrow and peered at her. It will be a little rough for a buggy.

Reverend Gérard measured five feet six to Lydia’s five feet two, so she had to look up at him a bit. She nodded. I’m riding a horse.

The reverent paused, took a deep breath, and slowly shook his head while he stood. Well, you’ll need to a place to stay. Let me write a note to the reverend in Morgantown. His Missus will make sure you eat a good meal and have a clean bed once you get there.

He left the parlor, and soon Mrs. Gérard brought in a teapot and teacups. "I don’t know where my manners were when you came in, Lydia. I apologize. I