recently driven them back towards Washington. Further south though, Union General Grant had successfully invaded Tennessee in the Battle of Shiloh the previous spring, and now there were rumors that his comrade General Sherman had set his sights on Atlanta, the heart of the south. Although close in proximity to DC, where Union forces were regrouping from a serious of brutal defeats, Richmond, Virginia, the Capital of the Confederacy, seemed to be safe for at least the time being as rebel General Robert E. Lee had successfully forced Union troops out of Virginia on his way up to Pennsylvania.
The ever-present fear of invasion had meant life on the outskirts of Richmond had been almost quiet for some time now, so it was an unfamiliar sight to see the young man in tattered confederate gray come racing down the dirt road on his sweat-soaked mount. The gelding's heavy footfalls could be heard clearly over the growing rumble of thunder. Townspeople opened their doors to see what was going on as the bay skidded to a halt outside of the small inn, his heavy head hung low. His rider, equally disheveled, slid to the ground and almost fell. An elderly man, who was exiting the tavern, stopped to help the distressed stranger, and slid a weathered arm around the soldier's shoulders, helping him into the cozy tavern.
"But she's a pretty girl, and pretty girls dont go for guys that look like me." The young man drawled over his jug. "And now with this bum knee I can't walk without a hitch in my stride, why would she take a second look in my direction?" Elizabeth picked up his glass and smiled at him. Justin was a great looking guy, and sadly, one of the few young men left in town. Elizabeth had seen the way he and the object of his affection looked at eachother, and knew that the young man was just scared to talk to the young lady, so he made up excuses why she would turn him down if he did ever try.
"Justin, you listen to me." Elizabeth told the young man with a pointed gaze. "Ella Mae likes you, and a bum knee isnt gonna change that. Try giving her flowers, or even just payin attention to her. You'd be surprised." As Elizabeth placed the empty pint glass into the rinse bucket, her little brother came rushing into the room, breathless.
"Hey Justin, you heard any news from the front?" the little boy chirped as Elizabeth grabbed for his collar. The boy skirted out of her reach though, and climbed up on a seat next to Justin.
"My brother wrote me and told me all about Chancellorsville." Justin piped up, to Elizabeth's dismay. "He said that Lee split the army into three groups, and they attacked Hooker from different directions!" The little boy sat in awe until Elizabeth spoke up.
"Thats enough there you two. Matthew, you have work to do! Go wipe down those tables, and then go feed the animals in the barn. I dont wanna see you again until thats all done!" She snapped, mildly irritated at the unwelcome reminder of the war that was creeping closer and closer to their backyards.
"But Buffy!" Matthew whined, ready to plead his case until she snapped the towel in his direction. Needing no further encouragement, the boy hopped off the barstool and scampered off to do his chores. Elizabeth watched after him for a second, and then turned towards Justin.
"You too!" she snapped."You've had enough to drink for today, so I suggest you move on out."
"But Buffy" he pretended to plead.
"You, dont you ever call me that, or I will tell Ella Mae all about that time you put red ants down the back of her dress!" Elizabeth threatened, holding the dishrag like a weapon. The young man immediately backed down.
"Come on Elizabeth, that was years ago!" Justin stammered, grabbing for his cap.
"Trust me, she hasnt forgotten!" Elizabeth retorted, shooing the younger man out the door while reaching for some empty glasses. She immediately regretted kicking Matthew and Justin out though as she realized she was now alone. The once busy tavern had been quiet since the war began, and Elizabeth missed the cozy warmth that had once flooded the place. Soon, she thought to herself. Soon the war will be over and everyone will come home. Humming to herself, she set to straightening up when the door burst open.
"He needs help!" called James Danner, the elderly man who lived next door. "He just dismounted, and then passed out." Danner had his arm wrapped around the waist of an unfamiliar blonde soldier, who was hunched over in a barely conscious state.
"Matthew!" Elizabeth yelled out the open door of the tavern, while reaching for some clean cloths and placing a pot of water over the fire. Matthew dashed into the room, and skidded to a stop at the sight of the stranger. "Don't just stand there, help Mr. Danner get him in back. Set him up in Steven's bed. Then go get Father from blacksmith's, and see if you cant find Doc Cooper too." Before she even finished her sentence, the young boy was helping Danner get the young man in back. When the water was warm, Buffy grabbed some bandages, the water, and a lantern, and went in back to where the young man now laid as still as death.
"His horse is out front, looks like he's blown. He dismounted and just fell, he just...he's hurt bad I reckon" The old man stammered, his eyes widening as Elizabeth unbuttoned the young man's jacket exposing a nasty wound. Recognizing that, in order to help the young man, she would have to stretch the rules of propriety and strip the young man nearly naked, Elizabeth turned to Mr. Danner.
"You know much more about horses than I Mr. Danner. Is there any way you can take his mount into our barn and look after him for tonight? Doc Cooper will be here soon with Matthew and Father, and I'm afraid the poor animal will be forgotten about. I just wouldn't know what to do to help that poor creature." Buffy drawled, trying her best to look helpless. Mr. Danner's eyes lit up.
"Well, them animals need special treatment, ya know. Those war horses get fed special stuff, I'll see if the missus can't help me mix up some of that mash. I'll rub down his legs real careful-like. You don't worry your pretty lil head, we'll get this taken care of. I'll do it all myself." With that, the old man tottered out. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and pulled back the confederate jacket to expose the young man's chest wound. She was thankful he was unconscious, because the moment that she opened his shirt, she recognized the signs of infection. She hissed out loud at the sight of the angry red flesh.
"That must hurt like hell" she whispered, looking closely at the wound.
"Trust me, it does" Came the raspy response.
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I don't own these characters, and am not profiting from my use of them in any way. With that said, please review my story, as feedback is always appreciated!