ROSEDALE IN APRIL
Chapter Five

A storm was rolling in…billowing clouds started to race across the wide Texas skies…churning, whirling, swirling into the color of slate…exhaling their warm breaths like mighty gods of the west wind. Rose DeWitt Bukater loved storms…thunder and lightning…wind and rain…the energy of its awesome power cleansing in its might. Her insides were nigh to bursting as the whispering breezes rushed through her long auburn hair like a gentle caress from an elusive lover. Whipping tendrils out and around her like a flaming torch, she emulated a sultry siren bewitchingly beckoning a long lost love to come and embrace her. Far up on the widow’s walk at Rosedale Plantation with eyes closed shut, her arms extended out to her sides in worship for nature’s soothing brewing force to sweep her up into the heavenly sky storm. She felt herself rising up on wings of fire…flying higher and higher.

And then…everything went absolutely quiet…and still. The blasting winds abruptly died down, the harmonious music of native birds suddenly hushed their songs in mid note, and even the chirping insects ceased their incessant chanting. And then, she heard it. In the far distance, the threatening distinctive sounds of wagons rolling. Straining her ears, the echoes of literally dozens of horses prancing to the beat of a persistent tat, tat, tat, rat-a-tat-tat of a marching drum…soldiers!

Rose fearfully leapt to the brass telescope that had been permanently mounted on the elevated rail, its purpose for observing the heavenly stars and galaxies in the dark studded nights. Where Rose was standing, she was virtually floating above the treetops and could clearly see at least a half-mile out onto the river road. High above the ancient live oak trees that lined the front path for at least a quarter of a mile leading up to the antebellum mansion, Rose espied dust being kicked up in a mirage of clouds which could only mean one thing…an approaching army regiment. Squinting harder, she could just make out tiny microscopic images of a military column marching single file…coming…coming…God Almighty! Please let them pass!

Peering through the scope, Rose anxiously watched, waited, and prayed. Please, dear God, please let their coats be gray!

In the next instant, her heart leapt into her throat. Shit! Dirty Yankees…right here in Texas! But that’s impossible! Why are they this far west? Oh my God, New Orleans or Shreveport must have fallen!

A million thoughts began tumbling through her dizzily spinning head. But she must stay calm…don’t let the others see your fear. After all, she still had that damnable ace up her sleeve. Even though it would repulse her to use it, she could still play it if the need arose. For she could claim immunity as the future wife to a northern superior officer. But then again…oh shit! The letter…not anymore…Cal must have received it already and this was his warped revenge!

Rose began to profusely sweat…I should have listened to Lizzie! She tried to warn me! She and all those at Rosedale were about to be severely reprimanded, she just knew it. And knowing the evilly sinister Henley as she did, quite harshly and thoroughly for her brash defaming rejection.

Rose broke into a panicked run. Flying down the spiral staircase taking two steps at a time to the second floor landing, she suddenly snatched an unsuspecting Lizzie by the arm causing her to unceremoniously drop a tall stack of clean linens onto the oak floor. Dragging the frightened girl behind her as she continued her swift descent, she forcefully demanded, "Come with me…no time for questions!"

As they reached the grand sweeping staircase, Rose’s high-pitched scream ricocheted off the tall vaulted ceilings, "Nanny! Sam! Jacob! Get to the back door…hurry!"

The stark panic in her near hysterical tone was obvious…the pure terror ominously certain. All five persons were breathing hard as they had all broke and ran at the excessively loud fear laced summons. For what on earth could ever scare Miss Rose into such a frenzied state?

Breathless, Rose vehemently ordered, "Take to the swamps…Yankees are coming…get to safety, there’s not a moment to spare! And don’t come back till I come and get you. Go ring the bell, Sam! Call in the others…warn them to hide in the woods! Hurry! Go!"

"But Miss Rose, wez ain’t leavin’s yo’ behind to face no Yankees by yo’self! You’s our babe. Yo’ po’ Mama would haunt ours hides ifn’ we hid out likes a bunch of skired quail!"

"There’s no time for back talk, Nanny! Just get! Now! All of you! Time’s a wasting!"

"Naw’sum, Miss Rose. We’s jes ain’t gonna do it! We’s been here longer than you and we’s is astayin’! And dat is dat!"

"Quit being as stubborn as a mule, Nanny! They’re here to destroy something…I can just feel it!"

And at that, Lizzie’s frightened eyes widened and bulged while her skin noticeably paled. Inwardly worrying, Miss Rose done gone and did it dis time…I knows she shouldn’t have sent dat letter! I tried to tells her! Dat girl jes’ never listens to nobody!

Rose recognized the determined set of her dearly loved Negro governess’ jaw and the familiar comforting arms folded across her heaving bosom and she knew, Nanny wouldn’t budge come hell or high water! Exasperatedly turning to Sam, the black foreman, Rose heatedly implored, "Sam! Talk some sense into your Mama!"

"Naw’sum, Miss Rose. I’z wi’ her. We’s ain’t goin’ nowhere but right dere!"

"Oh, blast it all to hell! Y'all are just too damn stubborn for your own good. Jacob, run and get me the gun in the study! And make sure it’s loaded! Hurry, Jacob!"

Bolting for the front window, Rose anxiously peaked out at the oak lined front lane…hoping and praying for a redeeming heaven sent miracle.

"Hurry, Jacob…they’ll be here in just a few minutes! They’ve just turned off the main road…they’re coming fast!"

A near hysterical young Jacob swiftly covered the distance and threw the loaded gun into Rose’s trembling hands. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but she impulsively grabbed a hat off the hall tree and hastily positioned it on her head before sweeping the mass of copper hair up and underneath its crown. Today, Rose was scandalously dressed in men’s tan riding breeches with an ivory silk poet’s blouse tucked inside at her tiny waist which overly emphasized her shapely, womanly curves. Topping her shocking ensemble off with knee high brown leather boots, from a distance, she could have passed for a young teenage boy. As long as one didn’t glimpse the overly endowed chest and the voluptuous curves that clearly wreaked of pure femininity. Nonetheless, the masculine apparel might serve as an advantageous disguise of sorts. It was worth a try, she overwhelmingly worried!

"Now stay back everybody…they’re almost here. Let me do the talking…you hear?"

*****

A mere quarter of a mile away, Union Army Captain Jack Dalton authoritatively held his hand up, "Company Halt!"

Curiously, Sergeant Tommy Ryan peered at his captain in expectation. What he saw stunned yet reassured him that Jack had obviously not satisfied that all-consuming need for revenge. For a dark, sinister sneer spread across his captain’s snarling countenance and the gleaming blue eyes narrowed and hardened at the breathtakingly magnificent sight that pristinely sat before them…hauntingly beckoning the Captain to fulfill his destiny.

Primly perched on the upper banks overlooking the serene black waters of Caddo Lake, a great antebellum manor stood waiting. Ancient majestic moss-draped live oaks stood in twin single file formations emulating gigantic parasols, which shaded the tunnel-like alleyway leading to a graceful southern belle’s front door. The grand oak trees stood as antiquated bearded soldiers guarding their gracious queen from the blistering hot Texas sun. From their current position, the grand palatial mansion seemed a mere inches in height. Massive white Ionic columns encompassed her surrounding porches supporting heavenly balconies, verandas, and a steeply dormered roof. Lush rolling green lawns shared their thick carpets with the ruffled pink azalea petticoats of the proud Texas lady.

Vying for dominance, daffodils, lilies, and narcissus held hands like small children dancing in the rustling spring breeze. Wisteria, jasmine, honeysuckle, and gardenia assailed the senses while seducing honeybees, hummingbirds, and butterflies to their fragrant, luscious blossoms. Proud princely peacocks strutted across the lawns in their aristocratic attire as if haughtily flaunting themselves at the tired and weary enemy platoon. Newly flowering dogwoods, mock oranges, and red bud trees painted a magnificent masterpiece that drew awed sighs from even the most stoic soldier. And serving as a virtual ground cover among the groomed pecan and peach orchards, a wide field of blue bonnets interspersed with red clover and Indian paintbrush elaborated the enchanting paradise that reeked of austere grandeur and grace.

"So…this is the mysterious, alluring treasure of Rosedale…humph…!" the seemingly unimpressed Captain scoffed in derision.

"Captain, she’s a gem…I ain’t never seen anything like her! A surreal haven for the men to finally rest and relax for a change. It’s been too long since we’ve seen any leave…it should be mightily peaceful to finally get out of the brunt of all the blood and guts fighting!"

Captain Jack Dalton merely crooked a dark dominant brow in amusement…and great anticipation of what awaited ahead.

"Company! Forward march!"

Jack Dalton curiously glimpsed the marvels of obscene beauty as they made their halting approach to their final destination. General Grant had been right on target to insist that they make their headquarters in this particular strategic locale at the edge of Jefferson’s perimeters. River access and a high altitude vantagepoint would afford them a great view in order to easily detect any possible Confederate encroachment. Although the General had personally ordered this specific encampment location, Jack still sensed the man was slyly hiding his motives for the secret mission. But who was he to question a superior’s reasons? Nevertheless, he had enthusiastically jumped at the fateful opportunity that this had presented to him personally…to seal and finalize his dire need for revenge against his most hated nemesis...Major Caledon Henley.

Rose DeWitt Bukater took one last calming breath and clenched her jaw in steely determination. Remember Madame India’s advice, Courage in the face of adversity! Never let your enemy see your vulnerabilities or fear!

"Here we go…now remember what I said…stay inside…all of you!"

Bravely, Rose grasped the ornate silver doorknob and purposefully stepped out onto the raised front verandah. Nevertheless, Nanny, Sam, Lizzie, and little Jacob stubbornly followed close behind. Deliberately bringing the barrel of the gun around and pointing it at the lead rider just as he held up his hand to halt the Union regiment, Rose rebelliously planted her tiny booted feet.

The infernal glaring Texas sun was harshly baring down on Jack, blinding his squinting eyes to where he couldn’t clearly detect the "welcoming committee" gathered outside on the front porch. However, it seemingly appeared as if a young boy was at the forefront and menacingly aiming a muzzle directly at him considering the blurring metallic reflection glancing off the gun!

"One more step, Yank and I’ll send you straight to hell where you belong!"

Mildly shocked, Jack began cynically albeit mockingly laughing while deliberately showing no fear whatsoever at the foolish wisp of a boy’s ludicrous threat.

"And whom may I ask is going to send me there…you?"

At that, all the Union soldiers within earshot burst out in loud guffaws at the ridiculous threat against their respected leader. All except Sergeant Tommy Ryan. He saw it…the cold, hostile look of all consuming bitter hatred. For he had seen it first hand many times before in his homeland far across the Atlantic Ocean in Ireland. That all too familiar deadly scowl that permeated so many faces of the people that inhabited a land wrought in constant strife and death.

But Rose never wavered.

"Sergeant! Take this big tough lad’s weapon!"

A loud threatening click of the hammer being thrown back was his answer.

"I’m only going to say this once…so listen carefully Reb…put the God damn gun down…NOW!"

Throwing his words back at him heavily dripping with vile contempt and loathing, "And I’m only going to warn you once more, you dirty, filthy Yankee! Get the hell off my land…NOW!"

If looks could have killed, they both would have been planted six feet underground at that precise heat charged moment.

Jack savagely cursed under his breath at the upstart of a boy actually daring him to tan his backside with a leather strap…and he was just the man to do it! As thirsty, hot, tired, and hungry as he was at that minute, what little patience he possessed was dangerously stretched as fine as frog’s hair. He was just itching to thrash somebody and it seemed like he had his coveted scapegoat in this arrogant, belligerent Johnny Reb scrap of a boy!

"All right…you give me no choice. But perhaps you’re just an addled and very feminine she-boy that’s asking for a back strap across that little ass of yours!"

More loud cackles arose from the thoroughly amused soldiers. This young scamp just didn’t realize who he was messing with. Captain Jack Dalton always professionally exhibited a no nonsense approach towards his men. When he gave an order, you’d better damn well follow it to the hilt, or there would be all hell to pay. Of course, nigh a one would even "think" of questioning their brave Captain’s direct orders. For they would follow him to hell and back if he led them there. Willing to die not only for their country and the cause, but also for this honored and respected man that they had all been fortunate enough to diligently fight beside.

Captain Jack Dalton determinedly swung his long muscled right leg around to dismount from his lathered chestnut gelding. As soon as his booted heel left the stirrups and barely touched Rosedale soil, a loud thunderous roar rent the ominously quiet air. The abrupt, ear piercing discharge from the muzzle unexpectedly spooked Jack’s horse causing the Captain to be unceremoniously and humiliatingly dumped onto the ground on his already saddle sore backside.

This time it was the small group of Negroes standing behind the young boy that remarkably began to chuckle in amusement. All except Lizzie…her stubborn sister, Rose DeWitt Bukater, was foolishly afraid of nothing. However, this was one time in her life that Liz heavily suspected that she ought to be!

A black, dark, ominous raging fury settled over Captain Jack Dalton that unfortunately blocked out all sense of rational thought or reason. His cold blue eyes narrowed dangerously and gleamed with something that even Tommy Ryan had never seen before. Not even in the heat of battle had he glimpsed such malicious deadly intent. The stunned column of Union soldiers stared with jaws agape in utter disbelief and astonishment.

Rose should have seen it…but tragically, she nonchalantly ignored it.

Seeming as if to calmly aright himself, Jack didn’t even bother to dandily brush off the dust that stubbornly clung to his navy blue uniform breeches.

"You’ll pay for that Reb—tenfold!"

Sergeant Ryan had hurriedly dismounted and had tried to help his captain up, but Jack had given him such a dark warning look, he had wisely stopped dead in his tracks while concernedly stammering, "Captain, are you all right?"

"Sergeant…get a rope and light a torch!" Jack harshly growled.

Impaling the little black hearted varmint with satanic eyes the color of blue moonstones, Rose froze in horror at the dawning realization of what the man was about to criminally commit. Incinerate Rosedale to ashes!

"But Captain!" Sergeant Ryan unwittingly objected.

"Sergeant Ryan…that’s a direct order!" Turning on his booted heels to confront the filthy culprit who had the audacity to fire upon a Union officer, yet thankfully missed, Jack braced his feet apart and put his arms akimbo before issuing his terrifying intent. Damn this blasted Texas sun…it’s literally blinding me! I can’t even see the little bastard!

"You got five minutes to get whatever you can carry and get everybody out of the house. If you’re not out, you’ll go up in flames with it and blessedly burn in hell for what you’ve just done! Because frankly, I don’t give a damn! And furthermore, Reb…if you don’t put that fucking gun down, I’ll personally hang you up from one of these trees. And don’t think for a moment that I won’t. I’m capable of committing cold-blooded murder right now…child or not!"

"Don’t make me use this, Yank! Besides…you can’t! I’m claiming immunity on the basis that I’m engaged to one of your superior officers. Major Caledon Henley…and if you persist, he’ll make you pay dearly for this! You’ll be shot or face a court martial at the very least! I swear to God!"

"Four minutes!" The blood and temper were pounding and boiling so fiercely in the Captain’s ears and head that he never stopped to consider what the she-boy claimed. Besides, he just simply refused to hear any useless explanations for none would matter now. Regardless, the whelp had blatantly dared to threaten him…the little gutter rat!

"Captain, I must implore you…I’ll give you anything I possess, but please don’t burn my home down around me!" Stark hysterical panic seized Rose’s insides and her slightly quivering voice inflected a very feminine high pitched shrill.

"Three minutes." Jack stoically unmoved, continued to count down completely ignoring the pitiful plea. But there it was again, the distinct female timbre of a lilting voice. But Henley’s wench? Surely not…he just couldn’t accept that. No way the pompous, arrogant, distinguished Major Caledon Henley would attach himself to such a brazen, unsophisticated bitch of a whelp!

"I’ve never begged for a God damn thing in my entire life, Captain. But now I am…please, please don’t do this…"

"Two minutes."

The nervous tension was so thick you could practically slice it with a knife. Even the regiment of previously jovial soldiers was aghast at their commander’s malicious intent. It was so quiet, one could virtually hear a pin drop. Even the herd of lathered horses wisely chose not to whinny or move as if they sensed the volatile, precarious situation. No one breathed a sound or moved a muscle…each in their private hazy fog of suspenseful stupor.

Rose irritably brushed off her hat in agitation and duress. Worriedly rubbing her forehead, Think Rose…what to do…what to do! She knew she couldn’t overpower him but maybe a bluff would work. But Rose knew she had to try. Deliberately raising the gun to her shoulder again, her fiery green eyes shooting daggers of pure unadulterated hatred, she finally exhaled a loud breath and ominously pulled the hammer back for a second shot and aimed right between those damning, unflinching eyes.

"One minute."

"Don’t make me do this Yank! Are you ready to go straight to hell?"

"Sergeant…the torch! Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…"

Chapter Six
Stories