The Man from Shenandoah by Marsha Ward

listen?”

    “You’ll try. Go along back to Pa. This is all his idea.”

    “I told you to say you was sorry, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

    “Go along, or I’ll help you,” he threatened.

    “I’ll go. I obey Pa better than you.” Marie wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, then stopped walking to wait for her father and sister.

    Carl heeled Sherando into a faster gait to catch Ellen. As he came up beside her, he slowed the horse again and looked down at her angry, set face. “Say, you ain’t still sore at me, are you?”

    Ellen kept walking.

    “I was mean as a mad dog to you back there in town. I’m sorry.”

    Still she walked, facing front, giving no notice to his words.

    “I was worried about you. Looked like you were going to get yourself killed.”

    She stopped, hesitated, then looked up at him, shading her eyes. “You were worried? Why?”

    Carl reined in the horse. “That was no way to treat any girl, especially a Southern girl. Them Yanks figured to hurt you. That scared me.”

    “You were scared?” She began to walk again, and Carl followed, walking his horse.

    “Yes. You was, too.”

    “I saw them horses coming faster than I had figured, and that’s what made me trip. I about died of fright.”

    “You about died of trampling!”

    “I’m sorry you got so muddy, and worried, but I’m most sorry I didn’t get a chance to thank you. You saved my life, I reckon.”

    Carl was silent for a moment, wondering why the conversation was so easy. One thing , he told himself, this girl don’t talk funny like that Hilbrands gal, playing a man like a fish on a hook . After a while he asked, “Is your pa planning to rebuild the farm?”

    “What choice does he have? We got to put the crops in, and I guess the barn goes up after that. But I reckon we don’t need much of a barn, since the Yankees came through and took almost all the stock!”

    “You’ve got you a temper, girl. Almost as bad as mine.” He laughed.

    “That’s what my ma keeps telling me. She says, ‘Girl, you’re never going to catch—’” Ellen’s face turned red again.

    “What’s that she says?”

    “Never mind. Not important.” Ellen began to walk faster again.

    Carl nudged Sherando to a faster gait and caught up to her.

    “If you’re in such a hurry, you can ride behind me for a ways. Likely Marie’s bag is soft enough to sit on.” He put down his hand to help her up.

    Ellen stood still in the road for a moment, then she accepted Carl’s offer, took his hand, and he boosted her up on the baggage behind him. “Hang on tight,” he advised. She slowly put her arms around his waist, and he felt the warmth of her body against his back. Then she rested her cheek against him, and he noticed that the thud of her heart matched the beat of his.

    ~~~

    “Chester, you been wiped out. Come with me to Colorado. You can grow acre after acre of wheat there.” Rod Owen sat in the Bates’ front yard on a tree stump, looking from Chester to his wife, Muriel.

    Chester Bates was a mild, weather-beaten man, thick of chest and shoulder, but with no spare fat on his bones. His reddish hair was thinning a little on top, and his square jaw made a proper floor for his square face. Rod had seen the light fade from his dark blue eyes when he returned from the war to find his wife and daughter living in the former tool shed, compliments of the Yankees who burned his home. Now the light was back.

    Chester glanced from his dark, matronly wife to his friend. “You’re a God-send, Roderick Owen. I’ll go with you,” he replied. “I’ll leave this place and go with you, and the Yankees be damned!”

    “Chester, the young ladies,” Muriel scolded, smiling.

    Ellen pounced on Marie. “This is your secret,” she burst out. “And now we’re going with you. Lawsy me, if we didn’t go, I’d just die!”

    ~~~

    “James is back,” Julia greeted Rod. “He brought in all that wood. What are we going