Her Captain's Heart (16 page)

The three kings arrived at the barn and greeted Mary and Joseph with a lot of hand-waving, and then they dropped to their knees before the baby.

The three kings rose and walked back up the aisle to the white curtain, striding regally, not little boys in ragged clothes with torn dish cloths tied on their heads.

Matt watched Verity as she gazed forward. When he had arrived home a few minutes ago, he had immediately looked for her at the house as if he weren't really home until he spoke to her. He'd found Samuel, who had been on his way to the school.

When Samuel had told Matt about Verity's Christmas play with both white and black children, Matt marveled at her audacity. Was there anything this woman wouldn't do?

Then, interrupting Matt's concentration, Samuel tapped him on the shoulder before slipping outside.

Dace finished the story.

Then Dacian looked up and said, as if he were in St. John's on a Sunday morning reading the epistle, “Here endeth the lesson.”

“Come out, children, and take your bows!” Hannah called, hurrying the children out from behind the screen. The whole class of children met at the front, bowing and curtsying to loud applause and whistling from all around the room.

In this enthusiastic clamor, Matt heard Verity's triumph. How did she do it? How did she get whites to bring their children here? True, it was only the children of three white families, but they were here. It had to have been Verity's visit to the Daughters of the Confederacy meeting and the precious box she'd entrusted to them that had made the difference.

Listening for Samuel, Matt looked around and found his cousin looking back at him. The tug of family still plagued Matt. But maybe
plagued
wasn't the right word. Dace had come around a lot. Matt felt as if his heart were being drawn toward his cousin.
What do you remember, Dace, of what happened all those years ago?

Dace cleared his throat and the room fell silent. “Now I'm told the children will entertain us with a Christmas song to end this lovely presentation.” He nodded and strode to the rear to stand behind his wife, who was already waiting by the door, evidently ready to depart.

Head cocked to one side, Matt listened carefully for sounds from outside. What was taking Samuel so long?

Grinning, the children paraded up the aisle together and with loud whispered reminders from one of the girls, arranged themselves into a choir. Verity nodded and they began singing:

Then over the children's singing came a loud thumping on the roof. Matt folded his arms. He shielded his mouth with his cupped hand so no one could glimpse his broadening smile. The children kept singing, but stared at the ceiling above them. Matt stifled a chuckle. He'd enjoy watching this, watching Verity be taken by surprise. And he'd savor her delight.

W
hen Verity heard the sound of a cow bell clanging, she didn't know what to think. Then the door burst open and Samuel stepped inside, carrying a wooden crate. Verity stared at him. The children stopped singing.

“Children!” Samuel shouted. “What do you think just happened?”

“What?” Annie asked breathlessly, her hands pressed together in front of her chin.

The same anticipation made Verity hold her breath.

“Santa heard you singing and stopped by.”

Almost all the children began dancing and jumping with excitement. Even Alec looked excited.

Watching the children's eagerness sped Verity's own pulse. She peered ahead, trying to see what was in the crate.

“And do you know what he said?” Samuel asked.

“What?” the children replied.

“Santa said he couldn't stay, but he said you all deserved something special for such good singing. Now you all line up.” Samuel turned toward the door, where Verity noticed Matthew lurking in the shadows. “Mr. Ritter is going to hand out Santa's gifts to each of you good boys and girls.”

Verity pressed her hands together.

Matthew looked chagrined, but the children lined up, still bouncing on their toes. He took the box Samuel was pushing toward him and sighed loudly.

Verity studied Matthew's stoic expression. How would he handle this?

“What did Santa bring us, mister?” Thaddeus asked, neck craning to see the contents.

A frown creasing his forehead, Matthew hesitated and then gave in. He stooped and lifted the lid of the crate. “Whoa. Look here. Oranges.” He pulled out one and handed it to the first girl in line. Not surprisingly, it was Sassy.

The children all squealed, “Oranges! We never got oranges before!” Sassy yelled.

Verity stood to the side of the classroom, watching Matthew handing out the fruit to each thrilled child. Happiness radiated within her. Samuel slipped to her side. “I thought Matthew should hand out the fruit. He bought it in Richmond for your schoolchildren.”

“He did?” Verity was surprised and touched. She couldn't imagine how much these oranges had cost him in Richmond in December.
Oh, Matthew, how dear of thee.
“How did he find out we were having the play?”

“He didn't know until he arrived at the house tonight and I told him about it. He'd planned for you and Beth to deliver them to your students tomorrow on Christmas. I decided it would be more exciting if they were handed out here, tonight. From Santa, of course.” Samuel grinned.

This would be a Christmas to remember for these children born into the privations of the war. And Samuel had done right to urge Matthew to hand out the gifts he brought.

The war had left them all trying to catch up on simple pleasures, the delights of everyday life that had been taken for granted before four years of vast suffering and horrible carnage. Before tonight, Matthew probably hadn't ever had the chance to experience the joy of giving to children. Did anything match the joy of watching children excited over Santa?

“You're still coming for dinner tomorrow with your parents?” she asked Samuel.

“Wouldn't miss it—especially since I'm leaving the next day to find Abby.”

Verity touched his arm, worried that he might find only pain and loss.
God, be with this good man.

“Wonderful play.” Samuel gripped her hand briefly and then went to stand by his mother and father.

It didn't take Matthew long to hand out all the fruit. Verity enjoyed watching Matthew's smile broaden until it lit up his whole face. Children were good at that—good at reminding adults of what really mattered in life.

The winter wind rattled the windows, reminding the parents to gather their children and head home. At the door, each thanked her as they left. Dacian came over and wished her a merry Christmas.

Verity offered him her hand and said, “I don't know if you'd be able to, but you and Mrs. Ransford would be very welcome to stop over on Christmas Day.”

“And will Samuel be coming, too?” Mrs. Ransford snapped.

“Yes, he will be there with his mother and father,” Verity replied, not the least bit surprised that Lirit brought this up again.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Dacian said. “We may drop by for a cup of cheer.”

“Please do,” Matthew said, moving to stand by Verity. His nearness topped off her happy glow. She had to stop herself from claiming his arm.

Dacian looked up at his cousin. “Merry Christmas, Matt.”

“Same to you.”

Verity heard the emotion that Matthew was trying to hide behind his gruff reply. She inched closer to him. He smelled pleasantly of leather and fresh air, an enticing blend.

Dacian shook Matthew's hand. With lifted nose, Lirit led her husband out. And soon the school was empty except for Verity, Joseph, Beth and Matthew, who'd stayed to sweep up the stray straw. Verity listened as Joseph talked to Matthew, drawing out all he'd learned in Richmond about starting the Union League.

Beth yawned and Verity realized it was time to get her to bed. Then Verity would get to play Santa. Her own parents had shocked some of the other Friends by including Santa in their celebration of Christ's birth. But her father had loved the story of the jolly old elf and had scoffed at the naysayers.

Her father would have heartily approved of the gift Samuel and Matthew had given these children this night. Who could disapprove of such innocent joy?

 

The house was silent as Verity crept down the creaky stairs to slip Beth's Christmas presents into her stocking on the mantel. When she stepped into the moonlit parlor, with its Christmas tree, she was caught up short. Matthew was there also, putting something into Beth's stocking.

He turned to her and whispered, “I got her some new red hair ribbons.”

The wonder that Matthew had thought to buy hair ribbons for her little girl caught Verity around the heart and made it impossible for her to speak. Tears came to her eyes and she turned away.

“What's wrong?” he whispered as he came up behind her. “Shouldn't I have bought ribbons?”

She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to hide the fact that she was fighting tears. “She'll love the ribbons,” Verity whispered.

“You're crying.” Matthew laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “Why?”

Verity shook her head, unable to put into words how his gift had touched her.

 

Matt tried to think why his putting ribbons in Beth's stocking should make Verity cry, but came up blank. It was just one of those inexplicable things women did. Then he caught her lavender fragrance and his mind went back to the day they'd cut the two Christmas trees. The memory of her lips went through him like a warm west wind.

Then she did something unexpected. Her hand grazed his cheek and slid into the hair over his right ear. In that exquisite moment he thought he might die of the glory of it. It had been so long since any woman had touched him. He savored the sensation like a starving man letting sugar dissolve on his tongue.

In the moonlight she lifted her fair face to his. For the first time he saw the invitation he hadn't known he was waiting for until this moment. Slowly, as if they were puppets on strings, their faces drew toward one another. Their lips met and it was a tender meeting. Matt closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. Warmth flooded him. He had yearned for this moment—without even realizing it.

He let his lips roam over hers. They were sweeter and softer than he'd remembered. His thumbs made circles on the collar of her cotton flannel wrapper. Her underlying softness worked on him, melting his final resistance to this woman.

At last he drew back, his hand cupping the back of her head. He looked down into her caramel-brown eyes glistening in the low light. “We're colleagues here and now. But we won't be forever.”

She nodded.

Did that mean she agreed that they might be more than colleagues sometime in the future? He couldn't go on without revealing more of his tangled, unexamined feelings than he was prepared for at this time. But this woman had brought healing to Fiddlers Grove—and at least some measure to him.

Because of her, he was speaking to his cousin and had even worked with him to deal with Orrin. He'd thought he'd come here because of his mother's deathbed request. But he had come here to fill in the hole that being forced to leave his home in 1852 had left in his life. He'd come to find his family, his friend Samuel.

And did he indeed love this woman? Was she the right one?
She must be. I've never felt this way about any woman before.

“Good night,” he whispered, making himself end their sweet interlude. Hesitating, hating to leave her, he traced her soft lips with his index finger once and then turned and left.

 

Verity stood still for a very long time after he'd closed the back door. Then she went and tucked into Beth's stocking the new red mittens and scarf she'd secretly knitted, and a peppermint stick. Verity had already received her own Christmas gift—Matthew's kiss and half-spoken promise.

They had come to an agreement tonight. Both of them were committed to their work here, and that took precedence over their personal feelings. If they went forward as a couple now, she would not be able to focus on her mission as teacher and peacemaker here in Fiddlers Grove. The Freedman's Bureau did not employ married women as teachers.

But if she'd understood Matthew right, a time was coming when she could put widow's black behind her. She leaned her head against the smooth wooden mantel and let lush wonder flow through her every nerve.
Thank Thee, Father, for this very special Christmas gift.

 

In the thin wintry sunlight of early January, Verity walked up and down the rows of desks, her skirts swishing over the wooden floor. Friendly voices hummed in the room. Children were quizzing each other, preparing for a spelling test that would start in just a few moments. Then the school door opened and Annie's grandmother burst inside, ushering cold wind into the warm schoolroom.

 

Matt stared out the kitchen window toward the school through the windbreak of leafless poplars. He wondered how the latest news from Washington would affect their work here. The Richmond newspaper lay on the table. He'd read the headline countless times in the past few minutes. Every newspaper had brought troubling news from Washington, D.C., but this was the worst. It couldn't bode well for them.

President Johnson had been fighting the Radical Republicans in Congress over the South's refusal to ratify the Fourteenth Amendment, which would make former male slaves voting citizens. When Matt thought how the latest development in this conflict might affect the tenuous peace here, his stomach churned. He knew Verity, who'd always had higher hopes than he had, would be devastated.

Matt saw Dace galloping up to the back door. He knocked and entered without invitation. Then Dace pulled the same Richmond paper from inside his coat and shook it at Matt. “Have you seen this?”

 

Startled, Verity looked up at the woman. “What is it? What's happened?”

“We've found Jesse!”

For a moment Verity could not figure out who Jesse was. And then it came back to her. The day she'd visited the Daughters of the Confederacy meeting, Jesse had been the first lost soldier she'd revealed to the ladies. “Thee did!” Verity shouted in joy.

“Yes.” Annie's grandmother swept up the center aisle. She held out a letter in both gloved hands. “I just received a letter from his wife, Louisa. We had contacted the South Carolina militia adjutant and he fowarded our request to the family of the man he believed to be our Jesse. She begs us to send his effects to her.”

Thinking of Louisa and the comfort that word of her late husband would give her, Verity could not stop her tears. “Oh, I am so happy, and my sisters will be, too. Oh, praise God.” Verity opened her arms and the two women embraced.

 

Dace halted in front of Matt and looked at the paper on the table. Dace threw his copy on top of Matt's. “You've read it, then?”

“Yes.” Matt glanced down again at the headline: Congress Divides South into Five Military Districts.

“It's monstrous,” Dace exclaimed. “According to this, Virginia isn't even a sovereign commonwealth anymore. The Union military will rule us. Are you Yankees trying to get us to secede again?”

You Yankees.
He and Dace were enemies again. The past few weeks had just been a lull in the long war. Matt rubbed his taut forehead, his gut tightening.

“When my slaves were freed, I lost most of my wealth. Then after the surrender, the Union government confiscated my harvested tobacco and cotton. I'd stored four years of harvests on
my
land that I hadn't been able to sell due to the Union blockade. Then they stole everything but the house, leaving me nearly penniless.