in search of a ghost?
For the first time I noticed the silence. The night was hushed, as if it waited for a burst of fire or a volley of cannon. “Where is the Union army? Why aren’t they shooting?”
“Several battalions have dug in at the low ground not two miles from here. We’re expecting reinforcements any day.”
He spoke with such matter-of-factness, and absolutely no fear. I didn’t completely accept what might have happened to me, but I felt a sudden rush of pity for this man. He had no concept of the future, of the futility of the battle about to be fought. How could I tell him that those reinforcements would never come? That the siege of Vicksburg was one of the most torturous events of a long and bloody war. That his army, his men, were doomed to starvation and death, along with many of the residents of the town. I was overwhelmed with what I knew and could not tell.
“You’re looking ill. Let me walk you back to Ravenwood. I’m sure that we can find something to bolster your spirits.”
I hesitated. What would I find at the plantation? Would Canna Quinn be mourning the death of his daughter, Mary? What would he make of my sudden and unexpected appearance? What had happened to the mini van I’d rented? How could I wake myself from this nightmare?
“My name is Nathan Cates, lieutenant colonel in the Seventh Confederate Cavalry.”
How should I respond? I decided on a simple name. “Emma Devlin.”
He hesitated, as if he waited for more. “Are you a relative of the Quinns?”
“No. A guest.”
Nathan captured the reins of his horse and we started back to the house. Several minutes passed in silence. I sensed that the man beside me struggled to say something. I was completely disoriented and unable to decide what I believed. Silence was my only choice.
“Miss Devlin, I’ve taken a vow this summer, and I’m about to break it. I think this has gone far enough.”
He’d lost me completely, but it sounded sinister. “What vow? What are you talking about?”
“I took this…job, and it’s a matter of honor with me to fulfill my obligations. But I can see that I’m distressing you, so I think I’d better tell you the truth.”
With his words, it was as if lightning had zapped behind my eyes. The costume! The strange cadence of his speech! The courtliness of his manner! “You’re part of the Civil War reenactment, aren’t you? You’re paid to act out the role of cavalry colonel and it’s against your contract to break character.” I’d read all about it. With the first flush of excitement also came a bitter aftertaste of disappointment. I had wanted to meet a ghost. I’d been more than ready to believe it. As unreasonable as it was, I also felt anger.
“What are you doing on the grounds?” I asked.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
“These are private grounds. I think you should take your horse and leave.”
“Miss Devlin, please allow me to walk you back to the house. The grounds are supposed to be private, but they aren’t secure. I am sorry that I’ve upset you. You see, I didn’t expect to find anyone here, either.”
He sounded genuinely contrite, and a bit of my anger passed. “You frightened me, but only a little. I didn’t know if I’d woken up in the Twilight Zone or if I was in the company of some raving lunatic who was living in the past.” I wasn’t about to confess that I’d hoped he was a ghost.
“By your accent, I’d say you’re from the South. Surely you know about the Vicksburg reenactment. It’s part of the history of the town. It’s one of the biggest tourist attractions. And reenactors are required to stay in character.”
“I had my mind on other things.” The understatement of the year. “That business with the sword at my throat, though, was pretty convincing.”
He laughed out loud, an easy, slow chuckle. “Maybe I should ask for a pay raise if I’m such a great actor. Or maybe, Emma Devlin, you’re ready to believe in something different in your life.”
The humor of the situation struck me hard. I smiled, and that was quickly followed by a chuckle. The man had truly unsettled me. He had every right to believe I was a half-wit. All it had taken was a uniform and a half dozen comments, and I’d been ready to believe I was talking with a Confederate soldier.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I brought Frisco over for a gallop around the grounds. He doesn’t get a lot of exercise during the day I’m afraid, and the gardens around the plantation are incredibly beautiful.”
“They are indeed.” He was waiting for my explanation. “I’m staying in the house while it’s closed. I’m…researching a project.”
“Then you’re a writer?”
His eager questions made me feel guilty of some deception. “In a way. I write for a card company, but I’m at Ravenwood on personal business.” That was as much as I would give him.
“I’ll see you back to the house and then be off.”
He seemed to sense my desire for privacy, and I walked silently beside him. Frisco followed behind like an obedient puppy. I’d learned to ride as a child at my Aunt Charlotte’s, and I liked the looks of the big chestnut gelding. The night sounds of Ravenwood closed gently around us. The chirr of crickets was a comforting noise, reminding me again of happy childhood moments.
But the silence between us had stretched too long. “How long will you be working with the reenactment?”
“On and off through the summer, I suppose. I have a teaching arrangement at Mississippi College. Then…”
I felt him shrug beside me, and without being able to see, I knew that he was smiling. He was confident of his future, whatever it might prove to be.
“You’re from the South, aren’t you?” My curiosity was piqued.
“I’ve never been able to completely curb my accent.”
“And I should hope you wouldn’t try. Why would you want to sound as if you came from Illinois or Idaho?”
“A good question,” he said, “and one for which I don’t have an answer. Are you staying at Ravenwood alone? I ask because I’ll stop and check on you if you’d like.”
There was no pushiness in his question, only concern. Walking through the dark with him and the horse, I felt an unaccustomed peace. “I’d like that. I am alone.”
“Ravenwood is a big house. Don’t let the little idiosyncrasies unsettle you.”
“I’m not easily unsettled.” Through the heavy green of magnolia and oak leaves I could see the night-light that had been put up near the apartment door.
“An independent woman. I like that.”
“And I’d like to point out that you are a gentleman, and I like that.”
We laughed together as we walked to the kitchen door and I drew the key from the pocket
