BY: JAMANDEB

CHAPTER ONE: THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG

 The battle raged in the small valley.  Denise stayed in the large house on the hill in Gettysburg.  For three days she could hear the horrid sound of war in the valley.  Anabelle wanted to go out and tend to the wounded.  "No," Denise said to her young cousin, "Wait until the battle is over."  "It may be too late for them by then," Annabelle pleaded, "Please let me go and bring some soldiers back."  Her large eyes met Denise’s from under her crooked bonnet.  "All right," said the elder girl as Annabelle headed for the door, "But watch out for rebels!  And don't get shot!"

 Denise couldn't believe it.  She let her young cousin go out onto that battlefield looking for wounded.  Anabelle had always wanted to be a nurse but could never afford the schooling after her father died.  His brother, Denise’s father, followed him the next year and left the girls this house.  No one believed they were related.  Annabelle had soft golden hair, pretty blue eyes, and a sweet face.  Denise looked in the mirror at her plain freckled face and thick, wavy brown hair.  She attempted to brush it but it wasn't any use.  Soon, Anabelle returned with the first patient and some news.

 "The battle's over!" she said, "General Grant won!  But the field is covered with people.  Some dead, some alive.  I brought the first one I found."  She lifted up the soldier onto the first bed.  Her cousin did have some nurse training so she took care of him until Anabelle returned with the next one.  Soon, the house was filled with nineteen men and Anabelle returned with yet another, who was rather tall with a bloody arm and chest.  They tried to lay him on the bed but he kept yelling.  Finally, they laid him on his chest and found out why.  The seat of his pants was filled with buckshot.

 Denise tended the wounded man as Anabelle explained the situation.  "Half the men on the field weren't being taken by the Red Cross people," she said, "I don't know why but that's why I took them."  Denise knelt down at the head of the bed to tend to the man’s arm and chest and took a good look at his uniform.  "Anabelle!" she yelled jumping up, "These are Confederates!"  "Oh," said the other softly, "oops...Are we going to throw them out then?"  Denise looked into the eyes of the soldier.  They seemed to plead with her to let him stay.  "No," she said finally, "Go see if there's anyone else.  We still have three beds left."  The girl figured that Confederates had a place too.  "Just make sure no one finds out we're doing this."
 

 Denise heard a pounding on the door and opened it to find two soldiers.  The first was a Yankee and was carrying the other in his arms who was looking pretty bad.  "Come in," she said showing him a room, "I have room for him in here."  "Thanks," said the man, "You're sure you don't mind?  Uh...He is a...a.."  "Don't worry," Denise told him, "I've taken in quite a few Southerners...Does he need anything looked at?"  "No!" said the soldier quickly, "I'll take care of him."  "All right," she said, "How about you?"  "I'm fine," he said laying the Confederate on the bed, "Just my wrist." The girl looked at it and said, "It's just a sprain.  Wrap it up and rest it a bit."  She gave him some bandages and went to see who Anabelle just brought in.

 She was carrying a small man.  "He doesn't even have a uniform," she said handing him to Denise, "Just a pencil and notepad."  "An artist," Denise said, "He was probably sent to draw the battle."  He was unconscious with a nasty bump on his head but nothing else.  He was laid on the last bed and Annabelle didn't leave his side.  She felt some sort of attachment to the poor civilian.

 The girls had saved a lot of old beds and the house was now a small hospital with only two nurses.  The Yankee soldier was named Hartford and was from Connecticut.  They called him Hart.  He wouldn't let the girls look at the soldier he brought in himself and didn't tell them why.  The girls were somewhat suspicious of him but didn’t feel that they were in any position to do anything. Denise and Annabelle tended to the other Confederates until they were well enough to go home secretly.  Soon, there were only the Yankee, his patient, the artist, and Houston left.

 Houston was the soldier with the buckshot pants.  He blushed every time Denise had to change the bandage even though she covered most of it up and didn't see anything.  His story of what happened to him in the battle was quite baffling.  "Me and dis Yankee kept shootin' at each other," he said, "I told myself that if my side won the battle, he'd be my prisoner, but he got captured by one of our men the second day.  I know the guy who caught him too.  His name's Hank and I'm friends with his second cousin Luke.  Never liked Hank though.  Real jerk if you ask me.  He was the one who shot me in the butt.  Was trying to load his gun when it went off." The girl laughed softly.  "Wasn't funny then," he said, "Dat hurt like...well...like sitting in a bucket of carpet tacks."  "Sorry," she said still giggling.

 "Wish I knew who that Yankee was," he said, "I feel sorry for him...bein' captured by that bozo.  I wouldn’t have been so rough with him."  "What'd the Yankee look like?" asked Hart who just walked in.  Houston looked at him and said, "Weird lookin' guy...Fuzzy...curly hair stuck out of his head.  He had a funny face too."  "Yep," said Hart, "That's Pismo all right."  "Pismo?"  asked Houston, "You knew him?"  "Yup," said Hart, "Pismo Beach...came from California just to fight in the war...I saw him get captured...That Hank guy nearly shot me...Lucky I ducked...sprained my wrist trying to get Pismo off the horse."  They seemed to get along pretty well for a Yankee and a Confederate.  Denise left the room thinking, "That guy is pretty good-looking, for a rebel."  Anabelle was still at the artist's bedside.  "I want to be here when he wakes up," she said, "I want him to know who took him in."  "You have a heart of gold dear," Denise told her, "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

CHAPTER TWO: HEADING HOME

 The wounded soldier laid on that bed thinking but never said a word.  Couldn't have, much too weak.  Hartford came in to rebandage the soldier’s leg.  It was surprising he hadn't told anyone his patient’s secret.  He just smiled and worked.

 The bedridden soldier remembered being on that battlefield with gunshots in the leg, arm, and shoulder.  Then, this strange Yankee found the crippled body, tossed it over his shoulder, and took it into the woods.  He had to put it down, still being alive and hitting him so much with a good arm and kicking with a good leg.  Literally would have rather died in battle then have anyone tend to the wounds.  He had first tried to find where the blood on the shirt was coming from by feeling the chest and looking for a wound.  Instead he felt something else which surprised him.  He must have figured out that she wasn't a man at all, but a girl in disguise.  What surprised the girl was that he didn't say anything and kept looking for the wound.  After wrapping up her shoulder by ripping off his shirtsleeve, her arm with his other sleeve, and her thigh with her pant leg, he had picked the girl up and taken her to the strange house where she was now.

 The girl recognized the name of the another Confederate in the house.  She had met Houston only once at a party back home.  It was the party where her sister, Savanna, had got engaged to Hank.  She remembered Luke being an old schoolmate, who had just returned from Texas with a bunch of his friends.  She wished she could talk to Houston but didn't dare to.  She was lucky enough that the Yankee didn't tell anyone about her being a girl.  She figured that he just didn't want anyone to ask HOW he found out.

 The girl felt she had to get better and go home to Atlanta.  She wanted to see Savanna, whom she knew didn't want to get married to Hank. She figured that Hank must have done something illegal in the war that could get her sister out of it.  She remembered something else which made her sort of not want to go home.  Hank had a brother, Colby, who was a real coward.  The girl saw him run away from the front lines but he wasn't caught.  She almost turned him in, but she could remember very well what stopped her from doing so.

"I know you know what I did Ezra," he had said.
"That right," she had told him, "And I'm turning you in you skunk!"
"I wouldn't do that if I was you."
"Why not?"
"Cuz I know your secret."
"What secret?"
"You know what secret, Esmeralda Davenport!"
"How did you...?!"
"I caught ya undressin'"
"You peeping Tom!"
"I didn't see nothin' like that."
"Course not!...I know better."
"But ya didn't know enough...and you better keep quiet."
"That's blackmail!"
"Dat's right...And if you say one word `bout me, I'll tell everybody `bout you."
"But..."
"And den no one'd ever want to marry up with ya."
"But..."
"And if ya don't get married.."
"It's the convent."
"So you're gonna marry me!"
"WHAT!!?"
"You heard me...me or nobody...Or I'm tellin'"

 "I hate him," she thought as the Yankee wrapped up her arm, "I hate his guts."  she started to cry.  Yankee wiped her tears away saying, "I don't know what's wrong, but crying won't help.  You just rest, ok?"  Ezra nodded.  He had told her that his name was Hartford, but she thought that was a silly name.  "How come so many folks `round here are named after cities?" she thought, "Savanna, Houston, Hartford, when I get my voice back, I'm callin' you Yankee.  You're always gonna be Yankee to me."

 When Ezra did get her voice back she figured she was well enough to go home.  She decided to sneak out so Houston wouldn't see her or recognize her.  She scribbled out a note:

Dear Yankee,
 I think I'm well enough to go home so that's where I'm headed.  Thanks for takin' care of me and for....you know what I mean.  Tell anybody and I'll come after you.  Wish you the best of luck.

            Ezra

 She left that big house in Gettysburg the day that General Lee surrendered.  "We would have won," she thought, "If Lincoln hadn't freed all the slaves.  That’s what gave the North the better cause."

 When she got to Atlanta, the first thing she did was buy some proper clothes.  She returned to her father’s plantation to find Savanna crying on the front porch.  When she saw Ezra, she threw her arms around her sister’s neck.  "Oh Ezra!" she cried, "You're alive!  I thought you were killed!"  "Don't be ridiculous," Ezra told her, "It takes more than a war to get the best of me."  "Come on," Savanna said pulling her to the barn, "I have to show you something."

 In the barn, there was yet another Yankee.  He was slumped over in the corner in a mess of blood.  Savanna lifted up his torn uniform, to show the bandages underneath.  The girl had spread blood over it so it wouldn't show.  Ezra didn't get it.  "Hank brought him," Savanna told her. "Took him prisoner."

"He didn't turn him over to...?"
"No.  Personal glory he said.  He wants to watch him die...and          we'll be married as soon as he does."
"So, You can't let him find out that your taking care of him."
"I can't let him die.  I heard him say something...it sounded like      a name...what was it?...Pismo?...That’s it!...Pismo Beach!"
 

CHAPTER THREE: A PRISONER OF WAR
 

Houston thought, “That Denise sure was nice to me.”  He rode on the train to Atlanta thinking about her.  When he got there, the city was practically in ruins.  "Sherman," he thought, "That #%*@ Yankee!"  At least the Davenport Plantation was still standing.  Luke met him there and was mighty glad to see him.

"Gee whiz Houston, thought you was dead!" he laughed.
"Almost was," he said, "A real nice lady took me in though."
"Where at?"
"Gettysburg."
"Ain't that up North?"
"Yup."
"You was takin' in by a Yankee girl?"
"Wasn't just me...She took in a lot of us."
"Well.....Ain't dat the nicest Yankee I ever heard of.  Was she         purty?"

 Houston sighed, "Denise was the purdiest lady I ebber met.  She had the sweetest eyes, nicest face, the best figure”  He continued to babble on about the lovely Yankee girl.  "Man," said Luke, "You sure got it."

"What?"
"Sprin' Fevah.  Youze is in love with a Yankee girl!  Hoo Nelly dis is gonna be interestin'"

 “Luke is right,” Houston thought.  “I probably wouldn't see Denise again.  I can still think about her though.”  There was a big party that night to celebrate Hank and Colby coming back from the war safely.  Houston walked around, renewing acquaintances with everybody, when he saw the last person he expected to see.  Hartford was outside the window sneaking around.  He noticed Houston watching him and put his finger to his lips.  Hart crawled though the bushes to the window.

"What're you doin' here?" Houston asked him.
"Pismo,  He's here."
"Your war buddy?  But the war's over."
"He must be here.  There aren't any records of him being taken          prisoner...or of being set free."
"I'll see if I kin find out anythin'.  You just lay low."
"Appreciate it,"

 Houston tried to look for anyone who might know about Hank keepin' a prisoner or what he did with him.  "Savanna," he thought, "She's engaged to him.  She oughta know something."  He found the younger daughter of ol' man Davenport with her sister, Esmeralda.  Everyone said that Savanna was the purdier of the two.  She had long, black, curls goin' down her back and always wore the nicest dresses.  The elder daughter, on the other hand, had cut her frizzy brown hair down to her chin for some reason and didn't dress as fancy.  Her dress covered up more than her sister's did and down south, this is very strange.

 "Hello Houston," sang Savanna as he approached them, "Haven't seen you in a while."  He could tell she was faking bein' cheerful.  "You remember my sister don't you?" she laughed, "Of course you do.  Have you just returned from the war?"  He nodded and said, "Shore did.  Real bloody war it was."  "Were you at Gettysburg?" asked Esmeralda, "Heard that was the worst."  "It was," he said, "In fact, I saw Hank take in a prisoner there."  The girls looked at each other and then at him.  "Really?" asked Savanna, "Oh Hank is SOOO brave."  "Funny though," he told them, "That prisoner was never reported...or released."  "How do you know?" asked Esmeralda. "I looked into it," he said, “A friend of mine works for the prison camp and says that more Yankees were captured than actually reported to the officials. I asked him if he got any from Hank and he said no.  I just want to know what happened to Pismo.”  The girls looked at each other and then at him before they both said, "Pismo?"

 As Houston was directed to the barn, he signaled for Hart to follow them secretly.  The girls pointed out a bloody heap in the corner and said that it said the name “Pismo Beach”.  As they left, Savanna explained how Hank wanted the prisoner to die before they got married.  "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of," he told her, "You know, he can get in real trouble for holding a prisoner after the war is over."  "Oh please don't tell on him," Savanna pleaded, "I'd have to find someone else to marry."  "A pretty little thing like you?" he laughed, "Wouldn't be too hard.  Do you really want to marry that guy?"  She sighed, "Not really.  I've been secretly taking care of Pismo...but not just because of Hank.  I don't like seeing anyone suffer like that.  The other day I saw Hank stab him in the leg with a pitchfork!"  Houston looked over his shoulder and watched Hart carry Pismo out of the barn.  "Don't worry," he told the girls, "He won't be suffering anymore."
 CHAPTER FOUR: THE ROAD TO RECOVERY

 Hart took Pismo back to the lady in Gettysburg.  "I don't know why you brought him here," Denise asked, "But I'm glad you did."  "The other hospitals are all filled up," Hart told her, "Besides, I ain't got no money."  She smiled, examined Pismo, and said puzzled,

"It looks like he's already been tended to...How did that happen?" "Oh, I think it was that Southern belle.  I guess she was keeping       him in her barn."
"In this condition?"
"I think it was her fiancé that was keeping him there."
"And she felt sorry for him?"
"I doubt it...she said that she had to marry the guy as soon as         Pismo was dead."
"Oh dear."

After Denise left, Pismo woke up.

"Am I dead?" he asked, "Is this heaven?"
He looked at Hart.
"Gee I guess not."
Hart laughed.
"How are you feeling?"
"Am I out of that barn?"
"Yes."
"I feel great.  Where am I then?"
"Gettysburg."
"I feel sick."
"The war's over."
"Oh, in that case, I feel better...what about that angel?"
"Oh, the girl that took care of you?"
"To each his own."
"She's back in Atlanta."
"Now I feel sick again."
"Oh come on Pismo...she just did that so she wouldn't have to marry      that guy."
"The one with the pitchfork?"
"Huh?...I dunno...She just would've had to marry some guy after you      were dead."
"The guy with the pitchfork."
"So she kept you alive so she wouldn't have to...That's all."
"The guy with the pitchfork."

 Hart didn't know what it was about the pitchfork, until Denise showed him the wound in his leg.  "You were stabbed with a what?" she asked Pismo.  "A PITCHFORK!" he cried, "That guy was trying to kill me....A slow and painful death...I would of if it weren't for that angel."  "I told ya Pismo," Hart said to him, "She only helped you so she wouldn't have to marry the guy with the pitchfork."  "An angel in disguise?" he asked, "I don't believe it."

 Hart sighed and left the room with Denise.  “I can't take him home,” he told her. “I don't really have one and it’s to risky to go California.  Pismo'd never make it.”  So she let them stay.  Pismo kept talking about the "angel" who saved him, and he couldn't be convinced that she wasn't perfect.  Hart finally gave up.  Pretty soon, Pismo was going to have the last laugh.
 CHAPTER FIVE: EVIDENCE

 Hank was furious when Pismo disappeared.  He tried to blame Savanna but she let him search through everything she had.  "Well," he said, "In that case...We shall be married...next week."  Savanna gasped, "So soon?"  "I shall not waste any time," he said, "We shall marry and then...off to Montgomery."  The bride was so distressed, she had to talk to Esmeralda, who was the only person she trusted now.  "I have and idea," the sister finally said.

"What?"
"Houston."
"Oh...what about him?"
"He can get you out of this."
"How?"
"I dunno....But he'll think of something."

 Houston seemed trustworthy enough.  He DID help Pismo escape, at least they thought he had something to do with it.  He left for Gettysburg after the girls explained the situation.  Savanna had no idea why but her sister did.

"He's getting Pismo."
"Why?"
"So he can prove that Hank broke the law."
"But...Then what?"
"I dunno...But Dad won't let you marry a jailbird.”

 The plan was perfect, but they couldn't stall the wedding much.  Savanna prayed that Houston would come through with Pismo.  On the day of the wedding she had tears streaming down my face as she walked down the aisle with her father.  Hank was wearing an evil grin.  The minister was saying, "If anyone feels that these two should not be joined, let him speak now or...."  He didn't get to finish, for at that moment, the doors flew open, and Houston called out, "I OBJECT!"

 "On what grounds?" yelled the father, very annoyed.  "This man is a criminal," Houston rang out, "He has kept a prisoner of war and tortured him during times of peace.  Which is against....."
He rattled on about what the law said.  Hank denied it and said that there was no proof.  Houston waved his hand, and a strange man limped into the room.  He was clean and neat but was walking on a crutch.  "I am Pismo," he said in a magnificent voice, "Pismo Beach.  I was kept in a barn since Gettysburg for months.  That man (he pointed at Hank) struck me and kicked me and even stabbed me until I was near death.  I only managed to escape when this man (he nodded to Houston) helped one of my friends find me.  And I only managed to survive all that time when this angel (he looked at Savannah with eyes that made her want to kiss him) secretly took care of my wounds and gave me nourishment."

 A judge was present at the wedding and a trial was held.  Hank was found guilty when Esmeralda brought in the pitchfork, which still had blood on it and matched the wounds on Pismo's leg.  Hank was arrested and taken away as Mr. Davenport stood there, dumbfounded.  "Wait a minute," he said, "What am I to do about this wedding?"  "How about Savanna marry someone else?" suggested the girl’s mother.  "What a brilliant idea," the father beamed as he dragged Savanna up to the altar.

 He made an announcement that his daughter was up for grabs if anyone should want her.  She was never so embarrassed.  The guests whispered, giggled, and conferred among themselves.  Finally, Pismo hobbled up to the man.  Savanna couldn't hear what they were saying, for Pismo whispered quite a bit.  Her father laughed and slapped him on the back, "You're quite a man Pismo.  I like you, even if y'are a Yankee.  It's a deal."  He then looked at her, laughed again and then walked over to  her mother.  She looked at Pismo.  His face was hung down.

"What did you say to him?" she asked.
He looked up and then down again.
"I...I..uh."
"What?"
"I asked if I could..."
"If you could what?"
"Marry you."

 She didn't know what to say.  He just stood there with his head looking at the ground.  "Let's see," she thought.  "On one hand, I barely know him...on the other hand, he saved me from a horrible marriage...and he MUST love me...he did ask..."  She put her finger under his chin, lifted his face and kissed him.
 CHAPTER SIX: TROUBLE UP NORTH
 

 Annabelle came running in with a telegram.  "Look!" she said,  "Read it!"

Denise
stop
Pismo and Savanna are now married
stop
Thanks for your help
Houston

 Denise sighed in relief and showed it to Hart.  "How about that?" he laughed.  "Ol' Pismo's gotten married."  He started talking to Denise and the younger girl slinked away.

 Annabelle went into the artist's room.  He had been in a coma for all this time but she refused to give up on him.  She sat on his bed and stroked his hair.  "Something is different in here," She thought.  She looked at the endtable and noticed the notepad.  It no longer showed the basic scene of the battle but was opened to another page.  On this page was the outline of a person, a female, with long hair in pigtails.  She saw that his pencil were disrupted too.  "Good Morning," a soft voice said.  She looked at the man and he was smiling.

“How long have you been awake?”
“Not long,  I drew that yesterday morning.  No one’s been in here       since then.”
“What’s it supposed to be?”
“You of course.  All I could see when I was asleep was a blond girl
 taking care of me.”
“You were dreaming.”
“But it was a lovely dream.  And it came true.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.  Annabelle went downstairs and noticed Sheriff Washburn talking to Denise. Her cousin seemed upset and Annabelle stood behind her.  “I’m sorry Miss Bradshaw,” he said.  “But I’ll have to take your house.  There’s only one other option.”  “Anything,” Denise pleaded.  “I can’t lose this house.  It’s been in our family for years.”  “Then,” said the man,  “You’ll have to get married.”  Denise moaned and buried her face in her hands.  Both girls understood completely.  Women weren’t allowed to own property.  When Denise’s father died the previous year the girls were allowed to stay for six months before their home was taken away, and now that time was up.  Unless a man joined the family, they’d be on the streets.  “You know Miss Bradshaw,” grinned the Sheriff, “My son has taken quite a liking to you.  He’s been asking for your hand for quite some time now.”  “With all due respect Mr. Washburn,” Denise said,  “I cannot go against my standards and those set by my father, and under no circumstances will I change my mind.”  “The circumstances have changed for you Denise,” laughed the man.  “I have found proof of you harboring rebels.”  Both girls gasped.  It was all over now. “If you refuse and are sent to the streets,” said the sheriff, “My son and I can slander your name so badly that you two will be avoided like rabid dogs.  Maybe you don’t care for yourself, but your pretty little cousin ain’t got much future in that.”  With that he walked off and Denise slammed the door.

 There was nothing they could do.  Denise sat there weeping and Annabelle noticed the artist coming downstairs.  “I heard everything,” he said.  “Did you really house rebels?”  Denise nodded.  “You two have got to be the kindest girls I ever met,” he said.  “How can that man do such a thing?”  Denise looked up and saw who was talking.  “Oh,” she said.  “You’re awake...Mr.?”  “Epperson,” said the artist.  “David Epperson.  I’d like to thank you ladies for letting me stay here.  Is the war over?”  “Yes,” said Denise.  “The Union is saved, but we’re in hot water.”  “I see,” said David.  “But what can we do?” Annabelle asked him.  “Well,” said David.  “It seems to me one of you has to be married.” “But D.W. Washburn?” Denise squealed.  “No one said you had to marry him,” David pointed out.  “Is there anyone else you might have in mind?”  Denise thought about that one and sighed, “No.  It’d never work.  He wouldn’t do it.” Annabelle could tell whom she was talking about and immediately disagreed.  Denise went into the kitchen.

“Who?” David asked Annabelle.  “Who is she talking about?”
“Houston,” she said.
“Someone in Houston?”
“His name is Houston.”
“He’s from Texas?”
“Yes.  He was a Confederate soldier we brought in.”
“I see...That’s why your cousin doesn’t think it would work.”
“But it would!  I know it would.”

With that she went to the cupboard and wrote out a note.  “Go upstairs and rest,” she told David.  “I’m sending a telegram.”  She sent the telegram, but David did anything but rest.

 A couple days later, Sheriff Washburn was coming up the path now, along with D.W. and Pastor Don.  “Time’s up Missy,” said the Sheriff.  “You’ve got one more chance. You can be married right here to my son, or you’re off on the streets.”  Just then, a lanky man rode up the Sheriff and said, “If that little lady’s marrying anybody, she’s marrying me.”  The sheriff stared as Houston dismounted.  “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded.  “A woman got the right to decide on her husband don’t she?” Houston asked the pastor.  “Well,” said Pastor Don.  “I guess, if her father’s gone, it’s up to the eldest surviving relative.”  “But I am the eldest relative,” Denise said staring at Houston.  “Than what’s your decision?” the pastor asked her.  She took a look at D.W. Washburn and then at Houston.  “I’ll get married,” she said.  “To Houston.”  With that she embraced him and started to cry.

Denise and Houston were about to be married right there, but David came outside and told them to at least come into the house.  They entered to find streamers on the walls, a podium and Bible set up, and even a cake.  It was as if the place was expecting a wedding and it looked absolutely splendid.  “You can’t get married outside on a day like this,” David said pointing at the gray sky.  “Miss Annabelle warned me of an upcoming wedding so I set this up.” “But how?” Denise asked.  “I have three sisters back home in Memphis,” he told them, “And I’ve designed weddings for all of them.  One in a chapel, one in a house, and one in a neighborhood grill and bar.  Linda always was kind of strange. Compared to that, this was a piece of cake.”

At a simply wonderful wedding, David was appointed the best man.  “I don’t know who you are,” Houston told him.  “But you’ve given my bride a wedding to remember.”  “Don’t you remember?” Denise laughed.  “This is the artist who was knocked unconscious at Gettysburg.”  “Oh yeah,” said Houston, looking David over.  “You were the little guy in the room next to mine.  The one that little Annabelle wouldn’t give up on.”  David looked at the blushing girl. “Oh yes,” said Diane.  “I almost gave you up for dead, but not dear Annabelle.  She wouldn’t let me.”  “Well,” David said to the blond, “It seems I owe you my life.”  “I didn’t want to tend to the soldiers,” she said.  “They all smelled like blood and war.  But you were different.”  “They wouldn’t let me join,” said David.  “I was too short.  That’s why I got a job drawing battles.  I was just sitting there when some crazy guy rode by and his horse kicked me in the head.”  “Enough of this,” said Pastor Don.  “Let’s have a wedding.”

After Denise and Houston were married they all decided to take a vacation to Atlanta to visit their friends.  David felt no need to return to Memphis right away and came with them, saying he still owed Annabelle a great debt.  Later, he would find the only way he could possibly repay it.

 CHAPTER SEVEN: BLACKMAIL

Ezra was somewhat surprised to find Houston showing up with a new wife.  “It seems to me,” she told him.  “That everybody’s getting married.”  She was hoping his bride wouldn’t recognize her. If anybody discovered that she had fought in the Civil War, on the side that lost, she’d never get married.  She didn’t really want to, men didn’t appeal to her much.  She found most to be jerks.  This reminded her of what Colby had told her.  “Me or nobody,” echoed in her head.  “You’re gonna marry me or nobody, or I’m tellin’.”

They had a big dinner party to celebrate Houston getting hitched.  Ezra noticed Colby sitting near her father and warming up to him.  She started to get nervous.  Then her worst fears were confirmed as her father stood up to announce that Colby had just asked for her hand in marriage.  Everyone applauded and looked at the new bride.  She didn’t look up and excused herself.

Out on the porch, Ezra let herself cry. A hand touched her shoulder and she looked up, expecting to see Colby’s evil grin.  Instead she saw Hart, the Yankee.  “What are you doing here?” she growled.  “I should be asking you that,” he said.  “You’ve just been proposed to and you ran off.”  “You wouldn’t blame me if I told you about that guy,” she said.  “He knows doesn’t he?” Hart said.  “About what?” she asked.  She knew full well what he was talking about, but she had to make sure.  “He knows,” Hart said again.  “And if you don’t marry him, he’ll tell your father.”  She sighed, “If it becomes public, I’d be disgraced.  I’ll be sent to a convent.  I’m not even Catholic.  I saw him running away from the front lines and couldn’t report him.  I can’t marry a coward.  I’d marry a Yankee before him.” Hart’s eyes lit up and he gripped her shoulders and said sternly, “You’re going to have to tell your father...yourself.”

“What!?”
“Tell him.  Tell him everything.”
“But why?”
“Tell him the truth and everything will fall into place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

So she trusted the Yankee.  She had to wait awhile before she got up enough courage to have a talk with her father.  This strange little guy called David kept asking her what she wanted in her wedding.  She told him she didn’t care.  He just shrugged and continued decorating the church for the event.  She felt disgusted but didn’t say anything.  “They can do it however they want,” Ezra said to herself.  “I’m not getting married to that guy.”  It was a few days before the wedding when she knocked on the door of her father’s study.  “Come in,” he said.  “Esmeralda, darling.  What can I do for my lovely daughter?”  “Papa,” She said.  She hadn’t called him that since She was a child.  “I have to tell you something...about Colby.”

“What about him?”
“Well...In the war, he ran away from the front lines.”
“What?!”
“He’s a coward Papa!”
“I see...You can’t marry a coward anymore than Savanna could marry      a criminal...But how did you know find out?”
“Well...I was there.”
“Where?”
“At the front lines.”
“When!?”
“Remember when I left to visit Aunt Patsy for a few months?  I lied Papa.  I dressed like a man so I could go to war.”

Her father lurched back in his chair, exasperated and spoke after a while.  “So,” he said sternly.  “You’re telling me that you went to war?”
“Yes.”
“Dressed as a man?”
“Yes.”
“My daughter is a crossdresser?”
“The war is over now.  Colby found out I was there and said that if I reported him being a coward AND that if I didn’t marry him, he would tell everyone about me, and no one would marry me if he did.”

Her father pondered this awhile.  “I’m sorry dear,” he said finally.  “But I can’t let word of this get out.  Pack your things.”  Ezra hung her head and went to her room.

She pounded her fist to the wall.  “Trust me,” she thought.  “Ha!  Everybody knows Yankees can’t be trusted.”  She was heartbroken.  “Sure, I dressed in men’s clothes and joined the Army,” she thought. “So what if I’m a tomboy and hate wearing dresses.  I still want to get married.  It never occurred to me before, but I do.  I didn’t want to get married before, not ever.  Not when Colby threatened me.  But I do now.  I want children.  I want a man to take care of. Not just any man.  The man I want is...”  She stopped herself.  “Yankee,” she thought.  “That must be it.  He’s the only decent man I’ve ever met, not counting Dad of course.  He didn’t tell my secret.  He promised me a way out of this.  Maybe, if I wait, just a little longer.”

A knock came to the door.  “Esmeralda,” said Savanna.  “Papa wants you to come to dinner now.”  The girl held her breath and went downstairs .  She had to sit at her father’s right.  Colby was at his left. From him there was Hart, Pismo, Houston, and her mother at the other end, then Annabelle, Diane, Savanna, and herself.  Her father stood up and made his speech, one that would change her opinion of him entirely.

“My dear family,” he said.  “We are all aware of a wedding to take place tomorrow, but some information has been brought to my attention that must not be overlooked.”  Everyone looked at each other and he continued.  “It seems that my daughter’s fiancee’ has a debt to society (Colby jumped) for his running away from the front lines during the War Between the States.  (Colby tried to say something) It also seems that our beloved daughter, Esmeralda, was there to see this event and was blackmailed into keeping it secret and also into marrying this coward. (Colby jumped out of his seat but Hart dragged him back down and kept him quiet.)  She was told that if she reported this information, that he would make public the fact that she was at the front lines. (The mother gasped) dressed as a soldier. (The mother nearly fainted)  But all is not lost.  Esmeralda, brave as she is, confessed to me everything that she has done as well as the doings of this coward.  I’d like to present to everyone now, Esmeralda’s new fiancee’.”

It was her turn to jump.  A fiancee’ meant she was still getting married, but to whom?  At that point, some police officers came in and her father instructed them to take Colby away. Everyone’s place at the table moved and the empty chair was given to David, who, not being directly related, wasn’t invited to eat with them before.  Ezra didn’t know how he knew there would be a place for him but he was welcomed just the same.  For a minute, she was afraid HE was the new fiancé, but David simply sat down and her father continued his speech.  Hartford was standing up now and was smiling at her.  “This young man,” her father announced.  “Has just asked for Esmeralda’s hand in marriage.”

After dinner, she stood on the patio with Hart. “I said you could trust me,” he said.  “I guess you were right,” she confessed. He took her hand, “You don’t mind marrying me?  You did say you’d rather marry a Yankee.”  “Of course not,” she said, looking at him. “I mean...not just any Yankee.  It had to be you.”  A long awaited kiss followed that.

 Meanwhile, David and Annabelle were looking over the church.  Annabelle sighed, “I guess you’ll have to tear it down.”  “Why?” asked David.

“I heard the bride say that she wanted to get married in the chapel
 across the street.”
“She never told me that.”
“Well when you were asking, she didn’t want to get married at all       and didn’t care.”
“She never told me anything, so I made this the way I wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I don’t know what the bride want’s, I make the wedding as if        I’m the one getting married.”
“But you’re not getting married, she is.”
“Who’s say’s I’m not?”
“You’re getting married?”
“Perhaps, I hate to see such a good job go to waste.”
“But...Who?”
“Who do you think?”
“I dunno.  I’ve only known you for, how long?”

 David looked at her, “It seems like I’ve known you forever.  You’re just like my sister.”  Annabelle was taken aback, “Is that a good thing?”  David laughed, “You’re so much like Sarah.  She was one of the best friends I had.  Now if you were like Anita or Linda, we probably wouldn’t get along so well.  Linda actually wanted to get married in a church, but her husband wanted the Grill and Bar.”  Annabelle sighed and looked around, “It really is a lovely church.  I wouldn’t mind being married here.”  David took her hand and slipped a ring on her finger, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 One wedding was held at a chapel and once it was over, all the guests were invited to another across the street.

And so all of them were married, to Yankees.  It seemed strange.  Pismo took Savanna back to California with him, once he got his health back.  David took Annabelle to Memphis where he started his own business in interior decorating.  As for the rest of them, Houston and Denise live in the house in Gettysburg, and Hartford and Ezra live in another in Atlanta.

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