Iron Branch by Kelby Ouchley

Author:Kelby Ouchley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical fiction, civil war, native american, historical romance, louisiana, slavery, choctaw, vicksburg, women in civil war
Publisher: Kelby Ouchley

The next morning was the fourth of July. I felt lucky because of the number and because of the strange night before. Boats passed on the river all night, but the cannons remained silent. Soldiers in the Yankee camp shot fireworks into the dark sky, and the general scene was one of much activity and anticipation. I slept poorly and, wet from the heavy dew, rose two hours before dawn to tend overdue spiritual matters.

Between my campsite and the Yankees’, a small country church surrounded by cotton fields sat back from the road. Two giant cedars leaning over the path to the front door held their shadows close in the darkness when I went in to pray. To me, a place such as this petitions silence as a term of entry, and I trod lightly on the wooden steps to muffle their creaks. The door was ajar. I stepped into the sanctuary, seeing only as Chula did, and knew at once that I was not alone. A loud rapping noise rising from the altar froze me in place and launched my prayers prematurely. Though lacking thoughtful preparation, my appeals suffered not for gravity. In answer, the rapping stopped. I stepped forward and submitted a “hello” with propped-up boldness to the blackness. The clatter returned but quit abruptly when I halted. I moved, the racket commenced—I stopped, silence again. A force from Heaven pushed me then, shoved my shoulder blades, drove my legs on to the altar and the now wildly drumming clamor. I felt the letters carved into the front of the table—This Do In Remembrance Of Me. Hairy paws clutched my breasts. I cried for holy mercy and fell to my knees. Encouraged by my moans, the beast licked my neck and face as his tail thrashed a cadence on the altar leg.

The grayness of first light spilled through the open door to divulge a redbone hound overjoyed with his new-found company. In spite of the fright, I regained my senses after a while. If the Lord looked down on me during my requests, He was treated with a mighty peculiar sight. He likely does not get many opportunities to see a half-Indian girl sitting in a deacon’s chair, scratchin’ the ears of a half-starved dog, and praying for all she’s worth. God’s lesson that morning was strong on faith.

The walk from the church to the Yankee camp was short. Such was the commotion that I could not find the corporal again. Six steamboats were at the landing loading men and provisions. As many more were on the far bank or mid-stream. A great effort was being made to cross the Yankee camp over to the fortress that was indeed surrendering.

Anatilda had a red dress and matching berege talma that she often wore to town or church. She did not let the season interfere with her fondness for this eye-catching suit. I saw the flash of the dress as she gestured to Mink from the middle deck of a boat taking on hogsheads of flour.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.