life."
He realized he was treading on dangerous ground. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument. The day had been so pleasant. He wanted to keep it that way.
She studied him for a moment, her dark curls framed by that butternut bonnet. "Samuel," she suddenly asked him, "what exactly are your intentions concerning the abolitionist viewpoint? Do you advocate the methods of men like John Brown?"
He was caught off guard by her directness. He wondered for a moment if she somehow knew of Dr. Carter's friends. Did she know something of their history? Were they indeed radicals?
Deciding that couldn't possibly be so, he answered honestly, "I don't know what my intentions are at this moment, Julia, but I do know that holding people hostage, slave or free, is wrong."
She nodded slowly, contemplatively.
He was encouraged by the silence.
"Is that what has been bothering you?" he dared to ask. "Do you think I am going to run off with radicals and start my own war? That I would be willing to shoot other men to make my own point?"
"No," she said. "I know you would not do such. You don't want to fight."
His shoulders slumped. She knew him better than anyone yet when it came to this issue, she simply did not understand.
"Julia, it isn't that. I'"
Something over his shoulder captured her attention.Her face blanched and her eyes immediately widened in fear. Sam turned to see what she was looking at.
Two Federal soldiers were approaching.
"
Julia's knees were wobbly beneath her petticoats and her hands were shaking. She tried to breathe normally but the best she could do was grab small snatches of air. The soldiers approached the table. Their muskets glinted in the afternoon sun.
"What's in your barrel?" one of them asked.
"Cold water," Samuel replied. "Would you gentlemen care for a drink?"
They nodded gruffly.
Julia watched as he ladled out a cupful for them both. One drank readily. The other surveyed the table.
She wondered if the man somehow knew who was pro-Union and who was not. She was thankful Sally was not there. She feared what might happen if Stephen's letter was still in her pocket.
"We have bread, as well," Samuel said, "if you are hungry."
They helped themselves, dirty hands and all. One of the men grinned at her. Samuel either did not notice or did not care. He started conversing.
"Where are you gentlemen from?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Is that so? I went to school in Philadelphia."
Samuel may feel comfortable speaking with such men but she certainly did not. Their language was coarse. She did not like the way their eyes kept scouring the table, the way they kept looking at her.
Lord, help me.
One of the water barrels, the smaller of the two, was empty. As discreetly as she could, Julia picked it up andstarted for the church side door. She rounded the building, then stole a quick glance back.
The blue uniforms were still there.
The hour was almost through and the prayer meeting would dismiss at any moment. Julia decided to put away the one barrel then wait safely in the foyer for her parents.
She realized she had left her serving tray at the table but did not return to fetch it. When her father's carriage rolled from the churchyard, Samuel was still conversing with the soldiers.
What can he possibly be talking about? Her suspicions grew. She feared somehow he was revealing details from Stephen's letter and that the soldiers would soon descend upon an unsuspecting Confederate Army.
Returning home, Julia was in a fretful state. She took care of her afternoon chores then hurried to Sally's for the sewing circle.
Her friend was waiting for her at the front door.
"And how was the prayer meeting?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose, but where were you?"
"Father had a council meeting and I though it best to
He realized he was treading on dangerous ground. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument. The day had been so pleasant. He wanted to keep it that way.
She studied him for a moment, her dark curls framed by that butternut bonnet. "Samuel," she suddenly asked him, "what exactly are your intentions concerning the abolitionist viewpoint? Do you advocate the methods of men like John Brown?"
He was caught off guard by her directness. He wondered for a moment if she somehow knew of Dr. Carter's friends. Did she know something of their history? Were they indeed radicals?
Deciding that couldn't possibly be so, he answered honestly, "I don't know what my intentions are at this moment, Julia, but I do know that holding people hostage, slave or free, is wrong."
She nodded slowly, contemplatively.
He was encouraged by the silence.
"Is that what has been bothering you?" he dared to ask. "Do you think I am going to run off with radicals and start my own war? That I would be willing to shoot other men to make my own point?"
"No," she said. "I know you would not do such. You don't want to fight."
His shoulders slumped. She knew him better than anyone yet when it came to this issue, she simply did not understand.
"Julia, it isn't that. I'"
Something over his shoulder captured her attention.Her face blanched and her eyes immediately widened in fear. Sam turned to see what she was looking at.
Two Federal soldiers were approaching.
"
Julia's knees were wobbly beneath her petticoats and her hands were shaking. She tried to breathe normally but the best she could do was grab small snatches of air. The soldiers approached the table. Their muskets glinted in the afternoon sun.
"What's in your barrel?" one of them asked.
"Cold water," Samuel replied. "Would you gentlemen care for a drink?"
They nodded gruffly.
Julia watched as he ladled out a cupful for them both. One drank readily. The other surveyed the table.
She wondered if the man somehow knew who was pro-Union and who was not. She was thankful Sally was not there. She feared what might happen if Stephen's letter was still in her pocket.
"We have bread, as well," Samuel said, "if you are hungry."
They helped themselves, dirty hands and all. One of the men grinned at her. Samuel either did not notice or did not care. He started conversing.
"Where are you gentlemen from?"
"Pennsylvania."
"Is that so? I went to school in Philadelphia."
Samuel may feel comfortable speaking with such men but she certainly did not. Their language was coarse. She did not like the way their eyes kept scouring the table, the way they kept looking at her.
Lord, help me.
One of the water barrels, the smaller of the two, was empty. As discreetly as she could, Julia picked it up andstarted for the church side door. She rounded the building, then stole a quick glance back.
The blue uniforms were still there.
The hour was almost through and the prayer meeting would dismiss at any moment. Julia decided to put away the one barrel then wait safely in the foyer for her parents.
She realized she had left her serving tray at the table but did not return to fetch it. When her father's carriage rolled from the churchyard, Samuel was still conversing with the soldiers.
What can he possibly be talking about? Her suspicions grew. She feared somehow he was revealing details from Stephen's letter and that the soldiers would soon descend upon an unsuspecting Confederate Army.
Returning home, Julia was in a fretful state. She took care of her afternoon chores then hurried to Sally's for the sewing circle.
Her friend was waiting for her at the front door.
"And how was the prayer meeting?" she asked.
"Fine, I suppose, but where were you?"
"Father had a council meeting and I though it best to
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