Jordan's War - 1861 by B.K. Birch Read Free Book Online Page B

again to eat, and he didn’t
want to be the first one to whine about being hungry.
    He looked back at
Jake as they rode off. He grew smaller as they got farther away and Jordan
couldn’t decide if he could still see his lip curled down around his chin and
the sadness in his big brown eyes or if it was his own guilt playing with his
imagination. He felt sad, but it didn’t last long as they traveled down the
path to the turnpike.
    He kept repeating
in his head what Willow told him about the fabric: six yards of blue, two yards
of a blue plaid, six yards of green, not too dark, just medium, six yards of
white, no print, six yards of that gorgeous burgundy she’d seen at Marlins
Bottom, twelve pearl buttons, and don’t forget to memorize what the girls up there
were wearing. He knew Willow would never forgive him if he messed it up. She
even made him promise to pray to God to help him remember.
    The sun was just
coming into view to the east, but it was already getting hot. It seemed odd to
turn north on the main road, instead of their usual south, but it was all still
familiar to Jordan because this was the same pass they took at least once or
twice a year to Marlins Bottom.
    Five men on
horseback emerged from the shadows of the trees and approached the wagons the
moment they’d turned onto the main passage. They were dressed similar, in
varying shades of gray and all of them were armed.
    Soldiers !
He never thought they’d be so close to home. They rode side by side and looked
so distinguished, so noble, so. . . .
    Jordan gasped. One
of the soldiers was none other than that devil, Luke Vander. Four of them
stopped, including Luke, while one of them kept riding. Jordan figured this man
was their leader and studied him, looking for any characteristics which set
this man apart from the other three. He didn’t bother counting Luke – he was
just a stupid indigent.
    “Morning boys,”
Finnian said and stopped the wagon. Eamon stopped his behind Pa’s.
    “Morning sir,” the
man said. “I’m Sergeant Hummel, of the Lewisburg Home Guard and these men are
with me.”
    The other men
moved in closer to the wagons. Jordan stared at the ground. He could feel
Luke’s stare burning into the back of his head and even though he was a good
three feet away, Jordan could still smell his putrid breath.
    “Home Guard . . .
Lewisburg . . . What are you doing all the way up here?” Finnian asked and
looked at Jordan. Jordan shrugged.
    “Yes sir,”
Sergeant Hummel said. “There’s been Union activity up around Philippi and we’ve
been assigned to patrol this area.”
    “Philippi!”
Finnian laughed. “Hell son, you got the wrong end of the state. Philippi’s a
two day ride north.”
     “I understand
that sir,” the sergeant said. “I have my orders. We’ll need to search your
wagons.”
    “For what?”
Finnian asked.
    “We’ll need to
search them sir,” Sergeant Hummel said and offered no further explanation.
    Luke was the first
one off his horse and into the wagon. He pulled a large-handled hunting knife
from his belt and slit one of the sacks from top to bottom.
    “No need to cut it
son,” Finnian said. “All you got to do is open it from the top. They ain’t
fastened too tight for you, are they?”
    Luke sneered at
Finnian and slit another sack the same way. Fluffs of wool escaped the tightly
packed sack and floated off with the breeze.
    Finnian stood up,
jumped out of the wagon, and walked around to the back. He grabbed Luke’s arm,
the one that held the knife, before Luke was even aware he was out of his seat.
    “I ain’t going to
tell you again son,” Finnian said.
    Luke jumped down
and attempted to knock Finnian off his feet. Finnian twisted the knife out of
Luke’s hand and threw it on the ground next to him. Sergeant Hummel grabbed
Finnian by his shirt but he was too solid of a man to get a good hold on him.
Finnian shook him off and walked away.
    “You do that again,
sir, and I’ll have you