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Red Oak
By : DarkDavea
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 1346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-Red Oak
- 2-Maggie
- 3-Parsons'
- 4-Away
- 5-Elliot
- 2
- 3
- 4
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. I do not own Twilight, and I do not make any money from these writings.

~~~ I already recieved a review for my first two chapters, Thank you. i had these all stored up and I have a chance to fianally post them so here you go.
~~~

Whitlock Homestead, Ellis County Texas, September 11th, 1861.

Monday Morning was about to be upon the little two story house we lived in. The sky still dark but caramel hues were slowly becoming more and more dominate from beyond the pasture.

I put up my things and rolled my bed, shaved, though I had not done so all week, and combed my hopelessly tangled blond curls. Abigail had beat me down stairs and fixed a breakfast of bacon and eggs which I put down without too much conversation, I hoped she had forgotten all about today and I wasn’t about to remind her. she continued on about her daily routine with little to do or any notion letting on to me her being any the wiser.

On my way out the door I grabbed my saddle bag and Cavalry Hat. Determined to go out undetected I waited to put my boots on until I was in the stable. Anna was already stirring and ready for the ride. It took less time to get her ready than it did to get myself. The sun peaked up over the chicken coup, visible from the back entrance under the loft and I mounted up in it golden embrace. The thought of the day giving its grace to me this early for told a long day. Once again not needing to re adjust myself, my military nature came back to me at once when I placed one hand with the reins on the horn and the other on the butt stock of my Carbine. Anna wouldn’t run this one down. She knew when to play and when to act with dignity.

I had not worn my officer’s uniform in some time. Now it was kept close in the saddle bag I had along with my drawing book and charcoal.

The trot three miles took my by Margaret’s aunt’s, where I had spent the past week tending to the little things, and feasting on the endless supply of sandwiches and pink lemonade. The smell of jasmine and honey in the air made is so hard not to stop. She was cooking again. Something I would desperately miss if this meeting turned out with the implications I had assumed. But I knew if I had that there would be absolutely no stopping her from continuing on the rest of the way to town. This I had to do alone.

Red Oak’s town hall jutted out of the town square as a tan spire from the living ocean of bodies alive with the blue uniform of the CSA. The whole of the grounds were covered and near packed with people from all over the county and those nearby as well.

Corporals and Privates amassed to talk friends and family into enlisting before the conscript effected them, Sergeant and Officers meet with various low level land owners in hopes of gaining fiscal support.

The old men sat around with the young uniforms talking of the ‘old wars’, the old uniforms talking with the young men about honor, integrity, and a good wage. Mothers and Daughters both supportive with bake sales and care packages, and reprehensible to the idea of war courage.

It was much like a harvest market when everyone would come together from all over Ellis to barter for the winter. Only this time the peddlers were recruiters and Quartermasters. Different tents representing different factions of the Confederate States of America’s military force; the Texas militias the marines, the navy, and of course the Confederate States Army, CSA.

“Lieutenant Whitlock.” The voice undeniably that of my Old First Sergeant, being gruff and broken with the whiskey.

“First Sergeant,” I reached my hand down to his off white glove and he took mine between his bear sized paws. “Much too long a time away from the rifle.” I commented.

“You or me?” he asked as I dismounted chuckling and wafting me over with his obvious intoxication.

I lifted his hand that was about to unhook the flask from his belt. “A little of both I think. Are you here with the boys?”

“Naw, they’ve relieved me of that duty, I’m here to sort these potential shave tails.”

“And a finer man they could not ask for the job.”

“Sir?” his eyes twinkled to remembrance. “did ye not give yer command up?” Jutting his stubby finger at my Black Cap

“I did Top, I’m here because I have heard the Colonel been calling my name since Austin.” Trying to sound more important than I had any reason to.

“Indeed he ‘as., hope ya don’t mind, a gave em a thinger two to consider.” He tipped the top off his flask and downed a swig. Tipping him self a step or two back in the process

“Well, Top, I won’t keep you from your duties.” Indicating, for the most part, his guard post over the whiskey barrel/card table.

“Nor I you from yurs Sir. Taker easy will ya?”

“You to. Mind you, Mrs. Williams will not take kindly to me if she heard I let you to the drink again.”

He grumbled something indiscernible and went back on to the conversation over the barrel I found him at, as though I had not shown up at all. Top was a happy drunk, until something bothered him enough to not want to notice. I knew when to use that to my advantage, both use of his aggression and persistent avoidance.

The crowed was full of various Soldiers and Troopers I had met over the past 2 years I was in service, some under, most over my command or met in passing. A handshake here and there, a pat on the back, a couple ‘good to see you’s and more than a fairs share of ‘see you soon’s. Not exactly what my mother would want to hear. All the while I made an attempt to get my face out there to be seen again, but continuing with my primary focus.

The grounds in front of the city hall had a large tent to represent each of the major factions present and one for Colonel Parsons the Senior Military Leader, which I could make out from the various conversations to be the one next to shade tree and stable tent.

The feelings I got from everyone were mostly of awed hero worship for him. but more than a few came across as scared. The recruiters asked mothers and fathers to sign off their babies who were already speaking the common catch phrases of their cavalry trooper friends. Their remorse covered by the fatherly way they promised to take care of the babe’s like their own. Various incongruous feelings and sentiments lead to discussion and less often than not quarrels, be they of various levels of conflic. The Sergeants and Corporals who have already seen battle felt the edginess of the crowds and said so, habitually more then necessary. The officers calm and collected disrupted a few of the impending debacles. But there was and always will be more enlisted men willing to fight then Officers with a cool enough head to persuade them otherwise.

“I’ll not have my Son go to war for this country.” Steven McMurtree yelling at a local boy turned CSA Recruiter. Steven had seen his fair share, He lost his father to a raiding Indian faction while they were both defending the same outpost in north western Texas, on the frontier.

“He’s a grown man, Steven, and if he wants to fight for his beliefs who are you to tell him he can’t?” I didn’t recognize the Soldier, his brown eyes were near in flames with the fury of pent up stress. His hands shook and his lips clenched when he was not speaking.

“I’m his God forsaken father that who. And you’ll call me by the respectable name of Mister if you please.” The heat was boiling up as other hesitant father of a recruit rallied to his aid.

“You’ll not be taking my son either you reaper.” The man only assisted in adding to the problem of out-of-handedness.

“He’s 16, Mister McMurtree, and in all other rights a man. All of us have to contribute if we plan on maintaining our independence.” I felt the Sergeant trying his level best to maintain his cool, but you could trip over the tension in the air if you were not paying attention.

“The North needs our Cotton, our tobacco, our crops. This war won’t last the winter and our independence will be recognized by the need of exports.” The man mad a fairly decent argument. Be if flawed by the fact that, what the union wanted was to not have to pay taxes across a boarder.

“ Fuck Man, Let him be his own. That way he won’t make the same mistakes you did with that crop of tabacoo. I see the union has spent quite a bit to have yours exported.” No hands from either side came to the restraint of either fighter.

I stepped between them and placed a hand on each one of their chest looking to the Sergeant first. Two stepscloser and I would have either made it in time to pick on up off the ground or catch a face full of fist. “You’re out of line trooper, who’s your First Sergeant?” The nature of my tone recouped the severity it had once had as an officer. Dominate and demanding of respect, from both sides.

“Get out of my way Jasper,” Mr. Mcmurtree insisted trying to swat away my block. “I’ve words with this man.” He wasn’t quite drunk with anger yet, but a bout or two would have set that straight.

I turned to him with a uncompromising look. “I’ve been a respectable member of this neighborhood have I not?”

“Ya have.” He agreed

“And I fancy myself as fine an officer as you have heard of before. Would you agree to that as well Mr. McMurtree?” I hated that so often in this town that my journey’s of a secret nature so often preceded me, but it appeared as though today it came with it’s benefits.

“I suppose.” The defeat so heavily clear in his voice.

“Well this Trooper is out of line in his conduct and if you’ll allow I will deal with the manner in a military way.” As his eyes locked into mine I could see the anger slowly being subdued. Steven Turned about and called his lads to follow.

One person defused allowed me to concentrate on the Sergeant left in my grip.

“Your First Sergeant.” Though I waited all I got in return was a scowl. “It can’t be that your dumb, I heard you tossing words about with that man. Tell me the name of your First Sergeant or I’ll walk you to the steps of the Town hall and action off your name and rank in exchange for some severe punishment. “

“First Sergeant Williams.” He retorted with a matter of fact voice. As if the name was meant to startle me.

“Good,” I replied with a calm tone. “I will wait till night falls and he has passed out before I wake him to explain your situation. As I have when he was the First Sergeant under my command.” The sowl washed away with the look of first disbelief then the obvious outcome of our conversation set. “Unless you busy yourself with stabling my horse and meeting up with the Sergeant-At -Arms for a weapons cleaning detail.

“All things considered Sir, I fancy your alternative will take less flesh off my back then the first option.” He had taken my alternative with the intended second chance.

“I thought it might. Listen Sergeant, These men and women have notoriously not been supportive of putting bodies into the fight. We are a supply town. And need all the men we can to continue to help YOU. Give them ease when they are apprehensible to giving up their children. It’s not just a child they are losing. It’s also that much more of the chores that will also have to be spread about. You’re fighting families AND businesses here.”

“I understand completely Sir. My brothers have all but disowned me for enlisting. Though I think it’s the best thing I ever done.” His calm attitude with me took me a bit by surprise considering the words we had just exchanged. I remained in repose and continued.

“Good for you then.” I patted him on the back. “And don’t let her get a head of you, she have her way in the Colonels tent if you let her.” Anna’s reins traded from my guidance to his grasp.

“A sure thing sir.”

I whispered to Anna to be good and gave her one more stroke down her mane before I removed my saddle bags to hand carry them. Without a word otherwise she has been known to make her self immobile.

As I approached a disturbing calamity could be heard from inside Colonel Parsons’ tent. It’s meaning all too clear in the dealings of my presence.

“Sir,” A young man’s voice, not much older than mine id wager. “Colonel sir?”

“What is it Captain?” W.H. Parsons’ Voice was commanding. His very inflections near held me in the position of attention.

“Well Sir, the militias are taking up all the able Soldiers promising them 60 days of rest out of the year.” I could hear he ruffling of books as the adjutant moved them about for refrence.

“60 DAYS?!? That’s a lie. I have assurances From Lieutenant Wilks that they can do no better than 20.” He was demanding answers though he had not made it clear what his question was.

“None the less Sir, they have managed to register Two Hundred bodies to our One Fifty. And I have been told that of them, no less than three fourths are prior military.”

“I cannot raise a Battalion with one hundred and fifty men.” Defeat was not in his voice. “hell, I couldn’t do it with three hundred and fifty. And where are my Commanding Officers. I was promised enough to raise eight companies.” If I am forced to do anything , I was atleast glad that my chances of command were looking better. Patrol leaders and Executives have the burden of command with no voice.

Marking this as a pristine time to introduce myself I knocked on the wooden makeshift door.

“Sir, its Mr. Whitlock.” I announced. “You sent for me?”

“Jasper? Jasper Whitlock?” he questions preceded the mammoth man’s departure from the tent. The door swung open just behind my hastily steps backwards

“As I live an’ breathe,” he elbowed the Captain in the ribs as he spoke. ”This man’s father chased after Santa Anna from Veracruz. His was so loved by his men that they cried out his name like a war anthem at the deciding battle while he lay dying. In fact, that Arabian horse of his kept me up all night long with his incessant trotting. Man and beast stood loyally under his command.” His emphasis on beast made me wonder just how much of my father’s character I received.

He was proud to have commanded my father. I could see it in his eyes and that he was relieving a fond memory.

“A shining example of an Officer, your father was. And as much I have also heard about you.”

“I do my duty when asked Colonel, and nothing more.”

“To the contrary Lieutenant, You have achieved a standard above all your peers and have come to me highly recommended. It was suggested to me that I should invite you back to your commission.”

“I will have to consider it Colonel. What are you purposing?” thought the hat on my head may have indicated to him I was already sold. I had reservations and bad tastes still left in my mouth.

He walked out to me trailed by the Captain turned me around towards the steps of the city hall and began to pour the ‘betterment of the confederacy’ speech in my ear. Near the same one I heard when I turn my resignation into my old Battalion Commander.

After a while, which lead me to believe he might not be as much of a people person as he was a tactician, he could see in my eyes that I had not been taken by the speech that had so often captured young officers into another term of service and he reproached with less formality.

“Look son, come inside and hear me talk to the elders, I can tell you’re more of an in-depth thinker than these tinker pots and wash hands. The war effort has unique needs something I won’t tell the men in there, but listen all the same.”

I had never been inside the City hall before. It was offices at the front, and a huge reception hall in the back all furnished with iron bars and oak wooden panels. I took a place not too far off from the Colonel’s right but still in the pew like benches that were guarded to the front with a banister of iron rod and a wooden handrail.

The oak benches smelt of sweat and soap they offered little comfort and would add to the hostility should the meeting last longer than a couple of hours.

The sun’s rays bouncing off the tents outside allowed little comfort in the near claustrophobic chamber but highlighted the bald heads of the influx of new observers. The elders of each trade, and any man of considerable worth showed up, nearly 200 in all, each representing townships near and far, some bearing the loyalty of militia troops, others invaluable assets of supply and trade.

Flag Officers and Senior Non Commissioned Officers from the various branches represented in the field outside lined the very same banister and bench I sat behind, with Regular Army Soldiers guarding at each of the entrances. Every cluster of men representing any number of facets from my life; the smithies, the farmers, the ranchers even a woman’s auxiliary. I felt both the tension form the room and my own base calm which seemed to flow from my chest out to my fingers, almost like a buffer of trouble.

A bearded man called the room to order; His age apparent in the bags under his eyes and the bright red patches of repair on his suit. His voice came across with the authority of his position.

“Gentlemen,” he called, still quite in charge but now heard without the inhibition of anything but the light breeze through the windows. “This is a time of unification. Our cousins to the north have done more to offend the freedom they proclaim, more than any of us have ever done. The America’s our forefathers laid claim to, that our grandparents died for that we might live here did not see a nation so wrought with tyranny of a commercial north. There was equality in the government. But now that they see it as inconvenience, they discount our military need but have no issue with a surplus demand for our textiles”

“They take our products at near cost, and levy taxes on us from their perches of comfort and commerce. Profiting from our poverty and asking us to rid ourselves of the God given right to choose whom we elect. We have already declared secession from the autocrats not so far away as those in June of 1776. Now we have come together this day to discuss, not the support of strangers but those of Southern blood.”

“We are asked, once in a great long while, as brothers living in Texas to those outside the lines of our inner circle, to hold the flame up above the waters of oppression, that our children can live with that much less dearth. And I come to you, as a father myself, and beg you to listen to these men and hear what they say. They have already fought for the freedoms you enjoy. Lend them your ears, they ask so little when compared to the benefits of an independent southern nation. A Confederacy”

He was quite good at rallying the men to a patriotic tempo before turning them over to the Colonel. The room had its skeptics. But such would always be the case I supposed. In this instant though they were all but snuffed as the men who could chanted.

“Gentleman,” the Colonel stepped down from behind the raised table and platform. His attempt to be on the level with these men. Another show that strengthened the already fir resolve the elder had set. “I have received devotions from almost every walk of life, more than enough to continue a campaign with the Union for the next year. Though I see little chance of that. And I have been charged by the Governor of Texas to establish the 12th Texas Calvary. A battalion I myself will command and see o it that the full effects of a determined Texan are witnessed. But these men cannot fight alone.”

“There are too many Union grey coat lurking about in the woods to the north, as many men will tell you, they have already come as far south as Tennessee. How many of you have family in Tennessee?” A number of men raised their hands. “Cousins?” He pointed to one man.

“And Uncles” he returned.

“And you Sir” Indicating one of the oldest in the crowd.

“Nieces, and nephews.”

“Anyone with Children, Fathers, Brothers, Sisters a Mother perhaps?”

“Aye” a number of young and old voices rang out.

“And would you leave them defenseless to the devils of the north? Or would you rather stand with them in a well supplied defense?”

“I’d rather it be me alone than put my eldest through that.” Cried a man from the back.

“Then ask yourself and your neighbor to help. I offer you the chance to be the family’s defender. The hero they talk about in years to come.”

The Colonel had unparalleled charisma, I found myself lost in his heroics, though I knew full well the misery of war.

“I bring you arms and uniforms and ask you to fill them. All you have to do is bring yourself and that of any you represent and continue to do what you’re already committed to do.”

“Major Welsh Sir, I represent the Ellis Militaia. Roughly Two- Hundred men. We need new weapons and better rations can you provide this for us?” A talk lanky man, who looked better than someone who had just come home from a fight with a bear stood holding his long rife which was only slightly more of a marvel to me than was his beard which near ran the length of his shirt.

“if you’re willing to swear allegiance to the Confederate and her President, yes my good sir, I have more than enough room in this Battalion for you and yours. I should like a major for my executive if you’re interested.” I could hardly imagine that the Colonel had the vision of this man to his right when he would address the men at his command. the image alone near brought me to disrupt the serious nature with a chuckle.

I could see in his eyes that he came to bid his loyalty anyways, and was elated to find that he was more richly rewarded than he had anticipated. This encouraged the other Militias to pledge themselves for a total of 700 men. With the 150 outside he had the makings of a battalion. I could tell though that this was not nearly enough for him.

He pried at the elders and convinced some to lift their self imposed enlistment embargo which represented another 150.

The debates waged on for hours as various members of the counsel urged locals to enlist while they begged for commissions for the sons of the wealthy. Not at all the expectations the Colonel had when he came to Ellis County. He was truly wading into the waters and asking all to join, but coming back with no less than 1000 skilled men at arms of the total. A considerable force. The room stayed alight with various levels of conversation that his newly appointed Executive controlled. Allowing the Colonel to retire. The benches remained unoccupied since the rise to arms and as such ended up having little to do with any emotions.

“Come with me Jasper. You and I have much to talk about.” He took my by the shoulder outside, where I could see the torn down tents of the militias all but packed up in defeat.

“I understand you might feel Rogered by My tactics of sending a friend to ask you to come here today. Truth be told, I have asked someone of importance to visit each of those men in there. It pays to grease the palms before you ask for money. In earnest, I need you, though I have many able body men more than qualified to be Commanders and leaders at various levels. I need a Scout Commander.”

“Colonel, I told you I have to think it over.” I stopped in my tracks to look him in the eyes.

“You can’t leave these men without a Commander; I have missions lined up already that will curl the hairs of lesser men. Missions I am certain your particular expertise would ensure a victory.”

I twisted a finger through my own, ‘curled hair’ giving him a mocking look.

“Your needed her son, you have no idea what value you posses simply as a figure head. To many of my men you are already an unsung hero. You’re not going to be a division asset. You’ll be here with the Battalion, and at best working with a Brigade.”

“Sir…”

“Hand Pick your men and officers.” He interrupted. He wasn’t going to take a no. so I at least pressed my luck.

“And my rank?”

“Captain,” He snapped back quickly. “I’d make you a major but you’d be the youngest and people would start to ask questions.” Hinting at his understanding of my previous mendacity.

“My horse will be supplied but not commissioned.”

“On contract then”

“And her contract will be voided when ever mine is.” I felt strongly that this was not going to be discussed.

“I have a condition of my own.” He placed his hands together in front of his lips in prayer.

“let’s have it.”

“Last week a woman, I believe your sister, was selling Rhubarb Pie. Could you manage to bring me a slice?” I laughed. Thogh I could hardly contain it, and to my surprise Colonel Parsons enjoyed a snort along with me.

“You should come to my house for dinner Colonel, though I might be willing, my mother is head of the house, and maker of the pie.” I emphasized the last portion.
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Red Oak	By : DarkDavea Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 1346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

Red Oak