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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
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.

~~~ Part of my big publication dump.
~~~

Whitlock Homestead, Ellis County Texas, September 12th, 1861.

It took a little of the Colonels charm to convinced my mother, though she had already anticipated my return to military service. Or so she said often throughout the conversation. I had assumed that it was going to be like pushing a rock up a hill with her. However, Once Colonel Parsons told her I would receive a promotion and be able to choose my own command, there was little more she could argue about, except it did take a piece of pie or two to convince him to let me take 45 days of leave at the height of harvest, and with that he took leave.

It was still dark out when I rolled my bed up for the last time under this roof and strapped my sheets to the pack I had hoped I would never have to put back on; the moon and stars just bright enough for me to not have to light a candle. Again I shaved and combed my curls out as much as I possibly could all the while think how this would have to become a daily routine.

I noticed by the smell of her cooking that I was not yet my mother’s equal with the early mornings; Abigail had made it down stairs before me again, and had already set to work on a complete breakfast. There was little I could say with the slight choke in my throat, so I walked by as she was fussing about, put one hand on her waist and kissed her on her damp forehead.

“I’ll write Mom.” Nearly a whisper.

“You damn’d well better,” she warned with tears in her voice the words hesitant to seep out.

Her arms gripped me around the waist and held me tightly. The strength it took for me to not come straight out of my resolve and plant my roots simply to please her was nearly overbearing. She may not have ever known how she truly could affect me, but then, what are mothers for?

“There have been too many times already that I thought I had lost you. You’re all that I have left in this world Jasper.” The tears needing not to be hidden poured out onto her rosy checks.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I assured her as I wiped away the constant flow.

“You are,” she buried her face in my chest, “you’re going away to fight a war, and your just like your father. There is too much of what I loved in him that has been born to you, and so I cannot deny you the chance to live your dreams. You’re a Good Man Jasper Whitlock, don’t you ever forget that.”

“I won’t mother.” I promised her, cradling her head.

“You’ll write and come home when I need you?” She asked, her eyes demanding the full attention of my heart.

“You know I will.”

She let go of me and pushed the wrinkles out of her apron, straightened the loose locks of goldenrod curls that hung in front of her face, and dried the dampness under her eyes before setting back to work. Trying to ignore the moment, or doing her best to make this as easy for me as possible, now that she’s made it worse.

I had not noticed before but the table had been set for three and before I could ask someone had rapped on the door.

“Be a dear and answer the door.” My mother’s back turned to me so I wouldn’t see the tears that started up again.

I felt a bit nervous; I was unsure who she would invite to breakfast on my last day here. Though I was certain it would be someone of importance, the pastor, or town elder who knew my father like before. I didn’t like to be told about my father’s exploits. He was a mythical man, and I loved him like my father, but I had not known him and to me he was all stories.

With this all on my mind I was not ready to open the door to a pretty yellow dress. Head to toe she was immaculate; a yellow ribbon in her hair and yellow pastel gloves. This girl I had grown up with had become a woman in my mind in one instant. And I was fully aware of the implications of her attire and her sweet as candy smile.

“You look wonderful Margaret.” I was still in astonishment and heavily without breath.

“Thank your sir.” Her remark was both intended to be cute and in mock of the fact that I was wearing my uniform. She curtsied and winked.

“Who is it?” My mother called from the kitchen. As if she didn’t know exactly who it was.

“Margaret, I don’t suppose you have you’ve made enough for her to stay?”

“As it just so happens…”

“I thought as much.”

I reached forward to take her fingers, guiding her into the dining room. Abigail was drying her hands off into her apron when we came through the door way. The imaged of the two of us brought the tears again. If this had not been the same way when I left last time, I would be worried.

“You look just like your father and I when he first went off when this was still your grandfather’s house.” She wiped the tear away, and Margaret blushed. I sat the two of them and took my place beside my mother, across from Margaret.

Grace was said and the conversation turned about in a hurry. “I’m going to Tennessee, Jasper.”

“You have family up there?” I stopped just short of putting food into my mouth. I was remembering what the Colonel had said about Tennessee.

“My father’s found a permanent station up there and he says he’s looking for people to establish a settlement. I’ve agreed.” She was trying to convey her lack of fear, but it came across very plastered in self doubt.

“Margaret?” My mother was dumbfounded by the news, which is to say the two of us were.

“I have to go tomorrow; I won’t be back for a while. My mother is coming along too.” She was rushing now, which was very confusing unless she wanted all the bad news out now, hoping she wouldn’t have to deal with it as long.

“What about your home in Houston?” Abigail stole the very thoughts from my head.

“My father sold it, the carriage arrived just as I was leaving this morning to come see you.” she caught her tears. “This would be the last time I am likely to see you Jasper Whitlock, I wanted to do something special and I know how much Cavalry Tradition means to you.”

I could feel that she longed for me to say anything to keep her in town; a promise to return, a demand for her hand, anything. But I could not give my friend false hope. I loved her like the girl down the way, she held no romantic attraction for me. But her eyes.

“I would like to see you if I come through town.” I didn’t want to leave her completely crushed.

“I would like that.” the way she replied told me that she knew it was a long shot, but she was content with the possibility of seeing me again. Her eyes drifted to her plate just before mine.

“My cousin says they promoted you.” She was less interested with this news, but I sensed she was very egger to move on.

“Colonel Parsons gave me my Captain. I would have been due it in a month if I was still active anyways.” Trying to not make it a big deal.

“But still, that’s quite a fast promotion.” She proclaimed. “You should be proud Abigail.”

She reached over and grabbed my hand, looking me in the eyes when hers welled up even more. “I was proud the day I brought him home. And I have been ever since.”

“This conversation is going to turn into a rain storm. Let’s talk about something else.” I urged, holding back my own tears. These women, they would turn my own soul against me and not even know it.

After that there was little to be said at all. Everyone involved sat saliently and when it came time for me to pack Anna and leave, Abigail had agreed to take Margaret home and I kissed them both on the forehead. One last time.

Anna was up and restless, the morning was colder than I was hoping it would be. I could see my breath in the air. I packed a spare riding blanket along with the bed roll attached to the top of my pack.

“Come on girl, this will be another easy run.” I assured her. “Nothing we haven’t seen before.”

She wasn’t nervous at all; it was my own nerves I was easing.

She nudged me in the back of my head, reminding me that I had let my Cavalry hat on the spur hooks. The spurs I had to open my pack to stow. I hated what they did to Anna’s side almost as much as she did. The Stetson’s strap hooked onto the back of my head with no need for an adjustment and I climbed up on to her back and we strode out of the stables. I wanted to savor every single moment.

I could near see myself as a child running about my grandfather’s ranch, I could see how my mother always watched me from the kitchen window, and how she always had that look in her eye like I was always a half step out of her reach. I wanted to go back to those times and reassure her that all I ever did was to make her proud.

Once out the gate and clear of the rosemary we took off. Anna wasted even less time to get to full gallop today then she had when we went to fix the fence line. The feeling of leaving home is what I was trying to run from, but the further I got the harder it became to not turn around. Though I was not the one running I still felt like I was moving and leaving half my person behind in the drag.

The trees went by at regular intervals and I was reminded that this was the very same road I left on the first time. When my grandfather called us up to visit, and I snuck away to enlist, by chance, the officer in command knew my father and offered me a commission. I was two steps away from being thrown out the door, I didn’t have the proof they wanted for my age.

The sun rising to my left near blinded me between the branches and the bitter cold air added to the discomfort, as if the season it’s self was trying to turn us around.

Not by choice an ice cold tear seeped out and ran back to my ear. I was determined to ignore its presence; confirmation was a sure sign that more would follow. That was not something I wanted, not now, not when I needed to change.

As Anna grew more comfortable with moving in the cold we slowed down to a controlled pace, which meant I could spend less time concentrating on the terrain, and more thinking about the family I just left.

Abigail, would get over it, or cover it up in her own way. She would not be taken down by something this familiar. I had seen it before. She would continue to make quilts, and clothes, baking less now that I was gone. But that always happened. She would tie her hair back and work diligently to keep her mind on the here and now.

That would always be her way.

Margaret would throw herself into helping her family especially with this new development. She would do all she could for those she loved, and that would include me if I let her. She would cut her hair shorter now that I left, which I was never partial too, and she would spend as much time with the women her age as possible, though most were already married. I think this time she will give upon her lifelong hopes of marriage to me, it’s better that way at least. Above all the things my mother had said I was, she said I had my Grandfathers free spirit. I was just as likely to hitch myself to a passing cause as a cat chasing a mouse and Margaret had been the settle down type for as long as I have known her. We’ve never truly been compatible.

Anna would be the only one to actually enjoy this, there was something about living with me under a tent for weeks at a time that she found soothing. She liked having the early morning wake up calls, and surges of adrenaline form direct fire. She didn’t even mind eating the food that would be gathered.

It was very much the same for me. Once I was able to push back my emotions and Soldier myself, I was like a different person all together. Though most of my mental traits remained the same, I was able to live without any of the conveniences and my tolerance for moral dishevel among my men was flatly non-existent. With the exception of moral grey areas that were common with war.

While discussing all the things I would need to change about myself I hadn’t realized that the camp was now within sight and my time for change was neigh. I drew my first breath as a Captain at that moment, and marched forward in search of my company’s Guidon.
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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