Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [66]
“But, no—they didn’t so much as touch a hair on my head. Instead they ripped my heart from my breast! We watched those monsters turn our beautiful Netherfield into ashes. Everything I owned was burned. Everything. All I had left was literally the clothes on my back!” By now, tears were running down her hard features.
A stunned Beth turned to Charles, who nodded, verifying his sister’s account. Beth’s insides roiled in mortification at her earlier thoughtless words. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Sorry… sorry. Is that all you Yankees have to say—that you’re sorry?” Caroline continued to rage. “After the war, the carpetbaggers and their scallywag friends stole what was left of Netherfield when we couldn’t pay the taxes!” She stopped her pacing and turned to Beth. “You tell me you’re sorry? Prove it! Give me back my home! Give me back Netherfield! Then, I’ll accept your apology.” Her tearful eyes gleamed with malice. “Until then, allow me to hate y’all as much as I can.”
“Caroline, that’s enough!” Charles thundered. “Beth, please excuse me. I need to talk to my sister.”
A weeping Beth made her way into her borrowed bedroom, her pregnant sister close behind. Once she closed the door, Jane joined Beth on her bed, taking her hands.
“Are you all right, Beth?”
Beth shook her head. “I’m… I’m shocked. I can hardly believe what she said. But Charles’s face… oh Jane!” She held her face in her hands. “Is everything I know about the war wrong?”
Jane rubbed her sister’s back. “Beth, do you remember how scared we were back in ’63 when we heard of Morgan’s Raid 5? How the Rebels were riding along the Ohio River, stealing from folks? We were afraid they would show up at our door any minute. Father always said not to put too much stock into what the papers wrote. People are people, and you can’t expect Northern troops to act any differently than the Southerners.”
Beth looked at Jane and saw only concern, not surprise or censure. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes. Charles told me what happened to his family’s home some time ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Charles and I decided not to. What good would it have done to tell you that our Union soldiers took everything away from the Bingleys? It would have only made things uncomfortable for everyone. Charles has made his peace with the war. Mother and Father have more than accepted Charles; they love him as a son. What’s in the past is in the past. We both want to make a new start here in Texas.”
“You still should have told us, but I understand your reasons. Poor Caroline.” Beth made a sound between a sob and a nervous laugh. “I never thought I would ever say that. Oh, my God, what that poor girl has gone through.”
“I know, but I don’t excuse what Caroline said. She’s a very bitter woman.” Jane sighed. “I’m not blind. I know she doesn’t like me, and she’s disappointed that Charles married me. I know she wants him to move to New Orleans. But the war has deeply damaged her. She’s been forced to live with the Hursts, far away from a home she loved. It’s driven out most of her tender feelings, leaving only pain and anger and false pride to hide behind. Do you know that as pretty as she is, she has no beaux in New Orleans? It’s because it’s written on her face that she can’t love anymore.”
“If you believe she dislikes you, why do you put up with her?”
“Because she’s my sister.” Jane stroked Beth’s hair. “If you came down sick, I would nurse you, you know that. Caroline’s sick, but in a different way. She’s sick in her heart, and we’re trying to help. Perhaps one day, Caroline will allow herself to love again.”
“You’re a better person than I am, Jane,” Beth said in awe.
Jane smiled. “No, I’m not. You’re special in your own way.”
They sat quietly for a moment. “Has Charles told you anything else about the war?”
“Some. What are you asking?”
“Has he told you about George Whitehead?”