Her Rebel Heart. Shannon Farrington

want you to go! I don’t want any of you to go! I don’t want any of this to be happening!”

       “Then think about what you are saying. We must stay together! We must convince Edward not to go south.”

       “He won’t listen! He would rather die than dishonor his state! Samuel, please! Go with him. Only you can take care of him.”

       “Julia, I can’t willingly support the position the South is taking. I can’t condone slavery.”

       Pure confusion filled her eyes. “But we don’t even own slaves!”

       “I can’t support a government which allows others to do so.”

       As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realized how ridiculous they sounded. He had sealed his fate.

       “You have supported one thus far!” she said, tears hardening into anger. “How many Maryland plantations on the eastern shore rely on slaves? You are using that as an excuse! I have never known you to march with the abolitionists! Edward is right! You are a coward!”

       She ripped the engagement ring from her finger. “I will not marry you!”

       Sitting beside her now, he continued to hold her hand as Reverend Perry prayed. Sam knew Julia had begged him to join Edward not because she wished for war but because she feared for her brother’s safety—and for their own. He had no quarrel with her brother. He would give anything to see their relationship restored, their family reunited.

      Lord, I believe that slavery is wrong but my own state supports it! And what of Dr. Carter and his abolitionist friends? What if they are radicals? What if they advocate the methods of John Brown?

       The newspapers had been full of stories just a few months ago concerning the raid on Harper’s Ferry. The town was held hostage. People were killed.

      I don’t know which position is right or which side to be on. All I know is that I love her. Show me Your will…

       If Reverend Perry had meant for his prayer to be a comfort, it had just the opposite effect. When the congregation was dismissed many of the women were in tears and the men were grumbling.

       Julia was pale, pensive, lost in her own private world. Sam led her from the pew, her arm through his. The air inside the church was stifling and he worried that she might faint. He steered her to the door and down the front steps. A slight breeze wafted across the churchyard. Julia seemed glad for it. Her face pinkened.

       The fact that she was allowing him to lead her was a good sign. Perhaps today we can iron out our differences. We can commit to navigating the unknown together.

       Once outside, parishioners began conversing. Reverend Perry’s prayer was the subject of much of the discussion. Sam caught snatches of it as he walked Julia to the carriage.

       “That man is riding the fence! Waiting to see which side prevails!”

       “Praying for Lincoln! He should be praying for the souls of those on Federal Hill!”

       Sam ignored their words. He waited as Dr. Stanton helped his wife inside the carriage. He studied Julia. She was still silent but her color was definitely improving with the fresh air. While they were waiting, Warren Meade, one of Dr. Stanton’s patients, approached them. Julia’s father had recently set his broken arm.

       Sam nodded to the man and Dr. Stanton smiled when he saw him. “Warren, how’s your arm today?”

       “Fine,” the man said gruffly.

       “The pain is diminishing?”

       “Yes, but I am not here to talk about that.”

       “Oh?” said Dr. Stanton.

       “I am here to tell you that I have found a new physician.”

       Julia’s father blinked. “Is something wrong?”

       The man was obviously angry and whatever the disagreement between patient and doctor, Sam thought it best to give them privacy. He helped Julia into the carriage. His back was to the ongoing discussion. Julia had just taken a seat when all of a sudden, Warren Meade said loud enough for everyone to hear,

       “Slavery is a sin! God won’t protect men who fight for it!”

       Sam cringed. He knew the reference was in regard to Edward. Julia knew as well. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw stiffened.

       “Don’t pay any attention to that,” he said to her. “He doesn’t realize what he is saying.” He reached for her hand.

       She pulled it back. Her eyes held the same look that Edward’s had the night he left for Virginia.

       “Samuel,” she said slowly, mouth set tight. “I must ask you not to visit my house or sit in my family pew again.”

       He was stunned.

       Warren Meade must have stormed off after making his point, for Dr. Stanton climbed into the carriage.

       “It is time to go,” he said. He sounded as though there was a lot more that he wanted to say but was holding his tongue. He glanced at his wife, his daughter, then at Sam. “Son, will you be joining us for dinner?”

       Sam could not get past the look of contempt in Julia’s eyes. She had apparently classified him in the same category as Warren Meade. He wanted to tell her that he thought nothing of the kind about her or her father. He wanted her to know that he prayed for Edward daily, just as she.

       But he could not find the words.

       Dr. Stanton was waiting for an answer. Sam looked at him.

       “No,” he said. “Thank you, but I must tend to some things at home.”

       Dr. Stanton nodded. He gave his horse a click. “Then soon,” he said and the carriage rolled away.

       The carriage rocked back and forth as the wheels rolled over the cobblestone. No one said a word. They traveled in silence toward Monument Square. Federal soldiers were stationed periodically throughout the public gardens. Hands shaking, Julia closed her eyes. She did not want to see them. The sight of the men was nauseating.

       She tried to think of happier times as she wobbled in her seat. She remembered how, as a child, she and Edward would ride to church. Julia would be dressed in her finest laces. Edward would purposefully tug at her skirts, trying to wrinkle them. He would knock into her as they turned corners, overexaggerating the carriage’s motion.

       “Edward!” she would whine.

       “Julia!” he would answer back.

       They would fuss. They would argue. Their mother would scold them into silent submission but they could never remain quiet or still for very long.

       She then thought of her first carriage ride with Samuel, their first outing as a courting couple. Edward was chosen as the chaperone. Planted squarely in the front bench seat, he purposefully sped through the streets of Baltimore. He’d taken corners with lightning speed and had managed to find every bump in the road.

       Samuel had only laughed, and slapped Edward on the shoulder. “Drive faster!” He’d slid his arm around her. Shocked, Julia looked at him.

       He’d grinned innocently. “I am just making certain that you don’t fall out of the carriage.”

       She couldn’t help but laugh. Samuel had done the same.

      Friends and coconspirators, she thought. Now they are on opposite sides.

      A family must stick together. A church should stick together.

       She had seen the flash in Samuel’s eyes when Warren Meade made his vehement declaration. She knew it had angered him. He knew it had angered her.

      But he did nothing. He didn’t even turn around and face the man. He just stood there! He let the man condemn my brother, my family!

       Her anger swelled.

      Samuel