Journey just let him talk. Some of what he said was painful to hear. Especially when he started talking about the things he’d seen in battle. She didn’t ask him to hush, however. Just hearing his voice was worth any discomfort she felt. “I’m glad you survived.”
“Me too. So many didn’t.” He rubbed his thumb on the seam of his woolen trousers. “On the morning of April 1st, 1865, we were marching into the crossroads at Five Forks, Virginia. Out of nowhere, this little drummer boy came running up to me and asked if I was Reno Black. I said I was. He took off and a few minutes later he came back leading Cole. I was shocked to see him.”
“I bet you were.”
“I had no idea he’d enlisted in the Union army and I don’t know how he found me. I didn’t get a chance to ask. Anyway, there we stood. One Yank and one Rebel. Blue and grey. Brother against brother. We had no idea at that point that the war was almost over.”
Journey felt so bad for Reno. She could hear the regret in his voice. “What happened next?”
“I instantly knew why he’d come. I could read it on his face. Our father was dead. He told me that the old man had a heart attack a few weeks before. There was nothing I could do. He was already buried. Cole just wanted to tell me about his death and that a few weeks before he died, he mailed a letter to me in care of Reverend Bennett back in Tennessee. I told Cole that I’d ask about the letter if I ever made it home, then I hugged his neck and…” Reno shrugged and looked out his window. “And that was that. We didn’t talk about anything else other than our wish to get together again once things returned to normal. A few seconds later, he was gone. I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on around me at that moment. I was in too much of a daze and the battle was heating up. Hell, I was just trying to stay alive. I sure didn’t notice who might’ve witnessed our short exchange. It wasn’t until much later I learned Cole had been arrested for treason.”
“Treason, that’s such a serious charge.”
“Yea, you’re right. Someone saw Cole talking to me. He was accused of passing strategic information that resulted in the death of Brigadier General Frederick Winthrop. Apparently, the General was sent to attack a well-defended Confederate position behind a raised parapet made of logs and sand. Several Union attacks had already been fended off and another assault was redundant and foolish. For some reason, his commanding officer sent him on horseback to rally his unit once more. As he rode along the line of defense, he was shot in the left breast, his lung was pierced, and he fell. His men rushed him to cover, but he died a few minutes later. The rifleman who shot him was my friend, Jericho. There was no plan, no inside information, the General rode into the line of fire and Jericho saw an opportunity and took it. Somehow, someone found out Cole had met with me earlier. The erroneous belief cropped up that he’d given us information and fed poor intelligence to his commanding officer.”
Reno’s eyes focused on nothing. He was completely lost in the memory. “Winthrop was an extremely popular General. At only 27, his untimely death warranted a scapegoat in many eyes. The scapegoat they latched onto turned out to be my brother.” Again, he took her hand, seeming to receive strength from the contact. “I can’t fathom who made the accusation. The only thing I can figure out is…there was either a Union spy in our midst, or someone betrayed us for gain.” He balled up his fist and hit his own knee. “I vow I’ll find out the name of that traitor. Right after I track down the drummer boy. I’ll get him to testify that we didn’t discuss Winthrop and Cole never mentioned the Union position or any strategy. If I fail…Cole will be executed. I can’t let that happen.”
“No. You can’t. Did you ever get the letter from your father?”
Reno looked so sad that Journey thought she might cry. “I believe it was about a year after the war was over when Clay finally retrieved it from his father. The old ass didn’t