Shiloh

CHAPTER ONE

A lone rider slowly made his way along the deeply rutted post road connecting the Orangeburg District with Charleston, South Carolina. In a moment he would turn off and head up the rocky lane that led to the lovely inn situated on the banks of the Edisto River; the inn that had belonged to his friend John Rhodes for more than twenty years. As he approached the Edisto Inn, he was unaware that he was being observed from two different windows in the second story family quarters of the structure.

Jane Rhodes stared at the man on horseback. Even though he had his head tucked down against the chill winter drizzle, she knew it was Eli Johnson. She hadn’t laid eyes on him in more than a decade, and she wasn’t pleased with the prospect of seeing him now. The news he brought would in all likelihood change her life drastically, and not for the better, either.

Her husband and Eli had been corresponding in recent months about the political situation in the state. John had begun to agree with his friend that South Carolina and the federal government were headed for a confrontation over the right of the state to nullify any federal law that its citizens felt were onerous or unfair. If that were the case, the Rhodeses and many of their friends were prepared to leave their home state.

Jane turned away from the window and allowed her gaze to rest on the spacious bedroom she shared with John. It was furnished in cherry wood, with most of the pieces hand-carved by her father and given as gifts on different occasions. If Eli Johnson’s visit had the result she feared, she might have to leave the inn and all its comforts for an unknown life in the wilderness.

In the room at the far end of the hall, a young woman, tall and willowy, also stood watching the approaching rider. Her black hair served as a startling frame to her oval face. Soft gray eyes grew wide with concern as she watched her father step off the front porch to greet his old friend. Like her mother, Margaret had no doubt who the visitor was.

Although she hadn’t seen Eli since she was a little girl, John Rhodes had often spoken of his friend’s involvement in politics over in Charleston, and recently his friend’s letters had warned of the extreme element that now held sway in the state government. John made it clear that he wouldn’t stay in South Carolina if they passed anti-unionist laws.

The people of Shiloh church weren’t pacifists, exactly; but they certainly believed it was wrong for men who called themselves Christians to make war unless there was no other choice. The reasons the state of South Carolina espoused were the preservation of slavery and the economic oppression they saw in tariffs. Neither of these reasons met the conditions of anyone who belonged to the Orangeburg Shiloh Methodist congregation.

So, if the meeting that was scheduled for tonight went as Margaret believed it would, the men of the close-knit congregation would be moving their families out of South Carolina. And what better destination than Texas territory? There they wouldn’t have to take sides in the continuing controversy between north and south.

The tales they heard about Texas made Margaret cringe, but they only fueled her father’s enthusiasm. She had heard him say many times that, given a chance, he could secure a great heritage for his children in the new territory. The cost of land was prohibitive here in the east, he had explained to his family at the table just last night. "But for every hundred miles a man moves to the west, twice the land can be had for the price." He had waved his fork around in his eagerness, and his gray eyes, identical to hers, had taken on a faraway gleam. Her mother had said nothing; just pursed her lips and started to clear the table.

Margaret brought her thoughts back to the present and steeled herself to join her family and their newly arrived guest. Papa would want her to be there to greet Mr. Johnson. She wasn’t good at greeting strangers. And though the man wasn’t truly a stranger, since she had last seen him as a small child she really couldn’t remember him, and she feared she would probably lose the power of speech entirely when he spoke to her. It was embarrassing, this extreme shyness of hers--one of the things that she most wanted to change about herself.

As Margaret passed her parent’s room she saw her mother check the beveled glass mirror to see if her coronet of braids was still in place, then turn away quickly, as if caught doing something not quite proper. Margaret thought her mother beautiful. Her blond hair showed hardly a trace of gray, and her blue eyes were as striking and bright as ever. But Jane was always embarrassed when anyone, even John, complimented her looks.

Margaret knew that Jane had never thought of herself as either pretty or otherwise notable. Her strict German Methodist upbringing had taught her that virtue and hard work were the true measure of either a man or a woman. "Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised," she had often quoted Margaret’s grandfather, Andrew Kersh as saying. Jane had taken that biblical admonition to heart at a young age, and she had worked very hard alongside her husband to build the life they had together.

She was the consummate hostess for the inn, never prying into her guest’s private matters, but always anticipating their needs. She provided clean, comfortable surroundings, fine feather beds, and delicious meals served family-style from the long trestle table in the inn’s dining room. As a result, her mother was rewarded with the warm regard of her customers, many of whom went out of their way to visit again.

As Jane and Margaret descended the stairs together, they could hear Margaret’s older brother speaking to Eli as he and John stood in the inn’s entry hall. "Mr. Johnson, you’ve finally arrived. We’ve been a little worried about you. Father expected you two days ago. Were you delayed by the weather?" As Johnny spoke to their visitor in his usual outgoing manner, Margaret wondered why she, too, couldn’t have inherited her father’s personality.

Mr. Johnson snorted as Essie, the housekeeper relieved him of his long, black coat. "You might say it was the wind that delayed me, not the weather." In response to the puzzled looks he received, Eli went on to explain, "It was those windbags going on and on in their speeches to the legislature that kept me so long."

"I appreciate your coming this far give us the whole story," John remarked to his friend. "The newspaper accounts are rather confusing."

"Well, call your people together, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t want to tell it but once." The older man sighed, and for the first time Margaret noticed the lines of exhaustion that bracketed his mouth.

As usual, her mother was quick to respond to the needs of a guest. "John, Johnny, let Eli rest up and have some stew in the kitchen before you start with all your questions. He’s had a long, hard ride." Jane stepped forward with her hand extended in greeting.

Eli took it and made an elegant bow. "My, Jane, you haven’t changed at all. Still a beauty fair to take a man’s breath away. I had forgotten what a fortunate