Her marriage contract prevented Jesse from disposing of her dowry without her consent, but was it enforceable? And could she hold out against her father-in-law if he applied pressure? If he laid a hand on her, she vowed she would follow the drum, regardless of the danger. She would never again allow a man to hurt her.
She passed the bank and considered going in for advice, but she didn’t trust the male bankers and wished she could talk to Ari or Victoria.
Her ground-eating stride had brought her near the end of the business district. Turning, she headed back the way she had come until she stood in front of the office of the Arkansas State Gazette. Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and went inside. Two rows of desks book-ended a table in the center of the room. From somewhere in the back came the clang of the printing press. The buzzing of voices and the smell of ink slapped her in the face. There was no film crew, but she was back in a newsroom.
“Can I help you?” asked a man sitting behind a desk near the door.
“I’d like to write for the paper,” she said. “I worked for a paper in Missouri before moving south.” Hopefully, under the circumstances, they wouldn’t ask for references.
The man eyed her dubiously. “Because of the shortage of men, we have taken on a few women, but circulation is down and I really don’t think the owner is looking to hire anyone else.”
Diamond had heard that song and dance before. “I’ll work freelance. Submit articles for sale.”
“We accept a few freelance articles.”
“Is the editor in?”
“I’m the chief editor.”
Diamond stuck her hand out and almost introduced herself as Di Merrell. She caught herself at the last second. “Mrs. Diamond Weber. Pleased to meet you.”
“Charles Decker.” He shook her hand, all the while eyeing it like it was a snake. “Will your husband allow you to work here?”
“My husband is away at war. I don’t need his permission.”
“All the more reason you should follow his wishes…” His voice trailed off under the heat of Diamond’s glare. “Not that it’s any of my concern.”
“Exactly. Good day, Mr. Decker. I’m sure we will work well together.” She sashayed out of the office, allowing her hoops a bit of extra swing. It might not be TV, but Di Merrell was back in business.
* * *
As the days grew longer and hotter, Jesse’s wool uniform grew more unbearable. The men complained while on the march and when building fortifications in camp. The odors of latrines, unwashed, sweaty bodies and the smoke of cooking fires hung in the air. Jesse longed for the clean earthy smell of the fields back home and the sweet aroma of apple pie sitting out to cool. Most of all, he wanted to go home to his wife, the spirited beauty who challenged him at every turn.
If he survived the war, would they be able to make their marriage work? He hoped so, and not only for the dowry she had brought. He was glad he’d avoided marriage to Amy or any of the other young women in his social circle. He had nothing against Amy. She was pretty, wealthy, well-connected and passionate in her devotion to the Southern cause, but there was no spark between them. He couldn’t imagine going on the run with her. Would she have found the strength and courage to cross Reelfoot Lake, eerie with the remnants of drowned forests sticking up out of the water? Somehow he doubted it.
He hoped Diamond was safe and comfortable in Little Rock. His father wouldn’t make it easy for her, but she was tough. Too tough for her own good. He hadn’t received any letters recently, but his division had been on the move, covering more ground in the last few weeks than he cared to remember. He had the blisters and sore muscles to prove it.
They finally made camp on the river and it appeared they would be here for a while, judging by the extent of the fortifications they were building. He and Cole had plans to go swimming with some other men once they were off duty. Jesse still disliked water and would stay near the bank, but the lure of cooling off outweighed his distrust of the unknown swirling depths. It was a small river, more of a creek. Not the Mississippi.
Cole was ready by the time Jesse returned to his tent. He had already stripped off his heavy jacket and wore only trousers and a shirt. Jesse gratefully doffed his own coat and stretched his aching shoulders. He’d been digging all morning.
“Hurry,” Cole said. “I can’t wait to get rid of all my dust.”
“Likewise,” Jesse agreed, but tension tightened his throat. He should have followed his father’s advice and learned to swim, but after nearly drowning as a child, every time he got in over his head, panic overcame him. He followed Cole to the river where several of their fellow soldiers already frolicked.
Cole dashed in while Jesse took it easy. He sighed at the cool kiss of the water, almost too cold at first. Cole ducked under and came up shouting, spraying water all around as he shook his head. Jesse continued to feel his way forward, avoiding areas where the riverbed fell away. He’d nearly reached the center of the river when he caught sight of another group of men on the other side of the river, a few hundred yards away.
He froze, “Cole is that—”
“The enemy? Yes, but we’re under truce while we’re swimming. The patrols arranged it. They even organized a trade. We’re to bring our excess tobacco tomorrow for coffee.”
Jesse
