Free Under the Distant Sky by Al Lacy Page B

wouldn’t get to see the children!”
    Bateman laughed. “Well, even if your cooking was horrible, Hannah, I’d come and eat it just to see those three younguns again… and to meet the little one.”
    “Good,” Hannah said. Then, putting on her best English accent, she said, “Dinnah will be suhved at seven.”
    Everybody laughed, remembering what good times they’d had together around Hannah’s table.
    The Coopers spent a few more minutes talking with their old friends, then Solomon gave directions on how to find the farm and offered to come in the family wagon and pick them up. The colonel refused, saying they would come in an army wagon, and they would be there promptly at fifteen minutes before seven.
    At half past six the next evening, darkness was settling over the land when Colonel Bateman and Major Crawley helped their wives into the army wagon. The air was cool, as it had been for the past few nights.
    The women rode on the second seat while Darrell Crawley held the reins and Ross Bateman sat beside him.
    The moon was beginning to cast its silvery spell over the hills, creating shadows in the low spots. When the wagon turned off Main Street and headed north, Sylvia said, “I wonder if Hannah has her house fixed up as darling as she kept their quarters at the forts.”
    “I would imagine so,” Christel said. “She has such a way of tastefully putting things together.”
    When the wagon turned off the road into the Cooper yard, the four were greeted with bright lanterns on posts that illuminated the front of the white two-story house.
    “Just as I figured,” Christel said. “You can see Hannah’s personality all over it.”
    The house had a wide porch across the front and on one side, forming an L. Bright potted plants adorned the porch railing, and comfortable red-and-white gingham padded chairs looked inviting.
    The black shutters contrasted with the soft yellow glow of lanterns from inside that flowed through snow-white lace curtains.
    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Darrell said, pulling the wagon to a halt in front of the porch.
    The front door swung open, and the entire Cooper family came out on the porch, the children preceding their parents. Patty Ruth stayed close to her mother, holding Ulysses in the crook of her arm.
    Chris and Mary Beth remembered their guests, and B. J. smiled as the visitors marveled at how all three had grown so much in the past five years.
    Then all attention was turned to the little redhead looking on with big blue eyes.
    “So this is Patty Ruth!” Colonel Bateman said, bending low and placing his hands on his thighs. “My, aren’t you a pretty little thing!” The others made over Patty Ruth, commenting on how much she resembled her mother and sister.
    Patty Ruth smiled, curtsied politely, and thanked them.
    “My, what a sweet child!” Sylvia Bateman said, while the others nodded in agreement.
    Unnoticed by the adults, Chris and B. J. exchanged glances, as if to say Mrs. Bateman’s comment about Patty Ruth was absurd. The little redhead saw them and stuck out her tongue.
    Inside, the guests looked around appreciatively at the decorations and furnishings. The parlor was so warm and cozy with a cheerful fire reflected in the polished hardwood floors.
    While the men talked to Solomon and the women chatted animatedly with Hannah, Patty Ruth edged closer to her father.When she reached his side, she looked up at the two army officers and smiled.
    The conversation broke off and Colonel Bateman looked down. “Hello, Patty Ruth. My, that’s some bear you have there. Does it have a name?”
    “Yes, sir. He’s not an it, he’s a he. His name is Ulysses.”
    Bateman’s head bobbed. “Ulysses?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Did you hear that, Major Crawley?”
    “Yes, sir.” The major bent down to Patty Ruth’s height and said, “Did you name him, honey?”
    “Sort of. My papa helped me. He’s named after President Ulysses S. Grant, who was the gen’ral my papa fighted