Free Songs of the Shenandoah by Michael K. Reynolds Page A

is at least a hundred years old. I am afraid the poor fellow’s heart would give at the first gunshot. Who else?”
    Clare went through the few options that remained in their editorial office, and none of them would be capable. They had counted on Ben Jones to take all of the most difficult assignments. He interviewed the hardest of criminals, went to the darkest of neighborhoods, and as a soldier once himself he was perfect to cover the war.
    Almost simultaneously Owen and Clare spoke. “I’ll go.”
    They exchanged equally surprised looks at each other.
    â€œYou can’t write a decent story,” Clare said.
    â€œWe aren’t sending a woman,” Owen responded.
    â€œNeither of you are going.” Andrew clasped his hands. “But you’re both right. We don’t have anyone else. It will have to be me.”
    â€œAndrew,” Clare said. “You can’t go. You’re the only indispensable one we have in this building. If you don’t replace the advertising I just lost, we won’t need to worry about covering the battle.”
    Owen wagged a finger at Clare. “She’s right.”
    â€œOf course I’m right.” Clare was surprised she was getting excited about the idea of being there to give a firsthand account of the battle. “We can’t afford to hire Ben Jones’s replacement, and even if we could, there isn’t enough time. Besides, everyone is saying there will only be one battle in the war. The Union is going to make short order of this, and we can’t be the only newspaper that missed the coverage. The Daily needs this story and to do it well. My mind is clear on this now. I am the only one who makes sense.”
    â€œI am not sending my wife and the mother of my children to the battlefield to dodge musket balls hurled from Johnny Reb. I would much rather shut this all down once and for all and open up . . . a fruit stand.”
    â€œHow about we both go?” Owen looked to Clare for her support.
    â€œBrilliant.” There was certainly a part of her that would be terrified to take on such an assignment. Having Owen along would quell those concerns.
    Andrew started to shake his head, but Clare could see his protest starting to wobble.
    â€œJust for this battle,” Clare said. “We’ll keep a safe distance. I promise, I won’t stab one Virginian with a bayonet.”
    â€œDear, please.”
    Clare sensed he was weakening and pounced. “No. This will be good. We’ll keep a close eye on one of the New York regiments, and I’ll do a story on the bravery of the Irish soldiers. We’ll win that dour Mr. Murphy back, as well as the whole of the Five Points.”
    Owen nodded toward her. “That’s why she’s writing it.” He reached over and gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll take fine care of her, I will. You know I’d lay my life down for the two of you.”
    â€œYes.” Andrew looked up to his friend. “I know you would.” He pulled out his watch by the chain in his pocket. “Then if you’re going to leave—”
    â€œWe’ll need to leave immediately.” Clare came around and gave him a hug. “I’ll stop at the house and pack and say good-bye to the children.”
    â€œYou know it’s gruesome to be this excited about going to war.” Andrew raised his eyebrow.
    â€œOh, dear.” She kissed him on the cheek. “My excitement is getting to help you. The Daily . To lift some of this burden from your shoulders.”
    â€œI better get going,” Owen said. “Ben Jones was supposed to ride with a group of reporters who were going to catch the same train. I’ll let them know two more will be joining them.” He turned and left.
    â€œI should go as well.” Clare headed toward the door, then paused. “We’re going to make it through this.”
    Then she scurried out the door