The major thought, "Well this prosperous 'big mule' is tired of our company. Guess if I were him, I would be too. Lots of pasture, fodder and vittles leaving this part of the world with us - inside or carried. And now 'my general' talk from his daughter!" He smiled as he favored a fine piece of baked ham and big fresh yeast roll.
"Joseph, can you tell us any of your plans?" Miss Daniella said directly to the crisply attired and now fully smitten young general.
"Ma'am, it's a bit uncertain. Of course you may ask such." He offered an open face and warm countenance. "We're off to Gunterstown to confer with General Bragg about what is required of my command. The command will camp there while I go to confer with General Bragg at Dalton."
The party ended earlier than the general would have wished. It seemed that Jones wanted his guests and contingency to have adequate time to get ready to get away from him and his, especially the young, single, gallant general.
At the front porch farewell Daniella said, "My General, know my prayers and best wishes attend you. Please come this way again. Caladonia will always welcome you."
"Miss Daniella, may you and yours be safe. My thoughts, wherever I go, will include you, young Richard, and family. Until we meet again." The general bowed slightly and gently shook her small-gloved hand.
He paused after that gesture and added, "Ma'am, be assured Caladonia and all who warm by its hearth are dear to my heart," Joseph said to the little hostess as he smiled into her deep blue eyes.
"General Wheeler, you and your troops are welcome at my place anytime we can be fortunate enough to have you," the scion of north Alabama said with the dignity of a medieval baron. It was an attempt to put a good face on his obvious feelings about this man and his attention to his daughter.
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"Anymore cake, Ma'am?" J. N. asked the big gray-haired black cook as he and another of General Wheeler's escorts sat in the servants' table at the Jones mansion. The kitchen was in one of the spacious separate buildings twenty feet from the back door to the Caladonia Plantation house.
"Yes, course I got more cake. You want a third helping soldier?" Betty, the Jones' cook for thirty years inquired of J. N. with a laugh.
"Yes Ma'am, if I may," J. N. quietly replied.
"Nothing like a third helpin' to make a cook feel good 'bout her cookin'," Betty said with a deep accent and bass voice. She cut a hearty piece of the white cake for the complimentary young soldier.