Swan's Way by Becky Lee Weyrich

already it’s become quite an attraction for visitors.”
    They had to wait while a detachment of U.S. Marines marched past. Considerable excitement was aroused among the bystanders on the street, seeing so many uniformed troops in one place. Ginna heard one man nearby say to his companion, “General Winfield Scott’s getting ready, all right.”
    A glance up at Channing told Ginna that he had heard too. “Ready for what?” she asked. “What are those men talking about?”
    Channing’s hesitation made it clear that he didn’t want to give her a reply. It didn’t matter. She got her answer from the source of the question. The man with the bullhorn voice bellowed, “They’re off to reinforce Fort Sumter, down by Charleston. When war breaks out, we’ll need that outpost, deep in rebel territory.”
    “War?” Ginna gasped, clutching Channing’s arm tighter.
    “Don’t pay any attention to that, dearest. The man has no idea what he’s talking about. I have it on good authority that those Marines are up from Washington and will be garrisoned at Bedloe’s Island. The military is always on the move, shifting troops from one post to another. It means nothing, Virginia.”
    Ginna was not quite convinced.
    Once the Marines had passed, Channing said, “Let’s go see that statue now.”
    Braving the horse-drawn traffic, they crossed to the center of the intersection at Broadway and Fourth Avenue to get a closer look. The huge bronze of Washington towered above them on its stone base, surrounded by an iron spear fence and four elegant lampposts.
    “It’s magnificent!” Ginna said, duly impressed. She had seen pictures of this very statue in history books. She knew that in the twentieth century the monument would be moved from the busy intersection to nearby Union Square Park.
    “This is supposed to be the very spot where the general was received by the citizens of New York after the British evacuated the city on November 25, 1783.”
    Ginna glanced up at Channing, her lovely eyes glittering. “I’m impressed! So many dates and details. You certainly know your history.”
    “Thanks to West Point,” he answered. “It’s my favorite subject, military history in particular.”
    A question popped into her head—one that seemed innocent enough. “What made a Southerner like you decide on West Point?”
    His dark eyebrows drew down in a frown. “Virginia, what a question! You of all people know that. Why, haven’t you and your brother and my father been after me all my life to go to the Academy? That’s all I heard from the time I was old enough to pick up a toy saber. Father had me enrolled by the time I was ten, the same time Colonel Swan enrolled Rodney. And you , why, you always said you could hardly wait to be an officer’s wife— this officer’s wife.”
    Swan! Channing’s mention of that name made some more of the pieces of this exasperating puzzle fall into place. The “Colonel Swan” Channing mentioned must be Virginia’s father, and Rodney her older brother. She had heard Elspeth telling the family history on more than one occasion. “Dear Miss Virginia, the prettiest belle in the Frederick County.” Ginna tried very hard to recall what else she had heard from Elspeth and the others. She knew that Virginia had supposedly hit a Yankee over the head with the old silver teapot, scarring it forevermore. She had always assumed, though, that the tea-time tales of the Swan family were mere fabrications used by the three women to while away lonely hours.
    “We had better move along now, darling. I promised your mother and father that we would meet them back at the hotel by two. They’ll never trust me alone with you again if we’re late.”
    Melora and Jedediah . The names of Virginia’s parents suddenly surfaced in Ginna’s memory. He had been a colonel in the Civil War. His wife had donated their plantation as an old soldiers’ home when the rest of the family died off and Melora herself was