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His name was Emmet Patterson,
and back in 1863,
he led a cavalry unit
patrolling deep in Tennessee.

The state was firm in Union hands,
Tte Civil War in its third year,
but the threat of partisan raids
meant that he was still stationed here.

There were many in his unit,
but he took a keen liking to
a young man they called Abner Brandt,
a brave, irrepressible youth.

It was clear he’d lied about age,
he couldn’t be more than sixteen,
but he was earnest, and fought well,
even if a little bit green.

Emmet tried to protect the kid,
as much as anybody could,
he’d seen lots of death since Bull Run,
he’d seen more than any man should.

After a sharp fight near Boonsville,
where bushwhackers were put to flight,
Emmet found himself separated,
with Abner riding on his right.

The woods were still thick with rebels,
too much for two men on their own,
Emmet said, “We’ll take the long way.
Ride now, kid. We’ve got to go!”

For hours they rode through valleys,
senses perked up on high alert,
picking their way through back hollows,
their carbines ready to deal hurt.

It was in this careful travel,
making their way through the back trails,
that they found themselves a large farm,
as their horses and daylight failed.

There was a young woman outside
who looked to be near Abner’s age,
she showed no fear when they rode up,
just smiled and scampered away.

A woman came moments later,
and on the front porch she did stand,
Emmet paused at the sight of her,
she had looks that would stun any man.

Her hair was black, straight and flowing,
her eyes were a bright, Kelly green,
alabaster skin, sculpted features,
he half thought this might be a dream.

She was somewhere in her thirties,
and frowned as two Yankees drew close.
“We need to water our horses,”
Emmet said, “Come morning, we’ll go.”

The woman did not looked amused,
said, “There’s only us women here.
I can’t stop you taking what you want...
have me, so my niece need not fear.”

Emmet cocked his head at her words,
at the tired look in her eyes,
said, “Abner, hobble the horses,
when you’re done, make your way inside.”

The young man set off to his work,
Emmet walked into the main house,
It seemed it had been quite nice once,
but was looking a little run down.

The woman wouldn’t met his eye,
seemed resigned to some dismal fate,
said, “I don’t want her to be harmed,
she’s too young to know all this hate.”

CONTINUES IN PART II.
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