Confederate Saddle

Young Levon Lewis wants nothing more than to continue to ride his prized horse across the lush, green Shenandoah Valley, far removed from the growing conflict in the North. But after running afoul of a local brutal militia leader who marked him for death, Levon, along with his cousin, Wilson, reluctantly join the Confederate cavalry as scouts. 

Few escape the savagery of the bloodiest battle in American history, though, and Levon ends up coming face to face with what he thought he could avoid by becoming a scout: the horrors of the American Civil War. 

The following is an excerpt from Confederate Saddle 

CHAPTER ONE 

The Southern Shenandoah Valley

Early May, 1861

The Lewis Farm 

     The horses were at a full gallop as we raced into the courtyard, throwing up large clumps of mud in our wake. Reining in our heaving mounts, my cousin, Wilson, “Damn, Levon you must be cheating’ I was a couple of lengths ahead of you when we past the big pine,” he said, gesturing toward the gnarled pine that sat as a solitary sentinel on the top of the hill.
     I chuckled. “Ah, quit complaining, Wilson. You Missouri boys can’t compare to us Virginians when it comes to superior horseflesh and riding.” My cousin’s family had fled the unrest that had been roiling across the Missouri territory. The pro and anti-slavery folks were pitted against each other, eager to stake a claim to the region with beliefs that mirrored their own.
     My cousin’s family owned slaves, as did my family, so my uncle and father figured the family would be safer down here in the southern Shenandoah. Virginia was a decidedly slave-owning state, and nobody was gonna change that. My father owned about 40 or so and it wasn’t a problem. Now, up north, there was some name-calling. I won’t deny that, but my father didn’t appear to be too worried.

     My name is Levon Lewis and I live here with parents and sisters, Alexandria and Quinn, in the southern Shenandoah Valley around Wytheville. While walking the horses to cool them down, Wilson asked, “How is Caleb doing up there at school? You hear from him often?”
     He was referring to my brother who was a cadet at the Virginia Military Institute. “Ah, we get the occasional letter from him. He is up there with one of our neighbors. Been up there about a year. Father said he needed to grow up.”