by Lane, Cheryl
Ethan walked around the corner and smiled when he saw me. “Thank God you’re safe.” We walked towards each other, and upon reaching me, he lifted me up and into his arms. “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you this morning. I thought you might have left me or been kidnapped or drown in the river. You don’t know how many terrible images went through my head.” He put me back down in the dirt of the stable.
“Did you not find my letter? I left it on the piano by our wedding photograph.”
“I just now found it, after looking all over the house and riding Blackfoot all down by the river. Why would you go off on a ride by yourself? It’s dangerous out there…especially when you were close to being shot yesterday by a horrible blackguard.” I deserved the lecture. He was right, of course. I was glad Jonas escorted me back.
“I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I woke up early and couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you, so I took an early ride to see if my brother was home, which he was, so we visited a while.” I would have to tell him later about my visit with Jonas. Right now, I wanted him to know about Jefferson. “Ethan, he’s here,” I whispered, and quickly told him about Jefferson being outside.
Ethan pulled a gun out of his right boot leg and took my hand and we walked slowly to the door of the stables. Ethan pointed his gun in front of him, looking in all directions but saw no one. Once we reached the door, Ethan kicked it open with his boot, waiting a moment before going out. I hid behind him. There was no sound. He walked outside first, looking all around for signs of Jefferson. Then he put his arm around me, and we hurried over past the bachelor’s quarters to the house and went inside through the river-front door. Ethan still held the gun in his hand.
Once inside, Ethan yelled for Jonas to come with him outside and to bring his gun, explaining that Jeff was prowling around outside. On his way out, Jonas apologized for leaving me alone outside, that he didn’t think anyone had followed us all the way to the plantation.
“It’s all right,” I said. “Just go.” He went on out with Ethan. I watched from the doorway and saw Jake and Zeke coming from the fields, who joined in the hunt. The dogs followed them, as well, barking excitedly.
I stayed inside with Edward, Clarissa, Lillie, and Elizabeth. Cora and the girls were out in their quarters in the kitchen house. Edward had a hard time hobbling around with his partial wooden leg, and so he told them he’d stay and protect the ladies of the house.
I told the others what was going on. Elizabeth went to the sitting room, while I paced in the parlor, looking out the windows anxiously. Clarissa took Lillie upstairs, after Lillie gave me a slobbery kiss, and Edward returned to his study.
Soon, I saw the four men return, coming through the river-front door, and I met them in the main hall. “We couldn’t find him,” Ethan said to me. He took my hand and led me to see his father in his study. “Father, have you searched the inside of the house? He may have slipped in when no one was aware.”
His father had not, nor had any of us. I asked Ethan if he’d checked on Cora and the girls, and he said that he had and that they were fine. He told me to stay in the study while he and the others checked the house. I looked around at Edward, who had a scowl on his face, his forehead wrinkled in thought. I got the feeling he didn’t like me, but maybe he was just worried. He had only been fairly pleasant to me since I arrived. I supposed he was just a busy man.
“Have a seat, Madeline.” He motioned for me to sit on a curved dark green sofa over by the windows. He went back to polishing a hand gun that lay on his desk. I turned around to sit down on the sofa. There was a painting of a soldier from the Revolutionary War between the two windows, above the sofa. I suddenly remembered that the soldier was Ethan’s great-grandfather, who’d been a Patriot who had fought against the British.
“That was my granddaddy Baldwin Wellington,” Edward said. He must have noticed me looking at the painting. “He was a good man. He fought for freedom and achieved it.” I sat down quietly and smiled at Edward. He continued polishing his gun.
Edward was probably around 50, still had some dark hair mixed with gray. He had dark bushy eyebrows and eyes the same color as Ethan’s, though not as bright. The skin on his face was tan and slightly wrinkled, and he had a full beard on his chin that was also graying. I suddenly remembered how he had looked when I used to come over here when Ethan and I were courting. He used to be much thinner and much friendlier. He used to call me Linn, a nickname I loathed but tolerated because he was Ethan’s father.
“Madeline, I understand you’ve been getting some flashes of memory back. How much do you remember about me?” he asked.
I looked up and found him watching me, his eyes squinted. He looked like he was trying to size me up, or perhaps the sun shining through the front window was too bright for him. “Well, sir, I just now remembered how you looked when I was younger. You had darker hair then, and you used to call me Linn.” I didn’t want to mention that he’d put on weight, obviously, as he might take offense to that.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Linn. I had forgotten about that. The war does funny things to your memory, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Apparently it does, sir. I still don’t recall any of the war.”
“Hmm, I see. Well, I’m sure in time it will come to you,” he said. He looked back down at his gun again. For some reason, that made me feel uncomfortable. Of course, he was just getting prepared to protect us if he had to, if Jefferson were to come in the house, but it seemed there was more to it than that. I hadn’t felt comfortable around Edward at mealtimes either. I didn’t remember feeling wary about him before I lost my memory. It seemed like there was something I was supposed to remember about him, but I just couldn’t.
Ethan came back into the study moments later and told us that he and the other guys had looked through the whole house but found nothing. He walked with me into the sitting room where Clarissa and Elizabeth had gathered, telling them the same thing.
“We couldn’t find him. Hopefully I scared him off when I went into the stables, but we must all be very careful and keep our eyes on the lookout.” Clarissa and I eyed each other worriedly, and then I looked at Ethan. I realized how foolish I had been going off by myself the way I did, and that I was lucky to have such a fine gentleman that cared so much about me and protected me.
Ethan vowed that he would not leave my side for the rest of the day.
Chapter 12
Love Letters
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting on a bench inside the gazebo, overlooking the James. Ethan had left me only for a moment to check on the progress with fixing one of the stable doors that was hanging improperly. He guessed he had damaged it when he kicked it open with his boot earlier. Jonas had stayed and offered to repair it. Ethan joined me moments later, sitting down beside me on the bench.
“How are you doing?” he asked me.
“Oh, I’m fine. I should be used to all this excitement by now. My life hasn’t been normal for quite a while.”
Ethan caressed my cheek with his hand. “I’m so sorry this is happening, love. It’s all my fault. I had thought he was my friend, but then found out he was a traitor. I can’t believe he’s come back for revenge.”
“Perhaps he’s just angry that I refused him,” I said.
“Perhaps,” he said, thoughtfully.
“You said I met him here before?”
“Yes, right after the war. Mother had one of her gatherings for all of us coming home from the war. He only stayed a few days, and then said he was heading over to City Point where he had apparently lived before the war, which of course had been a lie, since he was really from East Tennessee.”
“But he did live in City Point while he was coming to see me. He took me to his plantation home on the Appomattox River. I don’t know how he could live in Virginia and be a Yankee.”
Ethan frowned. “At any rate, while he was here, I remember that he and Father had stayed up half the night on his last n
ight here. Jeff had lost his father before the war, so at the time, I just thought he needed a fatherly figure to relate to and that he was having a hard time getting over things he saw in the war. The next day, however, Father took him to the sheriff for being a traitor. Father had figured it all out while they had been talking. When did he try to kiss you?”
“It was on the last day he was here, I suppose. I just remember that he found me in this gazebo.” I explained to Ethan how he forced himself on me and pleaded for just a little kiss, as it had been so long since he’d been with a woman.
Ethan was furious. “Him kissing you – more than once – and all those lies he told you, pretending to be your betrothed, knowing you were my wife all along, makes me furious, not to mention trying to shoot you in Williamsburg, and then daring to come here on my plantation. If I ever find him again, I’ll kill him, I swear I will.”
I knew he would need to vent about all of that eventually. He had been so sweet about Jefferson courting me before, but I understood why he would be angry. I would be, too, if I were in his place.
He had mentioned that the war had been hard on Jefferson. It must have been hard on everyone. “The war must have been very hard for you, too,” I said, putting my hand on top of his.
He took my hand in his and kissed it. “It was, but I had you to come home to. That’s one of the reasons why I took it so hard when you disappeared. I didn’t have you to comfort me anymore, to keep the bad dreams at bay.”
“Aw, Ethan. You’re making me want to cry.” I kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad I can comfort you now,” I said, stroking his cheek gently.
“So am I,” he said tenderly. “I apologize if I seemed harsh this morning when I found you, but I was truly worried. I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t know what I’d do if I did.”
“No, it’s fine. I deserved it. It was foolish of me to go off by myself, even if the wolfies did follow me.”
“You remember that nickname?”
“Yes, Jonas reminded me, and I remembered the day you brought them home from the war.”
“You do?” he asked, excitedly.
“Yes, how long your hair was, and how full your beard was,” I said, while stroking his hair and beard. “I had other memories of my childhood, too.” I told him about remembering more adventures we had as children and about remembering my mother and father for the first time. It seemed strange that I remembered Ethan before I did my own parents.
“That’s wonderful! I’m so glad,” he said.
I suddenly remembered hiding those things in the floorboard of the attic of my old home, like Jonas had told me. My eyes lit up. “Ethan, Jonas told me and I just remembered that I hid some photographs, paintings, and birth records in the attic of my old home. I had loosened up a few floorboards and stuck them under there, covering them back up so they would be hidden when the Yankees came. Jonas even told me that he found the paintings still there after he came back from the war. I remember having personal items, as well. A brush and mirror set my mother gave me, the letters you wrote me during the war. Where are those things? Did I leave personal things here…” I swallowed hard. “In our bedchambers?”
Ethan looked at me, his eyes suddenly burning with intensity. “Yes, you did,” he said softly. “Perhaps seeing those things and our rooms will help your memory. I should have thought of sooner. Shall we go up and have a look?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling my heart racing at the prospect of seeing the bedchambers we had shared when we were married.
We went inside and up the staircase to the second floor, and then Ethan picked up a lit lantern. He explained that there was no light in this part of the staircase, that we had wanted privacy and so had closed off the staircase to the third floor with a door. He then opened a door I had not noticed before, which was built into the wall and hidden. It looked like part of the wall, even with wallpaper from the hall on it. It was in the middle of the hallway. Ethan led me through the door and up another staircase, which was also two separate staircases divided by a landing, leading up to the third floor. The staircase was narrower and there were no windows, which was why we needed the lantern. At the top of the staircase, Ethan opened another door, allowing sunlight to light shine in the stairwell. I followed him into the hall and looked around. It was designed exactly like the floor below it, with a main straight hall and doors directly across the hall from each other, the staircase stopping at a door this time, which was directly across from another door.
It was much warmer up on this floor, but I felt a breeze from the open dormer windows at each end of the hall. Ethan led me straight across the hall from the stairs into the nursery. As I walked into the nursery, I drew a quick intake of breath; it was just as I had remembered it yesterday when I got the vision of these rooms. This room was furnished with a high baby bed made of walnut with finials in the four corners and an intricately patterned headboard, and was draped with muslin. There was also a walnut rocking chair with big arm rests, and an old chest for clothing. A fireplace stood against the wall opposite the carriage side window. The nursery had one window by the rocking chair and another by the baby bed, both of which were open.
I looked at the baby bed with the muslin pulled back, and suddenly I could see a tiny baby dressed in pink. Lillie Rose. She had been crying, and I’d picked her up, as Ethan came over to us and gave us both a kiss on our foreheads. This was a new memory. I walked over to the area in my memory where Ethan had approached us. It was through a door which led into the master bedchamber which Ethan and I had shared. I stepped into the sun-laden room and saw our 4-poster tobacco-carved canopy bed, which stood in the middle of the room under a small window, which was open to allow cool air in. It was covered with a rose-colored spread over a horse hair mattress, I suddenly remembered. Muslin was draped around the canopy at the top and hanging down at the 4 posts, pulled back and sashed. There was another fireplace that shared the same wall as the fireplace in the nursery. A high top chest of drawers was on the wall across from the bed, and there was another door beside it that led out into the hall. The walls were covered with faded green wallpaper with pink and burgundy roses, and there was a settee at the bottom end of the bed covered in a deep burgundy fabric. There was another window overlooking the gardens and river, and a washstand stood beside it in the corner close to the bed.
I looked at our bed and realized this was indeed the room I had seen in my visions when I saw the two of us having relations. I dared a look at Ethan, who was watching me. His eyes bore into mine, and I had a sudden physical longing for him. I had to remind myself why we came up here…to see if I could get more memories. I was having memories all right, just not the kind I was looking for. Ethan walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer, pulling out some of my things. He showed me a silver brush/comb/mirror set that my mother had given me when I was about 12. I remembered looking at myself in that mirror for the first time, pretending to be a grown-up, batting my eyelashes, being silly. And then I had looked in it again on my wedding day, wondering what the future held.
Ethan also pulled out photographs of my parents and Jonas, and finally a bundle of letters tied up in a lavender-colored ribbon, which he handed to me. I sat down on the settee and took the ribbon off and began reading the love letters I had gotten from Ethan when we were courting. Ethan sat beside me, our legs touching lightly, and read with me. Some were written while we were in our early ‘teens when we finally started seeing each other as more than friends. They were amusing, and we both laughed at some of them. Others were written during the war and were much more serious. One in particular read:
“My dearest Maddie:
I have not slept for two days. We are very busy in battle – I cannot tell you where. I’ve seen more blood and pain than I care to see for the rest of my life. I only want to see your beautiful face, your green eyes that sparkle in the sun, your wavy brown hair that gently caresses your shoulders, and I long to feel your loving arms around me.
Oh! How I wish this war would end so I could come home to you, my love.” It was dated 1863.
Next I read a poem he had written:
“It is the saddest thing
To finally fall in love
Then to be taken away
From that love.
Nevertheless it will be
The sweetest thing
To be reunited
Once again…
And all the turmoil
And pain
And sadness
Will be replaced
By the wonderful love
Shared only by two.”
“What a beautiful poem, Ethan.”
I found some letters that I had written to him, as well. He couldn’t keep them all, he said, as he had lost some in the process of moving around during the war, but he was able to keep a small few.
One letter I wrote said,
“Dearest Ethan:
My mother died. I abhor bringing bad news to you while you’re out there fighting, but I had to pour out my grief. I’m devastated. I don’t know how I’ll live without her. She got sick and never recovered. I hate this war. I need you so much, Ethan. I wish you were here to comfort me. Your dear mother and Fanny came to comfort me and help me bury my mother. We had to do it in the dead of night, tromping across the lonely grounds of the plantation, trying to carry a heavy load in a respectful way. She and Fanny will be staying here with me now, for which I am grateful. I hope this letter finds you well, my love.
Forever Yours, Maddie.”
Tears streamed down my face. I read another letter from Ethan that followed the one I wrote to him about my mother.
“My dearest Maddie: I’m so sorry about your mother. She was a dear lady. I fervently wish I was there to comfort you in your time of need. As I cannot be there, I will simply send you my love through this letter and hope it helps you to feel a small token of hope and happiness. It’s not much better here on the warfront. I saw a good comrade of mine get killed in a battle. It was horrible. I need you every bit as much as you need me. Yours, Ethan