Warmth spread through her when he spoke those words. She had believed Jacob loved her, but when he’d disappeared without a word, she’d begun to doubt his intentions. Her brother’s confirmation of Jacob’s love gave her comfort. Yet why hadn’t he sent word?
“Whenever Jacob wasn’t going to be on his regular route, he would always send a note with one of the other soldiers so that I wouldn’t worry. This time, he didn’t send word. I’ve been so worried about what happened to him, and I don’t understand why he didn’t send a message. I’m sure there must have been opportunity for him to do so during the past few days.”
She stared at her brother, hoping he would give her some explanation. While she could understand Samuel’s inability to communicate with his family, Jacob had only an ankle injury. He could still write a note.
“I think you should talk to Jacob about that. If all goes as expected, he should be on the train the day after tomorrow. I think he can better explain his reasons.”
Sarah had hoped for more, but she wouldn’t pursue the matter. Her brother didn’t like to be pushed.
“How are plans for the Christmas musicale? Does Miss Evans have everyone hard at work practicing their parts?”
The sudden change in topic affirmed the fact that the subject of Jacob was now closed.
When Jacob arrived at the station two days later, Sarah was eagerly awaiting him. His crutches had been replaced by a cane. He’d attempted to convince the doctor he didn’t need either but had lost the battle. His heart swelled as Sarah rushed toward him, and in spite of the many passengers on the platform, he wrapped her in a warm embrace.
“I’m so happy to see you. I didn’t expect you to be here.”
She lifted her face and looked into his eyes. “I’ve met every train coming from Chicago since the day after you left Decatur. I knew you’d be on one of them. I just wish it hadn’t taken so long or that I would have known that you were in the hospital so I wouldn’t have worried.”
A pang of guilt stabbed him and he nodded. “I know I should have sent word. I’ll explain everything.”
Sarah clung to his arm as they crossed the platform and entered the station. “I have the buggy waiting out front. I didn’t want you to have to walk far.”
Her thoughtfulness touched him. He didn’t deserve her kindness. He didn’t deserve her trust. He didn’t deserve her. Since his talk with Samuel, Jacob had spent a great deal of time in thought and prayer. While he knew he was soon going to tell her about his past betrayal and his recent confusion and pain, he had hoped to wait for just a little longer. He had planned to enjoy a short reprieve and delight in her presence before telling her why she hadn’t heard from him. But she was eager for answers to countless questions, and she shouldn’t have to wait any longer.
He leaned heavily on the cane as they crossed the station and walked outside to the awaiting buggy. A light snow had begun to fall, and Sarah tipped her head back, looked toward the sky, and stuck out her tongue. “I love to try and catch snowflakes on my tongue. When Samuel and I were children, we would sit on the steps outside the bakery doing this. Eventually the customers became familiar with our antics and didn’t think we were sticking our tongues out at them.”
Jacob chuckled and then stopped and stuck out his tongue. He waited until he felt the dampness of a snowflake before he closed his mouth. “I’m not sure I’d have had the patience to do this when I was a child. I was more interested in making snowballs and tossing them at my friends.”
“I must admit we had our share of snowball fights, too.” She pointed to his leg. “Since your ankle isn’t completely healed, are you expected to return to Cairo before Christmas?”
“No. The doctor released me from the hospital, but he signed orders that I couldn’t return to duty until after the first of the year. Even then, I have to be examined by one of the military doctors in Cairo before they’ll let me return to my duties on the hospital trains.”
“So you’ll be here with us for Christmas? How perfect it will be to have both you and Samuel at the table for Christmas dinner.”
“I’m not so sure you’ll want me at the dinner table once you hear what I have to tell you.” His voice caught when he saw the fear that shone in her eyes. “We need to go somewhere quiet where we can be alone.”
“Well, home won’t work because I know my parents and Samuel are eager to visit with you.” She hesitated a moment. “We could stop at the church. Choir practice doesn’t begin for another hour.”
Jacob nodded. The church would be the perfect place for him to reveal Laura’s betrayal as well as the recent fears and jealousy he’d harbored since receiving her locket. He’d already confessed and received God’s forgiveness. Whether Sarah would be as understanding remained to be seen. He’d done his best to prepare himself, but if Sarah walked away, he’d need every ounce of faith he could muster to carry on.
The church door creaked when Jacob pulled on the handle, but once they slipped into a rear pew, the building was eerily quiet. Sarah folded her hands in her lap and turned toward him. Detecting her fear and apprehension, he resolved to keep her waiting no longer.
As the story unfolded, he maintained a close watch on her. She pulled back when he revealed what he’d thought upon seeing the soldier’s picture inside the locket and disclosed that his bewilderment and jealousy had taken hold. “I didn’t send word because I didn’t know what to say or think when I saw the picture inside your locket.”
Jacob went on to detail all that Samuel had said in the chapel meeting at the hospital and how the message had impacted him.
“Even when I still thought Samuel was your beau, I asked God to forgive me, and I promised to accept whatever plans He had for my future. I know I don’t deserve your understanding, but I’m begging you to give me another chance.”
For several moments, Sarah remained quiet and seemed to consider all he’d told her. “Knowing what happened to you with Laura helps me understand so much of what’s happened between us. I wish you would have told me before now. It also explains your confusion and lack of trust when you saw Samuel’s picture in the locket. Still, I thought that you knew me better and believed me when I told you I didn’t have a beau.”
He bowed his head. “I know I’ve wronged you, and I apologize. If you can’t forgive me, I understand.”
Sarah reached forward and lifted his chin. “I forgive you, Jacob. I want to build a future with you, and I believe that what began as only a pinch of love will continue to grow if we are careful to leaven our union with truth and love. Please promise me there will be no more secrets.”
“You have my word.” He leaned forward and lightly kissed her lips. “I love you, Sarah. You’re the best Christmas gift any man could ever hope for.”
On Christmas Eve, Sarah, Jacob, and Samuel hurried off to the station to help prepare for the arrival of the hospital train. Sarah and the other ladies of the Basket Brigade had taken unusual care to prepare their best treats for the soldiers they would serve on this evening.
Along with sandwiches and kettles of soup and stew the ladies filled their baskets with jars of jams and jellies, a variety of cookies, and the oranges that had been specially ordered by Silas Tait. Bright red and green bows adorned the basket handles, and a few of the ladies even tied small bells to their hampers. Lucy Maddox and her group of ladies arrived with knitted socks, scarves, blankets, and quilts. Many of the items had been wrapped in brown paper and tied with colorful pieces of leftover yarn. They’d almost completed their preparations when Zona Evans and members of her singing group arrived and gathered on the platform where they would entertain the soldiers with Christmas carols while the Basket Brigade boarded the train with their food and gifts.
Excitement pulsed through the depot when the train chugged into the station and squealed to a stop. Though the doctor would not have approved, Jacob insisted upon helping Sarah deliver food to his regular car. He didn’t know any of the wounded soldiers, but feelings of gra
titude assailed him as he walked through the car handing out food and delivering cheer where he could. Gratitude that he’d been assigned to this position; gratitude that he’d met Sarah; and gratitude that God had forgiven him and directed his steps toward a future with Sarah.
After completing their deliveries, they stepped back to the platform and listened as the carolers continued to sing for the men. When the train whistled to signal the departure, looks of wistfulness shone in the eyes of soldiers who had gathered near the windows. All of them remained on the platform until the train was out of sight.
Once inside the depot, Jacob reached for Sarah’s hand. “I have a special gift for you. I’d like to give it to you this evening rather than in the morning, if that’s all right.”
Sarah grinned. “I’ve never liked to wait to open presents.”
Jacob led her to the far side of the depot to the small alcove where they’d first kissed, and he reached into his pocket. “I hope you like it.”
Sarah gazed at the small box that had been tied with a thin piece of red ribbon. Instead of the gift, Jacob stared at Sarah. He wanted to gauge her reaction when she opened the gift he’d so carefully chosen for her. When she lifted the lid and withdrew the heart-shaped locket pin, her lips curved in a huge smile, and her eyes shone with delight when she momentarily looked up at him before snapping open the locket.
“I was hoping I’d discover your picture inside. It’s a wonderful gift, Jacob. Now I can keep both you and Samuel close to my heart.”
He nodded, somewhat embarrassed by her praise. “I didn’t have time to have it engraved, but I’ll make sure there’s an inscription before I go back to Cairo.”
“And what words have you planned?”
“To my future wife.” He grinned. “Would that be acceptable?”
“That would be most acceptable.”
He leaned down, wrapped her in a warm embrace, and captured her lips with a kiss to seal their future.
About the Author
Judith Miller is an award-winning author whose avid research and love for history are reflected in her novels, many of which have appeared on the CBA bestseller lists. Judy makes her home in Topeka, Kansas. You an find her online at www.judithmccoymiller.com
Endless Melody
by
Nancy Moser
“My Dear Friend. You are not my husband nor son; but you are the husband or son of some woman who undoubtedly loves you as I love mine. I have made these garments for you with a heart that aches for your sufferings …”
—Note accompanying an aid society shipment to the US Sanitary Commission’s Northwest Branch at Chicago
Chapter 1
November 1862
Decatur, Illinois
Zona Evans cringed.
She wasn’t the only one.
The singing voice of Gertie Collins caused heads to turn, shoulders to rise, and eyes to squint. Three children who were too young to know that one did not cross Mrs. Collins if you wanted to enjoy peace in your lifetime did what their elders wished they could—covered their ears and made the faces they usually saved for their mama’s lima beans or brussels sprouts. Luckily for all the adults present at the Decatur Auditorium, one child led the others on an exodus out of the building, saving themselves—and all present—from the singer’s wrath.
If Mrs. Collins would have noticed. Which she couldn’t have because of her habit of closing her eyes when she sang. The blissful look upon her face indicated she thought her notes Divine—with a capital D.
As the director of the auditions for the Christmas musicale, Zona knew it was her responsibility to end the torture. But she also knew tact was needed to sustain the aforementioned peace.
She raised a hand, then realizing the singer couldn’t see it, raised her voice. “Would you open your eyes when you sing please?”
The torture paused when Mrs. Collins stopped singing. She looked at Zona. “What?”
“A singer connects with their audience through their voice and their eyes.”
“Oh. All right.”
She began again from the beginning, which made Zona kick herself for delaying the end of the song.
And Mrs. Collins did keep her eyes open for the first phrase. Then they closed yet again and she sang on, immersed in her own private fantasy world.
Before she began the second verse, Zona interrupted. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins.”
The older woman stopped in midaria and blinked. “I can sing more.”
I’m sure you can. “I’ve heard enough.” Zona knew she should have couched her words, but sometimes cryptic honesty had its place. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if you’re chosen for a part.”
Mrs. Collins strode to the edge of the stage and dug her fists into her ample hips. With her smallish head and largish middle, she looked very much like a two-handled sugar bowl. “Why wouldn’t I get a part? I was always assigned the lead back in Springfield.”
Zona wasn’t sure what to say. Perhaps the people in Springfield had a smaller talent pool than she had in Decatur? Had was the key word. With many of the men off to fight the Confederates, Zona’s choices had slimmed. But slimmed enough to let Mrs. Collins sing a solo in the musicale?
Zona read the eyes of the other auditionees awaiting her response. Pleading. “Don’t let her have a solo. Please.”
“You can be assured I always appreciate talent, Mrs. Collins.” Zona was tempted to say more but decided against it. “Thank you.” She turned to the next singer on the list. “Richard? Your turn.”
Mrs. Collins flounced off the stage, letting her hoop skirt assault Richard’s side as she whipped past.
Zona smiled at the boy, needing the sound of his lovely voice to erase the memory of Mrs. Collins’s song. “How are you today, Richard?”
He bit his lower lip. “I’m not sure.”
She was taken aback because Richard was a cheery boy, eager to use his voice in whatever capacity Zona chose. She already had him pegged to sing “O Holy Night” as a solo.
“Go ahead, son,” Zona said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He moved to the front edge of the stage, taking the place vacated by Mrs. Collins. But instead of her huff, he appeared humble. He squatted and spoke softly for her ears alone. “My voice is acting up, Miss Evans. I’m not sure you’ll want to use me this year.”
“Balderdash. You have a lovely voice.”
“Had.”
In that moment, Zona saw him with new eyes. He’d grown six inches in the last year, which probably meant …
She gave him another encouraging smile. “Let me be the judge.”
He stood, took a step back, cleared his throat, and began to sing “It Came upon a Midnight Clear.” By the second note, with its jump of an awkward sixth, Zona’s fears were confirmed. Richard’s voice cracked.
Zona heard giggles behind her to the right and flashed the three female offenders a look that silenced them. She turned back to Richard, hiding her own distress in order to ease his. “You’ve become a man. That’s something to be celebrated. Your voice will settle down, and when it does, you know you are most welcome on this stage. This year … perhaps you could help with the set design?”
He looked to the far corners of the auditorium, as if searching for something. Then he said, “Actually, I’m going to join the army with my brother. I want to go fight.”
Zona shuddered. “You are not eighteen yet, Richard. They won’t let you fight.”
“I’ve heard of some boys saying they was eighteen and getting in.”
The idea of true boys fighting in a war made her cringe.
“And if that don’t work, then I’ll be a drummer boy. I’m going with Timothy. We want to go together.”
Mrs. Collins spoke up. “I’m sure that won’t please your mother, young man.”
“No, ma’am, it won’t. But Pa says he’s proud of us.”
The sound level of the auditorium rose as people shared their opinions with each other. The though
t of this sweet boy putting himself in danger made Zona want to take a train to Washington and tell President Lincoln enough was enough.
As if he would listen.
“Sorry, Miss Evans,” Richard said. “Will you wish me well?”
Zona met him on the stage and pulled him into an embrace. “Of course I do. And I’ll pray for your safety.”
“Timothy’s, too, please.”
“Timothy’s, too.”
Unfortunately, Zona’s prayer list for local boys was far too long.
When the auditions were complete, Zona herded everyone out of the auditorium and closed the front doors. She blew out the kerosene sconces then made her way backstage and through another door leading to her private living quarters.
Mary Lou was setting the kitchen table for dinner. “Done so soon?”
Zona set down her notes and let the savory scent of stew warm her from the inside out. She lifted the lid and gave the stew a stir, only to have her hands slapped by her former governess and lifelong friend. “To answer your question, I’m home early because the pickings were slim.”
“Speaking of someone who’s not slim … Did Mrs. Collins audition?”
“Unfortunately.”
“If you want something to do, slice the bread.” Mary Lou sprinkled some pepper in the stew, gave the spoon a swirl, and put the lid back on. “I heard her talking at the mercantile. She expects at least one solo.”
“So she told me. I have too many women and not enough men. Even Richard is unavailable because he’s going off to fight with his brother.”
Mary Lou was taken aback. “Both of them?”
Zona nodded.
“His poor mother.” She shook the thought away and changed subjects. “Instead of three kings, you’ll have three queens?”
Oddly, Zona could imagine Mrs. Collins wearing a fake beard.
Mary Lou moved the pot to another burner and covered the hot one with a burner cover. “Jeb Gruning joined up.”
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