Fragile Dreams

by Karen Cogan

  “Oh, no, I’ve not been offended.” She bit her lip, hoping her quick assurance didn’t make her sound less than a lady.

  A new rush of heat flooded her face as she sought to conceal her thoughts about his appearance. The tall lieutenant with deep blue eyes captivated her as no other man had ever done. She had not willed it to be so, yet, from the moment they brought him into the house, she had found herself imagining the thrill of romance. She’d tried to believe it was because she was lonely with so many young men off to war.

  She knew that wasn’t the truth, for she’d not felt lonely since Nate had arrived. Though some of their conversations had been painful, they had touched her very soul. Her beaux had steered away from subjects that might uncover a difference of opinion, preferring shallow and unfulfilling talk compared to Nate, who openly shared what was on his mind.

  How odd to know a Union soldier’s dreams and opinions far better than those of the boys with whom she’d grown up. But Nate didn’t feel bound by the rules of conversation of her world. She went about her tasks marveling at the freedom the abandonment of rules had given her with Nate.

  “Steer me to the porch today. I’ll sit outside for awhile,” Nate requested as he leaned against Caroline’s shoulder. He’d spent the past few days up as much as his strength would allow. Today with early spring sunshine pouring in his window, he longed to feel its warmth.

  Caroline settled a light blanket across his shoulders. If she were still upset by their conversation that caused her to flee in tears, she showed no sign of it. She displayed the unruffled manners of the perfect Southern lady. Nate settled back, musing about Caroline.

  A boy stepped out the front door. His profile looked a great deal like Caroline. “You must be Andrew,” Nate said.

  Andrew spun to face Nate. His eyes grew wide. Color drained from his face so quickly Nate wondered if he would pass out.

  “You don’t have any reason to be afraid. I’m hoping we can be friends.”

  Andrew began to stammer. “You shouldn’t be out here. Not where you could be seen.”

  “By whom? The Confederate troops have retreated.” Though Nate suspected his words would be painful for the boy to hear, he wanted to base their friendship on truth.

  “There’s others who wouldn’t like to see you here, sir. Please, just go back to your army and never tell anyone you were here.”

  “You don’t need to fear the army. And if you’re worried about neighbors seeing me, I’ll be sure to keep a sharp look-out so they won’t think you’re a Union sympathizer.”

  Andrew frowned. “You should worry about yourself more than us if anyone finds out you’re here.”

  Nate touched his shoulder where the homemade sling bound his arm to his chest. “I found out how your neighbors feel the hard way.”

  Andrew bit his lip. “Did you see who shot you?”

  “No. It happened too fast. I don’t remember much about it except for seeing my men go down.”

  The boy hesitated. “I have to plow now. We plant next month.”

  Nate studied Andrew. “You ever plowed before?”

  “Not until yesterday, sir. But everyone’s gone ‘cept Caroline and Gran, so there’s just me to do it.”

  “It’s a big job.” Nate thought of the hours he’d spent behind a plow. He flexed his shoulder, wondering how soon he’d be mended. Andrew was small for his age and the fields were extensive. Like Caroline, Andrew seemed determined to do whatever it took to keep the plantation. But determination wasn’t always enough.

  “I’m glad you didn’t die,” Andrew called over his shoulder as he headed for the field. Nate stared after him. From the way Andrew had avoided him, he’d expected a much colder reception. Perhaps there was hope for friendship after all.

  Fragile Dreams

  Fragile Dreams

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next few days fueled that hope. Andrew seemed drawn to Nate. Now that Nate was strong enough to come to the table for meals, he gave Andrew advice about plowing and planting. One day after a hard morning working the field, Andrew brought his books to the porch to do his studies. “What’s it like where you’re from?”

  Nate smiled, thinking of his home. “I was raised in the foothills of some big blue mountains. There’s pine trees as far as you can see, and the smell of those trees always fills the air. In the spring, God waters the wild roses and they burst into bloom. They smell pretty, too. Ma planted some beside the house. We lived on a little dirt farm, but when I was a kid, I thought it was the best place in the world.”

  Andrew puckered his brow. “I’ve never been anywhere except here and to town. I want to go places and see things. I want to cross rivers and see mountains and rivers and Indians. Caroline doesn’t understand why I want to do those things.”

  Nate grinned as he ruffled Andrew’s hair. “I understand it perfectly. I plan on going west when I leave the army. There’s good land for the taking there. A man can work hard and have more to live on than taters and possum.”

  Andrew sighed. “I wish I could go, but Caroline thinks it’s crazy to chance danger when we’ve always had what we needed right here.”

  Nate scanned the gravel drive, lined with magnolias ready to burst into bloom. In the last week, spring had arrived. The honeysuckle that grew along the sides of the house scented the air with its fragrance.

  “You have a nice place. I can see why Caroline loves it.”

  Andrew nodded. “Not much adventure here, though.”

  “There’s more hard work than adventure anywhere you go.” Through the open window, Nate heard Caroline singing as she moved about the parlor. He leaned back, straining to hear her soft soprano. Her voice faded as she left the room. Nate brought his thoughts back to Andrew.

  “We better get back to your lessons before your sister finds out you’re not studying and skins us.”

  ****

  At supper, Nate announced, “With a little help, I think I could walk out to that field Andrew’s been working on.”

  Caroline bit her lip. “Are you sure you’re well enough?”

  Her question made him think that it would soon be time for him to leave them. He had come to look forward to her companionship. His injury had excused the long evenings spent in his bedchamber—evenings that would not have been proper had he been well. He would miss those times.

  He shook the dismal thought and answered. “I’m well enough if I can borrow a shoulder to lean against.”

  A flush tinged Caroline’s cheeks and he wondered if she’d guessed that his pulse raced whenever his care brought their bodies close.

  “You can lean on me,” Andrew offered. His dark eyes shone. “I want to show you that most of the first field is plowed.”

  Caroline laughed as Andrew intercepted Nate’s plan to gain her shoulder, and Nate could do nothing but chuckle also.

  “I’ll come, too. I want to see the field,” she said. She turned to Andrew. “I know you’ve worked hard. I don’t know what we’d do without you, seeing as it’s almost time to plant.”

  When the dishes were cleared, Gran insisted on sending them ahead while she finished up. “Take your shawl, Caroline. The night air will be coming, and you don’t want to catch cold.”

  Caroline pulled her shawl off the hook in the kitchen and complied. The fire of the rosy sun put sparks in her dark eyes as she walked close to his elbow. It was the first long walk he’d attempted since his injury. Every hundred yards he had to stop to rest. Then, with two shoulders for support, he was able to continue doggedly on.

  After the third rest, he saw the result of Andrew’s effort. The earth turned under in shallow crooked rows. Nate had done better by Andrew’s age. But then, he’d grown up doing the work instead of watching it get done. Plowing took practice. A lot. He searched for something he could say in compliment.

  Glancing at Caroline, he saw she shared his dilemma. She’d caught her lip between her teeth, eyes narrowed as she surveyed the disorderly field. Nate�
�s heart lurched, knowing she saw yet another example of the battles they’d waged to survive. Disappointment and discouragement had become a part of their life.

  Andrew studied their faces. “It’s not so straight, is it?”

  Nate put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s a fine effort for a first try with the plow. Would you like me to come out here tomorrow while you work and give you some advice?”

  Andrew’s face brightened. “Yes, sir. That would be great. I’m going back to tell Gran.”

  Andrew ran ahead, leaving Nate alone with Caroline. He took her hand, drawing her to face him. The rosy glow of the setting sun cast a pink shadow on her pale face. “I owe you a debt for saving my life. I can never repay that, but I can help you get this crop in the ground.”

  He silenced her protest with a finger to her lips. Their softness thrilled him, causing him to trail his finger down the ruby warmth. His gaze lingered on her face, as the desire to kiss her welled.

  With effort, he corralled his wayward thoughts. “I have to leave in a few days to find my regiment. They’ll be wondering what’s become of me and my men. As soon as I get some leave, I’ll come back to help you.”

  She lowered her gaze. Was it disappointment he saw on her face?

  His heartbeat quickened. Caroline pulled her shawl close about her, raising her dark eyes to search his face.

  “You’re not healed yet. And you don’t even know where to find your regiment. You might walk for days.”

  “They’ll leave detachments along the way. I’ll meet up with one before I go far.”

  “You needn’t push yourself. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, rending his heart and making him want to promise never to leave her side. Yet he had a job to finish, a duty to resume. He prayed the war would be over soon and he could return to make sure all was well with Caroline and her beloved plantation.

  Her lip trembled. “Once you go, I won’t know what becomes of you. I’ll spend my life wondering if you survived.”

  Nate ran a finger along her smooth cheek and felt her shiver. “I’ll come back as soon as I’m able. Don’t you think I’d always wonder what became of you, my ministering angel?”

  A tear escaped, colliding with his finger. He longed to comfort her. His impulse dictated to his heart as he leaned down and gently tasted her lips.

  Caroline closed her eyes and melted against his broad chest. The part of her heart that protested the traitorous act was drowned out by her feelings for Nate. His warmth and strength drew her to him. She stood mesmerized by his kiss until she heard Andrew calling to her from afar.

  “Caroline, where are you? Aren’t you coming back?”

  She drew away from Nate, her face flushed, thoughts confused. She could not be in love with this man. It was impossible. Surely God would not let her suffer the embarrassment of falling in love with an enemy soldier. What would her older brother think if he should return from war and hear that she had feelings for this man? Disloyalty gripped her.

  She held her skirts above the damp grass as she helped him toward the house. She saw Gran standing on the porch. Gran knew her well. The woman would surely read her guilt. Why had she let this happen? Why hadn’t she kept a tighter rein on her heart?

  She avoided Gran’s sharp eyes as she and Nate walked up to the porch. She willed her ragged breathing to relax, her face to compose itself into a mask of innocence. Only then might she avoid the inquisition she knew Gran capable of waging.

  After helping Nate to the kitchen, she went back and hung her shawl in the entryway. She heard Andrew chattering to Nate, and her face softened as she thought of her little brother. Andrew had missed James dreadfully. After the war started, the hired men who’d worked the fields had left to join in the war effort, and both of the girls who’d worked in the house left to become nurses. Then, Pa got sick, and there had been so much work to do she’d had little time for a lonely little boy. Andrew had been forced to take on chores they’d never thought he’d have to tackle. Gran always said what didn’t kill a person made them stronger.

  Perhaps when this nightmare ended they would have no need to be stronger. Yet, as she thought of the devastation the South was suffering, she shuddered. She and her neighbors would need every ounce of determination they could muster just to hold on to their land.

  She busied herself checking the sourdough starter for tomorrow’s biscuits. She dared not meet Nate’s eyes for fear he would read her feelings for him, feelings that seemed beyond her will to control.

  “Mr. Sikes is going to watch me whittle,” Andrew informed her. “He used to whittle a lot before he joined the war.”

  Caroline forced a smile. “That’s a pleasant way to pass the time.” Her heartbeat quickened as she felt Nate watching her.

  She pictured him back on his farm, strong hands gripping the plow handles.

  He said, “We didn’t have a lot of extra time running a dirt farm. Still, my brothers and I used to sit on the porch and whittle in the evening when the chores were done. Pa read from the Bible while Ma and the girls tended to the mending.”

  “My pa used to read from the Bible, too,” she said softly without looking up.

  “Would you mind if I read aloud tonight while you worked on your sewing?”

  Caroline glanced up quickly into eyes that searched so deeply that she felt her very soul exposed. Could she hear aloud those words of Scripture that reminded her so much of Pa? What had they done for her father? His faith hadn’t saved her Ma, stopped the war, or kept him with them when they needed him so much. As she struggled with her answer, Nate turned to Gran.

  “What do you think?”

  She nodded vigorously. “I think that’s a good idea, Mr. Sikes. There’s nothing like words from the Good Book to bring comfort during hard times.”

  “Then I’ll get my Bible. We can sit here in the warm kitchen.”

  When they were settled around the table, Nate glanced around at the faces. Meeting Caroline’s eyes, he smiled as though to assure her. Perhaps he sensed how much she dreaded the thought of having to sit and listen to words that seemed not to live out their promise.

  “Should we have a time of prayer?” Nate asked.

  They bowed their heads while he asked, “Heavenly Father, please bless our understanding of Your words and guide me in any verses You want me to share. Thank you for providing for our salvation and our daily bread. Amen.”

  He opened his worn Bible and began to read, “In the land of Uz there lived a man whose name was Job.”

  By the time he reached the second chapter, Caroline poked her needle angrily in and out of the shirt she was mending. She bit back her rage at a God who would allow such trials for a godly man. Bitterly she thought that if Nate had wanted to convince her of God’s love, he’d certainly picked the wrong book.

  Nate paused to give Andrew advice about the eagle he was carving. He ran a finger under the eagle’s neck. “Shave a little more off under the head, right here.”

  Andrew nodded and went back to work.

  Caroline seized the break to ask between gritted teeth, “Would anybody like a cup of coffee?”

  Gran nodded, so Caroline scooted her chair back with more force than was necessary, and hurried into the kitchen. She set the ground yams to boil, glad for the opportunity to give legs to her annoyance.

  Nate continued to read. The richness of his voice would have been soothing if her mind had not been reeling with the unfairness of God. Surely Job had been angry with God, just as she was angry now.

  Her hands trembled as she drained the coffee and set the cups on the table.

  She picked up her mending, biting her lip as Nate read, “What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me.”

  Life held no protection. All her dreads and fears could come upon her. James could fail to return. They could still lose their home. She longed to plug her ears and keep out the words.

  N
ate closed the Bible. “Three chapters is enough for one night.”

  It was more than enough as far as Caroline was concerned.

  “Job had plenty of troubles, but never gave up on the Lord,” Gran observed.

  Nate nodded. He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “And the Lord never gave up on him.”

  “Never let up on him, you mean,” Caroline snapped.

  Nate’s gaze lingered on her face. “You remind me of Job. You don’t understand the reason for your trials and neither did he. Just remember you don’t know the end of the story.”

  “I can’t think what would make up for all he went through.”

  “Just wait,” Nate encouraged. He brushed a stray hair off her cheek, then picked up his Bible and headed for bed.