by Karen Cogan
He shook his head. “I wish everybody felt that way. We lost a man last week to a murdering coward who shot him in the back. Seems someone’s determined to clear us out of town even though the war’s supposed to be over.”
Caroline’s eyes filled with fear. “Someone shot him in the back? How horrid. Promise to be careful, Nate.”
His gaze moved from her sweet lips to her frown-puckered brow. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I mentioned it to see if you’d heard any rumors about who it might be.”
She shook her head. “There’s so much hatred. It could be almost anyone.” She remembered the hostility on Jed’s face and wondered if he knew who committed the murders. If he did, he wasn’t likely to tell her.
Nate nodded. “You’re right. When I look at the faces of some of these people, I know they blame us for everything they’ve suffered. They forget that we’ve seen death and suffering, too, and we didn’t fire the first shot. Yet, when we catch the man who shot our officer, he’ll face the firing squad, and these people will hate us all the more.”
Caroline didn’t feel like debating who started the war. She knew he was right about the town people. They might disagree with shooting a man in the back. Even so, many would be sympathetic to violent feelings against those who had invaded their town.
Nate opened the saddle bag and removed a small bag of flour, sugar and coffee. Caroline’s mouth watered at the thought of real coffee to replace the depleted supply of dried yams.
She took Nate’s arm. “Thank you. You have perfect timing. We were out of sugar and nearly out of flour. Tonight, we’ll celebrate the end of the war with coffee after dinner.”
She felt sure he’d paid a premium for these supplies.
Andrew hurried off to brush down the horse, visibly upset by the conversation about the slain soldiers. Caroline knew he’d been torn, as she had been, by loyalty to James and the Confederacy, and Nate whom they’d come to love. She brushed her concern for Andrew aside. Now that the war was over, everything would be all right. They could put their conflicts behind them and get on with life.
At supper, Andrew barely touched his food. The cake Gran had baked with the sugar and flour Nate brought did little to tempt his appetite. He badgered Nate with questions about the murders until Caroline said, “It’s morbid to dwell on such things. I’m sure Nate’s told you all he knows.”
Though Andrew bit back his questions, his obsession had dampened Caroline’s mood.
When they’d retired to the parlor for coffee, she said to Nate, “You could have been one of those men. Do you think whoever is doing this will kill again?”
“I’m sure they’d like to try. The Colonel ordered our patrols to go out in armed groups. I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble.”
Caroline’s brow puckered with concern. “I hope not. Still, I won’t be able to keep from worrying.” He ran a hand gently down her cheek.
“Nothing will keep me from coming safely back to you. I want to marry you, to take care of you always.”
She reached to clasp his warm hand against her cheek. “I want that, too. With the war over, we can build a new life together. I’ve always dreamed of marrying right here in the parlor.”
Nate swallowed hard. “We can marry in the parlor, but I hope you’ll consider moving west with me if we’re not needed on the plantation. Would you go with me?”
Caroline dropped her gaze. “I should think we would be needed here.”
“Not if James returns. He’ll want to run the plantation as he sees fit. We’ll be free to start a new life.”
Caroline turned away. “I’ve liked my life here. I’ve never craved a new life.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know, dear, but it might be best to go where no one cares that I’m a Yankee and you’re from the South.”
“Perhaps.” She didn’t want to continue this difficult conversation, so before he could comment, she began to prattle. “I’m coming to town on Monday morning. It’s been ever so long since I’m seen my best friend. We may be sisters someday. She and James were courting when he left. Perhaps I’ll see you while I’m in town.”
He frowned at the change of subject. Nonetheless, he thankfully let talk of moving drop.
Instead he said, “It would be best if we weren’t seen together. Tell me where you’ll be, and I’ll try to ride by while you’re there.”
Caroline obliged by giving him directions to Mary’s house. He was right not to give the town any more to talk about. She would hope for the chance to see him as he rode by and know he was still safe from the assassin’s bullet.
When she arrived at Mary’s home, just off Main Street, she stopped the buggy. She turned to Andrew who’d felt grown-up being allowed to drive. “After you hitch the team you can go to the store and buy a piece of candy. Meet me back here at ten o’clock.”
She fished a nickel she’d been saving for staples from her purse. Since Nate had brought a gift of sugar and flour, she felt she could allow a small splurge for candy. It had been a very long time since Andrew had been to town and longer since they had been able to afford such a treat.
Andrew accepted the gift with a grin, and remembering his manners, helped her from the buggy. While he hitched the team to the post outside the white picket fence, she walked up the flag stone path to Mary’s door. Through the cut glass, she could see Mary enter the hall. She grinned broadly when she saw Caroline, and then flung open the door and embraced Caroline tightly.
“Why, Caroline. It is good to see you. It’s been a long time. How have you been doing out there?”
“We’ve been fine, Mary. How’s everyone here?”
“Papa and I are fine, but Mama has been feeling unwell.”
Mary’s mother had been feeling “unwell” for as long as Caroline could remember. It seemed most likely she enjoyed the attention.
“I hope she feels better soon.” Caroline felt at home in the familiar parlor with the chestnut horsehair sofa and organ decorated with handsome scroll work.
As they sat down, a frown creased Mary’s pale brow. Her blue eyes grew serious. A blush touched her cheeks as she asked, “How have you been managing? I pray every day that James will come home. I didn’t get to see the last list.”
“He’s not on it. I’m sure he’ll be coming home soon.” Caroline put as much conviction in her voice as she could muster.
Mary played with the lace on her handkerchief, glancing up at Caroline several times, and then lowering her lids. She seemed to be deciding what to say.
Finally, she blurted out, “A terrible rumor has been started about you, dear, that you’ve taken up with a Yankee soldier. Melanie told me that Melinda said Jed had seen him with you. Surely there’s some mistake.”
Mary’s blue eyes fixed fast to Caroline’s face. Caroline swallowed over the lump that rose in her throat. How would she make her understand? She took a deep breath, and launched into the story, beginning with finding Nate wounded in the yard.
When she finished Mary’s eyes were round as saucers. “It was noble of you to nurse him, yet surely you don’t plan to keep seeing him. Not after all the Yankees have done to us.”
Caroline stared at Mary’s soft pale hand, comparing it to her own work hardened and sun browned fingers. Her ire rose. “If anyone knows what it is to suffer at the hands of the Yankees, it’s those of us on plantations. If we haven’t been burned out, we’re left to put in acres of cotton by the sweat of our brow. Yet, if it hadn’t been for Nate, I wouldn’t have got that cotton planted and we would have starved next winter.”
Mary sighed. “I’m sorry to make you angry. It’s all so confusing. I’m used to thinking of the Yankees as enemies. It’s hard to imagine one that is not.” She laid her hand across Caroline’s arm. “I only want to see you happy. You’ve always been so pretty, you could pick from any of our men who return from the war. Remember all the balls we’ve gone to together? You always had your dance card filled. Settling for a Yankee co
uld make you a social outcast.”
Caroline raised her chin. “What I won’t settle for is marrying a man I don’t love because of what people will say. If it embarrasses you, I’ll stay away.”
Mary gave her curls a hard shake. “Oh, no. I could never think badly of you no matter what people say.”
She clasped Caroline’s arm. “Just promise you’ll give this careful thought. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I promise.”
Talk turned to town news. Mary’s father owned the general store. The influx of soldiers had helped him prosper. Caroline kindly resisted pointing out that the people, such as her father, who might criticize her for befriending Nate were not too proud to take money from the Yankees.
As though on cue, Mary’s mother interrupted their visit at ten o’clock with the ringing of her bell. Mary sighed, “I’d better see what she needs. More than likely, she’s just bored.”
“I’ve got to go anyway. I told Andrew to meet me outside for the trip home. I’ll send word when I hear from James.”
Leaving Mary to tend to her mother, Caroline walked out to meet Andrew. She paused at the end of the walk and scanned the tree-lined street. He was nowhere to be seen. Five minutes passed, then ten. She sighed in annoyance. She’d given him a morning off work and a treat as well. He’d repaid the reward by leaving her standing beside the buggy.
She climbed onto the seat, deciding to drive toward the store and possibly spot him along the way. The streets bustled with people, though few acknowledged her. She longed to see Nate. Though she’d positioned herself to have a view of the street through Mary’s parlor window, she had not seen him ride by. She fought back her fear for his safety.
She reached a narrow alley beside the store. Three boys bolted across the street in front of the buggy, nearly unsettling the horses. She glanced down the alley to see what had sent them rushing carelessly into the street. One boy lay on the ground. Heart in her throat, Caroline recognized Andrew, wiping his sleeve across a bloodied nose. A Yankee soldier knelt over him.
Fragile Dreams
Fragile Dreams
CHAPTER NINE
She scrambled from the buggy as Nate helped Andrew to his feet. Their eyes locked over Andrew’s head. The boy’s torn shirt and bloody nose sparked her protective instinct. “What happened?”
Nate shook his head. “I saw some kids scuffling in the alley. One of them was Andrew. I’m afraid he was outnumbered.”
Caroline fished a handkerchief from her purse and pressed it to Andrew’s nose. “Why did you get into a fight with those boys?”
“They forced me into the alley when I came out of the store. They said they’d show me what happens to Yankee lovers. They held me and started punching, but I got an arm free and gave one of them a bloody lip.”
Tears filled his eyes, vying with his pride at defending himself. He thrust a fist to swipe angrily at the tears. “As soon as I’m old enough, I’m leaving this town. I’m going west, like you, Nate.”
The talk of going west annoyed Caroline. “Hush, now. Silly dreams won’t help you right now.”
She took his arm and steered him toward the buggy. Nate walked beside them. He took her elbow. “Those boys didn’t start that talk about you and Andrew. Someone’s feeding it to this town.”
She pressed her lips tightly. “I know. It’s Jed. I wouldn’t be surprised to find he put those boys up to fighting Andrew. Mary warned me of the ill feelings against us. But what can I do? I can’t deny we know you.”
Misery shone from Nate’s blue eyes. “Maybe I should stay away for awhile. I don’t want to put you and Andrew in danger.”
Caroline sat taut in the buggy. Anger churned her stomach. Would she have to give up the only man she’d ever loved to have peace with her neighbors? She stared at Nate, disappointed he would suggest a separation, even for her own good.
“That’s not a very courageous solution. Still, I suppose it would be best, considering the situation. I do thank you for stopping the fight.”
She drove away, head high, yet heart aching from the fate that had caused Nate to be a Yankee instead of a Confederate. Tears rolled down her cheeks by the time she reached the road that led out of town.
Andrew glanced over. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I didn’t mean to get in a fight.”
She forced a smile. “I’m not angry with you. It wasn’t your fault.”
They rode in silence, passing neighbors’ fields of cotton and alfalfa. Puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, promising an afternoon shower to nourish the growing crops. Graceful oaks arched over the road like protective parasols, giving respite from the warmth of the sun. On any other morning, Caroline would have enjoyed the drive.
Today, a cloud of confusion filled her mind, blocking out the pleasant calls of birds and sights of fine horses out to graze. She ignored the sights and sounds that had comforted her since childhood, feeling she had lost her place in this peaceful order of life.
When they reached home, she told Gran what had happened. After Caroline had sponged off Andrew’s wounds, she plodded to her room to change from her town dress to a faded blue work frock. She sank onto the bed, weary with strain. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she reached for the Bible on the bedside table.
Seeking comfort, she opened it to Psalm 34. Nate had carved the number of a verse on the back of the wooden dove. She ran her finger to verse four. “I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.”
Fear. Yes, she knew fear. The war had caused her to face fears she’d never imagined, losing the social acceptance she’d taken for granted, the safety of her family. She bit her lip, her heart crying to accept the comfort of God’s word. She sank to the floor beside the bed, her hands folded in prayer.
“Lord, things are such a mess. I don’t know how you can deliver us, but I pray that you will. I’m trusting that you’ll find a solution, even though I don’t see any. Like Job, even though you may slay me, I will trust in you.”
She rose from the floor and splashed her face with cool water from the basin. Then, feeling better, she went down to lunch.
Gran cast her a worried glance. “I suspect hard feelings are going to last a long time. Many people don’t understand the situation with you and Nate.”
“No they don’t understand.” She eyed Andrew with concern. Though his face bore no sign of the blood and grime that covered it earlier, he sported a swollen lip and a bruise under one eye.
He slumped in his chair, toying with the stew Gran set before them. Caroline touched his chin lightly, bringing his troubled gaze to meet her own. She sighed and said, “I’m sorry for what happened. It’s my fault for letting Jed believe there could be something between us. He’s dreadfully jealous. Still, I never dreamed he’d spread talk that he knew would hurt us.”
Andrew licked his sore lip and winced.
“It’s not your fault. Jed’s worse than you think. He’s...” He paused, as though debating whether to continue.
Caroline leaned forward disquieted by whatever was on his mind. Her attention shifted as Gran turned from the window to announce. “There’s a Confederate soldier coming up the drive, looking mighty weary. I believe we’ll be seeing plenty of them coming hungry and tired on their way home.”
Caroline stood and peered out the window. The man limped forward on his way toward the house. Though he dragged one leg, his pace quickened as he rounded the curve of magnolias that ended at the edge of the lawn.
Caroline frowned. He was familiar. A neighbor? She squinted, her heartbeat quickening. His dark beard, which covered his neck, needed a trim. Yet, his gaunt appearance and ragged clothes could not hide the bond of blood they shared.
She gave a soft cry as her hand flew to her throat. “James.”
Gran squinted her dim eyes, “Now, dear, don’t go getting your hopes set.”
Andrew’s wide eyes followed her as she spun and dashed from the room. The sound of his footsteps fell clo
se behind her as she reached the front door. She flung it open and paused breathlessly on the veranda. The soldier grinned at her from the bottom of the steps. Eyes the same dark shade as her own lit with greeting.
“It’s good to be home, Caroline.”
“James!” His name exploded from her throat. “It really is you.”
He laughed as Caroline and Andrew nearly crushed him in a hug. “I’ve been walking in the heat so long I’m surprised your nose would let you get within a mile of me.”
Caroline pulled back to look at the tired lines on his face. “You must be exhausted. Come in and have some food and a drink.”
She turned to Andrew. “Go pull up the jug of cold buttermilk from the well and bring it inside.”