by Karen Cogan
She tromped over to close the gate. The lecture she had planned to give Andrew bolted from her head when she saw him lying motionless on the grass. She flew to him with a startled cry and knelt beside him.
“Andrew!” She shouted his name as panic flooded her mind. He made no response. She turned him onto his back and gasped at the trickle of blood that trailed down the side of his pale face. Her mind spun dizzily, unable to think what could have happened.
She parted his hair to the gash near his crown, then coaxed her trembling fingers to tear a strip of petticoat to press against the cut. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, assuring her he was still alive.
Still, he was bleeding and unconscious. He needed a doctor. Yet, James had gone to town. Who would help her? She could not even carry her brother back to the house. She would have to go for Gran. Perhaps the two of them could carry him. Reluctantly, she clutched her skirts and ran for the house.
The sight of Nate’s horse filled her with such relief her knees nearly buckled. She burst in the back door.
“Nate’s waiting in the parlor,” Gran began, her words trailing as Caroline flew through the dining room and into the parlor.
Nate stood at the sight of Caroline. Her appearance reminded him of a frightened bird.
“Please,” she gasped, “Andrew’s hurt. Help me get him to the house.”
She rushed to the door as Nate followed. They raced to the field.
Nate’s heart sank to see Andrew lying deathly still. He scooped the child into his arms, hoping for a moan to show a sign of consciousness, yet got none.
They rushed to the house, and Nate laid Andrew gently in his bed. The bandage Caroline had put on his head was soaked with blood. Caroline’s lip trembled as she watched Gran sponge his face with cool water.
“He’s not waking up,” Caroline whispered. Nate hugged her briefly.
“He’s going to be all right,” Nate said. He tried to put conviction into his words.
He hesitated a moment, and then said, “I’ll be back with the doctor.”
Andrew’s pale face worried him more than he would like to admit.
Caroline blinked back tears.
“James is in town. See if you can find him, please.”
Nate mounted quickly and rode his horse hard into town, leaving the poor animal winded and spent when they arrived at the doctor’s office. He burst into the waiting room, relieved to find that the doctor had just finished with a patient. Doc was an old man, sick of the tragic wounds he’d seen from the war. He frowned at the sight of the blue coated soldier.
“Andrew Ashcroft is unconscious with a head injury. He needs to see you at once.”
The doctor blinked behind his round glasses. “The Ashcroft boy, you say?”
“Yes.”
Doc disappeared into the back room and returned with his bag. “I’ll get my buggy.”
Nate nodded. “I’m going to find James.”
He found him at the dry goods store. He barged forward, too intent on his mission to take notice of the stares cast his way.
“You’ve got to get home. Andrew’s had an accident.”
James let the harness he was inspecting slide from his hands. “What sort of accident?”
“A head injury. He’s unconscious. I’ve already sent the doctor.”
James fetched his horse. They caught up with the doctor’s buggy and rode with him to the house.
The doctor examined Andrew and stitched the gash in his head. Then, leaving Gran to watch over him, he shooed the others down to the parlor.
“I have to be frank. The boy’s had a nasty blow to the head. Looks like somebody hit him hard. He may not regain consciousness. If he does, he might not be right in the head.”
“Hit him?” James stammered. “I thought it was an accident.”
The doctor frowned. “Not likely from the placement of the wound.”
Caroline stared at the doctor.
“Who would want to hurt Andrew?”
“Someone who doesn’t want him to testify.” Nate’s suggestion cut into her like a knife.
She turned to him, her eyes wide. “But Jed’s in jail.”
“He has friends.”
Caroline remembered the two men who had ridden with him the night he’d come to kidnap her. “You’re right. He has friends.”
The bitterness in her voice made Nate wince. He searched her face. Would she blame him for asking Andrew to testify?
The doctor closed his bag. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him. In the meantime, all we can do is wait.”
Caroline walked the doctor to the door. “Thank you. If you’ll please wait for your fee, we’ll pay you whatever it takes to care for Andrew after we sell the cotton.”
He waved a gnarled hand her direction. “I can wait. You direct your effort to praying for that little boy.”
She returned to find Gran sitting by the bed holding Andrew’s hand. She shook her head in answer to Caroline’s hope that he’d shown any sign of regaining consciousness.
Gran’s lined face was solemn as she said, “I’m going to go start dinner. It won’t do Andrew any good for us all to be losing our strength.”
Caroline took her place beside the bed. She stroked Andrew’s hand.
“Can you hear me, Andrew? We’re all worried about you. We want you to wake up.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. Except for the movement of his chest, he could very well have been a wax figure on display. A young woman appeared in the doorway, her soft dark eyes misting as she took in the scene.
“I came as soon as I heard. Gran let me in.”
James took her hands.” Mary. I’m so glad you came. Doc says it may be awhile until we know if he’ll be all right.” The aroma of cooking rose from the kitchen, making Nate’s stomach churn.
When Gran came up to shoo them down, she turned their protests aside. “It’s only soup. You go down and eat just a little.”
Mary took James’s arm on the way downstairs. Nate glanced at Caroline, wondering how she felt about him. She bit her lip, studying him with her dark eyes. When she took his arm, he felt as if a huge weight had fallen from his chest.
No one managed more than a few mouthfuls of soup before ascending to find Andrew unchanged. When late afternoon shadows crept across the wall, Nate knew he had to report back to town. He crouched beside Caroline.
“Times like this can be a sore trial to our faith. I want you to know I’ll be praying for Andrew tonight.”
She blinked back tears. “Though he may slay me, I will hope in Him.”
Nate brushed a finger gently across her face. “Job 13:15.”
She nodded. “I wish it was me instead of Andrew lying here. But I know God didn’t send evil on this little boy and whatever happens, I’ll trust His will.”
“Such was the trust of Job.” He patted her hand. “I should be going.”
“I should be going too,” Mary said
Nate turned to James. “I’m going back to town. I’d be glad to see she gets safely home.”
They faced each other. Any animosity left between them fell away as they stood eye to eye.
James replied, “I’d be grateful if you did.”
Fragile Dreams
Fragile Dreams
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The clock ticked unceasingly onward with no change in Andrew’s condition. At last Caroline urged Gran and James to go to bed. “You need your rest,” she told Gran.
Turning to James, she said, “You and the men you hired will have to start picking cotton early tomorrow. Go to bed. I’ll call you if there’s any change.”
They gave in reluctantly.
When she sat alone in Andrew’s bedroom, she listened to the creaking of the house that had kept her company on other restless nights. She longed for Andrew to break the silence and speak to her. She longed for any sign of consciousness. Would she ever hear his voice again?
She dozed, only to jerk awake when her
head fell forward. At last, she stretched across the foot of the bed, sure she would feel any movement if Andrew should stir.
As dawn thrust the first fingers of light into the room, Caroline started awake, suddenly aware that James stood beside her. He studied Andrew so intently she feared Andrew had stopped breathing. She forced herself to sit up and face the fear that clutched her heart. Andrew’s eyes flickered, then closed. She slid off the bed and knelt beside him.
“Andrew, can you hear me?” He blinked and tried to focus on Caroline, then squeezed his eyes closed. Would he be able to speak? The doctor had said there might be damage.
She felt despair return as the seconds ticked by.
Andrew opened one eye. “My head hurts.”
Caroline released the breath she’d been holding. Looking at James, she saw tears fill his eyes.
He knelt beside Andrew. “I bet it does.”
Caroline felt her own tears roll down her cheeks and realized she was crying. “We’ve been so worried. You’ve been unconscious since yesterday morning. Doc thinks someone hit you on the head. Do you remember anything?
Andrew frowned. “No. I turned to close the gate, but I don’t think I did. I don’t remember what happened. I bet you thought I forgot to close it.”
“I did at first. I’m sorry.” Caroline rubbed his hand.
“Why did they hit me?”
James knelt close. “Nate thinks someone doesn’t want you to testify.”
Andrew winced as he struggled to sit up. “Did I miss the trial?”
“No.” Caroline pressed him gently back on his pillow. “Don’t worry about the trial. You’ve got to rest quietly. You have quite a bad cut on your head.”
Andrew felt the bandage. “That’s why I have such a headache. But they won’t make me miss the trial. When is it?”
James rose. “Three days from now, but they can postpone it.”
Andrew frowned. “No. I’ll testify. Nobody’s going to stop me.”
Caroline and James exchanged uneasy looks. Caroline shifted onto the bed to sit beside Andrew.
“We’re not trying to upset you, dear, but after what’s happened...it may not be safe.”
Andrew’s chin set with determination. “I will testify. I have to. I owe it to the men who died.”
Caroline sighed. “All right, Andrew. We’ll see how you feel in three days.”
The sound of a wagon pulling into the yard announced the arrival of the hired pickers. Caroline knew, as slow as she would be at helping, James would miss the extra hand. Still, she could not leave Andrew. They would have to manage without her.
While James hurried down, she helped Andrew sip a glass of water.
“I’ll see if Gran will fix you some grits. You’ll feel better when you’ve had something to eat. You stay put until I get back.”
At the bottom of the stairs, she came face to face with Nate. He had replaced the blue uniform with dark breeches and a creamy cotton shirt which accentuated his broad shoulders.
In answer to the question in her eye, he said, “I’ve been discharged. I came to see how Andrew was doing. James tells me he’s regained consciousness.”
Caroline nodded. “Except for the wound on his head, he seems fine.”
Nate smiled broadly. “It seems neither of you have been slayed. For that I’m thankful.”
He moved closer.
Caroline’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings. “So am I.”
If she had thought Nate handsome in his uniform, he was even more handsome in his simple homespun. She shivered as he drew her close, looking down into her eyes. She cast about for something to say as he bent toward her.
Her quest for words was lost as she closed her eyes and felt his gentle kiss.
They clung together until they heard the sound of James’s chair scraping across the dining room floor. Then, Nate turned and reluctantly released her.
“I realized you’d be short-handed for cotton pickers. I can stay around and help. After all, I did promise to help you keep your plantation.”
Caroline swallowed hard. The love in his eyes reminded her of the decision she must make. She could not forget the promise she made to James, nor could she bear to give up the only man she would ever love. She pushed the painful decision aside as James collected his hat.
“It’s more than decent of you to help us out,” James said as Nate followed him out the door.
“I’ve got no place to go until after the trial.”
****
The words echoed in Caroline’s mind for three days as the men picked cotton and she cared for Andrew. After the trial... What would she do after the trial?
True to his determination, Andrew pushed himself toward health. Caroline found it impossible to keep him in bed after the first day, and so contented herself to letting him walk about the house and sit in the sunshine on the porch.
The day before the trial, the men hauled the wagons of cotton to the gin. James returned from his trip with the news that the price of cotton had been good. She saw her own relief reflected in his eyes. Their needs could be met now that the cotton was sold and the money in the bank. With that off her mind, she turned her thoughts to the trial.
They drove to town early the next morning. Caroline wadded and unwadded the lace handkerchief she held in her hand. James and Andrew sat stiffly beside her in the buggy. They were both scrubbed and in their best black suits.
The town bustled with activity by the time they arrived. A small crowd waited outside the jail. Since onlookers were barred from the proceedings, they focused their attention on the arrival of the Ashcrofts.
Mary detached herself from the crowd and took James’s arm as they made their way through the murmur of voices. Hattie Price, the blue-blooded banker’s wife, addressed Caroline. “You should be ashamed of yourself, that poor little boy getting hurt because you threw yourself at a Yankee. I never would have thought such a thing possible from an Ashcroft.”
Mary clutched Caroline’s arm with her free hand. “Don’t you pay any mind to her. For every person who thinks like that, there are two who don’t.”
A soldier held open the heavy oak door. Caroline bit her lip as she followed Andrew’s stoic steps into the lion’s den. As the door closed behind them, shutting out the sounds of the crowd, she realized how badly sympathies for either her or Jed had split the town.
Hattie’s words echoed in her mind, evoking a hard realization. Hattie, and others like her, thought Jed acted out of jealousy for her love. Would it matter if they learned he killed two soldiers in cold blood before she and Nate even met?
She lifted her chin and squared her slender shoulders. Those who wanted to condemn her would not be swayed by the truth. She would never be more than a traitor, a disgrace to her family.
Yet, God knew the truth. She thought back to the Psalms she’d been reading since she finished the book of Job. David had faced slanderous foes who wished to think the worst of him. In Psalm Three, he had reacted with trust. “But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter of my head.” God would be her shield from the sting of accusing tongues.
A row of chairs faced a panel of officers. One chair had been pulled closer, serving as a witness stand. Nate sat at the end of the row. He nodded as they approached, his eyes lingering on Caroline. She gave him a brief glance before settling beside Mary at the end of the row. The officers had likely heard the rumors and Caroline had no desire to fuel suspicion of impropriety.
A soldier led Jed from his cell to sit under guard at the side of the room. Caroline swallowed hard as his eyes swept the room, and then narrowed to fasten her with a dark stare.
The colonel called the trial to order. She could see Andrew’s knees shaking as he responded to the call to take the witness chair.
“Tell us just what you saw the day Mr. Sikes was ambushed,” the colonel urged gently.
Andrew relayed the event he had witnessed, his voice growing in conviction as he spoke. Car
oline watched him, marveling at how much he had changed in the last few months. He’d grown taller, losing his childish appearance. Even his hair had gone from towhead to ash brown.
When he finished testifying, the colonel asked, “Can you point to the man you called Jed Mason?”