Fight for Glory (My Wounded Soldier #1)

by Diane Munier

  I glanced as I put my feet in the socks and then my boots. I saw his shoulders come down a notch. “Tom…we must protect the womenfolk.”

  “Yes, Pa, I always will,” I said, pushing a couple of things from the war out of my mind once again. How sometimes the women fought, how rough we got more than once. They were losing everything, and we were the ones they could strike at. I slapped that one so she’d come to her senses that day she clawed my face. I tried to hold her, to keep her away while they took things out of her house. I’ll never forget the sadness of that day.

  “Mrs. Varn is a daughter to us, under our roof to be held safe, so she can heal.”

  “Yes, Pa. I was doing sentry. That’s all. And I’ll likely do it again, just so you know. If you can’t abide it, I understand, and mayhap I need to take her home, but she cannot be alone sometimes.”

  He stared hard at me, and I saw him scrambling to protect everybody, like he was Moses, I guess. I was opposing him, no matter how kindly my tone, so he wasn’t fooled.

  “Then she must come for Ma and me.”

  “No sir. She will not do that. She already fears she burdens you enough. She knows the workload. She will not do that.”

  “She must think of her reputation. We have strangers on the place for two weeks. And your brothers would not understand.”

  “They understand plenty, Pa, and they are not my first concern.”

  “If you feel this strongly Son, you know what would remedy all of this.”

  I stood now, my feet well shod. “I’m going west,” I said, like a troubadour for my own cause.

  “Sometimes duty steps in the way of our plans.”

  “You would tell me this, Pa? You would speak to me as if I’ve not been a man of duty?”

  We stood and looked harshly at each other. It was a stand-off. I saw the strength in him, but he was a man of self-possession. And he feared losing me. Maybe it had always been him who wanted me home. He was the one came for me that day in Springfield. I hadn’t returned to the home place like most of the sons around here. Pa was the one waiting under that oak in front of the factory. My pa, looking smaller than I remembered. My pa, who never left the county except to fetch me home, and him riding the train. What I felt walking around those palettes making my way to him. I wanted to run toward him realizing I needed his arms. But away, too. He said it was Ma. Losing Garrett, then Granma right after. Pa feared he’d lose Ma too she was that struck with grief.

  They didn’t blame me for not bringing Garrett home, he wanted me to know. That was hard to take. Better they washed their hands of me. Better they didn’t want to see me. But that’s not how it was. They wanted me, they thought they did, but it was some small piece of Garrett they were looking for. I’d always been harder to take. Hard on them. Always pulling the tether, always jumping the fence-row to see what lie yonder, chasing after Jimmy, William after me. I wore them out.

  So all that was there, and I’d spoken to him in a way made me feel like shit. “Pa,” I said, “I hear what you’re saying. I know it looks like it’s easy to fix…this thing with Mrs. Varn and the children…but Pa…when is it my time to just…to just….”

  “I know it seems that way, Tom. I know you been the best son a man could ask for.”

  “You really feel that way Pa?”

  “You know I do. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Don’t be proud of me, Pa. I’m not a good man, not through like you.”

  “I ain’t been called to the same plight, Tom. I ain’t been tested like you. I don’t know my measure. But you, you’re a man who has my deepest admiration.”

  “Pa…I’m no…I ain’t bellyachin’. You gave a son, for glory sake, and kept the farm goin’…there’s no measuring one thing against….”

  “That’s why I say to you…be careful not to compromise this woman, this daughter. And take a good look at what’s right here, lad. Sometimes the manna…is under your feet.”

  We’d been talking over each other, talking fast. I did not know we had it in us to do this. We stared at each other, but the words were out now. He nodded to me and left.

  Thank the Lord. His words had taken the plow to me. But it was morning and I could hear the wagon load of them coming in the yard, and I knew they’d be ready to get to the fields.

  Manna. My daily bread. I would find it where ever the trail took me. And until that time I would not turn down Addie Varn. Not when she was hurting and afraid. When I could hand her off to a man of worth, then I could turn away.

  The man of worth was not to be found in the crew of threshers that filled Ma’s table that morning. There were a dozen of them, and they’d done woke the baby cause they wouldn’t think of such. But that wasn’t it. Several were already married, and the two that weren’t married were not men of property or conviction.

  When she entered the kitchen though, dressed in her gray dress, mourning proper and not wishing to call attention to herself, the silence fell. For they knew. Everyone knew. So it was until she took the rocker, and smiled at each. So it was they started the talk again slow, how the statue had been ordered for the courthouse lawn in town. How Sheriff Jimmy said it would be the first sign of cooperation and reconciliation among the blue and gray, how veterans from each side had contributed for the bronze horse and rider that said, ‘The Sons of Glory, Veterans Under One Flag.’

  But I paid them no such. I tried to keep my eyes off her, but her presence drew me, and though she was not close enough to touch me with her sweet baby-holding, gun-firing hands, I felt her, nonetheless. I felt this woman.

  Tom Tanner

  Chapter Ten

  I did not drink at all the night after I’d lain on Addie’s floor. A thought had struck me in the field as if I was hearing it for the first time. She had said that if I left to head west, I would take a goodly part of her heart with me. I tried to get my mind around carrying a piece of such a beautiful heart. Matters of the heart were matters of love. I was not as ill prepared to understand such as one might think. I felt love for her. It made me want to stay as I was not an unfeeling beast. And it made me want to run. What a hornet’s nest this was.

  Two mornings later I caught Gaylin red-handed, all but accosting the missus on the porch. She’d gone out there to stroke Ma’s orange cat. It got hot as devil-fire in that kitchen with all the cooking going on. We’d set up tables under the oaks for dinner that afternoon. Well there she was getting a couple of minutes to breathe, and there he was walking on his hands in the yard and making her laugh. His shirt rode up, and he didn’t have his long johns on, I don’t know why, but there was his stomach as bare and hairy as hogback before it’s scraped.

  I swear the scene washed red, so I made myself breathe slow cause I could do ugly things when in this humor. I had lingered at the table to speak to Pa, so I closed the door soft now, neither of them aware of me. She was laughing at him, clapping her hands. The threshing machine was down again and they were in the fields tinkering with it, but there was plenty of work to do in the meantime. Seth was already cleaning stalls and why this one thought it was the Sabbath and time for him to put on a show was anyone’s guess.

  Now he was showing her how he could hold himself up by his two hands, his body held straight as a board. I had to shake my head on that one for if this is all he knew about posing for women, I reckoned I had not done my duty toward him as an older brother.

  “Stalls awaitin’,” I said, stepping out.

  “Best get to it then, Tom,” he said, back on his feet, his chin looking like mine felt about now.

  We stared at each other for a beat. His lips looked sewn up tight. I knew mine were.

  He looked away and nodded to Missus, then stalked off to the barn. He’d have the energy for mucking now, I knew, he was that mad and it had been building.

  “Tom,” Missus said low, like she had the whole thing figured out.

  “What?” I said liking that braid that had been swinging down her back while she helped serve at brea
kfast. The men had noticed too. The two without wives blushed furious when she came round with the grits. She gave me twice as much as them, and I was ready to burst now from eating more than I liked so early, but they were looking on, and I wasn’t going to shame her by leaving any.

  “He’s just so full of life, that one.”

  “We’re all full of life, Missus, until we’re dead.” I said, not knowing what in tarnal I was talking about. “You don’t want to encourage, ‘that one.’”

  “Encourage him? To do what?” she surprised me by asking. This was the first time she had challenged me, even a little, aside from the truth that her very existence challenged me everyday to keep to my plans. But now, was she sticking up for this brother?

  “He has work,” I said, making no sense even to my ears.

  “He’s a good hard worker,” she defended him. “Gaylin and Seth are keeping my farm going. They carry a double load because of me and never complain. I am so indebted to you and your family’s kindnesses.” Here she came, that little face, so pretty, skin like cream, that dark hair, and the braid lying on her breast. Lord. Her little hand on my arm. Warmth and sweetness.

  I swallowed cause things welled up around her, don’t ask me why. “Missus,” I said, “no debt. None at all. We…Ma and Allie, all of us…like having you…and the children.” Sweat was starting to roll, even in this shade and nice breeze.

  “I feel like a part of your family, Tom. I love you all like my own.”

  Was that the love, then? A family love? That had to be so. She loved me in the bundle, in the pile. It would be okay then. So why did I feel such a dousing of melancholy at the thought that I was no more to her than Gaylin was to me?

  I nodded, like a brute. I had not one generous word in my head. I went in the barn then the way a murderer might seek a church. That barn door was a mouth of sanctuary. So perplexed was I that I did not see him until he was upon me. Or his fist was. He hit me hard in the shoulder. I welcomed it.

  We tusseled around, me not wanting to hurt Gaylin knowing I’d answer to Ma, who grieved already for Garrett, and him taking stock of how strong I was or wasn’t. I knew he would not hold back. His lack of confidence would make him strike hard. The shoulder told me that.

  As we fought we moved the length of the barn’s first leg. It was shaped like the letter L. It was one of the biggest barns in Bond so we had plenty of space to chase each other, drag each other, and throw each other down. We were on the ground now, wrestling. He had me in a hold, and I let him have control so he’d grow cockier than ever. And he did. I hoped to spare his face, Ma’s sake again, but I could make no promises as he tightened his arms around my ribs. He had no idea I was resting. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, though I did not know thirty summers yet, more like twenty-six. But I knew to save myself for when the anger reached its summit. His, not mine.

  I soon renewed, and broke his hold, although my middle ached some. Seth had drawn near, the only witness so far, and he tried to speak reason, but neither of us listened. This pup kept his eyes on me, and he was breathing like a foaling sow. So I waited, and he charged me. I stepped aside as I’d no wish to take the brunt. He swept me with his arm and pulled me round, even as he crashed into a feed barrel and spilled its yellow grain. The animals not set to pasture were having some say.

  So now my fists were up. Come on, boy, I was thinking. I told myself to ease it down, but I was barely listening and that wasn’t good.

  He righted himself and charged again, swinging his big fists like a spring pump. I laughed a little as I dodged him cause the anger in him took over. He was sloppy and wild. Had I taught him nothing? I guessed I’d been gone so long and neglected my duties with him and Seth. He was incensed when I reached between his flailing fists and slapped his face so hard his chin hit his shoulder. He stopped and shook his head twice. I was sorry Ma. But bets were off now. I would take him down just enough.

  I kicked his feet out from under him, and sat on that belly he’d been so eager to show. I slapped him again for sassing me too many times. Then once more for good. He wanted to hit back, but his arms were pinned under my knees and legs, and he was bucking like a bang-tailed horse, so I got off before he threw me to the rafters.

  He was swinging blind now, just wanting to do some damage. And I tripped him. He went down hard, but he rolled quick and got up. Seth was saying that’s enough now, but it made no dent against us. So now he came, and he got in a punch or two, but I got in more, and there was blood from his nose and lip, and his eyes grew to a slit cause I had that right hook. I’d just got his arm behind him and held him against the wall when I heard Addie’s voice behind me talking so fast I’d have to listen to decipher the words. I left off then, stepped away from Gaylin and he turned toward me, wanting another go-round, but seeing Missus, the shame held him, and he shook his arm, and she went to him.

  I know my jaw dropped, went to the one who bushwhacked me. Her looking at me the way she must have looked at that yank she shot. Eyes scolding, as her little mouth comforted him, all kinds of baby-coddling words as she walked him past me, me the devil, and then she called Johnny too, like he wasn’t to be left in my company.

  Seth was smiling a sad smile at me and shaking his head. He had a broom and went for the mess we’d made. Well I knew what to do about this. I walked the length to my room. I dropped to my knees and felt for the bottle there. It must have rolled to the wall, because I had to reach, and I felt every hit then, every kick, every slam. Damn that barrel-headed kid.

  “Tom?” It was Johnny. Could a man find no peace? There were too many folks round here. A man had no privacy. I hailed the day I could leave this place in my dust. And some hope came to me then. I had what I needed to kick this door closed. Let her go to the likes of him and whoever came after. It had nothing to do with me. I was free.

  But I was not so free. That night after we returned from the field, I was moving slow as I went in search of some supper. I dreaded entering the house as I had worked through dinner and the judgment I knew awaited from the lynch mob that had once been my family and supporters.

  I had dared to lift a hand to the pride and joy, it seemed. Pa had already let me know his great disappointment in just a few words and looks as was his wont. This made twice I had resorted to violence, both times in front of Johnny, it seemed, who liked to chase barn cats and hide in corners apparently.

  The menfolk had little to say about my bruises, and Gaylin’s limping. But they noticed and their tongues would wag at the next farm. That farm would not be Addie’s as I planned to get her crops in myself the old fashioned way, with knife and scythe. Her husband had been no farmer, plain and true, and the crops were not large, but every bit helped come winter, so I would see to this last thing before I lit out.

  I intended to first sit on the porch to pick chaff from my cuffs and shirt, and to run my hands through my shaggy hair, for I had enough marks against me with Ma, I was sure, and I needed to take care of messing her house.

  Before I could reach such, Johnny met me in the yard, eyes wide and words rolling over one another. Addie had broken a glass chimney, and some of the glass had gone in the cut.

  So I went in the house, cuffs filled with chaff, and there she was, at table, her head bent over the wound. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “The boys have gone to my farm. Your ma is out back, gone to the pond with Allie for a late swim. They took the baby…well Ma did. She does these things to spell me. But she works hardest of all.”

  “Can I please go, Ma? Please?” Johnny begged.

  “Hurry on, then, but if you speak with disrespect again, I shall use the rod.”

  “Yes, Ma,” he said, hurrying out.

  “He disrespected you?” I asked, amazed at the boy’s pluck. How could he disrespect his mother?

  She kept her head down, staring at the bloody bit of rag covering her hand.

  “Missus?” She was so still, I reckoned she fought tears. So I pulled the chair out be
side her and sat. Slowly I reached for her hand, my bruised shoulder protesting, my knuckles worse for wear as I held her little hand in mine and peeled the cloth away. She looked at me then, and her eyes were glistening. It undid me to see the tear escape and line her cheek, and she took her good hand and brushed at it.

  “Addie,” she whispered.

  I nodded, but I did not say her name, not with her looking so beautiful I was choked.

  When I could breathe some I kept my eyes on the cut that now showed itself, an angry red gash. “Ma is comforted to have you here. The children…they are bringing her healing,” I said, sounding more like Seth than myself.

  She gasped a little. I looked sharp at her, afraid I’d hurt her somehow, when I’d yet to probe this wound. “I never pondered it that way,” she said. “I haven’t been able to see past the extra work we bring. But if I allow myself…I see truth in what you’ve said.” She beamed at me then, a smile so pure and lovely it would have brought me to my knees quicker than Gaylin’s best tackle were I not seated.

  “Missus, what I need for this is in my room.”

  “I’ll come there,” she said quickly, before I could make my mind up about it.

  So I handed her the bloody rag, and she covered her wound, and I led her out, and it felt like sin somehow. We did not speak though she had much to say, I could feel it. The betrayal I felt when she went to Gaylin was not between us, for I had let go of that childish rumination once reason returned in the field. Of course she went to him for he had suffered the brunt of it, and favoring me would do no good. I was no tender baby. I didn’t need fussing over.

  I led her into my hovel. I was a neat man usually, but today, of course, I had slammed around in here after my brawling, so a stool was overturned, and my Sunday suit was knocked onto the floor. I picked this up with a quick swipe that left me aching a little. But aching just meant I was alive.

  So I had her sit at my little table, and I moved aside my books, not wishing for her to look them over or question me as I found reading personal. I brought the lantern there and lit it easy, having her sit across from me, holding her hand under the light, laying it there on the wood. I was embarrassed for her to see me, backside in the air trying to find my bottle. It was there, and I wondered at Johnny’s involvement in its placement, but I would save that for another time.