by Jenna Brandt
Nathan stared at his persecutor, Christopher Berns, without blinking. “My duty has not changed, and so, I must stay unyielding in my decision. Do what you wish with me, but I’ll never give you the information you want.”
Christopher growled under his breath, his Southern accent emerging for a moment. “The means of persuasion we’ve been using over the last few weeks have been unsuccessful. I expected as much considering your past training. I suppose it's time to move on to more compelling methods.”
Nathan wore the marks of the earlier techniques across his body. Lacerations, bruises, and burns blanketed his physique. His left leg tilted at an odd angle and his ribs hurt with every breath. His refusal to comply had increased the amount and cruelty of his torture. The instant he saw Christopher standing before him, he knew the severity would be immense; Nathan had trained him well.
The U.S. government had assumed it was a victory when Nathan recruited the son of a large plantation owner who agreed to spy for them. Christopher socialized in circles that made him the perfect candidate to train for espionage. But what Nathan didn’t know because he had already left the military by the time the war started, was that Christopher had been tasked to spy for the Union on the Confederacy. When his true allegiance was discovered, Christopher fled to the North, taking his training and knowledge with him.
When the Confederate government realized Nathan’s connection to Christopher, they conscripted him and assigned him to track Christopher down and neutralize him. When Nathan had arrived in Boston, it didn't go unnoticed, resulting in Christopher setting an ambush for Nathan. The student had out-maneuvered the teacher.
“You can do your worst, but my God will sustain me,” Nathan stated with firm resolve. He didn’t want Christopher knowing that he was already beginning to wear down from the immense torture he’d sustained. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
“We shall see if you still believe in God after I finish with you.”
The crack of the whip filled the room, but by God’s boundless mercy, Nathan only heard the sound of Faith’s loving voice.
Chapter 3
The townspeople watched as Faith walked into the church. She sensed the sympathetic looks on their faces and felt her body blush with discomfort. The entire population of Myrtle Grove was aware Nathan had been reported missing and presumed dead.
Bonnie Baker, the town gossip, sprang up from her seat and made her way over to Faith. She reached out and took Faith’s hand in her own. Bonnie’s Southern accent was thick and she trilled her r’s. “Dear, I’m so sorry to hear what happened to your poor Nathan. Whatever are you gonna do?”
Stiffening from resolve, Faith stated with conviction, “Nathan isn’t dead. He’s far too capable to die in the war. The confederacy has misinformed us.”
Faith wasn’t sure whom she was trying to convince more, Bonnie or herself. Maybe if she spoke her hopes out loud enough, her heart would stop beating with fear that the news was based on truth.
“Oh, dear, you’re still in shock.” Bonnie gave Faith a pitying look. “It’ll get better. You have everyone in Myrtle Grove to help you through this. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
Several more people approached Faith, giving their condolences over her loss. With each person, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be because she would know it in her heart. She wasn’t sure what happened to him, but she knew Nathan wasn’t dead.
By the time service was about to begin, Faith felt like she was a volcano on the verge of erupting. The pity everyone poured out on her was the worst. She knew they thought she was deluding herself. She resisted the urge to snap and forced another smile instead. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Stine, I appreciate your support along with everyone else’s.”
Her mother must have noticed Faith’s distress. As she approached the group of people surrounding her daughter, gratitude filled Faith’s heart. “It’s time we sit, Faith. It looks as if Pastor Howell is getting ready to start.”
Pastor George Howell was the grandson of the founder of Myrtle Grove Church and was a third-generation pastor. From his managing of church member problems to his ability to speak into the hearts of the congregation, it was obvious he had grown up in a family of church leaders.
As the Abernathys made their way to their usual pew at the front of the church, Faith leaned towards her mother, “I appreciate your helping me. It’s hard getting away from everyone once they get going.”
Tabitha Abernathy grinned as she patted her daughter’s arm. “You have enough difficulties without having to deal with well-meaning people bombarding you."
“Thank you, Mother,” Faith whispered in gratitude, knowing that though young and often mistaken for Faith’s sister, she was as wise as women twice her age.
Faith’s mother had been eighteen when she had married Thomas Abernathy. Less than a year later, they had their first child, Faith, and ten months after, Davis.
“Good morning, children,” Pearl Abernathy greeted with a sober expression as she joined her son’s family in the front pew.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Faith stated as she hugged the older woman, followed by the rest of the family.
Faith always marveled at how steadfast her grandmother appeared, even as her strawberry blonde hair grayed, and her green eyes hooded with painful memories of the past. Though she had lost her second son and only daughter over the past two decades, she remained strong in her faith and vigilant in her devotion to those that remained.
“Where is Grandfather?” Faith asked, looking around for the rough-and-tumble retired military man.
As if on cue, Mortimer Abernathy entered the church surrounded by the rest of the Abernathy children. Nancy and Ida were on either side of their grandfather, holding his hands, with Jack and Davis trailing behind.
“Good morning, everyone,” Mortimer stated in a slow Southern drawl, as he took his hat off and sat in the pew with the family.
Though settled from his wild ways from many years ago in the military, Mortimer never took to the life of a plantation owner. He said it was because he had been born a second son and second sons were never meant to have to bear the burden. When he had returned from serving up in the North to find his brother had died from consumption, he was forced to run the family plantation for his mother. Though it had been a legacy handed down from his father, he had passed the mantle onto Faith’s father as soon as he could.
It wasn’t lost on Faith that her grandfather was a lingering relic from an era that was quickly fading away. Though deep into his sixth decade of life, Mortimer Abernathy was still a force to be reckoned with in South Carolina, and everyone knew it.
“Any news regarding Nathan’s whereabouts?” Faith’s grandfather asked with hope in his voice.
Faith shook her head, but couldn’t muster a verbal reply. She prayed for a dose of her grandfather’s hope and her grandmother’s steadfastness along with protection for Nathan. Wherever he was and whatever he was going through, she knew he needed God to protect him.
Pastor Howell took to the pulpit, requesting everyone to stand to their feet with their hymnals. As the congregation sang, Faith let the melody cascade over her while the words of God’s love and mercy filled her heart with peace.
Chapter 4
Imprisonment… it used to be a foreign notion to Nathan; however, over the past few weeks it had become an idea he held in contempt. The Union prison, or at least that was where he assumed he was being held, was little better than a place fit for rats.
At the moment, what he wouldn’t give to be able to catch one and cook it. Food depravation was one of the means by which they tried to break Nathan, though it hadn’t worked and he wouldn’t let it. He would focus on what he must do to survive, returning to Faith, and leaving behind this awful place filled with awful men.
Try as he might, the conditions of his cell pressed Nathan to keep himself calm. Nathan was not a man who gave into darker feelings,
but he was consumed by his anger towards the men who had been torturing him in an attempt to force him to give up Confederate secrets.
He didn’t like the fact his captors could force him back to a place he had long forgotten. What if the rage devoured him? What if he could never put it back in the dark place he had shoved it long ago? If he returned broken, would Faith still love him? What if he never returned at all? Could she forgive him? Would she even know what happened to him, or would she be left to wonder? He loved her so much, he couldn’t imagine her living with that hanging over her the rest of her life. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he needed to get free and return to Faith.
Focusing on that purpose helped him fight off the shadows surrounding him. God still had plans for him, plans to prosper him, and not to harm him. The only thing capable of combating the darkness was his faith. His faith in God, his faith in his love for the woman he was going to marry, and his faith in the training he had received to never be broken.
The loud scrape of wooden chair legs interrupted Nathan’s thoughts. Although aware his tormenter, Christopher, was in the room with him again, Nathan chose not to move but continue to look as if he was asleep.
“Come now, Nathan, I won’t fall for any of your games again.”
Nathan smiled inside, recalling the marks Christopher wore on the top of his hand, where the imprints of Nathan’s teeth still lingered from their last encounter. Christopher had made the mistake of shaking Nathan out of his ‘sleep’ and was bitten for his trouble.
“Have it your way then, Nathan,” he heard the other man state with an exasperated sigh.
The sound of a heavy, metal object being picked up from the ground across from him, echoed through the room. Nathan braced himself, not knowing what was coming but aware it would be nothing pleasant. He felt icy liquid hit him. The frigid coldness numbed his senses, but only for a moment. By the next second, the water stung like tiny needles of glass piercing every inch of his skin. Despite the pain, Nathan refused to react. It was what they wanted and expected of him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
Moments ticked by as the room stayed motionless. No one made a move until Nathan raised his head, and through narrowed eyes, stared at the man standing across from him.
“Still nothing to say?” Christopher sighed with frustration and ran his hands through his thin, blond hair. He moved around and sat in the vacant chair across from Nathan.
“This would be easier if you gave in Nathan. You should consider it a compliment we want you enough to waste this much time on you.”
Nathan was aware of his value to the other man. He would be an asset to their cause if they could convince him to turn against his country. However, they were dead wrong if they thought that would ever happen. “No, not me. They want my specialized set of skills and Confederate contacts, both of which I’ll never give you.”
“Nathan, I need to warn you, my bosses are contemplating other options of persuasion.”
“You should know by now, I won’t break. Nothing you do can make me turn against my country.”
“Your loyalty should be the Union, to the United States of America, not some unorganized, zealous group of rebels who think themselves important enough to declare themselves sovereign. You should know better than anyone, the Union will never allow them to break from the rest of the country.”
“I can see you’re afraid of what we’re capable of, of what we can and have done. You wouldn’t be trying to convince me to turn against the Confederacy if that wasn’t the case.”
“You’re mistaken,” Christopher corrected with a shake of his head. “I’m simply trying to put an end to this ridiculous conflict as quickly as possible. Too many good men have died over the South holding onto an antiquated way of life. Help me end this, Nathan, before anyone else has to die.”
“I will never help you,” Nathan denied with resolve. “You have two choices; release me or kill me.”
“There is a third choice. One you will not like.” Christopher threatened, leaning forward but just out of reach. “If you don’t accept our invitation to join us Nathan, we’ll visit that little hole of a town—what’s it called again—ah, yes, Myrtle Grove. If we can’t have you, we will take your fiancée’s oldest brother, Davis, instead.”
“You won’t touch him!” Nathan spat out in rage, struggling against the ropes that bound him. “I swear if any of you go near the Abernathy family, I’ll make you—”
Christopher cut Nathan off mid-threat. “There’s the man I’ve been waiting to see. Your true self has finally emerged. Welcome back, Lieutenant Maddox.”
With a shake of his head, Nathan insisted, “Never. I’ll never be that man again.”
“It’s your choice, but if you refuse our demands, we will go get the boy.” Christopher paused and rubbed his beard. “If you agree to what we are asking, however, we could choose not to bother with him. We’d rather have a seasoned spy than spend the time training a new one. I don’t think you want that for the boy either, considering you know what that entails.”
Nathan’s blood ran cold at the threat. He loved Davis like his own brother, and couldn’t let him go through the awful experiences he did in order to be cultivated as a spy. The mind games and tactics would break the tender spirit of Davis.
Christopher stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it wide. He turned back and faced Nathan a final time. “I will give you the night to think on it. If you don’t agree by morning, one of my men will make a trip to Myrtle Grove.”
Chapter 5
A pang of sadness hit Faith as she looked around the table at her family’s dejected faces. Two singular candles in plain tin pans lit the area, the conservation of the candles being a necessity nowadays. The long wooden table (the final remnant of their former luxurious life before the war) was sparse, with only a few plates, utensils, and glasses to use. All of the family’s finer possessions including the china, silver, crystal and paintings, had been sold off to help offset the plantation’s losses.
The worst of it had been when her mother had to part with her jewelry. She had cried as she handed them over to Thomas, saying she’d had the pearl necklace since he had given it to her on their first anniversary. Most of it was gone now, with only a few heirloom pieces they had hidden away in case Union soldiers or deserters found their way onto their land again.
Prior to Nathan’s disappearance, joy and laughter still filled Sunday meals, despite the war being at the back of all their minds. Since the loss of Nathan, however, the silence was stifling.
Besides prayers for the meal, the only words spoken now at mealtime were “will you please pass the so-and-so” and “thank you.” Although Nathan’s empty chair was a permanent reminder of his absence, no one wanted to discuss it.
It had been this way ever since they received the letter informing them of Nathan’s status. Not only was he Faith’s fiancé, but he had become part of the family. When he had first come to Myrtle Grove looking for work, her father had offered him a job as a plantation hand.
Faith's attraction to Nathan had been immediate, though unexpected. He was handsome with thick dark hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and a tall, chiseled physique. Beyond his looks, his disposition was impressive too. He showed kindness to everyone and his faith in God radiated from him.
She could remember when they shifted from a friendship to a romantic relationship, despite the difference in their stations.
Nathan was behind the house at the water spigot washing up for the evening meal. It had been a hot day. He was attempting to remove the sweat from his neck and face but was struggling.
Faith walked over to Nathan’s side. “Here, take this.” She extended the clean towel she had taken from one of the servants. As he looked at her with an irresistible, lopsided grin, her heart quickened and she felt like she would faint away on the spot
“Thank you,” the simple words so powerful when uttered in his deep voice that they penetrated to her very
core.
As his hand brushed her own, electricity shot up her arm, making her entire body tingle with excitement. He must have sensed it, too, because instead of removing his hand, he let it linger a moment longer than necessary.
Faith smiled back at him as her heart beat so rapidly she thought it would jump from her chest. She realized in that moment, he saw her for the first time as more than a friend.
Nathan worked hard and was dependable, quickly rising through the ranks at the plantation until he was promoted to foreman. Soon, he was taking on more and more responsibilities, even helping the family around the home with personal tasks. The more time Faith and Nathan spent together, the deeper their feelings grew, yet neither of them took the step to act on those feelings until one day they found themselves alone in the stable.
Nathan was returning one of the horses as Faith entered the stable for her afternoon ride. He finished latching the stall before turning to her with a look she had never seen in his eyes before.
“Is something wrong?” Faith inquired with concern.
“Yes, Faith, something is terribly wrong,” Nathan declared with despair.
“What is it?” she asked, rushing to his side and placing her hand on his arm. “You aren’t leaving Myrtle Grove, are you?”
The thought of never seeing him again was more than Faith could bear. She cared deeply for Nathan, she suspected she even loved him, and couldn’t imagine living in a world where she didn’t see him every day. She wished for more, but being a proper Southern woman, she knew it was not within her power to ask for it. She hoped in time, Nathan would make the leap and declare his affections, but the dream had yet to materialize.
If he had bad news, did it mean he had grown tired of living in a small town? He had lived in Mobile prior, and traveled all over the country as a soldier. Perhaps, he had decided he wasn’t ready to settle down in one place. If that was the case, would Faith be able to accept him leaving?