by Lyn Cote
“No need?” Dan said, incredulous. “You shame our family by becoming a drunk. You and your wife fight day and night. Is that what I want to hear?”
Gil looked shocked.
“What are you thinking?” Dan demanded. “Or do you think at all? You come here right in the middle of growing season? What farmer does that?” He rose, agitated.
“Father.” Gil reached out and grabbed Dan’s sleeve. “Come home. I’ve lost all my family.”
Except your wife. Sympathy stirred in Judith, and she decided the time for her to speak had come. “Gil, we love you, but you’ve been going down the wrong path ever since you came home from the war. I do not know how bad the war was. You and Asa do. But you cannot let it rob you of the rest of your life. You say you lost your family, but you really forced us to leave.”
Her words appeared to hit him. He looked ready to argue. Instead he slumped and held his head in his hands. Long moments of heavy silence passed. Then he gazed at them, head still hung low. “How did everything go so wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Dan said, “but you’ll have to figure it out. I’m going to town. I’ve got a job to do.” He walked out.
Judith rose, also. “Gil, perhaps Emma and I should have confronted you over…how your wife treated us. But we didn’t want to argue or cause a family rift.” Tears tried to come when she thought of all the misery she and her sister had suffered in silence and finally left behind.
“Everyone blamed Mabel Joy for you leaving,” Gil said, sounding aggrieved.
“Mabel Joy did not want us in her house,” Judith said, unable to keep the ire from her voice. “She made it quite plain.”
“That’s not right—”
“Gil, you’ve been sunk in your own well of misery. You didn’t take any notice of what Mabel Joy was saying or doing to us. I’ve never met a more contentious woman in my life.” Judith felt a mix of relief at being able to say this out loud to her brother and sadness that the truth was so painful.
“Gil,” Asa spoke up, “you need to choose whether you want to keep on the way you are or change course.” Asa motioned toward the walls. “I lived in this cabin for two long years before deciding that I needed to begin living again. So I wrote to Judith and gained a wife.”
Judith turned, blinking away tears.
“You don’t understand,” Gil muttered.
“I do understand.” Asa rose. “Gil, we spent four horrible years fighting to stay alive. We did it because it had to be done. But think—do you call what you’re doing now living?”
Asa’s forthright challenge took Judith’s breath away. And made her very proud. Then she wondered if Asa was aware of the irony of him telling Gil to break with the past. The reporter’s coming and Asa’s reaction had indicated that the war indeed still bound up her husband. But perhaps she was wrong. Certainly she was no man’s dream wife. Yet could her brother and her husband leave the war behind and find peace? And perhaps love?
Chapter Fifteen
The next day Gil sat at the table, wearing an old faded and patched outfit of Asa’s while Judith pressed Gil’s freshly laundered clothing on the board set up near the dry sink. As she worked, Judith wished she knew why Asa had gone to the sheriff’s a few days ago. Did it have to do with the newspaperman?
Last night she’d been happy when Gil had gone to spend the evening with Emma because Judith had wanted so much to sit and talk to Asa in front of the fire about Gil. But her obviously preoccupied husband had wished her good-night and gone straight to his loft.
Now Judith concentrated on the hot flatiron, not wanting another one of those little iron burns on her hands. They mimicked the nicks and burns she suffered from Asa always holding her at arm’s length.
“I feel like death warmed over,” Gil muttered.
Judith gazed at him. Had the drink “got” her brother? Would he return to the bottle? “I’m sorry.”
He gazed at her mournfully. “I want a drink in the worst way.”
Judith held her breath.
“But I’m not going to go to the saloon.” He rested his head in his hand as if it weighed a ton.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured again.
Gil leaned forward and rested his head on the table. “I remember the man I used to be before 1861. I don’t know if I can go back to that, be like that again.”
“I don’t think you can,” Judith replied, finishing the points of the shirt collar.
He looked up, dismayed.
“But you can make peace within yourself. And with Mabel Joy. Gil, we were raised right. Our parents showed us how to live in favor with God and man. The war made you forget that. You can’t let that evil time destroy you. You are stronger than you know.”
Gil gazed at her glumly. “I hope so.”
She set the iron on the hearth and shook out the warm shirt. “Here. Everything is clean and pressed. You can go in the bedroom and dress. Just leave Asa’s clothes on the bed.”
Asa appeared at the door. “I’m going to visit Noah Whitmore, Judith. Would you like to ride along?”
Taken by surprise, Judith stammered, “Yes.” He’d said he was going, but she didn’t expect him to take her.
“You can visit with Mrs. Whitmore,” Asa said.
I’d rather visit with you. Judith folded up the wooden ironing board and Asa propped it in the corner of the kitchen for her.
Gil walked out of the bedroom.
“Now you look more like yourself, Gil,” Asa said. “You going into town to spend time with your father?”
Gil inhaled deeply. “Yes.”
“I’m driving through town. We can drop you off.”
Soon the five of them arrived in town. Gil slipped down and, with thanks, headed to Dan, who was walking up to meet them. “Leave Colton!” Dan called. “He can help me meet the boats.”
So with only Lily riding in the back, they drove up the rise eastward out of town toward the Whitmores’ place.
Judith wanted to speak to her husband, but Lily’s presence forced her to remain quiet. What are you thinking, Asa? Why are we going to visit the Whitmores?
Before long they jerked to a stop at the Whitmores’ cabin. Sunny Whitmore, with her son on her hip, hurried outside. “Hello! Welcome!”
Asa helped Judith descend and then swung Lily down by her waist, then swirled her around in a circle, making the child giggle with pleasure.
“Now, be good, Lily,” he said.
“I will!” Lily ran toward Dawn, the Whitmores’ daughter who was playing with long-eared brown pups near their mother in the wild grass.
“Would you like tea or coffee?” Sunny asked, letting her son down onto the grass. He toddled off toward the pups, too.
“How about some of that good spring water I’ve heard about?” Judith smiled, but from the corner of her eye, she watched Asa head toward Noah, who was planing a board stretched between sawhorses.
Judith watched as Sunny filled two mugs with icy spring water. Then she followed Sunny to the shady bench outside the door, where they could watch the children play.
“Tell me what’s the news from town,” Sunny said innocently.
Judith could hear the rumble of both husbands’ voices, but they were too far away for her to make out words. Judith decided to tell Sunny about her brother so she would hear the truth, not what the town gossips came up with.
After listening silently, Sunny gripped Judith’s wrist. “I’m so sorry for your brother.” She glanced over her shoulder at their husbands. “I don’t think any man came through the war without trouble.”
“Did your husband serve?”
“Yes,” was all Sunny said.
Judith wondered about this. She turned again, trying to see, to hear what Noah and Asa were discussing. She had a hard time believing her silent husband was talking to the preacher.
Finally Asa and Noah joined the women. “Are you ready to go home, Judith?” Asa asked.
“If you are,” she replied, rising. She t
hanked Sunny for her hospitality, and the Whitmores walked them to their wagon. Asa swung Lily up onto the bench and then helped Judith up.
“So we’ll expect you at the Fourth of July Celebration Meeting on Sunday evening, just after supper,” Noah said.
“I’ll be there.” Asa climbed onto the wagon bench and maneuvered the team to head back to town.
They all exchanged goodbyes, and Judith held her peace till they were far enough from the Whitmores not to be overheard. “So you’re going to the meeting to plan the celebration of the Fourth?” She kept her voice low and neutral.
“I am.”
She wanted to ask more but hesitated. The two of them had moved to a better place, and she didn’t want to say anything to upset that. “May I come, too?” she asked tentatively.
“I think you should.”
Judith breathed in and out slowly. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? But what had brought her husband to volunteer for a committee about a celebration he didn’t want anything to do with? Only God knew, and she’d have to trust Him.
*
A few days later, Judith and Emma stood with their father, Asa and the children, all facing Gil. A steamboat heading south had docked, and Gil was going home today. Days of sobriety and good meals had helped Gil look more like himself than he had for a long time.
“You’ll come for a visit, then?” Gil asked Dan.
“Yes, I’ll come down before the river freezes for the winter—if Mabel Joy writes me a letter of invitation.”
Gil pressed his lips together and bowed his head in agreement.
Then Gil kissed Emma’s and Judith’s cheeks.
When he was close, Judith whispered into his ear, “Remember what Mama always said. The only person you can change is yourself.”
Gil paused and then hugged her close. “Yes.”
Releasing her, he offered his hand to Asa, who clasped it. “Perhaps next year before planting, you and your wife will take a boat up and come visit us.”
“I’d like that,” Gil said, shaking Asa’s hand.
The boat whistle sounded.
Gil bent down and gave Colton and Lily each a penny. “For candy.”
“Thank you!” the children chorused in unison.
Gil walked down the dock and onto the boat. He moved to the railing, and as the boat maneuvered out into the current, he waved to them.
They waved back till the boat disappeared around the bend, gulls circling overhead and squawking.
“Can we go buy our candy?” Lily asked, dancing on tiptoe. “Please?”
“Go ahead,” Asa granted. “Then come right home.”
The two raced toward Ashford’s store. Dan wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “I hope he keeps to the narrow path.”
“Father, we can pray. Only God can change a life,” Emma said. “I’ve received another letter from Mason Chandler. He will return sometime later this summer. The business he must take care of is taking longer than he anticipated.”
Judith could not tell whether Emma was as disinterested as she sounded or not.
“Mason’s a good man,” Asa said.
Emma did not reply to this. “Well, I promised Mrs. Ashford that I would fix lunch today. Father, you’re invited if you’d like.”
“Thanks, Emma,” Dan replied. “I’ll be over when I see the storekeeper shut down for midday meal.”
Emma left them, and Dan headed toward his lean-to.
Judith looked up at Asa.
“I guess we’d better go home,” Asa said. He offered her his arm.
She suddenly felt proud. This wonderful man had married her. He didn’t love her, might never love her. But he respected her and would always protect her. She must be patient with him. The advice she’d given her brother played in her mind. “The only person you can change is yourself.” Now, if she just knew why he was going to that meeting. Well, she would attend and find out.
*
Sunday evening came. Leaving the children to play outside, Judith and Asa entered the schoolhouse. By now Judith could have predicted who the committee would be, and she was nearly right. Near the door open to the breeze, Noah, Martin Steward and the Ashfords had arranged the front school benches to face each other. In addition, Mrs. Ellen Lang, the first schoolteacher, had come. Everyone greeted them as Asa ushered Judith toward the nearest empty bench. While the children played outside in the school yard, Sunny Whitmore tended the toddlers and babies off in the schoolteacher’s quarters.
Judith watched the proceedings with some misgivings. She recalled how angry Asa had been when the reporter had brought up his full name and military service that day in town, and all because of the part he played at the Gettysburg battle, early July 1863. Evidently neither the Ashfords nor the Langs, who had witnessed this, had spread the news. No one else had brought it up to her. Judith was grateful. Yet why was Asa, who wanted no mention of the war, here at this meeting? Her right leg jittered with nerves. She forced her heel flat on the floor.
Then the sheriff and his wife, Rachel, walked in and sat down beside her and Asa.
“Now that we’re all here,” Noah said, “I’ll open the meeting with prayer.”
The meeting began. Martin took notes. The efficiency of the discussion impressed Judith.
“I think we should have someone, some veteran, speak,” the sheriff said.
All heads turned toward Noah, which made sense to Judith. He was the unofficial leader, the preacher, the one who spoke to them every week.
“Just so,” Noah replied. “Asa, how about you?”
Judith felt her lips part in surprise.
“If you think I’m the one for the job,” Asa said with a nod of his head.
“Yes, I think you’re the one to speak,” the sheriff said.
Was this the same man who had refused to talk to the newspaper reporter? Most everyone in the room looked surprised, and Judith realized that her jaw had dropped. She closed it quickly.
Then the meeting ended with prayer for the coming celebration, and the gathering dispersed. Asa led her and the children home in the gathering dusk. Like a real mother and father, Asa and she prayed with the children and settled them into their pallets. Asa walked her to the bedroom curtain, kissed her forehead and headed to the loft. His chaste kiss surprised and thrilled her. And confused her.
She wanted to call him back, ask him what he was thinking, planning for his speech at the celebration, but the words shriveled in her throat. She must be patient. “Good night, Asa.”
“Good night, Judith.”
She held in a sigh and went into the bedroom alone again. Why, oh, why couldn’t she have been born pretty? Why couldn’t she and Emma have been identical twins?
*
The Fourth of July dawned bright and hot. In the late afternoon, the whole community gathered in the school yard for a grand picnic to start everything off. Judith pressed her hankie to the perspiration around her face at the edge of her hat. She’d dressed for the occasion in her best light blue summer dress and hat. Asa wore his Sunday best, and the children were spit-shined and starched. Lily sported new pink ribbons on her braids. If only Judith could calm the quivering in her stomach. What was Asa going to say in his speech today?
The children ate quickly and were engaged in a boisterous game of tag. The adults sat in groups at the few tables and on quilts in the shade, the hum of voices cheerful and lively. Judith’s nervous stomach had not allowed her to eat very much at all.
Emma leaned close to her ear. “You’re awfully quiet today.”
Judith smiled as much as her tight lips allowed.
“What’s bothering you?”
Before Judith could think how to reply, Noah Whitmore called to the children to stop playing and come to the schoolhouse.
“Time for our program to commemorate the signing of the Declaration of Independence!”
The ladies finished putting away the empty plates and bowls into hampers, and the husbands set them into wagon beds.
Then the families gathered and solemnly entered the schoolhouse as if it were a Sunday morning. Though she smiled at everyone, Judith felt her heart trying to hop into her throat.
At the front, Noah waited till everyone had settled down, and then he opened with prayer. Lavina Caruthers rose to lead them all in singing “My Country, ’tis of Thee.” Judith could not stop watching Asa from the corner of her eye. As he sang, he looked so calm. Why?
Asa rose and walked out of the schoolhouse quietly.
Judith nearly followed but realized that she shouldn’t call attention to his leaving. Had he changed his mind? Gone home? Dread pooled in her stomach.
Three schoolchildren—Jacque, Johan and Dorcas—rose and moved to the front of the schoolroom. Emma asked them questions about who wrote the Declaration of Independence, where and when the writing took place, why it was important.
The sheriff slipped from the room, then Noah and a few other men. What was going on? Judith fanned herself and worried her lower lip. Emma tried to get her notice, but Judith ignored her.
Finally the children recited the beginning of the document that had begun their nation: “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness…” Afterward the three bowed and Emma curtseyed. The gathering sitting on the benches applauded them enthusiastically.
Then a pause came. Everyone looked around. What was next?
Judith fanned herself more rapidly. Oh, dear.
The door between the classroom and the teacher’s quarters flapped open with a bang against the wall. Asa, in a uniform she had never seen since coming here, marched into the room, followed by the sheriff who’d served for the Union, Noah and a few other men she didn’t know well. Some wore uniforms like Asa, others merely a military hat or insignia pinned on their coats.
“At ease,” Asa ordered.
The men stood behind him in a line and in military order. Asa approached the teacher’s lectern that Noah used as a pulpit on Sundays. He stood for a moment looking into the audience. “Good evening. I am, or was, Captain Fitzgerald Asa Brant of the Rock River Illinois Militia. I served all four years of the war.” He turned to the men behind him and in turn, each one stepped forward and recited the same kind of information about himself.