Freeing Lost Souls
By
Tracy Kincaid
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Freeing Lost Souls
Copyright 2016 © Tracy Kincaid
Cover by JRA Stevens
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Sarah Finny is an artist who prides herself on being free, a nomad. Yet here she is, in Gettysburg, unaccountably attached to the place, and very soon to Bruce Wilks. There on the old battlefield, Sarah comes upon Bruce and his injured leg. She is willing to give help but not, she thinks, her heart. There is, however, a third party, powerful and mysterious, who has brought them together, hoping to enlist them in finding his own very-long-lost love and thereby freeing lost souls.
Other books by
Tracy Kincaid
Changing Lives
Released July 2015
Past, Present, and Future
Book Two: The Family Tree series
Coming Summer 2016
Dedication
To Randy Sundberg,
Dad, you loved history so much that it rubbed off on me. Thank you for reading my books and throwing your two cents in. I love you!
Special thanks
To my kids, Whitney, Eric, and Samantha. I love you with all my heart.
Matt, thank you for encouraging me to give this writing thing a shot. I hope I make you proud.
To DiAnne Sundberg, you have always stood by me during all of my life decisions. Thank you. I love you.
To Jason Sundberg, thank you for being the best brother ever. I love you. Yes, I know I got mushy!
To Jim and Nita, thank you for lending me help when I needed it.
To Eryn Black, Nicole Campbell, Taabia Dupree, LaVerne Thompson, Renee Waring, Angela Aaron, and all of my other author friends who have helped me. You all have helped me more than you will ever know. I hope to repay you someday.
I would also like to thank Imagine Dragons for inspiring me through your music.
Prologue
Wheatfield, Gettysburg
July 2, 1863
Dearest Elizabeth,
I fear that this may be my last letter to you. We are in a wheat field and the constant battle is not going well. Most of the men in our regiment have been killed or seriously wounded. I am not sure how I have avoided both thus far. I want you to know that my final thoughts will be only of you. You have my soul, my love.
Edward
Chapter 1
Present day...
This is my first time going to Gettysburg. I’ve always wanted to go there and see the place I’ve grown up hearing about. My dad is a huge Civil War buff. Since before I was born, he’s always watched movies or read about it. I’m not sure why he never became a history teacher since he seems to know so much about it. It also turns out that we have Civil War in our blood, as well. Some distant cousin on my dad’s side was in the war. That makes it even more special for me.
I’m an artist, mainly chalk drawings. I prefer the freedom I have with it. My new project is for the Gettysburg Historical Society. They commissioned me after seeing some work I’d done for the Ohio Historical Society on the Underground Railroads. What they’re wanting from me is to draw the battlefields as I see them. The nice thing about this job is I have free room and board and will get a good size check when I’m finished. My deadline is pretty open since the area is so big and the weather can be unpredictable. As long as I check in and show my progress, all will be good.
Driving my Jeep to my new location was kind of strange. Most of Gettysburg is a battlefield. Just going down the street I get the feeling of war and loss. To this day, the Civil War has had the highest number of lives lost out of any other war. Such a waste. It’s amazing how far the United States has come in such a short time, yet still has so far to go. African Americans may be free from slavery, but non-white people still have it hard today.
When I make it to the loft, which is to be my new home, I find that my boxes have been delivered the day before and are waiting to be unpacked. Moving around for me is not that big of a deal. When I get projects like this, I get to do a lot of traveling. I don’t stay in one spot for very long. I tend to get bored with my surroundings pretty fast. I’ve tried to settle down a few times, but that just never worked out for me for one reason or another. It’s just me and my dog, Buc.
“Okay, Buc, this is it.” Buc stretches before he gets up and jumps out of the Jeep. He’s a good dog, a Golden Retriever. I named him Buccaneer, but it turned into a mouthful, so I call him Buc now. He’ll retrieve anything you want him to, occasionally. Mostly he gets what he wants and gives you what he wants you to have. He can be a pain in the ass at times, but I still love him.
As I set my purse and overnight bag down, I look around the room. It’s a perfect studio with just the bare essentials. I will love it here. I make my way into the bathroom to wash up after the long drive. As I pull my wavy light brown hair up into a ponytail, I look at myself in the mirror. My brown eyes look so tired. I haven’t been this exhausted in a long time.
* * *
A bark, then a knock at the door causes me to stop unpacking. Standing at the door is a tall older man with graying hair. He is wearing a dark blue suit that makes his hazel eyes look more blue than green. “Hello, Ms. Finny, my name is Daniel Banks. I’m from the Gettysburg Historical Society. I wanted to stop by, introduce myself, and make sure you have everything you need.” He smiles warmly at me.
“Please, come in. Sorry the place is such a mess. I arrived early this morning. And please call me Sarah.” Buc comes and sits by me.
“And who’s this?” he questions as he looks at Buc.
“This is Buc. He goes everywhere with me. Will that be a problem? I guess I should’ve said something earlier.” I guide him to the living room and gesture for him to take a seat. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you, and Buc is more than welcome. We have signs posted for where he won’t be allowed to go, mainly the buildings and cemeteries.”
“Oh, good.” Buc goes back to where he was lying by the kitchen to resume his nap.
“I’ll only stay a few minutes. I know you have a lot to do. Here are some maps and notes to go along with them. The maps are of all the battlefields, and the notes give a background on what happened at each site. If you should need anything, please feel free to call me. Here’s my card.” He hands me his business card with all of his contact information on it.
“I’ll program your contact info into my cell so I’ll have it with me at all times. How’s the cell service out on the battlefields? Since I work alone, it would be nice to know I can get ahold of people if need be.”
“We have towers hidden in the area, so cell service is pretty good just about everywhere. Of course some spots are not so good, but that goes with the terrain. Do you have any other questions?”
“Do you have a preference as to where you want me to start?”
“It’s early fall and our tourist season is dwindling down, so you sh
ouldn’t run into too many people as you work. You’re the artist, so we leave it up to you. We liked the work we have seen so far, and we look forward to seeing what you come up with during your stay with us.” He stands and starts for the door.
“I’ll most likely get started next week. I want to get the lay of the land first. If I need anything, I’ll call you. Thank you again for allowing me this opportunity to work for you.” We shake hands and he’s on his way.
* * *
It didn’t take me long to unpack and hit the grocery store to fill the fridge and cupboards. The loft is a comfortable studio. The building I’m in looks to have been an old factory at one point. It’s all brick inside and out. I’ve no idea how many lofts are in the building. It’s functional, living/bedroom/kitchen combo and a bathroom. I don’t need much else. It’s big enough so I can set one of my easels up to work. It really is an artist’s dream to live in a place like this. It’s very quiet.
I check my art supplies, take inventory, and organize everything. I’ll want to check out the local art supply store at some point to make sure I can get what I’ll need. Maps and notes are spread out on the floor in front of me. I like to create my own map of where I want to go. It makes it less of a waste of time when I’m ready to get started. I look at where the big battles took place. They are the ones that everyone knows about and where I’ll start. I’ll have all of the battlefields done before I leave town.
My cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID but don’t recognize who’s on the other end of the line. I go ahead and answer, “Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Finny, my name is Roger Bennet from the Historical Society. I thought that I would give you a call and make sure you made it to town.”
“Yes, I made it early this morning. Please call me Sarah.”
“That’s great, Sarah. Please let me know if you need anything. We look forward to seeing what you come up with for us. Do you have any questions for me?”
“I’m looking forward to starting. I will let you know if I need anything. And I think I have everything I need so far, thank you.”
“Fine, Sarah, you have a good evening and I’ll talk to you soon. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” I press end to end the call. People seem to be really friendly here.
Tomorrow I’ll drive around a bit to get the feel for the city itself and its history. A lot has happened here, and I need to get into the spirit of it all. I’ll check out some tours as well.
I pick up the phone to call my parents to check in. I like to call every once in a while so they know I’m still alive. “Hey, Dad, how are you and Mom doing?”
“Hey, honey, we are doing good. It’s been some time since we’ve heard from you. What are you up to these days?”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was in Ohio for a few months. Now I have a project in Pennsylvania. Guess where?”
“Umm, Philly?”
“I’m in Gettysburg, Dad. Can you believe it? I’m so excited. Wish you were here with me. It’s everything you said it would be. And I’ve not even been here a full day yet.” I laugh.
“How exciting! Oh, I wish I was with you, too. Been so long since I’ve been to any of those old battlefields. You know we had family that was in that war. What’s the project?”
I explain what I’m doing and he seems pleased for me. Mom is out at the store, so I’ll have to call later to chat with her.
“Well, Dad, I better get going. It was good talking to you. Tell Mom I’ll call her later. Love you.”
“Love you too, honey. Have a great time, and make sure you call your old man and give me some details.”
“I will, Dad. Bye.” We hang up. I’ll have to try to talk them into coming out here before my time is up. It would be fun to walk with Dad so he can tell me the stories where they happened.
It’s been a long day. After taking Buc for a walk, I shower and get ready for bed. I want to get an early start tomorrow, see everything in a different light, throughout the day.
Chapter 2
My alarm goes off at four-thirty. I wanted to be up before the sun. My goal is to hit as many battlefields as I can before the crowds come and see things as the light changes during the day. I grab some coffee and go out for the day an hour later. Buc and I jump into the Jeep and start our day. One of the things that was in the packet from Mr. Banks was a three-hour driving tour with a booklet that came with a CD. I get to the starting point and activate the CD.
The CD’s great. It gives me background on each of the sites. They have memorials everywhere I look. It would be fun to draw some of them, but I’m here for another job. I can do that in my spare time. I want to capture the essence of what happened here. Anyone can take a picture with a camera. I want to show people something beyond that.
I get out of the Jeep at some of the tour stops and walk around a bit. As I walk, I have an odd sensation as if someone’s watching me. I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I turn in the direction but don’t see anything. Of course Buc never seems to notice when things are amiss. So it must be my creativity getting the best of me. I can almost envision men in uniform marching across the field.
So much has happened during the Civil War. So many people have lost their lives right where I’m standing. The feeling is a bit surreal. We hop back into the car and continue on our journey. It’s late morning now, and the light in this area is perfect. This would be a good time of day to come back to this spot. I get out of the car to walk around, leaving Buc sleeping in the backseat. Lazy dog!
I’m walking in what they call the Wheatfield. To a normal person, it looks like tall grass, nothing special. I see the tall grass, but I also see the detail in the wheat as it waves in the breeze. This is a place I’ll come back to several times to try to capture the essence, the openness of it all. The soldiers had no place to hide anywhere on the battlefield. Trees line the outside of the area. Not much in the middle of the field, except wheat.
I find a small clearing among the wheat and sit down to take it all in. I lie down and look up at the sky. The shades of blue mixed with the puffy white clouds, the way they dance together, is stunning. I now wish I’d brought my art supplies with me. The sky is putting on quite a show for me today. The TV weatherman called for rain, but right now is perfect. I watch the clouds for God knows how long. I sit up when I notice the sky getting darker off in the distance. I hear an occasional clap of thunder, like a sound of a cannon being shot far away.
As I start back to the car, once again I feel as if someone is watching me. I stop and look around, but I don’t see anyone unless they’re hiding in the wheat. I don’t hear anything except the wind blowing through the wheat, picking up with the coming storm. I make it to the Jeep and notice Buc staring off in the general direction I’ve felt someone looking at me. Spooky. “Buc, looks like a storm is brewing. We’d better take off before it starts to rain.” I ruffle his head, and he moves over to the passenger seat. As we start back toward town, I look in my rearview mirror and notice a man standing in the wheat looking at us. I stop the car and look out the window, but he’s gone. Just like that, poof. Wonder who that was. I didn’t see any other cars. Maybe someone on a walking tour. I plan to do that tour at some point as well.
I drive back to the loft to drop Buc off, then go over to the museum since the weather has now turned foul. While I’m there, I wander through the exhibits before I check out a movie they are showing. It depicts the then and now of the battlefields. After the movie, I hit the bookstore, thinking I will pick up something to send to my dad while I’m at it.
As I’m browsing, I hear someone call my name. I look around, and Mr. Banks is waving as he walks toward me. “Well, hello, Mr. Banks. How are you today? I just went through most of the driving tour on the CD you gave me. Lots of incredible things happened here.”
“I’m well, thank you. And that would be an understatement!” He chuckles.
“Yeah, I guess it is. I came in here waiting out the storm, and to pick up a fe
w things for my dad. We have Civil War in our blood, Dad’s side.” I smile.
“I thought you might, since your last name is Finny. That’s not a very popular name nowadays. I’ve some in my blood as well. I got together with a genealogist in the area, and she helped me map it out. It turns out I had several family members in the war. Some survived it, and others were not so lucky,” he says with a sad smile.
“I should do that. Would be fun to see who was where on the battlefields. Would you mind sending me your contact for that?”
“Sure. I’ll send you an email later this afternoon. I’m off now. See you soon.”
He heads off through the crowd as I finish up my shopping. The storm looks like it may be passing soon, so I sit in the café and read one of the books I purchased while I eat my lunch.
* * *
Later that evening, I load up the Jeep with all of my art supplies and maps. I’ve changed my mind about starting to work next week. I want to start tomorrow, and I plan to start at the Wheatfield. I’ve thought about that place since I was there, and something is drawing me to it. Might as well find out what it is. My fingers are itching to draw.
I sit on the couch after I’m done packing up my gear and start one of the DVDs Mr. Banks had in the package for me. This one is a video tour. I choose this one because it has the Wheatfield in it.
Watching the film makes me wish I had daylight twenty-four hours a day. I’ve not been this excited about a project in a long time. When the DVD is over, I pick up my laptop to check my emails. I have one from Mr. Banks.
Freeing Lost Souls (The Family Tree Series Book 1) Page 1